Kim Namjoon X Black Reader - Tumblr Posts

concept: you’re not trying to get arrested for indecent exposure but when you glanced over to namjoon and saw him looking up at the night sky with the familiar look of open wonder and raw vulnerability that he saves for contemplating the universe and his own place in it, you’re overcome with some unfathomable emotion and a deep swell of love so pure that it can only lead here - him, on his back under you with his pants pulled open just enough for you to pull his cock out and your panties pulled to the side under your dress so that he can slip into your wet heat. his hands are under your ass, spreading you apart and guiding you. he hisses in pleasure, head falling back onto the blanket and he bites down on his lower lip and you can tell he’s trying to be quiet - which only makes you ride him harder until he lets out a groaned “fuck baby,” his voice hitching over the words.

© fandomnoire — do not translate, re-distribute, or copy my work

how about studio sex for namjoon? 🥵

this is like the quintessential namjoon prompt. thank you for requesting it, i loved writing it.

873 words of namjoon x reader under the cut and it's exactly what it says on the tin y'all.

**if you have the time and even if you have to go anon, please don't be a silent reader! i've loved and been very appreciative of the comments whether they've been in your tags or replies. not to sound thirsty, but it's so nice and motivating to know if people love or have constructive feedback for the work that you produce 💜**

namjoon had been surprisingly bashful as he had shown you around rkive for the first time, all ducked head and shy smiles as he had talked to you about his figurines and why he had chosen the decor he had. it was cute, his nervousness, as if this was your first date all over again. you had seen him perform in front of thousands of people with a calm head but that had been rm; the man allowing you into his safe space now was different and all yours.

you were appreciative of the duality, especially when it meant one minute you were on a sweet studio tour and the next, you were on his lap with his hand down your pants while his cock pressed needily against you through his track pants.

but he wasn't worried about his hard on, not when he was in the middle of creating.

the entire reason for your casual studio date had been that you had never dated a music artist before and had never been to a studio space and had said as much to namjoon, teasingly questioning him as to why he had never taken you to his. he had been genuinely surprised by your interest, spending so much time in the studio that he had forgotten that the space could still hold novelty for someone else.

when he had offered to show you the equipment and how it all worked, beckoning you over to sit on his lap, you hadn’t known that this was what he meant: you, riding his fingers within the confines of your jeans and moaning into the microphone in front of you as he placed a kiss to the back of your neck, one headphone covering his ear to monitor the pretty music you were making for him.

“you sound so sexy, baby.” he placed a kiss to the back of your neck. your panties were drenched and you were sure that despite the denim being a thicker fabric, there was a matching wet spot forming there as well. the angle was too shallow - and namjoon was too in control and determined to tease you - for you to get exactly the friction and depth that you wanted. despite your desperate gyrations, you were only frustrating yourself, whining needily into the mic in such a way that it had him groaning against your neck and rocking his hips up against you. “fuck,” he elongates the vowel, drawing the simple word out as his forehead drops onto your shoulder. “you need to hear yourself.”

though you are slowly unraveling, you’re still aware enough to realize that hearing the sound of your own voice magnified and playing back to you in real time sounds awful and you’re trying to figure how to articulate that when he pulls his hand from your pants and pulls his headphones off, placing them over your ears instead, adjusting them so that they fit snugly and sealed out all other noise in the room - except those that were being picked up on the microphone.

like the shuffling of your feet and the swishing of fabric as he pats your thighs, signaling for you to stand and then pushes your jeans and panties down your legs, pulling you back onto his lap with a deep chuckle. all thoughts of denying him anything flee at the pleased sound, especially when it’s coupled with his fingers finding their way back between your slick folds. he soon has you gasping and biting back moans into the microphone again and you have to admit that he has a point- it is sexy to hear yourself like this. your own noises spur you on and the louder you are, the more namjoon obviously loves it, his breathless sounds being picked up as well.

your eyes are closed and your hands are searching for purchase across the slick surface of his workstation as your squirm against him, trying to goad him into just fucking you already when you feel him shift, a cord slipping under your fingers but you can’t bring yourself to care what’s happening until you hear his deep voice in your ears, lower in octave, rich and clear. “you’re so wet.”

you moan, realizing then that he’s fucking you with one hand and holding the microphone to his mouth with the other. “fuck, you’re so wet. you should hear how your pussy’s gripping my fingers.”

it took only a moment later to configure it but soon he was kneeling between your legs, microphone situated on the floor while he held your legs up over his shoulders and ate you out. you could hear it all clearly - the way he licked, slurped, and devoured you with deep, appreciative groans all magnified by the headphones over your ears.

you had never heard your own pleasure like this. it’s so lewd, so erotic - the wet sounds of his mouth on your dripping heat. when he adds his fingers, you moan harder from the welcome stretch of them inside of you and the sound of your body eagerly sucking them in as he curls and withdraws and presses them into you again and again while you thrash against the chair and tug at his hair.

© fandomnoire — do not translate, re-distribute, or copy my work.