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worldwideseal · 1 month

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🍷 i wish i had a glass of wine while reading this one. dear lord this man is so sexy. so sexy already and for what. to ruin my life for fun with his body and intelligence and confidence and handsome face. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfdffghvbbfuhfddddddddccccvvvggccc

i need this man in a part two of finishing the night 🦭 i said it. i need him like i need air

sis, help. (i know you WONT) but i love you thank you for writing this tasty treat and putting this man on paper again i enjoyed him too much. you did amazingly in showing his character in just this one part im going to go breathe in bed now

Change Of Plans (Namjoon x Fem Reader)

Word Count: 6.15k

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem Reader

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Oral sex (you receiving), sucking, kissing (french and other), dirty talk, talk about money/being rich, seduction, take charge and submitting, orgasms (multiple/squirting), overstim elements, light force, undressing (you to him), teaching and praise kink, intense fingering, clit sucking/rubbing, shyness/shame (at first), handsome rich Namjoon in this one, sexually experienced versus inexperienced (but not virginal), wet kink, talk about Namjoon being hard/big. Probably missing something but that's how it is!

Genre: PwP, established relationship (new)

AUs: CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: You've experienced a lot since you've started dating a CEO. A nice, fancy planned night out turns into something else when Namjoon decides to change things and teach you something you've always wanted to learn.

Author’s Note: I got a wild hair and wrote this. No good reason, just wanted to read about Namjoon doing this as a sexy rich guy. I always say I won't write any more stories about him for a while but I always fail. I love CEO Namjoon too much. He's a hot M-fer.

I tried to proof read but no doubt missed typos/have misspellings, etc. Overlook it and enjoy the content.

Also for @worldwideseal because we know she's his biggest seal and will drop it on command for that man. I don't blame her.

Thank you for reading. If you liked it and feel like telling me in a comment, I'd treasure it. Reblogging is appreciated but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @askkrisachan

He was standing outside when you arrived at the restaurant, as if the beginnings of the coming storm didn’t seem a concern in the least. As a reward you were greeted with the shining shapes of his cheeks as he smiled when you climbed from the passenger seat of the car. It was the one thing that moved him: coming close to hold out his hand.

A wide, warm hand that enclosed yours in the perfect way to show just how much of a size difference existed between you and this man. This handsome man with a wealth spanning beyond this continent.

Whose eyes looked deep into your own as you stood upright and came up onto the curb, facing him.

“Namjoon…tell you haven’t been standing out here for long?” You couldn’t imagine how much that suit cost. It must not have been much in the scheme of things, from the way he took a single glance down before his attention returned to you through the misty curtain of a light drizzle.

“Long enough. You look beautiful. Did you bring your appetite?”

You tried to look past him but Namjoon leaned in such a way to keep your focus on him. Not letting you see around his broad shoulders–not that it would have been much easier if he stood still.

“I did.” You wiped the back of a hand across your cheek in frictionless motion thanks to the slickness of droplets. Soon your hair would be flat from the wetness and you weren’t willing to let that kind of expense go to waste. Your budget didn’t have that level of elasticity.

“...Can we go inside? We’ll end up waterlogged.” You continued.

Namjoon smiled as he offered a bent arm to loop your own through. It felt right to cling to him and let his forward motion carry you. He was a natural leader–the air around him spoke of it. No need to announce. He was just that kind of man.

At the doors of the restaurant Namjoon reached out first, opening one side and nodding into the dark warmth beyond the doorway. Without having to follow it with a suggestion, you slipped through and a moment later he was standing just behind you in the lobby. So close his warmth was back, lacing around you in a slow creep–not that it was anything to complain about.

“Reservation for Kim.” He smiled from behind you to the hostess, who returned his greeting with a relaxed, shy grin and a brief nod. She murmured something akin to “This way, Mr Kim.”, then rounded the corner into the main dining area.

Then went beyond it, weaving through to the back and 4 darkly painted doors, closed tight to the world. Stopped at the second one, she opened it then stood aside, polite and quiet. Namjoon let you lead and followed seconds later. After a murmured exchange the door clicked shut.

By then you’d focused on pretending to study the table settings. Everything was immaculate, from the silver ice bucket with an emerald bottle frosting under the lights at the table’s center, to the plates with an expensive looking line work running the perimeter and even the glimmering flutes, empty and waiting in front of each place setting.

Namjoon caught your glance as he parted ways and came around to stand across the way, on the table’s other side. “I think we’ll enjoy this..”

Your brows lifted as you touched the back of the chair directly in front of you. It wasn’t long before your fingers curled the darkly finished wood as nerves had tiny hairs on the back of your neck lifting.

“We will?” You ventured, adding a miniscule smile. Relaxation came when Namjoon nodded.

“I think so. You’ve been out to dinner before.. I’m sure.”

“Yeah.” You conceded. “Not here though.” It shouldn’t matter but it did–between you and this man there were a lot of economic gaps, although he never flaunted it in a way that made you feel like you didn’t belong.

THAT was all of your own making. And right now it was particularly strong when you noticed the name on the bottle when Namjoon leaned over the table to grab and lift it from the ice bucket. He hoisted it up enough to peer at the label, then shot you a look.

“You’ve had alcohol before?” When you nodded he mirrored it, going on. “Good. This is a special bottle. Very,VERY rare.”

“Should we be wasting it?” He set the bottle down on the table then came around to you again. Standing close his skin had dried enough that he was rosy from the returning warmth, out of the cool night air. And hints of his cologne teased your senses, inducing an unconscious swallow.

It wasn’t like this was the first night you’d been out on a date. Or even the first night you’d been out to dinner with Namjoon, but something about this night felt beautifully tense–especially with the size of the knot it was winding deep in your belly.

Namjoon had the chair out and inclined his head. “Sit. Please?” Another smile–full of dimples.

He pushed you close to the table and moved away a moment later, taking his seat quietly. When you took a look at the small menu near your plate, he turned focus back to the bottle, working on opening it.

You wanted to watch how easily he opened the champagne. You’d seen it done in movies but couldn’t ever master it, even with the cheap bottles from the store. No telling how much THIS one cost and that meant there was even less of a chance you’d take the risk of “practicing” the act.

Instead you squinted at the small type on the creamy cardstock between your twitching fingers. You went over the appetizer and main course unsure of a few words. French hadn’t been your strong point and some of the ingredients you didn’t recognize from all your episodes of Top Chef to have a single clue.

The cork pop as Namjoon opened the champagne made you jump and pulled his eyes to you again. This time he half smirked.

“Sorry..” He filled one glass roughly halfway and passed it over, then poured for himself. As you sniffed the glass contents you watched him return the bottle to the bucket, then touch the flute rim to his lips. No hesitation, Namjoon tipped the glass and his head back, swallowing a sizable mouthful. You watched the flexion in his throat and licked your lips.

“What do you think?” He asked and you looked up from the menu again. No luck once more. You decided to give up. It would be a nice surprise to see what came out soon.

“Of?” You blinked, then giggled when Namjoon pointed at the champagne. “Ah…It’s…interesting.”

“That’s telling. Not your preferred brand?”

“It’s not that.” You laid the menu down, feeling warmth climbing your neck. For a single moment you wished to be back out in the chill of the night. It would help even out your body and brain.

“Explain?”

“I haven’t had anything like this before, to be honest.”

“This?” He wasn’t mocking and there was a sweet, curious interest in his tone. You couldn’t be mad at that. Maybe any other date would be a prick about your lack of experience with the finer things in life.

“Well.. a nice dinner at a place with a menu I can’t read.” Except for the prices, you couldn’t understand anything else and that universal language of money was enough to put you back in the understanding that you weren’t meant to be somewhere like this, let alone with someone like Namjoon.

But he didn’t seem plussed. In fact, he eased back into his chair and tilted his head with an easy spread to his lips.

“I can translate.”

“It’s not that.” You returned to the same feeling again, offering a weak smile. “I just…This isn’t me.”

“If I’m honest it’s not really what I wanted tonight, either. I wanted to experience things with you, Y/n. I can’t always hit a homerun. Sometimes I get it wrong—we can go somewhere else.”

You hesitated this time, searching that handsome face across the way for any betraying microexpression but none showed. For all you could tell he wasn’t upset in the least. Which was nice.

“--You sure? This is a beautiful restaurant. It’s got…fancy food.” Fancy meant expensive and probably so good you’d ascend. But that also felt like a lot of strangeness you might not be able to get over. And he HAD made the comment about wanting to experience things with you.

“Let’s get out of here then. Where do YOU want to go?” Namjoon leaned into the tabletop with both elbows, voice a few decibels lower.

You scoffed. “Seriously?”

Namjoon nodded. “Absolutely. Doesn’t matter where–anything goes. The only criteria is that you're comfortable and relaxed. If you want to try things with me, then let's change it up a bit. You take ME to something you’ve always wanted to try. We can make this night end much better..”

“Okay.” You only took a moment to consider, then nodded. Namjoon was up again and came to your seat. He was even faster pulling it away from the table enough for you to stand.

“We just came in from the rain out there–” You protested, but lambasted yourself to get the hell out of your own way. He was trying to reshape the night, open to adapting any plans he had. The least you could do was NOT complain about trivial stuff.

“--And we’re going back out into it.” His breath caressed your cheek, his fingers gliding through to gather your hair back. Namjoon smiled again and continued, every syllable delightfully tickling. “..You lead the way. We’ll learn together.”

--------------------------------------------------------

“You can take your shoes off in here or the main living room.” Namjoon called back as you let the penthouse door shut at your back. You’d been here before a handful of times and it was a little easier each time. Even as new as things were with him, you were at least used to this space and THIS collection of expensiveness all in one place.

Namjoon’s form strolled through the foyer, broad shoulders writhing as they escaped the suit jacket. He dropped it onto a rack of hooks as he passed them by and finally turned to face you. With the light at his back it was impossible to see his face. To read his expression. But from his tone he was smiling.

“Don’t be afraid. You know I don’t bite. Been a while since you’ve been here.”

“It has..” You murmured, pacing his path, nipples tightening from the chill of the bare marble foyer floor under your soles. As you came close Namjoon undid his tie and tugged it down to a yawning O, letting it hang around his neck.

“What do you want to do here? I can make us something—or if you’d like another drink, I have A LOT more options.”

“Water is fine.” You smiled. There wasn't much preamble between Namjoon’s silence to study you and when the back of a few nails traced the apple of your cheek. You turned into his touch, savoring the blooming warmth of his naked palm. Your thoughts and the world slowed in a pulse that started right between your thighs.

“I can get that for you.” You didn’t have time to say thank you before Namjoon and his touch were both gone,into the living room area, then beyond. A door opened and closed far away as you strained to listen and imagine his movements with your vague familiarity of his penthouse layout.

He was back soon enough,small glass of water in hand. You took it and sipped as he took the tie off and dropped it onto the top of a small side table nearby. He started to reach up to the buttons of his dress shirt then paused.

Like he’d been struck with some sudden and miraculous idea, Namjoon stalled. He arched one brow.

“Y/n..”

“Yeah?” You managed after swallowing a healthy mouthful of chilled water. A pity the glass was half empty now. You hadn’t realized just how parched you’d been, but staring at Namjoon was hard work. And that meant the thirst was real, on several fronts.

Your friends could never, EVER appreciate it, even when they’d oohed and ahhed over his interviews in various Fortune 500 type magazines that you’d checked out from the library to give them proof of life.

“I want to try something with you.”

“That’s a huge opening you’ve left. I could drive a semi through it. What’s the catch?” You set the glass down, determined to finishing it sooner rather than later.

“No catch.” He chuckled. “I’m being a little vague but I want to make sure you’re comfortable here. Are you?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have asked to come here. I could have just asked to go back to my place.”

“True.” He nodded. “And you know I’d take you there in a heartbeat.”

You sighed, a little dreamily. “Yeah.”

Namjoon paused again, like he was calculating something under his lowered brows, then began again.

“What you said in the restaurant got me thinking.”

“I said a lot. Which part?”

“That restaurant…it wasn’t you. The…experience–expensive food and decor. The overall environment. We’ve been dating a little while but I want to give you things you haven’t experienced.”

You nodded. “You have.”

“Maybe I’m not talking about money wise.”

You met his heavy stare. It wasn’t in the least bit awkward the way he stepped close, his front almost touching you, staring down his nose, right into your eyes. And you, swaying lightly, looking up into his relaxed face. Calm curiosity was back on his features.

I wouldn’t object if you gave me the experience of touching me again. You coughed gently, hinting. “What then..”

“There’s things you haven’t done. ..Experienced.” A nod. He had to ask these softball questions fully knowing. But why?

“Yes.”

“I’m going to ask you something and I want the truth. We haven’t really…discussed this and I think here is the best place–now is the best time–to have that talk.”

Uh oh. “Um–”

He tutted when your lips worked as fresh chills washed over your torso. Had he gone rogue and dug up some dark secret from your background? Namjoon’s level of wealth and power, he had to know how to vet someone in ways they couldn’t hide even with the most herculean efforts. He’d find it out–wouldn’t stop until he did.

“It’s not like that. This isn’t a gotcha. Just…want to ask. And I want the truth. Fair enough?”

“Sure.” You watched his hand come up and fondle a strand of your hair before sliding it behind your ear. He tickled that lobe and smirked.

“You’ve been with a man before.” He waited for your nod. “...Have you ever..undressed a man?”

“What?” You swayed a little more obviously. Namjoon’s grip settled on your shoulder, righting you gently. “What’s that mean? I’ve seen a guy undress.”

“Not what I asked.” There was a sweet patience in the twist of his lips.

“I.---”

“Y/n..” When he caressed under your chin your head lifted and fell back from the ghost of pressure. Your lids gained several pounds and you whined in the beginnings of horny confusion.

No need to hide that from this man. Namjoon had seen every inch of you naked. Maybe not at every angle, but you could be open to changing that. He was a grown man. Healthy. Interested in you. Raring to go. And that was turning your brain into a blended mess of hormones and chaos.

“Yes?” You gasped. When the back of his pointer finger knuckle traveled along your lips, you pressed them to the point and exhaled when his lids lowered in response.

“It’s one thing to see a man take his clothes off. Have YOU ever taken a man’s clothes off.”

“A shirt, sure.”

“--All of it. Head to toe. Shirt. Pants..under those things…”

“No.” You quietly conceded. He didn’t let your head lower. It was more habit than shame. Namjoon never made you feel awkward or bad about your green nature with a lot of this relationship stuff.

“Will you do it for me?”

A long blink and his face blurred until your eyes focused on those soft dimples and the faint parting of his lips in a flirtatious grin.

“Undress you?” Namjoon nodded and his thumb pulled at your lower lip. You whined and his teeth sank into his lip.

“Please?” He whispered. “You can say no…if it’s really—”

“Yes.” You coughed. “I…just.. I don’t know what to do but..if you don’t mind me fumbling through–.”

“I was inexperienced too. The best way to learn is to do. The hands-on approach is the best route, if you ask me.” He had the knowledge of years–lord knew how many–of experience at this. It was hard to believe he was ever inexperienced or new. Nervous or fumbled at anything, especially with the way he touched you.

Eventually you let your head bob and he stepped back, gently collecting your wrist. He didn’t speak, heading for the living room space. Then going beyond it–right for the hallway. The one that led to the bedroom.

Namjoon stood just out of reach from the end of the bed. A california king style, spanning what felt like the entirety of the room. In reality it was impressively wide–like Namjoon himself, but right now you had a bit of a skewed perspective. Bravely you stepped close to him. Within reach of that big chest. His eyes trained on your face, he inhaled,puffing a bit.

“I took care of the tie..” Namjoon chuckled. “Hope you can forgive my robbing you of that.” You snickered and reached up to put your hands on his pecs. The firmness was palpable through the crisp fabric. You walked fingers inwards, heading for the buttons.

“That’s right..” He murmured. “Keeping going..”

Your fingers felt weak. Uncoordinated. But you managed anyway, popping several buttons open, heading down to just above his navel before you paused again, checking his stare for approval or direction. He only offered a serene smile and silence.

You undid more buttons, rewarded with the tight, perfect smoothness of his skin–the line of belly muscles and upwards, where the firm shapes of his pectoral muscles waited when you spread the material apart further and further. Namjoon groaned briefly and his head went back when you leaned close. Like he was anticipating your next move.

And the things it did to your insides… You felt light headed again but rallied. Pushing the shirt off his shoulders, you watched it slide down, pooling around the crooks of his elbows. At least he wasn’t wearing cufflinks tonight. You’d seen them before and he even tried to explain the differences before, but you were only supremely grateful right now for one less roadblock. One less challenge for your confused mind.

He twisted a little to help you push the sleeves down his wrist and tug each one off. The shirt hung around his waist, still tucked into his slacks. You touched the waist of the pants and heard his breath hitch.

Heat swelled between your legs. No way you dared to look up right now. His scent washed over you, almost choking every molecule of air from your lungs–not that you minded. Your nostrils flared when the waist button popped open. The slacks zipper was almost silent sliding down. He didn’t move as you pushed the pants down his hips. The shirt free, it finally dropped to the floor at Namjoon’s back.

“That’s much better.” He grumbled. “Keep going. A bit more left, sweetheart.”

Your head swam dangerously, fingers gripping his hips. Underneath that grasp the material of his boxer briefs provided a nearly frictionless glide. And what that tight material encased just above his thighs was enough to humble you even to the edges of your best, more explicit fantasies. Until Namjoon, you had no conception how good a real man could feel when he was yours alone.

“You’ve got me so hard already. Take it all off. Almost there..” His quiet murmuring eventually penetrated the hum in your brain, clearing away the fog.

“Jesus..” You whined, lips touching the center of his chest as your thumbs dove between his skin and the waist of the briefs. The material dropped, sliding down the pillars of his thighs slowly. He barely lifted one foot, then the other, shaking each until the briefs met the ground around his feet.

Immediately your hand found Namjoon’s cock, wrapping the thick shaft. He was already pulsing as your fingers tightened. His eyes rolled a little and he gulped, then let out a louder groan.

“You feel so good..” You gasped, turning your profile into his skin. Inhaling and letting the tip of your tongue explore, leaving a wet, meandering trail. Fingers combed up the back of your head and he palmed your skull, guiding it back.

He was kissing you deep so suddenly. And it lingered on until you had to pull away and suck in a breath. The euphoria of being oxygen starved rushed through you and everything around you in the room became wobbling shapes. Shadows, changing form in a blink.

“Y/n..” He broke another kiss, lips close enough to graze your lower lip. If he only knew how badly you wanted the suction and the satisfying pop of release. He’d already proved to have amazing lips–strong and firm. Could suck the soul right out of you, if you let it go on too long.

“Mnnnnn.” You whined.

“What else haven’t you done with a man? Tell me. I want to do it. I want to be a first for you.”

Jesus Christ Namjoon. You ARE a ‘first’. You in my life is a thing so brand new it’s unheard of for me. You swallowed and tried to chase his lips but however closer you leaned, Namjoon kept his mouth just as far away, controlling things. As was the status quo. He was much less at the mercy of his hormones than you.

“I haven’t really felt fingers…”

“Where?” His smile spanned so wide there was a devilish angle. Teeth flashed and he nosed your chin, forcing your head back. His lips rode down your jugular.

“You know..”

“I don’t..” He hissed at your collarbone. “Tell me.”

“I..Inside me.”

“Your mouth? Where, baby?” He was probably enjoying the coy, ignorant side he was playing right now. It worked well to force you to reply. But so did the growing ache chewing through your folds under the darkness of your dress and the satin panty barrier separating your modesty from the undoing that was coming down the pike.

“Namjoon..”

“Y/n..” A feathering touch traced up your inner thigh and stopped short of going under the dress where it was wet and burning hot. You wanted to faint but screwed your eyes shut. “All you have to do is tell me. We can make it happen..”

“Inside me. My…pussy.. Here..” You slid a palm over your mound, cupping. The pressure was driving you mad but it was also serving to make it clear–if he still wanted to play dumb. He pulled back and glanced down between your bodies and circled the back of your knuckles of the hand still cradled over your sex.

“You’ve never been fingered before?”

“No.” You wheezed. It was the god’s honest truth. If he wasn’t bullshitting he’d be down to remedy that tonight. So far Namjoon’s track record was favoring “asking because he wants the answer and wants to fix it”, so you weren’t worried.

“That’s…God.. Who would pass up a chance to slide inside you however they can fit?” He rumbled behind seal lips and stepped away, taking his touch with it. Your hand moved away from that molten center at the top of your thighs and you trained swimming vision on his tall form.

“Considering how sensitive you are normally..this is going to feel good for you.” He observed at normal volume. Casual. It was hard to determine if he was talking to you or thinking out loud. Either way it had you woozy again.

“Let’s satisfy that curiosity then, hmm? Get on the bed–on your back, please.”

The bed was as comfortable as it had proved to be from your memory of all the previous times you laid here. Post sex. Pre sex. Gasping and sweating. Tangled up with Namjoon’s long limbs, lips sucking and pressing. Losing your mind under impossible thread count sheets.

The coolness was a nice change as you set and scooted back until your feet were just at the end. Namjoon had walked away, then came back and laid something on the bed near your left leg. You tried to look but he kissed your shin and growled.

“Eyes on me.”

As he commanded, you did, watching the crown of his head lower as he slid fingers up your legs, then your thighs, escaping up under the dress until he found the panties. They came down faster than his briefs. Bunched in his fist, he brought them to his nose, huffing deep and slow. Once soft, adoring eyes, hardened to something more primal. Hungry. He dropped the panties on the bed near your foot and mounted the bed, crawling up between your calves, working them apart with his widely spread knees digging into the yielding plush of the memory foam mattress topper.

“The thing I’ve learned about exploring and pleasuring a woman is that it’s most important to have as much direct skin contact as possible. There’s so many nerve endings in every square inch. Maybe more than a man’s body..” He droned quietly, watching the dress slide up your skin, to the space just above your hips where it was narrow, then out again, up to your breasts. Then off into a haphazard pile on top of one nearby pillow. One of many barricading the headboard.

“I’m..nervous..” It came out as Namjoon’s eyes roamed your naked skin. He’d been about to cup your breasts and paused, looking up again.

“I get in my own head too, sometimes. Close your eyes for me. It helps..”

“I can’t..” You were telling the whole truth. As heavy as your lids felt earlier, the nervousness was back, pinning your eyes wide open. Your belly trembled with several deep breaths. Namjoon watched your navel shivering as it rose and fell and cooed.

“Sweetheart..” A spiral around the divot of your navel froze you. He followed down to your mound, riding the shape further. When he touched your hood your ass lifted off the bed a little and Namjoon growled again.

“So responsive. There’s probably the most nerve endings here..” He swept the wide pad of his thumb over your clit, pulling the hood back and letting it slide back in place. Electricity crawled your scalp as you shuddered.

Your thighs fell away from each other and Namjoon moved both his knees wider, pinning them just a bit further apart. It felt good but the stretch at the center of your core wasn’t much diminished. The cool bedroom air washing over your folds helped for a second.

“Let’s see..” He breathed, tracing the tip of his pointer finger around your hood, then dipping into your flesh and splitting your seal. It made your thighs shake as they tried to fight his strong muscles to no avail. The convulsion to snap shut was eliminated. It wasn’t happening so long as this man was kneeling between your legs.

When his finger entered you it drew another lungful of air when you gasped. Your breasts arched, head pushing backwards into the bed. A low moan rippled up your throat as his finger pulled back and dove in again, deeper. It was a few plunges and he went to the third knuckle.

“I…Oh my god..J..joon..please..” You keened, feeling drunk. Feeling like fire was running right up the center, splitting your pussy in half. Namjoon added a second finger after a few slow thrusts. Your eyes finally shut, upper body rolling sharply to one side. He planted his other palm gently onto your abdomen.

“Now now..princess..” He chuckled. “That’s a common reaction. Feel good?” When your head snapped up and down he murmured approvingly. It was getting wetter. Sliding much too easily. You could hear the soft crackle of your pussy sucking up both digits when they dove in and retreated.

But it went on for a while, the pleasure building in your belly in the form of a giant, heavy ball. Namjoon slowed, fingers paused inside you, to spiral this thumb against your clit. Your walls squeezed and he hissed through set teeth.

“Fuck..that’s what I love. Finding the right spot and the squeezing—” He trailed off, dropping his head between your thighs. Latching onto your clit, Namjoon sucked, sawing his fingers firmer and faster, in and out.

Minutes swam by. Before you knew it, he’d come up just enough to talk into the moist skin of your mound. Wetness clinging in ropes against his lips and your flesh as his lips moved. He sounded almost breathless. Excited.

“Y/n…Baby..” He crooned. You couldn’t lift your head. Couldn’t open your eyes. Couldn’t do a damn thing but pull at his fingers with your aching muscles. You needed more than that, but it was almost too much at the same time.

The sensory overload told the same story: enough to override everything and have you cumming soon. You knew that buzzing in your flesh. You knew the tightening in the skin below your opening. You knew the spastic flutters when he sucked just hard enough or stabbed at just the right angle.

Your body twisted, chest rising and falling in a fresh panic. You were close to a high that promised to be just as impressive as any session with a vibrator or riding this man’s perfect cock the few times you’d had it.

Syllables left your lips. From the fragments Namjoon could tell enough that he was heading the right direction. Praise rained on your senses again as his fingers moved, deeper. Twisted and pressed. A third joined the first two and your spine straightened, heels digging into the bed. Namjoon leaned into his palm as he swept over your front wall and lightning crashed through your brain.

You stiffened, choking on nothing as pressure turned into a wash of ecstasy so unique. Different from the clit stimulation he’d been giving. He was watching your face, modest smile on his shining lips.

“Like that… It’s a nice spot. Once you find it..you can’t leave it alone. You tell me when you can’t hold it anymore, Y/n. Don’t worry about what happens. Just relax and lean into it.” Whatever he was saying was vaguely registering. Instead your ass rocked up and down against the bed as he fucked his fingers into you firmer and faster.

Your hands clawed the sheets. Found skin, bare and muscle, and sank against it, tugging. He didn’t change pace or pause. If it hurt, it wasn’t showing on his face. All that remained was Namjoon’s heavy stare, watching you like a hawk.

Another stab right into that spot he’d massaged before and a wave of cold washed you from head to toe. Your spine changed to an S shape as you twisted two directions–from the waist up and down.

“That’s it..” He snapped, breathing against your never as he worked your pussy more and more, stirring against your g spot. Pushing and probing like he was expecting any moment you’d blow. “Hold it as long as you can…. I know it’s a lot of pressure..you just want to push.. Just..a little more, Y/n..”

He’d only finished the request and your mind whited as a massive, menacing clench seized your walls. You shrieked and shuddered, wrapping fingers around what had to be his forearm rising from the palm braced against your abdomen.

“It’s…I…” You gurgled, going dizzy again. “P..please..” Pleading for no reason but also beaming every single ounce of desire that he NOT stop. The orgasm was so slow and explosive as it opened up inside you.

The pressure exploded as something eventually rushed out of you, chasing Namjoon’s fingers as they slipped free. His distant, approving laugh was almost musical as you came. And continued to cum. Wet heat pooled below your ass and grew in size until it was clear: this wouldn’t be a modest little spot on clean white sheets.

This would be something else entirely and the urge to push finally passed as you fell back against the bed.

“Oh my god..” You lamented at full volume, forearm shielding your eyes as you turned away from the confusion and reality flooding in. Your chest still burned for air as you laid there, drinking in lungfuls.

Namjoon hadn’t moved from where he’d been, except to lean down and lick a wide stripe across one nipple. Then he tugged with his lips and popped free.

“Know what you just did, baby? It was so fucking hot..”

“I’m sorry..” You bleated. “I…ruined your bed I—”

“No.” Namjoon barked against the underside of a breast as he rooted there, kissing. Sucking. Making art out of love bites ringing the plump, doughy flesh now bathed in a light sweat. “Your body responded perfectly. In the best way. Guess you didn’t know you had a g-spot did you?”

“..A what?” You replied.

“Uh huh… Not every girl responds like that but god…YOU did. And I love it. So SO much. When it happens from my cock–”

“You can…make me feel like this on your cock?”

“Mnnnhmmm.” He purred, coming up to lean over you, gazing down into your eyes. “The mess is even better. Something happens inside. Fucking through that kind of wetness… It’s such a beautiful, rare thing. There’s positions that work so good… We have some time tonight, if you want to explore them.”

“Is that what YOU want?”

“I left the night up to you, Y/n.” He laughed quietly, bringing your head off the bed, cupped in the comfort of his palm, then his lips sank against you. Moans traded between you as your lips wrestled against Namjoon’s, drawing out his tongue and pushing it back with your own.

He was SUCH an amazing kisser. You’d lost so much time kissing with partners who barely understood the first thing about a proper, satisfying kiss. Here Namjoon was, rectifying and rewriting history.

After another long, deep, lingering kiss you spoke again. “Namjoon… What…what happened? What did I…do?”

“You ruined my sheets, Y/n.”

“God…you make it sound—”

“Shh. You never had this happen before?”

“No. This is the first.. You’re my…first.”

“Oh my god..” His eyes almost rolled up and shut as Namjoon’s chest boomed again with a long groan. “That’s going to make me pop… and I’m not even inside you. You handled my fingers as well as you took my cock. I really didn’t doubt it but…”

“But I..made a mess..” You wiggled underneath him, more aware of the rapidly cooling dampness under your ass. It was getting more unpleasant, which meant more understanding it was YOUR fault.

“And it’s fucking HOT. I’ll take care of that. Promise me…you’ll let me make you do it again?”

“Joon…god..” You buried your face against one broad shoulder and Namjoon didn’t pull away, nosing along your scalp.

“I’m serious, baby. This isn’t something that we do once. We can explore it. I’m prepared to show you some other firsts in that vein of experience. Do you trust me?”

“Wouldn’t be at your place, naked, spread on your bed if I didn’t.” You scoffed.

“Mmnnnn. And I’ll do what it takes to show you I love having you like this. Now… I’ll grab some water and a towel. You stay here, got it?”

“Joon..”

“Say yes, Y/n. This isn’t a debate. It’s a Yes or No.”

“Yes.” You finally sighed, letting your body sink back into the bed when he pulled away, sat up, then backed down the bed to stand upright. You only watched so much as he turned and walked away, engorged cock slowly swaying and bobbing with every few steps until his shape disappeared from the view you had with the strength barely scraped from the meager remains.

This beat the hell out of a fancy dinner with dishes you couldn’t pronounce. But that also meant another bonus: Namjoon spoiling you tonight: being your teacher and your cook. Your boyfriend. Your complete indulgence and the key to things you hadn’t even begun to learn about yourself.

Which meant this night was going to be pretty damn good.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fic rec #sis stuff

30 notes · View notes

worldwideseal · 3 months

Text

❤️

next up on my reading list tonight 🦭🍷💐

Sweetest Taboo (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 24.3k (ish)

Pairing: Namjoon x Female Reader (Y/n)

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Drug use (weed), drinking, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, kissing, biting/scratching, you’re shy in this one, deflowering/losing virginity/virginity kink, hand jobs, orgasms (yours and his), multiple orgasms, brother-sister antagonism, teasing, flirting, lighthearted fighting, cumming on you, implied possible creampie, missionary sex, cowgirl, brother’s best friend attraction, house party stuff,implied romance, secret crush/mutual pining, undressing, making out, dumb decisions/risky behavior, taboo elements. Probably missed something but oh well!

Genre: PwP, Friends to Lovers

AUs: College Namjoon/College BTS

Summary: You expected your brother to come home from college for a visit with his best friend. It’s never been a big deal because his friend has been more like family—at least until this weekend.

Author’s Note: This took me FOREVER to finish. I started it nearly 3 months ago, maybe more and worked on it in pieces. For the lovely and incomparable @worldwideseal. Ignore typos and just enjoy, if hot college boy Namjoon is a ‘thing’ for you, dear reader.

The usual: ignore typos, plot holes, grammar stuff. It's not about any of that. I barely managed to edit and proofread this in chunks so it ain't perfect and it never will be.

Thank you for reading and giving kudos, if you liked it. Reblogging is never required but appreciated, if you feel so inspired to do it.

Tag List: @kiestrokes

It started with a pair of shoes at the door.

An innocuous gesture, but noticeable enough–almost every day this week. You weren’t as accepting today, kicking off your shoes after bumping the front door closed and kicking your flats towards the usual spot.

A spot now occupied by familiar Nikes–pristine except for trace scuffs along the outsoles. THESE weren’t your brother’s shoes. He’d shit himself if he saw a single mark on his precious babies. HIS shoes were secure and neatly tucked on the other side of these sneakers. Laces untied, but tucked inside the shoe. Toes facing perfect forward, parallel.

Heaving a sigh, you nudged a bare toe against both flats, pushing them up onto the sneaker tops and turned away. Padding onto cool tile felt sinfully good as you headed for the open kitchen space.

And right to where the evidence lay: two half empty glasses of tea. The remnants of pasta in twin white bowls. You rounded the island and stopped by the fridge for the sparkling peach Pellegrino that had been calling your name since after lunch on campus.

It was the last and it was yours. A bright spot in your otherwise uneventful afternoon.

Gulping down a mouthful of peachy carbonation, you eyed the remains of this pre-dinner snack. No doubt who it was. Normally a one person mess wasn’t a big deal but with an extra set of dirty dishes, it was suddenly all about the principle. The annoyance that seemed to spike as your nose twinged from the bubbles rising through after a big swallow.

Can met the counter, contents sloshing. I didn’t make this mess. This time, I’m not cleaning it up.

Your brother—and his accomplice. Not a doubt it was their handiwork. Your brother knew better, even granting his ‘guest’ the benefit of the doubt. Today your lack of sleep from the previous night left you little-to-no room to scrounge up patience.

The first goal to solve this problem was easy enough: find that slob of a brother–which you wasted no time on, making your way from the kitchen to the living room. On the hunt, looking for those trace signs that he was home.

Certain house ‘rules’ and routines your brother was religious about following. Others it was like he never heard the words from your parents’ lips. Just deaf as a post, with the world's shortest, shittiest memory for things he didn’t want to do.

You followed the signs, each one clearer as you strode through the room, heading into the far hall, towards the main den. Getting there meant passing the door to the garage.

You’d barely moved by the wood frame and caught an undisputable scent: skunk. Pungent enough for the trace amounts teasing your senses. It stalled you in mid stride, drawing your eyes to the brassy knob and whatever guilty party might be beyond it.

There was no hesitation or a single word of warning as you pushed the door open, then leaned through. The lingering weed scent got clearer, even over the layer of incense and Frebreeze. Your nose wasn’t that sensitive, but you knew what WASN’T allowed in this house.

Your parents weren’t teetotalers, but they’d lose their minds over recreational drugs.

Bare feet propped on the couch arm nearer to you and book to his face, your brother’s half lidded eyes roamed the page in front of him without straying your way. It could have been that he was used to you barging in, but likely it was his now altered state of mind.

At least there was no frowning and moaning for you to ‘go away’. And he’d kept his chosen music lower, the strains of prog rock drifting around the finished space. It was an interesting choice considering you usually heard more raucous sounds behind the shut door as he bellowed his way through weight lifting ‘sessions’ several nights a week.

Your brother’s long toes barely flexed. He popped a few, then curled all of them with a low groan. A page turned. His brows rose briefly.

“Mark..” You began, hands already on your hips.

At least now he looked at you over the top of the book. You didn’t need to see his face–he had that smirk. The one you knew would wind you up.

“Y/n.”

“What the hell is that–” You nodded backwards. He’d know what you meant. He knew damned well when he chose to walk away and leave the chaos on your mother’s counters that were sparkling clean earlier this morning.

He was older and that meant he had more experience, but that also didn’t mean he should be comfortable enough to disrespect your parents because he wasn’t living at home anymore. Campus life was different–that much you understood when he came home on the weekends with laundry in tow, smile flagging, but that didn’t mean it was okay to forget the house rules.

…Not that you’d had the most perfect track record of following them yourself, but that was beside the point right now.

Mark squinted past you. “That?” A hum came. He was…yawning. You wanted to pick up the nearby decorative ashtray with very telltale ashes in it and perfect your aim. THAT had to be the source of what you’d smelled that led you here.

“I don’t know..” He thumbed through a few more pages, then went quiet for a bit. The couch squeaked as he shifted and you grunted. Mark looked up again, this time his eyes narrowed with a hint of annoyance.

“What?”

“The mess in the kitchen.” You scoffed, arms crossing instead, like hugging your middle would keep you from leaping over the couch end and pulling him to his feet, even if he had a few inches on you in height.

“Oh.” His feet traded spots, shoulders shifting as he hunkered down. Yours rose as a band of pressure tightened along your forehead.

“Oh..” Your tone was a little mocking but truth be told you KNEW he knew better. It was really about laziness right now. You didn’t feel like cleaning up and it was a huge gamble to believe he’d get that kitchen disaster sorted before your parents came home.

And imagining either of them cleaning up the mess they didn’t make was beyond irritating. Your brother was as good as a guest at the moment, the way you saw it.

“What do you want me to do about it, Y/n?”

“Wild concept but… Clean it up.”

“I will.”

“When?”

The book snapped shut and Mark huffed, tossing it onto the coffee table nearby. He stood, weaving a little for a few seconds, then smoothed his t-shirt over his front and licked his lips.

“Fine. Now, Y/n. I’ll take care of it. I was waiting for my friend to come back. He helped me make the snacks and he offered to help clean it up.”

“Your friend?” That made sense seeing two bowls. You’d been right on that account–the mystery still remaining was WHO among his associates was he talking about.

Mark looked at you and his stare held for a moment as a smirk moved across his face. Already he strode around the coffee table, heading towards the doorway. You slowly turned, following him with your eyes, then your steps.

“Hey..” You called, chasing your brother’s retreating back. “Who?”

“Is that important? They’re going to help me clean up.”

You both entered the kitchen and your brother’s footsteps padded towards the mess. He paused at the counter, surveying like it required a detailed plan of attack. You watch him, chewing your lip. Either his brain was that muddled or he was being purposefully dense, which he sometimes liked to do back when he still lived at home.

Mark picked up a bowl and a few silverware pieces, dropping them in with a clatter before he shot you a look.

“I mean it doesn’t matter..” You mumbled. “..But it’d be nice to know. I thought ALL your friends knew the rules.”

“House rules? Geez Y/n. I missed you but I don’t miss this enforcement kick you’re on every time I come home for a visit.”

“It’s every weekend, hardly rare. Enough for you to remember the rules and follow them.”

You reached for a crumpled napkin but Mark hissed at you, head shaking. Your hand retreated and both clenched into fist that worked into your denim pockets. A flash of offense warmed you from belly to neck.

“Ever the loving sister..” Mark sighed, smiling. It was his patient smile and a little lopsided. He turned away and placed the collected dishware into the sink, then turned back, continuing.

“If you must know—”

“I’d like to..” You corrected, brows pinched. Sheer curiosity. It was much quieter without your brother here now that he’d started living on campus. Just you and your parents most of the time made for a big, empty house. It hadn’t felt that way when he was still around before graduation.

Mark’s smile thinned but his eyes brightened. Although he dropped his answer casually, it fell like a bomb.

“Namjoon Kim.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Namjoon Kim.

Namjoon….

“Namjoon FUCKING Kim.” You gasped into the receiver, phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, hitched up high as you reclined against your headboard, eyes on the bedroom door. Even saying the name out loud didn’t dim the shock. His name had been bouncing around in your skull since your brother said a while ago.

The bedroom door lock was safely engaged but that didn’t ease the needling panic and rushing energy. Both feelings that were brand spanking new, made worse because it wasn’t over someone you’d never met.

Namjoon had history. With your parents. With your brother.

AND with you, even if you hadn’t really considered visiting your opinion of him at Mark’s graduation, beaming shoulder to shoulder with your brother while posing for a mutual photo. Or at your celebratory high school graduation party–a modest barbecue with the family and handful of friends. One of the times your brother came back home.

“Namjoon? Who?” Your friend’s confusion was genuine enough as she sighed back at you through the ear piece. You pinched some of the phone cord and wound it around your finger, watching the tip change color a little as pressure cinched against blood flow.

“You KNOW who he is..” You hinted, lower lip between your teeth as they gnawed again. This time harder and more quickly.

“I guess. Isn’t that the guy your brother is good friends with? It’s so hard to keep track. He was a pretty popular guy in high school..”

“Good friends.” Your eyes rolled. The trapped finger slipped free and both calves slid against each other. You felt like squirming but couldn’t exactly understand why the compulsion was so damned strong from just a name.

“Try BEST friends. Brothers, practically.”

“I think it’s kinda sweet.” Your friend giggled. “You’re my best friend, so I get it..”

“Listen, what should I do?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing to ‘do’.” After her heavy sigh, you caught rustling and the sounds of tv in the background. From the variation in voices, she was probably flipping through channels. You could just choke on the envy over how not pressed she was at this moment.

She’d seen Namjoon in the past. Called him cute and a little goofy. Proclaimed him a lot more helpful and considerate than your brother had been when any friends were over.

After a minute you swallowed and relaxed. Why were you making this a big deal when it really shouldn’t be?

Namjoon was nice.

He’d never been anything but quiet and shy at the worst. Minimum, he was always decent. Your parents loved him and you couldn’t say you’d hated him being there when you’d come home from school last year or the year before. …Or the year before that.

“You’re right..” You finally replied. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I guess it’s just…I haven’t seen him since my brother lived here. Every time Mark comes home, he’s alone. Guess I wasn’t prepared for a plus one.”

Not a male version, anyway. You figured a girlfriend would grace the threshold eventually. Especially after 2 years and change of university life.

“Plus one..” Another giggle. The tv volume inched up. Plastic crinkled. Your friend munched audibly. “This isn’t a wedding reception or dinner party, Y/n. It’s a weekend home from college.”

“Yeah.” Every second you felt lamer and lamer. Your friend was nothing if not totally on point. You needed to get out of your own head.

“Did he clean up?”

“Hmm?” You blinked. Leg now hanging off the bed, you watched several toes swing over a faux white shag rug before planting one sole into the plush.

“Your brother.” Your friend answered, tone flat. You could imagine the half lidded stare, her lips thinned and twisted at bemused angles.

“Yeah–they both did. It wasn’t just his mess.”

“Well that’s nice.”

“It is. House rules aren’t just for people who still live here. Mark knows better.”

“Good thing I never have that problem. We don’t make that kind of mess.” A little untrue but you didn’t correct her. At the very worst of it, even your combined mess together didn’t equal the squalor Mark and Namjoon had made of the countertop.

Your other foot sank into the decorative rug’s long fibers, then all ten toes wiggled. “Namjoon did a good job loading the dishwasher.” You added.

“How do you know he did it?”

“They were pre-rinsed. Mark NEVER did that. I might have heard him when I walked through to grab my books from the living room. Namjoon was pretty stern. ..Said something about Mark half-assing it.”

“Sounds pretty accurate. Namjoon’s still a good guy then.”

“As far as housekeeping and family rules? Yes. So far, so good.”

“So…Is he staying for dinner?” Your friend didn’t miss a beat, going right for the big question filling up the room that you couldn’t bear to say. Asking for the most important bit of detail, really.

“I..” You gulped, finding your throat oddly tight. It was only a second and gone just as quickly, letting you finish “..didn’t ask.”

“Hmph.” Your friend chewed through the sound again. She coughed, then drank something loudly.

“It’s a good question. We’ll see. I don’t even know what they’re planning. Probably going out tonight, even if Mark is home for a couple days. You know how college guys are. It’s all parties.”

“That’s what the movies tell us.” Your friend concurred. “But maybe Mark is still a homebody.”

“People can change. Who knows.. Guess we’ll see—”

The sound of a car pulling up in the driveway just below your bedroom window drew your attention and you wandered towards the window, peering through the opening between both sheer panels. Your breath barely gusted, making the material sway against the end of your nose.

Your dad’s form, climbing out of the car, then he went around and opened the passenger door to stand with one hand extended, to help your mother out. Same as it ever was. They’re so sweet.. It made you smile.

After a backwards step, you wheeled towards the bed. “I gotta go.. I’ll check in with you later?” Best to offer because she’d ask anyway. You knew each other well enough. Life wasn’t terribly exciting still living at home, freshly graduated from high school, with the summer spreading out ahead of you and no job to fill the gaps.

“Sounds good.” Your friend faked a loud smooch. “..Love you.”

“Uh huh. Love you too. Don’t eat too much before dinner.”

“Thanks, mom.” She mumbled, then chuckled as you hung up.

------------------------------------------------

“What happened in the garage?”

The knife sliced smooth and crisp as you pushed the blade down through the onion. Although your back was to him, you weren’t distracted enough to resist asking your brother the most important question.

And a necessary one, especially with what you’d smelled earlier. And his still relaxed demeanor to top it off.

At one nearby portion of the kitchen counter Mark worked the salad around in a large bowl, shooting a glance at you.

“Huh?” The lettuce danced and tumbled lightly and he chuckled low. “..Are you talking to me?”

“No one else is here with us so…yeah.” You replied.

“Why do you ask?” There was no hesitation but his lack of a straight answer was still blatant. No need to take it as a sure sign of guilt or anything like nefarious ignorance.

You recentered the knife and cut through more onion pieces, eyes stinging as fumes rose from the freshly minced pieces under your nose.

“Because I didn’t think you would eat that much before dinner. Does what I smelled have anything to do with that mess in the kitchen?”

The tossing stopped now and Mark laid the tongs down, then turned to watch your back with palms braced against the kitchen counter edge. His brow angled with his famous cautiously curious glare. Somehow he managed to stare down his nose with his head tipped down, zeroing in on you like he was waiting for YOU to explain yourself.

“Do tell, Y/n. What did you smell?”

“Mark, come on.” You groused. “I’m not dumb. Mom and dad hopefully didn’t smell it. But.. Don’t expect me to believe you were smoking cigarettes in there.”

“The garage?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t smoke, so you’d be wrong anyway.”

“You were smoking something, dear brother. Better fess up.”

“Or what?” Mark grinned now, brows even over his darkening eyes as he added “You want some?”

Your guts went heavy as you looked back, bathed in pure shock, eyes popped. Sputtering. The knife fell to the cutting board, but you didn’t turn to face him. For a moment both of you looked towards the kitchen door and strained for the sounds beyond it–your dad’s favorite tv show and the quiet, blended murmur of your parents’ voices as they talked pre-dinner.

There was no voice calling either of your names, asking about what they’d heard. Right now it was a blessing. Finally your eyes met again as stares held, until you broke to speak first.

“So it was weed.”

“You know that smell? I thought we did a decent job of hiding it.”

“Not that decent. The Febreeze was a nice touch,but not enough.”

Your brother’s cheeks plumped. “I’ll give you that. Still learning some tricks.”

“Since when do you enjoy the devil’s lettuce?” You asked, watching his body language. Mark was still very much relaxed, arms crossed at his chest, ass braced against the counter edge. At least he’d changed to a sweatshirt–from the very college he was attending. It was a good look for him.

“Since when does my little sister care? What’s with the morality lesson?”

“Is that a pre-req for college?”

“No..” Mark rubbed his chin, then shrugged and walked closer to stand next to you. “..But it helps. Maybe you’ll find that out when it’s your turn as a college student.”

“Well…considering I just graduated recently enough, it’s not that far off. Junior college isn’t the same. I’m still living at home.” You had to admit: going to the local community college wasn’t as overwhelming as had been expected. In fact, you’d found it a little…boring, but that was a fair trade for not being overwhelmed by a huge campus and living outside the only place you’d called home thus far.

Mark briefly studied your work, tsked. You didn’t stop him when he took the knife and started dicing. He worked in quick flurries of motion, wrist rocking and rolling. He always made things look easy. Magical, but managing to entertain himself too. There was a vague haze in his stare, and he barely blinked through the wafting scent of onion while your eyes watered.

You turned away a little but kept Mark in view, talking against the back of your hand, lips brushing to protect you from the taste that would only compound the burning in your nostrils.

“My brother. Reefer madness.. Who knew? Certainly not mom and dad.”

Mark sighed, then tossed his head back. Laughing, he weaved. It was light and full of wonderment. You could tell he wasn’t as high as he’d been in the garage, but it was still at pleasant levels in his system, which only added to the intrigue.

“Oh sweet summer child..” He almost sang.

“Don’t start with that.” You grumbled, bumping him with a hip. Mark’s face turned to you.

“You didn’t answer me.” He droned.

Lids fluttered against more fumes, you wiped your lips over a few knuckles, then dropped that hand to your side.

“What was the question?”

“Do you want to try some of the stuff I brought home?”

He really was asking, after confirming he’d been smoking up in the garage earlier. As he loomed closer, you leaned away a little, reeling for a second. This easy, warm grin was on you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Navigating back from the shock and into reality, you finally responded. “..S..sure.”

Mark nodded and moved away, going back to the sink with knife in hand. While he rinsed the blade clean you picked up the cutting board with a decent pile of now freshly diced onion.

“You got it.” He racked the clean utensil into the dish strainer, then joined you at the other counter where the rest of the ingredients waited. You could feel his stare as you carefully scooped onion pieces into a small glass bowl.

“After dinner. We can have dessert in the garage. Mom and dad won’t care. I’m sure Namjoon won’t mind. It’ll be like old times.”

“Right..”

Weakness seized your legs, making both knees lock. It took every single bit of energy to keep from showing how Namjoon being here still had an effect. If it hadn’t been for his earlier toke, your brother might have had enough sense about him to notice.

As it was, Mark nodded then looped an arm around your shoulders with a warm squeeze. You buried your nose and lips against his broad shoulder, sucking in a mouthful of Tide and early summer air as the panic crawling through your scalp ebbed away.

You HAD to get a grip and remember: this was just your brother’s friend. Practically family. A face that had just been part of the background and a non-issue for so long. It wasn’t time to make him one now. Mark’s light pat on the back brought you back to reality.

“I missed being home. …Missed you, sis. Let’s go eat..”

--------------------------------------------------------

You focused on your bare knees, soles on the edge of the coffee table in front of you.

The garage was much cooler than the house. You hadn’t spent much time here when you were still in high school. Especially when your brother was still living at home. Now that he lived on campus, you decided this might be a good space after all. You hadn’t really paid much attention to all the time he’d spent here, but clearly a lot of work had gone into making it a respectable, comfortable spot. Rugs..posters and shelving, even. He’d really worked to transform the garage to a new glory.

“Where did you get this couch, Mark?”

You watched your brother strolling by, heading for the stereo against the far wall. The speakers and the entire system were impressive–tall box style speakers flanking a large system that had 2 cassette players, a 4 CD player set up and a record player on the top. Mark lifted the lid and peered at the platter. Squinting, he spoke.

“One of dad’s buddies from down the street. That yard sale from a couple years ago. Not a bad setup—”

“I’ll say so.” A voice cut in as the door from the house leading into the garage opened, then shut. You heard the footsteps but dared not look. It was enough with how well you knew the voice. You’d been staring at the face across the dining room table for quite a long time. As long as it took to get through your burger and salad.

Barely any of it you tasted because you’d been feeding on the view.

The footsteps moved around to the right, heading towards your brother. The gray sweatshirt was big and baggy, but the figure still managed to look delightfully wide next to your brother, and he was not a small guy by any measure.

“It’s not brand new but not too bad of a set up for a second hand system.” Mark nodded. “Namjoon you can always take this back to campus. We’re not getting any use out of it unless we come home and hangout.”

Namjoon smiled and you caught a glimpse of one dimple as his profile showed. You also caught the quick look as he glanced your way for a split second that lasted far too long and made your belly do an Olympic level triple flip.

Your toes curled as you hunkered into the fabric depths of the cushions. A weedy tang drifted up, along with tufts of fuzz. Try as you might, you couldn’t help following Namjoon’s tapering body lines until you stopped at his ass. Never had an ass looked so round in joggers.

He certainly LOOKED comfortable, with a mood to match. Namjoon passed a record over and turned towards the couch. He was careful, lowering next to you, then his knees fell wide. It was like he didn’t notice when the outside of his thigh touched yours.

But you sure noticed. How could you not with so much firm, warm muscle?

Your throat was so tight it was liked you were choking on air, but after a deep breath you recentered and reminded yourself. ‘It’s no big deal. It’s just Namjoon. He’s a friend of the family. Practically like a brother.’ He’d contributed a lot of time and joy to your family in a lot of ways.

He’d been a sidekick for your brother in a lot of family trips or gatherings. But this wasn’t the slender, lanky tag-along you remembered from the last year of high school. It was whatever they were putting in the water on campus.

Dorm living usually didn’t treat people that good, did it?

Namjoon must have been doing more than just packing away the food on his meal plan. Your brother hadn’t quite sung the praises of the on-campus cooking.

Familiar music started as Mark turned back to you and jogged around to the other side of the couch and ducked behind, then stood up and leaned over you to pass a small cigar box, which Namjoon reached over your head to take.

It was as if they fell into a well practiced routine–like two people so used to each other’s parts in a shared experience. Namjoon flipped open the lid with his thumbs after the box met the table. You barely leaned forward enough to see around him.

A couple zip lock baggies. A handful of colorful lighters. Some rolling papers.

Oh my god. It’s happening.

Mark glanced at you, then quickly looked again with a snort. “..Sis..you okay?”

“Yeah.” You chirped as a cool panic flushed your body. If Namjoon looked at you now, you’d faint. Luckily he didn’t. Instead he lifted one of the zip lock bags up and it looked heavy with the contents filling more than half the bag.

This was…crazy. You, your brother and his best friend, all really here in the garage. About to smoke weed. Your BROTHER. Someone who’d managed to ace his D.A.R.E class, as if that had ever been possible. Who’d never taken a sip of booze, even when he hit 21.

A pot smoker. Who knew what else he was now into that could further scandalize your parent’s opinion of their never-do-wrong son.

You were stuck staring again as Namjoon selected a sheet of rolling paper and laid it flat on the immaculate coffee table. Even with the scratches as dents, you could tell these two kept this place much cleaner than they had with the kitchen. …Which made sense if this was their ‘home’ away from campus. Still, you’d missed THIS change? That boggled you beyond the edges of belief.

Mark sat back into the cushions, groaning in relief as Namjoon’s fingers worked. You didn’t know much about rolling a joint, but Namjoon made it look quick and easy. It was as close to picture perfect as you’d ever seen in all those warning chapters about drugs.

Namjoon twisted the ends and dragged his tongue along the joint, then held it towards you with a dim smile.

Without knowing why, you shook your head, making Namjoon’s brows pinch in the middle. It turned the dark brown of his eyes to a luxurious almost-black.

“No? Scared?” He grinned, then selected a lighter.

“Of course she is, you goob. Y/n isn’t experienced in this.”

“Well..” Namjoon nodded. “..I know that, Mark. I was teasing. She was always teasing us, if I remember it right.”

“I–” You began, mind going into a spiral of flashbacks at Namjoon’s words. All you could suddenly recall was watching Namjoon’s bowed head as you walked through the kitchen. Or passed your brother’s open bedroom door, seeing them both sitting on his bed. Or side by side on the couch in the living room, arguing as they stuffed their faces with chips or popcorn.

All the garbage talk you and your brother traded and you never imagined Namjoon felt a single barb. He certainly hadn’t looked at you, as far as you could remember. Which was fine. You preferred to ignore them for the most part back then. A tentative peace was most important.

But now that left gaps in what you were trying to reconcile now: Namjoon, tall and broad. Thick shoulders and thicker thighs, flexing as he stretched his legs next to you, propping both feet up on the coffee table, careful not to knock the cigar box any closer towards either edge.

And the way the letters on his sweatshirt changed shape a little–stretching. Warping as they pulled across his front when he arched after passing your brother a lighter. While Mark lit the joint, Namjoon’s head lolled all the way back to reveal a long, thick neck with strong lines.

The nape of his neck and the sides running up to the back of both ears looked so bare. Namjoon had hsi hair short cropped and almost velvety from how close the cut was to his skin. You might collapse inside yourself from the sudden ache in your core, the way you wanted to reach out and stroke fingers up the back of his neck.

“What?!” You snapped as an elbow stabbed against your ribs from Mark’s side.

The faint orange glow of the joint loomed, the other end damp and a little darker from lips pressed there recently enough. Your brother’s eyes widened with his nod. Cheeks puffed, he hummed, keeping his toke deep in his lungs.

“Okay–” You took the joint, shaking fingers nearly dropping it. Namjoon sat up next to you, the side of his hip and leg grating against your bare skin. Changing to shorts had SEEMED like a good idea.

“God.. What if I do it wrong–” You mumbled, voice shaking. Fingers too, causing the joint to dance as heat curled from the other end. Namjoon’s mild chuckle sent vibrations through you as he leaned closer.

“Can’t really fuck it up, Y/n. Unless you do like I did the first time and take more than you can handle.”

“Maybe you should show me then.” You leapt at the chance. It was an honest request and a self preservation move: asking Namjoon to take a hit before you. You had heard some banter about smoke sessions and passing a joint around–something about puff and pass–but your brother and Namjoon didn’t seem too concerned about those rules right now.

Namjoon’s fingers flexed and he collected the joint easily, then brought it to his lips and stared into your eyes. The draw he took wasn’t a small one but it wasn’t the longest either. It was just enough for him, you sensed. On your other side, a slate cloud of smoke exploded from your brother’s lips.

He grunted and wiped his lips, then leaned forward and grabbed the water bottle he’d brought along. A few long drinks, then he passed the bottle to Namjoon, who exhaled his own hit over the course of half a minute, watching the trails slide from between his lips, eyes following as the curls unfurled towards the garage ceiling.

You just watched him, seeing the pulse of his jugular dancing harder. Eventually Namjoon blinked slowly and side eyed you. After a sip from the bottle, he smiled, lips shiny, bottle looking pretty damned small circled by his long fingers.

The pain was back, stabbing through your sex. Your knees touched as you sat up more.

“You two do this a lot.” You observed. Namjoon got the hint when you didn’t take the offered joint but didn’t push the issue and leaned up enough to set it back in the ashtray sitting in front of you.

“What can I say.. It’s relaxing.” Mark sighed.

“And how.” Namjoon grinned. “You’d be surprised at what you can accomplish with a good high.”

Is that so? Tell me about it... You watched Namjoon’s hand slide down his thigh, stopping over his knee to cup the shape. What great feats can you do with all those muscles, every one finely tuned.

“How long have you both been doing this in the garage?” You voiced curiosity a few minutes later, with the music and pleasant energy increased several fold between the two warm bodies lounging on either side.

You’d asked them both but the only answer you REALLY wanted was Namjoon’s. Your brother would deliver a half truth, more than likely, which was fine. You had nothing to gain by ratting him out to your parents, even if it was par for the course in a sibling relationship.

They could see no wrong in their golden boy and only son. And he wasn’t giving you grief–he hadn’t ever really, beyond the occasional griping as older brothers were inclined to do.

“Mom and Dad are going to be out of the house. That’s nice.” Mark said, to no one and everyone in his vicinity. You blinked and glanced over.

“Are you suggesting a house party?” If he was, you were prepared to scold him, for once. THAT wasn’t his style and you weren't prepared to believe he OR Namjoon had learned that habit on a college campus.

“I’m suggesting we have the whole house to ourselves. We can make a big dinner.. You know..whatever.”

“Whatever.” You echoed, standing. Namjoon’s attention stayed with you, but Mark’s eyes were far away, staring at the poster across the way–a pinup he’d snagged from your uncle’s Playboy collection. Of course he didn’t have the balls to dare hang it in his room here, but why hadn’t he taken the thing to college?

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asked, hand riding up his thigh and coming off in a reach out for you. The rush plowing up through your insides and headed for your brain startled you into stepping away too quickly. Mark didn’t move when you collided with his knees.

“I’m tired.” You lied, never feeling more wide-fucking-awake. Or more hot and tight in a very deep, very dark place.

Namjoon’s head rested back and his hand fell right onto where you’d sat. Palm down, all 5 fingers flexed, pressing deep into the material. Like he was…feeling. Massaging. You had to look away as his tongue rode towards the corner of his mouth and his eyes glided along your body shape.

“Tired? Sis…” Your eyes rolled more than his own did after he spoke. He hardly reacted as you stepped over him. You’d never been particularly graceful, but right now you had enough willpower not to crumple on your way to the door leading back into the house.

“..Come onnnnn..” It’d been a good while since your brother employed the old ‘sis’ moniker.

You stopped in the open doorway, enjoying the cool house air over your skin. To your surprise there was a thin line of sweat running between both breasts. And a sizable one right down the small of your back. You hadn’t been sitting here long enough and the garage wasn’t that hot.

“Thanks for showing me..” You motioned towards the coffee table and the joint Namjoon had leaned over and picked up again. He brought it to his lips and you couldn’t look away, holding eye contact as he drew again. This time the plumes curled from his nostrils and barely parted lips when he grinned.

“Fine.” Mark yawned, eyes closing. He grabbed a throw pillow and held it to his chest. Namjoon turned himself along the couch and sprawled out more, nodding back at you. His smile shrank. The hem of his sweatshirt rode impossibly above his belly button.

You saw bare skin and the barely visible down trail from below his navel, right to the drawn waist of those joggers. And you pulsed so hard your guts seized. Wrenching attention away, you mumbled something–some noise of ‘Goodbye’. Or it was a whimper of pain and desire. You couldn’t be sure.

You just heard Namjoon’s purring chuckle, cut off by the door as it shut at your back.

---------------------------------------------------------

“You didn’t smoke? What’s wrong with you? He was sitting next to you.” Your friend sounded disappointed but she was masking it under an aghast tone. Confusion and shock were her strong suits and you shifted the receiver to your other ear, standing in front of your bedroom mirror.

“You don’t understand..” You began. This was your best friend—all the way through elementary school. All the way up to high school. At your lowest low and highest highs. Apparently in her mind this evening was meant to be the kind of high you should have been part of and you shrugged hearing another long groan on her end.

“You said he’s cute.”

“Kinda always has been.” You concurred, but amended her assessment a little too. “It’s..worse than that.”

“Worse? What do you mean?”

“He got…buff. I think he works out. His neck..his shoulders..his…” You hand upturned, cupping the air, squeezing as you bit your lip and caught your own eyes in the mirror. Combing the fingers on that hand through your hair, you huffed.

“Hot college boy evolution… Well that’s even more reason. Your parents are out of town… You and your brother have the whole house to yourselves. What are the chances, Y/n?”

“We don’t do house parties—” You started. Pointless to say, if your friend already knew enough about you. What she didn’t know was Namjoon.

The Namjoon from the past, whose appeal you slept on in high school, was dead and gone in a lot of ways. If she saw Namjoon downstairs, smiling and laughing at this late hour, splitting the last of the ice cream with your brother in front of the big screen tv in the living room, she’d understand.

She just had to…SEE. But you weren’t in the mood to add to your troubles. Instead you tugged your sleep shirt down and turned away from your mirror, looking your body over, suddenly more aware of every inch. Every nerve was standing at attention—Namjoon’s attention.

“Fine. No house parties. But you NEED to go smoke. Even if it’s just a chance to hang out with him again. Your brother doesn’t care. Didn’t you say Namjoon rolled a good joint?”

“From what I saw, yeah.” You murmured.

“So…get your ass downstairs. It’s not that late. And do me a favor—call me tomorrow and let me know what happened. Even if it’s later in the day, you know…just in case.”

Oh you knew exactly what your friend was hinting and you gasped because of the clench that followed. You fussed with the contents on top of your dresser, then slammed one of the top drawers closed, rattling everything for a moment.

“Be quiet. Some help YOU are.”

“You love me.” Your friend giggled. You knew her long enough and knew that giggle was as good as a double down. Your skin was getting too warm again. Righting and straightening some nail polish bottles close to the dresser top edge, you continued.

“You’re lucky then. I love you. Goodnight.”

“Remember what I said—” She began, half singing.

“GOOD. NIGHT.” You cut her off and hung up. Receiver in the cradle, you turned away from the mirror and went to the bedroom door. For a moment you couldn’t bring yourself to turn the knob and break the ‘safety’ of this space.

But you HAD to. If not for you, then your best friend who was counting on something to dine on tomorrow. You never liked to let her down by wimping out. She’d encouraged you so many times and you knew deep down you needed this–whatever ‘this’ might be.

Ear to the door, you heard the muffled laughter, but when you opened the door it was silent. Head peeking into the hall, you noticed the lights off. Each room was dark, including your brother’s at the farthest end of the hall. There was no familiar golden light coming out from the gap between wood and carpet.

You swallow a lump of nerves and vague disappointment. If you couldn’t ask for a ‘do-over’ for this whole getting high thing, you’d do it yourself with the knowledge of where they kept their stash in the garage. And at this hour, you didn’t have to worry about being seen or judged for your very newbie rolling skills. What was important was that you tried.

A for effort.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Slipping through the dark kitchen, you headed for the door leading to the garage. When you opened the door, you didn’t expect to be blinded by lights. But you were. Thankfully not a lot–just a lamp in the corner and another on a small table by the stereo.

Music was playing again but this wasn’t the same as before. On the couch, a form was hunched over the top of the coffee table.

You didn’t need to find the cigar box again–because it was already there and open, ziplock baggie too. Laid out with seal broken and contents neatly laid onto a fresh rolling paper.

The figure looked up, then smiled.

“Hello again.” Namjoon didn’t move from his spot on the couch and his fingers worked without needing supervision. That good and that sure, he was. There was an artful touch and a surgeon’s skill in the way he added a miniscule pinch to the line of weed on the paper.

You slipped into the room then backed into the door, feeling it click under your weight.

The garage was much warmer than before–more pleasantly humid. Enough you noticed Namjoon was sans sweatshirt in favor of a basic white t-shirt. This material was just as stressed across his chest. You noticed a lot more thigh–he’d traded joggers for snug cotton boxers that hit mid thigh.

Both knees were cocked wide enough and he finally looked down and picked up the joint, bringing it to his lips. Staring at you again, Namjoon paced your slow walk towards the couch.

Of course you went there. You couldn’t resist the invisible tendrils of energy wrapped around you, tugging. Almost..dragging you, right to where you’d wanted to be since stepping out of that room hours ago.

Namjoon’s tongue stroked over the joint, pasting down the paper to keep it in place.

“Can’t sleep too?” His smile radiated a warmth and you felt it in your chest. No guess where it’d go from there.

“Something like that.” You lowered down, taking a seat on his right side. He’d chosen the center of the couch for his half, this time around.

“Mark coming too?” Namjoon looked at the door you’d come through, then his brow arched.

“Why would he?” You answered. Eventually Namjoon connected the dots and chortled. Could it be that he was rattled? Or a little shy?

Eventually his head bobbled with another laugh. “Alright, babe..I get it..”

Babe… When he said that, it brought another squeeze that had you shifting, leaning unevenly onto one ass cheek. The couch sank under your listing weight. Namjoon casually looked over but that didn’t hide the honeyed glaze in his eyes.

“Just you and me.” After you nodded, he went on, his shoulders squaring. “...I kind of hoped you’d come back. Didn’t want you to miss out.” He picked up a lighter and brought it to the end of the joint, gracefully pinched between two fingers, just shy of his lips.

“..And I kind of figured as much.” You said.

This man had you mesmerized when his lips barely parted to tuck the joint end between. His other thumb flicked the lighter until a flame ignited and touched the twisted paper point. Orange bloomed then flared as Namjoon dragged.

Waving the exhaled smoke away enough, he scooted closer. This time when he brought the joint to your lips, his voice sloped down to a whisper as intimate as if he’d said it right against your ear. In just a few words, goosebumps littered your thighs.

“You really want it this time?”

You nodded, already nicely woozy. You didn’t know how being high felt, but this had to be in the wheelhouse. Pleasant enough and it made you giddy. If Namjoon and your brother’s demeanor from earlier were any indication, you weren’t in for a panic fueled trip. In spite of what middle school drug resistance education had led you to believe.

“I’ll talk you through it.” Namjoon brought the lighter to the end of the joint and flicked it. When the end glowed again, he nodded. “Breathe–not too hard. Very careful inhale. Not too much.”

Although you did what he said, it didn’t prepare you for the rush of heat that rolled down your throat, then into your lungs. After a few seconds your lungs seized in revolt and you hunched over, head down and away from Namjoon. Smoke poured from your lips, rushing over the coffee table and sending a few straggling bits of weed tumbling over the edge.

Green specks rained onto the worn carpet as you coughed. And coughed.

And coughed, barely able to pull a fresh bit of air through your lips before hacking again, close to gagging. Finally it passed enough you could sit up.

And you noticed the circular pressure between your shoulders: Namjoon’s palm, rubbing soothingly.

The amusement in his eyes was expected. You WERE new at this, but Namjoon wasn’t ragging you. No dissing either. Maybe watching you, he was reminiscing about HIS first smoke session. And if so, he was empathetic. THAT didn’t douse the raging attraction that was developing for this guy who was as good as a brother for all the time he spent here.

But as attractive as the hottest college guy you’d ever laid eyes on, as the seconds ticked by and a rush flooded your brain.

Trying to maintain, you pushed straggling hairs away from your face to see the grin he flashed even more clearly. It wasn’t quite pride, but Namjoon was beaming. Was it wrong to imagine he was pleased you went through with it this time?

Why stop there? You hadn’t died, and his reaction whipped up a nice feeling in your chest. You motioned to your lips.

“Can I…try one more?”

His dark brows pinched up. “You sure?” He wore concern well. You couldn’t hate the doting. It wasn’t from pity or mockery, but it wasn’t brotherly either.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips,tasting a faint skunkiness. The smell clung to the insides of your nostrils. You grabbed the fresh water bottle sweating and already opened from the table nearby, ready when Namjoon brought the joint close again.

Your next hit, although small, still burned like before. You managed to hold it longer before exhaling. After a short cough you slumped back against the couch, lips latched to the water bottle and sucking down a few mouthfuls of water. The BEST water, bar none.

Namjoon eyed you as he pulled a smaller toke, then laid the joint into the ashtray. Sprawled back, his upper body twisted your way. His thighs still looked so muscled, falling wide enough that your eyes wandered right to seam over running along the crotch of his dark boxers. This was black magic fuckery or an illusion, how the fly bowed.

He was…packing. I KNOW he’s big. God help me. He’s…thick. Thinking about it was sending heat pulsing through your pussy, exposing how hollow you felt. This moment was the pinnacle of rue at the fact you were a virgin.

A few minutes passed as you and Namjoon laid there next to each other. His eyes were barely open and his jaw slowly flexed. Your eyes focused on his face as you rolled onto your side towards him. The normal nerves that should have come just…didn’t.

You didn’t feel anxiety or hesitation. Trying to chase your thoughts had become harder, but it was a lot more enjoyable and appealing to just drink in Namjoon’s lightly sparkling profile—the cheekbones and the angles of his brows rising away from his fluttering lids. And his serene expression.

You’d probably been staring for quite some time when his body shifted and rolled. His hips lifted and you moaned. No mistaking–it came from your lips. But you just didn’t care right now. Namjoon’s gaze shifted over and he smirked.

“Feeling okay over there?”

“Yeah.”

“That was an interesting sound, Y/n.” He wasn’t calling you out or teasing. His tone was very diplomatic. What he said had you giggling, requiring a hard pinch to your thigh to keep from dissolving into laughter. If you started now, you’d never stop. Probably thanks to the hit settling in finally.

“Was it? Thanks.” Every blink felt sluggish. Namjoon’s attention remained as you continued. “Namjoon, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You’ve been a college student for a couple years?”

He nodded. “2 years, going on 3, basically.”

“Do you like it so far?”

“Sure.” His jaw worked out a yawn, both eyes shifting under lowered lids and the even lines of dark brows.

“What’s it like? Busy? Lots of homework?” Sobriety wouldn’t have let you ask these kinds of questions, but that was a non-issue at the moment thanks to the joint smoldering in the ashtray–courtesy of Namjoon’s rolling skills.

“Homework–in college? It’s not like that. But..it can be busier. Depends on what you do.”

“What DO you do up there?” You tried to imagine what your brother did up there, with a different friend group. People who had learned to tolerate the little quirks to his personality that you’d grown up with and become accustomed to. He wasn’t unpleasant but you couldn’t imagine his dynamic personality fitting in anywhere else.

As for Namjoon, you wanted to know more about NOW. How he was before college seemed pleasantly vague. He was nice and sweet, enough to make your parents sad when he announced his intention to leave with your brother for the fall term. You parents had been just as misty eyed, acting like they’d lost 2 sons.

“Do? Whatever I want I guess. There’s campus rules. Kinda like here. Communal spaces have to be kept clean. You find out who sucks at that.”

“Like the mess you guys made earlier–”

“--That we cleaned up.” Namjoon cut in, a wide grin exposing dimples on his slender face. Whatever baby fat he’d gone up to the university with he’d left it, trading lankiness for an astounding density.

“Thank you.” You eyed his lap again.

Not even Namjoon’s chuckle broke your focus on the bulge there when it shifted just a little. The compulsion to touch manifested in a tingling through every fingertip.

God forbid you cave and feel Namjoon up to find out if his density matched your perception.

“...Guess you have lots of experiences on campus?” Your attention followed the length of his thighs, then the muscles over his knees. You weren’t jealous of these nameless others. …Not very much anyway. Namjoon’s smile was dreamy.

“Depends—academically, yes. More than I really wanted sometimes.”

“And socially?” You couldn’t help asking. The gnawing ache south of your navel was unholy. Who could blame you, the way Namjoon’s sun kissed skin and the more muscular parts flexed slowly.

It could be the weed hitting harder, but you could swear he was posing a little. No complaints if he was. Namjoon’s physique was a meal and more. Definitely a far cry from the guy who’d shown up at your graduation barbeque.

“You mean parties?”

“Sure. There’s a lot of people there..” Girls. There’s a lot of girls on that campus. You’d seen enough college humor movies to know what happened at a campus party. Or an OFF campus one.

“Are you asking about my social life?”

“Is that okay? Isn’t college about exploration? Like..not just learning from a book.” You’d read enough to safely assume college was a time for discovery. Not just inside a classroom, staring at a professor at a podium or between the covers of a textbook.

Grinning, Namjoon sat up and pulled himself a bit closer until his skin grazed your own. Body heat rapidly transferred. Wherever there was contact, you got just as warm.

No complaining when he leaned in and you got a direct view down the drooped neck of his t-shirt. More than enough fuel for the sinner in you. A side that you explored enough lately, through daydreams and fantasies. Good old self love, thanks to an emptier house and a lot more privacy.

You knew where your mind liked to go. Sometimes it was places or moments. Sometimes it was people–no one you knew. Until you saw Namjoon again. Before he was a face in the background of your home life, but never anything more than that buffer between you and your brother.

The way he’d changed just enough made it feel brand new. As if this evolved form was someone else. No doubt, back on campus those girls had to be as hyper focused as you were right now. And they didn’t have the luxury of having known him previously like you.

Or that he seemed to have a veiled fondness for you. It showed boldly in his eyes as they studied your face. You noticed, coming back from thought to find his lids low and his blown pupils riveted to you.

“Namjoon..” You breathed, voice barely above the music you also realized was still going. Just enough to fill any silence when neither of you were talking.

“Yeah?” The couch creaked and he increased in size, inching closer. Solid contact from hip to ankle. His arm slid across the back of the couch, behind your head.

“You never answered my question. The..social thing.” You had trouble grasping the exact question you’d asked a moment ago. But you weren’t pressed. Especially not when Namjoon hummed, head canted as he rested his profile against his forearm on the couch back.

“I do manage to have a good time.” He smiled. “...Let’s just say that.”

“Yeah?” Surely he had no idea of the gap he left for imagining all manner of wild stuff he could do at college with endless attractive, young people of similar interests and needs. Or maybe Namjoon knew damn well.

“Mmhmm.” The timbre of his hum made you tingle.

“Are you telling me my best friend’s little sis is suddenly curious about college life? Are you asking me to snitch on your brother? You think he’s a wild child on campus? He saw his fair share of parties at the end of high school. We both did.”

Oh not about campus life. Just one aspect and one person.

“Yeah?” You were a little scandalized, but the grin you let show was warm. Content. Even if you didn’t remember whatever Namjoon would tell you about your brother, you didn’t exactly care. What you DID care about was maintaining this arousal thickening the heat between your legs.

“I’m not little anymore.” You pouted. “I graduated high school.” Namjoon didn’t flinch in reaction or under his skin when the point of your elbow jabbed as you teased. “I’m basically an adult.”

“You have grown a lot. I like it, Y/n.”

You were unsure if that moan actually came out of your mouth or it was a weird fantasy that you thought you did. Either way, Namjoon was even closer now, basically over top of you. And he filled up your nostrils: soapy hints and a vague sweat. Some kind of..body spray or his deodorant. Whatever it was, you inhaled, unable to get enough.

“Yeah. I guess I have.” You had needs. Hormones, running rampant. Namjoon seemed to suss that out, his gaze lingering on your chest. “You’re not too bad either.” A giggle bubbled up.

“Oh?” He puffed a little. “Thanks. I like that you notice me. I always noticed you. Couldn’t help it.” When fingers stroked your jaw, you crooned into his palm, your profile sinking against the silky heat.

No objection came when you groped up his forearm and found that wrist, then held on tight. Not a single fingertip touched. Namjoon was just so wide.

“Well here I am.” You hinted.

“I see that. You. Me…alone in this garage.” Namjoon’s reply was quiet, but the words were still clear. …Not that either of you were in danger of anyone still being awake this hour to stumble into your moment. He probably could have shouted and been fine, knowing how heavy your brother slept. Such near certainty emboldened you.

“I kinda like that.”

“Me too.” Namjoon’s lips passed across yours, making you arched as you tried to chase the contact. He pulled back enough to grin again, then continued. “..What do you wanna do, Y/n?”

You tugged at his wrist, prying his hand away from your face and bringing it down to your chest. His palm engulfed your breast and sent your eyes rolling. You moaned and he echoed you. Pressure–Namjoon squeezed a little. Kneaded faintly. His grip was light but still felt so powerful, even if he was holding back.

“What, Y/n? Ask. I’ll do it.”

Your thighs fell wide and Namjoon’s head turned towards the expanding space. “Please..” It was all you could do to lay there, ass swirling into the couch cushion. It wasn’t the highest quality piece of furniture, but right now it was perfect.

Let the good lord above beam the need for his mouth on you right into that skull–through bone and into the gray matter. Send the signals to all the right places. Fire off energy to tell his muscles and urges to cooperate in unison and bring him right down where your body trembled and screwed the tightest: your throbbing pussy.

“You..sure?” Namjoon breathlessly asked, just below your earlobe.

You tugged again with a grunt that devolved into a whimper. There was a curve to his lips as they touched the corner of your mouth. Even turning your head to chase, you only saw the tips of his hair dipping lower as he slithered down your body. Namjoon’s knees met the concrete floor. If it was cold or painful, Namjoon didn’t seem to mind. Given your current state, you wouldn’t have either.

Namjoon centered between your knees, his fingers briefly cinching your natural waist, then his sultry glare came back up. You laid there, rapt–at the mercy of the THC flooding your system and the hormones following close behind. Barely a touch and you were floating.

Sound was that much louder–the pounding in your chest. Rushing in your ears. The crackle of a swallow as your throat worked. Every sensation, down to the scratchy fibers of the couch upholstery on your bare skin felt brand new.

Namjoon hiked one side of your sleep shirt high to expose that hip and planted a sucking kiss, then did the same to the other. When he bunched enough at the middle of your torso he shot you a look paired with a devastating grin.

“Nice sleepwear.”

“It was a gift.” You whined. Not the height of fashion, but this thing was your go-to for a lazy night in.

When he spotted the chaste cotton of your basic panties, his smile melted away. The way Namjoon gazed at your clothed sex had you nearly melting into the couch again. When your leg bent Namjoon’s fingers glided up that bare calf to cradle just behind the knee.

You could burn up into a million beautiful sparkles of pleasure, the way pressure roiled in your chest, then wormed downwards. Whatever was in this weed, it was stellar. If every single smoke session could feel like this, you’d make it a weekly habit.

But that would require Namjoon being there. Which sat extra nicely in your mind, as he did in your view.

His head dipped and he pecked your belly, curling a few fingers under the panty line along the apex of your hip and thigh. You made a small squeak and his smile returned. Heat blasted over your mouth, from his nostrils in a long exhale.

“You didn’t really say what you wanted, to be pedantic about it.” Namjoon murmured, studying the shape of your pussy through the panty panel. His fingers twitched against naked skin under the seam.

“I don’t know..” You gasped. But you DID know. A healthy heart and mind were coordinating to flood you with a singular desire: sex–a new territory. Right now there was no way to make your brain focus and send the right words to your lips.

Namjoon was quiet. After thinking for a moment he spoke. “Are you a virgin?”

“Is it lame if I say yes?”

Not that it ever really troubled you much–your time would come. Any experiences were few and underwhelming–awkward gropes and light petting in cars or the occasional movie theater with a few boys you’d agreed to go out with. None of these trial runs went more than a week, which wasn’t much time to really dive in.

Namjoon was different. His very presence made you so aware of what you didn’t know. So conscious of your own naivete. Whatever experiences were under your belt, they could NEVER compete with anything he’d have done or experienced at college. That was the mythical holy grail of sexual awakening destinations.

“No. I think it’s sexy.” He replied evenly.

“Yeah?” You pulsed with heat. Groping around you found the corner of an old throw pillow nearby and gripped, twisting one pointed end in your fist.

“Mmmhmm.” Namjoon leaned towards your pussy. The end of his nose grazed. The panty seam snapped against your skin, then he gripped over that hip. He was almost growling.

“Is it wrong that I wanna change that?”

“No.” You whispered. Your throat and pussy took turns this time, squeezing emptiness in desperation.

His softest smile returned and Namjoon snuck a look into your eyes. “Maybe not taking it that far, yet. I don’t want to hurt you. …But there’s other things we could do.” He might have been sweet looking, but there was a heat deep in his eyes.

“Why would you hurt me?”It had to be a trap—the best kind: sexy and addicting. Beckoning towards an abyss of arousal you’d never even knew existed and had no hope of escaping once it swallowed you whole.

This was the cusp of a moment. A crossroads. Some kind of choice you suddenly had to make. Reality was proving you weren’t that tag-along little sister, and Namjoon was more than just a quiet, polite best friend among the scenery in your family life.

A dimple appeared as one side of Namjoon’s mouth hitched. “I’m a big guy.” He only took a quick glance down then leaned closer. The pressure of his body was enough to bully your thighs wider. “Big..”

“Well..what are those other things we could do then..” At least you were being brave, soldiering on through the horny fog permeating your senses. This went beyond a good high.

“Mmmn…” Namjoon’s hands slid up to the waist of your panties and he drummed a few fingers there.

“..Ever been licked before?”

“Huh?” The word squeaked out, so sharp and high. Your toes curled.

“Licked.” He repeated. “Like here..” His lips followed the small hill of your mound, down. The material stretched across it was no match for the hellfire heat rolling from his mouth.

“You mean—”

“Yeah. You get the idea.”

“You know how to do that?” Maybe you sounded dumb but the implication of his experience and skill screwed painful heat right into your center.

Namjoon nodded with a chuckle. “I’m not too bad at it.”

You tried to sit up but the word shifted sharply, forcing you back against the couch. As your senses settled Namjoon’s fingernails scraped the baby hairs along your belly.

The waistline crept down with Namjoon’s curling fingers. More skin exposed to the cool garage air. It seemed like forever until he leaned back and took the panties to your knees. Pausing there, the material was stretched perilously close to tearing.

“All the way off okay?”

You lifted a foot up and gave him better room to pull that leg out. You slid fingers through his hair and he stopped fussing with the other side. The panties spiraled down your calf and stopped to hang at a jaunty angle around that ankle.

“Think that’s a yes..” You replied. A rush of energy climbed your body, brows creasing in worry. “..W..what happens now?”

You weren’t totally ignorant about oral sex. Movies showed plenty, but as a detached concept. Not nearly enough to prepare you for the tactile experience.

Namjoon was already lower, between your thighs. Just the bridge of his nose up to the hairline along his forehead was visible. He sighed into the wet ache gathering against your folds. Fingers wound tighter, clutching thick sections of his hair.

He moaned, then his mouth moved against you without fanfare. And without warning. The pleasure was instant and so intense. Head cocked against the couch, you slid down as Namjoon’s grip tightened on your hips and tugged you onto his working lips.

There was suction. More moaning. A long, broad lick up, then down to open you up. He was even louder just after the sensation of something trickling out of you.

The tip of his tongue stabbed against that shrinking muscle and your thighs shook.

“Oh my…g..god..Joon..” Your brain was tumbling. You groped for a throw pillow, mashing it to your face in time to muffled a howl.

Another slow lick parted your folds. Reaching your clit, his lips wrapped tight. Namjoon could suck–and it was PERFECT. Not too hard but not too lightly, soundless. Whines rolled from you, back to back.

You hardly heard anything as bliss washed over you in an easy and sudden orgasm. His suction faded and you felt his head moving against your grip. The suction started again as your walls settled into the spastic flutter of aftershocked. You threw a calf over his shoulder.

Namjoon’s bicep and forearm cradled it closer and he pushed his face harder into your creamy heat. He continued on, through the peak of your high.

“...You taste so good..” Barely out of the ether, you just caught his voice.

Fingers pulled at your skin and your clit sang in golden pleasure as he sucked more between his lips. He kissed. The tip of his tongue circled your clit furiously. “..Love you against my face.. Wanna do this ALL night.” He groaned from between your thighs.

Your other knee jerked, drawn closer to your body as Namjoon’s palm pushed at your shin and his mouth worked against you harder. THIS must have been what those girls in those movie scenes were feeling. Their expressions just matched this explosive pleasure building between your hips.

Another wave of pleasure rolled up your body. Your chest went up and your belly sunk down, pulling inwards like the energy was, drawing it all to your core. You twisted. Came again, longer. When Namjoon’s glossy lips popped away from your skin you tugged at his hair with a shudder.

Your pulling did nothing–Namjoon’s mouth had its own ideas. A slender point drew through the wet heat between your legs, then dipped inside. Your hips rose towards Namjoon’s humming smile. Every wall sunk tighter around his finger.

“That’s good, Y/n… Just one finger for now. Does it hurt?”

Hurting was the furthest from how it felt. You needed more. Hips lifting, you angled to sink further down onto the long digit. Although it was just one finger, you squeezed so hard it left you breathless.

“No..” You managed. It’s so good. Impossibly good. This was one of those things you knew you’d be in real danger of becoming addicted to if this went on for too long. Your own fingers hadn’t seemed nearly this adept–even if you’d only casually explored in snatches of privacy.

Namjoon carefully screwed the finger to the last knuckle, then pulled it back out. It sank in again and slid out. Eventually the tempo settled into a cycling pace. So did you lower body, countering the thrusting finger.

“When I first started having sex.. I found out this was one of my favorite things. Something about the response a tongue and finger gets.. Fuck…” Namjoon mouthed over your mound, then slithered down to your clit to suck and slurp again. He chased the nub, letting his tongue batter with purpose. He only paused when your thighs shook violently through another crushing orgasm.

And another. Longer than before and perfectly riding a downslope from your previous high. Right back up you went, cumming so massive. Everything sucked inwards. Your moan choked off to silence.

You didn’t have a single clue how long you’d been there, dazed and fluttering between your legs when Namjoon’s droning voice filtered through. So close he was almost nose to nose. Just in time for those lips to press against yours–tasting a little salty but sweet too. He kissed you with delicate pressure, taking it ultra slow. Your tongue worked through his lips and Namjoon didn’t seem to object, adjusting his intensity with your daring gesture.

For a while your lips worked against each other until the wet kissing yielded to the music. You hadn’t quite kept track but it was a nice revelation that there was some kind of filler sound when your mouths uncoupled.

You saw Namjoon happy. Boisterous. Frustrated and even sad. But you’d never experienced seeing him so dreamy and satisfied like in this moment. Nose and lips gleaming, with both cheeks a rosy hue. The routine of courtesy had you reaching out to wipe the slick off his skin but Namjoon was quick. Seemed like a blink and he seized your wrist then placed your hand on his chest. The couch shifted a little more as your combined weight slid closer to one end.

“What the…fuck..” Every inch of your body was still abuzz. Bliss overloaded every inch skin and underneath. If this was any indicator of his skills, you couldn’t imagine the shape you’d be in with Namjoon going further.

“--You have such a delicious pussy, Y/n. Jesus..”

The pillow was still warm from your earlier screams when you pulled it against your face to hide, but it would have to do as a shield against the sudden rush of shame. Namjoon grabbed the pillow and tossed it back over the couch, eyes on you even with the raucous thunk and clatter that came a moment later.

“Don’t do that..” No malice. His tone was even and solemn. The gentlest of warnings. Namjoon wasn’t a yeller–that you’d ever experienced. Unfortunately you’d found that trait hadn’t rubbed off on your brother.

“It was SO good. I want more.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Namjoon’s smile contracted and he moved both thighs off his shoulders, guiding your legs onto the remaining couch space. It was a near certainty Mark hadn’t expected the furniture to see this kind of use when he brought it home years ago, pride beaming right out of his smile.

Namjoon took a careful seat near your stretched legs and studied you with shining eyes. You watched his hand creep across the cushion and rest on your thigh, palm still wide and warm.

“...We probably shouldn’t say anything about this..” You hinted. He smoothed up and down your thigh with a light touch, fingers feathering and a brow cocked.

“Why not? This isn’t the first smoke session this couch has seen. Probably won’t be the last, if we keep coming home to visit like we have been.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You grinned.

“Then what?”

You sighed. “Joon…”

He broke into a rakish smile. “Are you talking about the other thing that happened?” So casually said. As if you’d both sat here and read the paper or played video games. Not done what two healthy people at the mercy of their hormones would naturally do.

“Yes. That.” Your brows drew down. Namjoon’s palm was back at your knee, draped over the top. He cupped and a few fingertips dug in with a hint of pressure.

“You think your parents would be mad?”

“Not just my parents.” Your parents had aspirations for you too, like they did for your brother. What had happened wasn’t on that list, for sure.

“Your brother?” Namjoon blinked, scoffing. “I’m not worried about that.”

“He’s a brother, it’s what they do.”

“He’s also my best friend and I know him. I know things about him you don’t know. He’s changed enough, Y/n. Trust me. He ditched some of those unrealistic assumptions about a lot of people–including you.”

“You’ve talked about me to him?”

Namjoon didn’t reply, instead he snickered and slowly stood. You watched, mouth trembling. You wanted to ask him not to go. You wanted to voice the confusion suddenly coming up. More than all of that: you wanted to hear what he thought about you. Was it your response that made him change course? No sign of anger or offense showed anywhere on his face.

“A little.” His hedging was clear. Based on the flash of dimples in his broadening smile, he’d known quite well what you meant. You didn’t push it. Namjoon threw a glance at the door leading into the house, then came back to you.

“Want some help upstairs?”

“You’re..going to bed?” You swallowed, feeling a little shaky all of the sudden. Namjoon nodded with a hand out.

“We shouldn’t stay here all night. It’d be a hard situation to explain to your brother in the morning. ..Probably wouldn’t go over well.”

You took his hand and Namjoon’s strength was measured but potent in a single tug that brought you to your feet. He quietly watched as you leaned down to collect the panties pooled around one foot and then looked away politely as you wiggled them up to your hips again. When you had the sleep shirt sorted he turned away.

“Come on..” His voice was airy and alert. Seemed like he was full of energy and that boggled you. But then again, he wasn’t the one who’d just gone through several orgasms so he had energy to spare.

Following along behind his striding form, he stopped at the door and opened it, but stayed in the doorway to look back again.

“Hope you sleep well. The high should help—always does for me.”

“Yes…the high.” You smirked. Not even the barest hint of implications about the lingering orgasm effects still threading through your limbs. That wouldn’t have ANYTHING to do it. Not at all.

“Be quiet, hmm? Your brother’s a light sleeper.” Namjoon whispered.

He wasn’t wrong. Mark woke up from the slightest sound often enough. He’d bitch long and loud about a mouse fart at 2AM. Lord knew what two pairs of footsteps sneaking down the hall, past his room, would do.

“Thanks for the warning.” You grinned. “You sure know a lot about my family and this house. You’d think you live here or something.”

“I might as well.” Namjoon hissed as he slipped into the dark enveloping the space beyond the door. You tiptoed quickly, after the door clicked shut at your back. The linoleum of the kitchen floor was especially cold and your skin lit up with goosebumps but you said nothing, hugging your middle and fixing intently on Namjoon’s bulky shape retreating ahead of you.

At the top of the stairs Namjoon stepped back and turned towards you. Voice and lids low, he offered a vaguely flirty smirk and leaned in to speak, voice still hushed.

“See you at breakfast in the morning.”

“Yeah..” You leaned in too, not quite aware you were doing it but just enjoying his smooth skin and radiating warmth. Just at the last moment, before your mouth could touch his, Namjoon straightened and stepped away.

“Go..” He gasped back over his shoulder as he headed for your brother’s bedroom. You watched until he stopped at the door and pressed an ear there, then opened it and disappeared through. When it shut, you spun and nearly fell over, stifling a giggle. The high still had claws in your senses, but you didn’t mind.

In the morning it would all be much clearer and things would be back to normal.

----------------------------------------------------------

“It’s Saturday morning, Y/n.”

Your brother made a statement and it was hard to miss since you’d muted the TV to focus on your scrambled eggs, plate balanced on your thighs. It wasn’t enough to make you look up, but Mark seemed to be expecting something.

Eventually you sighed. “I’ll bite… Yes it is. So?”

“So… Why are you here? You should be out there.” He gestured towards the large picture windows across the way–and the front yard. You knew what he meant but couldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging. Old habits die hard. You still spotted his haughty side eye in a quick glance.

“Out there..” You nibbled half a bite of eggs, lashes fluttering. “Why? Am I supposed to have plans?”

“You SHOULD… THAT’S the problem, sis.”

“Who made you the weekend activities director? With mom and dad gone we can do whatever we want. Talk about a golden opportunity.”

“I know.” Mark’s expression darkened. While everything from his nose up to his hairline betrayed annoyance, his lips still curved good naturedly. Even if your brother was a butthead, he was a loving and concerned one.

“And I’m doing what I want.” You replied around a large mouthful of eggs. You were still quite skilled at ignoring his long sigh. Mark set his plate on the coffee table and eased onto his feet.

“Are you sure? Seems like a waste of the weekend to be in the house, on the couch or…wherever else you might loaf around in this place. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come along very often. Mom and dad don’t go on weekend trips these days.”

It was rich of him to push so hard to explore new options with your parents away. You vaguely remembered him scolding you when it happened a handful of times during your last 2 years of high school.

“This is exactly what I want to do.” You looked him over once with a smirk. “Did college make you a party expert? I don’t remember you going to parties in high school.”

Mark plucked at his sweatshirt sleeve, pointedly avoiding your expectant stare, then trained his focus to the front window. Letting the silence hang, he watched something outside. You chewed. And he stood. Eventually he spoke.

“It’s not like that. I guess I realized that we don’t always have to follow the rules. Even here.”

“The mess in the kitchen yesterday kinda proved that, Mark.” You met his huff with a saintly smile.

Arms crossed, he continued. “Listen.. If you don’t feel like going out we can stay here. But we should do something.”

“Like what?” You glanced at the TV, watching the show that finally came back from commercial but entirely mute. Your lip reading skills weren’t as good as they used to be. And Mark’s patience wasn’t nearly as long as it had been in the past, even if his attitude about the house rules and expectations playing the golden son role had shifted.

“Y/n..” It was the quiet pleading that got your eyes back. Mark was boldly hopeful. Serious. That was ….unusual. After setting your plate down, you turned to face him.

“What?”

“Let’s have some friends over.”

“Hold on.. Did I hear that right? A..house party?”

“Why not.” Mark smiled.

You didn’t expect your brother was a teetotaler but this turn of attitude was still a little surprising. He used to moralize so much about drinking during high school. And god help the whiff of cigarettes or weed anywhere near his delicate nostrils. Just how much went on up on campus? And how much had he done but NOT talked about when he lived here?

“How about the fact that this isn’t some off campus place? It’s the family home. That’s asking for trouble and—” You scoffed. The words trailed away. You flailed in disbelief. “It’s a movie cliche—not real life. Why is this even up for debate?”

“It’s not.” He moved around the couch, grabbing his keys from the side table situated up against the back. “It’ll be fun.”

Mark spoke like he was in charge once again–much to your renewed annoyance. At the coat rack by the door he paused to shrug on a hoodie. You seized the opening.

“Am I still high or is this party really happening?”

“Hope not. Save it for tonight. Between me and Namjoon. we can bring enough.” Mark glanced at himself in the mirror by the door for a once over, then winked at his reflection. The keys jingled.

“..And yes. This party IS happening.”

You’d sucked in and held a breath when Namjoon’s name left your brother’s lips. At least you’d done a good enough job that he didn’t notice any reaction on your face. That was an agreeable bargaining chip. Namjoon wouldn’t turn down the chance to come back here, especially after last night and you were more than okay with it.

You opted to keep your tone even. Chill. “I guess we’ll compromise. But YOU’RE cleaning up the place. The kitchen was my limit.”

Mark opened the door and looked your way. There was a glimmer in his eyes. The planning kind. Maybe he’d been plotting ever since he’d arrived Friday morning.

“Deal. I’ll clean up. We both keep our mouths shut around mom and dad when they get home. We’ll keep it small.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Small was mostly a relative term.

You wandered through the hallway leading from the front door and passed several bodies. You’d never seen this many people at the house and a lot of them seemed to be older. Legal drinking age. Somewhere in one of these rooms Mark was in the mix. You were sure that was his laugh echoing at the far end of the hall, just before the kitchen doorway.

In your dad’s den. You took a step that way but stopped at a feathering touch on your shoulder. Glancing the direction it came, you locked eyes with a nervous face. Your best friend. She made it, looking as skittish as promised to be when you’d begged over the phone hours before.

She stepped closer. “Do you know ANYONE here?” Those doe eyes shifted and you could almost watch the panic twisting her face as she went from person to person as bodies moved around you both, heading this way and that.

“At least…half.” You smiled and slid an arm around her shoulders. “I heard there’s some hot looking guys here.” You were guessing but many of the older partygoers were your brother’s friends. The roster had increased to include new buddies from campus who’d come down. Or had ‘been in the area’--miracle of miracles–as they’d confessed standing on your doorstep when you’d greeted them.

“I heard there’s all kinds of things going on..” She replied, chewing her lip. You knew where her mind was going. Yours had done that route many times before anyone showed up, but you persevered and so could she.

“Y/n…”

“Don’t you dare...You’re—no WE’RE having fun tonight.” It was ballsy to insist she push her comfort zone. You barely knew the edges of your own. The first boundary you’d discovered last night. Both of you knew that and she was decent enough not to use that.

You took a step down the hall, heading the way you’d planned and towards what you were sure was Mark’s voice. Your friend was matching steps, helpless and too timid to do otherwise. Her fingers sank into your bicep as she clenched tighter.

“This house party stuff is so cliche..” You saw the sweeping glances. The curiosity in her eyes, peeking into each room. The music and the sounds weren’t as frightening as they were new. You could understand what she was feeling, you’d just had a couple hours of lead time.

“This is a little different than having just a guy over for a movie.” You grumbled.

“I still can’t believe your brother suggested this.” She spoke out loud what you’d been thinking before people started showing up, a while ago. And now here you all were: more people in this house than you’d ever seen. Even more than that family reunion 7 years ago with relatives from across the country.

“I know. Must have lost the plot. But..whatever. It’s not that rowdy. Come on..” You stepped to the door of the room you were certain Mark was in. After ducking your head in and looking around, you hope fell, face twisting in confusion as several faces turned your way and stared.

None of them were Mark. Back out in the hallway your friend had at least let go of your arm. Her eyes were on the door at this end of the hall, just within reach–the kitchen. You nodded that way.

“He wasn’t here. Let’s try there.”

“Okay..” She replied and followed you through. It barely shut when you both stood there in the semi-lit space. Only the light of the open fridge and a single bulb over the sink gave any revelations about who was here.

Two forms lounged, one bent at the waist, upper body behind the open fridge door and the other vaguely watching, a hip pressed into the counter nearby. He paused, glass rim against his lips as his eyes found you.

“Y/n..” Namjoon. Standing here. Glass in hand. Drinking already–who knew what but it was sending warmth places, helped by the way his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than your friend. Of course he was going to be here. Your brother invited him and Mark was right–to your secret delight you were probably the major reason he showed up.

A squeak came in unison and your friend flinched as the kitchen door swatted her backside and she nearly jumped onto your back. Trying to keep balance, you pasted on a smile.

“Hey..” You managed.

Namjoon took a sip and nodded at the figure rummaging through the fridge. Eventually the form stood and turned, eyes meeting yours as the fridge door shut. You vaguely knew that smile and those wistful eyes under dark bangs.

“Jimin? Wow..” Your smile broadened. You knew he’d hung out with Mark and Namjoon but hadn’t seen him in a while. He wasn’t shy in his warm smile or the way he wasn’t looking at you. Your friend’s nails found the crook of your elbow. Seems she realized who he was staring at too.

Namjoon glanced at your friend, then Jimin. “You two..haven’t met. This is Jimin. An old friend.”

It took all you had to maneuver out of the way so Jimin could shake your hand then move on to your friend. He held her hand for a while, his smile even warmer. Like the temp in the room you could feel creeping up.

It was best to move on briskly and get your friend out of her own way. She was single as much as you and was much less willing to fix that. She’d barely had one good date. Although she seemed as fixated on the wide world of sexual pleasure as you.

Jimin had finally let go of her hand and Namjoon moved around towards you. It was terror and elation, winding around each other as they clawed up from your belly to your throat. Your nervous hair toss did nothing to release energy. Not with how close he stood now.

Looking him over, you raised both brows. “Nice party outfit..”

Namjoon looked himself over and smoothed the sweatshirt across his chest as it puffed under the material. Impossibly wide shoulders squared and your insides clenched. You could easily stand here all night and take stock if you had no company.

Don’t think about last night. God.. All your eyes wanted to do was focus on his lips as they worked and words flowed. Namjoon’s tone, like his demeanor, was unadulterated relaxation. Those dimples were a little pink and his eyes had a pleasant cast. His eyelids fell a little.

“Been pre gaming?” You cut in as he was mid-speculation about how many people were at this party. Namjoon paused and his mouth crooked at one corner.

“Hmm?” He set the cup down and you saw it was still well above half full. “This?”

You nodded.

“Eh..just started actually. You two want anything?” Although Namjoon asked, Jimin was closer to your friend and looked up when the question came out.

“It’s cool if you don’t..” He added. Your friend looked relieved, the worry fading off her features. It was cute the way she couldn’t stop little sneaking glances sideways. It was as if she was shifting under her skin, her fingers clasping each other. Both hands held each other for dear life. You’d never seen her so wound from the simplest of conversations.

“That’s decent Jimin. We’ll pass for now.” You said, then looked at the kitchen door you’d come through. On the other side was that door. To the garage. And to the memory of last night that was threatening to swallow you up. When you looked back at Namjoon he was watching you. It was all too easy to realize he’d been watching you looking there.

And his brief snort spoke volumes too. One palm braced the counter as he leaned into it, coming even closer. You didn’t lean away, body going the other direction towards his warmth. He was too magnetic to resist.

“We should find somewhere to hang out. Just us..” He mused. “..Been a little boring without you here, Y/n.”

“Yeah?” Say it again. Tell me a hundred times more, Namjoon. You resisted actually requesting he repeat himself, instead daring to reach out and pluck the faded sleeve cuff of his nearer arm.

“Take your pick. This house is lousy with private places.” Jimin replied. His observation was as accurate as could be. He’d been here enough times during your brother’s first couple years of high school to know the general sweet spots.

“I think I have an idea then.” Namjoon took your hand and it was so quick you just went with it. If anyone asked you’d readily admit how right his fingers felt when they wound through yours. And how hot his palm felt cupped against your own.

Just in view Jimin and your friend were already quietly talking but following along, drawing even more closer together as they paced you and Namjoon towards the kitchen door you’d come through.

----------------------------------------------------------

It’d been a few puffs on the joint before Namjoon passed it back to you but already a haze was hanging in the air. Even waving your hand didn’t do much as you squinted through the smoke to find his dozy grin as he leaned back against the end of the bed.

You brought the joint to your lips and drew in. It went much smoother than the previous night. You waited a few seconds then let the smoke slowly curl out from the soft O your mouth made. Namjoon was staring and you couldn’t find a single shred of bother about it.

He’d been staring since you sat down. Tearing your gaze from him, you slowly looked around the space, appreciating the large room. You hadn’t spent much time in your parent’s bedroom, but it was a lot nicer than you remembered.

“Why here?” You swallowed after the question was out.

Namjoon’s shoulder jumped. “Never been in here. Not that I remember anyway.” He looked behind, towards the head of the bed. “They’ve got a nice bed too.”

“Yeah.” You studied the lines of his neck and the way his chin was nicely angular as his head fell back against the mattress. Your focus just descended quickly though, eager to go to the places you wanted to know more than anything. Namjoon didn’t lift his head,preferring to talk to the ceiling.

“Your brother’s bedroom is like a match box. Seriously..small.”

“The way he organized it, I’m not surprised.” You agreed.

“I don’t get his insistence on some of the furniture he had. But…no accounting for taste. He’s done much better up in the dorms.” Namjoon’s head came up. His knees fell wide and he shifted to a crossed legged position, slouching faintly. Even so he was still impressively taller.

His tongue drifted along his lips. “...Your room. Never saw much of that. I don’t remember…was it pretty big too?”

You tucked a strand behind your ear. Namjoon followed your eyes as they darted to the bedroom door. It was hard to find a reply as the THC soaked in. Colors sharpened just a whisper. The smell of cologne and fresh sea scent came from the darkness below the collar of his sweatshirt.

“It’s not as small. I’ll admit. I use my space differently.”

“Still got the bed?”

“Hmm?”

Namjoon’s fingers stroked along yours as he collected the joint back. Lips pursed against the damp end, he sucked in another hit. When he spoke his voice was thin and tight.

“That bed…the frame thing.”

A warmth rushed your face, then moved to your neck. Your chest. Your belly. Hands cradled each other for dear life again at the center of your lap. “My canopy..”

“Canopy.” Namjoon nodded.

“Yeah. Still got that.” It was a throwback from your princess ‘thing’ as a kid. You’d outgrown it now but managed to repurpose the frame with a bohemian chic, spa vibe thanks to some sheer panels and artful draping. It was much cooler and leaps of improvement from lace and pink tulle.

“Mmm. Has to be better than Mark’s room. Everything is literally in the same spot.” Something told you he was right but it stirred an itch in your brain that demanded a response.

You went for it. Not as if you could hold back very well as it was. “Namjoon..”

“Yeah?”

“College is a different world?”

“That’s a way to put it. It’s definitely not like high school. A lot more fun but a ton more responsibilities. You don’t do things for yourself, they’ll never get done. Take that as a blessing or curse.”

“You experienced a lot up there—I remember, you said the other night.” The reference to that evening had your body warm again. In your memory that door swung wide open. Namjoon’s eyes only stayed on your face briefly before wandering to your hips. He wore the tiniest smile.

“I did say that. Did it make you curious?”

“A little.” You squirmed and watched Namjoon stub out the joint into a small, empty tin can, then push it away, just out of reach. Now he sat up on his knees, completely facing you, and gave a brief nod. Like he sensed some nerves coming up before you did. He’d be right, the knot in your belly rising. You pushed through it.

“Ask. I know you want to.”

“I don’t really have questions..” You felt terribly shy until Namjoon’s fingertips caressed just under your chin, bringing your face up as he leaned in to gaze deep into your eyes. Both of you stared for quite a bit.

“Ask.” He intoned, more quiet but firmer too. “I’m an open book. I know you think about it..”

“..I..” You swallowed around a whining moan that brought out Namjoon’s gentle smirk. His thumb pad traced your lower lip and pulled faintly.

“..I think about it. Especially the other night. You tasted amazing. I want more, Y/n. Been wanting more since we got upstairs and went to bed. You know how hard it is for me to keep it together now that I know?”

“God..Joon..” You began and your lips circled his thumb when it dipped past your lips. You sucked and he growled, lids drooping even more. The floor creaked as he leaned closer, body heat rolling against you. Scent cloying your brain. The hue of his skin lit up like neon from the drug in your system.

“..What about me do you want to know? What do you want? You haven’t done much–I know. I find that so..sexy. Ask me for it, Y/n.”

You weren’t sure what HE meant, but it worked like a charm as your brain served up the most persistent image and craving ever since he’d laid you out on the couch in the garage. Hell, further back than that–back when you’d come home and spotted his shape in the living room, making small talk with your brother on Friday afternoon.

“What does it feel like?” You gasped after his thumb popped free. The digit was wet. Shiny under the soft white of your bedroom ceiling light. As Namjoon sucked the glossy skin his eyes narrowed.

“It? What do you mean? Sex?”

Your thighs squeezed so tight the blood felt like it stopped there for a moment, bringing you the peace of being briefly pain free. “Y..You. Your..” You couldn’t help as your hand did the rest, darting between his thighs. Namjoon didn’t shy away. His hips leaning into your touch made the building thickness into a sweet kind of torture.

Namjoon felt ….thick. To your uninitiated fingers still wandering up and down one side of his shaft, there was no way he was average. You’d brushed a hard cock before by accident in the heat of a makeout session, but it was always shame on your heels immediately after.

Now it was all a ravenous need, eating you from the inside out. And Namjoon fanned the flame when a hand slid over yours to cradle himself. He’d always hauled the sweatshirt up his body enough to expose a portion of his belly and the waist of his jeans.

“You’re really big.” You moaned out. Namjoon purred, like there was a beast under his skin, waiting for the moment you came too close.

“Your hand feels good though. Is this what you want to know about? Want to feel? …Maybe..see it?” Voice hushed, he carried on, fingers sliding up to the button above the fly. He popped it open and found your hand again, then brought it to his belly. It was hard muscle there and the heat increased as he guided your open palm down, between his skin and the fitted denim banding his groin. Further into the darkness.

“Here..” Anything under the jeans was bypassed too. Nothing separated your touch and his cock. He pulsed and twitched as your fingers swept along the warm skin. Sight unseen, there was NO way you’d mistake this.

Namjoon rolled into your touch, head craning back. Eventually he was free of the sweatshirt and the reward was a full frontal view of his nicely sculpted upper body. Following the urge, you moved closer, lips grazing a few inches above his navel, then slid up between the defined shapes of his pecs, nose and mouth crushed against the center of his chest. Drawing deep, your head whirled. This had to be how heaven smelled. A rumble moved up his sternum, then exploded from his throat.

“Y/n..” The words came husky and heavy. Namjoon’s hips ticked forward. He willed your palm even in the limited space down the front of his jeans.

“Joon..” You managed in a groan.

Whoever decided it, Namjoon’s cock was free a moment later. And your fingers circled more firmly, shuffling up and down his shaft. You watched the way his throat rippled. More blissful keening poured out of this handsome man on his knees in front of you.

Finally he grunted through a smile, eyes finding you under low lids. There was a determination deep in the depths of his bedroomy glare.

“You keep it up you’re going to make me cum.” His admission made your grip tighten, earning his sharp gasp. Then Namjoon bit his lip and drove his hips firmer, stroking through your hold. His eyes closed now, dancing behind the lids.

“Just like this?” You whispered, looking down at your hands. At his jeans riding down, pooled at his knees, pulled taut by the spread of his knees on the carpet. It wasn’t just his breathing catching your attention.

Under your ass a bass beat shuddered the floor. Clearly the party downstairs had gone on just fine without you or Namjoon. And you just needed it to stay that way for a little bit longer.

“Mnnnnn. Yeah..” Namjoon’s teeth seized his lip again and dragged. Finally he rasped out. “You know what else feels good?”

“Tell me..” You murmured, watching the backs of the knuckles on several fingers getting shinier as his cock pulsed. Seemingly expanded in your grasp. The thick head popped through the circle of your grip over and over, faster.

“Run your thumb over the tip. ..Guys are sensitive there–”

The pad of your thumb swept the slit on his tip as it breached through again. “Like this?” A quick look up at his face and you saw the shudder. The loll and a deep breath. Namjoon’s hips drew back and rammed harder, driving himself to the base in your grip.

His cock streamed under your touch. You. Making this response in Namjoon. It kept flowing, precum bubbling around your fingers and trickling down. You didn’t stop. You were as tight as your fingers, squeezing and flexing around nothing like you squeezed and milked his thick shaft.. squeezed. He jumped in your hold and lunged towards you, body weight meeting your front, muscling you into a lean until you were sprawled out on the floor.

Your grip held as Namjoon crawled up your body, aligning face to face. Hips swirling against your pumping hand, his eyes slowly opened. A look that hot, he might burn through the floor.

“Don’t stop Y/n…that’s perfect.” He sighed when you dug the tip of your finger gently against the head of his cock and spiraled this time. Watching a man like Namjoon quiver. Watching him surrender and whine, it all had you reeling. It had long surpassed the high crawling through your body tonight.

“..Yes baby..” His head dipped. Every moan on his way down your chest warmed the material of your top. His lips explored, finding the center of your covered breast and he nibbled gently. Tugged. Fucked against you faster, in exchange for shorter strokes.

You wanted to get real time feedback. What was in his mind right now? Was he thinking at all? There’d been no room in your mind last night. Namjoon’s face swam close. As his lips hunted from your chin upwards, your body arched towards his planking body.

“Y/n..” His desperation sounded so delicious and went right to your brain. “...Kiss me?” He’d been hunting for your lips, based on the way he moaned when they finally sealed against you.

The way your lips worked against his felt like the most natural thing in the world.

His weight pressed down on you even more, trapping the gripping hand and pinning it, with his cock, between your bellies. You groaned and giggled through a breath when he paused the kiss, feeling the tickle of hair along his belly sliding across your navel. His hips moved counterclockwise.

A spurt of liquid heat splashed over your stomach. Namjoon’s head kicked back again. You spotted his face-a grimace of pleasure and shimmering near his temples. “Please..” He gritted. Rutted into the pliant softness of your belly. Breath hitching, he moaned again.

“--I want to feel you cum, Joon. Are you close?”

By contrast to his body, Namjoon’s laugh was relaxed. Shoulders and chest tight, he was straining to and through the moment of eclipse—the peak of stimulation. His mouth came down, wanding over your chin and finding your lips again.

He took his time, kissing you slow and long, rocking steadily. Pace even. Breath quickening. Until he heaved out a “Fuck” and stiffened. You didn’t want to move your mouth away, reaching to his neck, grasping the taut lines there. Namjoon went into one final driving thrust, going to the hilt, then over the edge. In seconds bursts of cum arced.

For a moment all Namjoon seemed able to do was sway. In spite of being planked, his body swayed treacherously. He smothered a single, long groan into the side of your neck as you lay under him. This was the result you’d unknowingly been rushing towards: sticky mess. All over your hand, soaking into your top where friction had dragged it back.

One of his knees hit the floor, then the other and both shoulders bowed forward. His head drooped. As he brought himself upright and sat back, Namjoon surveyed your still sprawled form. What else could you do but lay there and admire him. Even though he’d cum, you felt dizzy too. Euphoric. There was no worry about how wrinkled your clothes might be or how soaked.

Of the taboo you knew would be the most damaging to your harmony if your brother OR parents found out. They had an image of Namjoon and the image they had for you was MUCH more fragile. Maybe even a little naive. But right now, you laid there. Namjoon’s breathing finally slowed and he pushed back his bangs, then his head angled to one side.

“You’ve never had a cock in your hand? Never…touched a guy like that?”

You nodded. No shyness. Zero shame. Confidence crept in at what you’d managed. He seemed to be as out of touch as you, not the least bit bothered with how everything was still just out there, through the open front of his jeans. Not that anyone downstairs had heard over the music and laughter. God knew what else would be happening when you two disappeared, or if your brother might be looking for you. Or Namjoon.

“I’m impressed, Y/n. It felt amazing..” His grin was miles wide.

“Yeah?” Maye he praised all his partners like this but you left that alone, choosing to appreciate his compliment.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, dimples clear and the apples of both cheeks plump over each. “Yes. Did you like it too?”

“..I loved it.” You replied.

“The size didn’t scare you..You sure you’re new to this?”

It did, but this wasn’t the kind of fear that would send you running off. If anything you might be harder pressed to keep away. Which was admittedly a first for you, given how otherwise hesitant you’d been with anyone else.

Namjoon finally got to his feet and stood over you with his hand out, then hauled you upright.

Standing face to face he began rearranging himself–tucking everything back into the jeans. Fastening the button and zipping up and eventually pulling the sweatshirt back in place. Pulling at your top he said nothing about the now rapidly blooming dark spots through the material, right over your belly. His palm smoothed out wrinkled material there.

“It’s a beautiful–….” You stalled. His quick glance didn’t urge you on. Why couldn’t you just…say it? A few fingers stroked your chin then that hand turned over. With the back of a few nails he followed your jawline.

“What, Y/n? It’s okay..” His smile was content. “..Say it.”

“..You have a beautiful cock. It looks like it feels really..good.”

You could really get used to the gentle urging. His push. The way he was guiding you through every experience. It couldn’t stop here. There was more–you knew it and wanted it. Not enough to be dancing along that invisible line you’d never crossed. Not with him or anyone. That line was on fire. Seeing the pleasure all over his face had you eager to jump in a way you’d never felt before.

Namjoon snorted, tickling your chin. “I’m told it feels really good when your partner knows how to use it.” A sweet taste and heat lingered after he grazed your lips and continued.

“Are you saying we should go further?”

“Yes..” You gasped and gripped at his forearm, following down to the elbow then tracing the muscle up to stop at his bicep. You held tight, squeezing a little too hard without more elaboration.

Your nails digging into unyielding muscle didn’t get a single flinch or grimace.

“You’re a virgin though..” The unnecessary but courteous reminder of what had been a non-issue. A nothing status. He had to be trying to play the cooler head. The sensible one. To give you an out and stop a moment of desire from becoming a long term regret. Even so, he leaned into every word, swaying closer.

“..I’m over it.” You confessed. Until recently it hadn’t mattered. The peak has come, tonight. Like an itch you were suddenly aware of for how all consuming it had become. “Whoever changes that for me, it’s gotta be someone I trust. Someone I know appreciates me.”

The silence was wide enough to drive a semi through and you stared as he gazed back. Fingers still on your skin, his lips worked in silence for a moment. You heard every deep, steady breath Namjoon took. When you melted into his arms slid around your middle and tugged you closer.

“It’ll happen.” He finally whispered. If he didn’t make the move, you would. Now was the best time. This was the safest place. Might be a long time before a moment like this came again–if it ever would.

“Namjoon. I want it to be you—be with you.”

“It..” He replied, tone an even mix of curiosity and caution.

“My first time.”

He didn’t seem to have a doubt or concern–making him even more potent to this rapidly growing crush. Perhaps he was ahead of you, seeing if coming from far off. The feelings wouldn’t shrink over time. You couldn’t go back to campus like this or come home to visit knowing these feelings were rooted inside you. There was no getting around it.

Even so, Namjoon’s lips barely curved up. “We can talk about that.”

---------------------------------------------------------

“We’re up this early on a Sunday. You know who wouldn’t approve?”

You were in the closet when Namjoon asked and barely heard him around the half open door.

“Who?” You called back.

“Mark.”

“Oh that’s a stunning revelation.” You scoffed, picking another hanger and arranging your latest shirt on it, then hanging the garment. Now his voice was closer. No need to look to tell the difference: he was in here with you.

“Maybe, but it’s true.”

“Joon did you come here for the weekend to spill all kinds of secrets about my brother?”

“Is that wrong? I find it..relaxing.”

“Well he might deserve to have a few secrets revealed. Especially to his dear, long suffering sister. You mean to tell me he suddenly doesn’t approve of early rising on the day of our lord?”

When Namjoon snickered at your back you paused, arms raised. Just with a sound he stopped you cold. Everything prickled. Near your face a few neatly draped, clean shirts swayed with your exhale.

“I don’t plan on telling you ALL his secrets. No fun in tipping my hand so soon. It could be put to use to make some profit down the road.”

“Jesus..” You groaned then giggled. “You’re as bad as I am.” A moment of silence passed, then you prickled as fingers followed your right hip upwards, rapidly heading for that sensitive space under your arm.

“Were you serious about what you wanted last night?” There was a measured calm in his question.

Is this really happening? “Namjoon…are we really standing in this closet with you really asking about being my first?”

“It’s a little early to broach that topic..” His front touched your back and stayed there. Your fingers reflexively curled the closet rod as your lids fell and a weight dropped into your middle. When his touch skirted the perimeter of your underarm you bit back a giggle. He was quite good at intentionally avoiding the center.

“I’ll forgive it.” You gasped out, eyes screwed shut. Bare toes curled into the carpet as you continued. “Is this the right place to talk about it?”

“The bed might be a better place.”

Now you understood: Namjoon woke up on the bold side of the bed. As much as you might like to indulge, a new day brought fresh panic. It was Sunday and although it was early, the party had left some mess to be cleaned up downstairs. You hadn’t heard any doors slam down the hall or footsteps thumping down to the first floor that told you Mark would be following through on his promise to clean the mess, although you were still optimistic.

“Joon…” Your grip tightened just as your body relaxed and the roundness of your ass settled against his hips, against a telltale firmness that wasn’t diminishing. “God..” You groaned along the inside of your arm at the feeling, tempted to let go—in so many ways. Rather than do that, you willed yourself to focus for just a bit longer.

“There’s time to discuss it. Important things deserve the time. I just want to be sure..” Namjoon’s tone was casual. Even. Absolutely innocent but you heard that smirk he was probably wearing as he replied.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you?” You were teasing, of course. But his swat on your ass was quite the surprise anyway, and a perfect indicator he’d caught the cheeky attitude to his due diligence. The sting sent you up on your toes as Namjoon’s lips wandered your nape.

“Mhmm. You made lots of sounds. ….and I loved every one of them. Just looking for a ‘yes’. I have to know.” His teeth sank in and you broke, releasing grip on the rail and slumping into Namjoon’s arms. They looped your waist again and he backed out of the closet. It wasn’t until you were both out of the closet that bare souls met the floor again.

You whirled around and pushed at his chest. The grin was all over your face and wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t much strength so early in the day, but Namjoon’s eyes narrowed anyway. At least he matched your smile. He bowed a little as he took a step closer. It wasn’t clear what was happening until it was already out of your control to respond. Namjoon shouldered into your middle and lifted. Your world was upside down and bobbing along as he moved, then tumbling as he lobbed you onto the bed, the springs protesting in chorus. The bed frame swayed as one overly stressed unit, a little more boisterously than you’d ever managed.

Namjoon crawled up the bed, right over your writhing form. A few peals of laughter escaped your lips. “...J..Joon you spanked my ass..how DARE you!” Twisting was moot. He’d snatched your hand when you reached for the edge of the mattress. With his body length and weight advantage it was nothing for him to wrestle your arm, then pin that wrist firmly between pillows. He leaned over you more, even closer–enough to feel the sugary heat of his chuckle.

Your heart thundered. The clench was vicious and went on for quite a while. Namjoon pushed your knees wider and caught your other wrist easily to lace fingers then carefully rested that hand on the bed.

“It’s a simple question, Y/n.” He continued. The smile had faded. Namjoon toyed with you so easily. Arranged you on the bed, not that you’d have gone against the stream. As it was, you floated along, dizzy and helpless. But enjoying this arousal and fear. As his forehead touched yours the totally of your attention went into the depths of those familiar eyes.

“And it’s important to me.”

“..About being my first? Y..you’re serious?” Slowly Namjoon nodded, studying your mouth like he was close to devouring it with a single kiss. Truth be told this was the best gift of your year–knowing his interest in being your first wasn’t lip service.

“Yes, Y/n. Do you really want it? This is a special thing….Are you ready?”

The ache gnawing up your folds told you: that part of your body was more than ready. Even if the whole ‘first time’ thing was supposed to hurt, it wouldn’t last that long. And it HAD to be worth it with someone like Namjoon–you felt drawn to him in a way you hadn’t felt with any other guy you’d let get this close to you.

Chin trembling, you finally nodded. “If I don’t find out, I’ll die.” Okay, it was maybe a dramatic take on how you felt, but it was the whole truth right now. And that was all you had: here. Now. And Namjoon above it all.

He sat up, face beaming with a broad smile. Your hands stayed on the bed where he’d put them but your eyes stayed at his narrow hips when he peeled the t-shirt towards his shoulder. In a whip of material it came off entirely. He caught you licking your lips, looked at himself, then locked eyes again as his brows lifted.

“Like my body?”

Every girl with a heartbeat would like it. “Mnmph.” You managed, unable to do the usual ‘Duh’. Coy wasn’t in the playbook right now. There was too much seriousness buried underneath everything in this moment and shared space.

Namjoon tugged the drawstring at the waist of his joggers. You wondered if he remembered that those were Marks AND if your brother even noticed they’d been missing for a few weeks before he went away to school.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Do this?” Head lolling, you savored the way that jogger waist sagged dramatically, then slipped down. The material stopped descent on the thick, semi-vertical bulge at the fly. No rocket science needed to guess what was waiting there.

“Y/n…” His jaw tightened. “What position do you want?”

“Position..” Sweat was already rising on your skin, just along your spine and at the back of both knees. Namjoon eyed your chest. You could feel both nipples tightening in anticipation.

“Yes..” He spiraled one point with a hazy stare. He didn’t give a single inch when your thighs squeezed around his wide spread thighs. “I’m good with anything. Whatever you want.”

You didn’t want to picture Namjoon up at some college campus dorm room, going through every position in the Kama Sutra or at some party folding some other girl into fuckable positions over and over but the threatening tease of imagining it had you tight all over again.

“W..what do you think is a good position?” You’d seen ambitious starlets in a few movies, trying any and all manner of position. You ALSO knew your own limits and ignorance.

Namjoon’s lips surrounded your chin as he sucked softly, then pulled back.

“Good question. First–” He backed down the bed again and helped you up then finished stripping his joggers off and pushed them aside with his foot. Then he stepped close. This time he was slow, lifting your shirt to expose your belly. Kissing the naked skin up to the underside of a breast.

He nosed at the nipple, then moaned across the sensitive point, then lowered again, bringing your shorts down. You’d usually slept in less but with the party came strangers in your house and required a bit more modesty.

This morning, with your brother still MIA, you hadn’t bothered to change or add layers. It was a detail that you were more grateful for than ever. The you of last night had done the you of today a massive solid.

Namjoon backed up further, took your hand and raised it slightly, nodding. “Turn around for me… Lemme see..” Gripping his hand, you turned a slow pirouette until you were back around to find the smile gone.

Free of the shorts. Free of anything separating you from his attention. You swallowed hard during the moment of silence. Whatever Namjoon thought of your body after seeing every inch he played it close, mouth an even line. A few more steps back and he held up a hand.

“Wait here. Gonna go raid Mark’s condom stash.”

“Wh..what? My brother has—” No time to express any kind of outrage there. Namjoon already had your robe off the hook, had shrugged into it and opened the door. Whatever Mark did wasn’t your business. Just like he shouldn’t care what you were doing this morning, last night, or at all this weekend. Not even if it was with his best friend.

You couldn’t let Namjoon go, even if you knew where he was going and why. It was a big no-no, what you were about to do. To …suggest. Mark’s head might explode.

“Joon..” You called a bit louder. More tense as you sat up against your elbows. The hem of the robe barely hung to the middle of his thighs, but Namjoon still looked…good. Too good to be away from.

He shut the door at your voice and tutted at you, brows even. “Y/n…Shhh. It’ll just be a couple minutes—”

“No.” One calf slid along the other as you slowly shifted, uneasy. It wasn’t from doubt. This was from arousal flooding through every pore. Screw careful and safe–you’d already crossed some pretty serious lines. You’d been dumb a couple times already this weekend. This trend of blissful ignorance could go on for a bit longer.

Your lashes fluttered. “..What if I said don’t bother with the extra layer?” You nodded towards him, looking pointedly right at the now fully primed cock tenting the front of that robe. Namjoon didn’t look down. Instead he swallowed as his cock twitched.

I’m not talking about the robe, Joonie boy. You waited and Namjoon’s grip on the door handle eventually dropped away. He shut it again and turned back to you. By the time he reached the bed the robe was coming off extra slow. He took a few extra seconds, unveiling himself like a work of art. …Which he absolutely was.

The robe pooled around his feet, then Namjoon mounted the bed and crawled back up your body until you were even. He was much more calculated with every movement. Your fingers touched his sides and his belly muscles seized. A sound caught in his throat but Namjoon’s lips tightened.

“You’re talking about raw. No condom.” He grinned.

“Yes. I took health class in school. I know the risks.” Including how stupid it was to do this. The urge and curiosity of feeling him bare inside you was a must for your first time. With someone like Namjoon it HAD to be the best, even if that meant risks.

His brows lowered to a strong line over a smoldering glare before he smirked. “Alright. Never imagined you’d be this bold, Y/n. It’s hot..”

The praise rattled you inside. Wet pressure built in your folds. Your hand wandered down and groped. You found what you sought: Namjoon’s thick cock, slippery at the tip and pulsing in your grip. He pulsed when your fingers curled around his shape.

Namjoon’s teeth sank into his lower lip and his nostrils flared.

“God…” He growled. “Your touch is so soft. Been wanting it since last night. Are you this soft inside?”

“Let’s find out, hmm?” You let go and both hands slid up his biceps, then you looped arms around his neck. It was a thick neck–like the rest of this man. He was built wide and built to dominate with his presence. But he carried it well. He was tempered with a soft, sweet personality.

One side of his smile crooked up higher, showing a canine. “Lift your knee, don’t care which one.” You did, finding your muscles trembling. His touch glided along the back of your thigh and followed to the back of that knee. He hiked it higher, guiding your calf around to press the small of his back then leaned down, pinning his chest into you.

“Kiss me..” He whispered. You didn’t need to be told twice and fixed your mouth against his. It was a long kiss but it smothered your whine of surprise as the head of his cock nosed through your folds and dipped into the ring of muscle at the base of your pussy.

When pressure began and skin spread, you gulped back a cry of surprise as your head snapped back into the pillow. He didn’t stop, humming in curiosity and bliss as he inched into you. You felt a pinch of pain that crawled through your nerves. It was almost too much as the widening continued. Just before you reached the point of caving and asking him to pull out, his pelvis pressed against your mound. As he stayed still and gave you time to adjust, his lips roamed your neck. Went down to your shoulder and he peppered kisses there.

“You’re so tight, jesus.” He huffed. “Feels amazing..” The way he was a little shocked and lashing you with praise had your eyes blurring. Your senses lurched in every direction. Fingers found a firm space of skin and pressed somewhere around the base of his neck.

“It’s…” You choked as a flutter shifted you around the cock buried inside you. “P..please..” You finally blinked, bringing your face back to see him clearly. There were telltale signs of tension around the corners of his mouth and right between his brows. Each one trembled at the far ends, even as a stern expression slid in place over his once relaxed features.

Your hips jerked, inching you up his cock. Namjoon exhaled again and slid back, then rocked forward. The bed sank slightly, frame squeaking louder than before. You couldn’t help grinning at the sound. But that smile soon melted into an O of shock as he went a bit faster, stretching out the thrust into a smooth, elongated slide in, then out. Over and over. Your toes curled and Namjoon’s lips grazed across your chin.

Back at your lips his tongue flicked across the plumpest part and you went for another kiss. This one was deep and messy. You didn’t feel anything but a drive to keep going. The pain was dull enough it was replaced almost completely with an exquisite friction.

Your heels pressed into the subtle dips above his ass as you kept your mouth touching his but spoke into the wet darkness. “..M..more.”

“Mmmnn..Like this?” He gave a testing snap and it was a substantial jump in power, sending a shock of pleasure right up your hips. Your head bobbed in confirmation. A laughing breath tumbled along your neck and breasts. He chased the heat with more sucking kisses and repeated the thrust, over and over.

It was continuous motion. The bed frame swaying firmly through a series of creaks and pops. Wherever skin pressed a clammy heat built. Not that you cared, nails sinking. Dragging, clawing down his back. He reacted to the sensation with a perfectly firm bite just above one nipple. When he sucked that one into his mouth you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re liking this.. Am I hurting you?” He whispered after the point of your nipple slipped from his lips again with a subtle pop.

“I l..love it..” You hissed. “Don’t.. stop..”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He replied. Namjoon kept rocking into you. Thrusting. Pushing your body up the bed as you shimmied back down into the place he’d put you. Everything was condensing in your chest and your belly. A knot was filling you up. Something was going to give–you knew this feeling: the tightness. The mild sting and cool rush of an apex between pleasure and just enough overstimulation.

You couldn’t help biting into the skin right where his neck and shoulder met. He didn’t even seem to notice, hips driving into you as he groaned non stop. His head tipped and you saw the shimmer of sweat down the sides of his throat, around his Adam’s apple as it bobbed and danced.

Namjoon fucked a little bit harder, the impact so loud it was above the din of the metal frame and the wobbling canopy over your head. Which didn’t matter either: you found yourself pulled into the pit of a massive orgasm. You came, hard and gasped. Air slipped out of your lungs in a disoriented moan. The clench felt unholy, sending pleasure through your pussy, making your legs go weak. They eventually fell away from his hips and one of his palms pressed into your left inner thigh as he pushed it wider and continued.

You came down from the peak of the orgasm to Namjoon still going. His head bowed as he watched himself ramming in and out of you. Your lips worked but the focused pumps had you speechless again. Another orgasm rushed to you and somewhere above you Namjoon’s uneven moan broke. This time he slowed, stopped to enjoy the squeezing around his shaft.

“Y/n..Jesus baby…cumming for me. GOD that’s so..hot. All for me..I love it.” It was some kind of achievement. Your fingers groped at one pec and your nails dug into hard muscle there as Namjoon giggled. Then his intensity ramped to a pounding. It was impossible to count how long it was but just as the rising tightness returned to your guts, Namjoon’s thrusts became uneven and frantic.

“Fuck..” He hissed. “...You’re still so tight. I feel it..It’s.--”

Euphoria pushed invisible pins and needles from your hairline to the back of your neck as your body lightened. You were rushing towards the edge of another body wide orgasm. Your attention retreated so far you barely registered Namjoon pulling out. He pumped through his fist. It wasn’t long and splashes of cum dotted your skin. Thick threads skidded across your navel and mound. A final massive spurt painted the inside of your thigh.

Your pussy protested, seizing around a painful emptiness, stalled at the very crest of the next high. Hips rising, you chased the sensation, whining as nails dragged his chest. Namjoon grunted and caught your clawing hand.

“Careful Y/n. .Leaving marks gets too many questions I can’t make excuses for later. Gotta be able to hide it..” He kissed your open palm then dropped that hand next to your side on the bed and crawled close again, belly touching. He didn’t seem to care that the mess he made was smearing between his skin and your own. Tacky heat was trapped between two sweaty, relaxed bodies and normally you weren’t into that kind of thing. Leave it to Namjoon to change that.

Eyes eventually open, you laid there spent. It hadn’t exactly been a marathon, but it was work. The good kind. Your thighs shuddered around his waist and Namjoon lightly smirked.

“..You with me, Y/n?”

“...S..stop. My soul and body are intact.” You mumbled, smiling. You felt doped up and loopy but nothing like the good high you’d felt before. You cooed into his palm cradling the side of your face. Every one of your muscles felt boneless and watery–a testament to the purity and completeness of the number he’d done on you. For someone who did the lion’s share of the work, Namjoon looked relatively crisp and alert. He was still able to plank over you and hold his own body weight.

“..Feel good?”

“..Yeah. It felt amazing..” You laughed through the dozy confusion still flooding your brain. “Is it always like this?”

“Flattery, hmm?” You growled and missed most of a strike at Namjoon’s shoulder. He laughed and kissed the corner of your mouth then continued. “..It can be. Depends on who you’re with..”

“With you.” He deserved every ounce of the ego boost and then some. If you could reach the bedroom window to shout it out at the neighborhood, you would. If your brother didn’t know before he’d be certain after that.

Namjoon seemed hesitant, voice low and tenuous. “..–If you don’t want this to be a one time thing I could prove it..”

“I can’t stop at one.” You breathed. Mark could walk in right this moment and catch you wrapped around his best friend, at peak scandal. As far as your feelings, you didn’t want to leave and Namjoon seemed to feel the same way, staying here in the bed and not rushing to get dressed.

It confirmed the assumption when he rolled you onto your side, facing you, squeezed all too close. Seemed surprising now how much you were suddenly okay with sharing this bed. Even as cramped as two bodies could be here.

After a few minutes Namjoon gave a confused smile as you ran with the boldness now flowing through you. You hadn’t come to your senses. You’d just realized that it was show and prove time. Actions did speak louder than words.

As you pushed at his shoulder, Namjoon’s brows pinched. Eventually he got the hint, rolling back over and flat out. Under his wide shoulders your pillows looked a little smaller. For some reason the sudden noticeable contrast lit you up both above and below the waist. After you straddled his belly and shuffled down just below his hips, Namjoon relaxed, head lolling to one side.

“You’re not even wiped down. Look at that…mess. It hasn’t even dried..” He tickled near the globs of his cum still shining on your skin, near your belly button. You didn’t look, leaning forward. The closer your breasts got the more his focus drifted until he leered there as the shapes swaying close to his face.

“I don’t think you’re complaining..” Your nose wrinkled and Namjoon grinned, head shaking. “Good.” Slowly your palms slid up his body, stopping just as his pecs, then you leaned into them and lifted your ass, tipping it.

“Mnnn..” Namjoon’s brow rose as he peered down one side of your body, as the shape of your ass just nicely outlined from his angle.

“This isn't’ missionary..” He chided darkly. “You sure you want to go again?”

As you slid yourself up the underside of his pinned cock, you reveled at how Namjoon’s face twisted into a grimace of what looked like desire. You’d occasionally spotted that look before on rare occasions but it felt DAMN good to be the source right now.

“Think I’m a big girl. I can handle this..” You held back a moan as the thick head of Namjoon’s cock slid past your mound on the way down. When you lifted far enough the organ popped mostly upright, completely hard all over again–like he hadn’t just spent a load all over you.

“Can I…put it in?” You asked, eyes big and innocent.

“It’s yours.. Use it however you want.”

It was the way the sunlight coming through the windows warmed the side of your body facing nearer to the glass. The way you barely noticed the black shapes of cars darting by outside in your peripherals. The slow stroll of a neighbor and their dog, wandering up the sidewalk. All of that paled when your folds slid down Namjoon’s cock again, stopping when he was snug inside you.

When you sat up and the angle changed, a pleasant pressure washed over your torso, blooming right from your pussy. You squeezed and Namjoon’s fingers felt over your ass cheeks. He squeezed the shapes just as hard, moaning quietly.

“You fill me up so good.” You whined quietly, rocking your hips forward then back. Sparkles rode your spine. You did it again and more climbed the vertebrae. Higher and higher until your brain lit up. Namjoon’s meaty grip pulled and pushed you, keeping your pace steady.

Between you both each traded breath got louder. You moaned a little longer. The volume increased when Namjoon added an upward hip roll and pulled you towards his stroke. Your walls tightened dangerously. It felt like he’d turned a tap on inside you, wetness pleasantly washing down, slicking his shaft.

“Must be a good spot. Just got super wet. Is that it, sweetheart?” He purred, tugging you more firmly, earning more flow and another disoriented groan from your lips. Your body rocked as you swayed, helpless like a small boat wandering this way and that, riding the valleys and peaks of the undulating motion, carrying it directions only a great power knew.

“Yes..” You whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as you rocked and rocked. “Namjoon..it feels so…good—” You trailed off, shoulders going back a little too,

“I know.. SO good… Waited so long to find out how good you feel. Now I know.. And I LOVE it. Don’t stop..”

You wouldn’t. You couldn’t, head down, spine arched and together you and Namjoon rocked, mutually racing towards a golden finish. Nothing could stop you. Not Mark. Not your parents. No way you could help yourself. Namjoon’s dulcet sighs below you wrapped like a warm blanket, coating your senses.

I don’t WANT it to end. This can’t be it. I want as much as you’ll give me Namjoon. Whatever you want… just. don’t. stop.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It was crowded in the hallway at the front door. No one around you seemed to mind much. Except Mark, who was busy staring hard at a photo on the wall near where he stood. He’d been staring since you all came down and gathered to say goodbyes.

You’d been fighting some massive emotional rushes that were coming and going since you’d woken up. To forget about them for a little bit, you chose to stare at Namjoon’s breaking smile as he spoke to your parents.

Mark finally caved, reaching out to adjust the slightly cockeyed angle of the photo. It was only fair. He’d been the one to knock it off the wall on Saturday night. You weren’t going to do it and Namjoom hadn’t noticed. Neither had your parents, which was a little surprising.

Considering how hard you, Mark and Namjoon worked, it was surprising how back-to-normal the whole place looked. You’d never guess there were untold amounts of people here doing heaven knows what just a night ago.

Finally a voice was talking to you. It came your direction anyway and you blinked, tearing your eyes away to the source: your mother. Asking with a patient smile, if you were okay with ‘it’.

“What?” You vaguely curved your lips. Mark stepped back in place by your father and snorted softly at you. You dare not give him the finger. That you’d save for later. He was in no shape to give you a hard time with how his red eyes and easy laughter was giving HIM away. One more trip to the garage for the road, you supposed.

“Going along. Seems like a nice offer. You didn’t get to see the place when we went up to visit Mark that first week.”

“Huh?” You ignored Mark’s full on giggle. Namjoon slipped hands in his pocket, staring openly at you, eyes shimmering and warm. Almost pulling you towards him if your parents hadn’t been standing right there.

“The campus. I can drive you.”

“What about me? I can drive.” Mark scratched at the back of his head, eyes half open now, then yawned.

“I’ll drive, Mark. You can sleep in the back. Go get the rest of the snacks. We’ll take them with us. It’s a couple hours drive.”

Mark’s eyes opened again. He liked that idea very much, slipping away with a mumbled ‘Okay’. The kitchen door had only just closed nearby and Namjoon began addressing your parents. Their contented smiles showed they really did like him. And you loved that.

“I can drive her back. Maybe..a day or so from now? There’s plenty of places to stay up there. We can figure it out. I think she’ll have a nice time. Y/n is overdue for a visit anyway. Maybe I could even convince her to apply.”

Your eyes popped and you stepped close to Namjoon. “He’s talking crazy. I’m not ready for a college application yet. There’s still time.” You looped an arm through Namjoon’s and glanced at your parents. “Tour would be alright. But we should go.”

Nods all around as your parents and Namjoon both seemed in agreement. “You should go have fun. Maybe even find a party.. You know.. College is all about that.” Your dad teased. Namjoon traded a brief glance with you then he laughed.

“Maybe.” You finally replied, then tugged at Namjoon’s arm, backing towards the front door.

“We’ll check in when we make it up to campus.” He had to leave those parting words. It was important to comfort your parents when both their children were leaving. They’d have the run of the place and THAT hadn’t happened in decades. For you and them, it was a nice change.

Standing in front of the opened passenger door, Namjoon gazed down at you, his body blocking your view of the house. And mostly everything else. Not that you cared a single bit. You’d take this view any day.

“You sure you want to do this..” You began. Namjoon’s finger brushed your lips and pressed. His face came close as he braced a forearm along the car top near your head, crowding you so nicely. His finger slid away and he flashed a grin.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind seeing the college. Mark’s room… My room. You’ll like it.”

“Yeah the campus could be pretty cool.” Your heart gained a few beats as Namjoon’s lids fell.

“I want to kiss you right now. Tell me not to. Tell me to save it.”

“For what?” You squeaked, wanting to melt into him as those plump lips swayed closer. You could feel the heat of his words over your trembling mouth.

“For later. In my room—my bed.”

“God..” You gasped.

“I have a little more space.. And a much sturdier bed.” Your fingers gripped the car door near the window as you blinked a few times. For the outside you found a remarkable lack of air when you tried to breathe in.

“Cool..” You mumbled and went up on your toes, chasing the ghost of a kiss when Namjoon pulled back and stood upright. Just in time to hear the front door open and close again. Along with Mark’s sneaker’s scuffing. At the back passenger door he ignored you both, opened the door and tossed his bag inside, then crawled in after. The car rocked a little as he situated himself. You shut the door when the rocking stopped.

“It’s gonna be a long ride.” Namjoon motioned. “Get comfortable. When we get there we’ll figure out some food and take the campus tour. Then…” He didn’t finish but both dimples told you enough: you knew exactly what he was hinting at and your body screamed for it, ready and willing to surrender.

“You know…you’re a pretty nice guy, Namjoon. For being friends with my brother.. I like you a lot. Guess we’ll be friends too.” After he opened the driver’s side door he looked over at you.

To your surprise Namjoon winked. “Seems like my plan worked after all. Took a little time and effort, but I got what I wanted. Didn’t realize I wanted it so bad until this weekend. Feels good.”

Your vision dimmed to just him. Your brother’s best friend. Haloed against the backdrop of your parents' lovely yard and neatly painted house. Framed by the rays of a decently cool early summer afternoon sun. He was picture perfect where he stood now. And where he fit into the scheme of your life. You wanted to keep him there. It was like he’d always belonged now that you saw it clearly. It couldn’t be unseen.

“What’s that?” You said, finally. You already suspected. The way he looked at you. The way you felt together. The way you too realized that what had been a taboo was so delicious. So sweet and familiar. And you were hungry for as much as you could get.

Namjoon’s smile grew.

“You.”

#sis writes #namjoon x reader

16 notes · View notes

worldwideseal · 5 months

Text

sis you’ve done it again and i needed this escape especially as we’re heading into summer and i’m ready for change. thank you ❤️ i love you.

also this was a sneak peek of me tonight, processing the fic:

let’s just say i’m not okay but i am okay because of this fic. it ruined me yet cured me. i need that hunk of a man in my life and i WILL marry him. the other seals can’t even spell “marry”. sorry about it.

A Matter Of Time (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k (ish)

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, semi-public sex, night sex, flirting, kissing (tongue and other), making out, drinking, missionary sex, cumming on (you), orgasms (yours and his), dirty talk, oral sex (licking, sucking), intense sex, mouth fixation, finger sucking, fantasizing, semi/public nudity, spying/voyeurism (mild), thinking about Namjoon's big cock. Probably missed a few!

Genre: PWP, Strangers to lovers

AUs: Mildly CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: It's just a vacation at a beautiful resort. ..And it's just a matter of time until it becomes more.

Author’s Note: for @worldwideseal. Suffer well, dear sis. Purely for escape and sauce. Don't trouble yourself with the hows or gaps in this plot, just enjoy.

Thank you for reading, should you choose to. If you feel like letting me know what you liked with a comment, I'd love to hear. Reblogging is ALWAYS appreciated, but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @askkrisachan

The travel agency had promised so many beautiful scenes. By far, this view outstripped them all. And this was not the result of losing track of time in tropical heat or some sun baked illusion.

This was as real as it got: A man, paused at the bow of a decent sized yacht.

The resort brochure had boats—all shapes and sizes. Certainly ones just like this, but being this close to one wasn’t on your itinerary. But snorkeling was, and you’d been doing fairly well at it.

Right up until you’d come to the surface to snatch a quick breath and saw the form, standing at the boat front. You sunk lower into the water, until only your nose and eyes showed.

Even the wide lens of the snorkel goggles didn’t diminish this impressive silhouette. Especially not such narrow hips. Or the way his body just widened the higher your stare went. You’d never seen a shoulder span like this, or a neck so elegantly long and thick.

He wore a smile as he rolled it right, face upturned to the sun.

Whatever might be on his mind, the man wore no concern, letting the sun wash across his sparkling face. Head to toe, every inch of skin shimmered.

You were certainly close enough to watch a few rivulets trickling down one side of his neck. And admire the way his hair was slicked along his scalp with almost artistic swirls. He ran fingers through a section, head rolling your way.

You snorted. A few bubbles broke the surface in front of your face as you bobbed, legs slowly kicking independent of where your focus was: fully zeroing in on this stranger. He certainly looked content relaxing one hip into the bow rail.

I KNEW I should have brought my camera. It was your best investment yet: a waterproof style that you’d saved a bit to purchase. Snorkeling had a purpose and you’d kicked yourself all morning after realizing the camera was sitting on the bed back at the hotel, unused.

Based on the man preening in silence, the camera’s full potential was going entirely to waste.

Wouldn’t have been a crime to sneak a snap or two of this hunk between shots of clownfish and stingrays. Or coral beds and seaweed.

It got better when you actually noted he wasn’t wearing a stitch. It was all bare skin top to toes. He spent a long time in the sun like this because the only parts a shade lighter were the rounds of his ass.

You had to give it to him, those were the best tan lines you’d EVER seen. Following the down slope of his abdomen, you caught the peek of familiar shape. Thick and bare. Your eyes popped as your gaze dragged to the other end of the boat, finding letters, painted immaculately in black with fleur-de-lis shapes accenting.

Fanta-sea

That’s cute. You had a passing concept of boat names, knowing enough that they were usually clever, humorous, or even punny at times. This name suited the owner. As far as you were concerned, he met the definition of a fantasy.

Foremost, yours but who even KNEW how many other women. There was no way on God’s green earth this man was here without company. And if he was? A resort this nice would soon fix that.

You took an unabashed eyeful of the man's ass when he turned away, readily deciding this was the choicest ass you’d ever seen. What you’d managed to see of his front was surpassed only with this angle. He was blessed with long legs and hamstrings defined by sections of tight muscle.

It was truly a delight for the eyes as he strolled towards the bridge, then ducked through an open door there. With him gone, your shoulders surfaced and tension ebbed away. That didn’t stop your lips trembling.

“Jesus..”

Yes, you’d been floating out here for a while, finally accustomed to the temperature, but now a chill ran the length of your body. Skin prickled against the flow as you began a sluggish dog paddle, heading for the shore.

Although you’d started further down from where the yacht floated, it was hard to believe you’d missed it this easily. Every stroke against the current, you tried not to look back. Tried not to think about how he looked. How long he might be staying and was it the same resort?

For now, he seemed to be alone. There’d been no telling giggle, or signs of anyone else there to share the space and the view. No other body sprawled out on the deck, soaking up sunlight. That lack just added more questions to a rapidly growing list.

First and most pressing of all: What is his name?

The second followed just as doggedly, sinking claws into your brain: How could I even meet this guy?

----------------------------------------------

The ‘how’ came about all on its own, when you stood at the bar, watching the bartender pouring your drink. Until this moment, you’d been all too fixated on how close he could get to the top and not spill a single drop.

Just beyond the bartender’s left side, you noticed the stare. It wasn’t that you’d gotten to really see the face clearly, but you didn’t need to.

The shoulders were enough, even stressing the crisp white shirt of the form leaned against the bar, directly across the way.

And your confusion dimmed the lazy jazz and island fused beats down to a thrum as his stare held. You found the barstool suddenly so preciously high with both feet swinging inches off the floor.

Your fingers gripped the bar edge as you watched the man stand and make his way around. When he did, you knew that body, even a layer of clothing on.

With a warm evening breeze playing through your hair, your eyes followed the white, linen shirt approaching. It fluttered around the man’s chest as he braced an elbow into the counter next to your left side.

His smile had one dimple and the very subtle shadow of a second on the other cheek. The neon signs above the bar reflected in his curious stare. Both dark brows twitched up.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” At least you managed to speak up. Although the resort bar wasn’t packed at this hour, it was easy to hear your racing heart. The pace was much more than when you’d been kicking through the waves to chase exotic fish or explore coral reefs. And the view, even better.

A glass slid nearer. The man glanced there, then came back to your face. “Yours?”

As you lifted the glass the contents shivered briefly. Your lips met the rim with a responsive “Mmhmm.”

“Are you here alone?” He was moving along, another temperate breeze washing around you both. He wasn’t afraid to ask what you’d wondered earlier. You were beyond certain that this WAS that same man.

Your skin felt alive. It wasn’t just tropical heat, and it would soon be moving to other places. Several, ready to respond as intended around a good looking man like this.

You gulped down a mouthful of fruity coolness, hoping a little liquid courage would go a long way. Especially with your mind full of nothing but the recall of this man’s bare ass and smiling face, soaking up the sun hours ago.

But do you admit that? How could someone even approach that kind of thing? You couldn’t very well say ‘Yes I saw you naked, on a boat. No big deal..’ It wasn’t exactly a nudist resort here and he probably didn’t even think anyone would see as far down the beach as you’d gone.

It must have been written all over your face, because the man’s head inclined as his expression devolved into a cheeky grin. “What is it?”

“I’m alone.” You replied. His stare intensified, his upper body inching closer,closing off space for the breeze roiling its way down the bar, heading at you both again. Your skin was starting to get clammy.

“Is there something else?”

“..No.” Your eyes moved to the glass, sweating on the counter nearby and your nails drumming the wooden bartop. Out of beat and tapping the nail points in a nervous staccato.

He didn’t break eye contact. “I’m here alone too. How rare do you think that is?”

“Not that rare.” You ventured.

There was no way to really know, but you hadn’t missed the pairs and groups of people wandering around in the previous days. The beach was riddled with goers, all laughing and communing around you and your lone towel, umbrella pitched at an angle as you squinted into a book and sucked down a mimosa for a few hours.

It wasn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t like you’d been able to say you were having the MOST fun you could have. You had plenty of things to do and a partner or friends would just drag your schedule down.

“I think it’s interesting, anyway.”

While he was facing the bar and ordering a drink, you studied his face. The man’s skin had become dewy. The sheen went all the way down into the space at the top of his shirt. This wasn’t like ocean water evaporating in the midday sun rays.

This was a muggy summer sweat, which ALSO suited him well. It was getting hard to ignore the darker spots starting to appear where the sweat concentrated most, at the center of his broad chest.

He turned back with a glass in hand, raised it, then sipped, you spoke up with fingers circling your own glass. You didn’t sip. The glass never even left the bar.

“You’re here on that tour package–Island Escape?” It didn’t hurt to ask. “...I am. It was a great deal. Once in a lifetime thing, you know?” You added. Now felt like the right time to lay out your purpose for setting foot on these beautiful grounds, and it'd save him the trouble of asking.

He smiled again. “I’m more the self guided tour type.”

“You travel a lot?” Alone, hopefully.

The man nodded. You smoothed hair from your neck, winding the sweat dampened strand around one finger.

“Is it for work or…” Your voice trailed off. Bare toes curling, you came off the bar seat and went to the balls of both feet. You shouldn’t yield to the pressure pushing up from inside your hips, but there was every incentive NOT to ignore it.

“..Or something.” The man’s lids lowered perceptibly, watching you over the glass as he took another long sip, then set it down, entirely facing you.

Something about that was so satisfying, despite being overwhelmed. KNOWING he was looking at you, versus you looking at him–with him unaware–was an entirely different ball game.

“How often do you take these trips?” The man asked.

“Let’s start with the important question.” You retorted, a smile breaking out. He mirrored it, showing just how perfect his teeth were too.

“Hmm?”

“What’s your name?”

His head dropped with a chuckle, making both shoulders dance and drooping the shirt front lower. Giving a clear-as-day view of the tight valley between his pecs. And hints of muscle there, judging by the shadows playing. Your throat clenched.

“Yes, we SHOULD get that out of the way. A nagging detail, but probably important. I’m Namjoon.”

After he said his name, he held out a hand. You found his grip warm and measured as he pumped your hand but didn’t let go first. You wanted to hold it all night, but reluctantly pulled your hand back and rested it palm down on your thigh, feeling the heat through your gauzy skirt.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s head bowed deeper this time, then he looked towards the resort, watching people further away. There were more couples. Somehow the attendance doubled between when you’d gotten here and when he’d come over. It wasn’t like anyone here knew you’d stumbled upon this man hours ago, when you’d seen him in a most intimate way–birthday suited and sun drenched.

For all you knew, this resort had a nudist beach portion. There was plenty to discover and you only had a handful of days. You’d only begun to check off a full list of activities, none of which stimulated below the belt.

Until tonight.

“You’ve been here a little while?” Namjoon asked, stepping closer. Standing that much closer. Within reach, more so than he’d been before. Unspoken respect, but that didn’t mean you weren’t more tempted to reach out and touch.

Underneath your skirt, the heat was becoming too much. So was the ache that was gnawing through you.

“A couple days.” You agreed.

“Me too. It’s nice this time of year.”

“Is that your..boat?”

Namjoon’s brows shot up again, then pinched briefly. “My boat?” He looked good, even feigning confusion, eyes shining playfully.

“Yes.” You puffed a little. “Out there in the water–I saw it earlier.”

“When?” He asked.

“Today. I was snorkeling and I saw it….saw you.” Fire clawed up your neck. Namjoon caught the flutter in your lids and lowered his own more. He took a brief bite of his lower lip, then scoffed.

“Did you? What was the name on the boat?”

“Fanta-sea, I think.” Don’t think. I KNOW. And Namjoon KNEW that you knew. His face came a little closer.

“Yeah. That’s my yacht. Didn’t think anyone would be on the section of beach, down that far. Usually it’s empty.”

Usually? You swallowed hard. “You’ve been there before?” Surely he meant the day before, or earlier than that.

“This time of year, yes. Other times it’s pretty packed. I try to avoid it in the dead of the season.”

“Season.” You echoed. Clarity was coming, rapidly. He wasn’t talking about it as a season vacation package-goer. This was so much more.

“Mmhm. Travel season. When vacationers overrun this resort. It’s not too bad right now. But there are times..” He didn’t finish, chuckling. When he grew quiet you stared into his eyes. And he looked deeper into yours, stirring something that had your walls twitching.

“Sounds rough..” You managed. You wanted to finish the rest of your drink but you were certain the glass would smash to the ground if you tried to pick it up right now. Instead, Namjoon pushed the glass further out of reach, following the bar top towards your hand. His fingers lightly rode the knuckles on the back of that hand.

“Y/n..” He was solemn as another breeze wrestled the shirt around his body. Your thinned lips refused to release any kind of affirmative sound—not that he needed it to continue. “..Have you ever been on a yacht?”

You managed a head shake.

“I want you to see mine. Come with me?”

You wanted more than that. You wanted Namjoon, just as you’d seen him earlier, except bathed in moonlight, naked under your gaze. If you could be guaranteed a chance at that….

Once again, he must have read the desire telegraphing in microexpressions across your face when he took your hand, fingers laced easily through. He tugged you closer, staring down his nose.

“Know you didn’t come here to see a boat, but trust me. It’ll be worth it.”

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You’d managed a few indulgences in your time on this planet–the occasional spa day with your closest friend. A nice dinner with your parents. A birthday shopping spree at the best stores on the rich end of town.

Stepping foot on a yacht wasn’t quite on your list, but not for the reason you’d assumed. Where you lived wasn’t close enough to a beach or convenient to fly to without sinking a whole day in and out of airports and planes.

But this trip came with bonuses that checked the lux yacht experience off your list after inking it right at the top.

Stepping onto Namjoon’s yacht proved it was even BETTER from on board than it had appeared floating in the ocean and stone’s throw away. Even with just the moonlight painting the finely finished wood deck.

The surface was cool under your feet as you paused away from the ladder and slipped off your flats. You laid them next to Namjoon’s shoes, arranged neatly side by side, then followed him as he moved towards the beam, where the yacht seemed to be widest. You could spin around, arms wide and never hope to hit a single thing–in fact ALL of your closest friends could do that very same thing with that guarantee.

Namjoon had turned, watching your big eyes roaming with a measured smirk. Slowly his arms crossed at his chest.

“View better from up here, hmm?” The wind was stronger here, and a bit cooler, coming off the water and the rocking of the yacht wasn’t noticeable as you’d expected. It was more an imperceptible sway.

“It’s beautiful.” You marveled.

Eventually your attention found its way to Namjoon, the darkness around consuming the taller portions of the ship, disappearing into the shadows if you squinted up or in any direction too far.

Not that it mattered.

This man standing just in sight, chest expanded, and the wind teasing his shape through whipping fabric was the best, most breathtaking view of them all. You weren’t even sure you’d noticed any stars in the sky as you gazed at Namjoon’s beaming smile.

“When you saw me today….What was I doing?” A step brought Namjoon close again and you braced, leaning into the soft tilt you could feel in your senses as a wave rolled the giant yacht body a little.

“Just…standing here.” You replied, skimming back more hair as it spilled forward over your shoulder, dragged by the wind. You knew he was watching that action, his eyes roving in matching directions.

“Standing here?” He glanced down. “I don’t think it was here.”

You held back a giggle. “Obviously not there.” You looked around, nodding towards the bow of the boat. “There… I think. It was hard to tell from down in the water but…I saw enough.”

“Did you?” He moved by you, but had your hand as he did, pulling you closer to the railing. You didn’t end up there, but you could see down into the water from the nose of the boat well enough. You had a sense of somewhere, in that dark ocean below, that he’d be lying to say he hadn’t seen you floating there–even as vast as the ocean was.

The water was too clear and calm earlier. And your bright pink snorkel set stuck out like a sore thumb, but you said nothing, combing back more hair on the other side, tucking it behind that ear.

Namjoon released your hand. His feather lite touch grazed your chin.

“I was standing near here.. Hmm?” You nodded, watching him do the same a little, fingers circling your chin. Pressure came as he squeezed softly, pulling the rounded shape up faintly. “..Just doing nothing?”

You managed another nod, grateful he didn’t let go.

“...What else did you see?”

“What do you mean?” You breathed. That building feeling that had nestled and filled up your pelvis became a massive, pulsing ache. There wasn’t a single, undisturbed nerve there.

“I think you can tell me.”

Whatever had compelled you to keep staring as you did earlier today, treading water, or not long ago, across the bar, on Namjoon’s approach, it was bigger than everything right now. And it kept you from breaking eye contact. It prevented any lie from growing roots.

“..Nothing.” Your tongue swept your lips and the wind sucked the moisture right off in a blink. “..You weren’t wearing anything.”

Namjoon’s face relaxed as his brows shifted as he nibbled his lip longer this time. “And what did you think of that?”

It wasn’t like you’d never seen a man naked. In your life you’d seen PLENTY of them. All shapes and sizes, but none like Namjoon. None had hit you so directly in the center of your need.

“I liked it.”

“I liked being naked. It’s freeing.”

You squeaked. It meant something, but you didn’t have time to figure out what. Namjoon’s thumb pried your lower lip down as he leaned towards you. His lips opened just a little. Dizziness rushed to your head as you swooned towards his approach.

At the last minute he stopped, the touch of his lips a silky heat as he spoke into your parted lips.

“Did you like what you saw?”

“Yes.” You whined. “Your body is—”

“Mmnnn..” He dragged his lips across yours for a peck and pulled back just so, again. “Be naked with me? I think you’ll find it’s liberating here.”

“Here?” You blinked, feeling your lips sinking around his thumb as he fed the tip past your lips.

“Yes. Out here. On my yacht. On the deck. Under the stars. Are you here to enjoy yourself and do what you want? I am.”

You didn’t answer, lips still tight around his finger, until it popped free from your latch. You chased it a little until Namjoon seized your chin again and leveled his stare on you, nose to nose.

“Y/n..” His tone dropped a level, dragged across gravel. Serious, to match his unflinching gaze. “What did you want when you saw me naked?”

Where could you even start? You went with the first thing your brain and loins demanded in unison.

“I wanted to feel you.” Confession felt so good, the heat spilling up out of your mouth as you spoke. Namjoon leaned his front into you, letting you get a good sense of his body. And it was exactly as firm and muscled as it looked from that big, deep blue world below.

You went about as wet too, right at your seal. Your nipples perked and you moaned when his chest dragged your top across the newly woken points.

Namjoon cradled one hip, then gathered the hem of your shirt, guiding it up your side. The other hand did the same, bringing your top to your breasts, peeling it away. Along with the bra underneath, he dropped both to the deck.

Smiling, Namjoon pulled your hands to his hips and nodded. “Go ahead. Help me out?”

This was really happening.

All the questions and pondering that had been building all day long and simmering all night were now about to find a happy realization. Fruition, in the form of your fingers, under Namjoon’s shirt, pushing rough and fast. He did the rest at his shoulders, hauling the garment off. It went right to the ground, atop yours.

Without speaking, your fingers walked the waist of his bottoms, finding them just like his shirt: a lighter material and quickly off his body. He kicked them clear after you stood up. Without waiting, his hands guided your skirt down.

As the stretching waistband widened and rolled down your hips, Namjoon mouthed over your bare belly. You moaned, listening to the sound carried away by the salty breeze. It didn’t matter–what mattered was how good this felt.

The water lapped the hull as Namjoon’s lips pressed into your skin. He tugged a bit of skin below your navel, shuffling your panties down last. When his open mouth found your pussy, your thighs shook and you melted down against his face.

Namjoon was ready, jaw flexing as his hands caught your hips, lifting you enough. His tongue dove against your folds, spreading you with a few long, firm licks. From the way his moan rattled your mound, he was more than pleased with the taste.

The stars you barely made out winking in the sky overhead, faded again as your eyes rolled shut when Namjoon pulled your clit tight between his lips. And sucked, deep. Hard. Pulsing his lips with a suction that didn’t falter.

It went on for some time until you felt like everything was flowing down, out of you. Your senses finally came back enough to groan his name as fingers scraped his scalp. Twisted hair through your fingers, tugging him closer, then trying to pull him away.

Namjoon wrestled himself free with a dulcet sigh. “You taste…so good…” He swabbed your slick from his lips in a lick, then palmed your ass. “...Lay down for me, baby..”

The deck was exactly as smooth as it'd been under your soles, when back and ass met it. No sooner and Namjoon went to hands and knees, then stroked both palms down the insides of your thighs to guide them apart and settled between. One leg he draped along the inside of an arm, the other he pushed up and out, angling the knee to widen you.

Opening you at the very center, wind spilling over slick coated skin. It felt good, but that didn’t last long. The gnawing emptiness was back and your hips twisted as you whimpered. The very last thing on your mind was the devilish details.

Small things, like what Namjoon said next.

“Y/n…You okay with raw?”

I shouldn't. So why do I WANT to? Vacations were about being care free, but this was about as far from sensible as you'd ever been. ...And every fiber said you WANTED it. Right-wrong-whatever, let it sweep you up.

Your palm struck wood, then dragged with a squeal of damp skin and sting of friction. Breasts jerked and rose higher as you arched. Impatience went right down to the center of your soul.

“Yes..” You gasped. “..Just want you.. Please… fill me up.”

Namjoon’s gripped cock drew close and he swept the head right up your center, coating the blunt end. You wanted to wither at the way he moaned in surprise. It wasn’t long before he guided his tip right against your opening.

A palm thumped against the deck, bracing right next to your hitched knee. The other arm bent, keeping your other draped leg angled shamelessly high. Then Namjoon slid inside. It was relief at first, as you stretched around his shaft. Then it was sweet pain as he sank deeper, stretching you more.

Your ass wiggled when Namjoon pulled back. Pushed in, with a single, firm body roll. He slid back out, then plunged again, this time falling immediately into a steady pump. He had a stroke that said he knew what to do with himself.

And how to take care of the perky tightness that was developing the more he thrust. Your fingers started at his forearms, circling there, then nails touched skin, sinking in, then dragging higher with a low moan. Your body shook with the impact, then gyrated counter to Namjoon’s marching pace.

“You feel so…tight. God..” He snarled, snapping hips harder. Less gentle, his head went back. The stars were back, under your lids, and when they opened, the shining started on Namjoon's skin.

Underneath your bare ass and back, the deck was alive with sound–you shifting up inch by inch with the power packed into each forward driving motion. Namjoon was heading quickly towards pounding and it was opening a pit of pleasure under your belly. Your walls gave a massive clench and chills washed over you.

An orgasm was right there, about to hit you hard. Your cocked knee recoiled more, snapping in place over Namjoon’s hip. The other heel sank into his back. Both climbed higher as he grunted. Added force. Barreled into you–through you. Waves of pleasure built on top of each other inside you.

Another dizzying rush and you barely gasped out “That’s it…Namjoon—” before it all hit you at once. Struck you dumb in a full body convulsion. His instroke faltered as you seized around him, clinging so hard onto his biceps that he shuddered. It must have hurt, but you couldn’t be bothered to notice.

You couldn’t help anything you did,except let out a high pitched shriek of relief. However far that carried, it wouldn’t be a surprise if it reached the shore. You’d taken more than enough time at 7 knots, getting further and further offshore, rising and boring through inky waters, deep into the approaching night.

And it led to this: you, under Namjoon, his cock stabbing relentlessly into you as he went on after a short reprieve. Enough that he could pummel you again, taking his own turn. Your nails slid through moisture again.

Had to be more sweat developing faster than the wind could wick away, but that was fine. Your pussy was ultra wet, just tight enough he could get away with more force. More depth. And it sounded so good. You were helpless to do much but lay here. Taking it with eyes bleary and fixed on a far away point of light. A single, white point blinking in the distant horizon.

It was just like that moment you’d seen him on the bow–under the golden sun. A mirrored moment, but bathed in white of the moon’s delicate aura now. Head craned, lines in his neck strong, taut skin aglimmer again. And like earlier, it pulled you in entirely. You couldn’t look away, eyes barely open, adrift in the afterglow.

And you, rocking against the final thrusts. Rocking like the waves against the ship’s hull, giving away as it was meant to: You, wet and pliant, melting around Namjoon with his last plunge in, before he pulled out and brought himself upright, head thrown back. His shaft speared once more through five tightly circled fingers, then the spurt of cum splashed onto your belly.

Hitting higher, shot by shot until he created a decent, milky pool between your shivering breasts.

Namjoon had to be proud of the sight: sweat and his load, mixed on your chest and torso. He openly admired, then his shoulders dropped. Eventually he leaned over you. In spite of however much effort he’d just put out, Namjoon was still just as careful laying against you with his full body weight.

His weary smile wasn’t lacking any satisfaction. A dreaminess painted his moon washed features. You found it easy to get lost, admiring in silence as he gathered thoughts then spoke.

“...God.. you’re…” That was YOU, robbing an obviously well spoken man of the coherency he was accustomed to. Probably even KNOWN for in his daily and professional life. I did that. And fuck does it feel AMAZING. If the girls back home only knew…

Not that you’d ever tell.

“Mmmm..You…didn’t want to finish inside me?” Was that really pouting in your tone? Were you really too fucked out to question yourself or hide it?

Namjoon chuckled, looking down at your breasts, and further, getting a much closer look at the chaos he’d left behind. The verdict was in–he was quite impressed at the handiwork.

“You didn’t ask.” When he dragged fingertips through his fluids on your belly, then headed for your mound, your hips lifted. His hand pulled back just before he reached what you were offering all over again. “..Mnnnngg…Good aim and distance.”

“You’d cum inside me if I wanted?”

Namjoon looked at you again,from under lowered brows, wearing a questionable smirk. “I’d consider it. Not the brightest move if we’re strangers.”

“Neither is condomless sex. Or sex on a boat, in the open ocean air.”

“Sex on the beach is an option too, Y/n. The night is still young and I know a stretch of beach that’s empty for SURE this time.”

“God..” You began. Delight tightened everything inside. Although you’d just cum, the body was quickly recovering and the mind was more than willing to meet this man’s unflagging energy. “..Namjoon..” you gasped, turning your face when shyness caught up for a moment.

He wasn’t letting that feeling gain any traction,bringing his face close, angling for a kiss. Ultimately soft, exploring your mouth lightly with his tongue. When yours flirted past his lips, he sucked the tip and you squeezed around nothing, drowning in a moment of pure desire. The kiss was over all too soon, and Namjoon was sitting up onto his knees.

“Let’s go below deck. Clean up and change.” He’d already begun indiscriminately collecting clothing, pausing to dab away the more plentiful globs he’d left behind on your chest and belly.

“Does that mean we’re heading back to shore?”

Namjoon sighed. “..Eventually, we have to.”

He WAS right, but you didn’t want to just yet. Not tonight and maybe not until tomorrow afternoon. It was much different enjoying the ocean being out on, rather than splashing hundreds of feet offshore or laying out on a towel in the sand.

Namjoon detected the concern in a pinch between your brows. “What’s wrong?”

“Does ‘eventually’ mean…now?”

“Not if you don’t want it to. I don’t…Is that okay?”

Relief felt as cool as the night air racing across your thighs and breasts. The puddled fluid on your skin was rapidly becoming distracting for different reasons: a persistent reminder of the temperature falling around you as the night wore on.

“Yes.” You smiled as he took your hand and brought you to your feet. Even entirely naked, you suddenly didn’t care much. It was a nice surprise. In the past, nudity hadn’t been the easiest for you. A vacation from that hang up was a bonus.

Standing face to face, Namjoon watched you for a moment. And you gazed up, remembering the moment you saw his eyes, around the bartender. You hadn’t done much and it hadn’t been long, but you felt different enough to ensure you’d come back from this trip a changed person.

“Let’s get settled. Sleeping on a yacht in the ocean…It’s like a waterbed. Best sleep of your life..” There was no need to promise. Namjoon had already guaranteed it. From the pleasant and relaxing heaviness seeping through every limb, this would be the most refreshing night of sleep you’d had in a long time.

And when it came to vacations and resorts, this would lead the pack for a long time too.

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You buckled the lap belt long before the flight leveled out and reclined back into your seat. It was routine. Everything, going off without a hitch. At the airport reasonably early. Breezing through security. And now, perfectly situated–magazine on your lap. Earplugs prepped for insertion. Carry on tucked under your seat. Your final step in the ‘routine’ was a look out the window.

Cruising altitude was a few minutes away, but peeking out the small window to your left, you could see it all easily enough.

The island. Large, pale squares of the resort’s most prominent buildings. Even the darker red clay tiles of the resort bar. Where your best night had begun. Better than the hikes. Better than the tours of the ancient landmarks.

And out there, at the shoreline, the thin white trail of the waves rushing at the shore line, then ebbing away as they slid back to where they’d come: the vast and endless ocean. You couldn’t make out figures on the beach anymore, from this high up.

And because of that, you knew looking for Namjoon was fruitless, until the moment you saw it: his ship there, anchored further down the shore, opposite from where you’d found him. A single, elongated white shape, alone on the blue.

For a moment a pang of sadness filled you dangerously to the top, bringing a brief heat to your eyes, but you blinked it away, smiling against the thick plastic of the window. You focused on his boat for a bit longer, then shut the window shade.

It was how you needed to leave things: the last sight should be what had made the most impact in your memory: Namjoon. And his smile as he let your hand go first,when you’d left this morning. Early–just before the sun was fully out, sweatshirt shapeless on your form, eyes puffy from sleep but still struggling to drink him in so close.

And what he’d said–that he’d see you again... How did you know?

Show and prove came in the form of a link: a text with a link. When you clicked it brought up a calendar with Namjoon’s name. There wasn't much detail beyond dates and locations--blocks of color hashing out days at a time.

Whoever Namjoon was here at the resort, beyond the boundaries and back in daily life, he was regimented. Private. Very secure. Protective of his time and much, much more.

Those walls were high but for a few hours he'd given you a peek over. This text brought them down again--something you had a feeling did not come easy or often.

He meant what he said. 'I'll see you again.'

Scrolling forward through his calendar, for a few months from now, you knew exactly when. Your mind was already doing the math farther ahead. Finding that perfect alignment.

All you had to do was pick a date and fly there. From here,and no matter how far apart you were, it was just a matter of time.

250 notes · View notes

worldwideseal · 5 months

Text

joon stans (aka the other seals) coming in hot in 3…2….1

Sis wrote another joon fic and it’s gonna be good. joon stans will be very well fed.

A Matter Of Time (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k (ish)

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Genre: PWP, Strangers to lovers

AUs: Mildly CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: It's just a vacation at a beautiful resort. ..And it's just a matter of time until it becomes more.

Author’s Note: for @worldwideseal. Suffer well, dear sis. Purely for escape and sauce. Don't trouble yourself with the hows or gaps in this plot, just enjoy.

Thank you for reading, should you choose to. If you feel like letting me know what you liked with a comment, I'd love to hear. Reblogging is ALWAYS appreciated, but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @askkrisachan

The travel agency had promised so many beautiful scenes. By far, this view outstripped them all. And this was not the result of losing track of time in tropical heat or some sun baked illusion.

This was as real as it got: A man, paused at the bow of a decent sized yacht.

Right up until you’d come to the surface to snatch a quick breath and saw the form, standing at the boat front. You sunk lower into the water, until only your nose and eyes showed.

He wore a smile as he rolled it right, face upturned to the sun.

Whatever might be on his mind, the man wore no concern, letting the sun wash across his sparkling face. Head to toe, every inch of skin shimmered.

Based on the man preening in silence, the camera’s full potential was going entirely to waste.

Wouldn’t have been a crime to sneak a snap or two of this hunk between shots of clownfish and stingrays. Or coral beds and seaweed.

Fanta-sea

Foremost, yours but who even KNEW how many other women. There was no way on God’s green earth this man was here without company. And if he was? A resort this nice would soon fix that.

“Jesus..”

First and most pressing of all: What is his name?

The second followed just as doggedly, sinking claws into your brain: How could I even meet this guy?

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Just beyond the bartender’s left side, you noticed the stare. It wasn’t that you’d gotten to really see the face clearly, but you didn’t need to.

The shoulders were enough, even stressing the crisp white shirt of the form leaned against the bar, directly across the way.

And your confusion dimmed the lazy jazz and island fused beats down to a thrum as his stare held. You found the barstool suddenly so preciously high with both feet swinging inches off the floor.

Your fingers gripped the bar edge as you watched the man stand and make his way around. When he did, you knew that body, even a layer of clothing on.

His smile had one dimple and the very subtle shadow of a second on the other cheek. The neon signs above the bar reflected in his curious stare. Both dark brows twitched up.

“Hi.”

A glass slid nearer. The man glanced there, then came back to your face. “Yours?”

As you lifted the glass the contents shivered briefly. Your lips met the rim with a responsive “Mmhmm.”

Your skin felt alive. It wasn’t just tropical heat, and it would soon be moving to other places. Several, ready to respond as intended around a good looking man like this.

It must have been written all over your face, because the man’s head inclined as his expression devolved into a cheeky grin. “What is it?”

“Is there something else?”

“..No.” Your eyes moved to the glass, sweating on the counter nearby and your nails drumming the wooden bartop. Out of beat and tapping the nail points in a nervous staccato.

He didn’t break eye contact. “I’m here alone too. How rare do you think that is?”

“Not that rare.” You ventured.

“I think it’s interesting, anyway.”

This was a muggy summer sweat, which ALSO suited him well. It was getting hard to ignore the darker spots starting to appear where the sweat concentrated most, at the center of his broad chest.

He turned back with a glass in hand, raised it, then sipped, you spoke up with fingers circling your own glass. You didn’t sip. The glass never even left the bar.

He smiled again. “I’m more the self guided tour type.”

“You travel a lot?” Alone, hopefully.

The man nodded. You smoothed hair from your neck, winding the sweat dampened strand around one finger.

“..Or something.” The man’s lids lowered perceptibly, watching you over the glass as he took another long sip, then set it down, entirely facing you.

Something about that was so satisfying, despite being overwhelmed. KNOWING he was looking at you, versus you looking at him–with him unaware–was an entirely different ball game.

“How often do you take these trips?” The man asked.

“Let’s start with the important question.” You retorted, a smile breaking out. He mirrored it, showing just how perfect his teeth were too.

“Hmm?”

“What’s your name?”

“Yes, we SHOULD get that out of the way. A nagging detail, but probably important. I’m Namjoon.”

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.”

Until tonight.

Underneath your skirt, the heat was becoming too much. So was the ache that was gnawing through you.

“A couple days.” You agreed.

“Me too. It’s nice this time of year.”

“Is that your..boat?”

Namjoon’s brows shot up again, then pinched briefly. “My boat?” He looked good, even feigning confusion, eyes shining playfully.

“Yes.” You puffed a little. “Out there in the water–I saw it earlier.”

“When?” He asked.

“Today. I was snorkeling and I saw it….saw you.” Fire clawed up your neck. Namjoon caught the flutter in your lids and lowered his own more. He took a brief bite of his lower lip, then scoffed.

“Did you? What was the name on the boat?”

“Fanta-sea, I think.” Don’t think. I KNOW. And Namjoon KNEW that you knew. His face came a little closer.

“Yeah. That’s my yacht. Didn’t think anyone would be on the section of beach, down that far. Usually it’s empty.”

Usually? You swallowed hard. “You’ve been there before?” Surely he meant the day before, or earlier than that.

“This time of year, yes. Other times it’s pretty packed. I try to avoid it in the dead of the season.”

“Season.” You echoed. Clarity was coming, rapidly. He wasn’t talking about it as a season vacation package-goer. This was so much more.

You managed a head shake.

“I want you to see mine. Come with me?”

You wanted more than that. You wanted Namjoon, just as you’d seen him earlier, except bathed in moonlight, naked under your gaze. If you could be guaranteed a chance at that….

Once again, he must have read the desire telegraphing in microexpressions across your face when he took your hand, fingers laced easily through. He tugged you closer, staring down his nose.

“Know you didn’t come here to see a boat, but trust me. It’ll be worth it.”

----------------------------------------------

But this trip came with bonuses that checked the lux yacht experience off your list after inking it right at the top.

Namjoon had turned, watching your big eyes roaming with a measured smirk. Slowly his arms crossed at his chest.

“It’s beautiful.” You marveled.

Eventually your attention found its way to Namjoon, the darkness around consuming the taller portions of the ship, disappearing into the shadows if you squinted up or in any direction too far.

Not that it mattered.

“Standing here?” He glanced down. “I don’t think it was here.”

You held back a giggle. “Obviously not there.” You looked around, nodding towards the bow of the boat. “There… I think. It was hard to tell from down in the water but…I saw enough.”

The water was too clear and calm earlier. And your bright pink snorkel set stuck out like a sore thumb, but you said nothing, coming back more hair on the other side, tucking it behind that ear.