coming to my senses | knj (m.)
synopsis ↳you cross paths with a man at an art exhibit who challenges the remaining senses you have left.
— strangers to lovers!au; college!au
→pairing: art major!kim namjoon x blind painter!female reader ↳featuring: film major!park jimin
→genre: angst, fluff, smut
→word count: 12.8k+
→contents ⨯ warnings: sad sad stuff sorry u guysss :((( (but it gets better I promise!), strangers to friends, then friends to lovers lol, namjoon and reader are virgins (oop), kissing, use of sex toys, squirting, handjob, oral sex (f + m receiving), public sex (kinda, not really) more like exhibitionism, creampie, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, unprotected sex (stay safe plz!), art studio sex (yes yes i said it. it’s actually softy soft vanilla sex (love making) [like nothing too crazy but srsly give it a chance ok]), also passive-aggressive jimin makes an appearance so be prepared, namjoon is SO SOFT in this (who doesn’t love soft joon ugh)
a/n: WOW you guys!!! I’ve had this in my wips literally FOREVER! *checks date* Feb 11th, 2020 (YES since February! HOLY SHIT), I know I am horrible plz forgive me. this is the longest I’ve written so far, but I have wanted to release this story for awhile now, since I had never read or heard of a fic with blind!reader, more specifically a blind painter. I think that I really took a lot of time with this one because I needed it to be right, considering that I wanted the main focus to be on the senses. (hence the title) so, working extra hard on the details was important to me. anyways, I hope you all like it!
story inspired by: “coming to my senses” by alina baraz
Throughout much of your life, you’d find yourself pondering why you were born the way you were. Not like everyone else. For the first 18 years, it had been a constant cycle of hating your own self because you didn’t have what you felt everyone except you had. Sight. You’d been night blind ever since you were born, and as the years passed on into your early teens, your vision slowly worsened. You’d developed photophobia, having become sensitive to light. You had no other choice but to adjust yourself to only being able to make out shadows and other perceptions of light, but you couldn’t fully see colors or shapes to their best ability, everything was just a blur.
And it wasn’t until your sophomore year of college that you’d finally come to accept yourself for who you really are. You made new friends, went to therapy, learned the Braille system, enrolled in O&M classes, attended support groups, and met others that shared the same difficulties as you. You were beyond grateful for your now best friend: Jimin Park, whom you met at one of the support group sessions you attended. Apparently, his mother suffered a similar circumstance like you. Except, she wasn’t born blind. But after a tragic accident, she lost her vision forever.
You and Jimin grew closer over the course of some months which turned into two years, and now you both are roommates, sharing an apartment together. You are beyond grateful to have someone like him who understands you. Despite his busy schedule, he tries to make time to spend with you. He was always so sweet. During most days, he'd check on you and would even take Marv for his daily walk. You would constantly reassure him that it’s not his problem to worry about but he simply brushes it off with his signature motto: “Hey, that’s what friends are for!”
All in all, the most important part of understanding yourself and accepting who you are was discovering your love for art. Painting gave you a purpose, a reason to believe that you exist for more than just being what the world labelled you as “blind” or “impaired.” It’s a gateway to escape from the reality of daily life, an outlet to express your own true self through a pure, raw form. You love everything there is to love of painting: The delicate aroma that emits from oil paint, sending you a wave of goosebumps. The silky, cold feel of acrylic when you dip your fingers into pools of paint to spread across a canvas. You coo at the sound your favorite paintbrush creates, when you paint in thick brush-strokes.
During your last year as an undergrad, you’d been given the opportunity to showcase your work at an art exhibit downtown, and you’d never been more proud of yourself for accomplishing goals you didn’t know you were capable of. But there were many people who passed through asking various questions like: You painted these? Who’s the artist that assisted you? How long did it take you to finish each piece? You’re really a painter? How old are you?
As much as you didn’t want to answer their indiscreet, biased concerns, you stood proudly and didn’t budge, instead conveying a strong sense of confidence, wanting to make a stand and not be ashamed of who you are. Even though parts of you wanted to break down and cry in a corner like you used to when you were a child, but you toughed it out because it isn’t worth it. After all, another part of you didn’t blame them.
If you had the blessing of being able to see, you would be curious too of a blind painter. Despite the numerous amount of persons roaming within the space, blabbing, walking, pointing, gesturing, and gathering, you feel a presence that is profound. Except, this particular individual isn’t talking or interacting with anyone else, instead, observing. Whoever that it might be, this person’s essence is powerful, causing your body to shiver.
“Hi,” you slip nervously. Praying that your instincts weren’t incorrect so that you wouldn’t look like a maniac talking to yourself. A few beats later, and you grow nervous after not receiving a response. You shake your head, cursing your being for making a fool out of your own self. You figured by now that you knew yourself and how your body reacts to certain aspects and situations, but this one moment shatters all the expectations you once held.
And suddenly a male’s voice startles you out of your thoughts,
“Hi! Sorry, I was just... So lost in your work. Like, taking a moment to really admire your style and appreciate the details. Wow.” You’re nearly speechless at this point, not able to believe the compliment you’d just received after standing for what felt like hours and taking the end of the stick from those assholes called humans. You suppose there are nice people out there like this man.
“I-I am honored, thank you. I am very glad that you like-”
“Like?” The man scoffs, the widest smile graces upon his face, showcasing his dimples. “I love your work! I myself am an art major, and I’ve never seen anyone of this age create such work! I’m so drawn to your use of thick-brush strokes, it creates such... texture! Kinda reminds me of-,”
“Van Gogh?” You interrupt, knowledgeable of what he’s implying.
“Exactly! Just like Van Gogh.” A moment of silence fell, and you first wondered if the man left. But you felt that constant energy still.
Although, it wasn’t just the compliments he showered you in that had your attention, but your heart fluttered at the tone and feel of his voice. Deep but smooth, smooth but husky, husky but not hard. He seemed perfectly balanced like: cookies and milk, peanut butter and jelly, yin and yang. He sounded like someone that belonged in one of those corny romance movies you always watch with your guide dog Marv. No, it didn’t just end there with the melody his vocal cords emanated.
“The name’s Namjoon,” the male introduces, his warm embrace coursing through your bloodstream when he gently grasps your hand to interlink with his in strength with one another. His proximity sends chills down your spine. The aroma of fresh linen fills your nostrils, and relaxes your muscles. Resulting in your lips to curl into a shy smile. His hand feels so.. soft and delicate. Quite contrary to what you assumed a man’s hand would feel like. You almost don’t want to let go of him, relishing in his tantalizing scent as it continues to linger within your sense of smell.
And that was just the beginning of something new.
As weeks perhaps months passed by, Namjoon became part of your daily agenda. He’d offered to help you run errands, and every Monday morning you both would go out for coffee. Throughout the week, he would spontaneously call you to check if you were doing okay. It would always end up with him dropping by with your fave take-out of 짜장면 (jjajangmyeon). You’d even help him with his studies, as you’ve mentioned to him countless times that it’s the least you could do, in return of his considerate mannerisms.
The both of you bonded very well, growing accustomed to each other. You couldn’t help the sudden warmth of your heart whenever you’d hear his voice, once you find yourself opening the front door of your loft. Just the sound of his deep, raspy, voice sends chills throughout your body — sometimes even straight through your core. Although you can’t help it. He just has that affect on you, causing your bones to tremble, and your body to suddenly burn of anxiousness whenever he’s around. And this doesn’t go unnoticed.
Namjoon admires how flustered you’d become once his presence to you is known. You curse yourself for not being able to take him in visually. Yet, you were grateful to have someone like him in your life because in the past months, you’d grown fond of him. His entire aura radiated in a way you never knew could be possible with anyone, and he’d always been a true gentleman, even when he didn’t have to be. There are times when he stuns you with his chivalrous actions — granted that you both haven’t made anything official yet, simply going with the flow and sticking together as friends should. However, you often question yourself if this is that element people always talk about feeling.
Love.
“So. What’s your ideal type? Like, someone you’d date.” You question, while seating across from Namjoon at your favorite Italian restaurant you’d managed to convince him of joining you. He hums in response to your question, as if he’s thinking.
“I think for me I’d want a woman that is understanding.” He fiddles with the straw placed in his drink, stirring the beverage around in a clockwise motion. You hear the ice clinking against his glass. “Someone who can keep me level-headed, you know?” You smile and nod in response. Oh, how you could listen to his voice everyday and never exhaust yourself.
“I tend to get... tunnel vision, if you’d say,” He adds with a shrug of his shoulders.
You reply, “So a woman that will hold you down, huh? I see.”
“Right,” He adds, an angelic smile paired with his dimples. “What about yourself? What’s your type?” You sigh softly, reminiscing on the times when you were younger and assumed life was all rainbows and unicorns.
“I want a man that is honest to me. I would never want him to feel he has to seek anyone else for anything. I want him to trust me, and be comfortable with me. He can be himself when he’s around me and not have to fake a persona.” Namjoon nods his head in agreement, astonished by your response. “So, loyalty and good communication.” You let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, but I feel like it’s too much to ask for.”
He crosses his arms, “I don’t think it is. I mean, how hard could that be? Just staying loyal and communicating with your partner?”
“I know, but unfortunately life isn’t just another one of those corny, romance movies that Marv and I spend watching on the weekends,” You respond with certainty. Namjoon felt a pang in his chest at your words. He wondered who could have hurt such a beautiful soul to have given you that perspective on love itself.
And it was at that moment, he was determined to make a change.
—
One night, Jimin arrived at the apartment you both shared. He carried some mail and a package that was sent to you specifically. The bedroom to your door was slightly ajar, and he helped himself in.
“Looks like you have a package from...” He pauses while examining the name.
“Jennifer?” You nod in response, remembering that your friend Jennie, from one of your classes, mentioned that you were “lacking” in life and that she was sending you something extra special in the mail as an early birthday gift, you suppose. Jimin places the package beside you and almost makes his way out until you halt him.
“Do you mind opening it for me and telling me what it is?” You inquire, fiddling with your fingers.
Jimin smiles in response, “Sure. I don’t mind.” He rips the package open and suddenly his mouth flies agape. You don’t miss the quiet gasp that escapes from him.
“What is it?” You ask curiously, “Is something wrong?” There’s a brief moment of silence, and though you aren’t able to notice, Jimin’s cheeks are now flushed with a rosy tint. He stumbles over his words and gradually slips, “I-it’s a um.. vibrator.”
You nervously run your palms across your thighs. How could she send such a thing when you never even used one before? Ugh, typical Jennie. You take a deep breath and reach out toward Jimin to feel him. He flinches a little, caught off guard by the egg-shaped obstacle he holds in the palm of his hand. He also noticed a small remote that’s attached to the object. Your hand trails to his face, lightly caressing it.
“Can you.. Help me use it? It’s just that I’ve never-” You pause, almost embarrassed that you’re even asking your own best friend to do this for you. Ugh, how much you hate yourself for being blind. Jimin takes a thick gulp, his throat suddenly gone dry. He had never seen you that way, but considering his busy schedule and sleepless nights, he needed a little excitement in his life. Even if it meant he had to help his best friend use her vibrator.
“I- Uh...” You curse yourself for even asking him to do such a thing, “Just, nevermind. It’s okay. You don’t-”
You’re cut off by Jimin grabbing your wrist.
“It’s okay. I want to. I’d love to help you. It’s what friends are for!” Although you can’t see the bright smile on his flushed face, you note that he sounds happy. Maybe a little too happy.
“I’ll be back. Just... relax yourself and lie down on the bed.” The warmth from Jimin’s body vanishes, while you're left in silence for a moment. You reach out to feel your bed, and gradually guide yourself to lie down as instructed by Jimin. Your room suddenly becoming more steaming hot than usual, a thin sheen of sweat threatens to approach across your forehead. Your fingers find their way to your duvet cover grasping them tightly, a small exhale leaves your lips as you try to relax yourself. Your grip on the material gradually loosening up, the hairs on your body raising gives indication that someone is nearby. That someone being Jimin of course.
“Okay, I’m back.” He reassures obviously. You nod as if responding.
“Just had to clean it, and I got some lube from my, uh... room,” He clears his throat awkwardly, and you nod again just going with the flow. Jimin places the vibrator and lube on your nightstand beside your bed, then saunters toward you laying down. He comfies himself by removing his shoes and crawling onto the bed, resting on his knees while examining your figure. He contemplates what he could do to help you.
“Hey.” You turn toward the direction of his voice from which you heard.
“Hm?” He stares down at you from his position and grabs your hand to press a kiss.
“Can I... Kiss you?” A sudden silence approaches that makes his nerves shake. “It’s just to help the mood. I have to get you worked up a little. It’ll be easier to use the vibrator that way.” How could you resist his sweet, low-pitchy voice? “Okay,” you respond easily. A smile creeps up on the elders lips. He leans down to press his lips onto yours. He smells of amber and burnt orange with a hint of mint, something that draws you in closer to him. He slips in between breaths, “I’ll guide you.”
His hands roams down your sides, and you naturally mold yourself to his touch, finding purchase onto his shoulders, gradually snaking your fingers through what you know is his hair. The silky, lengthy, onyx strands gracefully caressing the ridges of your fingertips. You’ll never forget the feeling, beyond delicate and suave, almost as if he has bird feathers for hair. Jimin eases his body onto yours, pressing you to lie down on the bed. His lips smooth out your own, gently gliding and pulling yours.
And he was right, it does help because you feel some type of tingly feeling you can’t quite describe, but suddenly the room feels much warmer than it did before, and you’re now breathing heavily, losing yourself in his embrace. Your chest heaves for air, any amount that could make its way into your lungs to offer some relief. Jimin gets the signal from you when your hands roam further down to push him in an abrupt matter suddenly. He pulls away, gasping for air and watching your figure for any signs that you may have changed your mind.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” You respond giving Jimin a half smile before continuing, “Thank you. You know... for doing this.”
Although you miss the way Jimin blushes and his heart flutters at your innocence, he takes your hand in his to plant a kiss.
“Of course! I mean- What kind of friend would I be to not help you use your vibrator, right?” You reach out for him to continue his previous actions, missing the feel of his lips on yours. He leans down on top of you and grinds his lower half onto your pelvic area, while encasing your lips with his juicy, plump ones. A small moan escapes from your inner-self, not being able to control the feels in this moment; he returns the gesture, a small groan slipping from him. He lifts your chin to press kisses along your jawline, dragging his tongue along your skin and stopping at your neck to suck the flesh there.
His hair becomes a playground for your fingers yet again, you admire the silky strands lacing between your fingers. You unexpectedly rut against his pelvic area just as he does, following his smooth rhythm. A rapid heat boils within you that you don’t often receive, and you’d wondered that obviously Jimin’s tactic was working. His nose caresses your neck as he continues to plant kisses, a tickling sensation causing you to chuckle slightly. Jimin pulls away smiling, his cheeks tinted a pink color and his eyes closing in a crescent moon-like shape.
“Are you okay?” He questions, while rubbing circles on your cheek with his thumb.
“Why do you keep asking me that, silly?” Your hand glides down your body, attempting to find the button of your jeans, you place a finger on it tapping it to signal Jimin. “I- I’m ready, Jimin.”
Before you could process everything, he’d unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them past your knees. You lifted up to help remove them completely, leaving you in your cotton-laced panties. You feel Jimin’s fingers trailing along your thighs and tugging the band of your undergarment.
“Is this okay?” He asks again for permission. You nod in reply, “Yes.”
You lift your hips up to aid in the removal of your panties; Jimin tosses them onto the other side of the bed. When his eyes land back on you, he takes a thick gulp, his member twitches at the sight of your legs splayed out and your bare pussy revealed to him. He gasps lowly, and you don’t miss it; the temperature in the room suddenly becoming too much for him. He loosens a button from his blouse, hoping that would cool him down.
With worry laced in your voice, “I-is there something wrong?” You question.
Jimin shakes his head, “NO!” He pauses, cursing himself for yelling like an idiot and making you flinch at how loud he’d responded. He continues, at a much lower volume, “Shit, I’m sorry. I- Uh- I mean, no you’re fine. I- I need to make sure you’re relaxed, okay? It’s really important.” His fingers gently massaging your thighs in an attempt to keep you calm. He lies flat on his tummy, his cock trapped between his trousers and your bed sheets, burning ache now approaching. He plants kisses along your inner thighs, small tickles tingle up your body, and you let out a soft chuckle. Jimin kisses the top of your mound, and his eyes meet your lady lips.
“You have such a pretty pussy,” Jimin coos while pressing kisses onto your outer lips. You blush at his comment and cover your face, a soft moan slipping from his actions. His hand trails up to pull your hand away.
“It’s okay. Don’t be shy.” Jimin’s soft, sweet voice bounces off the walls of your room. You comply and uncover your face, laying your hands down by your sides. What comes next has your toes curling, a feeling you’d never felt before, yet you were sure you’d want to feel this again sometime in the future, if not, everyday. It’s something warm and wet that slithers along your folds, leaving you speechless. What follows is a suction-like sound that repeats over and over again. Jimin has your lips between his own, sucking and massaging your folds with his tongue. Your fingers grasp the sheets below you, twisting and turning them in your hold. His plump lips kiss your folds, and his tongue darts out to lick your entire pussy in one, long, fat stripe. He points his tongue to precisely circle your now throbbing clit, then encases his lips around it.
“Ungh, Jimin!” Your fingers reach out to search for his head. When found, you tug onto his strands and moan out in pure pleasure as he continues to slide and smother his saliva all over your outer and inner lips. Your hips naturally move on their own, following his motions.
And then he pulls away.
You whimper as a result, needing more of what he’d been giving you, “Jimin,” You whine, while squirming to grasp his attention.
“Did you like that? When I eat your pussy?” A wave of chills shoots through you and you nod in a “yes” gesture.
You feel Jimin’s fingers gracing upon your clit, rubbing light circles as he continues, “I promise I’ll make you cum, okay?” You whimper again, not being able to form anymore words at the moment. Jimin guides your hand, placing your fingers onto his obvious bulge, that’s concealed behind his leather pants. You gasp at the flinching hump you feel, your hand running across the material.
“Feel how hard you make me?” Jimin asks with a smirk. You can’t help but blush, knowing that you’re under his gaze and that you’re the cause of his boner.
“I’m sorry,” You're not even sure what you’re apologizing for. Jimin giggles at you, “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s natural to be turned on this way. It’s what happens when you’re aroused, you know?”
You “Mmhmm,” him. Of course, you know the basics about sex. It’s high school education, really. But, you never had sex, neither penetrative or oral. That is, until now. Jimin steps away off the bed to grab your toy. He opens the bottle of lube, preparing the vibrator to ensure it’s coated nicely.
But the words that come out of your mouth makes his lips part dramatically.
“Can I feel you?” You ask, curiosity suddenly filling your thoughts. As if Jimin hadn’t heard you, he responds with, “Hm?”
You reiterate, “Can I feel you? I want to feel your-” You pause, internally cringing at yourself for asking, “Dick. Can I touch your dick?” Jimin swallows hard.
“Yes, please.” He begs, removing the button of his trousers and pulling the zipper down, following his briefs. His cock springs up, rock hard and the tip glistens with precum. He re-positions himself in between your legs.
“I’m gonna put the vibrator in you now. So, let me know if it’s too much for you, yeah?” You nod in reply, with fists clenching at your sides. His hand falls upon yours, rubbing circles onto them to ease your tense form.
“Just relax, okay?” His sweet voice reassures as he lays flat on his tummy and meets eye-level with your heat. He licks one stripe up your folds. He fumbles with the vibrator and presses the button on the remote, the lowest setting so far. You hear a vibrating noise down below, and you know it’s time. Your walls clench at the sound.
Jimin eases the egg-shaped item on top of your folds, rubbing gently across your wet lips, and it already feels so damn good. Your hips buck as a way to keep him moving, and he follows through, running the vibrator up further and gliding across your clit. You hear another click and the toy grows louder and feels a tad bit more powerful.
“Oh my God... Right there!” You warn him, “Don’t m-move, oh!” The pleasure you felt was indescribable, tingles exploded throughout your entire body. Your head falls back onto the pillow, being wrapped up in the sentiment the vibrations caused your body to feel. You feel the egg moving further south and prodding at your entrance. Jimin drops a line of his warm saliva and eases the toy further in, finally reaching inside your vagina as your walls clench. He hadn’t even given you time to adjust before he wrapped his lips around your clit, wasting no time in sucking his life away.
Click.
The vibrator now being set at it’s highest setting, and you nearly screamed at how amazing the vibrations felt paired with Jimin’s warm, wet tongue lapping and sucking at your most sensitive body part. Your toes curl, and you let out a moan you’re sure the neighbors could hear. As if it wasn’t enough, Jimin begins to hum against your core, another added sensation to what you’re already feeling.
“Oh, fuck! Jimin!” Your back arches off the bed, and you squirm. Jimin locks his fingers onto your hips to contain your figure on the bed. Your fingers grasp the sheets, twisting and turning them.
“I-I- feel something, it’s-” You fail to finish your sentence as an unfamiliar tightness approaches deep within, where your core and tummy meets. Like a rubberband that’s ready to just pop. Jimin hums louder, not having let up on your clit yet, his own hips rutting against the bed to ease the aching tension between his legs. He pulls away for a second to spill, “You’re about to have an orgasm, totally normal.” He dives his tongue back in, this time using the muscle to flick your bud back and forth. His soft lips wrap around you again, sucking onto you for dear life.
Click.
You didn’t know there was another setting, and part of you was thankful there was. You thought maybe this was the highest setting. Your walls thanking Jimin and the toy for so much pleasure that you felt your legs shaking, and body beginning to quake.
“Fuck!” You screech, with an arched back and suddenly you’d lost all control over your body as you trembled furiously all over. Squeals and cries left your lips — that tight feeling having finally snapped. Jimin pulls away and gazes at your form, relishing in the sight of your fucked out state, his cock pulses at your quivering body. You pull the vibrator out of you, with shaky legs, tossing the toy somewhere on the other side of the bed.
“Holy shit,” You say with a panting breath. Jimin grasps your hand, reaching toward his member. You gasp as your fingers wrap around his throbbing, hard cock that jumps from your light touch. You hear Jimin hissing when he thrusts his hips forward, wanting to relieve the built up tension within his groin.
“Oh, feels so good.” He moans when your palm slides along his shaft, and you feel a liquid spilling onto your fingers — Jimin having squirted some lubricant onto his shaft. It’s warm, and now he feels super slick. He’s so hard, almost like the handle part of the paintbrushes you use. Your tongue slips out, in concentration of your motions as you twist and turn your wrist, loving the sounds that Jimin is making from your favor.
He can’t help but wonder how it would feel to be inside of you, making you scream his name. He’s not sure what came over him to agree with helping you, but he’d been stressed beyond comprehension. And he needed this. He needed you. So, to have your hands on him satisfying him in ways he needed more than anything, caused butterflies in his stomach. Your hands felt like they belonged there, and he didn’t want them to leave. He needed you and only to himself.
Jimin pants rapidly, his toned thighs stiffen up and he cries out in euphoria, his head now thrown back and body shuddering as he chokes out to say something but can’t. His groin tightens, and as you continue to pump his member, out of the blue, a warm, something scatters along your face, dripping down your hand. Your own instincts tell you to taste said substance, and so you do. And it’s salty with a bitter aftertaste, a somewhat thick consistency, almost like the jelly you spread on your toast in the morning. You hear his breathing subsiding, after taking long and exhausting breaths.
“Holy shit,” Jimin falls to your side and sighs deeply.
“Um, thank you. Jimin.” You whisper, somewhat ashamed of what just occurred. You suppose it’s the dragged out years of not having any experience that persuaded you to jerk Jimin off. Althought you can’t really pinpoint the feeling, but you know that something just feels different. A deafening silence falls within the space, and you’d nearly forgotten that Jimin’s jizz still remains on your face.
“I should probably go wash my face,” You break the silence, and Jimin follows suit, having agreed.
“Y-yeah, totally. I should go wash up.” After Jimin gathers his belongings to depart from your room, you still lie there in bed. You can’t help but think of how it would feel to do this with the one man you knew had your heart.
—
Namjoon decided to pay you a visit — the sound of his keys toying with the lock of your apartment door rattles within the space. And yes, you’d given him a spare key ever since he insisted that he deserved one because of his concern for you and your safety, even after hours of you attempting to convince him that you’re a fine, independent woman that doesn’t need a man to take care of her (but he still wasn’t having it so here you are). Yet one of the countless amounts of reasons why you’re grateful for his being. He strides in along with takeout of shrimp gyoza for lunch today. Of course, he’d chosen the pork ones since he isn’t a fan of seafood.
“Hey buddy, you missed me? Who’s a good boy?” Namjoon exclaims, whilst ruffling the silky strands of Marv’s mane.
That familiar shiver of goosebumps surges throughout you, the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand up whenever he’s around. This was your body’s way of informing you of his presence. A coy smile spreads across your lips, as you feel Namjoon drawing closer to you.
“Hi,” you greet with a soft tone that’s much like music to his ears.
His cheeky dimple appears at the sound of your voice. He sits beside you on the sofa, and his hand instantly meets yours.
He’s... warm. Like the sun when you take Marv for a walk.
He’s soft. Like the cotton linen sheets on your bed and the feather pillow you sleep on every night.
He’s comforting. Like your daily hot tea (with a splash of honey) moment in the morning during sunrise.
You almost slip how much you adore him and almost beg for his presence to be continuous, but you hold back not wanting to sound so desperate. If only he knew how you truly felt about him. How you adored all that you could hear, feel, and smell about him. He’d confided in you just as you have. Throughout the months, you’d learned all that there is to know about him. Over the years being an art student, he’d taken a trip abroad to Italy; you love the way he spoke with such passion. He’d confessed to you how much he enjoyed the culture there. How the country was so beautiful, and the art was magnificent. He’d even reassured you that you’d also love it, if not more than him. Because as he’d say to you, it’s not about what you see, it’s about what you feel. However, the only sense you had left to try out on Namjoon was taste. You’d wondered what he tastes like. Do all men taste the same? Does he taste different from Jimin?
The never-ending pondering that consumed you about whether or not his feelings were reciprocated always found its way into your mind, yet you hold your composure and promise yourself that maybe someday by a miracle things will happen in your favor. Almost as if he could read your mind he asks, “How are you feeling?” in that deep voice that’s like a melody to your ears.
“Even better now that you’re here.” Namjoon blushes at your quirky act of flirting with him, oh how you wished you could see his expression.
But you feel his grip on your hand tighten and his thumb caress the back of your hand in a circular motion, sending a familiar tingly sensation straight to your core.
“I’m glad that I can be of good to you.” You hum in response, cheeks suddenly aching from how hard you’re blushing. Even if Namjoon doesn’t realize your crush for him, you’re sure that your geeky smile and tight cheeks give it away. But throughout the months you’ve gotten the chance to know him, you tried deliberately hard to paint a picture of him in your mind. Thinking of how his hair feels, the texture of his strands.
What color is it? What color is he? Does his color exist within your copious amounts of paint stored away in your art studio? Is he a cool or warm color? If you were to work your magic on a canvas, what would you use: Acrylic, oil, or watercolor? Maybe thick brush-strokes? What about his eyes? What color are they? What about the shape?
A million different questions would run through your mind in regards to his appearance. So you have to know. At least knowing is better than not knowing at all, right? You attempt to break the silence, probing Namjoon with a question you’d been dying to ask since you’ve met him.
“Can I... feel you?”
His eyes widen and lips part slightly. He notices your grip on his hand tightens. For a moment you’d thought that maybe it wasn’t a good idea, given that he didn’t respond quickly. But it was more so because he was shocked. You’d never asked him of such before, and he would have loved for you to touch him, even more in other ways he was sure you weren’t prepared for yet.
“Sorry, it just helps with my senses. I am usually comfortable with tangibility.” You add, feeling somewhat awkward. He swallows a thick gulp and clears his throat, attempting to soothe the dryness that’s overcome.
“Of course, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. You can touch me.” He remains seated beside you, spreading his legs open and awaiting your hands to roam over his body as you please. He quickly removes his cap that he was wearing, ruffling his caramel-colored strands, startling you for a moment as your hand slipped from his.
“Sorry, just took my hat off. Uh.. continue as you’d like.” He slips nervously, his palms resting on his bare thighs that show, courtesy of his grey sweatshorts.
Taking a deep breath, you gradually work your hand up, grazing against his left hand and caressing his fingers. You use your right hand to move up his arm and grasp his bicep, next trailing upwards and slowly inching forward onto his left pec, gripping it with a slight pressure. You don’t miss the way Namjoon’s breathe hitches when you do so.
“I’m so sorry... Does that hurt?” You ask while rubbing the area in a soothing circular motion. He takes a gulp, his forehead glistening with a faint sheen of perspiration. “No, i-it’s okay.”
You feel his chest rising as he takes a deep breathe. In all honesty, he loved the act of you exploring his body. It was something about the way you were so curious that made him feel tingly inside. The way your hands roamed his body created a certain pressure within his groin, that he wasn’t able to control. Next, you find your way up to his neck softly massaging and trailing up towards his jawline. You can feel how sharp and defined his facial structure is, your fingertips sensitive to the touch. You silently hum; Namjoon notices how your lips part and eyebrows furrow as you’re in concentration on what you’re feeling. Your hands are warm, yet somehow he still manages to have goosebumps paired with sweat glistening onto his skin, a weird combo, like cold sweat.
Another rush of chills courses itself throughout his body as the hand you still have placed on his fingers moves towards his upper thigh. You definitely will never forget the delightful sound that left his lips when your hand rested itself on top of an area that he seemed to react quickly to. A sudden pang in your core emerges from said sound. You feel Namjoon shift in his seat. His hand placed on top of yours as he slips, “Not there.” You cock your head to the side, somewhat confused. He hadn’t sounded like he was in pain. Of course, you know what people sound like when they’re hurting. So why wouldn’t he let you touch him there?
“I’m sorry,” you continue as your hand gently caresses the area he asked you not to touch. “Did I do something wrong?”
He shakes his head at you, and nearly chokes out his words. His mind almost slipping that you couldn’t see so he responds, “Of course not! No. I’m sorry I just.. it’s a sensitive spot. Very sensitive.”
You were curious, trying to understand what he meant exactly. You used the same hand to trail upward, feeling the material, to what you assume is his shirt of cotton fabric, between your fingers. And suddenly you understood why. You could feel his abdominal muscles, and common sense told you that traveling further down south you had landed on his member. It was firm. And you could have sworn you felt it move on its own, but you don’t comment on it. Your cheeks instantly raise in temperature, making you perspire just a little.
The sound of someone unlocking the front door startles you and Namjoon, your hands drawing away from his body quickly. He hisses at the missing warmth of your embrace, all while internally pissed at who could be interrupting this moment of you two together. The both of you peer up from the sofa to greet said intruder.
“Good aftern-”
You automatically make out the sound of his voice, knowing it’s Jimin. You light up instantly, excited that you’ve finally heard from him after some time. The last you spoke with him, he’d mentioned that he had some important project to wrap up for his film class that apparently caused for his final grade. And then you realize it grows silent. Very silent. You nearly forgot that Jimin and Namjoon have never met before, courtesy of Jimin’s super busy schedule and filming ventures. You instantly rise to your feet, and attempt to clear the air which had become very thick.
“Namjoon this is Jimin, my roommate.” You reassure, Namjoon stands on his feet and nods, “Jimin, this is my friend Namjoon. He’s been coming around for awhile. I’m glad that you two can finally meet.”
Jealousy fills Jimin’s being like nothing has before. He wanted to spend more time with you, craved it actually. Especially after the other night he helped you with your vibrator. Something catches Jimin’s eyes — the noticeable bulge in Namjoon’s shorts. At this moment, some twisted part of him was beyond relieved to know you couldn’t see, due to the cold expression on his face. Namjoon notices and quickly becomes uneasy, obviously aware of the tension in the room.
The silence that followed instantly made your stomach drop, and before you could attempt again to lift the energy in the room, Namjoon breaks the awkward silence.
“I should probably get going.” He slips back on his cap. Your face immediately contorts into a frown, and your arms reach out to stop Namjoon from leaving.
“But you just came.” You whine, in hopes that’ll convince him to stay.
“It’s okay, I definitely don’t want to-” Namjoon pauses, his jaw clenches, as he takes a look at Jimin who stands nearby eyeing the two of you with his arms crossed. “Impose.” You grasp Namjoon’s arm in an attempt to hold onto him.
“Hug?” You ask with a meek expression, and so he wraps his arms around your body, engulfing you within him for a moment. The familiar scent of fresh linen fills your nostrils. You wish you could hold onto him forever. As he pulls away, your heart drops rapidly. No, you didn’t want to let go — ever. His voice causes your skin to cool down, not even realizing you’d become so warm all of a sudden.
“I’ll see you around. Thank you very much for having me.”
You smile shyly in response, with your head dipped low. The sound of the front door clicking, and the locks being fiddled with indicates Namjoon’s departure. The silence throughout the space bothering you slightly, and it’d probably be worse had it not been for Jimin’s presence, the faint sound of him simply being. You hear his signature, chelsea boots thumping against the laminate flooring.
“Did you- say something to Namjoon?” You ask, feeling an odd shift of mood within the atmosphere. It was hurtful enough that Namjoon left, your instincts only curious. You hear Jimin scoff, and you admit to yourself that you don’t like that sound.
“Really?” He asks with a hint of annoyance in his tone. He continues,
“I thought you could hear perfectly fine!” He emphasizes the word hear,and that in itself was enough for you to know exactly what he was implying. A sudden shot to your heart causes your mouth to fly agape. Jimin notices your expression and instantly regrets his remark, jealousy having drowned out his entire consciousness. You place your index and middle finger in your mouth, a loud whistle escaping your esophagus. The paddling of Marv’s paws drawing closer to you, indicates that he’s nearby and ready at your beck and call.
“I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.” You ignore Jimin’s plea, and as you begin to head straight for the door with Marv’s help, Jimin grabs your wrist to turn you toward him. Marv barks at the sudden feel of you being pulled, and you fight Jimin back, wanting nothing more than to simply run away and never look back.
“No!” You yelp, while struggling to relieve yourself from Jimin’s hold.
“Please!” He grabs both of your wrists to stop you, you find yourself desperately shaking back and forth to release from his grip but fail when your back suddenly hits the soft cushion of the living room couch. Jimin towers above you, chest heaving for a moment.
“Please stay! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me.” You say nothing, just lying there with emotional pain flooding throughout you. You miss Namjoon. His voice, his aroma, his skin, just his profound presence, vibe, spirit. Everything about him you can’t see, you adore. You want to feel him again, yet you dream of what his lips would feel like against yours. Do all men’s lips feel like Jimin’s? Or are they different? Jimin weakens at the sight of a tear falling down your cheek. He bends down to plant a kiss on your cheek, and you tremble. You don’t want Jimin. You think it was sweet of him to help you, but your heart is not with him. It’s with Namjoon.
Your bluetooth speaker resonates the voice of Rosemary Clooney, and your fingers place themselves on your jean-covered knees. Ever since Jimin’s insult, everything between the two of you had changed. More so, you’d like to think that ever since you’d asked him to help you with your vibrator was when things changed, and how he’d reacted towards Namjoon was also proof. You’d confided into, Jennie, and she insisted you come move in with her until you find a new place. Because, well, she demanded that you should live on your own rather than being with Jimin.
But in some crazy way, you felt deep down that he hadn’t meant those words. You were convinced that maybe, just maybe he’d been a tad too stressed. You’d heard Jimin ramble constantly about the film sets he’d dayplay on. He was constantly yelled at about doing his job the correct way and not over-stepping boundaries. So maybe, his boss took too much anger out on him and in return, Jimin reciprocated that anger on others. Just maybe that was the case.
Or maybe he’d been pulled and tugged too much on set (not including whatever stresses he held onto due to his projects or exams for his film class) that it was finally his breaking point. Overall, you tried to brush it off, but it was the first time a friend had spoken to you in that context, and not knowing how to take it, you were hurt. Some part of you still is; and Jimin was also devastated. He’d begged you, pleaded for you not to leave. It ended up with Jennie arriving at your place and giving him a piece of her mind, resulting in you being snatched away by your only female friend.
And then, Namjoon sent you an audio text message saying that he wanted to see you. And according to Alexa, it had been exactly three weeks since he was within your vicinity. The anticipation to see him streamed through you like no other. You sit yourself on the stool in your art studio, soaking in the fresh smell of acrylic paint that’s seeped onto your canvas. You’d cracked the window open earlier slightly — faint sounds of birds chirping and car horns in the distance, the slight breeze aiding in the drying process of the art you're creating.
Namjoon had anticipated your response; he missed you, more than you could think. But after the encounter with your roommate, he felt it was best to distance himself for awhile. He didn’t want to impose, and he could obviously tell there was some sort of unspoken tension between the two of you. At least, that’s the vibe he’d received from Jimin specifically.
Pulled from your thoughts, you felt an unspeakable pull in the atmosphere, the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up. Your body told you that he is finally here. The slight ruffle of his clothing that follows soon after, takes part in the indication of his arrival. Namjoon wished you could see yourself the way he sees you. The sight of your being, hair in its natural state, paint-stained clothing, fingers tainted with acrylic paint, and that breathtaking smile of yours that you couldn’t fight off — it was everything he never knew he needed in life.
His smile returns yours, dimples on display. His heart feels full at this moment, it always does when he’s around you, but it was something different — taking you in this way. Come to think of it, he’d never seen you at work before. His eyes follow toward the art on your canvas, and from what he sees, you’ve painted a horizon. The mix of what seems like hundreds of colors blended so well, and it was something he knew he could lose his gaze into forever. Simple, but beautiful.
And then the words slip from you like a waterfall.
“This is what I feel-” You pause, gathering up the correct syllables to emphasize what you’d like to say once and for all, “When I’m with you.” You stay seated on your stool, your head dipped low and feeling somewhat flustered. You aren’t sure how he’d react, but deep down you know Namjoon is a gentleman; part of you hoping he likes the piece.
And he does, he loves it. He loves it because it’s him. Because you feel for him. Because you’d thought of him enough to actually create something of him in your studio, and he knows just how passionate you are about painting. He realizes you must have deep feelings for him, and it’s intriguing. You’re intriguing, so sweet. When you touched his body merely weeks ago, he’d never knew how much he desired just the simplest touch.
As the weeks had passed by, he dreamt of your touch again — better yet, he craved it. He wanted, needed, and desired to have your touch. When your fingertips met his golden, supple skin, he’d felt a rush straight down below and a flutter to his heart. It felt beyond words, and he wants you. He needs you. And so he gave in, not being able to hold out any longer because he couldn’t wait to see you. Therefore, at this very moment, he couldn’t help the melting warmth of his heart. He felt full. Full of love.
He placed his hand on your shoulder, and it was the first time he actually touched you. Your hand found its path on top of his, and his eyes naturally shut at the feeling. Before you could respond, you felt the warmth of his breath reaching your face. And it felt like it was getting closer.
And closer.
Until suddenly his lips pressed against your own. You felt every ridge, flake, and dip of his lips that were unbelievably plump, juicy, and you couldn’t think for just a moment — too entranced in the nostalgia of finally having Namjoon to yourself in peace. No interruptions, no Jimin, no outside world, just you and him. Even Marv was silent, to what you’d assumed he was in the corner somewhere taking a nap. You could no longer hear the music in the background, having completely drowned out everything other than you and Namjoon. His lips tasted of a cool, peppermint flavor, as if he’d popped a mint before arriving at your art studio. Your hands work on their own accord, reaching out for him until they land onto his arms.
You grasp ahold of him, admiring how fit and thick his arms are. He's so healthy; nearly causing you to turn into mush on the spot. His hands ease their way down your sides, pulling you up from your seated position and now constraining you against his broad chest, his lips playing a game of tug-of-war with yours. You lose yourself in the familiar, fresh, linen scent of his being, having no knowledge of any other aroma that makes your heart and core flutter. You can’t help the moan that naturally falls from you, muffled by his passionate kisses, but felt through the vibration of your vocal cords — sending a surge of arousal straight to Namjoon’s member.
He lets his body take control, having a mind of it own. He couldn’t fight it, and he didn’t want to. He needed every part, piece, and aspect of you; and he didn’t want to let go. With lips still locking each others, the need to breathe approaches, but you too don’t want to stop. You want to kiss him forever, hug him forever, feel him forever, be with him forever. Kissing Namjoon feels like painting; it feels like home.
Not even kissing Jimin could exceed the feeling you have when kissing Namjoon. It was everything; he was everything and still is. He gently runs his palms along your back, caressing you like the delicate form you are. And by the second, he’d broken the kiss. His lips pull apart from you, swollen, wet and rosy. His breath hitching as he pants — an attempt to re-gain his normal breathing pattern. Within a swift, you feel his arms around your waist again, lifting you up.
Your legs naturally wrap around his torso, sending yet another flutter to his heart at the way you giggle towards his embrace. With stained fingers, you wrapped around his neck, keeping a leverage and holding onto him for dear life. Namjoon bends down and gently places you down on the newspaper-covered, laminate flooring of the studio, drips of paint scattering the space. Your back pressed against the hard surface, as Namjoon hovers above you, planting warm, wet kisses onto your cheek following down to your jawline.
His heartbeat races, too caught up in the moment. He was ready, and there was nothing that could stop him from being all over you. His lips lead their own way down your neck, sucking and licking the flesh there — a familiar tingly sensation resides within your core. You let out a small whimper, enjoying the feeling, never wanting it to end. He continues to make love to your neck, leaving a few love bites behind — being sure to claim what he wants to be his.
“You have no idea,” He slips in between kisses, “How long I’ve been waiting to do this.” You moan in reply, snaking your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. Your cheeks naturally growing warmer at his confession. He trails along your jawline again, dragging his lips across your cheek and accidentally pecks your teeth, due to your uncontrollable smile. His nose scrunches up at the sudden slip.
“I never thought you’d make a move on me,” He stops his motions, his fingers tracing along the shape of your face. He’s quiet for a moment, simply admiring your features and taking you fully in, being in this position. He quirks up a small grin, cherishing your sweet, innocent, vibe that radiates upon him — melting his heart into a puddle of something warm. You can feel him breathing, his warm breath fanning your face and sending a rush of chills throughout your body.
“And I never thought I’d meet the most beautiful woman on the planet, while discovering my love for art.”
And then his lips smash yours before you could muster up a response. His kisses ooze of passion and love, and this time he travels down further, caressing your body with every chance given to him. His lips meeting the dried smears and globs of paint on your shirt. His fingers pull at the hem, lightly tugging upwards.
“I-is this also your first time?” He chimes with shaky fingers, having become a bit nervous. You nod your head in reply.
“Having sex? Yes. Oral, no.” He nods in response, and then his words register again in your head. “Wait, you’re a virgin?” You question in suspicion. He lets out a small chuckle, his cheeks pulled tight — courtesy of his blushing.
“Yeah, I know.. It’s unheard of right? Well, the most I’ve done was get a handjob,” He says with a slight hint of confidence. You slip out an “Oh,” and in some way you’re grateful that he’s not as experienced just like you. Only calls for the moment to be extra special, exploring each others’ newfound desires. “Well, lucky for you” you add.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He coos, with a smirk. Your fingers fall from his strands to caress his cheeks.
“Because I know of someone that would love to have sex with you- A lot,” You reveal, with not an ounce of shame. Namjoon’s dick twitches at your words — the simple thought of having regular sex with you does something to him. Whenever you’re with him, you let yourself go.
With that, he trails his body down to have his lips meet your tummy. His gesture causes a tickle within you, and you giggle at the sentiment. His tongue darts out first, followed by his plush lips pressing along the flesh. He moves up further, trailing kisses along your upper abdomen as his fingers pull the hem of your shirt. He tugs it upwards and you help in removing it, having lifted up your form to toss the garment somewhere within the perimeter. When his eyes meet your chest decorated with your bra, his mouth flies agape.
“Wow,” was all he could say. And you instantly blush under his gaze. Even though you’d practically shown your once, close friend your vagina, but this was different.
It’s Namjoon.
His tongue darts out, glazing his bottom lip. He presses a small peck onto your lips, and his hands trail along the curves of your body, leading up to your breasts. He gives a gentle squeeze, causing a shuddering breath to emit from you. Your full breasts sit up perfectly, and he relishes in the sight of his large palms cupping them. More moans spill from you, unable to control your need for his touch.
“Please, Namjoon.” You whine, needing to actually feel him. He caresses your covered tits some more, and traces his lips along your chest, smoothing down to the area between your breasts. He groans at the faint vanilla and gilded amber scent of your being, thanks to your fave perfume from Bath and Body Works. He tugs the strands of your bra down, indicating his want to remove the material.
Your back arches up and he instantly unsnaps your bra, flinging the garment within the distance. He fondles with the button and zipper of your jeans, and you lift your hips up for him to tug them down and off completely. You lie back down, while he tosses your jeans away. And when he looks back at you, he freezes on the spot. His gaze landing on you, he nearly could keel over and die at the vision of your body half-naked and simply there for him. And only him. His cock pulses again, a sudden pressure growing within his member.
“Fuck,” He adds while palming the bulge that’s now formed in his sweats. You suddenly grow embarrassed, your fully naked body presented to him. A warm sensation smothers your cheeks, and you hurriedly cover your bare upper form, wrapping your arms around yourself. Namjoon doesn’t miss this.
“Hey, you don’t have to be shy.” His hands reach out to you, caressing your cheeks. “I want to see you. You’re beautiful.”
You let out a small sigh and nod, “Okay.” He slowly lifts your arms away from you concealing yourself; and it’s like your breasts are magnets, tempting his hands to draw closer.
Then, finally.
His large palms, cover both of your tits entirely. His fingers gripping the flesh delicately as a shuddering moan manages to spill from your lips.
His hands. So warm, so comforting, so Namjoon.
He massages them with such delicacy and care, his eyes shut closed — concentrating on your soft tissue, soft moans slipping from him. His cock continues to throb within his trousers. He softly caresses and leans down to lick your areola, leaving behind a trail of his saliva. The tip of his tongue stimulates your nipple, and his lips wrap around the bud, sucking feverishly. Your hips instinctively buck up along his lower half, a familiar boiling heat pooling within your core. He repeats his motions with your other breast, leaving behind wet kisses along your upper half and moaning against your skin. Soft whimpers and calls of his name echo through the studio.
“Namjoon?” You plead with desperation laced in your voice. “Hm?” He responds with your nipple in his mouth, his tongue gliding along the bud.
“Joon,” You say with open arms, reaching out down to lightly graze your fingers along his shoulders. “Want to feel you.” He pulls away from his sucking session and pecks your lips. He sits up to remove his shirt, revealing his bare, broad chest. He grasps your hand, and places it on his torso. He shivers at your warm touch, and you let out a soft sigh. Both of your hands trail along his abdomen, feeling his soft, plush skin. He’s so healthy and feels amazing under your fingertips. He hums at your gestures, a small smile quirking upon his face.
Then suddenly, your hands find their path down further, and you pull at the waistband of his sweats. He’s thrown off by your sudden force, forcing a chuckle from him.
“Woah, looks like someone is ready?” He coos, while you move further south, and you feel a hump. You apply more pressure, gently massaging and you feel it move. You break out in a coy smile, knowing it’s Namjoon’s dick. His breath hitches and he hisses, rutting his hips against your palms. He needs a release, and he’s more than ready at this moment.
“Please, Joon.” You beg again, squirming yourself to get his attention even though his eyes are focused only on you. He smirks at your need for him, knowing you’re just as needy for him as he is for you. He pulls away to remove his sweats following his briefs. His cock springs up, erect and oozing of precum. He kneels back down and spreads your legs wide.
“Not before I have a taste first,” He laces his arms around your legs, dragging you forward, now eye level with your pussy. Although Namjoon was inexperienced, the countless amounts of times he’d watched porn and jerked off in his room, he knew for sure it was the education he needed. He wastes no time, his tongue licks a long stripe from your lips to your clit. diving straight onto your drenched folds.
Your hands graze along the newspaper below you, a way to respond to the pleasure you’re receiving. Your heat throbs of arousal, as his tongue glides along your pussy lips, lapping at the folds — his nose buried deep and brushing along your clit. He engulfs himself in the aroma of your womanhood.
“Please, Namjoon-” You buck your hips toward his mouth, fucking his face back. He follows your gesture, rutting against the newspapers, an attempt to aid the pressure in his aching, stiff cock. He moans into your core, sending a vibration from within the deep pits of your tummy. He pulls away from your folds and lewdly spits on your pussy. Your walls throb in response, welcoming his saliva within you.
His tongue darts out and he continuously licks a long stripe up and down, his spit coating your already soaked heat. Your hips move along the rhythm of his tongue, your fingers now grasping the strands of his hair. You feel warm, you’re body now warning you of how hot and horny you really are.
“Oh, Joon! F-feels so good,” You moan in pure bliss. His obscene sucking, slurping, and spitting noises cause an inexplicable nostalgia. Your orgasm nearly on the brink of impending. His fingers trail along your inner thighs as he continues eating you out like you’re his last meal. He kisses your exposed clit, and licks circles into the bud, your legs jerk in reply. His lips wrap around you, sucking in such a way that you’re not able to take anymore.
And you explode.
Your orgasm comes crashing down in a powerful wave, your nails graze along the newspapers below you and your legs shake tremendously and face contorts with an expression drowned by utter bliss, back arching off the ground and thighs trembling. You call out Namjoon’s name as if it’s all you know. He growls into your pussy, shaking his head back and forth, sucking the life out of you.
You swear you hear him say “I want to eat your pretty pussy for the rest of my life. I don’t want to ever stop.” Your body continues shaking and your legs reluctantly close around his head, not being able to take the over-stimulation — your orgasm having already passed and gradually riding itself out with Namjoon still between your legs.
“O-okay, that’s- e-enough!” You yelp with a trembling figure.
Finally.
He pulls off of you, wiping away your wetness from his chin with the back of his hand. He stills for a moment, gripping his member and pumping softly at the sight of you shivering. He lets out a sigh of relief, as if he’s satisfied of his ministrations. His baritone voice resonates within the space, faintly out of breath, “I’ve waited so long for this.” A burst of glee flows through you, and you’re convinced you won’t be able to get enough of him. Because he’s all you want, and everything you never knew you needed.
“Please, Namjoon. I need you inside of me.” His heart thumps with love and desire and everything good that you make him feel. His fingers meet the slit of his tip, using his precum as a base to coat his shaft, an attempt to lubricate himself. He sets himself between your legs and grips his length to run along your sensitive folds. The tip of his cock brushes against your clit, and your heat clenches in response. Your wet smothers his shaft, making his member slick with nothing but you.
Namjoon taps your lips with the head of his member and eases himself inside of you, the head of his cock stretching your entrance. Your fingers reach out and land onto the tops of his thighs, your nails dragging along them. He pushes further in and the stretch burns slightly, but then in a few moments it molds into an unanticipated sensation that causes a surge of a tingly feeling to overtake your core. The stretch of his cock turns into something magnificent. Namjoon buries himself to the hilt, his pelvic bone now pressed against your hips. You can’t help but gasp at the feel of him, your nails now digging into his flesh.
“Oh, wow..” You moan while arching your back. You’re so full and stuffed of him, and you can’t place another feeling in the world that you’d rather feel for the rest of your life. Namjoon cries of pure pleasure, his lips parted and eyebrows furrowed due to your wet walls inviting him in completely. His own hand could never satisfy him enough or give him this feeling he has when he’s inside of you. He lowers himself and lands on top of you, caging you into his embrace.
“I love you-” He stutters, your walls clenching around him tightly. “I love you so much,” His fingers trace shapes onto your cheek as his hips thrust up into you, ramming his cock into your walls repeatedly — the squelching noise like music to his ears.
“You’re so warm and wet for me, I don’t ever want to stop. I want to be inside you forever, you know that?” Your moans now uncontrollable, all you can help to do is nod.
“Talk to me-” Namjoon looks down to witness his cock disappearing in and out of you, his hips pounding in a deep, slow stroking pattern. He looks up at you again.
“Tell me you want this too? Don’t you like how deep I am inside of you? Damn, I love how amazing you feel. So fucking amazing.” Your fingers trail along his back, holding onto him as picks up the pace, granting you strokes so deep that you jerk upwards from the force, your breasts pressed and jiggling against his bare chest. Perspiration now binding both of your bodies together, and you can’t help the squeals that fall from you.
“Yes! I love it, Joon. I-” You’re cut off by the feeling of his fingers pressing upon your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in circles with so much pressure. Your mouth flies agape, as Namjoon hits that right spot within your walls, and everything hits you like a wave yet again.
“Namjoon!”
He hums in reply, treasuring how you writhe underneath him, “That’s it, beautiful. Keep cumming for me." Your nails dig and graze along his back, that you’re sure would leave a trail of your markings behind. Your walls grip his length mimicking a vice-like grip, and Namjoon’s hips shudder, not being able to process how you could have become much tighter than before. Your back arches off of the ground, and your legs shake violently. But then you feel something new.
“S-something, is coming. Oh no. Why do I feel like I have to pee?” You ask with confusion. Namjoon eyes you in shock, of course, he’d seen this many times before in the countless amounts of porn videos he’d watched over the span of 10+ years.
“You’re a squirter, holy shit.” He takes heed and pulls himself out of you. “It’s okay, just relax and push, just like when you pee.” You nod in reply. Namjoon licks his index and middle finger and finds your sensitive clit, rubbing circles furiously. Squirts of your pussy juice sprinkle Namjoon’s arm, abdomen, and soak the papers under you both.
Namjoon uses his other hand to pump himself “Fuck, I’m going to cum.”
“Cum inside of me, please,” You plead with a shivering form. He dives back in, shoving his length inside of you, causing you to whimper. His breath quickens, groin tightens up, and cock twitches as his deep voice lets out the most breathtaking sound you’d known him to make. Streams of his cum paint your walls as if it’s a canvas. You both lie there, panting and out of breath. His lips shut yours suddenly, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth. Your arms wrap around his neck, as Namjoon crashes his lips with yours — an action filled with fervor. The moment he pulls away and falls to your side, chest rising up and down, is when you let the words fall from you without hesitation.
“I love you, Namjoon.” There was a brief silence that fell, a moment where Namjoon tried gathering up his thoughts. He couldn’t believe it. He’d finally done it. He recalled the day when you both had lunch at that Italian restaurant you love. He remembered everything about that day. He remembered you ordering ravioli, and he remembers ordering spaghetti and meatballs. He remembered when you asked him what he looks for in a companion. He remembers taking you on a walk at the park afterwards, and how you both went to get gelato that evening. But most importantly, he remembered how you’d confessed how love wasn’t easy to find like in movies.
Namjoon peers over at you, with cheeks raised, eyes nearly shut, and a full heart, “I love you too.” He braces his arm around you, welcoming you into his arms. You cling onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll leave. The sound of his heartbeat rings through your ears, as you rest on his chest.
—
It was Monday again, and you frequented the coffee shop with Namjoon just like always. It was like a hidden pact you both made telepathically ever since you’d met. Another favorite destination was the park. You enjoyed going on walks with him, simply admiring the breeze, the radiating sun in the distance, the sound of the trees swaying in the wind, the birds chirping, and Namjoon’s voice. You’d even bring Marv with you sometimes. But this time, it was just you and Namjoon. With fingers intertwined, you both strolled along the path. Sometimes, you liked it this way. The silences that would sometimes happen between you both. It was something intimate about it in some way. It taught you how important it is to appreciate each other’s presence.
And you do.
You cherish being with Namjoon. Ever since you both had sex in your studio, some part of you feared that things would change forever. Like how things fell apart with Jimin, but to your surprise, it didn’t. Namjoon was still himself. He still came around on Mondays, and he still treated you as he did before. And for that, you’re grateful to have him in your life. Your thoughts continue to run and almost like a light bulb that flickers on, you stop walking. Namjoon loses your hand in the process. He looks back to find you standing still.
“Hey, what’s-” He’s cut off by your sudden response, “I have an idea!”
His eyebrows furrow, and you reach out for him. He takes note and grabs your hand, “Take me to the nearest tree.” Namjoon tilts his head as if thinking.
“Um...” He trails off, scanning the environment for said “tree.” You grow impatient, not having felt him drag you along to move yet. “Hurry, Joonie.” You plead, now tapping your foot.
“Okay, okay. Going.” He starts back on the move, and you feel grass under your shoes. The burning anticipation eating away at you, as a rush of excitement washes over your face. You’re sure he'll notice you beaming once you stop. It even feels much cooler now, the sun no longer scorching you anymore.
Namjoon takes a deep breath and adds, “Okay. We are here.” He states while standing in the shade, under an oak tree, without an idea of what’s going to happen. Still holding his hand, you use your other to feel upon his body, searching for the hem of his trousers. His eyes widen and hands come up to stop you.
“Woah, slow down tiger!” He chuckles while eyeing your form in confusion. You frown at him, and beg, “Please. I really want to do this. I’ve never given a blowjob before.” Namjoon surveys the area, not believing what you’re asking of him in this moment.
“Here? Really?” A rush of adrenaline washes over him at the thought of you on your knees in public, where anyone could catch the two of you idiots. Your palm finds the area where his member hides. Namjoon grabs your hand and moves the both of you behind the tree, where he hopes no one would be able to see. He unzips his pants and frees his cock from his briefs.
“We’re screwed if we get caught you know that?” He says matter of factly. You shake your head at the thought and giggle at his anxiety of being caught. He takes your hand into his and places it on his cock. He’s soft, and so you get on your knees to begin. Your fingers graze and wrap along his shaft, you use your hand to help guide him onto your tongue — licking along his member at a slow pace, being sure to coat him nicely while pumping him. Namjoon’s head falls back onto the trunk of the tree. He has to admit that even if you’d gotten caught, he wouldn’t regret it.
After all, this is his first blowjob ever. He laces his fingers into your hair, caressing your strands. You use this chance to take him in, and he almost cries out just a little too loud. The warm, slick flesh of your mouth smothers him entirely. Your tongue glides along the underside of his shaft. His cock grows harder by the minute, and before you know it, he’s rock hard. Namjoon uses your hair as a guide to push his length further down your throat, and you nearly choke.
“Fuck, yes. Don’t stop,” He growls, thrusting his hips into your mouth, gradually losing himself in the nostalgic feeling. With hooded lids, he lowers his gaze at you, and could almost cum, right on the spot, at the view of you on your knees, gagging on his dick, and so lost in pleasing only him. The lewd noises of your throat being fucked causes a gush of wetness in your panties. More cries of pleasure fall from him, and you cherish every second of it. You wanted to show Namjoon how much you love and appreciate him, and you hoped this was one way of informing him. Your head bobs back and forth, smothering him with your spit. Your fingers grasp onto his thighs to keep some leverage. He thrusts his hips faster, sliding his cock against your tongue.
Within a few moments your lungs ache to breathe, your fists pounding onto his thighs to signal him. He tried desperately to hold out just a little longer, but he couldn’t. He was too lost in how your mouth felt, the feeling was overwhelming for him since it was his first time. Namjoon let himself go completely, “I’m going to cum, fuck-” His breath hitches, and he pulls your head back — your lips releasing him with a pop. His grip lands on top of your head.
“Open your mouth, sweetie,” You follow his command and open wide, as he jerks himself off. His abdomen and lower pelvic area contracts, ropes of his cum land onto your tongue, and you flinch slightly, a few drops falling on top of your eyelid. You wipe away the mess and lick the substance off your fingers. Namjoon hurriedly pulls his pants and undergarment back on, zipping up his trousers in a rush. With shaky legs, he helps you off your knees. What you didn’t expect was a kiss from him so instant. But you don’t complain, no. Because you love kissing him. He tastes the salty remains of his secretions still on your tongue. He pulls away to caress your face,
“You’re really going to be the death of me,” he announces, after giving you one last peck and lacing your fingers with his while leading the way back home.
