BrandiWiley87

Y/N hated the rain, the subtle trickling down bus windows or the small patting noise it made whenever it hit the concrete streets of New York. Whenever tourists visit the concrete jungle that was this city, many people tend to forget the less modern and lavish part of the state. East Harlem for instance, which is exactly where Y/N lived. Going up the steps of her apartment, grabbing her key and opening her door. She glanced at the mail that had been haphazardly thrown onto her floor, bending down to pick it up before locking the door. A small, heavy sigh left her lips as she looked at her apartment. Small little droplets had begun seeping through the ceiling, puddles beginning to form on her wooden floors. Without much to say, she walked over to the sink and opened its bottom cabinet. Grabbing the few buckets and bowls she usually stored there for this exact problem, she quickly set up her apartment to be rain appropriate before flopping onto the couch. 

“I need a break.” She muttered, feeling bitter about how awful her day had been. Not only did she get yelled at by some elderly women at the grocery store for something she didn't even do, her manager scolded her afterwards as well. To make matters even worse, it had begun raining while she was heading home from work, making her apartment cold and wet. 

If only she still had time to write, but there was nothing she had left. Money was certainly tight at the moment, and she's barely even been able to pay rent. There wasn’t much time left to write. Loosely letting her eyes skim over the few letters in her hand, her eyebrows knitted together as she opened a letter from her landlord. An eviction notice greeting her rather casually, she could just imagine her landlord's grin as she sent off the letter. 

On a more convenient note, a letter from her father was also present. It was packed with information, condolences, inheritance, and a plane ticket to France. Having read the letter, Y/N grieved the loss of her grandfather. He was a very busy man, and they only shared memories from when she was young. But those sweet, short moments, she held close to her heart. Her father must’ve predicted her hesitance to visit her grandfather's manor, which she had inherited, so he had been adamant on her not wasting the money he spent on the plane ticket. 

“It's better than this dump..” It was easier to just move on then to cling to certain aspects of her life. It wasn’t like her apartment and life was worth staying for. With her decision being final, the next few days moved on like a blur. 

She gave in her final notice to her current employer, talked to her landlord, and packed her belongings. It wasn't much, mostly because she didn't own much. Everything she got could fit into one, large navy blue suitcase. One of those add-on strap buckles wrapped securely around it, sure most people used shell suitcases now but this one was a clear hand me down. Having given her luggage away, she went through the security check without a complaint. Now sitting at her terminal, she tapped her boots together as she stared at them.

Everything was changing now, whether she liked to admit that or not. New people, new friends and enemies. It was both an exciting and utterly terrifying feeling, stepping directly into the unknown. The thought brought a heaviness to her shoulders, her body almost insisting to stay seated in the thin leathery seats provided by each terminal.  But then it became boarding time, and her body was still frozen in its place. “Now boarding group C, everyone in group C please come to the front so we may proceed with boarding.” A honeyed voice called out through the speakers, with a glance to her side it wouldn’t have taken a genius to see the fakeness in her tone and smile. She almost felt sorry for her, having to travel in small platform heels, a tight skirt, and cheery red lipstick that no doubt smudged onto her teeth every now and then. All the while her hair was tied into such a tight bun it practically gave her a face lift, it must be the most euphoric feeling to be able to take everything off once their shifts are over. 

“Last call for group C!” The stewardess called out once more, which was the last encouragement she needed to finally get up. Her brown backpack hanging loosely off her left shoulder, she grabbed her phone and scanned her boarding pass before entering the plane. Once seated and her bag snuggly stored underneath the seat in front of her, she turned to look out the window. Mentally preparing for a seven hour flight, she adjusted her neck pillow, pulled her sleeping mask over her eyes, and put on her headphones. Then, she dozed off to sleep.

“Miss.. excuse me, Miss?” A sweet voice called out to her, followed by someone carefully shaking her shoulder. Waking up from her sleep, Y/N was quick to pull her sleeping mask off to look towards the stewardess who had woken her. “Pardon me Miss, but please put your seat up as we prepare for landing.” The woman hummed, before continuing to walk down the aisle. Landing? Oh, right. She had fallen asleep earlier, but she usually never slept through her entire flight. With a sigh, she put up her seat and packed up while they lowered onto French soil. Landing was always the worst part of traveling, if the unbearable pain in her ears wasn’t enough the unmanageable screeching from nearby toddlers and babies wasn’t exactly her favourite either. But with a bump to the plane, its wheels finally touched the ground as the pilot hit the breaks. A few minutes afterwards, people were finally allowed to leave. Grabbing her bag and proceeding to get her suitcase, Y/N eventually stood outside of the airport. 

The good part about busy airports is the designated line for taxis, no one had to compete or call out for one. It was a rather organized affair really, giving the address of her destination while putting her luggage in the trunk, she was soon off on her way to her new home. 

Three short yet utterly agonizing hours later, Y/N paid her taxi driver before getting out of the car. Heaving a heavy breath of fresh air, she rested her hands on her knees as she crouched over. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick…” She muttered, taking a few minutes before finally straightening up. Her eyes finally got the chance to travel along the unfamiliar landscape, a large metal gate standing in front of here. It was partially overgrown by vines who had wrapped themselves around the iron bars, growing more dense where the gate met two stone pillars. “Gosh, why did they let this place get so run down?” 

Sure, Grandpa was fairly old and couldn't exactly take care of the gardening himself, but didn’t he hier gardners? Pushing the gate open, it let out a horrible high-pitched whine, the joints probably being rusted. Now having entered the property, a stone pebbled path leads towards the entrance of the manor. A wide circle leaving room for a water fountain in its center, but a few steps closer revealed an algae soaked paradise instead of a lavish status symbol. “Gross.” 

Y/N scrunched up her nose, walking past the entrance and finally pushing open the two large mahogany front doors. Her hopes about the front yard being the only place neglected soon vanished as her eyes soaked up the sight of her surroundings. Furniture was covered in long white linen sheets, while dust covered the floor like a soft blanket. “Grandpa, when did you last step foot into this place, wasn’t this your home?” Odd. That’s how she’d describe her new home, the floorboards creaked occasionally, and her soft footsteps echoed throughout the entire manor. Exploring was her new objective, abandoning her luggage by the entrance hall, she walked down one of the halls to her left. 

Perhaps it was just the dirty atmosphere, but something felt unnerving about walking around. Her gut tugged itself into knots as she discovered the kitchen, dining hall, a storage closet, and a few other abandoned rooms. Her bedroom seemed to be on the second floor, a grand staircase covered in red carpet leading towards the next layer of her home. The house had an odd number of rooms, places that seemed to lack from her childhood memory. Returning to her luggage, she dragged her suitcase up the stairs and into her new bedroom. “With a little care, I’m sure this place will grow more comfortable in no time.” She sighed, rolling up her sleeves as she walked over to her balcony doors. Swinging them open carelessly, the view of the back garden was just as saddening as the front. 

It looked disastrous, as if someone had meant to restore a wild habit for some jungle animal. But with the chirping of the birds, their distant singsong voices dancing around her garden, the evening breeze kissing her skin. She smiled, an odd welcomed peacefulness washing over her. “Better leave now before it gets too late.” She muttered, swinging around and closing the glass doors behind her. Shuffling through her bag to grab her wallet, she made her way towards the door. 

A freezing, sudden flash of wind hit her. Her skin flaring into a display of goosebumps as she swung around, her eyes locked on the sight of the closed balcony windows. As fast as the feeling appeared, it vanished just as quickly. “I'm starting to freak myself out.”  She shuddered, rubbing her arms as she walked out of her room and down the halls. The lingering feelings of being watched made her uneasiness grow, all the horror movies she’s seen now replaying in her mind. 

“Stop it! The wind was just a draft from the balcony, stop freaking yourself out Y/N.” She coached herself, continuing to walk. The walls seemed to linger after her, her steps quickening as she hurried down the stairs and swung open the front door. She let out a breath of relief as she was outside, hurrying off to leave the property for now. Making her way down the gravel streets as she walked into town, it wasn’t even comparable to the hectic life in New York, but the calmness of the evening seemed almost reassuring.

Small couples were taking their evening walk, mostly edler people if she inspected them closer, chatting contently to their significant other. They waved, the sight of an unfamiliar face most likely being connected to a newcomer. Compared to her home, the town looked so neatly organized, bushes being trimmed to a subtle state of perfection, flowers being arranged to show how complementary their colors were. It looked magnificent. 

Further down the street, there was a decently sized grocery store Y/N was glad to enter. She grabbed a few necessities, such as food and drinks before being held up in the cleaning aisle. The place was an utter mess, so she definitely had to get something reusable. Her hand rested on her chin, her foot tapping onto the floor anxiously as she pondered over her options. 

“I’ve never seen someone look so seriously at a bunch of cleaning products.” A honeyed, but rather raspy voice commented, amusement evident in her tone. Looking to her side to follow the voice, a gentle looking elderly woman greeted her. Her back was slightly hunched, a small floral dress covering her while her short grey hair put into neat curls. 

“Oh, I’ve got a lot of cleaning to do. I’ve just moved in and the place is a mess.” She smiled, looking at the woman who covered her mouth with her gloved hand to hide her giggle. “Oh dear, it seems like you have your hands full. Well, let me give you a suggestion if you don’t mind. I’ve had to clean up my fair share of messes too,” She chuckled, as if a memory flashed before her that was deeply amusing. “This mop is great for wooden floors and tiles, and this duster is washable so you can reuse it too. For actual cleaners..” She mumbled, walking further along the aisle while Y/N moved to pick out the suggested items and add them to her cart. “These ones will do, they’ve even managed to get rid of the messes my grandson makes.” She hummed, and added them to the cart as well. 

“Thank you, this is my first time owning a home so I really appreciate the help.” Y/N hummed, smiling at the kind lady. “Oh well, welcome to our humble town. It might not be much, but the people really share a sense of community here. I'm sure a little fine missy such as yourself will fit right in.” The woman giggled, “What street do you live on now? My house on Oakland is always open to visitors. I’m sure my grandson will be stoked to meet you!” She smiled, while you couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of her trying to hook you up.

A polite smile grazed your lips, “Thank you, I’ll be sure to visit soon then. I live on Grand Rue.” 

As if you had said something awful, the ladys bright sunny expression was now clouded. A look of deep unsettlement tugging at her lips, a seriousness washing over her that deeply unsettled you. “Oh my, I didn’t know they let anyone live there.” She mumbled, scanning over you rather quickly. “My dear, please take care of yourself. That please is rumored too..” She trailed off, as if a mental dilemma sparked inside her. Whether to warn you or let you return to your home in peace. 

But the seeds of anxiousness had already bloomed within you, and your curious eyes wouldn’t dare to waver now. “Rumored to?” You inferred, wanting her to go on.

“Be haunted.” The elderly woman whispered. 

Huh, you couldn’t help but lean back with a sigh. You had expected something more, well, frightening. Like a murder or missing person report, but you didn’t believe in ghosts. There was a scientific explanation for everything, at least that’s what you told yourself. 

“Oh, I’ll be careful then.” You hummed, waving the woman off as you rushed to the checkout. As much as you had liked interacting with the kind woman, she clearly had some screws loose to act so horrified by some simple rumors. 

Paying for your items and carrying your bags up the streets towards your home, the sun was beginning to set. Cooling the air and covering everything in an orange hue, a rather pretty sight. By the time you had arrived at the front gate, you once again push open the doors and glance at your home. 

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You were home alone for the weekend and invited Namjoon over, practically spelling out to him that you wanted to sleep with him if he was willing. Now, willingness was not an issue for him. He was more than ready to be with you in any way possible.

The thing that was bothering Namjoon was what you told him during the walk home from the party when you were a bit drunk and disappointed. All along, he was trying to treat you the way you deserve. He wanted to show you that someone could really care about you for you, that you weren’t just a toy to the people who took the time to get to know you. That was his mantra at that point, and Jimin was the biggest enemy in his head solely because he treated you like something disposable. 

Yet, it was Namjoon who didn’t deliver on his promise. Granted, Jimin never promised you anything, so you had zero expectations, but Namjoon was the one who promised more, who told you that you shouldn’t settle for less, that you deserve to be treated well. In all honesty, he just wanted to show you that you deserved more than just someone who used you for sex. 

And, what did Namjoon do the second you two started getting somewhat intimate? He devoted all his time and energy to making it to the next party—which was never his thing anyway—so he could get closer to you.

Where were all these dates Namjoon criticized your former partners for not taking you on? He didn’t take you out on a date either. Studying by the lake did not count as a date, no matter how much he wanted to believe that. So, that made him just as bad as Jimin. 

The realization made Namjoon disgusted with himself. No wonder you felt bad that night after the party! It was just one more party he came to because of you, with the intent of ending up alone with you with his hands under your clothes and yours under his. It was not how Namjoon wanted to treat anyone, no matter how arousing and gorgeous and amazing he found them. Wanting to have sex with someone was more than normal, but turning your entire relationship into something that was sex-based was wrong, and Namjoon didn't want to do that with the thing you two had.

Because these thoughts weren't letting him get a minute of rest, Namjoon texted you late the next night, at a time he thought you'd be sound asleep. He wasn’t expecting an answer right away, but he couldn’t fall asleep without texting you, without trying to make things somewhat right.

Namjoon: Hey! I'm sorry if this is out of the blue, but I'll have time tomorrow afternoon. Do you maybe want to go out on a date with me? It's fine if you already have other plans :)

Did it sound lame? Namjoon couldn't get himself to care, not when he'd let you down and thought with his dick instead of his brain before, forgetting that it was his job as your "boyfriend"—if that was what he was—to make you feel good, and not just sexually. He'd read somewhere that all types of interpersonal relationships were a form of give and take. You give something, you get something in return, and it doesn't mean just material things, but it could, depending on the type of partner you have. Namjoon wanted to give his time, energy, and heart to someone who was willing to give the same back. The sex part of it was just a bonus.

Now that he finally met someone he could see as his partner, Namjoon was completely fucking it up from the beginning. Where was this affection he wanted to give his partner? You were definitely the type of person who enjoyed compliments, touches, and attention, even if you pretended none of that meant much to you. He knew you were only saying these things because you thought you weren't worthy of them since guys like Jimin weren't exactly the type to go all out or stay consistent after getting what they wanted.

Where were Namjoon's time and energy? All he gave you were meetups at parties, which—while really fun and arousing—couldn’t really count as quality time. Drunken hookups couldn’t replace sober conversations and getting to know each other better. Besides, if Namjoon got to know you better, he’d probably feel more relaxed around you sooner. All these parties didn’t really do much to help him relax. In fact, they made him believe he could only talk to you or initiate anything when drunk.

Surprisingly, you responded not long after, saving him from his self-deprecating thoughts, setting his mind at ease.

You: I’d love to! :) Where do you want to go?

Namjoon already had something in mind, of course. He’d already thought about where he would take you if you two ever started dating for real, which things he wanted to show you, which places he wanted you to see. 

Namjoon: A bike ride to this really cool place in the woods? If you’re okay with that

Five minutes earlier than agreed, Namjoon stopped in front of your house with a comically large backpack. He was aware of how big and weird it looked, but it was a part of his surprise for you. Of course, you being you, you asked about it the second you walked out of the house and noticed it. 

“Bringing a whole tent with you or?” you joked, getting on your bike and stopping right next to him. He wasn’t really expecting you to, but you leaned in and gave him a small peck on the lips, even if your neighbors were out on the street talking and could see you kiss him. 

It made him get all flustered, but Namjoon managed to smile at you. “You, uh, you look pretty.”

That was a nice compliment, he thought. It wasn’t sexual at all. He didn’t want it to be. There were a lot of sexual compliments Namjoon could have given you, but he wanted to treat you like you deserved, which included telling you how he truly felt. Since he still didn’t have the guts to be completely honest with you about his feelings, he decided to go for compliments about your looks and personality, all of which were true and unbiased.

“Thanks, Joonie,” you said through a slight chuckle before you inspected his face for a second or two. “No glasses today? Choosing aesthetics over your ability to, you know, see?” you joked, still looking right at him. It was a change, for sure.

“I’m actually wearing contacts today,” Namjoon explained, pushing his cap down his face. He felt a bit naked whenever he was without his glasses, and that day wasn’t any different. 

“How come? Didn’t know you wore them,” you asked and followed Namjoon as he started riding to the place he wanted to take you. You didn’t get to spend that much time together, which is why he really wanted to make today worth it, his studies and work be damned for one afternoon.

“I don’t usually, they kind of annoy me, but I figured we’d maybe kiss again and I’m tired of my glasses getting in the way,” he deadpanned, surprising even himself. But, it was the truth, and Namjoon was trying to be as truthful as possible.

His admission made you laugh loudly, the sound filling his chest with pride. “Oh, nice,” you grinned, following him down the road. “You look great either way. I can see your eyes better this way, though.”

“Good. Then I’m glad I put them on.” Thankfully, you were focused on the road ahead, so you couldn’t see the flush on his cheeks caused by the exchange.

Namjoon decided to take you on a trail he often frequented. It was one of the best trails out there, albeit a bit secluded. Maybe that was why it was Namjoon’s favorite. Most of the road was covered by the shade of the high trees, which made the ride even more enjoyable. On the way to the place he really wanted to show you, he slowed down here and there to point out a rare plant or tree or to give you a fun fact about the parts of the city you could see below.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem too bored with his little monologues, even though it sounded like he was reading from an encyclopedia. In fact, you even asked for more details on things you found interesting, and Namjoon was happy to oblige. Soon enough, you two stopped when you reached the peak of the hill, and he told you to get off your bike and follow him through the trees. 

It did sound sketchy since you were all alone in the woods, but you trusted him. A couple of minutes later, you emerged on the other side of the trees, stepping foot on a beautiful clearing surrounded by just a couple of trees, overlooking the valley below.

“Here we are,” Namjoon announced, hoping you wouldn’t be disappointed with his idea of a date, but one look at you was enough to conclude you enjoyed it.

Your mouth opened slightly as you walked forward until you reached the end of the clearing, enjoying the beautiful view from above. You two were the only people there, far away from everyone else, just you and the trees, and a couple of birds that chirped somewhere in the woods.

While you were too busy admiring the view and telling him how beautiful everything is, Namjoon finally opened the big backpack you’d made fun of him for earlier and started unpacking it. First, he spread the plush blanket over the grass, not wanting you to get grass stains on your pants. Then, he took out some food boxes and drinks. 

“No way!” You jumped up excitedly and ran over to Namjoon, looking down at the blanket. “I can’t believe this.”

“I hope you’re hungry!” He grinned and sat down on his half of the blanket, prying the lids off the containers, revealing the contents which included fruit salad, sandwiches, and brownies. Something healthy, something savory, something sweet.

“Wow,” you said in awe, unable to say anything that would really show off your gratitude. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful—you were just too moved to come up with anything. “You really didn’t have to do all of this!”

“Don’t be silly,” Namjoon said with a shake of his head, patting a spot right next to him on the blanket, so you quickly joined, still touched by the fact that he thought of all that. “It wasn’t a problem at all. Seeing as I’m weird when we’re in public, I thought this could be a nice date where I could act somewhat normal.”

You both laughed at that, but you quickly leaned in, your hand gently rubbing his upper back. “Joonie, I know you’re joking, but you’re always normal and polite wherever we go. But, if private dates like these make you less nervous, I’m all for it.”

Your compliment meant a lot to him. Namjoon was expecting you to say it was fine, but hearing you say it made him believe it. Still, he wanted to challenge you a bit. There was always a chance that you feared being completely honest so as to not hurt his feelings. “Sure? You don’t think you’re missing out on fancy restaurants?”

“First of all, they’re expensive as hell,” you pointed out, wanting to stress that you didn’t want him to waste money on you, especially not on overpriced food. “And yeah, getting dressed up and eating out does sound good, but we’d have to act all polite all the time. I wouldn’t get to do this at a cool place like that,” you said, leaning in to kiss him, which Namjoon immediately reciprocated, once again getting pulled in by your taste, wanting more and more. “See? Much better.”

“You’re right,” he breathed into your mouth before moving away, taking a good look at your face. “Anyway, dig right in. I just want to say I didn’t make these without supervision. Actually, my mom helped me with all of this and she did most of the work, so everything is edible.”

“Your mom?” you repeated with a smile you tried to hide. Oh, he’d just told you his mom knew about you, how cool of him. Namjoon looked to the side as he felt his cheeks burning at the horrors that were going on in his head. What if you thought he was a loser for talking about you to his mom, asking her to help him prepare the surprise for you?

“Yeah, my mom,” he admitted, still looking around, unable to face you. “I asked her for help because I would have messed it up.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” you thanked him so gently he wanted to kiss you again, your hand softly patting his thigh before you reached for the food. “I’m sure it all tastes amazing. Thank your mom for me, too.”

As always, you managed to ease his worries with a couple of sentences and a warm smile. The compliments you gave the food and the little taps on his shoulder when you really liked something also helped. You ate the food in silence, enjoying the view and the sun on your faces as you ate and drank in each other’s presence. To Namjoon, it felt better than any kind of date he could have taken you on, any party you two could have been drunk at together.

“Do you like it here?” Namjoon asked after a while, wanting to talk to you instead of just admiring your face under the sun. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy silence with you, but he also felt the need to talk to you now that you were finally alone and in a place that didn’t make him even more nervous.

You immediately responded, turning to face him and giving him one of those big grins of yours. “I love it here!”

“Really?” He wasn’t sure why he asked again, but before you two started talking, Namjoon never even imagined you in a place like this. In his mind, the you he didn’t know didn’t fit into his little world, in the secret places that relaxed him. Right then, you seemed to fit right in. In fact, you being there made his old go-to place seem new—familiar but changed because of your warm presence.

“Yup. I wouldn’t lie. If I tell you I like this place, I’m sure you’re going to want to bring me here again, so I’m aware of the consequences of such a lie,” you joked, cocking your head to the side to grin at him. Well, it was the truth—Namjoon was already planning on asking you to come here with him the next time he went, but only if you actually liked it. “I like it. We’re alone, you seem… at ease here.”

“I am,” Namjoon admitted, nodding in agreement. It felt easy to breathe around here, with no fear of saying something terribly wrong, no worries about running into people he didn’t like, people who didn’t like him. Maybe it was the shared solitude he liked—no one other than two of you, no person who could disrupt his peace and make him feel small. “Much more than at parties.”

“Oh, certainly. They’re pretty boring and annoying without drinks.”

“Yeah, about that…” Namjoon cleared his throat and sat up, straightening his back. Up until that point, he’d been half-lying on the blanket, like yourself, propped up on the elbow of one hand, feeling relaxed. “I wanted to apologize for Thursda—”

“There’s no need, really, Namjoon,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his thigh and giving it a light squeeze. It wasn’t sexual at all, but his body stiffened at your touch, muscle contracting under your hand. “Please don’t feel bad about it.”

“I… I know you said it was okay, but can I just…” He paused to gulp, feeling a bit discouraged by the lack of confidence he was once again feeling, even though he thought about what he was going to tell you. In fact, that was all Namjoon was thinking about those days. “Say it?”

As if you understood it was important to him, you nodded slowly and sat up so you were once again on the same eye level. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“I’m sorry. There’s no buts. On Thursday, I apologized and tried to justify my actions, and there were a lot of buts when there shouldn’t have been. That’s why I brought you here. I want to show you that I do want to spend time with you without—” Namjoon breathed out sharply, stopping himself from using a euphemism, beating around the bush, not being direct enough. If Thursday taught him anything, it was that you liked straightforwardness. So, he cleared his throat, and continued, “Without things turning sexual or anything like that.”

You opened your mouth as if you were going to say something but then closed it and sighed, a small smile appearing as you reached in and placed your hand over his, which was resting on his thigh. “Thank you,” you spoke after a moment or two, looking right into his eyes as you did. “I am sorry too. I should have just talked about it with you instead of getting drunk and upset. So I guess we were both in our heads a lot.”

“I… It’s okay. I’m glad we talked about it, though. I really didn’t want you to feel like I’m just interested in that.” It was true. Namjoon was interested in getting to know you better—all of you—which definitely included all the sex-related stuff. But, it wasn’t a deciding factor.

“I know you’re not. I mean, you told me you haven’t done it before, so I’m guessing you would have gotten sex out of the way if that was what you were looking for.” 

Of course, you were right. If that was all Namjoon was looking for, he would have found it despite his clumsiness and nervousness. At least that was what he told himself when he felt down here and there, when he felt like he’d never meet someone he’d click with, someone who’d understand him even though he sometimes had trouble understanding himself and his needs.

“I… Yes, I would have.”

“I think that’s sweet, you know?” Namjoon appreciated the softness of your tone and the kindness you always showed him. “Not many guys are like that.”

Despite you being so nice, he had to scoff a little. Even if you did really feel that way, not many other people did. “You’re probably the only person out there who thinks that.”

“Screw the rest, then.” With that, you shrugged, and went down on your elbows, letting your head hang back as you relaxed. “Sex is not all that, honestly, not when it’s with random people, when you do it drunk, and when there’s not that much emotion behind it.”

“I think so too, even though I’ve never, uh, had it,” Namjoon agreed, rushing into it before giving himself time to process what you had said. 

So, you didn’t always enjoy sex. For some reason, that was hard for him to imagine. Since you were so attractive and clearly had experience, Namjoon figured you always took what you wanted. You didn’t seem like the type of person to lay there helplessly and let someone use you to get off. Namjoon maybe, but not you. 

Maybe that was why he often imagined you on top of him, fingers around his neck or in his hair, playing with him, and not the other way around. You just gave off the I-get-what-I-want vibes when it came to sexual pleasure.

You just nodded at him, so he continued and admitted something he felt deeply, even if it sounded strange. He just couldn’t imagine himself sleeping with a stranger or someone he didn’t care about. How could Namjoon ever look that person in the eye, pass them in the street as if nothing had happened? “Something that intimate can’t feel good if… If you don’t care about the person.” 

That time, you didn’t nod. Instead, you tilted your head to the side as if you were thinking about his words. “In general, I agree, but it’s not always like that. Sometimes it does feel amazing at that moment, but after… You feel like you could have gone without it. It’s different when you care about someone, that’s true.”

Namjoon didn’t know what to say to that. He had firm opinions on this topic, but none of them were based in reality because he’d never tried any of it. Because of these opinions, he’d never even tried having sex with anyone, but he wondered if having sex would change his mind about it. Some guys changed completely after getting a taste, making their entire social life into one big chase after a single body part. No, Namjoon couldn’t be like that even if he tried—he just couldn’t see that happening with him.

“You, uh… I don’t know how to say this.” You paused, taking a gulp. Were you nervous now? It was strange to see the roles reversed like that, especially since Namjoon felt weirdly comfortable considering you were talking about sex. Still, he felt his stomach clench as he waited for you to continue. “There’s no pressure, especially not from me. I just want to put that out there.”

“I know,” he immediately responded, hoping you weren’t really worried about him feeling that way. Namjoon never really felt any pressure from you. In fact, you initiating things was what helped him get out of his shell. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried, but I do feel a bit stupid for inviting you in on Thursday and telling you to bring condoms,” you admitted, lips forming a straight line as you looked straight ahead and nodded. “It was too much.”

The atmosphere suddenly changed, but Namjoon still wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just that he was thinking about that night and the look in your eyes when you told him to bring a condom, and the promise behind those words. Him and you, bodies connecting, mouth against mouth, skin on fire… Namjoon could already feel it, this thing he wanted so badly with you. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

You let out a soft sigh and turned to face him again, this time forcing out a smile. “No, it’s… I have no problem not having sex, I just want you to know that. I mean, I want it with you, clearly, but on your terms, when you feel like it,” you rambled on, not even pausing to breathe, it seemed. “I just got… I get carried away and tell you something like that when we’re making out, and then I feel stupid later for being so straightforward.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for that, honestly,” Namjoon tried to reassure you with a calm tone, even though his heart was beating so loud he thought it was going to stop. The fact that you were sitting next to him and admitting you wanted to have sex with him was mindblowing. “I didn’t mind it at all. You don’t have to, uh, act protective or anything like that. If you want something, you can say it without worrying about… That. Me being inexperienced, I mean. I’m sure you wouldn’t apologize to any other guy for inviting him in.”

That was Namjoon’s main concern—falling short in comparison with other guys, and not just when it comes to sex. No, he was worried you’d treat him differently, that you’d change all your rules for him, make exceptions. You would usually sleep with guys you like, but not with him because he hadn’t had sex. You would talk about sex freely with other men, but you’d watch your words around him. It would eventually leave you feeling fed up with Namjoon, and things would end.

“I wouldn’t, but you’re not just some random guy to me. I need to be respectful. If you don’t want to have sex, I shouldn’t be talking you into it or, even worse, luring you into it,” you mumbled the words, frowning at the last part. “That definitely wasn’t my intention, I only want something if we both want it. I got carried away that night, honestly. The night went from terrible to good really fast, and it made me really happy and excited and… I did too much.”

“Hey,” Namjoon spoke softly, his hand hovering over yours for a second or two before he gathered the courage to just hold it. Clearly, you were both feeling bad about Thursday, just for different reasons. You both failed to act like yourself and were now regretting it. “You are respectful. You asking me to come inside was tempting, sure, but you weren’t pushy. Besides, the only reason I didn’t was that you were drunk and I wasn’t, and I really don’t want to do it like that. I’d feel bad afterward.”

Yes, Namjoon had just practically admitted he wanted to have sex with you and that the only thing that stopped him was the fact that you had more to drink than him, but he hoped you wouldn’t address it. It wasn’t something embarrassing, but he also didn’t want to have sex now, not until he proved to you he was willing to put in the effort. That became his main goal. Sex could wait. If he’d waited that long, he could wait a bit more.

“Yes, and that’s the last thing you should feel after sex, especially your first time,” you said with a sigh, letting your head fall back onto the blanket so you could soak up the sun. “I’m not really sentimental about first times, but I know a lot of people are. Are you?”

“Sentimental?” Namjoon repeated, praying for an explanation. What did it mean to be sentimental about it? His friends weren’t, not as far as he knew.

“Maybe it’s a female thing,” you said as you lifted your head to smile at him. “You get raised thinking it’s something special or you get raised in a home where no one talks about it. Either way, you know there might be some blood and that you’ll,” you formed the air quote signs next to your head, “be changed, which is total bullshit. I guess it’s different for me.”

“Oh, I see,” Namjoon sighed with relief, “you mean that. I don’t believe in the whole you-get-changed-because-you-had-sex thing, especially not for women. I read a lot about it online because I was, uh, curious to see how women felt about it, and a lot of them were taught that the first time is special because someone takes their virginity and makes them women, and it just didn’t sound good. There was this one lady who wrote about not teaching her daughters that hymens define them at all and that they will be changed after some random guy ‘breaks’ them.”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed with a scoff, staring at the sky, too busy to notice Namjoon admiring how gorgeous you looked under the sun. “I don’t think anything about you changes physically or mentally, especially if you’re too young when you do it.”

Namjoon wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he asked the question before he could give it a second thought, “Were you too young? If that’s not too personal.”

“It’s not, don’t worry. Now that I think about it, I probably was, but I didn’t feel that way at the time. I honestly just wanted to get it over with,” you admitted with a sigh. “I know it might sound wrong, but I just wanted to try and see what the whole fuss was about. Needless to say, I was none the wiser after.”

Namjoon laughed at that, but he quickly stopped, hoping he didn’t hurt your feelings. But, you seemed to be laughing at it too. “I’m sorry it wasn’t that great.”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You shrugged slightly as if it was normal for it to be disappointing. Was it? His male friends all seemed to have a good time, at least. His female friends had different experiences. “Nobody knows what they’re doing when they just start. And also, if you don’t know yourself well, you don’t know what you like. You can like stuff in theory, but it’s not that simple when you actually do it.”

“You mean, sexual preferences?” Namjoon suggested, his mind taking him somewhere new. What were your preferences? You surely knew by then, having gained some experience, at least. Would he ever get to find out more about them? Maybe you would eventually like him enough to tell him what you want and let him try it out with you.

“Yes, exactly,” you agreed, still looking at the sky, unaware of where Namjoon’s mind was taking him. “Do you know yours?”

“Uhm…” Was this the right time for Namjoon to tell you about his fantasies? He had many involving you, but the one with you on top of him, slamming your hips into his as you keep your fingers around his neck was his favorite one. Also, getting to ejaculate anywhere on you would also be near the top of the list, but that one made him feel even more perverted. He knew most guys wanted to do it inside someone—whether it be vagina or mouth—but there Namjoon was, imagining your skin painted with his cum. So, he shook the thoughts away, and responded, “Like you said, I think I would like some things, but I haven’t tried them so I won’t know.”

“Well, if we, uh, decide to sleep together,” you started, sounding a bit awkward too, “we can try some of them out. Sex is all about trying and learning, so we can try it all out. Unless it’s too out there.”

Too out there? Would him coming on your face be considered as that in your book? Would you grimace at the idea of choking him? “I… Give me an example, please.”

“I don’t like pain,” you confidently responded, and Namjoon felt a lot easier right away. He’d never want to hurt you in any way during sex, so he was more than fine with the request. “What else? All the ‘daddy’ stuff.”

“God, no!” Namjoon blurted out, interrupting you. He just had to voice his opinion. “I mean, no judgment, it’s just… Not for me.” It would be funny if anyone called a guy like him daddy, it just would.

“Same,” you agreed with a chuckle, not showing an ounce of shame about discussing something so intimate with him. Because of this, Namjoon wasn’t as ashamed as he usually would be. “What about you?”

“Me?” Were you asking about his preferences again? If you were, could he avoid the question for the second time in a row?

“What’s too far for you?” you repeated, explaining yourself.

“Maybe, uh, spitting?”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I spit on your di—on you the other night.”

His cock reacted to your words instantly, and Namjoon really hoped you wouldn’t notice his semi-erection. It was pathetic to get hard just because you said something. You weren’t even trying to be sexual about it, but it was out of Namjoon’s control. He enjoyed every second of the things you two had done together, including you spitting on his hard cock. “That kind of spitting is fine. More than fine,” he hummed and nodded, suddenly seeming too excited. “Perfect, really. I meant, spitting in mouths is not my thing.”

“Okay, we’re on the same page then,” you agreed, deciding not to address his panicked rambling or how flushed his cheeks got. 

Just when Namjoon was thinking he was making progress, he showed himself he was still a mess. But, you two managed to have a conversation about sex, one that allowed you two to get to know each other better, and he wasn’t completely embarrassed by the end of it, which was a win in his book. Slowly but surely, you were becoming closer.

Once the sun started disappearing, Namjoon and you rode back to your place, where he just didn’t want to say goodbye to you and call it a day. He had such a great time with you, just the two of you, and he didn’t want to go home and not see you. On the other hand, Namjoon had already decided he wasn’t going in, not until he started treating you right, not until you felt like he respected you and wanted more from you than just fun at parties.

You got off your bike, letting it drop onto the lawn before you walked over to Namjoon and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him without warning. You didn’t need to give him one—he’d already given you permission to kiss him whenever you felt like it. Still, Namjoon was pleasantly surprised by how warm and sweet the kiss was, no tongue, just lips brushing against lips, your soft breath fanning his face. It felt as if it was a kiss you wanted to give him just for being himself, and not because you were aroused, which made it even more rewarding.

“Thank you for the date, Joonie,” you whispered as you moved away from his lips, your forehead pressed against his, noses almost touching. The moment felt intimate despite you two being right in front of your house, on the street. No one had ever kissed him like that, especially not sober, which made it special. “I had the best time with you.”

“I… Me too. I really don’t want the date to end,” Namjoon admitted to you, instantly realizing it could be taken the wrong way, and that wasn’t how he wanted to come off. “Not that I’m saying I, uh, want to come inside or anything. I mean, I… Wait, let me start over,” he asked of you, waving his hands around and shaking his head at his own stupidity. “I had a great time and I wish it didn’t have to end.”

“It doesn’t,” you were quick to respond with a grin. “I had a great time too. It’s still early, so if you want to come by later, we can have a sleepover. A non-sexual one. Just watch movies and chill. If that’s too much, that’s fine too. I still had an amazing time with you.”

“I—” 

Namjoon wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend more time with you. In fact, he really didn’t want to go separate ways at all because he felt like he’d gotten to know you so much better in this one afternoon than he did all those nights when he saw you at parties. But, his nerves were getting the better of him, and he was scared he’d say or do something stupid, scared for you to realize what a nervous mess he still was. 

“We can do that,” he said at last. He had to grow up already. If Namjoon couldn’t come over then, after the day you two had had together, when would he be ready?

An hour and a half later, he showed up at your place, bringing some snacks and drinks. Neither one of you seemed to be in the mood to snack, though. Instead, you brushed your teeth, washed your faces, and got under the covers on the sofa. You decided to watch a documentary on Netflix, something engaging, something that would help him stay focused on the screen. 

Despite the doc being interesting, Namjoon still got distracted by the scent of your body lotion and shampoo since he was right behind you, letting you use his bicep as a pillow. Your body fit against his perfectly, warm and soft. For the longest time, Namjoon just lay there, not even daring to drape an arm over your waist. He just breathed in and out, enjoying the feeling of you being so close, of listening to your soft breathing.

“You sure you’re not uncomfortable like that?” you asked, eyes still on the screen. 

“It’s fi-fine,” he told you, pushing his glasses up his nose once again, holding his head propped up on his palm. 

“You can come closer if you want to,” you suggested but bit your tongue the next second. “If you want to, of course. I’m just saying, if you want to, I don’t mind.”

Since you asked him to, Namjoon scooted a bit closer, feeling your back pressing into his chest. Should he? You wouldn’t mind him resting his head on yours and hugging you from the back, if he understood you correctly, but he felt like his heart would stop if he felt you that close.

He was a mess all night. When you two separated earlier, he went home to take a shower and ended up masturbating. It felt kind of dirty because you were nothing but sweet during the date, and nothing other than that kiss happened. But that was the thing that got Namjoon going—you kissing him sweetly, you being so gentle with him, you telling him you wanted him.

All of these things made his heart and dick swell, and he let his hand slide down his stomach to his cock, gently tugging it at the thought of getting to kiss you, feel you, play with your nipples again. Namjoon loved the way your body reacted to his touch, how your back arched when he grazed your sensitive places, how whiny you got when you wanted him.

Then, his mind went to your mouth around the head of his cock, to the look you had on your face, like you were ready for everything with him, and his hand started moving faster, the need to come overpowering. Namjoon rested against the shower wall with one hand, using the other to jerk himself off, squeezing the head here and there while he imagined he was inside of you. How would that feel if just a second or two in your mouth felt divine?

And then, his mind took him to you on top of him, riding his dick expertly as he fought against his orgasm, not wanting to come until you let him. He imagined you rolling the condom over his length, the rubber squeezing him, preparing him for the feeling of your warmth around his length. Granted, Namjoon knew nothing would be able to prepare him for that. 

Still, he imagined it, wondering if you’d sit on it right away and let him stretch you fully, taking some time before starting to move, or if you would take it slow, ease just the tip in before taking the rest inch by inch? Or would you ask him to stretch you with his fingers before you sat down on him, all stretched out and wet, ready for his cock? Soon enough, he came all over the shower wall, imagining the thick ropes of cum were painting your pretty face instead.

Namjoon jerked off because he was horny, sure, but also because he hoped it would prevent him from getting embarrassing boners at your place.

Well, once he got closer to you and felt everything much more intensely, Namjoon realized his little plan wasn’t working. The erection wasn’t a problem since it wasn’t touching you in any way—it was the fact that he kept staring at you under him, the side of your face and neck illuminated by the screen, the changing colors dancing on your skin. He wanted to hold you badly but was afraid of it, not sure if he could just wrap his arm around you.

Why wouldn’t he, though? You told him you wanted to sleep with him. Therefore, an arm around you shouldn’t be a problem. Namjoon lifted his arm under the blanket and reached for your waist but stopped himself right before touching you. Maybe you’d feel his erection if he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer. 

Eyes still glued to the screen, you reached for his hand, found it, laced your fingers with his, and pulled his arm down your waist, letting it rest in yours on the sofa. Once again, you’d read his mind and made the situation a lot less nerve-wracking by doing something simple. Did you think he was a nervous mess?

“I, I’m sorry,” he scoffed at himself, “I… Wasn’t sure.”

“It’s fine, Joonie,” you told him, glancing up at him with a grin. “I figured you needed a little push, even if I’ve told you it’s okay. I like having you close.”

With that, you turned to the screen again, missing the way Namjoon’s face lit up at your words, missing the loving look in your eyes as he inspected your face, wondering how he was ever able to land a single date with you, let alone everything that was going on then. 

A while later, sleep started taking over Namjoon, even though his mind was racing again because he was now so tempted to kiss your cheek, play with your hair, and just hold you. He’d wanted that for a long time, despite being nervous, and then seemed like the perfect time. You were alone, comfortable, and, most importantly, sober.

You definitely couldn’t know what was going through his mind, but you acted like you did—out of the blue, you moved your body backward until it met his from chest to thighs, causing waves of excitement to rush through him, goosebumps starting to creep up at your touch, no matter how accidental or small. 

That was the sign Namjoon needed to lean in and place a soft kiss on the side of your neck. Surprisingly, you responded by exhaling with the softest and barely audible hum, eyes closing for a second or two. Taking that as a good sign, Namjoon kissed you again, this time an inch above the place he’d kissed earlier, that one just as gentle as the one prior.

Slowly, he kissed his way up to your jaw, noticing you were starting to squirm, thighs rubbing together. It felt good to know that his kisses had that effect on you because it felt the same way for him—his erection was raging and it was pressed into your back, so there was no doubt you noticed. Despite that, Namjoon continued kissing your neck, humming as he did so. Then, he added a hand into the mix and used it to gently sweep your hair away from your face, fingers raking through it, grazing your scalp. 

“That feels so good,” you whispered at him, sounding very happy with his touches, which made Namjoon even more content than he already was. It felt like he was finally making the right moves.

“I’ve wanted to do it all day.” It was easier to admit his feelings like that, when you weren’t looking right at him, when he felt like he was in control, in the dark, away from everyone else. “You’re just so soft and pretty, want to kiss you all the time.”

You practically purred at his words, throwing your head back so you could extend your neck to him, allowing him better access to your skin, clearly in need of his mouth. They were just innocent, simple touches, but they were turning you both on. Still, nothing about it felt sexual. It was just the two of you, watching TV, with his mouth on your neck—just that.

“You’ll get me all flustered,” you admitted, giggling at his compliment, even though he could tell you liked getting them. 

“You mean, like you do me?” Namjoon joked before planting a kiss on your cheek. “Good.”

You chuckled at that, leaning into his touch. After a couple of seconds of that, you closed your eyes and relaxed completely, letting Namjoon take charge, which he did. All he did from that point on was pepper kisses over your face and neck slowly, taking his time with each one, while he combed through your hair, seeing as you clearly enjoyed that. 

He’d never touched someone that way before, never caressed another person, and just wanted to make them feel good, which was why he was trembling with excitement at the prospect of yet another million things like that he could discover with you, things he could try out for the first time and actually love, without the fear of getting ridiculed. 

And then, you cocked your head to the side and looked up at him warmly, eyes half-closed. “If you keep being so sweet, I might just doze off.”

“Sleep if you want to,” Namjoon encouraged you, wanting you to enjoy his touches. “I don’t mind.” 

“But I want to kiss you too,” you said with a pout that made his heart skip a bit. It was the cutest way anyone had ever told him they wanted to kiss him, and Namjoon didn’t think he could ever get enough of it. “Come closer.”

Namjoon leaned in just for you to take his glasses off. “Maybe it’s better to get these out of the way,” you explained as you placed the glasses on the coffee table, your gaze never leaving his.

The next second, you cupped his face and pulled him in closer, pressing your lips against his, sighing deeply. “You have the perfect lips for kisses,” you told him while keeping his face so close to yours that your lips touched when you spoke. “So soft… And you’re a great kisser, Joonie. We should kiss more often.”

Everything you were saying was going straight to his soul—at least that was what it felt like. Every compliment did something for his confidence, each one of them reassuring him, helping him understand that you cared about him. It wasn’t just a game, it wasn't just attraction, even though that was more than a guy like Namjoon could hope for. After all, not that many people out there felt attracted enough to him to approach him, let alone anything more. 

“We really should,” he agreed in between soft kisses, hand moving under your neck to hold your head up as he took more control of the kiss and, seemingly, your relationship type of thing.