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4joonkookie · 2 years

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Kiss Me Again

❥Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

❥Words: 2.6K

❥Notes: The smutty conclusion no one asked for.

❥Summary: Exhibitionst!Joon ---> Series. Reunited and it feels so good. Namjoon takes you to his apartment for a not-so-public encounter.

❥Tags: Smut, angst, sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, Joon fucks you on the balcony, resolution, feelings, sense-memory from a cock.

❥❥❥

Riding your bike through the familiar park, his sitting silhouette appears in your vision.

It can’t be him. He hasn’t come here in months.

As you get closer, it’s unmistakable. His eyes lock on yours and your legs slow the wheels of your bike to a stop.

Time slows and all the feelings rush back to you.

The thrill of running from the museum, thinking you were running with him, only to realize he was running away from you. Your stupor in connecting the dots during your last conversation. Then, the frantic hours in the rabbit hole figuring out exactly who he was and how dumb you felt when it all hit you.

It gives you the urge to run.

“Why are you here?” you ask when you come to a stop, trying to appear emotionless.

“Good to see you too,” he says.

You don’t bother responding, feeling yourself shrivel inside. “Look, I didn't want to be rude, but I’m gonna go,” you say, remounting your bike. Nothing in the sea of words in your mind seems worth letting escape your lips.

“Wait, please,” he stands up. “Don’t let me send you away. Sit, read your book,”

“I can’t just sit and read next to you now,” you say, bordering on irritation.

“And why could you do it before?” he says, indignant. “Because it was before you knew who I was?”

“Because it was before you lied,” you snap back.

He shakes his head. "You don’t understand.”

“I don’t need to understand anything,” you say, looking into the distance. “Look, the arrangement we had going, I didn't expect to know you, no matter who you were or what you did, but you lied.

“I didn’t lie, I just,” he stammers.

“You were hiding. There were things you went out of your way to make sure I didn’t know.”

He sighs, lifting his hat and running hands through his hair.

“Will you be honest now?” you ask.

He nods.

“Did you come here looking for me?”

He’s quiet as wrestles with the truth.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he starts.

“That’s not an answer.” You try to shake the words before they enter your ears.

“Yes, I came here looking for you,” he says calmly.

“Why?” your voice breaks and you feel tears welling for reasons you can’t explain.

“Because I miss you,” he says.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m being honest,” he says, taking a step closer. “I miss you.” Goosebumps rise on your skin. Your eyes close when his familiar scent drifts into your nostrils.

“I miss talking to you,” he continues, getting hands around your waist. “I miss how you smell,” lifting a hand to tangle into your hair, bringing strands to his nostrils. “Miss how you taste,” placing a kiss on your jaw. Instinct tells you to shove him away, but a greater part of you feels electrified by his hands on you again.

“I came looking for you because I know I can’t go another day without kissing you again,” His lips, just an inch from yours.

You kiss him, greedy and selfish. It’s quick and you pull away soon, before you can drown completely into him.

“You will now,” you say, breaking away and turning to leave.

“Please,” he says.

He touches your arm and you don’t bristle at his touch.

You fight with yourself, knowing if you turn around to face him, the decision is made and there’s no looking back.

“Kiss me again?” he whispers.

You turn and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. Your body comes alive in a way it hasn’t since you last saw him, maybe even since you first met him here.

You both sink in, dropping your bike and books to the ground, whiplashed by how the nature of this ride changed.

You forgot how much you needed him, how right it feels to have your hands on him again.

He leans you against a tree, hands getting reacquainted with your body.

“I need you,” he grumbles, reading your mind. “Come with me?”

You nod, mesmerized by the deep mutter of his voice. “Take me somewhere.”

Your mind spins, considering where you might go next, shocked you’re doing it again. You mount your bike and blindly follow behind him.

❥❥❥

When you arrive, you keep your head down through elevators, hallways and security.

Oh, he lives here. It dawns on you as he unlocks the door.

“This isn’t where I expected us to end up,” you chirp.

“No?” he replies, shutting the door behind him.

“The park, the library, the museum. I figured we’d be on stage next.”

“Haha,” he laughs, dryly. Then, extends his hand to pull you close into his arms again.

“All the fun we had in those places…” He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Imagine what we could do in bed.” His eyes glance toward the bedroom.

You push your concerns to the side, having barely hashed out what happened or what it all means.

He’s just so tall and smells so good you can’t think straight, pulled to him like a magnet.

And now you’re alone. Really alone, behind a locked door with him all to yourself.

You crash your mouth to his, heated, passionate, tongues prying into each other's mouths.

“Mmph,” he grunts, matching your intensity and getting hands under your shirt.

He hoists you up and you wrap legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom.

Gently tossing you on the mattress, he takes a step back. Heat rushes to your face as he feasts his eyes on you.

He crosses his arms over his waist and removes his shirt. You gulp as the true images replace how your mind has filled in the blanks of what you’ve only touched during previous encounters.

He stands above you, looking at you like prey ready to be devoured.

You reciprocate and lift off your shirt from where you lay.

He leans down and kisses a line between your breasts, slowly lowering the straps of your bra. You arch your back so he can unclasp it, squeezing your freed breasts in his hands.

It feels safer, slower. There’s no need to escape or worry about being caught. Exhilarating as it all was, it’s a relief to have all of him now.

You moan when he latches his lips to your neck while massaging you. The warmth of one of his hands, replaced by his tongue. He switches and lets the cold air harden your free nipple. Experimenting, he gently nibbles and traces tickling fingertips over your body.

Unbuttoning your shorts, he pulls them down slowly around your ankles. Sliding his hands back up, he places a kiss on each hip, letting no skin go untouched.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, observing your quickened breath.

You nod, feeling silly. All the things you’ve done before and here you both are in a regular bed, trembling. The room, empty of anyone or anything else, allows you to feel everything instead of drowning in the thrill.

“Me too,” he admits, lacing fingers with you and kissing your lips.

He breaks away and stands again, unbuttoning his shorts. He pulls them down, erection threatening. You clench, sense-memory from his cock. He locks eyes with you, wrapping a hand around himself to stroke and your skin sets on fire.

“Let me see you,” he says.

The confidence he offers lights up in you again. You spread your legs slightly, giving him a glimpse of yourself.

“Turn over,” he instructs.

And you do, still getting the thrill of being watched.

Lifting your ass, you widen your knees so he can see. Your ass sways in the air, head resting on your forearms.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, stroking himself.

You reach a hand behind yourself and swipe circles around the wetness pooled at your opening, sliding it over your swollen clit. Your mouth hangs open.

“More,” he requests, breath quickened and affected, offering too-slow strokes to himself.

You lay on your back on the pillows and touch yourself to the sight of him, swirling fingers over your swollen core and inside, sure to emphasize how wet you are.

The sweat beads on his sculpted chest. Hand wrapped around his thick shaft, swiping pre at the tip with heavy balls pulled tight underneath.

“Fuck me,” you whine.

He crawls above you again, dragging his thick cock between your thighs before settling his body there. He grabs your hips and pushes inside, sinking into your warmth.

“I missed you,” he says, as you drag nails down his back.

“You too,”

He leans his forehead to yours, kissing your lips and thrusting painfully slow.

He pushes inside so deep, pussy stretching around him. You whine when he pulls out again, clenching around nothing and needing more.

He chuckles, enjoying being a tease. Now he barely pumps the tip in, holding it in his palm.

“Please,” you beg. It’s torture after having him so deep inside.

“Be patient,” he whispers, leaning down between your legs. “I just wanted to get wet,” he hums.

He swirls his tongue over your clit and your body jolts. He uses fingers to spread your lips apart, almost overwhelming, as he moves his tongue leisurely over you.

Then, he picks up the pace. He latches his lips to you and eats like a man starved, plunging fingers inside, sucking and slurping on your clit.

You cry out, feeling yourself careening over the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you moan and he doesn’t. He keeps his tongue battering against your clit, sucking at the flesh around it and keeping your thighs pried open.

You come and shake and squeal before he grips around your thighs and shoves himself inside again. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.

He pounds into you, chasing his own, tilts his head and watches his cock disappear inside you. Sex reeks in the air as you clutch at the soaked sheets.

He pounds, thumbs pressed to your waist. Beautiful moans escaping his lips as he climaxes.

You hold your legs open for him as he comes inside and collapses on top of you, head resting on your chest. You wipe the sweaty hair out of his face.

❥❥❥

“It looks like a museum in here,” you mutter to yourself, finally getting acquainted with the space with a sheet draped over your shoulders. Strolling around, admiring the paintings and sculpted pieces.

You sit on the floor in front of the bookshelf. It’s crammed full, the structure bowing with information he’s taken in.

You scan for something, anything that will tell you more about him, make some sense of the person you were learning before and the persona you learned of after.

Namjoon arrives from the kitchen, offering a bottle of water and sitting down next to you.

“I’m sorry I lied,” he says. “What we had was working, and I didn’t want to ruin it with the truth. My life comes with a lot of strings.” He sighs heavily, obviously burdened.

He continues. “It was clear you didn’t know who I was, and I liked that. I loved how you made me feel, but I liked not having to get too close.”

You nod, agreeing.

“And you were ok with that," he says, revealing the truth in you too. "You certainly weren’t sharing any details, either.”

“Yeah, I liked not having to get too close. It went both ways.” This clearly has to end or evolve into something else, so you ask. “As the one with the complicated life, how does this go?”

He shrugs. “No one can know about us. I’m gone a lot. When I'm not gone, I'm tired,” he says, shaking his head. “I haven’t dated a lot because it just doesn’t work for me and I'm basically not allowed. I don’t know what I can promise you.”

You grab his hand in yours. “I want to read with you and talk about art.” You look around the enormous space. “I guess we can't go out, but staying here can't be so bad.”

He smiles, scooting himself closer to you, and pulling some of the sheet over his lap.

“So," he leans in. Who are you?”

“Well, I’m a Pisces, I work in an office, my apartment is way smaller than this, but my bookshelf is bigger,” you say, smiling. “Ok, my turn.”

“Fire away,” he says.

“Why do you like being in public?”

He ponders for a while. “Sometimes I can’t go anywhere without someone recognizing me. And other times, people have no idea,” taking another beat. “I like getting away with not being seen. Because so often_”

“You’re never not seen,” you finish. You know all about that. Once you found out who he was, he was suddenly everywhere.

“I liked it because I didn’t have to be me. But the more I'm around you, the more I just want to be me,” he says, and blood rushes to your face. He points to himself, signaling his ‘turn.’ “Same question.”

You sigh, contemplative. “I guess I liked having an excuse to not try.” You shrug your shoulders. “I figured if there are no strings from the jump, it can’t go wrong.”

He leans in close, leaning into your ear.

“You know, I’ve still got a way we can ‘scratch that itch',” grazing teeth over your lobe.

“Yeah?” You ask, intrigued, as he lifts you to your feet and leads you to the balcony.

You take in the beautiful view of the city, cars and people dwarfed and buzzing beneath you.

He tugs on the sheet you’re wrapped in, letting it fall to the floor. The breeze cools your exposed bodies.

You sink to your knees and he pushes the hair away from your face as his cock swells in front you. You place kisses on his thick shaft until he guides the tip between your lips.

Your eyes stay locked on his, accepting his length into your throat with ease. He pushes and holds till you gag, a grip at the nape of your neck.

He slides out and admires the saliva keeping you connected, breaking it with the swipe of his thumb. He wraps a hand around each side of your face and pulses into your mouth with shallow thrusts.

You cradle his balls in a hand, massaging their heavy weight while moaning around his cock.

“Come here,” he says, pulling you to your feet and wiping the spit from your lip. He turns and bends you over, your hands gripping the balcony railing.

Still slippery and wet and open, he grabs your hips and pushes inside. You squeeze around him and can feel that high returning to you, roused by being outside.

He stands back and watches as you arch your back to better his view. On your tippy toes, he plows inside and it feels so good your head slumps and hangs between your shoulders as he thrusts. A smile forms on your face when you feel his cum pulsing in you again.

Letting his cock fall out, he turns you again so your back is propped against the railing and wraps arms around your waist, catching your breaths.

He wraps the sheet around your bodies and you both walk back into the apartment, feet tangled and stumbling together to the couch, giggling.

“Question,” he says seriously. “If you’re ready to be honest,” looking right in your eyes.

“Anything,” you reply, snuggling into the cushions of the couch.

“What’s your name?” he asks. You smile and lean in to whisper in his ear.

He smiles and repeats it back to you, sealing it with a kiss.

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