❝i want to marry you when I'm 25.❞
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when the odds seem to always be against you, and everything looks quite well from afar, do you think that the buried feelings you thought you had completely gotten rid off is still worth fighting for? because wh...
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He'll regret this.
He will definitely regret this later.
Of course, that doesn't cross his mind at the moment, for he undresses the woman before him as though it were the easiest thing to do.
Namjoon and Chaeyoung shouldn't have spent the night together. He thought that maybe taking her back to his place wouldn't do any harm, as she didn't want to go back to her house.
It should've been fine. Nothing would've gone wrong if only Namjoon didn't agree to give her more drinks like she asked him to, and if he never agreed to taking a shot. Because, of course, one shot turns to three, and three turns to many, and many turns a sober man drunk as fuck.
Them being alone in his house should've caused no problem if alcohol weren't added to the already messed up mix.
No one would've seen it coming, Hoseok's friend and Jimin's sister. No one would've expected them to do something like this.
But then again, there they were - her clutching at the man's hair tightly in her hand, and him leaving sloppy kisses down her neck.
"Fuck, hurry up," Chaeyoung groans as Namjoon continues to struggle to unbutton her blouse with his shaking hands.
"Hush," he says back as he leaves more marks of purple on the skin of her neck, "I'm trying."
She rolls her eyes at that, pushing the man to lay on the bed and does the undressing herself.
Looking at her from the bed, Namjoon could tell the clear resemblance of Chaeyoung's authoritative attitude with her brother's. Blinking as he realizes that she finally undressed herself, she moves on top of Namjoon.
She's going top? he thinks as she goes back to kissing his lips. He giggles cutely as her hand creeps us to his, intertwining their fingers together above his head.
This is the best Namjoon has felt with anybody in so long, though he'd be lying if he said that he knows exactly what he's doing.
After all, he's only had sex one or two times before, and after that he came to the conclusion that he doesn't like sex at all. No one ever told him how dark and slippery everything gets, or if he's doing what he's doing correctly.
He never knew if he was. All that he had to get his guidance and tips and advice from is porn.
"Bite me if I'm wrong," she starts, now moving her kisses to the side of his face, her breath hitting at his cheek, "but something tells me that you're not much of the kind of guy who likes messing around."
"What if you're right though?"
She giggles, a cute "aww" escaping from her lips.
She wonders, would she still be doing all of this with him if they were sober? Maybe, if they both wanted it. She's not sure if they'd even want it if they were sober though. That, she couldn't tell.
