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“You deserve so much better than him.”
Time stood still after the words left Namjoon’s mouth. You watched him take in a deep breath, as if bracing himself, all but flinching away as if expecting you to yell at him or tell him how wrong he was. He grimaced as if he’d said something he hadn’t meant to, but you knew he meant those words and his feelings behind them. You’d known Namjoon a long time, and you knew he always meant what he said.
He wasn’t wrong, and that’s what made you suck in a harsh breath, as if punched in the gut by his words. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking until you tried to run a hand through your hair. You dropped your hands to your lap in an attempt to hide that fact from Namjoon. He was always so observant, though, you figured he’d already noticed. If he was observant enough to realize what a piece of shit your boyfriend Mark was without even knowing about half the things Mark did to you, then surely he noticed something as obvious as your nerves.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon quickly added, and you knew he meant that he was sorry he upset you, not sorry that he meant what he said.
This was your first time seeing Namjoon in weeks. Mark got so jealous, you figured it was better to just avoid an argument than do something to provoke him, like hanging out with your best friend of more than fifteen years who happened to be a man. Mark and Namjoon both didn’t know that you were in love with Namjoon, and you knew that was for the best.
This was the longest you’d ever been apart from Namjoon since first meeting him as a child, and when you’d asked him to come over, you were pretty sure he’d sprinted from his apartment to yours, knocking on your door only ten minutes later, out of breath and nearly breaking a sweat. He’d hugged you so tight the moment you’d opened the door, squeezing so hard your feet left the ground.
“I missed you so much,” he’d murmured against your neck, squeezing even tighter as he spoke. One of his hands had moved up to your hair, resting on the back of your head. “Are you okay?” It had been a long time since you’d felt someone be this gentle with you, or ask you a question like that, free from pretense or selfish motives. You knew Namjoon cared about you, even after so long apart.
His concern, though, made you want to push him away, as backwards as it sounded. You both knew your relationship with Mark wasn’t healthy. Namjoon didn’t know about the time Mark had hit you or how cruel he was or any of that, but he did know that Mark cut you off from your friends and didn’t treat you with the kindness Namjoon felt you deserved. He’d been very vocal about his dislike of Mark from the beginning, and for that you’d pushed him away, falling right into Mark’s trap.
But today, in a moment of clarity after months trapped in the fog, you’d called Namjoon and asked him to come over. You wanted out. You knew that it wasn’t going to get better, that being hit once was a sign of being hit again later on, or worse, and that the sliver of good you sometimes saw in Mark wasn’t worth sticking around for.
You’d told Namjoon most of this, the two of you sitting on your couch together in your tiny little loft apartment, his hands holding yours, his thumbs stroking your skin as you told him almost everything. You avoided the part about being hit, and everything about the awful sex. God, what would Mark do if you tried to leave him? You’d only been with him a few months, but he was possessive. Violent. Controlling. You knew you couldn’t leave without a fight. You didn’t say that, but Namjoon seemed to just know. He always seemed to know what you were feeling, what you needed, just what to say to make you smile.
Namjoon had listened to everything you’d said, and then he’d said it and you’d tensed up, frozen in fear, shock, and some other emotion you didn’t know. His hands holding yours squeezed gently, and you pulled your hands away.
You deserve so much better than him.
You knew he was right, that you deserved better. You didn’t know why his words hit you so hard, though. Maybe it was the full culmination of the last few months, everything you’ve been through with that fucking asshole treating you like an object and a punching bag, suddenly coming down on you like a knife chopping off an infected limb. You opened your mouth as if to breathe, but nothing happened.
“Y/N?” Namjoon said slowly, his deep voice so gentle and caring, as always. You looked up at him as he bit his lip, tilting his head for a better look as he searched your face for your current emotion, concern evident in his warm brown eyes.
As observant as Namjoon was, there was one thing you were always thankful you’d kept from him. You’d been in love with him since the two of you were young, growing up together, dreaming about him every night as you entered puberty and adulthood. He was your best friend, and you were certain that he was the love of your life, and he had no idea. Mark was your first actual boyfriend, the perfect distraction, a rebound for the relationship you’d never had with Namjoon, and it had all turned so horribly wrong so quickly, the excitement and joy decaying into the fear and isolation you now felt.
And now Namjoon was here again, and you’d missed him so much, been apart for far too long, and you still loved him just as much as you ever did. You didn’t even know how many times you’d found yourself laying in bed after Mark had used you, fantasizing about Namjoon bursting in like some Prince Charming, kicking Mark’s ass and carrying you off into the sunset. You’d cried yourself to sleep alone in your bed, imagining Namjoon’s arms around you, his soft lips murmuring into your hair that everything was going to be okay, that he’d protect you and keep you safe forever. You felt pathetic wishing for that, knowing that you should be able to take care of yourself, but it was your only solace on your worst nights. Namjoon was your safe place, your source of hope, your moon in a starless sky.
You’d spent the last few months in your head like that, and now Namjoon was here, hinting at that care and devotion you’d only fantasized about in your darkest, most terrified moments. It was too much for you. He was too much. How had you forgotten what it felt like, to actually be cared for by him, even in just a friendly way, in such a short time? Your face felt too hot, your lungs too tight, your tears overflowing before you realized they were even there.
You took in a shaky breath, and Namjoon’s lips parted, his eyes horrified as if he thought he was the one making you cry. He moved to hug and comfort you, but stopped himself, his hands up as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Joon,” you said, your weak voice breaking as you held in your tears. God, you sounded so pathetic. “I…”
You wanted to tell him everything, the full truth, the entirety of the hell you’d been through, and you wanted him to hold you and never let go. You were scared he’d see you as weak or pathetic or a charity case, but you needed him to know. You needed someone to know, to help you escape, and Namjoon was all you had. You took in a deep breath, holding in your emotions before finally pushing your words out.
“He hit me.”
You focused just on breathing as Namjoon’s face paled, his lips parting and brow furrowing. You saw a thousand emotions play out on his face in an instant, from anger to confusion to fear to something you didn’t recognize.
“When?” he said suddenly, his voice a low growl. Was he angry at you?
You blinked a few times in surprise to his question, a tear escaping on each side from your blinking. “Um,” you started, your throat feeling almost too tight to speak. Your head hurt from all the tension and held-in tears, and from your fear of Namjoon’s reaction to this. “Maybe a month ago.”
Namjoon nodded, setting his jaw in that way he always did when you knew he was deep in thought. You saw his lips quivering, as if he too was just barely holding back his own tears. His face was almost turning red, his expression pained, his eyes showing what you thought might be betrayal. His hand was beside yours on the couch between you, only inches apart. You wanted him to hold your hands again, like he had been before you’d pulled away, but you didn’t want to cling to him.
“Around the last time we saw each other, right?” he said slowly, and you nodded.
“That same day, after I got home from seeing you,” you confirmed, and Namjoon’s jaw set again, eyes red and watering.
“When else? Was it more than once, Y/N?” he said, his voice cracking as he said your name, and you shook your head, sniffling. He let out a sigh, maybe in relief, though you could still see the pain and concern in his eyes.
“I don’t know what to do, Joon,” you said, your voice cracking too as you finally broke, your tears spilling from you as Namjoon quickly moved to wrap his arms around you, pulling you to him.
He held you like that for you don’t know how long. When you shook, he held you tighter, pulling you into his lap bridal style as the two of you clung to each other, your fists holding onto the front of his shirt like you were afraid he’d slip away from you. His face was buried in your hair, yours against his chest, and he hugged you tighter as you sobbed, your breathing now fast and shallow, your head barely above water.
“It’s you and me, Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his deep voice lulling you. “No matter what, I’m with you. I don’t care what I have to do, I’m going to keep you safe.” His eyes squeezed tight as he held you. You could feel his warm breath on your hair, his big arms secured around you.
You hadn’t cried like this in what felt like years. You’d let yourself cry a little sometimes, like in the shower or alone in your bed, but you hadn’t openly wept, especially around another person, since you were a child. As hopeless as you felt, crying this hard felt almost cleansing to you, even as your emotions overwhelmed you. It was like a release, a great flood coming to wash away all of your misery. Even as you gasped and hyperventilated, face red, tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting Namjoon’s shirt where you pressed your face, you realized this was the best you’d felt in weeks. You could express how you felt in a way you’d been too scared to do before now.
Your body shook and Namjoon only held you tighter, as if squeezing his love into you. His large, warm hands were gentle where they laid on you, his arms wrapped so carefully around your small, shaking form. You realized then that he was kissing the top of your head, over and over and over, his soft lips pressing so gently into your hair. You could hear him humming to you, the noise a low rumble, and you found it comforting, your sobs finally breaking as your breathing steadied. You still shook, tears still fell from your eyes, but you took in careful breaths, no longer whimpering or weeping. Namjoon was your rock, and as you hugged him, sniffling and calming yourself down, the storm around you began to pass.
You pulled back from his chest enough to look up at him. Namjoon’s eyes were red, the lines of dried tears running down his cheeks. He parted his lips as the two of you made eye contact, his brown eyes searching yours. You always loved his eyes, how his irises were so dark, they blended in with his pupils. Right now, his expressive eyes looked heartbroken, the pain drawing his eyebrows together.
You’d never been in his lap like this before. Not even when you were innocent kids playing together. His body was so warm, his presence like a fire in a cold, dark cave. Before you realized what you were doing, you raised your hand to his cheek, touching his burning skin, feeling the way he took in a sharp breath at your touch. He was watching you so carefully, not moving or reacting to your hand cupping his cheek, but you saw the way his skin flushed red, felt his heart racing and pulsing where your other hand rested on his chest.
“I love you, Joon,” you said, your confession barely above a whisper. You needed him to know, even if he didn’t feel the same way, even if he misunderstood and thought you were talking about friendship. You needed him to know as badly as you just needed him.
Namjoon’s eyes bored into yours, the molten intensity making you unable to look away as both of you just breathed and looked at each other. Time stood still in that moment, your faces only a few inches apart, his arms still tight around you, your hands resting on his cheek and his heart.
“I love you too, Y/N,” he said carefully, looking back and forth between your eyes. His breathing was slow and deliberate, his plush lips parted, and you wanted him to know how badly you needed him. He continued speaking, though, and you held your breath when you heard the first words out of his mouth. “I always have, angel. I love you more than anything, more than life. You’re my everything, and it’s been killing me to be apart from you. I just wanted you to be happy, but now that I know that you aren’t and that he’s hurting you, I’m never letting you go. I promise I’ll keep you safe no matter what. I’ll do whatever you want, just, please, please… please don’t push me away again. Please.”
He teared up again as he pleaded with you, his deep voice almost sounding like just speaking was becoming hard for him as he pushed his words out. His face contorted as if he was in agony while he begged you not to push him away, and you nodded eagerly, attempting to stop yourself from tearing up again, too.
“I won’t, Joonie, I promise. I love you so much. More than just friends.” Those last four words left your lips before you could stop yourself, and Namjoon froze when he heard them. He looked like he was processing what you’d said, turning the words over in his head, calculating and examining the situation from all sides as his wide eyes looked into yours. God, what had you done? You couldn’t even make yourself think of the consequences of him hearing those words, your emotions too exhausted from your tears.
Namjoon leaned in then, slowly, watching for you to pull back or show any other sign of not wanting him close. He leaned in until his forehead touched yours, and you held in a sigh at the thought of him being so close to you, the heat of his skin radiating off of him, his scent that you’d missed more than anything intoxicating you and filling your senses. The tip of his nose nuzzled yours, his warm breath kissing your lips, less than a few inches away now, and you moved your thumb on his cheek, stroking his skin and making his eyes fall closed as he let out a broken sigh.
“I love you too, princess,” he said, making you still your thumb on his skin as you looked at him. “In every way it’s possible to love another person, I love you.”
You took in a deep breath, feeling Namjoon move his hand on your back slowly, his fingers spreading out to touch more of you. His eyes were still closed, his forehead still pressed to yours, and he leaned in to where you cupped his cheek. For a moment you thought he couldn’t possibly mean what he said — it was too unrealistic, that the man you love more than anything felt the same way, that your fantasies had a chance of becoming real. But here he was, saying that, touching you like this, and you wanted so badly to believe him.
“Will you say it again, baby? Please, just once?” he pleaded, opening his eyes to look at you, and you nodded slightly, as best you could with your foreheads still connected.
“I love you, Joonie,” you said. The moment his name left your lips, his mouth connected with yours.
He kissed you like he thought you’d be ripped from his arms at any moment, like this was the only chance he’d ever get to pour his affection into you, to show you how much and how deeply he cared for and loved you. Kissing Namjoon felt like finally being able to breathe after being held underwater far too long. You gasped into his mouth, feeling him as he moved his lips with yours and pulled your body somehow even closer to his, not feeling close enough even like this. He groaned into you, tilting his head to kiss you deeper, and you opened your mouth for him when you felt his tongue tracing your lower lip and licking into your mouth. His hand raised to cup your cheek, the other wrapping tighter around you as he kept your body pressed to his. When you moaned into his mouth, he moaned back, like a dialogue, tilting his head to the other side to kiss deeper still.
You could hear the quiet wet noises of his mouth and tongue moving with your lips, the little noises he made as he tried to hold in his moans, the sound of both of you gasping for air in the split seconds between deep kisses, and you wanted more. You wanted to hear these sounds forever. He felt and tasted so good, his touches so perfect, you already knew you’d become addicted.
You shifted in his lap then, moving to straddle his legs as he wrapped both arms around you again. He moaned into your kiss, losing himself, his warm tongue swirling in your mouth as his soft lips still moved with yours. He was better than you ever imagined, his big hands gentle yet firm, his kisses overwhelming you. He was a force of nature — purposeful, cleansing, cathartic — and you let him take you, though you knew you were already his. Now that you knew he felt the same way, you didn’t want him to ever let go of you. You didn’t care about the consequences or what Mark would do to you; you just wanted Namjoon, the love of your life, forever.
You moved your hips against him instinctively, unconsciously grinding down enough to feel his already half-hard erection, and that was what made him pull away.
“We can’t do this,” Namjoon gasped against your lips, moving back just enough to press his forehead to yours again. The two of you breathed in each other’s exhales, lips still almost touching as he spoke. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you and your emotions. Let’s wait until you’re feeling better, okay?”
“I feel fine,” you murmured to him, nuzzling your nose against his and feeling his whole body tense up. “Please, Joonie. I love you so much.” That was the name you’d called him when you were young, before either of you even knew what this kind of love was. You’d grown up calling him that, and you were the only one who’d ever used that nickname. Hearing it now, when you were in his lap and your lips had just been on his, made him moan, his eyes falling closed as he took in a shaky breath.
“Please,” you begged, your lips tracing his. “I need you. I’ve always needed you.” You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth, feeling his grip on your hips tighten for just a pulse. “It’s always been you, Joonie. I’ve always been yours.”
He bit his lip, loving hearing those words from you more than anything in the world. He was trying so hard to be good and honorable, but you didn’t want that. You wanted him, needed him more than anything, and you could tell he was just as worked up as you were.
“Baby, are you sure?” he said. His pupils were blown with lust and bloodshot from his tears, his lips kiss-swollen and red, his honey voice a deep, quiet rumble. “Are you sure you want to… cheat on him? I want you more than anything and I know that he’s terrible, but I don’t want you to rush into anything or do something you’ll regret. You’re in a vulnerable state right now, we shouldn’t…”
Namjoon had hesitated saying the word cheat, and you understood why. You understood all of what he was saying and why he felt this way. Neither of you cared about Mark’s feelings, but Namjoon was still worried. Knowing him, his mind was moving a hundred miles a minute, thinking through every potential outcome to this moment.
“Joon,” you started, desperate now as you grabbed at his shoulders. “I want to cheat on him. I hate him so much. He’s so awful to me, and sex with him is… it hurts, Joonie. It’s all about him, and it’s painful because I’m not into it and he does nothing to change that, and I hate every moment of it.”
Namjoon took in a harsh breath as he listened to that, setting his jaw as if holding in his anger. You knew Namjoon had never been violent or volatile a day in his life, but part of you wondered what he’d do if he ever saw Mark again after today.
“Sometimes, to make it go by faster, or to make it better for me… I think about you, Joon. I imagine it’s you making me feel good instead of him using me. When he leaves, I imagine you holding me as I cry. If that’s cheating, I’ve already been cheating on him for months.”
Namjoon pressed his forehead against yours again as he closed his eyes and breathed in hard, as if holding in a sob and just barely containing his emotions. He hugged you again, squeezing your body to him, and you could feel that he was shaking from what you’d told him.
You felt numb to all the pain you’d been through. None of it mattered anymore, because now Namjoon was here. You trusted him and loved him and knew he’d always be here for you, just like he’d always been, and all that mattered was that you were together. You wanted to be with him, you wanted him to make love to you right now, to take all the sadness and pain and heartbreak away and replace it with his love, the way only he could, and from the way he held you, you suspected he might want the same thing.
“I love you,” he said, and he turned his head and kissed your cheek. Another kiss to your cheekbone, then the skin between your hairline and the corner of your eye, then your temple, and then he was covering that entire side of your face in slow, gentle kisses, bringing his hand up to hold your other cheek as he worked. He was murmuring against your skin between each kiss, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over, so quiet you could barely hear him, never taking his lips off of you fully. You could feel the wetness of his tears, and you took in a shaky breath, holding back your own. You were done crying. You were here with Namjoon, and you knew he’d never bring you pain or tears. You were safe now.
He pressed one final kiss to the center of your cheek, much more firmly than the others, before stilling and resting his forehead against your temple.
“He’s never going to hurt you again, angel,” Namjoon murmured into your skin. “I’m going to take care of you, keep you safe. I’m gonna cover your body in kisses every day, worship you, spoil you rotten like the princess you are. You’re my princess, my baby, my love, my angel, my best friend, my everything. He’ll never touch you ever again, baby, I promise. I’m going to protect you no matter what.”
You nodded with his words, agreeing with him. You wanted that from him more than anything in the world, and his words sounded almost too good to be true. You had to be dreaming, because Namjoon loving you like this seemed so impossible.
You kissed him then, before the mirage could disappear, and Namjoon kissed you back immediately, firmer, more sure of himself now. His hand on your cheek held you perfectly in place as his tongue moved in your mouth again, deeper now as he claimed your mouth as his. Whatever shred of not wanting to push you too far too fast that he had been holding on to melted away as he moved his lips with yours so surely, perfectly, lovingly.
“Make love to me, Joonie. I need you,” you begged against his lips, writhing in his lap as you whined and pouted.
“I will, sweetheart. Every day for the rest of my life,” he said, giving you another firm kiss before you pulled back again. Namjoon’s mouth chased after your lips, not wanting to stop kissing you yet.
“Now,” you whined, not wanting to wait any longer.
Looking between your eyes and your mouth, Namjoon nodded, agreeing with your pleas. “Okay, princess,” he said, his eyes almost dazed from his lust. He scooped you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he stood carefully. His hands held you at your thighs, squeezing to secure you. Out of instinct, you expected that to hurt — it had always hurt when Mark squeezed your thighs. But the pain never came.
Namjoon’s lips never left yours as he stumbled over to your bed, nearly tripping over a pile of clothes and a pillow that had fallen as you’d slept last night. You giggled into his kisses, bracing yourself on his shoulders and holding onto him tighter, until he made it to the bed and sat you down. He laid you back slowly, carefully, and you felt yourself sinking into your plush comforter, your hands and legs never letting go of him where you’d latched on.
Hovering over you, Namjoon moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin, his tongue tracing circles over your pulse. His large hands moved down the curves of your body, like a sculptor shaping wet clay, and you moaned for him, right in his ear, and he let out a groan of his own in response to you. You felt and heard him sucking at your skin, tilting his head to get the perfect angle as he worked, and you hoped what he was doing would leave a big obvious hickey. You wanted it to, more than anything. You wanted there to be proof of this happening, for everyone to see.
You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of Mark in that moment. However, for the first time in months, you were happy when you thought of him. You pictured the shocked look on his stupid smug face upon finding out that your best friend had fucked you while you were still in a relationship with him. You imagined what he’d say, how he’d react knowing that Namjoon, the man he’d been so jealous of, had come and stolen you away, and you felt yourself smiling at the thought, knowing Namjoon would always keep you safe.
It was petty and childish, but the thrill of having this secret with Namjoon, of being Namjoon’s lover when you were still technically Mark’s girlfriend, was exhilarating. You knew exactly what Namjoon would say to that — that you weren’t his lover or Mark’s girlfriend, you were just you, your own person, but you let yourself have this. You weren’t Mark’s anymore. In opening up to Namjoon emotionally and physically, you defied Mark and his control. You were yours as much as you were Namjoon’s, and you were free.
Namjoon kissed down your neck, suckling and biting at your collarbone as he pulled your loose t-shirt down as much as he could, stretching it against your chest. You brought one hand up to his hair, sighing and closing your eyes as you felt his lips moving on your skin. Everywhere he kissed and licked, he left behind trace amounts of his saliva, goosebumps spreading across your body from the cold air hitting that moisture.
One of his hands moved down to your stomach, his fingers teasing under your shirt but not going any farther than your ribs. His hand was hot to the touch, his whole body burning like a furnace. You could feel the hint of his weight on top of you, though he mostly held himself above your body, careful not to suffocate you. You wanted him to, though. You wanted more.
“Joonie,” you sighed, arching your back, presenting yourself to him. He came back up to your face, cupping your cheek as he kissed the corner of your mouth.
“I’m here, princess,” he murmured into your skin, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your cheek.
“Please,” you whined for him, squeezing your legs around him. You knotted your hand in his hair, and he moaned, closing his eyes, apparently loving that feeling. You’d have to keep that in mind.
“What do you want, baby?” he asked you. You were almost too distracted to answer, feeling Namjoon peppering kisses along your cheek while he waited for you.
“Touch me, Joon. Clothes off,” you said, and he didn’t wait for another word. Namjoon sat back between your parted thighs, sitting on his heels as he quickly pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it somewhere behind him. He started messing with his belt buckle, but upon looking up and seeing you just watching him, he smiled.
You were just laying there, legs spread, a lazy smile on your face as you looked up and down his body. You knew that he worked out a lot and focused on his chest, but god, he was too sexy, his chest large and firm, his shoulders wide, his muscles defined. To you, he looked like a protector. The perfect man, the perfect lover, the man of your dreams.
You reached out for him, making grabby hands as he laughed and came back to you, laying on top of you again and letting you run your hands all over him as he covered your face in kisses.
“You’re too cute, baby girl,” he murmured, drawing hearts with the tip of his nose on your cheek. Reaching down, he pulled your shirt up your body, and you shifted, wiggling to help him pull your t-shirt up and off. You weren’t wearing anything underneath it, and the moment Namjoon saw your bare chest, you swore his mouth started watering, his eyes glazing over with lust.
His hands and mouth immediately fell to your breasts, massaging firmly as he took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling as you arched your back and let out a long moan for him. He moaned right back, the vibration of the deep sound spreading through your chest and going straight down to your throbbing clitoris.
“That feels so good, Joonie,” you sighed, bringing one hand up to rest in his hair, playing with the soft, short hair at the nape of his neck. He sucked and pulled with his teeth, never doing anything too hard or too much, his hand massaging in pulses lazily while his mouth worked so diligently.
He left your breasts then, kissing down your ribs, his hands running down your sides like he was feeling the shape of your body. He kissed your stomach, in a circle around your belly button, making you giggle when he nipped at your hipbones. His breath, his hands, his kisses were all so warm and gentle, you caught yourself closing your eyes and relaxing, never having felt more comfortable around another person.
“Mmm, you’re so soft, princess,” he murmured against your lower stomach, trailing kisses along the waistline of your pajama pants. “Can’t wait to kiss your pretty pussy.”
You moaned at his words, spreading your legs for him further out of instinct. He’d barely touched you yet, and already you were dripping for him, your core tightening around nothing with every press of his full lips and gentle squeeze of his large hands. You needed him so badly, more than you’ve ever needed anything, and you told him that, grabbing his hair with both hands the moment you felt him carefully sliding your pajama pants down your legs.
Namjoon kissed every inch of your skin as it was revealed to him, pressing his lips to your hips, your thighs, your mound over your panties. Once your pants were off, he returned between your legs, placing an open-mouthed kiss right where you were soaking through your thin panties, his lips suctioning and his tongue flicking against the fabric like he was trying to lap up your wetness.
You keened, grabbing hold of his hair with both hands and arching your back as you moaned his name. Nobody had ever done this to you, gone down on you or even hinted at it, but you’d imagined Namjoon doing this to you a hundred times, knowing in your heart that he’d take such good care of you.
Namjoon pressed his tongue against your clitoris through your panties, and you rolled your hips, moving against his mouth as you cried out for him. He kept his tongue pressed there firmly as you moved, groaning as you pulled his hair, and the noise he’d made vibrated against your clit in a way that made you bite your lip and whimper, your body shaking with need.
“Please, Joon,” you moaned, wiggling as you attempted to somehow spread your legs even further for him.
“You’re so wet, baby. Is this all for me?” he teased, pressing another kiss against your covered slit.
Namjoon slowly eased your panties down your legs, his hands touching as much of your skin as he could on the way down. His eyes drank you in, his lips parting with every inch of you he took in. And then you were bare before him, your legs spread once again, core soaked and dripping, your wetness making your pussy glisten in the low light of your room, sparkling for him as far as he was concerned. You were the most precious thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, his princess, a goddess he intended to dedicate his life to worshipping at the alter of.
Namjoon was looking at you like you were an angel fallen from heaven, eyes lost in wonder as he looked at your body, and you blushed, biting your lips and covering your face with your hands. You wanted to close your legs under his intense stare — not wanting him to stop, but feeling too shy under his gaze. You felt the bed dip, however, as Namjoon braced himself on one hand beside your head, his other hand taking one of your hands where you covered your face and bringing it up to his mouth, kissing your palm while maintaining unbroken eye contact.
“Y/N,” he murmured, moving your hand he’d just kissed to rest on his cheek. He stroked your hair back out of your face slowly, tilting his head as he just looked at you with a small smile. He moved his hand down to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your bottom lip as he spoke. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess. I’m gonna kiss your sweet little pussy, make love to you with my tongue, hear all the sweet sounds you make for me. Do you want that, pretty girl?”
You whimpered, nodding and biting your lip as you looked up at him.
“I don’t think I heard you, baby,” he teased, leaning in and just barely biting at the roundness of your cheek as you grinned and giggled under him. “Do you want me to do that?”
“Yes, Joonie,” you said, and he pressed one gentle kiss to your cheek before moving back down your body, your legs spreading for him again out of instinct.
Settling in between your legs, Namjoon put both hands on your thighs, his thumbs massaging slow circles as he looked between your face and your wet slit. He sighed happily, a dumb smile on his face, and even just his exhale hitting your wet clitoris had you tensing and biting your lip.
“Are you sensitive, baby?” he cooed before leaning in, breathing through his mouth slowly as he hovered just over your clitoris without touching it. He puckered his lips then, blowing cold air on your clit, and you cried out for him, both hands jumping to his hair and pulling.
“Namjoon,” you moaned, lifting your head and looking down at him. Seeing Namjoon between your legs, his mouth only an inch from where you were willing to beg him to touch you, had you moaning again.
“You smell so good, angel. Your pussy’s so pretty,” Namjoon said, letting you feel the breath of his words against your throbbing clitoris. He was enjoying this, a playful smile on his plush lips, and you decided you couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please, Joonie. I need you,” you said, tugging on his hair, and you knew that was all it would take to break him. He’d closed his eyes when you’d pulled his hair, biting his lip at the feeling and from being so close to you and hearing you like this.
Namjoon leaned in then without another word, licking a long, wide stripe from entrance to clit. You cried out, attempting to spread your thighs wider for him and lifting your legs, presenting yourself to him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding your legs in place like that up in the air, and licked you again, this time burying his face in between your legs and dipping his tongue inside you, moving his mouth like he was making out with your cunt.
Nobody had ever done anything like this to you. It felt better than you’d ever imagined, and you moaned loudly, louder than you’d ever been during sex, even under your own hand. His lips sucked up your wetness like he was trying to drink you, his tongue diving into your pussy and licking at your walls, fucking in and out of you like he’d promised.
You were certain the tip of his tongue was so deep it circled your cervix, the width of his wet, firm tongue making you squeeze down around him. His lips pressed around your entrance as he tried to move deeper, an obscene wet slurping sound filling the air as he sucked you up. When you pulled his hair, he growled like a territorial animal, burying his face in harder, the tip of his nose pressing against your folds. He was so intense, but every touch, every movement, every swirl of his tongue had you shivering, your back arching as you held onto his hair for your life.
“Joon, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your weak voice nearly unrecognizable to your own ears. “Please don’t stop…” You trailed off with a long moan as he moved up to your clit, sucking it between his soft lips and rolling it lazily with his tongue. He moaned back to you just so you could feel it against your clit, and you swore the sky opened up, the universe stopping as he worked his mouth on you.
One of his hands left your thigh, coming around as he circled your entrance with one fingertip.
“You’re so soft, baby. So wet, so perfect,” Namjoon said against your clit, his fingertip dipping in less than an inch, making you arch your back. You were drawn like a bow, completely in tune with every touch he gave you, desperate for him. You were willing to do anything for him, as long as he kept touching you like this.
“Your pussy tastes so sweet, princess. Better than I ever imagined.” As if to illustrate his point, Namjoon ducked his head again, pressing his tongue to your entrance and licking up along your folds, letting you feel the texture of his tongue as he moved in one slow motion. As he reached your clit, he slid his middle finger into you fully, curling it in a ‘come hither’ motion that had you repeating his name and nearly pulling his hair out.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he said, his deep voice sounding almost strained. He was enjoying this as much as you were, dying with each whimper of his name and tug on his hair. You looked down at him and nodded, pleading him with your eyes, but your head fell back against the mattress as he pulled his finger almost all the way out before sliding it back in again, this time with his ring finger as well. He moved his fingers slowly, seeking out your g-spot and stroking it when he found it, your back arching dramatically up off the bed as you yelled his name. You yanked his hair, pulling his face back against you, and he smiled, kissing your clit where his mouth was now firmly pressed.
“I feel you squeezing my fingers, pretty girl,” he said against your clit, his fingers still stroking so deep inside you. “You’re so tight, I don’t think I’m gonna last when my cock’s finally inside you.”
You figured he was trying to kill you, because he pulled his fingers out, making you whimper for him, only to slide three fingers fully back in, your cry turning into one long, loud moan that almost sounded like his name.
“F-fuck, god, Joon,” you moaned, feeling so wonderfully full and stretched open by him, your walls squeezing down on him so hard you swore you could feel the bumps of his knuckles inside you.
When he brought his mouth back to your clit, sucking on it lightly as his fingers worked, you thought you might die from the pure pleasure he was giving you, your breathing shaky, your legs squeezing around his head until he held one of them down with his free hand. An almost-disgusting wet sloshing sound hit your ears with each curl of his fingers, your wetness covering his hand, soaking him.
“Come all over my fingers, baby. I know you’re so close,” he cooed, and the moment he reattached his lips to your clit and suctioned as hard as he could, you did exactly as he said.
Your orgasm ripped through your body, your pussy squeezing his fingers almost painfully, your legs twitching, a quiet clicking sound escaping from your throat as you tried to breathe but couldn’t, your mouth open in a breathless gasp as your whole body shook. He didn’t stop, moving his fingers and lips steadily as he worked you through your earth-shattering orgasm, moving with you, his mouth attached to you as you writhed under him. You held onto him by his hair, the only thought your mind was capable of holding being how good he felt worshipping you like this, pumping electric pleasure into your body with every curl of his fingers and movement of his wicked tongue.
You released your first breath harshly, a moan escaping you so loudly, you were sure it shook the walls. You cried out when you felt Namjoon pull his fingers away, and cried out again when his mouth went to your entrance, sucking up your release like a man starving. He nuzzled in harder, pressing his whole face against you like he was trying to suffocate himself, his tongue moving inside you and licking at your walls while his lips sucked you clean.
Namjoon moaned into you between his obscene, messy slurps, your legs twitching from intense oversensitivity. He held onto your thighs with both hands, bobbing his head with each movement of your hips as he kept his plush lips attached to your cunt.
“Joonie, too much,” you cried out, and he immediately pulled back, climbing back up your body and hovering over you again, careful to keep his weight off of you.
“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, cupping your cheek with one hand while he pressed gentle kisses to the other side of your face, your wetness on his mouth and chin making you giggle and squirm away from him. He held onto you though, kissing your cheek and all over your face anyway, and you squealed in fake-disgust, your adorable laughter music to Namjoon’s ears.
“You did so good for me, baby. My good, precious, beautiful baby girl,” he praised, finally catching you and pressing one firm, wet kiss against your cheek. You smiled, loving being close to him like this. It felt so natural, like you’d done this together a thousand times, not like it was the first time he ever laid between your legs.
“I want you, Joonie. Want you inside me,” you said, reaching up to stroke back his hair where you’d been pulling earlier, now sticking out wildly.
His smile fell, his eyes losing their playfulness as he studied your expression.
“Are you sure, Y/N?” he said, taking in a slow breath as he looked back and forth between your eyes. “We don’t have to rush, sweetheart. You don’t have to say or do anything just because you think it’s what I want. I love you and want you more than anything, but I want you to feel comfortable and safe. That’s all that matters to me.”
You reached up and held his face with both hands. You weren’t sure how you’d gotten this lucky, to have such a wonderful man love you. You looked down at his mouth, seeing it glistening from your wetness, his lips slightly swollen from so many kisses. He parted his lips under your stare, watching the way you looked at him, and you leaned in and kissed him, your eyelashes tickling his cheeks as you closed your eyes.
“I want this, Joon,” you murmured against his lips. “If you want me.”
“Of course I want you,” he said, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours. “I’ll always want you. Always have.”
“Then show me,” you said, reaching down for his belt buckle, fumbling with it between your body and his. “I want you, Joonie. Please. I need you.”
Namjoon kicked off his pants the moment you undid his belt. Now in only his briefs, he pressed himself against your wet core, grinding his erection through the one final layer between you two as he claimed your lips in a deep kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and you moaned at that and the feeling of his thick, hard erection, your wet core soaking his briefs.
“Condom?” he said against your mouth, his breathing ragged and hand firm on your hip as he started to let himself get worked up.
“Table,” you said, glancing up to your left at your bedside table. Namjoon reached up, pulling the drawer out quickly in his frantic search, accidentally pulling it out completely and dropping it to the floor in surprise. You giggled, burying your face in against his neck.
“Sorry, baby,” he said, moving off of you and sitting on the side of the bed as he picked up one of the condom wrappers and slid off his briefs.
Your breath nearly caught in your throat when you saw his cock bounce up against his stomach, so hard and needy from his infinite teasing. He’d felt big grinding against you, but god, he was huge. You could see a thick vein wrapping around the underside, the mushroom head dark red from his need. He was decently long, but fuck, Namjoon’s cock was so fucking thick.
“Fuck, Joon, you’re a monster,” you said, and he looked back at you, one eyebrow raised. He smiled when he saw you blatantly staring at his erection, actually blushing in his shyness.
You looked up at his face, swallowing hard. “Is it bad that it turns me on so much, thinking about how you’re better than him in literally every way? And I do mean every way,” you said, glancing down at his cock again, and Namjoon laughed, covering his face with one hand.
“Well, hopefully in a minute, you won’t be thinking about him at all,” Namjoon said, and you couldn’t help biting your lip in anticipation.
“Is that so?” you said, a smug smile teasing at the corners of your lips.
“It is,” he said. He opened the condom packet with his teeth, throwing the wrapper at the broken drawer on the ground and sliding the rubber down his length. Turning back toward you, Namjoon moved to his knees, laying back between your legs that spread and wrapped around him. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, my name will be the only thing you can think of.”
You giggled, finding his words cheesy, even though you knew he was more than capable of keeping his promises. Your laughter died in your throat, though, when you felt him rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, circling it before moving up to rub against your clit.
“Fuck,” you sighed, grabbing at his shoulders, bracing yourself and attempting to pull him closer with your legs.
“Are you ready, baby?” Namjoon said, his beautiful deep voice making your eyes fall closed and thighs spread further as he lined himself up with your entrance. You nodded, but Namjoon touched the tip of his nose to yours, stroking your hair back from your face with the hand of the arm he was bracing himself on. “Tell me out loud, princess.”
“I’m ready, Joon. I want you so bad, I love you, I need—”
He cut you off by pushing in, not even halfway, but the stretch had you crying out and digging your fingernails into his skin.
“F-fuck, god,” Namjoon moaned, pressing his face in against your neck, his breath warm on your skin. You felt yourself squeezing him in pulses completely unconsciously as your pussy adjusted to his thick size, stretching for him, taking him. “Mmm, god, you’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s so perfect, baby.”
“You’re so big, Joonie. Feels so good,” you said, bringing one hand up to knot in his hair again, just how you now knew he liked it. Namjoon groaned at the feeling and your praise, rocking his hips slowly as he eased into you another inch, pacing himself glacially slow at first as you got used to him. His hand he’d used to line himself up with your entrance was now on your thigh, holding your body to his as he eased in further.
You felt his hips press to yours as he bottomed out, both of you gasping at how tight you were around him. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim; you swore the head of his cock was in your guts. You shifted your hips, attempting to somehow take him even further, but he stilled you, his hands holding your body perfectly still. You realized his breathing was fast, his forehead pressed against your neck, his whole body still as he tried to remain in control and not lose himself too quickly.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, kissing your collarbone. “You take me so well, baby. Feels better than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”
You stroked his hair, feeling as his breathing drew steadier as he calmed himself down and regained his composure. You could feel yourself and Namjoon both throbbing where your bodies joined, your heartbeats matching up, and you needed him to move.
“Joonie, please,” you sighed, squeezing him with your arms and legs as you tried to roll your hips under him.
Namjoon groaned, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, just hard enough to make your breasts bounce from the movement under Namjoon’s chest. He moved his hand to your back, wrapping his arm around you so that you arched up into him, changing the angle just enough that the next time he rocked his hips, he hit the spot inside you that made you cry out in ecstasy, the same spot he’d left his fingerprints on when fingering you so thoroughly. He chased after that spot, rolling his hips and picking up his pace until you could hear the audible, graphic sounds of skin smacking against wet skin and his cock thrusting so perfectly inside your drenched cunt.
Each time Namjoon entered you, it felt like he was somehow hitting even deeper and harder. You held onto him by his hair, your other hand scratching down his back as you moaned his name in his ear, over and over and over with each of his hard thrusts. He was sweating now, his skin glistening from it, sweat nearly dripping off of him, his hair feeling wet from it, and you wanted to lick him clean. You felt like you could smell his pheromones in the air, released with his sweat, and you swore you’d never been more attracted to him than this moment. He was pure, raw sex. He moaned and growled as he fucked you, holding your body to him, and you grasped at his shoulders, feeling his hot, flushed skin moving under your fingernails, the taut muscles in his back tensing and moving as he worked so hard.
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he moaned, his arm wrapped around you pulling you up toward him harder. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N…”
You felt so small under his large, manly body, but in a good way; you felt like he could put you in his pocket, carry you around and keep you safe forever. You loved how sexy he was; his deep voice, his big hands, his large, muscular, sweaty body. You loved hearing him call you his baby, his princess, all the loving names he came up with. You loved how good he was to you, how he treated you with kindness and love and respect and care. He made you feel safe and loved, and he was yours and you were his.
Nothing else existed in this moment besides Namjoon and the pleasure he gave you. The whole universe was just the two of you in your bed, making love, your bodies fusing and becoming one. His hips smacked against yours, and you heard him as he breathed hard, letting out short moans every few thrusts, his breathing muffled against your neck. You were so close again already, your moans becoming desperate, needy pleas, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, your mind entering near-delirium as you clawed at his back and pulled his hair so hard it tilted his head back.
His cock had to be hitting your cervix with every hard thrust. You felt him in your guts, his thick girth stretching you out, your thighs burning from your exertion just taking him. He was too fucking good, and you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to the knife’s edge. You’d never felt anything this good, pleasure building up inside you like a dam about to burst.
“Come for me, please, baby. God, please,” Namjoon moaned, and you realized he was begging you, smacking his hips to yours as hard as he could.
Namjoon shifted then, bracing himself on the arm underneath you now and bringing his other hand down to grip your thigh, raising it higher around his waist. He pounded into you, and you came in a silent scream, your body tensing under him as you held onto him, your orgasm so much more intense than your previous, more overwhelming that anything you’d ever felt. Your brain, lungs, and pussy felt like they were being split open in the most wonderful way, your body blooming like a flower under his radiance.
You felt yourself gushing, the feeling unfamiliar, warm, and wet, and Namjoon let out the loudest moan you’d heard from him yet, looking down between your bodies as he kept moving.
“God, are you fucking squirting? Jesus Christ, baby, that’s so fucking hot,” he groaned, his fingertips digging into your skin where he held you.
“What?” you said breathlessly, barely even aware of your surroundings at this point, your brain and body so thoroughly spent. You took in shaky breaths, gasping for air as you came down from your high, and you realized what he’d said and how your pussy was now a fucking flood zone, and you couldn’t make yourself care. You were both covered in his sweat and your cum, the feeling messy and filthy and so fucking good, and Namjoon held you to him so tight as your legs twitched in overstimulation, his pace steady as he chased after his own high.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he groaned, moaning with each whimper you released. “You feel so good, baby. God, you’re so fucking sexy, I’m so close.”
As he continued thrusting into you, you saw flashes of your life with him through the fog of your post-orgasm haze — when your parents used to let you have sleepovers when you were both little, sharing a single bed before it meant anything. Kissing his cheek in the treehouse your father built for you when you were nine, both of you being too shy to ever speak of it again. Sitting on the bus together every day on the way to school, sleeping on his shoulder because you always stayed up too late. Going to prom together when you had nobody else. Cuddling on each other’s dorm beds and watching movies late on school nights. It had always been Namjoon. Loving him was as natural to you as breathing, a choice you’d never had to make yourself, though you knew you’d choose him every time.
You felt his thrusts becoming sloppy, his body shaking as he groaned against your neck, and you knotted your hand in his hair again, squeezing your legs around him. “Joonie,” you called to him, your voice a soft whimper. “Come for me, Joon, I want to feel you.”
Hearing his nickname now made him cry out, his hips bucking as his mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he finally came. He spilled inside the condom, his hips jerking as he tried to keep moving, and you could feel his cock twitching so deep inside you. You wished you could feel the warmth of his seed spreading inside your core, but you knew that step was for another time, somewhere in the long future you had ahead of you.
“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he groaned between his deep breaths, his hips grinding slowly against yours as he tried to stay inside you as deep as he could. He kissed your cheek, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth as he kept speaking. “I love you, I love you, I love you, forever. Always have, angel. We were made to love each other.”
You pictured for just a split moment the awkward, adorable boy you’d grown up with, now the large, loving, perfect man between your legs, kissing your skin lazily as he just barely held himself up, his body heavy from his post-orgasm exhaustion. After all this time, Namjoon’s body felt like home. You were exactly where you belonged, where you were always meant to be, safe in his arms, sheltered from anything by his love. No matter what happened, you had him. You always had.