Knj X You - Tumblr Posts

Written in the Pages (RM) CH6

𝄆 Jungkook POV 𝄇

"Guys! Guys!" I huff.

"Woah, where'd you go man?" Hoseok questions.

"And why are you breathing so hard?" Taehyung jokes.

"I.. Y/N..."

Namjoon jumps up, "Y/N? What happened with Y/N?"

"She went to the bathroom, and I followed her, and, and those girls," I heave, "they were trash talking us and then they started bullying Y/N, she must have been hiding from them, and then they left and she was crying and-"

"I'm going to find her" Namjoon growls.

Suddenly, she strides up to the table. Grabbing her stuff, she bows to us, "thank you for lunch. I have to go now." Her eyes are puffy and her face is red from obvious crying.

"No, no no no." Namjoon pulls her to face him, "you don't look okay. We heard what happened. We-"

"It's fine. I'll see you around." She starts to walk away.

"Hyung, maybe-"

He bolts after her. They both exit the cafeteria. I turn to the rest of the boys, their faces showing equally confused expressions.

𝄆 Y/N POV 𝄇

I run into the library, the only place where I know I can be alone. Except I'm not. As I approach my favorite table in the back, Namjoon is still trailing behind me.

"I said it's fine."

"It's not fine" he says, "I don't know what they said, but I know they hurt you. And I never want to see anyone hurt you."

"Why do you care?" I sneer, "You guys aren't actually friends with me. I'm just your charity case. You don't want me around."

"Don't say that!" He cries, "I care because I lo-"

"Save me the pain." I whimper, "save me the pain of knowing you'll never feel to me how I feel about you."

As if on cue, the bell rings.

"I have to go, Namjoon. Just forget about it. I'll work on forgetting my feelings, and we can all just move on."

𝄆 Namjoon POV 𝄇

She walks back to her class. I stay frozen in the library, orange sun painting the shelves.

"But I don't want to move on."

Written in the Pages (RM) CH7

𝄆 Namjoon POV 𝄇

"So she must like you back! What else would she mean by 'feelings'?"

"You don't get it," I grumble, "she isn't interested in me anymore. She doesn't want to hear from me."

"How oblivious can you be?" Yoongi jokes, "they must have said something that made her think we don't want her around. She's clearly just insecure, so why don't you show her how much she means to you?"

I ponder that for a moment, "how would I do that?"

"We should write a song for her!" Jimin pipes up.

𝄆 𝄞 𝄇

𝄆 Y/N POV 𝄇

It's been a week since I've heard from Namjoon. It may sound ridiculous, but part of me had hoped he would continue to try and talk to me. I guess he gave up, just like that.

I walk home slowly, feet trudging against the cobblestones I once skipped on. Along the way, I see the two girls from earlier chattering. they walk in the opposite direction, snickering at a glance of me.

I pull my hood over my head and try to walk faster. eventually, I arrive back home. The silence pulls me in, no one to laugh at me now. I don't understand, things were so much less complicated before Namjoon. Yet somehow, I still feel the thrills. Him talking to me gives me enough energy to do anything.

Then I remember the words from earlier. "They must be doing it as a joke, they would never sit with someone like her on purpose." And my heart sinks again.  I'm tired of this. I'm tired of trying to figure out if he likes me as more than a friend just to be hit with the rejection of a punchline. I'm tired. I'm tired of trying to prove myself to people who don't care.

I need to love myself. Not the version others see. I need to focus on myself, and I can't do that if I'm trying to swim in pools too deep for me. Trying to date someone I can never have.

Trying to find myself in people who aren't me.

a knock on the door pulls me from my monologue. I open it without checking the peekhole.

"Y/N, thank god you answered. I need to talk to you. I know you don't want to listen to me, but please just hear me out. please" Namjoon begs from the doorway.

"How do you know where I live?"

"I.. I followed you home, I'm sorry, can I please come in?"

"You followed me home?" I demanded.

"Yes I,.. look I know this sounds bad but please just give me a chance. I can explain everything."

Sighing in defeat, I pull the door open wider and let him in. Leading him to the couch, he speaks before I can even ask.

"Okay. So, when you left that day at lunch, Jungkook had followed you to make sure you were okay. He filled me in on what they said and everything and I just want you to know  that I truly do care about you. We all do. And I wouldn't pretend to be friends with someone as a joke, the only person who would do that is someone like those two girls who I rejected. I need you to know all this before I continue."

"Okay, well, thank you for saying that Namjoon." I force a smile, "but continue with what?"

"What I've been hiding from you for the past week," He replies. He takes his phone from his pocket, pulling up an app and pressing play. Suddenly, a song begins to play.

He softly starts to sing, "Just one day, if I can be with you

Just one day, if I can hold your hands

Just one day, if I can be with you

Just one day

If only we can be together"

The music fades out. He brushes his hand next to mine on the couch, slowly intertwining his fingers with mine. I let him.

"Y/N, I have been pining after you for so long. If you don't feel the same, I understand... but I wanted you to know. Since last spring, I've been admiring you. Your hair, your smile, the way you talk and the words you choose, how you treat people with kindness, your quiet demeanor, everything. I'm obsessed with everything about you. And..."

He pauses and I can feel his hands sweat from nerves as he fidgets.

"I'm in love with you."

No One Else (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 5.0kish

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n/Reader

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, semi-clothed sex, creampie, biting, groping, pinching, slapping, kissing (tongue and other), aggressive Namjoon, jealousy, possessive undertones, rough/intense sex, orgasms (yours and his), squirting (implied), hair pulling, scratching, cuddling, softness (at the end), rich Namjoon/CEO Namjoon elements, Established (early) relationship stuff

Genre: PWP, Established Relationship

AUs: CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: Namjoon is a man who gets what he wants. Nothing is out of his reach. You find out what happens when he thinks someone else might get something that should be his. It brings out a side of him you never knew existed.

Author’s Note:

For my sis @worldwideseal

This is a standalone story from the CEO AU and isn't the same CEO Namjoon from previous stories, although there are some of the same elements (established relationship).

Thank you for reading. If you liked it, feel free to comment. If you reblog, it's also very much appreciated but not required.

Tags: @askkrisachan @kiestrokes

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

The penthouse door shut behind you and Namjoon’s footsteps followed shortly after. 

Although the foyer hall was dark, you knew it well enough to identify every single shape like you’d lived there for years. You’d certainly leaned into the comfort and confidence of accepting that you did in fact live here. It was as official as could be: you’d gotten a couple bills and updated your mailing address.

It didn’t get any more real than that. 

As you wandered past the tall mirror mounted on the wall, you glanced at yourself, enjoying the site of your legs in the heels chosen for the night: slightly taller stilettos that made your legs look as long as you’d always wanted. 

It was that much better hearing Namjoon’s dress shoes pacing at your back. You finally slowed at the end of the hall, facing the den unfolding before your eyes. Based on the warmth suddenly rising at your back, Namjoon had stopped just behind you. 

His breath grazing your shoulder only confirmed the fact a moment later. His words chased the fading wisps when he spoke. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

Whatever reason he was asking, you hid your confusion and smiled, noting the far off night sky through the massive picture windows framing the room across the way. The night sky looked surreal this high up. Living in one of the tallest buildings in the center of a bustling city had its perks–and this one was high on your list. 

“Yes.” You whispered. A beat passed.

Namjoon’s lips pressed your skin then slid towards the outside of one shoulder and departed just there. “Good.” He murmured.

Another moment slipped between the silence that followed.

“..It was nice to show you off.” 

Hearing him say that ALWAYS felt amazing, and Namjoon never seemed to get tired of announcing it. You often suspected that was the whole reason he insisted you come along to these events.

Gatherings. Galas. Whatever they were, whenever they happened, it was almost a guarantee he’d send you a message ahead of time with a save the date notice. 

Which was followed by a visit to his tailor for fittings. Beautiful dresses that you’d never imagined being in, customized to your shape. Emphasizing what you had and making you feel like a model. A goddess. 

Skin treatments that had you smelling like heaven and glowing like an angel come to earth. You couldn’t get enough. The hours of prep was always worth the end result: eyes on you.

Attention of the most surprisingly good kind. It was a wonderful change you’d grown into with this relationship.

For once sensing eyes on you from all directions didn’t scream ‘be on guard’. It lifted you. Pumped your ego and fed it to a healthy size. 

You always came back to a single home truth: the only eyes you really desired belonged to Namjoon. His stare was what you craved. Dined on, when it was served. 

Like he’d done earlier tonight, all through the drive over. In steely silence, city lights washing features and his jaw muscle writhing. From next to you at the banquet hall table, shoulder to shoulder among his friends and associates. 

And just like now: when you turned and spotted his gaze leveled your way again. There was something amiss in the sparkle there, beaming from those narrowing eyes. 

“What?” You scoffed playfully, offering a coquettish pose, fanning lashes at him. Your lips pursed just a little and Namjoon’s own thinned into a very taut smile. 

One that you’d seen after many unpleasant work meetings or a particularly busy work day. He did move a lot of money so his mood could be mercurial. 

Nerves rising a little, sending goosebumps along your skin, you straightened a bit, waiting for him to speak. But Namjoon didn’t. He waited just long enough to break the silence, right when your lips parted to speak.

“What did you think of him?”

“Him.” You repeated, now fully turned to face Namjoon. He was slow, tugging each cuff of his suit jacket sleeves and sliding arms out one after the other. Even in spite of the broad shouldered design of the garment, Namjoon shedding it did little to diminish his stature. 

This man managed to look just as broad. Except now the more fitted shape of his dress shirt thoroughly outlined his triangular shape. As if you needed the reminder he was spending more and more time at the gym in the mornings. 

Like it wasn’t enough he could destroy you as he was if he never stepped foot in there again, but that wasn’t enough for him. Namjoon cared about his body and keeping it ready to work at peak performance. He didn’t just keep his mind sharp. He kept every muscle ready. Trained. 

He wanted the best and he did not sit back until it came to him. He chased it down, made it his own. Just like he’d done to you.

The way he stepped closer after hanging the jacket on a nearby wall hook shrank the air around you. This room’s high ceiling wouldn’t stop you if your soul departed and sailed up with the energy of a rocket off the launch pad. 

You swallowed, chest dangerously tight. That was easy enough to ignore–you had to or you’d panic. 

“Him?” You repeated, letting all the confusion and nervousness out in this single word. 

It didn’t change that slowly deepening glare that had taken residence on Namjoon’s face.

“Him.” He grunted, tone like granite. And just as warm. Now he was within reach, chest puffing. His fingers found your chin, tracing the shape, then circled and held tight. Slowly he tipped your face up so he could see you clearly. 

Knowing Namjoon was looking into your eyes, there wouldn’t be any way to retreat because you couldn’t look away, no matter how hard you tried. 

“The man who was talking to you by the champagne fountain.” 

Your mind scrambled backwards in the evening, combing over every mundane detail. Things you might have missed, down to the color of the salad fork and the way Namjoon had unfolded his napkin and laid it on his lap.

The big, plump warmth of his palm on your thigh there, under the table. The way it climbed slowly until you’d almost choked on a mouthful of red wine between courses. Just before you’d gone to the dancefloor. 

“Oh.” The admitting came in a low wheeze from your lips. You resisted licking them, lest you ruin the lipstick you’d purchased just for this evening. 

Namjoon released your chin. Smiling, he leaned closer. It was hard to see that smile didn’t go further than the apples of his cheeks because you’d never seen it directed at you. He was not pleased. 

“Yes.” He cooed but it was a rumble. From deep in that broad chest. The buttons of his shirt looked like they were as stressed as you felt. His free hand was at the top button, popping it open. “..Him. What did you think of him?” 

“You want me to say something specific, then tell me.” You replied. Playing mind games with Namjoon was dangerous when he was in a mood like this. It couldn’t have gone well for anyone who tried it in the world of business and you were far more woefully underskilled to even begin trying. 

You’d be crushed like a bug. 

Namjoon’s smile stayed. He opened a second button. More skin came into view, the v shape of parting shirt material widening. Tempting your attention and the beginnings of a sweet ache much further below your navel. 

“I just want the truth.” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“I know you wouldn’t, Y/n. Which is why I trust that I can ask you and get the answer.”

“I can’t make something up. I just said—” You sputtered weakly and Namjoon’s finger drew a rail of fire down your lips,heading for the center divot at the base of your throat. You were helpless as your head lolled backwards. 

The ceiling was all you could see, starlight making a white aura there as his touch stopped and he traced a spiral there just near one collarbone. His lips feathered your neck on one side and your knees shook.

He growled. Sank teeth gently to pinch just a bit of skin. So careful that you knew it could be so much more dangerous than he was letting it become. And you knew HE knew how much this turned you on. The danger contained and wielded by such a powerful man like Namjoon Kim.

Beyond-billionaire. Earned his stripes and his reputation. Earned the privacy and mystery of his success and the corners of his life he kept locked up tight. You’d only just gotten into the inner circle but there were doors you knew were still closed. 

Especially when it came to his appetites. You’d never thought that you could walk around on this earth feeling perpetually wet like Namjoon had you doing since you became serious. 

Your knees locked as you drew in a deep breath. Instead of helping, your head spun. 

“So don’t. The truth gets MUCH better rewards than lies,my sweet. Unless..” He dragged a finger over the wet spot where his teeth had been, then massaged into the depression left. You bit back a moan. 

“...Unless you like that kind of thing? Are you that type? Do you like to be punished, Y/n? I know we’re still learning about each other–we’ve got a long way to go. But I wouldn’t mind knowing that. I can oblige if you’re into going through it. Wouldn’t be my first time.” 

Oh my god. The ceiling wobbled and you blinked. Shaking your head had you unsteady in the heels you’d managed to strut successfully in most of the night. Good thing it didn’t last long before the ceiling stilled again. 

Namjoon moved onto your shoulders, bringing one finger under the stress strap and tugging it aside. It fell down to your bicep. The tickle was so intense you almost shuddered. Everything was so alive with Namjoon so close. 

Having him in your life had EVERYTHING much brighter and more fresh, so this should stop being a surprise, and yet…

After he guided the other strap down and it was hanging the same way on the other side, Namjoon’s eyes came into view after he cupped the back of your head and pulled it upright. Placing your attention solidly where he wanted. Getting his way.

Exactly what he deserved. 

The only remaining sign of his former smile were two dangerously thin pink lines, even tighter than you felt. 

“Are you that type?” He was speaking so low and quiet, forcing you to strain beyond your thundering heart just to hear. 

“I’m not.” 

“..Mmmhm.” He barely nodded. Something entered his eyes–a new kind of flame. Flickering and hungry. Was that …jealousy? Namjoon’s lips parted and his forehead barely touched yours. He spoke again. 

“Then tell me what you thought of him.” He wasn’t going to let this go.

At least you’d finally remembered who he was talking about: some nice older man from your trip to the champagne fountain while Namjooon made his social rounds. One of the only moments he’d left your side. 

An exotically handsome man. With an accent thick enough you mostly understood and pieced together what he’d asked. Basic questions. A compliment, and his reaching for your earring–the 24k dangling drop with a real pearl at the center. 

He’d been brief in his conversation and your gut dropped when you remembered the man leaning close to speak in your ear and whispering his compliment on the accessory. It wasn’t a long conversation and enough people had been around, you hadn’t realized Namjoon was still aware enough to see. 

But he had. His sneering smile slowly opened the door to whatever lurked underneath his composure as he waited.

Two of his fingers walked right down the center of your chest, stopping at the top of your dress, where it dipped low between the swells of both breasts, then curved into a hook shape. 

“I didn’t..” Your lips shook. It was a bleating plea. No room to feel pathetic or weak. You meant it so much right now.

The plea in your eyes hit whatever wall was up in his mind. Namjoon smirked a little, heat rolling from his flaring nostrils with the sound. 

Your body jerked forward as he pulled away, dragging you with him. You barely kept up, stumbling along, heels dangerously unsteady as you both moved towards the hallway. It never seemed so long, passing doors as you plodded along, going from marble to tile to carpet, paving the way to the last door at the very end.

Namjoon only let go to reach forward and open the door. He pushed a little with one palm, then stepped aside and jerked his chin towards the inner chamber. 

You moved over the threshold. Just like he’d done with the front door, Namjoon shut the bedroom door. Even so, closed off from the rest of the place, this room was massive and always felt that way. Day or night, it didn’t matter. This space was just as big as everywhere else here. 

Namjoon wasn’t about to live small. He demanded room and made his own, no apologies. 

You turned around, seeing his form striding for the closet. Without looking at you, Namjoon was at work, stripping his shirt off. It fell to the floor as a crumpled heap. His hands went to his belt as he stood in the open closet doorway. 

It was like he’d felt your hands rising to the back of your dress, arms twisting and fumbling to find your dress zipper. His words were ice, cutting across the darker space. 

“Don’t you dare. Face the bed. Bend over, palms flat.” 

Your eyes opened wider but you turned away and did as told. You hear the sounds of hangers moving along the rails in the closet. He disappeared then, the sound of material rustling coming from around the door that blocked your sight. 

Forever seemed to pass as you stared at the headboard further up, so many pillows arranged neatly. Almost nearly perfect. Namjoon was no slouch in housekeeping efforts either. His cleaners knew their standard and never slipped an inch.

A hard squeeze on one ass cheek, through the material of your dress made your thighs tense. You went up on toes and your ankles threatened to quit entirely. Fingers curled into the perfectly smooth bed sheets. Your nails dug deep into the cool surface, sending an ache through the first knuckles on every finger. 

Your lips retreated from your teeth as you sucked air through. “Joon..” You whined. Heat rushed through your folds, daggering right up into your center. You felt the rush of pressure and warmth building just behind your seal. 

Namjoon’s laugh behind you was long and faded. His single slap was hard. A little bit more pain than pleasure and you took it, eyes rolling a little. You quickly focused on a single pillow at the center of the collection directly ahead. 

“Love it when you say my name.” His fingers pinched. Groped a solid handful of your cheek and kneaded. He let go and the ache stayed there for a few seconds. “..You remember his name too?” 

“No.” You spat out. Even if you did you wouldn’t have said it for all the money in the world. You wanted to forget you’d even met this guy, whomever he was, that Namjoon suddenly couldn’t think about anything but that stranger. 

“No?” Another snicker and Namjoon’s fingers traced the hem of your dress and tugged it up over your ass. He bunched the material around your lower back. You wanted to feel shame but the fire didn’t stay at your face, it ran right down to your pussy. 

“Please.” You began. A low moan came out when Namjoon ran the back of a knuckle across the crotch of your panties.

“So hot, kitten. Is that me..or him?” 

“Namjoon..” You whined now, thighs openly shaking. Your knees bent briefly and you struggled, straightening them again. Your ass jerked and Namjoon kissed the small of your back. 

“Don’t you hear me? I’m talking to you. You weren’t noticing me when he was next to you.”

You had so many things you wanted to say–every word bottlenecking at the back of your lips. You worked, chewing invisible sounds but nothing made it out. It was peak frustration borne of the pinnacle of arousal. 

And it was going to burn you alive. Namjoon was quite clearly happy to see you spinning so far out of control while he was slowly gathering the reins. 

His monologuing continued as he followed both sides of the cotton center panel with a pointer finger, debating which side to move first. As if it was a when, not an if. Time warped, extending into the unknowable future as you waited. Suffered. Found it harder to focus on anything but survival. 

The sheets under your palms warmed and sank a little deeper when your weight listed forward. A knee rutted the inside of your right thigh, hinting. ‘Spread’ wasn’t said in a word, just in that action.

“Seeing him close to you made me realize something. I’m a jealous man. I want what’s mine. What’s mine…is MINE. I don’t share. Why should I have to? Is that impractical, Y/n?”

You couldn’t speak still, lips twisting. Your eyes rushed with wet heat. Shock was filling you to the top–you’d never been so emotional over desire in your life until now. Whatever was happening, you needed Namjoon to make it all disappear. To imagine he was somehow misunderstanding a casual conversation this much…

But you’d never plunged this far into the depths of a dark enjoyment: having someone so into you they were being unreasonable by more and more measure. You, a woman so desired that a man this powerful would be so swept up to lose some semblance of control. 

He could have it ALL–every inch of you. Whatever he’d ask in trade, let him take it all. Crush it in his big, strong fist. And let him put that same hand around your neck. Squeeze until you can't think or feel. Until the resistance that might be there flowed out, like the last breaths and the high that promised to rush through you at that perfect moment…

You came back to reality with Namjoon tracing something warm and blunt along your sex. It was heavy, the thump when he slapped it against you. That impact made you jump.

Your ankle rolled and you whimpered, kicking that heel off. The other went too, shooting across the carpet and ending up somewhere in the dark, chased by Namjoon’s giggle. 

“I know…it’s so much, isn’t it? But…I’m not being totally crazy, am I?” He pushed against you, his belly brushing over your ass and the pressure over you increasing as the blunt shape nosed hard into your folds. You realize: it was the tip of his cock and it was fat. 

Your senses dulled and the world grayed as you nearly fainted in need. “N..no. You…want…it..” It was hard to even hear your own voice, tinny and breathless in the dim space ahead. No need to finish your thought. He did it for you. 

“---I do want it. I want YOU. You’re mine…aren’t you?” A hand clapped over your other hip and he pulled you into his rolling hips. His cock brushed against the inside of your thigh, silky hot. Burning to the touch.

Your arms trembled and you let your face touch the sheets with a pained moan. Namjoon wound his free hand through your hair and pulled you right back up.

“Stay there. Listen to me when I’m talking to you. Couldn’t hear me there.. You hear me now, don’t you?” Cool air washed over your pussy as the panties slid to the side and took your seal with it, breaking you open. 

The head of his cock bulldozed through your flesh, spreading the slick. He used a single, spiraling stroke to coat himself and leaned back enough to seat his tip right inside of you, then leaned forward, pulling your head back to bring you into his stroke. 

It was white sparks showering through your closed eyes as he filled you up. Your walls bloomed in tightness as they filled. Stretched. Expanded to take in every inch of this thick cock pushing into you until his belly met your ass. 

When he was hilted, Namjoon tugged your hair again, firmer. Growled and let his head roll back. Pulled back just enough, then snapped his hips. Still speaking, he set a pace–a stroke every second. Not wasting time or waiting around like he’d done hours ago. 

In the elevator.

The car. 

In line to get into this dinner. 

In line to get a drink, with you against his side, demurely, fingers wound through his own and greedily choking on his cologne. 

Wetness oozed from deep inside, cresting the outer edge of your pussy lips as he drove in harder. Began to really heave with each forward thrust. 

“This..I bet he was thinking about this.. But it isn’t his. He couldn’t see or touch this–could he Y/n? You wouldn’t bend over his bed like this. You wouldn’t spread wide open and take every inch for him, would you?”

Even if he demanded you play along and answer, your body rocked and jerked so hard as he fucked you that the words would have been jostling too. Lost bouncing up your throat if they even made it to your lips. 

The grip on your hip tightened and nails scraped your skin there, leaving stinging that melted into nothing as seconds passed, overlapped by the slapping sound of your skin meeting his. The bed began to tremble when Namjoon went harder. 

You couldn’t hold it back anymore, ass raising up and head dropping,letting your face crush against the fresh cold of the sheet's surface. Your makeup made a rainbow of colors, the color of your lipstick leaving streaks below that you only glimpsed before your eyes shut again as a clamp seized your insides. Chills rushed through you, pushing out a warning moan–he was getting you close. 

You were going to cum. And it was going to be hard.

Whether or not he was actually aware, Namjoon continued to pound away at you, snarling–muttering something you couldn’t hear. Squeezing your skin so hard vessels burst underneath. He slapped and pinched, the sting biting through the ecstasy. 

“J..Jooonieee.” You keened, head heavy and turning, giving you a chance to turn your profile to one side and suck in a much needed lungful of air. You could taste his scent. Taste that cologne. Namjoon made some belly deep sound behind you.

His weight fell into you as he pushed your body onto the bed, forcing you into a prone position. Now his thrusting went from forward and back to almost straight up and down. Dunking into you, sinking down hard and rising up. Like a piston into the ground, pulling up oil. Pumping for the desired fluid, relentlessly steady. 

It was no use. Namjoon stabbed his cock deep and stayed there with a boom of pleasure. 

The clench came again and your body vibrated. Your hands clenched at sheets, tugging them towards you in desperation. Trying to pull away a little and find some moment of relief. To think a little.

Most fruitlessly of all: to save yourself against the rushing inevitability on your heels. 

“Fuck baby..You feel so good…” Barked at you this time, loud like he didn’t care to remember where he was. And if he did? He gave no fucks because it was all about what he wanted and how close it was to being in his grasp. 

He felt you within his reach, like his hand rising from your hip to your throat to grip tight, and his weight along your back as he barely planked.

You weren’t escaping.

You were trapped and you were exactly where you belonged. 

“C..close. Ple…please..Don’t..”

“What is it?” Namjoon’s tone dripped in evil. In such an offensive pretend innocence, the way he nudged at your few remaining senses.

You barely blinked, just at the edge. Ekeing out a the few words you could to warn. To beg, one last time.

“--He can’t be me. He can’t stop me. NO one takes what’s mine. THIS is mine..” The pumping started, hard and furious as Namjoon lips found your ear. 

Like he wasn’t pounding your insides into nothing but a creamy mess. He fucked into you with angry strokes. Going deep. Into your guts. Almost into your lungs.

Your throat, where his fingers circled and squeezed more. You barely gasped out the last remains of air, eyes rolling so hard it was static graywash as the orgasm hit. 

You seized under him as Namjoon pulled back and gave a few more strokes before you squeezed so tight he couldn’t move. He fell against you with a satisfied grunt, feeling you convulse and squeeze. Your pussy rippled, sending spastic ripples down the length of his thick cock. 

Namjoon ground into you as he rode out the high, then stirred himself until he shuddered.

“Make me cum..” He breathed, growling again in a long, creaking exhale as he did just that, hips blanching from how hard they pushed into your ass until he was done. Namjoon’s weight fell onto you completely as he took time to recover himself. 

Eventually he came away enough and your hair slid free from his fingers, falling across the sweating span of your shoulders. The room air washed across your skin, giving much needed air a chance to cool you off. 

You laid there until your eyes opened, then turned your face the other way, barely spotting one of Namjoon’s naked palms digging into the mattress near your head.

He leaned down enough to look into your eyes. The bridge of his nose was glittery. His temples and brow fared the same but Namjoon didn’t seem to notice. 

Instead he offered a pleased grin. Both dark browns rose. “Still with me, Y/n? Here..look at me.” 

Right now doing that took every ounce of energy you could muster. And that wasn’t much. Your ass clenched with the occasional aftershocks in your pussy. As your hips shifted you felt the dampness under your mound. It was a sizable circle that spread almost wide enough to both hips. 

“I..” You licked your lips, then tried again. “...I..came.”

“Did you?” Namjoon winked. How he still had any ability to be upright was sending you right now. It must have looked like you’d been shot, the way you just posed there on the bed, boneless. Feeling weak and wasted. 

Dick drunk. The very definition.

Whatever his jealousy had inspired, Namjoon had done well above whatever he needed to do to prove himself to whatever his name was. You could barely remember anyone from hours ago, let alone the man he’d fixated on. Maybe that was how he’d wanted and planned it. 

Namjoon stripped your dress off your body and peeled the panties away. Seeing the soaked panel earned another laugh. 

“I love the mess you made..” He praised, bunching your panties up and brushing them over his nose and lips. A moment later he tossed them up the bed and your dress followed. Your heels rolled across the carpet, just in view off the bed. 

Namjoon’s body melted into the bed next to you and he rolled onto his side. You were still fairly helpless as hands found you and turned you over to one side, facing him. As you gazed at Namjoon from lids raised to a pathetic minimum, he watched your face.

And he did it for a long time. Long enough your blinks started to last longer and longer. Fatigue crawled into your mind, pushing out any thoughts and making conversation an impossible and unnecessary thing. By the placid expression you kept coming back to when you could open your eyes, Namjoon didn’t mind. In fact, maybe it was that he expected this result. 

When fingers traced your temple and stroked through your hair slowly, it sealed your fate. You yawned and it ended in a fitfully weak moan. 

Namjoon caught your hand against his chest and pulled it up to his lips, kissing the curled fingers, then opening them to lay your open palm against his cheek. 

“Mine.” He murmured. 

You nodded. Or it might have been a dream. But it felt so real. Like his kisses, each one following your nose down. He kissed you deep and slow, taking his time, letting his tongue explore your mouth for a little bit before he pulled back. 

Your tongue swabbed the wetness his kiss left behind as he drew you against his front and wrapped an arm over you in an unyielding hug that was a perfect fit. It was only Namjoon’s steadily slowing breathing that you heard. Not even your own registered as you inhaled him again.

Floating in sweet, heady nothingness, you stayed silent. He did the same.

It was the kind of night you dreamed about. The kind of world he’d opened to you: expensive sheets. Massive, spanning beds. Big spaces with glittering, clean furniture, more expensive than you could calculate. 

Sitting at the top of the world with a man who might as well own it–well on his way to doing just that. But all he really wanted was you. And if there was truly ever any doubt he could get you, it ended here. Tonight. If jealousy was a motivator for him, he used it as a tool like an expert at the craft. 

Let him want and covet. Let him desire and buy it all up. He had you lock and stock.  

Except when he mumbled in the dark, minutes later. 

“There’s no one else, Y/n.” 

You couldn’t say it, but you thought it. Distant hope was eternal that he’d hear you, even in your unfocused and fuck drunk state. 

There’s no ‘someone else’. It’s just you. Always.