Namjoon Things - Tumblr Posts

A Dicking But With Feelings (M)

Summary: You always said you'd marry the first man that made you cum, because the female orgasm was as much of a myth to you as people saying jizz tastes nice. So, get the ring ready because Joonie is on his way to dicking you into marriage.

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/N

Genre: Domestic AU, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Squirting, Choking, Namjoon having STAMINA!, Swearing, Dicking with Feelings basically

Word Count: 3k

A/N: The title is pretty self explanatory, because Namjoon just makes me thinks big dick, bigger heart. Enjoy x

Go for the shag, they said. You’ll cum every time, they said. 

Lies. 

There’s no such thing as preparation when it comes to sex. The sheer amount of pornstar moans and smutty fics seen and read were just fuel to the fire of the whole female orgasm thing. But as soon as push came to shove and the virgin became not so innocent, it was clear that society had lied to you.

So, naturally, you told your flatmate you’d marry the first guy that makes you cum without the use of foul play, ie your own fingers. She told you ‘prepare for the lonely life hun because shit’s a myth’. Great.

Yet here you are. That same flatmate sending aimless texts your way as they’re drowned out by the sound of uncontrollable and completely unfiltered moans. She sends the occasional bang herself through thin walls because you and Namjoon are making light work of the headboard.

“Fuck you look so good right now. All mine. So beautiful.” The praise does bits in the way of your pussy fluttering around his dick and the feeling is far from lost on him. “Squeezing me so good bubs.”

It took 2 hours for you to build up the courage to talk to the tall, broad man in the library cafe, then took only 2 weeks for texts to turn to dates and 2 months for butterflies to become full-fledged, shit eating, unhealthily, complete love. 

You love him enough you think you just might marry him whether he’s made you cum or not, but with the way his thickness is splitting into you at knots faster than your moans can keep up with, he might just do the deed for you. 

Tears stain your cheeks as you must enter the hour mark of being 100% drilled. This is the first time too. You’re a ‘sex on the first date’ girl by heart, but you fell deep for him and he wanted to take it slow. Savour the innocence just so the dirt he was unravelling now in you was all the more tantalizing.  And dear god was it working.

The length of his torso drowned you underneath him, so all you could feel was the taught muscles of his abdomen against yours loose with pleasure, smell the heady scent of sweat and also the musk of whatever aftershave he had decided on tonight and you were consumed by every part of him as his grunts and moans of praise, submissive to the way your pussy ate him up, bounced off the walls in your head.

It is pure, unadulterated pleasure, fueled by the all-consuming love you didn’t know you were capable of. And he must feel the wavelengths too as his thrusts slow into something sensual, so he can feel every part of you, and you, him.

“Fuck,” his breathing isn’t light on the side of your face, and he doesn’t feign from letting out even harsher ones when he rounds your face so your lips connect. “I can’t believe how good you feel. Sex has never been this good.”

He’s candid and you love that.

The pace is tantalising as he speaks into your mouth, occasionally letting his tongue slip out and onto yours in a messy game. 

You can only fathom a mumble, but you want to speak out to him in adoration of the fact this is, without doubt, the best sex you have ever encountered. The man has been pile driving you for longer than an hour, occasionally mustering the self-control to slow the pace, occasionally pull out entirely just so he can watch your face contort and the whine leave your lips - no, he wants to savour this.

“I can’t believe your mine.” He comes to a stop completely as if the words he needs to say overtake his need to unravel in you. So you grapple at the loose hairs on the back of his neck and pull him back onto your mouth, long, slow, and loaded with emotion. It helps you find your words.

“Love you. So much, Joon.” 

He had a goodness to his heart like no other you’d met. You’d always been painted as someone with hard lines - an exterior set in stone that no one could penetrate because you were good on your own - but you must have been lying to yourself because you’re better with him.

It’s a slow and methodical nod to your side that has Namjoon pulling out, bodies disconnecting by mere millimetres before he is turned onto his back and you are cradling his frame in your small hands from above. 

He looks hungry but in a polite way - if that’s possible - or maybe Namjoon just makes you soft like that, as his eyes trail your body, mapping every mark, mole, indent, curve, roll like you’re worthy, just like you belong. 

So, your body speaks for itself as you find his hard cock and trace it with scolding fingertips, feather-light touches dancing from base to tip and the way he sucks in air makes you do the same. His tip meets your centre but in the mood of all things slow-paced and passionate you don’t let him into your warmth, just holding him upright so his eyes bore into yours like he wants to plead but can’t find the words. 

All it takes is a squeeze and he pipes up.

“Fuck, bubs, please.” 

You want to hear it again, over and over. It’s fuel to a fire that never seizes to burn, so you go again, squeezing at the base and bringing your other hand up to his neck so your fingers can trace the veins that protrude. 

“Shit yes, give it to me, please, Y/N.” He’s all over the place, voice wavering and dick stuttering when your nails dig in not only to where he’s hard but also around his neck. You can’t help the smirk as you take mental note - choking is a hard yes. 

You sink down somewhere between fast and slow, and the way he hits your cervix from this angle almost has you doubling over into his arms that dig into your hips, but you don’t - no, the way his eyes roll so they’re just white is a far greater surge of pleasure than any other.

“Jesus that’s big,” you don’t mean for the words to spill neither be heard, but you see the corner of Joon’s mouth twitch up as he finds satisfaction in the unfiltered praise. But, fuck, he is so deep from the angle that you feel heady.

You hands strike at his abdomen and push him into the bed when he attempts to seek friction inside of you.

“Wait. Wait,” he opens his eyes to meet yours, concern laced with desperation because you’ve got his dick in a vice and the self-control he’s mustering is on another level. “Just gimme a minute.”

“You good?” 

“Mmm,” you’re head is bowed and his hand sweeps the hair that has fallen around your face so he can assess the damage.

“Bubs, you good?”

But you laugh and lift your head to find an expression of confusion and worry morph into a smile, he can’t help but reciprocate when he sees you laugh for him. 

The exhaustion of the night paired with the way your cervix is slowly giving into the pressure of where his dick sits allows you to lean forward, arms strong and stable welcoming you when your chest meets his. 

He tastes of salt and men, sweat and aftershave as your mouth makes bold moves on the side of his neck. You’re still laughing breathily at the fact you almost passed out from the dick being too good, but his hips begin to stutter because he can’t share your humour when your tonguing around his jaw. It doesn’t help that your seeping at the seems, wet with an hours worth of stimulation and need for more somehow, so his small movements, normally undetectable, hit right up into you and have whatever laugh was coming out to roll out into a moan.

“Jesus it’s good like this,” he mumbles into your hair as his hips begin to guide your into movement, it’s a gentle thrust but it’s bruising inside of you and you shiver when he hits something good.

“Fuck urgh-,” you feel him everywhere inside of your, your stomach, your throat, the way his taste still sits on your tongue. It makes you crave more. 

“So good. So, so good.” And it is, because you’ve got into a pace now that isn’t leaving you heavy with tired limbs but light with the way he handles your body - arms gentle with a caress on you back but dick hard with the intention to hit deep. 

You grapple at his hair when he accidentally thrusts too hard, seeking that part of you that has you whining. 

“Joon, shit, there. Again.” 

“Yeh?”

“Yeah-ah,” the incentive to have you moaning does something to him, so he’s pushing up harder, thick thighs leading his hips up into yours and it’s somehow still unnerving that you can feel him in your stomach. 

Neither of you can contain the bliss you’re in. Sex was never meant to be this good - not in real life anyway - or maybe you’d just had a bad batch of guys in your life. Or maybe he is just one of a kind. The kind who took his time when he first ate you out and asked you how and where you liked it - deep or shallow - hard or fast. The kind who took note that the hairs on the back of your neck were your most sensitive part and running his fingers through it would have you melting. The kind who knew he loved you and was gonna give you the best dicking of your life because that’s the worst you deserved from him.

You’re a goner when you decide you want to see his face when he unravels, pushing yourself upright and straight into how he’s spearing you from beneath. 

“Oh shit Joon.” 

“Fuck yes.”

It must hit different because all of a sudden the pressure around your stomach is immense and Joon has to push at your stomach to hold you up while he drills into your from below, feet now planted, lip now caught in his teeth. 

“Oh my god, oh m-, oh my fuck-”

“Fuck yess.”

A final push on your stomach, where his hand moulds against his dick inside of you has that same pressure blowing and his dick leaves you before it’s too late only to have yourself gush onto his abs.

“Fuckkkk,” your cry wavers because of the way your body shakes, or maybe it’s because Joon is suddenly back up into you with urgency. Your pussy is on him too tight for him to miss the opportunity to cum inside.

“Fuck yes, Y/N, holy shi-,” your eyes are open just in time to see his abs clench, his neck redden with the strain of holding back a full-blown growl and his head to fly back onto the headboard. 

A hand finds his exposed neck and squeezes because you’re still cumming, you think, and the way his eyes suddenly blow open as he cums even harder inside you just confirm your suspicions about his choking kink. 

He’s wet with sweat and spilled arousal and your hands slide up and down his body with fingertips thruming, body still on the buzz of a high. And it’s a tanitlising feeling the way his grip that dug into your hips now soothes at your sides, coarse fingers trailing your body like you’re fine china.  

“Well fuck.” 

There’s no post-sex depression, no instant regret setting in your bones, nothing drawing you to pull your body from his and whilst that would noramlly scare you, his gaze on yours makes you relish in the feeling of being safe. 

A large hand maps its way over the rise and fall of your chest, heart hammering like you’d just had an hours worth of too good sex, and steady fingers stop over that same pounding because he knows he made that happen. 

“Now I’m never letting you go.”

You hope his hand caught how your heart stuttered because that’s the only indication you reciprocate his words, your mouth failing you as a smile takes over instead. 

You’re giddy. High on some feeling that’s otherworldly and you’ve never been so happy to say you’ll take the criticism from your roommate just so you can be cringy to the world. 

------------------------------------------

“So.” 

Her tone says she knows what she wants to say but is prompting you to take the step.

“So…”

“You shagged him.” 

“Like you didn’t already know.”

Her mouth twitches against the glass as your roommate cradles her afternoon wine, trying to ease the pain of all too fresh memories of banging against her wall.

“Mmm, at least the guys got rhythm,” you sputter a little on the glass of white you poured for yourself in hope of diffusing the butterflies but also the throb of where his dick stretched you. She was never one to shy away from being candid.

“You’ve got no idea.”

“Stamina too from the way that bed was banging for hours.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You’re not. She knows it. But:

“Nah, I’m happy the guy finally dicked you down. Now you’ll finally shut up about never finding a guy to marry cos you couldn’t cum.”

You laugh, because you’d forgotten about you’re number one sex rule that had been uttered after too many failed attempts at pleasure and probably after too many beers. 

“So, when you proposing?”

“Fuck off.”

You and her both knew it was all jokes and loose arrangements, but the way your pussy still thrums and your muscles tighten at the prospect of waking up to that man and his dick every day, you might just go and buy that ring tomorrow.

take a deep breath. sip some tea. then imagine

getting head from namjoon with his verse in ddaeng on loop. he be eating you out to the beat of his stutters

...and exhale