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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Steamy Waters — Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen), also Yoongi x Kitten (on the side)

Wordcount: 14.7k (I don’t know whether I should keep them short or just keep writing but with Joon I can never hold back LOL)

Genre: smut, fluff, a tiny, tinyyyyyy bit of angst, established relationship, idol AU

Rating: 18+

Hello honeybees! This piece takes place the night before the guys leave for tour and briefly the morning of their flight. Namjoon and reader (Vixen) had planned something special, but since a late meeting kept him busy till late, he comes back expecting you to be upset. Fortunately, you fixed your plans and are ready to spice things up with a small treasure hunt.

Trigger warnings: wine drinking, swearing. Lots of sex. Lots. Too much. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (did I mention GET TESTED! USE CONDOMS! DENTAL DAMS!) Female masturbation with toy (clit sucker), voyeurism, exhibitionism, reading of erotica, oral sex (both male and female receiving), squirting. DDLG dynamics, daddy kink; mentions of lingerie, shoe and uniform fetish, mentions of roleplay (teacher-student); restraints (manacles), BDSM dynamics (especially domination), marking and hickeys *in bold and italics*, dirty talking, teasing, mentions of nipple piercings, the slightest choking kink (Joon receiving), lots of nipple play and again hickeys. Power struggles and brat taming, but that’s regular Joon x Vixen behaviour. Also Joon is big and Vixen is tiny, so a lot of soft daddy!Namjoon that makes sure his baby is stretched out before he goes all out. Some mild angst due to jealousy and insecurity by Vixen, but nothing big and Namjoon fixes that easily. Also, Namjoon is ready to pop the question, but he holds himself back because *reasons*.

Author’s Note: the book quoted in the text which Vixen is reading is The delta of Venus by Anais Nin. I tried to quote as little as possible without cutting the scene, since it would have impacted negatively on the tension and overall result of that specific moment between Namjoon and Vixen. Precisely 800 words were quoted. They are reported in italics.

In case you need it, here is my masterlist.

(This monster has been partly edited, but there might be some stuff left, English is not my first language so please be kind 🥺🥰)

——————————————

Damned.

He was fucking damned.

If he was thinking about getting his dick sucked tonight, well maybe in his wildest dreams.

He wouldn't trust your teeth so close to his appendage. You would probably bite him and you would have every single right to do so.

He was angry and sad.

It was his last night in Seoul before the guys left for the tour and he had been held captive in Big Hit for the last adjustments.

He was supposed to be home two hours ago. You were supposed to go out for dinner, come back home and make love on those wonderful silk sheets you had given him when he asked you to officially move in, his sex playlist as background music and your body smelling amazing from that body lotion that matched his shower gel. You had planned everything together. Dinner, sex, cuddles, shower — and shower head — and possibly a small nap with his nose nuzzled deep into the crook of your neck.

But he had been kept against his will. Safety briefing, they said.

Sure, it would keep them safe from paparazzi but it wouldn't save him from your rage.

He had that gut feeling you would deny him and go back to your own apartment — which you still had because you had memories there, and he had those, too.

Yoongi drove beside him. They shared the car on their way back, as usual.

“Kitten will gut me,” Yoongi commented as he stopped at a red light for the umpteenth time. “Why the hell is there this traffic at ten pm?” He scowled. “Did you have plans with Vixen?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon replied, already thinking about which one of your fucks he would replay as he jerked himself off later in the night. At least he had a wide choice on those.

“She'll fucking gut me,” Yoongi repeated. “We’ve been doing this for years why do they need to torture us with this kind of meetings? At ten pm?” He shook his head.

“Move you fucking moron!” Namjoon growled at the car before them just as they stopped at a yellow light. “I'm gonna walk.”

“It would take you less,” Yoongi stated. “But we're in this together.”

“If I weren't in the car you could call her,” Namjoon instigated him, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Don't give me ideas,” Yoongi bit back as the semaphore turned green. “Thank god.” He sped up and surpassed the car before him. Namjoon swore as he noticed the lovey dovey couple sitting on the front seats. That's why he stopped at every damn yellow light.

“Did you and Kitten have plans?” Namjoon asked.

“Just cooking her favourite noodles and fucking her silly. Like the rest of the team,” he said, remembering how all of the boys had been raw with anger by the end of the meeting. “I thought Jin would blow a fuse by the end of the briefing.”

Namjoon sighed. “Jimin was ready to throw hands. He was all rolling eyes and huffing.” He shook his head. “Well, all of us except Tae and Hobi.”

“Doesn't Hobi have an arrangement of his?” Yoongi asked, surprised, before entering their road.

One more fucking traffic light.

He screamed in frustration.

“No. Quitted two weeks ago. He wanted something cuter.” Namjoon shrugged. “And Vixen told me Tae and Lace are waiting.”

Yoongi turned. “They what?” As the light turned green, Yoongi was too distracted to notice. He was awakened by the sound of a clacson. “Yes, fuck! Give me a fucking second.”

Namjoon exhaled. “It baffles me too, I know.”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi repeated, incredulous.

“Lace asked to.”

“I have a feeling Lace is gonna be a good one.” Yoongi nodded. “Bless my eyes.” Their building was right in front of them. No more traffic lights.

“Hyung. I think Vixen could be the one for me,” Namjoon murmured. “If she doesn't kill me tonight, I mean.”

Yoongi parked the car and turned to look at his friend. “Are you for real?” Yoongi asked, no irony, no surprise.

“Yeah, I think so.” Namjoon fumbled with the safety belt. “We'll see how she handles the tour. And then I guess we'll talk it out. She's perfect,” Namjoon commented, opening the door.

Yoongi was amazed. Namjoon spoke with absolute conviction. The same tone he used when so many years ago he said 'Bangtan', when he said 'Army' and 'Speak Yourself', 'World tour' and 'Billboard' and 'Grammy's'. It was the tone for goals and promises.

He stayed silent as Namjoon went on. “I mean, she's not perfect, but her flaws are adorable. Plus, we're not getting younger.” They got into the lift. “And I've been looking for rings lately. I think it's just a matter of time, and of her feeling the same for me.” Namjoon looked at his shoes. “I know it’s early, but it feels right. It feels inevitable”.

Yoongi was silent, for a few seconds, but then he nodded. The doors of the lift opened.

They walked slowly down the corridor, stopping in front of their neighbouring doors. “I am afraid of going through that door,” Yoongi said, stopping right before his apartment. “I'm surprised she hasn't burned it down already.”

“Maybe she's cleaned the toilet with your toothbrush and put shaving cream in your shampoo bottle.”

Yoongi shook his head. “I wouldn't blame her.” He inserted the pass code. “Still, tonight I'm using her toothbrush. And I don't think I'll wash my hair.” Yoongi grinned as the door unlocked. “Remember. Use your playlist and no screaming after midnight.”

“Make it one am,” Namjoon tried to bargain with his mischievous smile.

“Midnight,” Yoongi repeated, entering his apartment and closing the door.

Namjoon inserted the pass code and entered his home.

All the lights were off. He huffed out and went to the kitchen, trying to find something to eat.

He found dinner ready on the stove.

His first reaction was to check for a note on the table. Nothing.

He felt sorry. He sat down and stuffed himself with what you had prepared. The stew tasted delicious with its mustard and red wine sauce. The braised potatoes were excellent. He wolfed down one whole serving and went in for the second. He was on the brink of getting some rice to soak in the sauce when he noticed a small note on the fridge. It wasn't there this morning.

He stood up immediately, checking his phone before reading the small piece of paper. You had such lovely handwriting.

You might be late, but I still have plans. Come find me.

He bit his lip and frowned.

Bedroom he thought.

He headed for that room immediately. The first thing he noticed was the bed. The silk sheets were on. He felt furious. You had carefully prepared everything. Your aftercare set, the toys you had selected for the night. Lube. The special furred paddle. Maybe he was still in time for that. On a second note, He found the en-suite mirror light on. He went for it. But found no one. Except a small note on the mirror.

Remember? I should have blowed you in this shower. So sad you were late. But maybe you're not too late for that? Hope you find me quick. Love you. P.S. maybe you should check the living room.

He frowned. He hadn’t seen anything suspicious in the living room, still he followed your suggestion.

He found another note on the sofa.

Remember when I rode your thigh right here on our first weekend together? —

As if he could forget your pretty moans, how soft your hair felt in his hands, how hard he tried to follow the movie while you rubbed yourself against his leg, your face pressed into his neck, your lips so close to his ear.

I think I wanna do it again. It’s been a while—

He puffed out. Ridiculous. It had been only two weeks at worst. He clearly remembered his thigh between your legs as you woke up naked in his bed. Your shared bed. He felt a buzz of happiness course through him. He remembered you rubbing against him as you woke up, cheeks puffy from sleep, lips pouting as you still processed your surroundings.

Maybe we could do that in the studio. Maybe you could find me there. XO

He smirked. So this was a treasure hunt.

He decided to go for it.

His studio was dark as he opened the door. Inside nothing looked any different. Except for a pair of cherry red converse high, a note laying on top of them.

I was thinking I could ride your thigh while I’m wearing these, a pair of knee socks and a chequered pleated skirt. I could be your dirty little classmate.

He rubbed his face as he read. He was already hard.

I could completely forget underwear and leave my polished white blouse open. I would wear glasses. Do my hair up in pigtails. Ask you to be my teacher. Bounce on that beautiful monster cock of yours.

He thumped his head against the wall, palming at himself. He was already so damn hard. In that precise moment he realised how difficult it would be on tour. He had got used to your needs, and being used to getting laid minimum four days a week was a blessing when you were around, a curse when you had to be apart.

Japan had been difficult. Nine days apart, and only listening to your voice. He found himself aching every time he called you. He always somehow ended up curled on a bed too big, with a pillow too soft, hugging another pillow and wishing it was you while your voice came from his airpods. The two of you would talk until he was yawning non-stop. At that, you would say you were tired and gently wish him good night. Once you had to leave earlier because you found yourself crying for no reason. You thought he hadn’t heard your sobs. But he did. He rolled in the bed all night, trying to find peace. But he knew his peace was in his bed — your bed — with you.

He finished reading the note.

Come find me. Maybe I’m in the washing room. I was bored and I thought that doing laundry was a good idea.

He picked up the shoes and headed back to the bedroom, letting them plop on the floor. Just in case you decided on enacting your small scenario.

The washing room too was empty. All your lace sets were hanging from the small rack. He spotted one with a note hanging from the pin of the garter belt. He didn’t remember it from before.

I got it for this special occasion. I was going to wear it for dinner. Make you take it off from me with your teeth, hands trapped behind your back. You can take it off by undoing three ribbons, did you notice? You would have looked so good, kneeling on the floor, tugging at the satin tie with your mouth.

If he could kill the damn security coordinator, he would. With his bare hands. The only thing keeping him from that was that he could not fuck you if he ended up in prison.

He looked for directions, before he spotted another note glued to the washing machine.

Well, I’m done with the laundry. Of course I’m not here, big boy. It’s getting late. I’m feeling sleepy. A bit disappointed, to be honest. And I’m getting so needy. My hands are feeling naughty tonight. Maybe you could tie them up. Remember where?

He ran to the guest room. As he switched the lights on, he realised that this could be the only room. Unless you were in the walk-in closet you had partially turned into your studio — which he doubted.

His presentiment was confirmed once he spotted your robe laying on the floor. Your set of pastel lavender manacles placed on the pillow. His cotton briefs and T-shirt, which he assumed you’d been wearing, were abandoned on the floor in front of the door. Of the joined bathroom.

The bathtub.

It was clear now. You had run yourself a hot bath while waiting for him. He pulled down the handle, opening the door. He peeked in.

And there you were. Book in one hand, a glass of red wine in the other. Hair done up, naked, beautiful.

“Hello,” he said, once he was done observing you.

Of course you had noticed him, but you didn’t acknowledge him until he spoke to you first.

“Hello Joonie, “you murmured warmly.

He was a bit scared. He didn’t know whether he would face your sweet, loving side or your harsh, predatorial one. “I’m sorry for being late. We had a late security meeting.”

You closed your book and put it down. “That’s okay.”

He was even more scared. Maybe he was the one going to end up with his hands tied tonight. “Are you sure about that?”

“I have gone years without you. I can handle one night just fine,” you replied, arching an eyebrow and sipping some wine. “And safety is important.”

“But we had plans—”

“Yes,” came your curt reply.

He felt confused. “Can I come close?”

“I don’t bite, Joonie.”

He smirked. “Unless I make you.”

“Well, I don’t feel like biting you tonight,” you replied.

He knelt beside the tub and picked up your book. He opened it where you had left your bookmark. He silently read one line and blushed.

“Read it for me, will you, big boy?” you teased, placing your glass behind you, on the edge of the tub and moving your hand to caress his hair.

He looked at you and stole your glass, taking a sip of red wine before returning it to you, clearing his voice and holding the small book open with his strong, thick fingers. “At this acknowledgment of his timidity she was immensely moved by tenderness, a tenderness she had never experienced before. His strength was bowing to her, was hesitating before the fulfillment of the dream that had grown between them. The tenderness engulfed her. It was she who moved towards him and offered her mouth.”

He paused. Dammit, he was hard again. Reading the following line was even more difficult as your hand was drawing patterns on his scalp.

“Then he kissed her, his two hands on her breasts. She felt his teeth. He kissed her neck where the veins were palpitating, and her throat, his hands around her neck as if he would separate her head from the rest of her body.”

You moaned at his side. He looked at you while you simply mouthed, “keep going”.

“She swayed with desire to be taken wholly. As he kissed her he undressed her. The clothes fell around her and they were still standing together kissing.”

He was enraptured. How come you had been reading erotica when he should have been at home, doing the stuff you were reading about?

“Joonie?” you purred.

“Yes, babylove?” he replied.

“Will you keep reading for me, please?” you asked, voice soft and pleading.

“I don’t get why we’re reading this while we could be doing this,” he objected before he went on reading. “His caresses had a strange quality, at times soft and melting, at other times fierce, like the caresses she had expected when his eyes fixed on her, the caresses of a wild animal.”

He stopped for a second, only to look at you. You were there, laying with your eyes closed, mouth agape, chest glistening with a thin sheen of wetness.

He palmed at himself, trying to shift his aching sex away from the uncomfortable stitching on his boxers.

He swallowed and returned to the book. “When she closed her eyes she felt he had many hands, which touched her everywhere, and many mouths, which passed so swiftly over her, and with a wolflike sharpness, his teeth sank into her fleshiest parts. Naked now, he lay his full length over her. She enjoyed his weight on her, enjoyed being crushed under his body.” Your deep moan interrupted him.

“You like that, Vixen? Like how rough he is?”

“I like that that sounds like you.”

He kneeled and stretched, reaching your shoulder and kissing it gently before biting it. “Then let me tell you what he does next.” He paused and picked up from where he’d left. “She wanted him soldered to her, from mouth to feet. Shivers passed through her body. He whispered now and then, telling her to raise her legs, as she had never done, until the knees touched her chin; he whispered to her to turn, and he spread her backside with his two hands. He rested inside of her, lay back and waited. Oh, you’re not gonna like this, babylove,” he commented, before going on. “Then she withdrew, half sat up, her hair wild and her eyes drugged, and through a half-mist saw him lying on his back. She slipped down in the bed until her mouth reached his penis. She began kissing all around it. He sighed. The penis shook slightly at each kiss. He was looking at her. His hand was on her head and he pressed it downwards so her mouth would fall over the penis. His hand remained on her as she moved up and down and then fell, fell with a sigh of unbearable pleasure, fell on his belly and lay there, with eyes closed, tasting her joy.”

Your hand started venturing down, toying with the collar of Namjoon’s shirt.

“When she looked at him she was magnetically drawn again to touch his flesh, with her mouth or hands, or with her whole body. She rubbed her whole body against his, with animal luxuriance, enjoying the friction.” Namjoon felt his nipples hardening against the soft fabric of his shirt. It felt strange to be so aware of such a small portion of his body. He had never paid attention to such a detail before meeting you.

“Her fingers were light as she did this, then suddenly they would become frenzied, press deep into the flesh and hurt him, as if violently to assure her of his reality. These were the external feelings of the bodies discovering each other. From so much touching they grew drugged. Their gestures were slow and dreamlike. Their hands were heavy. His mouth never closed.” This whole description felt a bit too personal. A bit too right for your and Namjoon’s dynamics. He thought that maybe you were reading this passage specifically for this reason.

Your fingers massaged his throat, basking in the gentle vibration of him speaking. “How the honey flowed from her. He dipped his fingers in it lingeringly, then his sex, then he moved her so that she lay on him, her legs thrown over his legs, and as he took her, he could see himself entering into her, and she could see him too.” New sensitivity animated Namjoon’s neck. He was so aware of how your hand there was getting him even more turned on. He had the indistinct feel he would come in his pants once he would finish his reading.

“He crouched over so that he could take her with more force, touching the very bottom of her womb, touching the very flesh walls again and again, and then she experienced the sensation that within her womb some new cells awakened, new fingers, new mouths, that they responded to his entrance and joined in the rhythmic motion, that this suction was becoming gradually more and more pleasurable, as if the friction had aroused new layers of enjoyment.” He felt his body sublimate at the words. How could he not think of the tightness of your cunt, of how he always needed to stretch you out for half an hour before he could properly fit inside you without hurting you, of how sweetly you moaned when he managed to bottom out in just one fine thrust and caress your cervix. He was insane.

“Joonie,” you called.

“Yes, love. I got distracted, I’ll go on reading now.” He swallowed. “She moved quicker to bring the climax, and when he saw this, he hastened his motions inside of her and incited her to come with him, with words, with his hands caressing her, and finally with his mouth soldered to hers, so that the tongues moved in the same rhythm as the womb and penis, and the climax was spreading between her mouth and her sex, in crosscurrents of increasing pleasure, until she cried out, half sob and half laughter, from the overflow of joy through her body.”

“You can stop now,” you murmured gently. “Would you like to get in?” you asked, with big puppy eyes, scooting towards the middle of the tub, leaving him some space to slither in behind you.

He placed down the book. He might as well do whatever you wanted him to do for the night. After all this was your night. It was for you, his little vixen, that he had planned it. He intended to give you all the attention he should have been giving you in the following seven weeks, were it not for the tour. He wanted to sate your hunger and fulfill your cravings. He slipped his shirt from over his head, not even bothering with the buttons. Next he undid his jeans, tugging them down together with his boxers.

You turned just in time to watch his cock gloriously appear from underneath the fabric. You stared at it, licking your lips. You didn’t even like giving bowjobs before meeting him. He was so big that the idea of sucking him had genuinely scared you on your first time together.

“My eyes are up here,” he teased, snickering at you.

You made a slow work of letting your eyes climb up his torso and settle into his. “I love looking at you. And there so much to look at.” You smirked, letting your gaze turn back down. He stepped closer. Your mouth reached his mid-thigh from that position. You put down your glass of wine and used your free hand to scrape the back of his leg gently. “Come in.”

He slipped one foot in as you scooted farther away to allow him to comfortably manoeuvre himself into the tub.

As soon as he sat inside, the water rose significantly, going from your stomach to your sternum. His arms tangled around you, one across your middle, holding the underside of your breast, the other simply cupping your mound, in a gesture so intimate and tender that you perceived no sexuality in it.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured at your ear, the reverberations making you shiver and arch your neck away from his mouth.

“Hi.”

“How was your day, babylove?” he asked, as he nuzzled into your hair. “God, you smell so good.” He kissed you behind your ear. “I packed your extra shampoo and hair lotion into my luggage. Just so you know you have no extra in the house.”

You giggled sweetly, squeezing his knee and using the other hand to reach behind you and caress his nape. “Okay. Nice. My day was okay. The usual. But tell me about yours.”

“The usual too. Final checks, rehearse those choreographies that we always mess up. Late security meeting. Packing the last few things from the studio and the dorms. Stressful. Annoying.”

A moment of comfortable silence stretched out, your eyes almost drooping with the domestic comfort that Namjoon’s embrace gives you. “Why did you come here instead of our room?” His voice rumbled.

“You know, I still don’t get how come you left this bath to the guest bedroom,” you commented, shocked.

“My guests are usually family and friends. If I gave them my room, the ensuite has a nice view on the shower, which could be uncomfortable for two non-romantically involved people.” He chuckled. “You know, not all of us like to put on a show when they shower or bath, like you do, Vixen.” His feet toyed with yours. “And I wouldn’t like my mom knowing that I like watching my partner showering while I lay in bed and fuck myself.”

You giggled and shook your head, amused.

”I just wanted them to have a comfortable, familiar, relaxing feeling,” he explained.

“I can only tell how comfortable, familiar, relaxing it is to sleep on a bed with a headboard made of wooden bars.” You smiled.

“Back then I had no intention of bringing home one kinky, sexy little fox and fuck her all over my apartment. Little did I know I would need those bars to tie you up.”

You laughed.

His voice went quiet. “We could switch, you know. If you prefer the guest room.” He kissed the crown of your head. “It’s cool to me.”

“I love our room.”

“Our room,” he repeated, with a grin.

“We fucked for the first time there.” You traced his fingers with yours underneath your breast.

“Made love,” he corrected, voice a little piqued, a small frown on his forehead.

“Oh, Joon. What about that time in your studio? Wasn’t that a real first time?”

“I've made love to you since the first time. No need to say ’I love you’ for it to be lovemaking,” he argued, and you could hear his little frown on his voice.

“You’re right, baby,” you said, condescending, patting his head. “You were a gentleman that night. And yes, you made love to me. Still, no matter what we call it, we have a lot of memories in that room.”

“Our room”, he stated, proud.

“Our room,” you repeated with a smile. You nodded and turned slightly, his mouth immediately pressing to your temple.

“I still wish you could come with.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “You know, you could, if you weren’t hellbent on staying and working.” He suckled a bit at the base of your neck. “I bet they would let you go without batting their lashes.”

“I love my job, Namjoon,” you replied, kissing his temple as his head was bent down to nibble at your collarbone.

“But you love me too.” He objected, before he started sucking a lovebite.

You giggled at his childish opposition. “Yes, I do. But you know how much I've sacrificed for my job. You know it was the only thing I had throughout difficult times.”

He kissed your cheek. Sometimes, when you were so softly laying in his arms, when you spoke with such a gentle voice, when you were busy doing nothing but being his little girl, he forgot about you being a strong, independent woman who had a life before he came around.

“You're right. I'm sorry.” He toyed with your nipple, rolling it underneath his thumb. He kissed you below your jaw.

“Are you trying to turn me on?” you asked with a smirk.

“To please and entertain, Vixen,” he replied, kissing the other side of your neck, beginning to rub in between your thighs.

“Can’t we just have some peace and quiet for once?” you asked, just as you started grinding your ass against him.

“We can have peace and quiet.” He sucked a mark under your jaw, releasing it once it was a mild red. He knew you couldn’t quite conceal a mark like that in May, in a spot like that. “The point is I know you don’t really want that.” He kissed lower. His hand gripped your breast roughly. “Not now.”

“I’m a bit soft. You know, long wait, the bath, the late hour.” You faked a yawn. “I might need some sleep.”

“Don’t tease, Vixen.” He thrusted his hips against your backside. “I’m going to keep you up all night and fuck you so good you’ll have to call in sick tomorrow.”

“Can you still do that or have you lost your magic touch?” you turned your head, trying to meet the skin of his neck, managing only to find his earlobe before grazing it with your teeth.

“Vixen. Don’t fucking tempt me.” He lifted you up and placed you on his lap. “You’re always the same damn brat.”

“But I’m a good girl,” you whined, placing your hand on top of his, between your legs and pushing his middle finger against your clit, eliciting a soft moan.

“I still can’t understand if you want me or not.” Namjoon considered, toying with your clit some more. There was a certain viscosity, so he could somehow presume you were aroused, “Do you want me to fuck you, little fox?”

“Please,” you murmured, giving up. “Want you inside.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, only to come up and draw the shell of your ear with his lips. You shivered in pleasure and sensitivity. He chuckled. “You know we cannot like this, babygirl. You’re tiny and I haven’t warmed you up. And the water is not going to help.” He grazed your earlobe with his lips. “Why don’t we get out of here, little fox?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I’ll be back real quick.”

You stood up, your ass glistening with the water, slightly clad in bubbles and right in front of his face.

He stood straighter and stretched up, gripping your hips before giving it a harsh bite.

You squealed and laughed, joy, arousal and flirting mixing up in one sound.

“Joonie.”

He finished imprinting his mark before he let you go. “Be back quick but don’t rush. Your feet are wet. Don’t slip, baby fox.”

You nodded obediently. “I won’t run, daddy.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said softly, with a fond smile.

You sparked up at his praise. He noticed the shift and his heart filled with joy. Seeing you glow in happiness was the best moment of his day.

You dried your feet in the small carpet at the feet of the tub, wrapping a towel around you before walking towards the master bedroom. You rummaged in your bedside table a little — it had been almost a month since you last needed what you were looking for. However, your fingers found it and gripped it with the usual surety. Grinning, you took it out and put it in the box with your other accessories for the night. Trying not to dash, you headed towards the guest bedroom and placed the basket down, taking only your device of choice. You stopped for one second. Maybe lube too?

Nah. You would be back in the bedroom for that.

You entered the bathroom and Namjoon’s eyes immediately met yours.

“Drop that towel, Vixen.”

You grinned and started swaying your hips, smirking as you playfully took off one inch at a time. He laughed.

“I’m so in love with you,” he murmured, eyes glimmering.

You dropped the towel.

“Come here, babydoll,” he growled teasingly.

You followed his command, keeping your left hand behind your back.

“What you got there, Vixen?” he asked, sitting up straight.

“A surprise,” you teased right back. You sat on the edge of the tub, letting one of your feet brush against his inner thigh and lightly outlining his hard-on.

He threw his head back, moaning. “What you tryna do, naughty pup?”

You spread your legs wide, shameless and focused on having him see everything, sniff and taste how much he wanted.

He looked into your eyes. “What is it, darling?” he asked, kissing your knees, one and then the other.

You showed him your little extra.

“Tell me what you want me to do, ____,” he said, caressing the outside of your thighs.

“I’ll use it on me. You can do anything you want,” you said, eyelashes batting innocently.

“Even touch? Taste?” he asked, eyes darting down quickly before meeting yours again,

“Anything you want, Joonie. As long as this stays in my hand and you don’t stop me.” You showed him your clit sucker.

“Yes, okay babylove,” he replied. “Just don’t slip,” he said, rubbing your thighs.

“You could hold me?” you said, your eyes wide and imploring.

“Of course I can hold you, my love,” he said, placing one hand on your ass, the other against your spine, making sure he could hold you up.

“Take your time, sweet thing,” he encouraged you, kissing the tender skin of your upper thigh, near your crotch. His eyes never parted from yours. “You’re so soft,” he said, brushing his lips against your labia. He gave one slow lick.

“I waxed,” you explained shyly.

He parted from your skin. “Did it hurt?” he asked with a worried gaze.

“Not too much.” Your free hand caressed his hair. “I like the softness, but it has a few downsides.”

He simply cocked an eyebrow, waiting for your explanation.

“The hair needs to grow a little, and the skin must be left untouched for a couple days afterwards,” you said.

He kissed the small snake tattoed on your hip. “Well, I don’t mind. It’s all up to you, babything,” he replied. “I’ll make love to you no matter what,” he said, softly. “But I do love that you tell me these things. It helps me take better care of you.” He nosed your skin, nuzzling his hair against your leg. “Are we good to go? When did you wax?”

“We’re good. I calculated the timing.” You smiled, moving your hand from his hair to his cheek. “And I love you.”

“So smart.” He chuckled. “I love you too,” he replied, nothing but adoration in his gaze.

Biting your lip, you switched on your toy, his head moving away to give you enough space to place the device between your legs, while his arms stayed behind you, keeping you safely perched on the edge of the tub.

“It’s not going to take long,” you said with a small smirk as you felt pleasure roll down your spine. “Joonie.”

His hands moved to adjust his hold on you. “I’m here, love.” He kissed all the skin that met his mouth, stopping on a certain spot to suck a mark there.

You moaned at the hot feel of his tongue licking your freshly bruised skin, giggling when he playfully sunk his teeth on the tender flesh.

Your gurgling laugh transformed into a high pitched whine, your lungs filling only partly as your breath stopped.

“So beautiful, little fox,” he said, his hand palming your ass heavily “Daddy loves you so much, babylove.”

Impatient, you moved the switch on a higher setting, your hips jutting forward at the unexpected feeling.

“Careful, Vixen,” he admonished, his voice gentle and worried. His teeth sunk once more on your flesh, aiming at leaving as many marks as possible. He wanted you to remember this night for as long as possible. He was afraid of leaving you. He was scared and he was even more insecure about how you would handle this. He hated the idea that you would be in his home, vulnerable, alone, and not only he would be too far away to comfort you, but that he was the very person who had caused such disarray in your life.

Noticing his lost expression, you rubbed your thumb against his lower lip. “Look at me.” You said, pushing your thumb in his mouth. “Don’t think about it,” you comforted him, so gentle and caring. He melted in your touch. “We’re here now,” you reminded him, biting your lip, pleasure coursing through you.

He sucked on your thumb, closing his eyes, the buzzing sound mingling with the ripppling noise of the water as you parted your legs wider.

“Look at me,” you reprimanded softly.

His eyelids fluttered open, his expression desperate, his soul devoured by desire.

You slipped your thumb out, rubbing it on his lip, taking in the sight of him: his barely focused glance, his heaving, toned chest, his legs bent underneath him, enhancing his strong thighs, and his beautiful erection, the tip emerging from the water and touching his belly.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered in awe.

He shook his head, chuckling. “I’m yours.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the tickling on your clit, your free hand moving to his shoulder for support.

“Cum for me, ____. Show me, baby,” he said, just as your body crumbled forward, a loud whine exiting your mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, just as you pulled the toy away from your clit. “Too much, love?” he smiled wickedly.

You fumbled with the switch a little, needing a few seconds before you managed to switch it off. Placing it down, you pressed both your hands on his shoulders.

“Hold tight, babything,” he said, his voice deep and serious as he unwrapped his right arm from your torso, bending it in between your legs. “Gonna stretch you out for me,” he murmured, kissing your belly, nibbling on it. “Can you take two fingers, Vixen?”

You bit your lip, licking it to ease your nerves, putting on a show for him. You nodded, batting your lashes at him.

“My little darling,” he said, chuckling. “You’d do anything for daddy, uh?” He rubbed his fingers against your folds, wetting his digits properly before inserting them, eliciting a moan as he hit your sweet spot, so sensitive after your orgasm. “That’s it, love. Take it.” He sat up, licking your breast before he met your nipple, sucking it and then releasing it with a loud pop. “Do it for daddy, little one.”

You huffed out a stressed breath, furrowing your brow as he started curling his fingers inside. “Daddy...” you whimpered.

“Yes, babygirl?” he asked after releasing your other nipple.

“Want your mouth on my clit,” you whined.

He chuckled lightly, pressing soft kisses to your chest. “Needy brat, mh?” He licked a line down to your belly button, sitting on his heels. “You’re so lucky I like giving you everything you want.”

“You’re so lucky I’m kinky,” you replied, winking.

His hand squeezed your ass almost painfully. “I’m lucky you’re mine.” He kissed the apex of your labia, nuzzling into your heat.

“You are.” You smiled deviously.

He moved lightning fast, biting your thigh.

“Ouch,” you squealed.

“Shut it ,” he groaned. “You like it.” He licked the same spot. “Don’t lie to me.”

You shook your head, smiling. And then he attached his lips to your clit, sucking right away.

“Oh shit,” you swore, at which he grabbed your ass, digging his short nails in.

You could almost hear his teasing voice saying ‘language’.

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I love it,” you confessed softly, whimpering as the pressure of his lips was joined by the small movements of his tongue. “You know me better than I do,” you praised him. “You know everything I love,” you mumbled. “Because you’re my daddy and no one takes care of me like you do.”

He moaned at your praises, intensifying his movements, going faster, harder, pulling his fingers out only to insert three this time.

As the buckling on your hips grew wilder, you moved your hands from his shoulders to the edge of the tub, allowing yourself to push your hips harder against him.

“Joon! Close!”

He was the best. The fucking best. Instead of being selfish, parting from your cunt and answering you, fishing for compliments, he kept going, with the same pattern, the same rhythm, so obedient and consistent, knowing that that was the fastest way to your pleasure.

His fingers slowed down slightly, identifying the spot that made your eyes roll back and your breathing hitch.

The tide was impressive. You thought you were there six, seven times, only for the high to recede and come back stronger.

“Daddy,” You breathed out with the smallest amount of air you could emit. Your lungs were frozen, waiting for your climax before releasing your breath and empty themselves.

The wait drew out eternally. And when it crested, it was his frame helping you navigate through the storm. Your body quaked and shook, your legs trembling out of control. One of your hands weakly found his hair, tugging him away from your clit.

You could count the amount of times you had squirted in one hand — probably three or four times since you were nineteen. Namjoon marvelled himself once he realised what was happening, especially since you had told him how difficult it was for you.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked as he delicately extracted his fingers from your slit.

“Oh god,” you replied, letting your body slide forward, into his arms. He hugged you tight. He knew you were probably exhausted and he was still hard as hell, ready to fuck you into the mattress. But knowing you, you would just lay and be his pillow princess while he simply rammed into you. “We need to rinse,” you thought out loud. Were you speaking or just thinking very loudly?

From the sound of water flowing out of the tub, maybe you had actually spoken and Namjoon had taken care of it. He helped you up, pouring some bodywash in his palm and foaming it up, bending down to rub it over your legs, slowly working his way up. You tried to grab the bottle of soap and repay his sweet attention, but he slapped at your hand, taking care of himself. Next he grabbed the shower head, bringing it close to himself and rinsing himself off, shortly before doing the same on you, turning you around to make sure no foam was left. Or maybe just to check your ass, it wouldn’t have been strange. Nor surprising, by now.

He closed the tap and moved out of the tub, drying his feet, then grabbing the towel to dry you up.

He grinned once he noticed you were staring at his erection, licking your lips. “Vixen ,” he called.

You met his eyes, your gaze hazy. You smiled. “Oopsie. Guess I got caught.” You shrugged and pouted.

“Be patient, baby ,” he said, picking you up and placing you on the counter near the sink. “Look” he said, pointing at your inner thighs. There were a mixture of scratches, hickeys, bruises and bites.

“You scratched me with your stubble,” you said, with a light frown.

“I haven’t shaved in three days. I’m getting stubbly,” he explained. “But maybe you could fix it for me, babylove,” he said, grabbing his spare shaving cream and razor, since his were already packed.

You looked into his eyes. “Are you sure? You just fucked the life out of me and you trust me with this?” you said, eyes wide.

“Language,” he scolded. “And technically I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he noted. “Plus there’s no way you’ll kill me with this. Minor cuts, yes. But I believe in you. You’re smart, skilled. I trust you,” he kissed your forehead. “You’re my golden babygirl. The best little fox in the world.”

How could you deny him when he praised you like this? “Okay,” you mumbled as a wide, proud grin lit up his face. He opened the shaving cream, giving you the small tube. You poured some on your hand, placing down the metal container and spreading the foam on both hands, placing a thin layer on both his cheeks and chin. He looked at you carefully. “Have you ever thought of getting other tattoos?” He stayed still to let you work. You twisted a little to rinse your hands in the sink, your towel falling and leaving your naked body completely exposed to his hungry stare.

He stood there, between your thighs, waiting for your reply.

“I don’t know. I did my first when I was very young, and since then I have never had a moment when I felt something — art, ideas, values, whatever — stick with me so permanently that I wanted them on my skin forever.”

He nodded, looking at you as you dried your hands and grabbed the razor, inspecting it a little.

“Start from the side, here.” He pointed to his cheekbone. “Short cuts along the cheekbone. Same direction of hair growth, so skin gets less irritated,” he explained accurately.

“Okay.” You nodded, placing the blades on his cheek and following the imaginary line he drew with his finger.

He held your wrist. “Small swipes,” he said, making sure that you didn’t accidentally cut him as his cheek moved while he spoke.

You nodded and continued. When you reached his jaw you moved back up, starting again, but closer to his nose.

“Careful with the upper lip,” he said, as you concluded your second stripe. “Move to the other cheek,” he directed you, turning his face.

He hummed in approval as your hand grew more skilled. It was different from shaving yourself: first because you were afraid you would cut him, since you didn’t have full perception of how you were moving the blade on the skin, and second, because you had to shave hair-wise rather than counter hair-wise. “Good job, baby,” he rewarded you, his voice a low purr.

You felt your inner walls squeeze at his words and the voice he had used.

“Chin, darling.” His voice had a private, intimate lull to it.

You moved carefully, following the small curve of it, placing a finger under his jaw to improve your angle. Freeing a finger, you used a knuckle to check the results, brushing it and finding the surface slightly softer. “Better, Vixen?” he asked.

You nodded with a smirk.

He snickered and placed his hands on your lower back, dragging you closer. Your eyes followed a downward path, your mind barely working as you noticed how much patience he had been sporting. He was hard, he had been since he entered the tub, and his condition had worsened as time went on. You marvelled at his resistance. He wasn’t one for patience, most of the time. He let instinct lead and he wouldn’t waste a chance to have you. Therefore, you really wondered why he was waiting.

“Stop staring, Vixen,” he reprimanded. “It’s rude, didn’t your daddy teach you better.”

You snickered yourself. “My daddy taught me I should always know what I want and take it whenever I can.” You moved his face down, shaving his moustache. It was the trickiest part, all of the time. It was the one that scratched you the most, together with his jaw.

He stayed perfectly still until you turned and washed the razor. “Then, what do you want, little demon?” he asked teasingly.

He couldn’t hold himself back as he bent down, sucking your nipple in his mouth. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “My tits aren’t used to so much attention. Why is that?” you said playfully.

“I won’t be able to kiss them and suck them for a while, might as well treat them with some special attention,” he replied.

You stretched to his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You won’t be inside my cunt for a while, too, how come you’re teasing me with that beautiful, enormous cock of yours and haven’t slipped it in yet?”

He huffed out a heavy breath before he rubbed himself on your belly. “Is it what you want, brat?” he asked, snarling at your ear before biting your earlobe.

You simply nodded.

“Well, you’ll have to shave my neck first. You aren’t done yet.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “What game are you playing?” you asked, pouring more foam on your hands and spreading it finely over the underside of his jaw and the upper part of his neck.

“Your favourite,” he replied, placing his hands on your waist and dragging them up, his thumbs finding your nipples blindly, teasing them.

You tipped his head back. “I don’t think it’s my favourite. Or I would know it.” He stared at you with his dragon eyes, thin slits and heavy lashes. Again, you started shaving him in small rectangles, making sure that each was smooth before moving on to the next.

“Well, it’s the one that gets you to your kinkiest,” he said. “But maybe that’s my favourite.” Again he rubbed himself into you a little. “It gets you whiny and needy and desperate to fuck me.” He massaged your breasts, kneading them with slow and deep circular movements, and god, normally your breasts wouldn’t be this sensitive but he had so many ways to make you feel like he owned your body, that the body you have had for years and the one he possessed were two completely different entities. He did to you things you never thought would arouse you, and yet…

You took special care of his Adam’s apple, trying to be careful of all the angles. And next you tried to be careful with the delicate mole on the side of his neck, so close to his vein, in a spot that always had him moaning whenever you teased it with your mouth. “Aren’t I always desperate to fuck you?”

God, his whole neck was so sensitive that sometimes he even locked your hands over your head if you touched it without his consent.

“Sometimes you’re more desperate than usual,” he replied. He looked at you as you rinsed the razor once and for all, placing it down beside your leg, on the counter.

“How does it feel when I’m more desperate?” you asked, curious.

“It feels like even though I am the one inside you, ramming into you, you’re still the one in command.” He thought about it. “Like it’s you fucking me, not the other way round.”

“Do you like it?” you asked as he moved aside to rinse his face and neck.

“I don’t know. I mean, in the past I’ve had a couple girls who were a bit wilder than me, but this is new. It’s like I’m the one domming, but I’m not the one in control.”

“Do you mean when I power bottom?” you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion.

“No. It’s different. It’s when…” He closed the tap and dried his face, putting down the towel and walking back to you. His erection wasn’t as raging as before but you took in the sight nonetheless. How come you never looked at dicks when watching porn but you couldn’t for the sake of you not look at his crotch whenever you could?

He stood between your legs, picking you up and placing his hands on your ass. He loved doing that. “It’s like you’re silently telling me what to do. It feels like you’re taking way more pleasure than me. Like you’re using me a little. It makes me feel very attractive and sexy, but sometimes it scares me.” He walked you to the bed in the guest room.

“Scare you?” you asked.

“I'm a bit objectified. It's not that I don't like it, but I do need some special care afterwards. Staying here or our room?” he asked. “You put on the silk sheets there.”

“Let’s not mess them up and stay here,” you suggested. “And I don't mind giving you reassurance. But if it bothers you, you should tell me and we can find a way to fix this. Together.”

“I like it. I just want extra cuddles afterwards,” he stated as you giggled. He put you down in the middle of the bed, hitting his foot on the frame with a thud. He swore under his breath.

“You okay, baby?” you asked, worried.

He pouted and shook his head.

You softened at the sight, crawling closer to him. “Let me see, cuddle bear.” You cooed at him.

He showed you his foot and the light scratch on it.

You bent down, kissing it gently. “There. Like new,” you murmured.

“What if it hurts somewhere else?” he asked, with a cocked eyebrow and a fond smile.

“I might have an idea of where you’re hurt.” You smirked.

He laid down on the bed, arms fonded under his head. And just like that, he was hard like marble. Crawling on top of him, straddling his lap, you bent over his face, stretching to reach his temple with your lips. “There. You must be out of your mind if you think I’ll suck you after making me beg for your cock inside me,” you whispered in his ear.

And just like that a heavy smack landed on your ass, his hand staying on your skin and gripping your flesh aggressively. “See, that’s how you fuck me,” he growled in warning. “D’you know what happens to spoiled brats like you?” he asked threateningly.

“Enlighten me,” you provoked him.

Faster than you could process, he pushed you off of him, your back to the mattress as he sat up, turning you around again and placing you in the middle of the bed, your front pressed against the sheets. Roughly, he sat on top of you grabbing your wrists.

He had grown way stronger and bigger since the two of you had started dating.

As he kept your arms still with one hand, he stretched to the bedside table with the other, his fingers meeting the silver chain of your manacles. He bent to your ear. “Look, I’ll be so kind I’ll let you choose if you want your hands tied to the bedpost or behind your back.”

“Behind my back,” you replied, almost going ‘duh’ at him.

He laughed sardonically. “As if.” One band was already tightened around your left wrist, while you tried wiggling your right forearm away from his grip.

He called your name gently. “Daddy knows what’s best for you, don’t you think so?”

That objection made you pause, to stop and think about it carefully.

“Yes or no?” he asked and you knew what he meant. Consent.

“Yes.”

He always asked the question whenever you resisted him, giving him the pleasure of the chase but never truly opposing him.

“Do you trust daddy, little one?” he asked, his voice so soft that your rebel side already felt like giving up.

“I do.”

“Then, let daddy tie your hands to the bedpost, baby fox,” he murmured at your ear, kissing all the way down your neck, before coming up to your temple and laying a kiss there, “I’ll give you everything you want if you behave, but now I need to use you a little, my doll,” he whispered. “I’ve been holding back to spoil you rotten, my love.” He turned your face slightly after he secured the link between the two manacles behind one of the iron bars of the bed. “And although having those pretty rosy lips around my cock is my favourite thing in the world, I have other priorities tonight.”

He moved off your body. “Your silhouette looks incredible, babylove.” He bent down to press his teeth against the soft flesh where your ass met your upper thighs. “You’re a fucking wet dream.”

You turned slightly to look at him.

He was stroking himself, slowly, biting his lip, his free hand touching his chest and neck. He met your glance. “I love that you like watching me as much as I like watching you.” He was sitting on his heels with his legs parted wide, his hand reaching the base and squeezing his balls gently.

The soft light coming from the bedside table casted gentle shades that made his glance even darker, pupils blown wide with arousal.

“What will I do without you?” you murmured as you kept looking at him, pouting.

“Just a few weeks,” he promised. “Then I’m gonna take you away. Fuck you for a week straight. Sleep next to you. Go somewhere we can hang out and hug and kiss and get carried away without anyone noticing. Fuck, I’ll even cook for you.” His hand moved from his chest to your leg, caressing it from the back of your knee to the swell of your ass. “You’ll live latched onto me twenty-four seven. You won’t even have to walk. I’m gonna carry you around like a koala bear.” He moved in closer and wrapped his arm around your waist. “Need you up on your elbows and knees, babygirl,” he commanded gently.

You obeyed.

“Good girl,” he praised you. “Can you take me like this, my love?” he pressed his mouth to the base of your nape.

“I think I can but… easy at first,” you said, knowing that normally taking him from the back meant he reached way deeper than usual.

“Of course, baby,” he replied tenderly. He stretched to the bedside table and you noticed him grabbing the bottle of lube. Not that you wouldn’t be able to do without, but it was way easier this way. And way better too.

He hissed as the cold liquid made contact with his length.

“Is it too cold, Joonie?” you asked.

“At first.” He kept you still with an arm around your middle, while his hand guided his tip along your slit, spreading your slick. He bent as close to you as possible, trying to reach for your mouth. He had to move his hand from your hip to the mattress to prop himself up. The moment he was close enough that your lips caressed each other, he whispered softly, secretly: “I love you”.

“Love you too,” you whispered, already knowing he was aware he could possibly hurt you. As he slid the tip in you shut your eyes tight, whimpering.

“That’s my good little girl,” he praised you. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You shook your head gingerly, as if saying ‘it’s okay’.

He kissed your lip delicately; “can I move?” he asked, making sure that he could sink in further, even though keeping as still as possible was breaking him.

You nodded and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, trying to distract you but not stopping another small cry as he stretched your inner walls.

“Almost there, just an inch, love,” he whispered, trying to encourage you. “Do you remember your safewords, baby fox?”

You nodded before saying ‘I do’ between gritted teeth. You lowered your chest to the mattress, the position offering him more space inside you but turning a bit difficult as he finally bottomed out. “That’s it, Vixen.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “You did amazing, love.” Your muscles twitched around him. “Fuck, babe,” he murmured as he tried to stop himself from thrusting his hips. “Tight and warm.” He wrapped his body around you.

And goodness, it felt amazing to have him so close, so near. For a second you inadvertently tugged at the manacles, needing to touch his hands, to intertwine your fingers together.

“Are you okay?” His voice was ragged, strained. “We can take them off anytime, babe,” he reminded you.

“I’m cool. I just forgot.” Squeezing once more around him you got ready for him to move.

You heard him swallow and pull out just a fraction. “Do you want me to take them off you?”

“No, daddy. Thank you, daddy,” you replied composedly.

“That’s my girl.” He placed his hands on your waist and pulled out. “I’m gonna thrust in again.”

Feeling the emptiness he had left inside you, you knew this specific thrust would feel like heaven, with the slight burn that made pleasure even more intense.

“Please,” you whined.

He grinned and pushed in.

“Namjoon,” you moaned, this time grabbing the bars of the bedframe and staying still.

He moaned himself as he hit deep into you in one thrust, “Goodness. Fuck. Vixen, you’re the best,” he growled.

You let your muscles pulsate tentatively around him.

“You gonna milk me dry with that tight, sinful cunt of yours, mh?” He bit into your neck to keep himself from swearing even more. “Don’t know how I’ve survived it so long.” He placed his hand on the headboard, gripping it tight as he used it for leverage, his other hand sinking its fingers into the flesh of your hip. You noticed his grip on the bed was so vicious his knuckles were white. You thought about how sexy it would be if he had his rings on. You stopped your brain from wondering about rings and Namjoon and him fucking you silly. You knew if you went that way, you would probably lose this moment with him.

He pulled out a bit and rammed back into you, hard and fast, stealing a growled ‘yes’ from your lips. “You can take it, baby?” he asked.

“Please.” You cried. “Want you so bad.”

He snickered. “There we go.” He smiled and started fucking you right, his hips making a raw, crude sound as they slapped against your ass, his hand moving to your shoulder to pull you against him as he hammered into you, his groans making you so wet, making you stretch your neck to see the pleasured scrunch of his face, the way it relaxed when he exhaled, turning into the most blissful expression you had ever seen.

“That bastard who couldn’t keep you.” He pushed into you, growling. “That tried to dull you down,” he said, the thought riling him up. “Bet he never had you like this.” He slammed inside you, the angle hitting your g-spot perfectly.

“Never. He didn’t even know how to touch me,” you replied, huffing out the words as your voice abandoned you.

“You’ve got me now,” Namjoon replied, slowing down. “And I’m not letting go.” His sweaty forehead leaned against your temple. “You’re my best everything, Vixen.” He scrunched his face again, “you could take away the sex and I’d be whipped just the same.” He kissed your cheek. “I’m a fool for you.” You lulled each other, the pace of your movements logical, deep, sensual. It was surgical, that search for pleasure, as if you were both trying to pinpoint the single nerve ending that was sending each of your bodies to oblivion.

You tried to reach his lips with yours, to no avail. “I’m a fool for you too. You’re in my head and in my heart all the time.” You rubbed yourself against him, trying to communicate with your body the affection that you normally express with your hands, touching his face and combing his hair and intertwining your fingers together. “If this ever ends… I’d have to build myself from nothing.”

He pressed tens of kisses to your shoulder and hair. “This is not going to end anytime soon, Vixen.” He managed to kiss your mouth. “I love you.”

You smiled. “You know I love you.”

You stared at each other in silence before his face crumpled a little, meeting your shoulder. “I wanna cum but I want to keep going,” he chuckled.

You smiled. You knew what he meant. “Maybe you could cum and I could get you riled up again.”

“What are you suggesting?” he said, accompanying your small talk with tiny circles of his hips. It was really erotic, especially after the hard and fast hammering.

“You mentioned pretty, rosy lips around your cock earlier?” you said, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Then imma take it home, yeah?” he asked with a boyish grin.

“Yes, big boy,” you teased.

Once both of you were in a teasing, cheerful mood, the whole experience turned into some very old school fucking. Sometimes you almost forgot how fun sex with Namjoon could be: the joking, messing around, teasing, dirty talking. It was like you were over-enthusiastic teenagers and damn, didn’t it feel nice to have those strong thighs of his pushing so hard against you that you had to hold yourself steady to take it fully. And him being insatiable… He was truly the best lover you had ever had. Passionate and so intense that even when he took, it felt like he was giving.

“I’m close,” he groaned. “Want me to touch you?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Later,” you replied excitedly, wanting nothing but to feel him come undone. You knew you had minimum another round coming.

“Dammit, Vixen.” You grinned as your inner walls milked him with a specific pattern that had him groaning a couple times before he went completely silent, hiding his face into your hair. That’s when you felt the hot spurts of his cum spill inside you, shortly followed by a raw cry exiting his lips.

“Joonie, baby,” you murmured as he went silent, only his heavy breaths echoing in the room. “Are you okay, love?”

You felt his hair tickle your back in a nodding motion.

You simply smiled. “Let me see you, big bear. Let me take care of you,” you murmured, silently requesting he take off the manacles.

He nodded again, waiting a couple more seconds to calm down his breathing and come back to his senses. He stretched awkwardly behind you, losing his balance a couple times before he finally reached the iron hook holding the two cuffs together. Once he removed that, you waited for him to undo the cuffs, holding your position. Only when your wrists were free you turned to check on him, flipping onto your back as he caged you in with his forearms on each side of your head. He let himself fall at your side, on his back, your arm moving away just in time to avoid his weight crashing onto it.

He simply stayed there, completely still, breathing with his eyes closed. “I haven’t taken off my contact lenses yet,” he murmured.

“Well, this way you can see better, red riding hood,” you joked.

He snickered. “What if we just napped and woke up in a couple hours?” he asked, tucking you into his side.

“I’d say it’s not a bad idea,” you replied, closing your eyes and sniffing at his skin clad in a slight sheen of sweat.

“Then let me go to the bathroom, take off the lenses and find my phone, yeah?”

“Mh,” you murmured. “Don’t wanna let go,” you said, curling your leg over his waist.

“I’ll be quick,” he said, trying to get out of your clutches.

Doing a cute small bounce as he stood up, he ventured out of the room. You used his brief departure to go to the toilet, and he came back just as you hit the mattress. He had his phone in one hand and a t-shirt in the other. He was wearing boxers.

Boohoo.

“Already have your three am quickie alarm on.” He kissed your cheek, bending over you on the bed. “I’ll hit the bathroom. You should too.” His lips slipped up, towards your temple, kissing there.

“Cleaned up already,” you replied, stealing his t-shirt and slipping it on.

“Do you need chocolate?” he asked, knowing that sometimes you got a bit down during aftercare. “Cuddles? Anything?”

“Just you,” you said, getting underneath the covers. You already knew you would wake up without them, his body heat and the May weather a bit too intense to resist the cotton sheets.

“Then I’ll be quick,” he replied. You closed your eyes, listening to his quiet routine. He came back a few minutes later, switching off the lights. “Can you believe I still have that alarm from our first weekend?” he asked.

“When I came here after the vernissage?”

“Mhmh,” he confirmed, fixing your body close to his, tucking your head on his chest and placing your leg on his lap. You hugged his torso with one arm. “I can still hear your laugh as I chased you down the corridor. Your whimper as I first moved inside you,” he purred. He took a pause. “Are you sure you don’t want to have another round? You didn’t even cum before,” he said.

But somehow the two orgasms in the bathtub had exhausted you and you craved nothing but a nap. “I’ll be needier later,” you said. “I’m just tired.”

He nodded. “Then let’s nap.” He paused, almost convinced.

And then he spoke softly. “If you had to get another tattoo, what would you get?”

You thought about it. The answer was immediate.

One of his lines.

A teddy bear. A bonsai.

Something his.

But it was too early to think of that. “I don’t know. Maybe a flower.” You shrugged. “A peony.” You brought his hand on your ass, moving his wrist to make him rub small circles on your skin. He smiled and obeyed. “Or a piece of art. I have a parody of The Origin of the World that I’ve designed a while ago that I really like.”

“Isn’t that the painting of a pussy?”

“Exactly,” you said, nodding and smiling with your lips, feeling a yawn come to your mouth.

You felt him shake his head as he snickered.

And that’s when you started falling asleep.

————————————————————

You woke up to something mellow and sexy playing in the air. It took you a couple seconds to remember where you were and what was going on.

Namjoon. Guest room. Tour. You stretched to the bedside. “Vixen’s three am quickie” read the alarm name. You smiled and switched it off, although you were tempted to let the slow R‘n’B track play.

In the suddenly quiet room, you noticed your man was still sleeping at your side. As usual, the alarm had gone ignored and he was still soundly asleep. You felt a bit guilty and you were really tempted to let it slip and go back to dreamland, but that was before you pushed your hips against him, feeling him shift and pull you closer to him.

“Joonie...” you murmured.

He brought you on top of him. “Yes or no?” he asked, grabbing your ass and pulling you even closer.

“Only if you want to,” you replied gently, already kissing his neck.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, please.”

You started sliding down his body, sucking at the skin of his chest without leaving any marks. You met his nipple and fondled it too. “Sometimes I think how sexy it would be if these were pierced,” you teased as you toyed with his sensitive buds, rolling them underneath your thumbs.

His chest shook with gentle laughter. “Really?”

You nodded as you proceeded towards his stomach, scratching it with your nails. “Yeah.”

He shivered at the sensation of your nails contrasting with the gentle feeling of your lips tickling his belly. “Maybe when I’m not an idol anymore.”

You hummed approvingly at his non-denial. “Is that a maybe?”

“It’s a ‘you’ll have to pay me good money and a few blowjobs before I consider it’,” he replied before hissing a ‘yes’ at the feel of your hands rubbing his thighs.

“What if I got a tattoo and you got your nipples pierced?” you asked tauntingly.

“What if you got your own nipples pierced?” he bit back, as you nibbled on the tender skin below his belly button before it turned into the small, taut flatness of his pelvis.

You drew the outline of his cock with the tip of your nose. “And where’s the fun in that?” You snickered, dragging your nails against his inner thighs.

“It would be so much fun,” he said. “Imagine if I moved your piercing with my tongue while I suck your nipple.” His hands went to your hair, holding it back as he looked at you. The room was in a gentle penumbra, the streetlights and the moonlight coming in from the window.

“Imagine if I did that to your pierced nipples,” you said before licking him from over his boxers.

“Don’t push your luck,” he reprimanded before he started massaging your scalp.

You scoffed and helped your index into his underwear, pulling the waistband down. “I’m sure I’ll convince you someday,” you replied. Pushing yourself up on your knees, you removed his underwear entirely. “Steady small reminders. The raindrop breaks the rock and all of that,” you murmured as you folded yourself between his legs, kissing his hips.

“If you say so...” he mumbled, sceptical.

“I do say so,” you replied with an assertive tone that made him giggle. He already knew you would have it your way in the end.

As you riled him up by touching everything but his cock, you gathered some saliva in your mouth before letting your jaw drop, your tongue coming out just enough to have your drool fall on his length. The hot droplets had him hissing gently.

“You drooling on me, Vixen?” His voice was deep and lustful.

“I'm always drooling for you,” you answered, spreading your spit with your fingertip before taking his length in your hand. With his tip placed on your lips, you used your free hand to gently massage his balls, his mouth opening in a loud groan.

Chuckling, you spread more wetness over his tip. “Use your hands,” he whispered.

You looked up at him.

He stared into your eyes, thankful for that silver moonbeam coming through the window and illuminating your face as you looked up at him.

“Why not my mouth?” you asked, confused.

“Don't know how long I'll last. And I need to be inside you again,” he said in a dark rumble. “I need to feel you cum on my cock,” he confessed. “I want to be close like that,” he explained, his voice becoming more and more strained as you started touching on him, placing small kisses on the thick underside, where the main tendon met a thick, pulsing vein.

“Just the tip,” you begged, licking him from the base to the spongy, soft head.

He tutted and placed his hand on top of yours, leading it as it slid on the shaft. He fed you his tip. “I can never say no to you,” he cooed. With his other hand, he combed your hair back, gently, without putting you under pressure, but still crying out when you started really sucking. His tip was so sensitive. You could make him cum by touching that alone, but still you added your hands, toying with his most sensitive spots. Getting him to twitch and pull your head away was almost too easy. “Don't make me cum,” he warned you.

You giggled. “We aim to please, don't we?” you provoked him.

“Come up here, if you dare, little fox,” he teased right back in that husky bedroom voice that he always used for special emphasis.

“Mh, you know, it's comfy right here,” you said, placing your fist on his tip, making him penetrate through it as you slid your hand down, gripping his flesh hard. Once at the base, you started clenching your hand with a pattern, making him shut his eyes tight. “Plus, they've got sugar canes”.

He snarled. “I told you to fucking stop, Vixen,” he warned, making his voice deeper and more commanding.

Looking up you grinned, devilishly glowing with mischief.

He raised an eyebrow, licking his lip and biting it, perfectly knowing what to expect.

“Make me.”

“That's it,” he said, immediately catching your wrists and sitting up, grabbing your waist, using his strength without even thinking about it. In the thrill of the fight you didn't even think about him possibly hurting you, especially since sometimes he forgot how much stronger he was. Thank God he was smart enough not to tug you by the arm, possibly hurting your elbow and shoulder. With his fingers sinking deep into your waist, he placed you on his lap. “Demon brat,” he seethed. “Always getting yourself in trouble.”

He moved you around like you were nothing but a puppet, placing a hand on your butt and making you stand on your knees, straddling his hips. His other hand moved to his dick, grabbing the base and spreading his and your slickness all over your folds. “You're already so wet.” He snickered, “did you get wet because your mouth was on my cock or because I'm manhandling you?”

You pouted.

“I asked you a question, Vixen,” he said, his tone aggressive but not intimidating.

“Your cock,” you replied, shy, but just barely.

He grinned and slipped his tip in. You whimpered at how good it felt, how sweet it burned. “It feels good in your mouth, uh?”

“It feels perfect,” you replied as he pushed your hips down just a bit, letting you take only one more inch of him.

“Like it was made for you, isn't it so, babygirl?” he asked.

“Yes, daddy,” you whined as his hands helped you another inch down.

“It's only yours, sweet thing. No one else can have it that way.” He bit your earlobe. “Only yours.”

You mewled as he let you slide down as much as you wanted. And that's how you took him all the way in, placing your head on the crook of his neck, inhaling the spicy scent of him.

“All yours. Can you feel it?” he growled between gritted teeth.

You nodded.

“I said, can you feel it?” he barked out at you, delivering a hard smack on your behind.

“Yes, Joonie,” you replied, barely sane.

“That's not my name, little one,” he snarled.

“Sorry, daddy,” you keened.

“That's my good girl,” he rewarded you. “Do you want to ride daddy's cock?” he asked, suddenly generous.

You nodded eagerly against his shoulder. “Please, daddy. I'll be so good to you.”

He caressed your hair out of your face. “Look at me,” he murmured.

You lifted your head, staring at him with hooded eyes. It all felt too good.

He grinned, his hands helping you remove your sleeping shirt. “Yes, love,” he cooed as your face appeared. “You're so good to me, darling. Can we move, love?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” he teased.

You placed your hand on his face, cupping his cheek. “I just don't want to mess this up.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, moving his hands to your face “What is it?”

You blinked and said, “It's nothing.”

He shook his head, gritting his teeth, focusing on your face to stop himself from moving. “Tell me.”

“I simply know I’ll come back to this moment a lot. I want to remember that it was perfect,” you said, knowing that it was so easy for you to say something provoking, simply to get on his nerves and make him fuck you silly.

“It will always be perfect.” He placed his hands on your waist, helping you up. “It’s us,” he whispered, moving his arms to hug you to his chest.

“I love you,” you said in a hush, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you so much sometimes it gets hard to breathe, to think.”

“I love you too, ____.” He placed a kiss on your lips, so chaste and pure. “Desperately.”

You sunk onto him, purring in pleasure. You had both been patient, taking it easy, still slowed down by the last tendrils of sleep snaking around your mind and body. But now you were both very awake, and so, so hungry for each other. Grinding on him, you hummed in pleasure, his flesh so hot and smooth inside you, allowing you to slide so easily that his hands didn’t even need to help you.

One of his arms stretched behind him, haphazardly fixing the pillows as he tried to lean against the headboard, his other hand kneading your ass cheek. With his torso half reclined, he scooted back into the pillows, placing his hands on your elbows and moving your hands on his chest. Your thumbs found his nipples immediately while his fingers dug into your side, gripping you hard. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured with a strained growl. “You’re too pretty for me.”

You shook your head and bent down, the shift in angle making you whine. “You should see how good you look right now.” You sucked his plump lower lip. It was like marshmallow. “You’re so fucked out. So sexy.” You nibbled on his jaw, your thumbs still teasing his nipples. “And so damn lovely.”

He purred as you squeezed him with your inner muscles, gyrating your hips, staying quiet just to hear his erotic moan, which of course followed shortly, just as you had predicted.

Bending down to his chest, you licked his left nipple, then his right one, enjoying how easily your fingers slid on the wet skin. He whined, one of his hands stretching from your hip to your mound, his thumb finding your clit with preternatural precision. “Wanna feel you cum.” He said, his voice so hoarse and deep.

“Keep going.” You replied, bending your head to his nipple, freeing a hand that naturally moved to the base of his neck, your thumb and index finger tracing his artery and vein gently.

“Don’t. Not yet.” He said, licking his lips and letting his mouth hang open. “Wanna give you another.” He explained vaguely.

Not that you really understood anything: your hips were riding him faster, his girth so satisfying, so mind blowing that you felt your edge come around, your mouth letting go of his chest and your head crashing forward as you lost the strength in your legs, simply using the muscles of your ass to drag your hips on him, not focusing on taking him in and out of you, but simply making him move inside. The consistent fullness rubbing and stretching your inner walls, the thicker, harder underside pressing against your sweet spot and your cervix, alternatively stimulated by the hard tissue and the soft tip. And right after a moment of incredible awareness of every single movement happening inside your cunt, you were suddenly shrouded in bliss, complete and all-embracing. You didn’t have body parts, you were simply something swimming in ecstasy, alone, even as Namjoon’s body hugged you close and pushed you with your back on the bed. His clean hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek as he observed how deep into pleasure you were.

He was struggling. Firstly, because resisting your orgasm and not following you was difficult.

Secondly, because everything in him was screaming to own, mark, possess every single cell composing your body. If he let his mouth and body and heart speak, he knew he would tell you to marry him right then and there.

As your eyes fluttered open, you found his face above yours, smiling at you. “There she is.” He kissed your lower lip, pouting his own lips around it. “Promise I won’t take long, love.” He pushed his thumb in your mouth, letting you suck on it as he went wild on you, hitting your g-spot with deep, hard thrusts, bending his mouth to your chest, to your left nipple, licking it and taking it into his mouth, massaging with his plump, soft lips. He released it gently, not without rolling it against his teeth with his tongue. “I wanna fuck you. All the time. Like this,” he said, going so slow that you doubted he would ever find release like that.

Your nails dug into his ass, pushing him against you once he sunk deep into you. “I would let you,” you whispered gently, speaking as clearly as you could while his thumb was still perched on your lower lip.

“I’m so close,” he murmured.

That’s when your hands became useful. His pace intensified as you found his artery, pressing your fingertip against it hard, slowing down his blood flow. You noticed his eyes close and his breath hitch. He waited a pretty long time before exhaling briefly and distractedly. His focus was elsewhere. Your other hand went to your clit instinctively, rubbing it only a couple times before you found your eyelids fluttering once more in pleasure, licking your lips repeatedly, trying to wet them since your heavy exhales had dried them up.

“Eyes on me, babygirl.” He warned you; still both his and your eyelids struggled to stay open. His brow furrowed when your high peaked, announcing the quick tumbling down of your orgasm.

“Daddy!” You squealed, your eyes crossing with pleasure. He went harder, trying to increase your pleasure with fast, hard thrust.

And you both came undone, his release hitting him just a couple seconds after yours since your grip on his neck had tightened irrationally, something you would never do in a conscious state of mind.

He rammed into you a couple more times before he stilled, incredibly deep inside you.

His breath stumbled and rushed out of his lungs after being held in for so long. He simply panted for a couple minutes, laying on you heavily. Not that it bothered you. “____, baby.” He murmured. You nodded underneath him.

“Just so you know, I might wife you one of these days.” He said, tiptoeing around the idea.

You simply smiled and moved the hand on his throat up to the crown of his head, pressing him to your chest, cradling him. “Why don’t we clean up and go to our bed? I wanna cuddle you there.”

“Silk sheets,” he mumbled before humming in approval, still fucked out.

And just like that he kissed your chest a couple times before he slipped out of you and rolled all the way to the edge of the bed, placing his feet down and sitting up, taking in a big breath before standing up.

“Come on, little fox,” he said, slowly making his way to the bathroom.

“Carry me,” you whined, pouting.

And once more you were in his arms as he walked you into the bathroom, rinsing the both of you off from the sweat and… body fluids — mostly drool — before drying you up and heading to the master bedroom.

“You’ll have a lot of tiding up to do tomorrow,” he mumbled as you got in your sleeping position.

“Tomorrow is another day,” you mumbled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and falling asleep.

——————————————

“Did you pack everything?” you asked for the umpteenth time.

“I think I did,” he said. “If I didn’t well...” he shrugged. “The important stuff is already in,” he stated, more like confirming it to himself. He hugged you next.

You were standing in the underground parking lot, waiting for the van that was supposed to bring him and Yoongi to the airport. Actually, though, you were waiting for Yoongi.

“I’ll call you, you know.” He kissed your cheek, your nose, your forehead. “We’ll videocall,” he promised, kissing your lips. His hand touched your leg while his other arm hugged you to him.

The lift dinged, announcing the arrival of a very dishevelled Yoongi and a barely awake Kitten. She was wearing an oversized tshirt that you had seen on Yoongi several times, the dark purple splodges on her neck contrasting with her pale skin and the white cotton of the shirt.

“I don’t think she tried to kill him last night.” Namjoon chuckled.

“I think it was more the other way around. You sure he’s not a vampire?” you commented.

“Mmh. I wouldn’t be all that sure.” Namjoon tsked. “But who are we to judge?” he said, backhugging you. “Saw your thighs and chest this morning. Sorry,” he apologised.

“I liked it, though,” you replied, just as Yoongi approached the two of you, hand in hand with his girl, his other arm carrying his bag and carry on. He loaded the bags on the van.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said with a rough voice. He sniffled. His eyes were watery.

“It’s okay. Good morning, Kitten,” Namjoon said.

“Morning, Joon,” she replied. She squeezed Yoongi’s hand as the driver got out and opened the doors. It was Namjoon’s usual driver.

You waved at him and he smiled greeting you.

“We have to go, guys,” he announced, concerned.

Kitten cupped Yoongi’s cheeks and kissed him. All you heard her whisper was ‘You know it’. He nodded and nuzzled into her, her arms wrapping around him.

Namjoon hugged you tight. “I’ll call you. You need something, you call mr. Cho. You feel lonely, you call the girls, you text me and I’ll try to be there for you in any way I can. Keep yourself busy, babylove. I’ll be back soon, Vixen. Heard me?”

Your lip quivered, but you stayed strong and nodded.

“I love you, babything,” he said. “No one else. Just you.” He kissed you square on the mouth.

“I love you, Joon,” you said back, your voice thin.

“Just you. Are we clear?” He looked into your eyes deeply. Once more you nodded. “I’ll be back, and then it’ll be just us, one whole week,” he murmured. “Hold on for daddy, yeah?”

You smiled at him and nodded, hugging his neck.

He let go of you gently. “I’ll see you, Vixen.”

You waved at him as he got into the van.

Close by, Kitten dragged her thumb across Yoongi’s cheek as she let go of him, his feet hesitating before he started walking to the van.

In a few minutes, they were gone, the dark windows hiding Namjoon squeezing Yoongi’s hand as the older man crumbled, letting tears stain his jeans. And back in the parking lot, Kitten’s shoulders started shaking before she let her legs bend, hugging her knees to her chest as she rolled back and forth on the balls of her feet, tears falling quietly. You bent down beside her, patting her head and placing her head close to your chest.

“It’s gonna be alright,” you murmured simply.

And after repeating it a few times you felt it. That it would truly be alright.

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