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oftenderweapons · 3 years ago

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Down the Rabbit Hole | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (Mia)

Wordcount: 11.5k

Genre: smut, bdsm!au, strangers to… fwb? !au

Rating: 18+ Minors, please do not read or interact.

Synopsis: Mia has always been an observer at The Rabbit Hole, mostly because she felt a bit too cautious about getting her hands dirty. But once curiosity starts nipping at her she starts wondering, what would it be like to actually try all the things she’s been studying? Well, someone is willing to help her through it.

Warnings: obviously, BDSM themes, procede with caution. Negotiation of a BDSM scene, pleasure dom!Joon, sub!reader, brat!reader, camgirl!reader, mentions of sex work, voyeurism, exhibitionism, strip tease (sort of), making out, masturbation (mutual m.), unprotected oral sex (male and female receiving), cumplay, unprotected vaginal sex, overstimulation, post sex blues (dom drop). General emotional vulnerability, beware. Also, watch out for Jeonggukie HEHE (*collar and leash enter the convo*)

Thanking @joheunsaram and @nervous-moon for always tolerating my emotional sh!t lol 💖

Here you can find my masterlist!

Enjoy ✨💜

It wasn’t your first time at the Rabbit Hole, but it wasn’t like you’d been there that often. You’d been an observer, but always a shy one, always hidden behind a strategically placed one-way glass: the people performing behind it knew they had an audience, but maybe weren’t that comfortable with it being too overt. Or maybe it was meant for people who liked the idea of watching without being watched in return.

Now you were standing in the middle of the foyer, filling in your papers for the first time beyond that “voyeurism only” box.

Your hands were sweaty and you kept nervously pushing your hair back as you tried to understand whether any of the boxes you were ticking could actually be pleasant to you.

Your entire paper was a list of “maybe”, with the only exceptions being those related to voyeurism and exhibitionism. You knew you liked being watched, but you weren’t yet comfortable about performing in front of real people.

You twirled a lock of your hair between your fingers, going back and forth over it.

Orgasm control?

Orgasm denial?

Overstimulation?

You frowned. What if what you’d tried by yourself wasn’t half as pleasant with someone else in the equation?

Your perplexities grew until you just crossed all the maybes left and slipped the papers into the box.

As you went back to the garden you grabbed a flûte of champagne and found a comfortable corner to stand in. You looked around, a few eyes meeting yours and nodding in acknowledgement.

You nodded in return, always polite. You tried not to think if they’d ever seen you — without knowing, of course.

You recognised a couple faces from a few scenes you’d watched, smiling at a bubbly brunette man with a heart shaped grin.

He bowed his head at you before winking.

You shook your head and looked away. Kim Taehyung, you mused, remembering how he’d been a voyeur together with you during one scene.

Two men followed him, one on an elegant leash, the other wearing a leather corset that cinched his waist and left his chest bare.

You met both their gazes and bowed your head, the pet averting his eyes and his owner tugging at the leash gently, pulling him to a stop.

They walked towards you and you noticed the pet’s silver bell hanging from his collar. You also noticed how insanely pretty he looked.

“Good evening, miss,” the dark haired man said. “Such a shame to see someone left all alone over here.”

Your smile was a little tight. “Oh, it’s fine. I was just going through a quick assessment of the crowd.” You shrugged and tried not to let all your embarrassment and discomfort show. “It’s my first time being an active participant tonight, so I’m having a bit of cold feet.” Your giggle showed perfectly how nervous you were.

The pet looked at his owner for a quick second, apparently waiting for permission to speak. The man gave him a curt nod and the smaller, angelic-looking creature spoke. His voice was the most soothing sound you ever heard. “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous. I’m sure you’ll be assigned to someone who can diligently care for you.” The smile he offered his partner showed just how much trust ran between them. “I was assigned to Jeongguk months ago and the match was tailored to my needs so thoroughly that all the nerves melted away once I was with him.”

Jeongguk smiled at his partner with the most gentle gleam in his eyes. “It’s because it feels natural to take care of you. You make it too easy, my love.” He skimmed his lover’s cheek with the back of his hand and the pet closed his eyes and leaned in in gratitude.

You softened at the exchange, hoping that just like them you’d be eased into a caring person’s arms. You hoped they had all the abilities to slither in your mind and untangle all the years of doubts and uncertainties and curiosities. You hoped for firm hands and tender guidance, for open-mindedness and intelligence — in its most etymological sense, that of being able to read inside things.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be assigned to someone patient and trained to work with newbies,” Jeongguk’s smile reminded you of hot chocolate and marshmallows.

“I hope so. I would feel so disappointed if I ruined someone’s night.” You averted your gaze as you overtly spoke your sharpest fear.

“There’s no chance of that happening. Anyone would feel honoured to have you in their bed, or wherever you enjoy your endeavours best.” Jeongguk’s tentative innuendo made your insides flutter a little as heat pleasantly crept to your cheeks.

“Trust me, I’ll do anything in my power to please them.” Your eyes were steady as you stated your intent with surety. That was the only thing you were one hundred percent adamant about.

“And that is why you’ll be fine,” Jeongguk reassured you, bowing a little as he noticed the so-called master of the revels come out of his rooms. “I believe the time for doubts is over, miss. We’re getting started.”

The silver bell announced the assignments being completed. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, nodding at the two men before you. “I guess so. Enjoy your debauchery, dears.”

“You as well, darling,” the blonde replied, his face so soft and perfect, his eyes so sultry and sweet at the same time.

Jeongguk looked at his partner before tugging at the leash suggestively. “Let’s go, kitty.”

And they left.

You had to wait a couple minutes before your number was called and you were informed about your room. Nervous didn’t even begin to cover how you felt as you knocked at the door, waiting expectantly.

Nobody answered for a very long minute.

You grew even more tense as you knocked harder — maybe they hadn’t heard?

A few steps came from the opposite side of the door and it opened. “Yes?”

You were frozen there.

And the man in front of you froze too. He blinked rapidly twice. “Hello.”

“Hi, I’m Mia, I think I was assigned to you.”

“Mia, yes. Hello.” He smiled and dammit, a dimple appeared at his cheek. “I’m Namjoon. Lovely to meet you.” He stretched his hand forward and you stared at it for a couple — very rapid — heartbeats. Then you caught his palm in yours.

His hand was warm, just a little bit sweaty — which was reassuring because he had to be nervous too, after all — and his grip was solid but not aggressive or painful.

It was just perfectly tight. He seemed steady and reliable. The fact that his attire also gave him a grown-up, mature look contributed to you smiling at him shyly as you said, “Likewise.”

He let go of your hand and took a step aside, his body language inviting you in the room as he spread his arm and drew a half circle before him. “Sorry if I made you wait, I was reading your papers.”

His face looked relaxed as he got comfortable on a chaise far from the feet of the bed.

“I’m having a cup of tea, would you like me to order some for you, something to drink?” His stare was aimed at you, waiting for your reply.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” You sat at the chair matching his on the opposite side of a low table.

He put down the paper and took hold of his mug. “Would you like some time to read my paper or would you rather we get to know each other in a… chattier, more spontaneous way?”

You were caught just slightly off guard by his proposition, so you needed a few seconds to catch up. “Uhm, I don’t know, it’s my first time.” God, you felt so dumb.

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” He chuckled warmly before he startled. “Oh, are you okay with that nickname?”

Your chest felt a shy heat climb to the surface. “It’s lovely.”

You watched a fraction of tension leave his body. “Excellent. Would you like me to take the lead? I sort of assumed you’d prefer so.” He sucked his lips, probably referring to you being on the less dominant side — or so you thought you were.

“Sure. I’m pretty much exploring, therefore I think it would be more efficient if we headed where you’re more interested to go.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, staring straight ahead before he made eye contact with you and you felt the gaze of a professional inquirer starting to rummage through your cues, both physical and verbal. “Well… You mentioned having several experiences as a voyeur. What brought you to enter the games as a participant?”

He observed your fingers as you fiddled with them on your lap.

“I’ve seen many, many things in the last few months. They look nice on other people, but I’m wondering whether they would work on me.” You shrugged with one shoulder. “I guess I’m a quintessentially curious being.”

He nodded appreciatively. “I’m certain this trait of yours will be greatly rewarded throughout your life.” The way his eyes were once more piercing through your face got you on edge again. You felt electric. “And why explore now, why here?”

Your embarrassed giggle gave away too much for you to lie or omit and save some crumbs of dignity. “I’ve never had someone I was free to experiment with. None of my previous partners made me feel safe enough for me to… unravel, I guess. And here I feel like I’m doing things for myself, rather than for the other person — or people. Also, the fact that we’re matched because the other person has similar interests to our own makes it more… I don’t know. It makes me feel like I don’t have to be the person my partner has imagined me to be.”

Namjoon nodded again, looked away and stayed silent as he had one more sip of tea. You could tell he was thinking, but the silence made you nervous anyway. What if he thought you were strange, or difficult or messed up or—

“Expectations can sadly form a cage that makes us uncomfortable even around those who should make us the most at ease.” He arched an eyebrow and pointed his sharp gaze on your eyes. “And before we start forming cages ourselves, I guess I must tell you something, Mia.”

Your eyebrows arched in surprise. “Sure.”

“I believe I’ve seen you before.” He blinked slowly. “I’m quite the voyeur myself,” he said, shifting in the chair to make himself more comfortable. The shift in position also managed to make him look bigger and more authoritative in the process. “Please, correct me if I’m mistaken, but is it possible that you own a channel for adult content called White Lies?”

You froze. There had been a couple stares that made you wonder whether you’d ever been recognised, but you rarely showing your face on your videos and always wearing a mask when there could be slip-ups had to have protected you in most occasions. Still… “How did you…?”

When you didn’t finish your question and let the silence linger, Namjoon realised you were going to let it hang like that. So he stepped in. “Your voice and the moles on the side of your neck.” He hesitated. “The shape of your lips, too.”

You knew your entire body and to be glowing with heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m the sorry one.” He stood up. “I’m genuinely appalled I put you in this position. You can leave, if you’d like. Or I can. Whatever suits you best.” He took several steps away from you, making sure he wasn’t even possibly remotely invading your personal space.

“It’s… Why would you leave?” You asked, perplexed.

“You seemed uncomfortable and I realised that some people might prefer these kinds of affairs to stay unspoken. I know nothing of you and your preferences and I should have approached the matter more tactfully.”

You shook your head. You had managed to make the sweet man before you panic and you felt so uncomfortable with yourself. You huffed out a stressed breath and tried to explain how you were feeling. “That’s… That’s not… I don’t really care about that, Namjoon. It’s just that it’s the first time someone has addressed the topic with me. If I’ve ever been recognised, no one ever confronted me about it.” You stood and took a step toward him, showing through your body language that he needn’t be so formal around you.

“It’s the first time I’m one hundred percent sure the person in front of me had watched me—” you searched for the right wording, “engage in sexual acts.”

His eyes met yours fugaciously. It was brief and shameful. “I wanted you to know this. I felt like the field was uneven. Like you were fighting up from downhill while I sat on top of the hill.”

You found the analogy amusing, but you left that for later. “Then thank you for evening the field.” Your smile was kind, hopefully reassuring. “You watch my content?”

He nodded, arching an eyebrow and sucking his cheek. “I do.”

“And you’re here,” you mused, scrutinising his frame. He looked solid, large, well-built. And he oozed a specific brand of charisma that must have made plenty of people swoon around him, eager to throw themselves at him.

“As you said, it’s not easy to deal with expectations.” His eyes held something sardonically ironic, but also charmingly dark. “I quite project the Prince Charming, but I reckon my tastes greatly differ.”

Your eyebrows arched upwards. You were immensely interested, but firstly you replied, “You’ve seen what I do. It’s not something my partners would have been expecting either.” You cocked your head to the side, now being your turn to ask questions. “Now I’m curious, what is it that your tastes request?”

His eyes skated down your curves. “Plenty of things you’ve shown enjoying.”

“Which entails…?”

“Which entails watching someone put on a show for me. Lingerie. Lap dances. Jewel toys. A thoroughly tailor-made eye candy with the brain of a nympho. Someone willing to explore. Someone playfully obedient. Someone who can discuss the history of visual design while a vibrator is making them cum non stop — yes, that one is a personal favourite, Doll.”

You licked your lips and undid the first button of your dress.

Namjoon stared at the small triangle of skin that emerged, then he focused on your face again.

“Did we ever interact through video?”

“No.” His reply was brief but not rude, probably cut short by the fact that one more button had come undone.

“That’s a shame.” You didn’t know what you were doing. It’s not like you usually were the initiator. “I believe we would have had plenty of fun together. I’m eager to please and it seems like you’re pleased by unspeakably erotic acts.”

“If only you knew, Mia.” He followed the movements of your hands with hawk eyes as you moved to the third button.

He stepped forward harshly and caught your hands. “I believe that’s my job, Doll.”

You licked your lips, suddenly void of moisture. “Then you should see to it getting done.” His hands weren’t clammy this time, they were steady and inescapable.

“Are you sure, Mia?”

“Never been surer.” And it was true. He had seen you behind closed doors. He had read your papers, he’d been considerate and he’d been open. Maybe you were the worst judge of character, but from his looks and the twenty minutes or so you had spent together, you were sure you wouldn’t regret baring yourself to him.

He undid one more button, the lace of your bra starting to emerge.

“Do you like what you usually do for the camera?” He asked, looking at the row of buttons in a way that made it easier for you to speak.

“There are some things I like more.”

“I want to know all of them.” And once more his intense gaze was pinning your own. “Tell me.”

“I liked the thing you mentioned earlier, with the vibrator.”

“You do have a bunch of videos like that.” He lowered himself, kneeling before you as he reached the buttons on your pelvis. “What else?”

You shook your head, one more button coming undone, Namjoon focused on the tiny bead before he realised you had been silent for too long. He angled his face towards you, scrutinising your visage. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head and smiled sweetly, endeared by the way he was so careful with you. “Not at all.” You felt your lips curl into a pout. “It's just that… I guess I know what I like when I'm alone, but with another person, a man… I'm not experienced enough.”

His fingers trembled slightly as he undid the button before your navel. He hesitantly let his digits trace the shape of your waist, his touch so light it caused goosebumps to erupt on your skin, making you shudder.

He removed his hands quickly, but you caught his wrists and brought his hands back to your waistline, this time making his palms fully connect with your body.

“How much experience do you have, precisely?” His voice was so delicate, so quiet, and so deep.

You wanted to feel it against your neck. You also wished your dress was already on the floor, you wished his hands were bare on your bare skin, but the viscose was still opposing a smooth barrier between the two of you.

“I did some foreplay once, when I was in college.” You shrugged. “And then I dated mostly girls. I'm not… Let's say it's been a while since I've interacted with a penis in real life, and then again, I only touched one, maybe three times, that's all.”

Namjoon inhaled and held his breath. “That's all? Are you sure?” He asked, realising how it sounded only once he read the look on your face. “God, that sounded rude. It just feels bizarre that someone… That what you did— What you do… With White Lies… And then you don't—” He rose to his feet, eager to have this conversation face to face.

“I'm not celibate, Namjoon. I'm familiar with silicone and glass dicks, it's just that the flesh ones attached to human beings are usually too confusing. Too many emotions, sensations, too much subtext. Intimacy is complex, and I focus on it too much to enjoy the sex. Not to mention it usually sucks to find a good personality, an open mind and an understanding soul attached to the dick.”

He arched an eyebrow and nodded to himself. His palms shifted to the small of your back. “It makes sense.” He lifted his hands off, leaving only the fingertips of his middle fingers tracing patterns so light it almost felt like you were imagining them. “So you know what you like by yourself, but you wouldn't know what you enjoy with a man, since you've never tried anything, except from what you did three times in college — which is around five years ago, if I'm assuming correctly.”

“Four,” you corrected him. “But yes, you're correct.”

“What did you do? Did you like it?”

“Uhm… A couple handjobs, maybe a blowjob, sort of. It was all very… I was too focused on trying to do it right to understand whether I was enjoying it.” You took a step closer to him, Namjoon inhaling sharply as you did so, taking in your perfume.

You did so too, his cologne invading your senses. It smelled clean and light, just right. “I just want to try everything I cannot do by myself. I want to know how different a real dick feels, I want to feel how it's really like to be fucked by a man. I want to feel a man orgasm in my hands, if it feels as powerful as it seems when you watch it happen. I want to trace my nails against a man's strong torso while I ride his dick. I want to feel hands that are not my own gripping my boobs, grabbing my ass, sinking into my thighs.”

His eyes burned into yours. “You want to feel a real dick, you say,” he mused. “Can do.” And he lowered himself once more to his knees.

You expected a different reaction and he seemed to read the confusion on your face.

“Patience, Doll. I'll give it to you, just not yet. There's no fun in skipping bases.” You would have defined his expression as gluttonous as he pulled you closer and pressed his lips to your stomach.

Tentatively, he pressed his wrists to the small of your back, slowly lowering his hands to touch the upper curve of your glutes. “You can stop me at any time, Doll. I'll slow down and check in on you at 'yellow', stop at 'red'.”

“I know how it works, don't worry,” you spoke calmly, reassuring him.

“Good.” His hands moved back to your front, finally addressing the last few buttons left.

The first uncovered the waistband of your panties, the following one exposed the lace-clad skin of your mound to his warm breath, which trembled softly as Namjoon exhaled.

He looked up at you, his lips agape, then traced the little bow on the front of your panties with the tip of his nose, his mouth skimming skin that no one had touched in so long.

“I bet you can't touch yourself like this, mh?” He murmured, his tone so dark and lush it felt like diving in molten chocolate. “I bet you're too impatient to touch yourself like this.” He undid another button while his face still lingered one breath away from your navel. “Feel it, Doll.”

And suddenly your dress was open, agape on your lingerie-clad figure.

“Focus on it,” he teased.

His hands landed like butterflies on the side of your knees, below the hem of your dress, then traced your calves, all the way to your ankles. “As lovely as you look in these heels, I don't think you're gonna need them in a long while, Mia. You need to go anywhere, you'll do so in my arms. Lean on me, sweetheart,” he invited you kindly, with a type of surety that didn't make you doubt his intentions. He was okay with you doing so, and that's why he had told you to do it. You were fine with it.

Your hand landed on his shoulder and that was it: your entire being was pervaded by the utter power he exuded. He felt as solid as he seemed.

You lifted your foot to help him take off your shoe, then you did the same with the other side.

His hand went back to your knee, his eye studying it until he traced a little scar there with his thumb. He kissed it next. “What happened there, sweetheart?”

You wiggled your toes, suddenly nervous at the way he was seducing you with little touches and the kind of attention you'd never received before. It was like he was learning you. In maybe forty minutes he had done a better job at understanding you than most people in your everyday life.

“I fell while ice skating. Back in high school.”

He kissed it again, this time more sensually, his lips softer and wetter. “It must have been a nasty cut for it to leave such a scar.”

“It was.” You reached for his hair, touching it lightly, almost scared to startle him.

He looked up at you.

You smiled at him and his face lit up in what looked like wonder before he smiled back at you.

“Come here,” you instructed him, tracing the slopes of his shoulders on the way to his neck, your fingers touching his nape, pulling up a little as a cue.

Instead he just closed his eyes and sighed. “I like my neck being touched,” he said, letting the muscles relax as his head tipped back, exposing the glorious column of his throat.

You studied it with your eyes before feeling it with the tips of your thumbs. “So convenient that it looks so sexy.” He purred at the compliment and you felt the sound vibrate beneath your digits. “And it feels pretty amazing that you're kneeling, but if you come up here I could kiss your neck and that sounds even more amazing in my humble opinion.”

He opened his eyes lazily, smiled and stood slowly. “It's nice having a neck to kiss, mh?”

“It's nice having someone to kiss it, mh?” You teased in return.

His little chuckle made your inside flutters, especially as now he was towering over you and his hands were once more resting on your butt. “I can't see why you're still talking and not kissing.” He argued back cockily.

You stretched to your tiptoes and managed to reach his collarbone.

And then you felt it. He arched his hips forward, his pelvis suddenly pressed against your belly. It stole your breath.

He had to be damn hung if you could feel his erection so blatantly against you. “You wanted to feel a real dick, right?” His voice rumbled so close to your ear.

“Yeah… Yes, I did. I do.” Words weren't easy to find. You were stuttering, distracted, your mind so frail.

He cackled, half mocking, half pleased. His hands shamelessly pressed you further into him, cupping your ass harshly needily. “I remember a request for your butt to be grabbed, or something along that line. Do you like it harder?”

There was only one hard thing you could possibly be focusing on.

Actually two, since breathing wasn't exactly an easy task either at the moment.

“You're hard enough, I guess.”

“I could go harder,” he said, lowering his mouth to your ear. “But let's focus on your butt and the grabbing for now. Am I too rough, Mia?”

“No,” you exhaled. “You're just perfect.” And it was bloody true.

“Excellent.” He took half a minuscule step back, giving your backside a final squeeze before he removed the tension altogether, his hands just resting there. “I think it's my turn to be undressed. What do you say, Doll?”

You licked your lips, realising you were both tiptoeing around the way your mouth and his felt like magnets, gravitating closer and closer to each other, feeling that dangerous, numbing pull that made it too easy to forget you were technically strangers.

Your hands found the button at his collar and you gave him a little reprieve by focusing on his shirt rather than on his face — or on the undeniable, unforgettable bulge below his belt.

On your tiptoes, you kissed the sliver of newly uncovered skin. It was hesitant, and you didn’t know if it affected him just as much as his kisses had affected you. His hum however was an effective cue, and you repeated the gesture as the following button came undone, all the way down until the garment rested open on his torso and you could slip your hand inside the lapels to touch his sturdy abdomen.

It had a little give against your hands, but it was undeniable the muscles underneath were trained and strong, even though they rested under a layer of soft flesh.

You were ready to push the shirt off when he stopped you and offered his cuff. “Undo this one, please.”

You frowned but undid the button there too, looking into his eyes as he offered the other wrist. One more button undone.

“Any more buttons to undo?”

He turned his back to you and walked to his chaise. “Don’t give me sass, Mia.” And he sat. Rolled up his sleeves — the left one first, the right one second.

Good lord, his forearms were corded in muscles.

He caught you gawking and chuckled at you, shaking his head. “Come stand in front of me, sweetheart.”

You tried to bring some moisture to your mouth, following his request and finding yourself once more under his meticulous scrutiny.

He let his torso fill the back of the chair, almost flaring as he grabbed his cup of tea and took a sip. He looked so… large, just large. Massive. And you knew he wasn’t all that muscular or tall or bulky compared to some of the guys you had seen, but his demeanour managed to make up for what he lacked — if he could ever be considered lacking, that is — in sheer confidence. It was true dominance, the one that comes from knowledge and honed skills and talent. Nature had gifted him prodigally and he’d worked on his gift diligently.

So when he said, “Put on a pretty show for me, sweetheart”, it came natural for you to drop your dress to the floor and stand before him in your sage coloured lingerie.

“I love the colour, Mia. It compliments you deliciously.”

You felt heat creep to your cheeks and at the same time spread to your inner thighs. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He grinned. “You have no idea how much.”

You licked your lips and stared at his lap. “I guess I do.”

If you weren’t a grown up woman with an extended porn library, you would have dropped your panties at the smirk he threw you.

“Be patient, doll.” He put down his cup and leaned with his elbows to his knees, his chin propped on his laced fingers. “Show me how much it pleases you, then.”

Was that… Was it…?

He noticed your confusion and cocked his head to the side. “Did I say something wrong? Was I inappropriate?”

You shook your head, eager to reassure him he was being fine — by far the finest experience you’d had ever, actually. “No, I was just confused. I don’t know what you’re expecting, that’s all.”

He stared transfixed at the sweet smile on your face, blinked at it as if you were an unsolvable equation. “I’m not expecting anything, Mia.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index before pinching the bridge of his nose. He exhaled and relaxed once more against the chair.

Had you stressed him? God, you were being impossible. Men came here to bring their basest fantasies to reality while you were being a vanilla little prude and he was paying all that money to deal with nothing but a disappointment. He just wanted to unwind and yet you were making him frown and get blue balls.

Your arms furled before you, your body suddenly too exposed.

“Mia,” he called, watching your forearm cover your chest, your wrist resting protectively over your lap. “Oh, god, Mia.” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, sweetheart. Come here, please.” He stretched his arms forward and you took an hesitant step toward him. “Come, doll. Sit on my lap, would you like that?”

You thought about it, blinking repeatedly, biting your lip in an expression which must have recalled something of a scolded puppy. “I’m sorry I’m disappointing you,” you said, your voice betraying all your insecurities.

“You aren’t, doll.” His voice was so calm and tender. “I’m trying to play your game, here, Mia. I want to make you comfortable, I want to watch you do everything you like.” He shook his head. “I just realised I have no idea about it, I’m biased by what I watched on your channel. I want to be your fantasy, Mia, but I have no idea what you would like that to be.”

You realised that, at that point, sitting on his lap was as soothing to you as it was to him, so you walked the last step to him and got comfortable in his arms. “I don’t think I have a fantasy either. I just focus on the camera half the time. The other half I watch myself and ask if I’m similar enough to what men want to see.”

“Fuck it, doll. That sounds awful, Mia.” His arms wrapped around you. “What about your own pleasure, sweetheart? What about what you want?”

You shook your head and frowned. “I guess I’ve never thought about it, really. It doesn’t feel like a priority.”

“Well, we’ll make it the priority tonight.” Namjoon cupped your cheek and pressed his forehead to yours. “That’s my priority, now.”

“But what about your fantasies?”

He smiled and shook his head, his nose rubbing against yours in the process. “I guess we’ll have to postpone that to our next encounter, what do you think? Would you like it so, sweetheart?”

Next encounter? “You haven’t done anything with me and you already want to see me again? What if we don’t click or… I don’t know, maybe you don’t like me?”

“I wouldn’t have undressed you if I didn’t like you, Mia.” His thumb rubbed your cheek in comfort. “And the last hour or so would have never happened, doll.”

You were caught off guard entirely. “My pleasure this time, your pleasure next time, you were saying.” You tried to bring your brain to recap.

“Yes sweetheart, but if you don’t want a next time—”

“I do,” you clarified abruptly. “As long as it works, for both of us, this time.” You nodded, trying to form an overall thought of the entire situation.

His eyes were diving into yours. “I’ve got you, Mia. My kink is giving pleasure to my partner until they can’t stand it anymore.”

You stilled at his admission.

“When I saw your papers all I saw in those 'maybes' was how many ways I could try to make you come undone until tears streamed down your face and your body was so exhausted it needed me to pamper it back into functioning.” He licked his lips and swallowed, trying to control himself, apparently. “When I tell you to put up a show for me, doll, I’m trying to bring you to your most familiar scenario. I’m trying to enjoy you feeling yourself.”

Where did this man come from? How did the universe, and society shape such a treat to womankind?

Your face formed a helpless expression as you found no possible answer. You just leaned forward and placed your lips against his cheek. “Thank you so much.”

He looked at you as you leaned back, his hand still holding your face. “No biggie, doll. But please, don’t ever cover up in front of me. It broke my heart to see you close off.”

You pouted your lips and nodded. “I won’t.”

“Good.” He simply stared at you in silence and you could feel a faint bond form between the two of you.

“Can I please put on a show for you now?” You asked in a voice so tiny you doubted it had actually come from you.

He eyed you suspiciously, as if assessing your well-being. “Is that what pleases you, doll?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what we’re doing, lovely.” His hand steadied you on your feet and you took some steps back, reaching the feet of the bed and climbing it, plopping your ass down on the balls of your feet as your arm reached back, to the clasp of your bra.

You felt the pressure ease as you snapped it open and slipped it off.

You allowed yourself a quick glance at Namjoon, finding him once more leaning forward, studying your every move.

You grinned and threw your bra at him.

His dark chuckle made your insides feel like uncorked champagne.

You rose to your knees and let your hands trace the back of your thighs before grabbing your ass, kneading it slowly and thoroughly before you gave it a playful slap that made him hiss and groan.

“That sounded pretty good on you, mh?” You teased him.

“The noise was amazing. And that jiggle… Looks exquisite, doll.”

“Don’t you wanna feel it under your hands?”

He tutted. “Later.” He waited for half a second. What were you going to do? Were you going to touch yourself? He hoped so. He was aching for you to do so.

You turned around and this time you weren’t afraid to bare yourself to him. Your boobs looked tender and full even three feet away from where you were sitting, Namjoon praying he would someday get to sink his face between them.

“What do you want to do now?” You asked him, your hands cupping your breasts, your thumbs massaging your nipples, a chill crossing the room and causing them to peak almost painfully.

“Watch you.”

“You can watch me while you spank me, you know.” Your eyes twinkled. “But maybe you don’t want to.”

“I want to, doll.” He wanted you to command yourself, but at this point he assumed from your requests you needed to be directed. And before acting on his assumption, he asked, “Do you need me to tell you what to do, Mia? Do you need guidance, sweetheart?”

No hesitation. “Please,” you replied as soon as the question left his lips.

“I’ll leave you room to act around my requests, okay? I don’t want you to feel forced into things that make you uncomfortable, yes?” His tone would have been patronising if it weren’t for the way he empowered you constantly, leaving you ins and outs of things.

“Okay. And I’ll tell you if anything makes me uncomfortable, if that makes you more at ease.”

“You’re such a sweetheart. Thank you, doll.” His grin was thankful and playful at the same time. “Would you like to touch yourself for me, Mia? Make yourself come for me?”

You nodded. That you could do, that you would do. That you knew you could manage. “In which position?”

He shook his head with an incredulous smile. “Whichever you like best, lovely.”

“Can I look at you while I do it?”

“I really hope you do, baby.”

God, his voice was like honey and you were a restless busy bee trying to get as much as you could. “Panties off?”

“You want them off, they’re off, doll. Anything you like. I’m here to watch, everything is up to you.”

So you grabbed some pillows, fluffed them up in the middle of the bed, then laid down, your torso propped on the pillow, your legs bent as you lifted your hips and slipped off your panties. And spread your legs.

Namjoons felt ravenous “Closer, doll.”

You bent your legs further and brought your ass closer to the edge of the bed. “Like this?”

You heard the chair scrape against the floor, but he didn’t come too close, some respectable two feet left between the two of you.

You looked into his eyes as you brought your middle and ring finger to your mouth and soaked them in your saliva. And then moved them to your folds.

You immediately realised the extra lubrication was useful but unnecessary. You were soaked.

“Is it wet, Mia?”

You grinned. “Dripping.”

“Would you taste yourself for me, pet?” His saccharine smile made him undeniable.

You sunk your digits inside your hole, stretched yourself and purred — just for his hearing pleasure — before extracting your fingers, teasing your clitoris with sadistic intent, making him wait, and then bringing your hand to your mouth, delivering a kitten lick to the moisture coating your fingertips.

“Fucking sin you are, Mia,” he groaned, palming his crotch as he fixed his erection inside his pants.

“Can you believe it? I’m the sweetest,” you provoked him with a coquettish look.

He bit his lip. “Never doubted it, doll.”

“Am I making you hard?” You asked, a bit needy.

“You’re hitting all the right spots, sweetheart. You don’t realise the effect you have on people, Mia. The effect you have on me.” His hands rubbed his thighs as he tried to focus, but your fingers were drawing torturous circles on your core and the fact that your pussy was perfectly shaved and he could see how pink it was, how wet, the fact that he could hear the sound of it squelching as it welcomed your fingers — just two girly, lithe fingers, a ridicule comparison to his dick…

He was pretty sure the world could end and his only regret was not meeting you sooner enough to have a taste of you — and maybe fuck you for at least five years or so.

“Can I come?” The question came naturally, like it always did whenever you live streamed for your audience. But this time the audience was just one person, who happened to be very sure about the answer.

“Of course you can, anytime you want for however many times you fancy, doll.” He forced himself to lean back, only because the pressure gathered at his lap was hurting him. He needed more room.

“Can I ask for a… an encouragement, so to say? Visual aid…”

Namjoon’s eyes darted to yours like arrows. “Anything.”

“Your shirt. Off.”

He grinned. “That’s easy.” And off it went. And then, there was his chest, all of it. And there were his hands touching it, rubbing it, stroking it. There were his fingers wrapping around the base of his neck as you got louder, as your hips started rocking back and forth, as they lifted off the mattress and suddenly you were riding your high, eager, hungry, desperate, calling his name just once.

“Yes, baby. It’s me. It’s all for me,” he growled possessively, his eyes never leaving your wrecked body while his hand headed south and cupped his crotch, his own hips rocking against his hand as suddenly he couldn’t postpone his release anymore. “You look so beautiful, Mia. You’re an erotic epiphany, doll. A fucking revelation.”And he said it with such wonder in his voice you wanted to give him more, you wanted to give him everything. You wanted to show him everything you could and would do for him.

With your fingers still inside you, you rose to your knees, feeling your breast starting to bounce as you moved your digits to your clitoris and started working your hips in tandem to the rhythm of your hand. You sat on your heels and spread your thighs as far as they could go before you lightly tapped your breast with your free hand. “Touch yourself, Namjoon. I want to see you jerk yourself off. I want to see how easy you come while watching me.”

With his shirt off it was even easier to notice his breathing catch in his throat before he drew out a shuddering exhale. “Sure?”

“Yes.” And as a further eye candy you wrapped your forearm around your chest to squish up your breasts, their plumpness emphasised just as their wiggling. “I want to see your dick, Namjoon. And I know it’s big, which makes me even more needy.”

“It’s regular sized,” he said, trying to defend himself sheepishly.

“I don’t wanna fight about the size of your dick, just take it out and let me see it.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Pretty demanding, don’t you think?”

“Pick your poison, handsome,” you replied sassily.

He looked pleasantly surprised but he didn’t complain as he quickly undid his belt, his button and the zipper, pushing his hand inside his underwear and helping his erection out of its restraints.

It was thick. That was the first thing you thought. So thick it would probably take you four fingers to get ready for that. Probably fucking yourself with a dildo first and then ambitiously try to take him was the only way for it to work.

“How the hell do you fuck with that?” You asked, slowing down as you watched him move his hand on himself.

He shrugged. “Plenty of lube, plenty of patience, and plenty of foreplay. Nothing I would complain about, but I would prefer having a smaller one.”

It was so… The length was manageable, but the width… Dammit, you could see the veins pulsating from two feet away.

He frowned at the dryness of his hand and tucked himself back in quickly as he stood up.

“No, why!” You cried, watching him walk to the bedside drawer and fish out a bottle. He showed it to you. “Oh. Sorry, that’s okay,” you commented, trying not to show how much the sight of him had been a delight to you.

Once back to the comfort of his chair, he unwrapped himself again and poured some lube on his palm, closing the bottle and putting it down before warming the liquid by rubbing his hands together.

You didn’t know where to look as his palms went separate ways, one landing on his chest, the other wrapping around the tip of his erection.

You moaned at the sight: his chest bare and now glistening with lubrication, his fingers wrapped around his throat, rubbing there, his hips starting to push into his hands as he fucked his fist slowly, intentfully, and his head thrown back as he growled in pleasure, the sound so raw it made your toes curl.

Once he managed enough self control to re-establish eye contact with you, you were both so feral with pleasure that each movement caused the other to one up their game, in a ceaseless attempt to overdo each other.

You crumbled first, your palm propping yourself up on the mattress as you snapped forward, fucking yourself with three fingers, your thumb attempting to stay on your clit for however long you managed.

And his name came out of your lips like a litany of gasps and sighs, desperate to finally feel him below you, to feel how a real man can fuck you.

“Mia,” he called, his voice sounding breathier, more urgent. His chest looked so powerful as it followed his respiration, expanding majestically and deflating slowly. “I’m close.”

You shook your head. “Don’t.”

His eyes went wide.

“I haven’t made a man come in years. Not with my hands, not with my mouth.” You stared at him, hell-bent on experiencing the very thing that had convinced you to go from voyeur to actual participant. “It’s mine.”

Namjoon felt the words tug at his stomach, ten million butterflies soaring through his overcrowded lungs. He removed his hands entirely — the message was clear: it wasn’t his orgasm to conjure, his body wasn’t his to touch. It was yours now.

You crawled off the bed and covered the two steps dividing you before you settled between his conveniently spread thighs. Stretching to the table, you grabbed the lube, covered both your hands in it and wrapped them confidently around his shaft, half an inch impeding your fingertips from meeting around the circumference of him.

“This is gonna feel so good inside me,” you mused, not even looking at Namjoon as he prepared for his soul to leave his body.

It happened way faster than he had expected, especially as you didn’t start pumping him with both your fists like he had anticipated, but you wrapped your mouth around the tip and started bobbing your head in tandem with your hands.

“Holy fucking shit, Mia.” He gripped the sides of the chair to keep himself from grabbing your hair and possibly causing you to gag on him or panic. “What are you… shit!”

Your tongue toyed with his frenulum and the happy look on your face as you slapped his leaking tip to the flat of your tongue made him snap his head back, his hips jerking up.

You were high on power. It had taken maybe ten seconds for handsome, polished, smooth Namjoon to swear three times and forget the Oxford dictionary he had probably installed in his brain. Well-spoken, well-dressed and well-educated, he was now a babbling, sweaty, dripping mess crying for your mouth, for his pleasure, for relief. You offered it to him selflessly.

Not caring about his messy hands, you found his wrist and led one to your head. “Gently,” you requested, and as he found the strength to meet your eyes, he caressed your hair, not trusting himself to linger too long and dig his fingers into your locks, cup the back of your head and just… thrust in.

Once you went all out with a swirling tongue, with drenched palms and fingers, combining squeezing and sliding and twisting, he lasted maybe a minute. Words left his mind and all he did was call your name, or sigh, or moan, or growl when you pressed the tip of your tongue to the slit of his tip.

“Gonna cum,” he growled in warning, but you just kept going, until he was filling your mouth with his release.

Nobody had ever come in your mouth before and your eyes shot open, the sensation bizarre but not unpleasant. And he tasted… It tasted interesting. A bit sour and salty, but not outright bad.

You slipped him out of your mouth and before you could swallow you noticed he was still dripping and a solitary droplet had landed on your breast.

You stared at it, curious and amused, looking up at Namjoon to see if he was as fascinated as you were with it.

His gaze met yours with a blissful smile, but once he noticed you avert your eyes, once he saw what you were seeing and your stares met again, both of your expressions turned ravenous.

His excitement encouraged you to open your mouth and show him the reward for your hard work, his orgasm pooling on your tongue.

“Mia, sweetheart,” he rasped.

Your eyes stayed fixed on his as you selected three fingers from your hand and stuck them in your mouth, scooping up as much of his release as you could. And then your attention shifted downwards following your digits as you smeared Namjoon’s semen over your breast, tracing a line all the way down to your sodden, oversensitive folds.

Namjoon breathed through his mouth before he managed to say, “Bloody hell, you’re perfect”, then proceeded to bend down and smash his mouth to yours.

There was never a pretence of a kiss. It was making out from the start — though probably mouth-fucking would have been a more accurate word choice.

His tongue twined with yours, with swirls and thrusts and dives. It felt like sparring with swords. You both breathed through your noses as you kept kissing, his hands grabbing you by the back of your legs as he picked you up and managed to set you astride his thighs. Once your chest was glued to his, your fingers burrowed deep into his hair and your arms crossed behind his neck, he fixed his grip and pulled himself to his feet, carrying you in the process.

“I’m gonna fuck you so filthy, Mia.” He kissed your neck, nibbling on it before adding, “I knew you would be the fuck of my life, but this… This is insane. You’re gonna drive me insane, sweetheart.” He placed you in the middle of the bed and removed his trousers and underwear.

You awaited him with spread legs, waiting to be covered by his scorching flesh, by the weight of his body. Instead, he crawled and licked your chest, his tongue tracing the path your fingers had drawn with his orgasm, making a detour only to suck your nipple in his mouth, which was open so wide he managed to swallow a portion of your breast too. And once he started pumping it in his mouth… Well, your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his head and you feared for his well-being as you realised you had to be neutralised for him to ever be released from you. Both your and his pelvises were grinding against anything they could find, looking for friction.

“If you ever mark yourself with my cum again, I’m gonna have to make you mine permanently, sweetheart.”

The thought made you shudder in pleasure. The idea of belonging to someone… It felt great, even though you should remember Namjoon was still mostly a stranger to you. He could be a horrible person, really.

But it was hard to believe when every small gesture gave away so much of the amazing, considerate, empathetic human being he had to be.

You caressed his head as he dedicated himself to your other nipple, your nails purring against the skin of his shoulder-blades in a way that made him hum deliciously against your suckled flesh.

“Are you gonna make me beg to have you inside me?”

“There are other items before that one on the list.”

You chuckled and arched your chest off the bed as you commented, “There’s a list? Next time I would appreciate it being forwarded to me via email, possibly two to four working days in advance, so I can formally approve it.”

Namjoon gloated at the thought of a next time. “Next time I’m gonna stuff your mouth with your panties so I don’t have to deal with your sass.”

“Come on, the sass makes up for half the fun.”

He bit your breast — not harshly, but enough for it to sting. “You know, if you pulled another blowjob like that one, you could convince me to keep your mouth always free and available.”

He crawled further down, peppering little bites and hickeys down your stomach and navel, until he concluded the path your fingers had traced all the way to your clit. “Now let’s see if I can stop you bitching around like this.”

And he went all out. Right on your sensitive, overstimulated clitoris.

His tongue was all over the place, his cheeks sucking at your labia, at every bit of skin that could flush and blush and flutter, until your whole being was melting and another orgasm possessed you so viciously Namjoon had to hold you down to keep you from thrashing around and potentially hurting him.

Truth was that him not stopping after the third caused the fourth one to be triggered mere seconds after the previous one, your legs wrapping around his head and squeezing him almost painfully.

He moaned, pressing his hips to the mattress, grinding against it, until he was pleased by the fact that he was hardening again.

He could do so much to you, and yet, he just wanted his face covered in your cum, his dick covered in your cum, all of him marked in something yours.

“Mia, sweetheart…” He cooed, his fingers deep inside you while he took his time to rest his tongue, which was about to cramp.

“You're so good at this. Why are you so good at this,” you rambled, lost, your eyes shut tight, your heels digging in the mattress as your hips buckled up, almost hitting his chin.

“Mia, easy,” he said, his tone just barely chastising, most surely amused.

“I can't anymore…” you whined, your knees shutting together.

Namjoon managed to slither away from you, kissing your leg, your navel, your hands after he caught them in his own, untangling them from his hair and bringing your palms to his lips. “Breathe, Mia.”

You forced your lungs to go from shallow gasps to full, round inhales.

“Just like that, sweetheart.” His smile was reassuring and calm, but you couldn’t focus, not with the wetness covering his chin, with the way he grinned like a drunken predator.

You cupped his jaw and pulled him up to you, parting your legs so he could nestle in between them. And as he tried to descend with his face on yours, you blocked him, looking into his eyes intently as you licked the slickness covering his chin and lips.

His mouth opened and he released a heavy, hot exhale. It was erotic to say the least. As was the following grin. “You want to taste everything, don’t you, Mia?” His dimples, the lopsided smile, the knowing look in his eyes, and that hungry gleam in his irises were completely overpowering your will.

He was darkly wild, ready to pounce, willing to push and keep pushing until he got you as filthy as he could, until he saw every particle of your body go from untainted to downright unredeemable.

He stole the taste of you from your tongue with a searing kiss — or rather, with reckless licks of his own tongue into your mouth. His saliva dripped all over your lips and he sucked at them, wrapping his plush mouth against your bottom lip, then against the tip of your tongue, suctioning at the skin, so slippery and hot and tender. All that flesh, and your hot breath spilling from your open mouth and right against his nose. He could feel you the way one does with the smell of lush, humid soil in a torrid summer. He could experience you, with closed eyes, unseeing, and feeling, feeling it all.

The smooth, supple skin of your thighs against his, the cushiony feel of your breasts under his chest, the tickling touch of your hair against his arm.

“Mia…” he sighed, his eyes opening slowly as your hand found his wrist and led his stained fingers to your mouth. “Oh, Mia.”

He just shook his head, longing clawing at his lineaments as his digits rested on your tongue, your lips curled around them as you sucked them, twirling your tongue until nothing was left of your taste.

“I like this a lot,” you confessed breathlessly. “I didn’t know I wanted this. And now I need it so much, Namjoon.”

He was painfully hard and he could only blame you. “Take it, then. Take everything, Mia.”

Your hand slid down his side, till it reached the small of his back. “Everything?” You asked.

He nodded, hazed, eyes glossy and unseeing as he ground against your hip. “Everything, Mia.”

You cupped his ass, gripping it with both hands, sinking your nails just a fraction past gently, bathing in the feel of his raspy breath against your throat.

“Devil,” he hissed before grinding square against your core, heat against heat, your slickness easing the friction.

Your hand ventured to his front and gripped his erection, pointing it to your entrance.

His eyes looked glassy when he muttered, “Hold on.”

It took you a second to process and then you stopped right there, suddenly petrified. “Are you sure of this, Mia?” His voice was strained and dark and he had to blink four times to focus.

You frowned and smiled at him, as if to say 'silly boy'. “Of course!?”

“I find enthusiastic, explicit spoken consent extremely sexy.” He kissed your neck, tipping his hips back before stroking himself inside your fist. “I find it delicious when someone eagerly consents to their own undoing.”

You let your fingers slither into the hair at his nape before you tugged at it, forcing him to move back and look you in the eye. “Then please, Namjoon. Undo me. You've made me wait so much that now I don't just want it. I need it.” Your eyes softened with a plea. “Please, ruin me.”

“You're perfect,” he whispered before he kissed you, using your mouth to muffle his groan as he slid inside you.

“Fuck, this is heaven,” he gasped.

“Wait till I…” and you completed your sentence with the flat of your tongue against his hypersensitive neck.

The way he bucked in made you set your legs wider apart and arch into him. “I’m gonna die in this cunt, Mia. Fuck, I’ve never dared to dream this, doll.” He stretched his neck to give you better access. “I’m going to go feral on you, Mia. You might need your safewords, doll. Please use them if you need them, okay? I would never mean to hurt you.” He thrusted in again and dammit, you squealed. He was so deep inside, and so thick. Everytime he pulled out, a burning feeling made you shut your eyes and fist the sheets. But when he moved back in…

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure. “It’s okay. I can take it. I’m a good girl,” you reassured him — or maybe yourself.

“Of course you are, Mia. You’re the filthiest, most perfect woman I’ve ever pleased. You’re a sex wonderland, doll.” He grunted and wrapped his arms around you. “Pull your knees to your chest, it’s gonna help you take it better.” He kissed your brow. “Don’t force yourself, okay?”

You nodded and shuddered when he licked his thumb and helped his hand down between your bodies.

“Like this?” He asked, his plump digit tracing circles over your sensitive nub.

“Like that,” you exhaled, your insides clenching in agreement.

“Like that,” he rumbled, feeling you tighten around him, and growing wetter at the same time. It was exactly what he needed.

“Can you put your legs on my shoulders, doll?”

God, he was so hot, so sweaty on top of you. He looked glorious in the dimly golden lights of the room. You followed his advice and found yourself spread for him, aroused, breathless and at his mercy.

Once you arched up, trying to conjunct your mouth with his, he obliged you, helping you cover the sound that left your throat once you finally tipped over the edge.

You were falling, no safety net except for Namjoon’s large body.

He felt like a boulder.

You curled up against him and trusted him to lead you through your high — which he did, impeccably.

“Mia, sweetheart,” he cooed once your eyes opened for him. His smile was obliterating. “There she is,” he said fondly and proudly at the same time. “Do you think you can give me a last one, doll? Just one, for me.” He kissed the side of your head. “Would you like to, sweetheart?”

And heavens, you would never deny him, not when he was melting inside you and you could have it all, really have it all. “I want to feel you cum inside me. I want it dripping down my cunt. I want to feel it, hot, all over my sex. Is it as hot as it looks? Is it as wild as it seems?”

Namjoon tipped his head back, clenching his jaw before he aggressively plunged forward. “Keep talking, Mia.”

You licked your lips. “How does it feel for you? Is it wet enough? Tight enough?”

“It’s tighter now,” he said through gritted teeth. “And it’s soaking wet, love. It’s like swimming, so smooth. Perfect.”

“Are you going to ruin me for everyone else? Will you mark me up?” You were batting your eyelashes, eyes chasing the droplets of sweat glistening across his chest. His wide, strong, bulky chest.

“I’m gonna fucking own you, Mia,” he snarled. “You wanna be covered in my cum, love?”

You nodded eagerly before tipping your head down and wrapping your lips around his neck, sucking viciously. You let your lips smack as you released his skin. “I want it all. Wreck me.”

“Wreck you?” He chuckled coarsely. “How, Mia?” He was breathless and so hot, both in temperature and in attitude.

“However you want. I want to get dirty just for you.” Your fingers gripped his hair, tipping his head just so you could mark the other side of his neck. “I don’t care about anyone else. I want to make every deranged dream of yours come true.” Your nails ground into his shoulder and he moaned in pleasure.

“You want to get dirty? Just for me?”

“I’ve been good my whole life.” You shook your head. “I’ve never done this with anyone. Not this wild. Not this needy.”

He grinned and sunk his knees in the mattress, sliding his hands below you and cupping your ass. “Spread them wide for me, love.”

You let your legs stretch to your sides and dropped them as low as they would go, Namjoon rising to his hands, arching his back and hitting all the right angles. “Touch yourself, Mia. Let me see those sinful fingers of yours.”

He grinned as you followed his command. “Dirty little animal. Is this wild enough for you, Mia?”

“Harder,” you snapped without mercy.

And he obeyed, looking at you as your gaze moved down, staring at where your bodies joined so crudely and yet so magically at the same time.

And with this sight of you when he spoke next, he didn't hold back. “You like getting wild for this dick, mh?” His sardonic expression made it even better. “You will only get dirty for it. I will get you through so much pleasure I will drill your body into getting wet on the mere sight of me, doll.” He lowered his face to yours. “I’ll teach you how to give me every ounce of pleasure you own. And you’ll get used to leaning on me after I’m done with you. You’ll love it so much you won’t do it by yourself anymore.” Every sentence was slow, full of intent, gasps and pants punctuating them. “You’ll prefer my touch over your own.” He pressed his forehead to yours, gently brushing his nose to yours. “And you won’t cum unless I’m there to hold you afterwards. What do you say, Mia?”

You shook your head, looking for the words. To be owned. Possessed, like that. “I—” you gasped. “I want it,” you managed to utter with great effort.

That’s when Namjoon let himself go.

It was feral, harsh, unforgiving hard thrusts into you and out of you, almost out, then deep inside until you couldn’t take it anymore and abandoned yourself to him. You sank into your orgasm, caught in the tide, eyes closed and Namjoon’s mouth desperately searching for yours until he could roar your name in peace, the sound muffled under some semblance of control thanks to your lips against his.

It took minutes for either of you to speak.

“I came inside…” he whispered, almost in disbelief. “You wanted me outs—”

“It’s perfect, stay where you are.” You wound your arms tight around him. “Don't go anywhere. Stay here.” You wrapped your legs around his waist. “Right here.”

“Sorry I got possessive, I didn’t mean those things. I might have overdone it, we barely know each other.” He was already tormenting himself, he knew he had ruined it. Saying that stuff to a stranger… You had to think he was an obsessive maniac.

You simply kissed his head. “It was a bit strong, yes. But it was also very hot. You were very hot. Everything was.”

“Also the degrading part, the corruption kink, the—”

“All of it.” One more kiss to his hair. “Don’t trip, Namjoon.”

“I must have overstepped. I’m sure I—”

You tutted and held him, grabbing his face and making him look at you, not without him trying to resist you for a bunch of seconds. “Why are you overthinking this?” You asked.

“Because this is the part where everyone gets out of bed and wraps themselves in a towel and asks for space.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, those are my traumas, not you.”

You nodded, “True. But it’s also my duty to make sure your traumas are taken care of, just like you took care of mine.”

He stiffened in your arms.

“What is it, handsome?”

He looked insecure. “I just didn’t expect this. It feels nice.”

“I’m not taking this from you. You can relax here.” You smiled sweetly, reassuringly. “I’m staying here. This is your safe place, Namjoon.”

You didn’t expect Namjoon to drop so quickly and drastically afterwards, but apparently he was sensitive like that. And it made you even more eager to keep him close. The pleasure, the open minded experimenting, the touching, the kissing, the fucking, it was all topped by a vulnerable man wrecking you first, and then melting like balm on your soul, pulling the two of you together by sharing delicate, soft moments of bare intimacy.

He was offering you his most vulnerable side and you just held it and toughened yourself to a shield for him.

“You should clean up,” he tried to argue.

“In a minute, once you’re feeling better.” You rubbed circles into his back.

“I’m the one supposed to give you aftercare.” His tone was dull, disappointed.

You rolled your eyes. “We’re giving each other aftercare,” you argued back.

He pulled out, not without you protesting. “Then allow me,” he spoke tentatively against your ear.

Within a minute he was back with a wet towel. “Let me clean you up,” he murmured gently.

You parted your legs slightly, a bit shy now, but he kissed the inside of your knee and that made you confident enough to spread further, Namjoon getting enough space to clean you up properly. He abandoned the rag on the floor and grabbed the blankets from a pile on a drawer. “Would you like some cuddles?”

You assumed he needed them more than you did, but you didn’t care. You just smiled and gestured for him to scorch over. And he smiled. And he climbed in, close to you, pulling your head onto his chest.

“Do you like this?” You asked.

He grinned as he looked at you. “I really, really do. Thank you.”

“You pleased me, I please you, Namjoon. It’s easy like that,” you said, flicking his nose.

And there, again. Dimples.

“Now relax, Joon. I’ve got you.”