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badasgirlfriend · 1 year ago

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Stolen Hoodie | Bada Lee Social Media Au

pairings: bada lee x shin nari

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a/n: i just wanted to say thankkkk u sm for giving stolen hoodie a chance the support ive been getting is so crazyyyyy i love all of u

"C'mon, girl." Aeri told her best friend as they drove in her car to Xiaoting's party. "Don't overthink, just have a good time," she urged, flashing a cheerful smile.

"Yeah i'll try" Nari said smiling "I just hope i dont see her"

Aeri hesitated to say something, she didnt want to lie after all the whole dance class will be there probably

"if you do.." Aeri paused "just ignore her"

"Thank you, Aeri," Nari said, staring at her best friend with determination. "For everything - for always being by my side and having my back, no matter what. I really hope I can return it all to you someday."

"Oh quit it," Aeri replied, pretending to be annoyed but unable to hide her warm smile at Nari's words. "You've always been by my side just as much as I've been by yours - and you're the first one to show up when I need someone too. Don't doubt yourself - we've got each other's backs, that's what being best friends is all about." As Aeri spoke, she gave Nari a light punch on the shoulder in response to her earlier action, causing both of them to giggle in amusement.

As Aeri pulled her car into the driveway, she turned off the engine and removed the keys from the ignition.

"Wow," Nari breathed, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of her Xiaoting's house. It was enormous - far more spacious than she had imagined. "This place is huge!"

The cold air hit the girls as they exited the vehicle, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden change in temperature. Nari glanced down at her outfit, adjusting the straps of her bralette as she did so. She had paired it with a white crop top and a skirt-shorts hybrid that she had made a few days ago, creating a unique ensemble that suited her well.

"Okay sexy, let's get inside," Aeri said with a smirk, smacking Nari's ass hard enough to make her wince.

"Ow, that hurt, you bitch!" Nari groaned, turning to face her friend

"Lets go," Aeri grabbed her hand and guided them into the house. As soon as they entered, Nari's eyes widened in surprise. The place was already packed with people - far more than she had expected at such an early stage in the party.

Some were dancing some were drinking, and some girls were already on the floor passed out drunk

"Nari!" Aeri exclaimed as the song "Shake That Ass" by Eminem and Nate Dogg began playing.

"Hell yeah," Nari replied, pulling the shorter girl onto the dance floor.

Sure! Here's a more descriptive version of their dance:

The pair begun moving their hips back and forth seductively, grinding against each other as they danced. Every movement was fluid and in sync with the beat of the song, as they both let their bodies move with the music in a way that left little to the imagination.

Nari and Aeri were lost in the moment, the rhythm of the music coursing through their bodies as they swayed seductively. Nari wrapped her arm around Aeri, moving down until she was grinding her hips sensually against her best friend. The music was intoxicating, the vibrations of the beat adding to the thrilling sensation of their bodies moving together. Their eyes were locked on each other, both of them smiling and having fun

"Shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me, come on girl!" the best friends shouted the lyrics in unison, their voices rising above the music as they continued dancing with one another.

Bada wasn't having fun at all. She regretted having listened to Tatters' suggestion to come. However, she looked around in hopes of finding her best friend - and her eyes fell on a familiar boy talking to her.

Yeonjun.

As he felt somebody's eyes on him, Yeonjun turned towards Bada and glared at her

Bada simply rolled her eyes, her gaze wandering over to the two girls who had just entered the house. However, as soon as she recognized who they were, she was taken aback - almost choking on her drink as she realized who it was.

"Fuck" Bada cursed under her breath, her eyes trailing the brunette girl. She had never seen Nari in person before, but seeing her here in the flesh, she was truly stunned - the pictures didn't even come close to doing her justice.

Nari didn't see her, and Bada was thankful for it. She watched her and Aeri go over to the dance floor and begin moving, bodies swaying sensually in perfect harmony. The music filled the air with an infectious beat, and the heat of the moment brought out passionate and seductive vibes that made the party even more electric.

Bada's heart beat rapidly in her chest as she watched Nari dance, her movements flowing with grace and elegance that made her even more magnificent. Bada felt herself become distracted and had to swallow back her desire to keep watching, feeling a little guilty that she found her so alluring.

"You sneaky little thing." Bada nearly jumped out of her skin when Tatter spoke out of nowhere, startling her.

"You really need to stop doing that," Bada scoffed as she snatched Tatter's drink back from her.

"Hey, I was drinking that." Tatter pouts

"Too late." Bada shrugs nonchalantly. Tatter playfully glares at her for a moment before taking her drink back and taking a sip.

"Ehh" Tatter sighed, placing her hand on her hip "If you didn't act like an idiot, you would be the one dancing with her."

'Shut up," Bada said, chuckling as she pushed Tatter away lightly, amused by her friend's remark.

Hours passed, and Nari had no clue where Aeri was. After a while of searching, she found herself perched on top of a table, swaying and dancinh to the song "Tell Me" by Wonder Girls. She was completely inebriated, as she didn't remember how she got there. In her drunken state, she lost all her shame, along with her worries, as she began to dance on the table, lost in the music. She forgot about anything holding back, no sense of embarrassment left in her drunken state. The music filled every part of her soul, sending her into another world where she was the star of her own little personal show, where the only thing that mattered was her and the music, everything else forgotten.

"Come on, everyone!" Nari yelled, her voice ringing out over the loud crowd. As everyone erupted in cheers of encouragement, she felt her heart racing with excitement. With a wide smile on her face, Nari began to sing more like yell "Tell me, tell me, tell me too, want me want me want me too"

"Tell me, tell me, tell me you love me too, love me too," the crowd shouted back making Nari giggle

Bada's attention was drawn when she heard a familiar voice ring out, causing her to look up and spot nari high up on the table, singing and dancing. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, realising that Nari was likely the voice she had heard a few weeks ago.

Bada's laughter vanished when she saw nari begin to lift up her top, a look of concern quickly appearing on her face. "Nari, get down," Bada yelled, a sense of urgency to her voice.

Nari giggled as she looked around, unable to concentrate on anything else. "What? Where are you?"

Bada felt the urge to roll her eyes, the alcohol clearly taking its toll on Nari's senses. "Come on, get down." She grabbed Nari by the hand, a sense of concern and worry mixed with irritation growing inside her.

Nari finally focused her gaze on Bada, their eyes meeting, and Bada suddenly felt like time had slowed down. Her short hair sticking out in all directions in an endearing manner, framed her sharp but delicate face. Her features were still accentuated by the shadows, highlighting her high cheekbones on her smooth complexion. Her expression was soft and playful, a slight grin playing on her lips while she laughed silently

"When Nari recognized who had grabbed her hand, she immediately stopped laughing, her expression turning into a glare. 'What are you doing here?' she snapped her tone colder than before

"Get down"

"No!"

"Stop lifting your top and get down, Nari - you're embarassing yourself," Bada said firmly, trying to make her friend comply with her request.

"I'll lift this up," Nari said, giving her a sarcastic smile and lifting her middle finger up.

Bada let out a low groan and closed her eyes. She grabbed her hand again and with a sudden jerk, she pulled Nari up onto her shoulder, leaving her feet dangling in the air. Nari screamed as she found herself facing away from Bada,

"Put me down!" Nari screamed out, her grip on Bada's arm getting even tighter, her hands holding on stubbornly. She refused to budge, hanging on for dear life, while Bada sighed and finally reached a room, and as she entered, Nari's screams changed to a mumble, her voice going soft and her grip loosening. She was so drunk she couldn't even scream anymore, her body limp in Bada's arms.

Bada sighed and bent down, and managed to lower Nari safely onto the ground. Nari was ready to yell at Bada again, but she stopped herself when she saw how close they were. Even in her drunken state, Nari was slightly anxious as she stood in front of Bada, her proximity making her feel nervous. She was dressed casually with a jersey and beige cargo pants.

She didn't know if she was panicking because of Bada standing in front of her or because of the intense urge to vomit that was building up inside her. Her stomach churned and bubbled, as her body was about to rid itself from all that alcohol she drank "I'll be back"

Bada's eyes widened as Nari bolted past her into the bathroom, almost tripping over her feet, Bada followed Nari into the bathroom, seeing her kneeling on the toilet, her head resting on the bowl while she vomited.

Bada immediately dashed towards her side, holding her hair up so that it wouldn't get caught by the vomit that was spewing out of her mouth.

Nari managed to raise her head for a moment. "Sorry, Bada..." she mumbled, her voice quiet and her words slurred.

Bada shook her head gently, reassuring Nari that it was alright "Continue if it makes you feel better" she added

With a small nod, Nari continues to vomit into the toilet, and Bada just held her hair

After Nari was done vomiting, Bada helped her up and dragged her over to the sink so she could clean the excess out of her mouth. Nari's eyes were still glazed over with booze and her face was flushed, but she still managed to feel embarrassed at being this drunk and having to be taken care of by Bada.

Somehow, Nari managed to walk alone towards the bed. She threw herself down onto the soft mattress, groaning out loud about how comfortable it felt. The alcohol was starting to make its effects known in her body again, and Nari felt the need to lie down and close her eyes. She yawned and let out a deep sigh, her eyes closing slowly, Bada, watching her all this time, smiles softly.

"I won't remember this so..." Nari slurred her words, her voice heavily affected "I didn't want to be late, I was truly excited... and that creepy guy just happened to be there,"

"We don't..." Bada sighed deeply, "we don't need to talk about that"

"Maybe you dont want to but i do" Nari said "I hate being called a liar while im telling the truth. What you said to me was really harsh it made me so upset"

"Maybe you were right..." Nari says, her tone slightly defeated as she rolls over to her other side. "Yeah maybe Im a burden to my friends but I can't. But they don't even know half the things I- nevermind" Nari continues, sounding more resigned than upset or angry.

Bada watches her roll over, and catches a glimpse of bruises on Nari's waist. She furrows her brows, her gaze growing sharp as she pulls up the fabric of Nari's shirt to reveal more bruises, a little more alarmed now than before.

"Oh, that..." Nari laughs nervously, trying to make light of the situation. "I fell while I was playing tag with my sister," she chuckles. "I couldn't sit right for two whole days." Nari smoothly lies, her eyes darting around the room to ensure that Bada doesn't see through this lie.

This causes Bada to raise her eyebrow in suspicion "Nari-"

Bada started to say, but she was cut off when Aeri opened the door and let out a relieved sigh after seeing Nari in bed. She had been worried about her best friend's well-being and it felt good to see her in a more relaxed state.

"Oh, she was with you." Aeri said, turning to look at Bada "Thank you for taking care of her"

"It's nothing," Bada replied, waving off her thanks

"Come on bae, we'll go home now." Aeri walks over to the bed and grabs Nari by the shoulder.

"No, I don't want to go there-" Nari begins to argue, but Aeri quickly interrupts her.

"My house okay, you're staying at mine tonight." Aeri clarifies, trying to reassure her friend.

"With that, Nari stands up, her arm around Aeri's shoulder, and the two walk away, leaving Bada alone.

Bada's hope of some sort of reaction from Nari was quickly shut down, however, as Nari simply turns and looks at Bada, staying silent and not saying anything. She didn't utter a word, not even a little "fuck you." as Bada wanted.

"What am I getting myself into?" Bada sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

#bada lee #bada lee imagine #bada lee edit #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x oc #bada lee x reader #swf #gxg #wlw #bada lee x yn #bada lee imagines #bada lee fanfiction #bada lee x y/n #lee bada #bada lee au #stolen hoodie smau #sapphics

231 notes · View notes

shameless-army · 11 months ago

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How come this has such less notes ??? This is fantastic, amazing!!!!!! The way this ebbs and flows so perfectly I was in awe the whole time!!!! I loved this story so much, all the fantastical notes hit just right and the descriptions were crazy. Their relationship is so cute I will criiii. i loveeeee oc and i loveeee how much namjoon loves her. All the bloodbath generally gives me the ick but the way he is ready to fight for her!????? Crazyyyyy!!!!! The banter is so witty and fun. Loved the last scene too, the intimacy🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 I am in love!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dragonfire

Lord Namjoon commands the dragon riders of Mount Halji, he's authoritative and respected, a fearless warrior, celebrated for his prowess on the battlefield. So why aren't you afraid of him, damnit?

Pairing: Namjoon x F! reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, smut, a spin-off from the Royal Pain AU

Rating: 18+

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: Sex, Namjoon mounting everything in sight

Namjoon’s watching from across the room as she greets guests at the banquet. She’s striking, not only because she’s beautiful, with her dark hair and lovely eyes, but also because of her bearing. There’s pride in the way she holds up her head.

When it’s his turn to greet her, he bows, low, and kisses the hand she offers to him.

‘Good evening, your highness,’ he says.

He can feel her eyes on him, his black armour, the mark on his hand signifying his status as a dragon rider.

‘Lord Namjoon,’ she murmurs. The way her tongue flicks over her full bottom lip, the spark in her eyes, makes his blood warm.

Then she’s letting go of his hand, stepping away gracefully to greet the next person, and Namjoon’s left with the faintest scent of lavender, tantalising and sweet.

When she reaches the end of the line, she looks straight at him, like she’d known he’d be watching.

She inclines her head just slightly, but it’s enough.

Blood hot, lust thrumming through his veins, Namjoon follows her out of the banquet hall.

***

Namjoon’s tired from his night with the beautiful and lusty princess of Ijil, and it takes him longer than it should to realise that his armour is missing.

Even worse, his sword is gone.

He storms out of his chambers, looking for Jimin and Taehyung. He’s heading for the stables when he sees you.

His first impression is of softness, which is ironic given you’re staggering under the weight of his armour. His sword swings from your hip, he doesn’t even know how you managed to attach it you.

‘Stop,’ he commands.

You glance around, looking for where his voice came from.

Namjoon doesn’t know how you could possibly miss him. He’s always been tall, and of recent years, his build has filled out, a byproduct of wrangling Styx, his bonded dragon.

He still feels a thrill of pride when he thinks about her. Styx, with her midnight black scales, her wingspan wider than any others in her clan. She’s a magnificent beast, fiercely loyal, with the instincts of the finest warrior in battle.

He snaps out of his reverie when he realises you’re limping away, dragging his armour with you.

‘Stop!’ he commands again.

He catches up to you easily. ‘Where are you taking my armour and my sword?’ he demands.

‘Didn’t Jimin tell you? I’m your new squire,’ you tell him, like it’s a done deal.

Namjoon’s flabbergasted.

‘I’m a dragon rider, not one of those fanciful royal knights,’ he scowls. ‘I have no need for a squire.’

‘The dullness of your armour tells a different story,’ you have the audacity to say.

‘It’s black!’ protests Namjoon, not sure why he’s arguing with you but unable to stop himself.

‘You’re a disgrace to Styx,’ you mutter.

Namjoon realises he’s walked with you all the way to the stables.

Cursing, he lifts his armour off you, and you sigh, relieved.

‘It’s very heavy,’ you remark. ‘No wonder you’re so muscular.’

Namjoon stares at his sword, hung carelessly around your shoulder.

‘How are you supposed to be my squire if you can’t lift my armour and sword?’ he mutters, more to himself.

You’re already gesturing to a small area you have set up with a scrubbing brush and a bucket, a polishing cloth and a tin of oil.

‘Leave it with me,’ you say airily.

You frown at his sword. ‘Sweet mother of Jaesu, how old is this blood? It’s caked on.’

Namjoon scowls. ‘I’ll be back in an hour to collect it for a sparring session.’

You wave an arm at him, muttering something that sounds awfully like ‘Lord Jimin’s armour is pristine.’

Namjoon decides to pretend he hasn’t heard you.

***

When Namjoon returns, Taehyung’s leaning against the wall, chatting to you.

‘Did you know about our new squire?’ Namjoon asks.

‘I’m right here,’ you announce, bright, chirpy.

Namjoon ignores you.

‘She’s very good at mending clothes as well,’ Taehyung replies, smiling at you.

Namjoon’s forced to turn to you when you push his armour into his arms.

‘I only do mending for selected people,’ you say, haughty, like he’d shown any inclination to ask.

He’s about to snap a retort when the Princess of Ijil arrives.

Namjoon bows deeply.

You drop into a surprisingly graceful curtsy.

She eyes you.

Namjoon’s already stepping in front of you when you say, ‘I’m the squire to the dragon riders of Mount Halji, your highness.’

‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ she says, dismissive.

She turns back to Namjoon.

‘Do you have time for a quick catch up in my chambers before you set off back home?’

‘Of course,’ Namjoon replies, admiring the way her skin glows in the late morning sun.

She flicks her gaze over his shoulders, gaze meaningful.

‘I can help you mend that rip in the seam of your tunic,’ you say, helpfully, calling everyone’s attention to it.

Namjoon narrows his eyes at you, then turns back to the princess.

She’s already walking away.

***

‘Oof,’ you remark, holding up Namjoon’s tunic. ‘What’s this stain?’

Namjoon’s gaze flies to you.

‘Just kidding,’ you say, chuckling gleefully.

‘Are you ever quiet?’ Namjoon asks, exasperated. ‘Being a squire is a serious task.’

‘She’s a very good squire,’ Jimin says, emerging from the stables with their horses in tow.

‘Thanks, my lord,’ you say cheerfully.

‘You don’t call me my lord,’ Namjoon observes, tetchy.

‘I’ll call you it, if you can tell me my name,’ you say, smiling at him.

Namjoon realises he doesn’t know your name.

‘You didn’t tell me your name,’ he complains.

‘You didn’t ask,’ you shoot back, merrily.

‘Is everything a joke to you?’ snaps Namjoon.

‘Ignore our grumpy commander,’ Jimin says, giving Namjoon a quelling look. ‘He gets cranky when he’s tired.’

Jimin hands you the reins to your horse. ‘Need anything before we set off?’ he asks, offering you his knee to help you mount.

You shake your head, seating yourself. ‘Thank you,’ you tell him.

Namjoon mounts his steed and sets off, nudging his stallion into a brisk canter.

He doesn’t look back to check on you.

***

The first hint of trouble is a rustling in the trees overhead.

Then, firebolts rain down.

Namjoon’s about to urge his steed into a gallop when your horse, spooked and less battle-worn than all the others, rears up.

You land in an ungraceful heap on the forest floor and immediately get up, dazed.

A firebolt grazes your foot, and you lift an arm up over your head in an attempt to protect yourself.

Taehyung and Jimin are up ahead, turning back to help, but Namjoon’s the closest to you.

‘Get your horses away!’ shouts Namjoon. ‘It’s fire demons!’

He turns his steed, Thunder, and speeds towards you.

You watch him approach with wide eyes.

Namjoon reaches down and plucks you off the ground.

You land, hard, on the front of his saddle, face planted in the breastplate of his armour.

‘Hold on,’ grunts Namjoon. He leads Thunder towards a clearing he noticed earlier, to another route that will take you both to the edge of the forest, away from the fire demons.

For once, you appear to have no snappy remark at the ready.

You wind your arms around his waist, holding on tight, and Namjoon’s stomach flips unexpectedly when you press your face into his chest.

He leans forward on Thunder, urging him on, you soft and pliant between his thighs, and gets you both the hell out of there.

***

It’s late afternoon, the sun filtering through the trees, and you’ve yet to catch up to Taehyung and Jimin.

Namjoon stops by a brook to allow Thunder to drink and dismounts.

He lifts his arms to help you down.

You place your hands on his shoulders trustingly, and Namjoon’s stomach does another curious flip.

He wonders if he drank too much arabica before leaving Ijil.

You stay for a moment like that, pressed against him, arms up, face tilted to his.

‘Thanks for saving me,’ you say.

‘You’re one of mine,’ Namjoon says. He doesn’t think he’s saying anything but the truth, but you look pleased about it just the same.

He looks around. ‘It’ll be dark soon. We should set up camp around here.’

***

Namjoon lets out a sigh.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, barely concealed impatience in his voice.

‘It’s cold,’ you complain, even though he can barely see you under the mound of blankets you’ve stolen, including his own.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘Live with it,’ he says, unsympathetic.

‘They say body heat is good,’ you suggest.

Namjoon scoffs. ‘Is that an attempt to get into bed with me?’

You’re quiet, he almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep when you say, ‘we’re not technically in beds.’

Namjoon thinks it’s dark enough that he doesn’t have to hide his smile.

‘Come here then,’ he says, gruffly.

‘No thanks,’ you say rudely.

Namjoon reaches over and yanks you into his arms, blankets and all.

‘Just shut up and sleep,’ he advises, when you open your mouth.

Your mouth closes and you nod.

You’re asleep in seconds.

***

When he wakes, too hot, you’re already up. For some reason you’ve wrapped him in blankets, even though he runs hot all the time, a byproduct of his bond with Styx.

Namjoon fights his way out of the blankets and rises, stretching and yawning, rolling the stiffness out of his muscles.

Footsteps make him straighten up and turn around.

You’re bright and freshfaced, holding out a mug to him.

‘Made you arabica,’ you chirrup.

‘Thanks,’ he grunts, accepting.

Your eyes fall to his bare forearm.

‘You’re burned!’ you say, sounding genuinely worried.

‘It’s nothing,’ Namjoon says, amused by your concern over the tiny burn. You should see the scar on his side from the last dragon battle.

You’re rustling through the leather bag you carry near your hip.

‘Let me put some salve on it,’ you say.

Namjoon sits and drinks his arabica whilst you fuss over his arm.

‘You’re aware I’m a dragon rider,’ he can’t resist teasing you, but he lets you rub salve into his arm anyway.

He can’t deny it feels soothing.

He realises you’re looking at the dragon rider mark on his hand.

‘Pretty,’ you say. Your thumb rubs over it, a quick smooth swipe, and then your hands leave his skin.

Namjoon doesn’t think anyone’s ever called him pretty before.

Big, yes. Tall, certainly. Ruthless.

Not pretty.

To hide his discomfiture, he stands. ‘We should get going,’ he says, brisk.

You’re already heading to Thunder.

You stop in front of his enormous steed and look to him for a leg up, as though you’re expecting him to kneel before you like Jimin did.

Namjoon mounts Thunder, then holds out his arms for you.

You reach up, trusting like you were yesterday, and Namjoon’s stomach flips again.

It’s definitely the arabica, he tells himself as Thunder falls into an easy canter.

***

Namjoon says, grumpily, ‘stop wriggling.’

‘It’s just, the hilt of your sword keeps poking me,’ you complain, wriggling more, another smooth movement that makes him grit his teeth.

You look back at him just in time to catch him clenching his jaw.

‘It’s not my sword,’ Namjoon growls.

Your hand on his thigh makes his muscles jump.

‘Something in your breeches —-‘ you trail off abruptly.

‘It’s just the friction,’ Namjoon says, as your whole body stiffens between his legs, against his chest.

You don’t say a word.

‘You’re my squire. I don’t think of you lustfully,’ Namjoon continues.

You’re still silent, ramrod straight against him.

‘I prefer women who are —-‘

‘Beautiful and curvaceous,’ you fill in for him, describing the princess of Ijil.

‘Less annoying,’ finishes Namjoon.

You suggest, ‘I can ride behind you, if my ass is too tempting.’

Namjoon snorts a laugh. ‘And press those pretty breasts into my back?’

You look down at your chest thoughtfully.

Then you quip, barely stifling your laughter, ‘want me to polish your sword, my lord?’

‘Silence, wench,’ growls Namjoon.

Your laughter is equal parts infuriating and infectious.

***

You both catch up to Taehyung and Jimin at the gates guarding the dragon rider enclave on Mount Halji.

Namjoon takes a moment to savour the familiarity of it. He was born to be a dragon rider, the latest progeny of a long line of Eosulian warriors.

He was fourteen when he bonded with Styx, a lanky, graceless teenager with no idea what the hell he was doing. There was more than one surprised reaction at the unlikely combination of the studious teenaged Namjoon and the most fearsome dragon in the clan.

It’s been a while since anyone’s looked at him and Styx with any incredulity.

These days, Namjoon leans into his powerful build, his broad shoulders and chest, the lean muscles of his thighs.

Underneath he’s never stopped studying, learning, trying to better himself.

You nudge his chest with your shoulder, and he realises you’re talking.

He’s quite pleased with how he’s managed to tune you out.

You’re much more easy to tolerate when you’re on mute.

Namjoon allows himself a moment to admire your piquant little face.

He’s almost smiling when your voice manages to break through.

‘Plain?’ you ask.

Namjoon frowns, and obligingly, you repeat yourself. ‘Heading to the plain?’

He nods. He’d automatically guided Thunder in the direction of the plain, where he knows Styx will be waiting for him.

Namjoon stops and dismounts, instinctively reaching up to help you down.

It’s funny how he’s got used to doing that so quickly.

He faces North, and within moments, there’s a change in the air.

Styx lands noiselessly before him, sleek and so beautiful his skin thrums at her proximity.

Namjoon bows, and her massive head dips low to the ground in response. In two steps he’s mounted her, feeling at home in the way he never did in the vast Royal Palace of Ijil.

Something makes him look towards you.

You’re watching him and Styx, unmoving, hands clasped.

Namjoon doesn’t realise what he’s going to say until the words leave his mouth. He’s never invited anyone else to ride with him on one of these journeys before.

‘We’re reacquainting for the bond,’ he tells you. ‘You can come, if you want.’

He can sense Styx’s assent, but she lowers her head again, as if to show you, too.

You approach tentatively.

Namjoon holds out his arms to pick you up, and you say, ‘wait. Would you prefer tits or ass?’

Namjoon, to his surprise, can sense Styx’s mirth.

‘Just get on, and be quiet,’ he grumbles. He lifts you in front of him, locks his thighs around yours and pulls you tight against his chest, and then you’re off, gliding through the mountains of South Eosul.

***

Namjoon looks up as you enter the courtyard where he and the other dragon riders are combat training.

You march past everyone and head straight for him.

‘I need your muscles,’ you announce, without context.

Namjoon mops sweat off his brow and waits.

‘I’ll help you,’ Taehyung volunteers.

Namjoon stops him with a look.

‘What do you need help with, squire? And why is it so important that you’re interrupting our training?’

You frown. ‘The merchant down by the market is a swindler and a scoundrel,’ you tell him.

‘A swindler, and a scoundrel,’ Namjoon teases, amused by your vehemence.

You stare at him. He can almost see the smoke coming out of your ears, the way you’re vibrating with rage.

‘Fine!’ you burst out. You stomp away. ‘I will take care of him myself.’

You’re walking so fast you’re most of the way to the market before Namjoon catches up with you, even with his longer stride.

‘I’m sorry I teased you,’ he tells you.

‘I’m sorry I interrupted combat practice,’ you reply immediately.

You sigh. ‘I needed cloth for your jackets for the Harvest banquet next month. This merchant’s got the best supplies, but all the cloth he’s delivered is less than what we bargained for. Less than what I paid for.’

You’re getting worked up again, indignant. ‘How dare he try to swindle us?!’

Namjoon falls into step beside you. ‘It could be a genuine mistake,’ he says, trying to be reasonable.

You snort in disbelief.

Namjoon accompanies you to the stall, a little worried about how you’re going to approach this.

The merchant bows as you both approach.

‘Can I interest you in the new silk taffeta I’ve imported from Seldinia?’

‘No, but you can interest me in the remainder of the order I put in last week, of which only half has been delivered,’ you say, firmly.

The merchant eyes you narrowly. ‘Which order is that? I’m afraid I’ve completed all the orders from last week.’

You’re apoplectic. ‘Surely you have a ledger!’

You step around the table displaying his wares as he sighs and opens a worn ledger.

‘There!’ you say triumphantly, pointing to an entry that takes up half a page.

The merchant elbows you away from the ledger, making you step back.

Namjoon’s not sure how it happens, all he knows is one second he’s watching you and the next he’s got his forearm to the merchant’s neck, holding him up against the pillar.

The merchant’s looking at his dragon rider mark, spilling apologies.

Namjoon takes a moment, letting the rage recede.

You’re unharmed, you hadn’t even flinched when the merchant pushed you.

So why is he so goddamn incensed that that asshole had the audacity to touch you?

You can hold your own.

So why does Namjoon want to grind this man to a pulp?

He grunts, lets the man down, and he scuttles to do your bidding.

You wait until you’re both walking away, cloth tucked in a basket over your arm, before you turn to him.

‘What?’ snaps Namjoon.

You put your hand on his arm. ‘Thanks for ——‘

You pause, searching for the right phrase.

Namjoon lifts the basket off your arm.

‘Thanks for helping,’ you say carefully.

You seem to not know what to do with your arms now that he’s taken the basket, so you clasp your hands demurely in front of your chest.

‘No problem,’ Namjoon replies.

You keep sneaking glances at him as you walk, until Namjoon sighs.

‘What?’

‘You look quite dashing when you’re angry,’ you tell him.

‘Is that why you’re always vexing me?’

You nod. ‘That jaw clench you do.’

Namjoon glowers at you.

‘You’re doing it right now!’ you point out, delighted, skipping alongside him.

Namjoon says, ‘Quiet, or I’ll make you carry this,’ nodding to your basket.

‘Pfft,’ you scoff. ‘It’s nothing.’

You give him a sideways look. ‘Especially after I’ve got used to carrying your sword .’

You waggle your eyebrows meaningfully and nudge him between the ribs, like he wouldn’t get the innuendo otherwise.

Namjoon turns away so you can’t see him biting back his smile.

***

Namjoon answers the knock at his chamber door with a brisk, ‘come in.’

You take two steps into his chamber, eyes fixed on his chest.

‘My lord,’ you say, bowing. ‘You look very well indeed. That material suits you.’

Namjoon finds he’s distracted by your own appearance.

Has your body always been this lovely shape? And surely you’ve done something to your hair, too.

‘My eyes are here, my lord,’ you say, but you sound more amused than vexed.

‘You look beautiful,’ he tells you.

‘Thank you. Did you call me in here to seduce me with your sweet words and broad chest?’

Namjoon rolls his eyes.

‘I have something for you.’

You look suspiciously at the black bangle in his outstretched palm.

Namjoon says, ‘hold out your wrist.’

You hold out your hand, palm up, and Namjoon fastens the slim black band around your wrist, securing it with a tiny key.

You lift your arm, admiring the way the onyx gleams in the light as Namjoon threads the key along the silver chain he always wears around his neck.

When you speak, there’s a softness in your voice Namjoon’s only heard a handful of times.

‘What’s this for, my lord?’

‘The merchant at the marketplace,’ says Namjoon. ‘He changed his tune when he realised I was a dragon rider.’

He shrugs. ‘You don’t have a dragon rider mark, but I want people who deal with you to know that you have our protection.’

You’re standing so close to him he can feel the warmth of you, smell the fresh scent of your hair.

You look up at him, and he braces for whatever smart retort you’ve thought of.

Instead, you say, very sweetly, ‘thank you, my lord, that’s very thoughtful of you.’

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already speaking again.

‘Thank you for my shackle.’

Namjoon stares at you, speechless.

‘Shackle?’ he splutters, incredulous.

‘It goes round my wrist, it fastens with a key that you wear around your neck. It’s a shackle,’ you say, nodding.

Namjoon glares at you.

‘Aaaaa there’s that sexy jaw tick,’ you say, beaming at him.

Namjoon sets his jaw and ushers you out of his chamber.

‘Ooh, you look like you’re about to turn me over your lap and paddle my bottom,’ you say, chuckling merrily.

‘Maybe I will one day,’ Namjoon threatens.

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ you say, looking positively thrilled at the prospect.

Namjoon slams his door in your really rather pretty face.

****

Namjoon’s near the end of his speech to open the Harvest Banquet when the doors to the Great Hall open.

‘The Princess of Ijil,’ announces the herald.

Namjoon remains standing as she crosses the room, beautiful and resplendent in a gold gown that matches the brocade embroidery of his jacket.

She raises a hand, and Namjoon automatically leans down to kiss it.

She smiles at him, skin burnished gold in the candlelight, eyes full of promise, and Namjoon feels that familiar heat pool low in his groin.

She takes the seat next to his like she belongs there, and on any other day, Namjoon would be proud and honoured to have her by his side.

Today, though, his attention is divided by you, sitting in between Jimin and another dragon rider, Mingyu.

You’re chatting to them merrily, more than a little tipsy, judging by your bright eyes and the way you’re letting Mingyu lean against you.

Namjoon doesn’t realise he’s glowering at you until the Princess says, coyly, ‘I’ve come all this way, and you haven’t so much as complimented my gown, Lord Namjoon.’

He turns reluctantly from you. ‘How remiss of me,’ he says, politely. ‘You are very beautiful, as always, your highness, and we are privileged to have you in our midst.’

A burst of laughter and a round of applause erupts from your end of the table as Jimin leaps up, gracefully, to catch a tray of mead on the verge of tipping over.

Namjoon watches as Jimin deposits the tray safely on the banquet table and twirls you around triumphantly.

Jimin is his second in command, and has saved Namjoon’s ass more times than he can count. He’s a gifted fighter, instinctive and merciless when he has to be.

It’s also vaguely annoying that he has the face of an angel and a physique sculpted by the gods.

Namjoon tears his eyes away from you in Jimin’s arms.

He turns back to the princess.

***

Namjoon’s heading to his chamber after dinner, wondering where you are and why he cares.

If you’re with Jimin, you’re in safe hands.

Jimin likes you more than he does.

Namjoon stops in front of the looking-glass by his bed, staring at his reflection.

Does Jimin like you more than he does?

He slips his jacket off, starts unbuttoning the white silk shirt underneath.

There’s a knock on his door.

Namjoon cracks it open, an odd burst of warmth blooming in his chest when he realises it’s you.

You hiccup and reach out, curling your fingers into the open placket of his shirt.

The tips of your fingers are cold, and Namjoon realises just how much he wants to warm you up.

He’s reaching for your arm to pull you into his chamber when you both hear approaching footsteps, an entourage.

The Princess of Ijil.

Namjoon’s distracted for an instant, and when he looks back at you, you’re giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

His hand closes around nothing.

The Princess of Ijil reaches his chamber door.

And you?

You’re gone.

***

Namjoon has to admit, you’re quick.

By the time he’s made his excuses to the princess and tried to follow you, there’s not a trace of where you might have gone.

It’s only when he passes the stables and hears Thunder whickering and stamping his feet that he finds you, sitting on a groomsman’s stool in a corner of Thunder’s stall.

You give Thunder an accusing look that makes Namjoon bite back his smile.

Namjoon looks at you, at the petulant way your lower lip is pushed out, the bottle of potent mead in your hand, and says, gently, ‘want to go for a ride?’

Before you can come up with whatever terrible innuendo he knows you’re capable of, he’s saddled and mounted Thunder, and is holding out his arms for you.

You give him a curious look but it doesn’t stop you from letting him lift you up into the saddle in front of him.

You settle back into his arms, between his thighs, against his chest, like you belong there.

Namjoon leans forward, urging Thunder into a gallop.

The cool night air is like a balm on his brow, and for the first time Namjoon decides to let himself enjoy how you feel in his arms.

He thinks you’re trying to say something to him, but it’s lost in the wind as the fields of Mount Halji speed past.

He’ll ask you later.

***

Namjoon beds Thunder down in the small barn and heads to the tiny farmhouse.

He finds you standing by the door where he left you, waiting for him.

He lights a lamp, holds his arm out to you.

You say, ‘wait.’

You set the mead down on the wooden table and step up to him, hand on his chest, going on tiptoe.

Namjoon stays perfectly still as you press your lips to his.

It’s sweet, chaste, and yet it makes him want to push you against a wall and take you right here.

You pull away.

‘Just wanted to check if you’re a good kisser,’ you say, breathlessly.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at you, tilts his chin.

‘Am I?’ he asks, like he doesn’t care what you think.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

‘I’m good at a lot of things,’ he tells you.

‘Stop showing off,’ you chastise.

You squeal as he chases you into the bedroom.

***

Namjoon’s trying to take it slowly but you’re writhing under him, rubbing against him in all the places that he likes, and god, he’s so hard he can’t imagine there’s any blood going to the rest of his body.

He can’t think .

You’re kissing his neck, tongue flicking against his skin, and Namjoon groans at the pleasure of it.

‘I didn’t know you were so sensitive, here,’ you note, a purr to your voice that makes his eyes close.

You grind your hips against his, arms splayed around him.

Namjoon’s got no idea how you managed to get on top of him but Jaesu, he loves the view. He already knows he’ll never get tired of taking the weight of you.

Namjoon raises his head, trying to kiss you as you’re pulling away, and you press your hand to his lips.

‘Look at you, my big dragon rider,’ you taunt. You roll your hips against his cock, still covered in the dress pants he put on for the Banquet, pulling another grunt from him.

‘You like being under me?’ you ask.

‘I’d rather be in you,’ Namjoon tells you, honestly.

He runs a hand down his torso, cups his length. ‘Get these off and I’ll show you.’

Your eyes meet, and the heat in his gaze makes you visibly shiver.

Then you’re undoing his pants.

Namjoon lifts his hips to help you slide them down.

His cock brushes your parted lips, and quick as a cat, you open your mouth and take him in.

Namjoon’s fist clenches in the silk of your dress as you take him deeper, tongue flat against the underside of his cock.

‘You unman me,’ he utters.

You look up at him, mouth full, eyes wide, and he groans at the sight of you.

‘Do you like this?’ you ask, pulling back, lips swollen, stained with the stickiness of his seed.

Namjoon reaches down to cup your cheek. ‘I want you on top of me, love,’ he tells you.

He never knows if you’re going to do what he says, but to his relief, you wriggle up to sit on his chest.

He reaches out, undoes the ties fastening your gown carelessly, enjoying the way it falls open under his hands.

He tugs it up over your head, leaving you in a chemise so gossamer thin he can see the outlines of your pretty breasts, your hardened nipples imprinted against the fabric.

Past the length of your torso he can see between your legs, and, he realises he can feel the dampness of your arousal on his own stomach.

You’ve wetted through his shirt, and Namjoon doesn’t think he’s ever been more aroused.

Your mouth opens, and Namjoon shakes his head.

‘Look what you’ve done,’ he tsks, his voice husky, low.

You open your mouth again, and again, he shakes his head.

‘You and your smart mouth,’ he says. ‘You’re so wet you’ve ruined my shirt, and I’m so hard I hurt.’

He hisses as you roll your hips over him. ‘What are you going to do about it, my love?’

You’re moaning at him, and he laughs harshly. ‘You want my cock? Do it yourself.’

‘Or do you just like talking with that smart mouth,’ he taunts. ‘Can’t follow through?’

Your eyes flash at him, and then you’re bracing against his chest, taking him in hand, lining him up.

Your eyes flick to his, and Namjoon stares you down. ‘Shy?’ he asks, voice mocking.

‘No,’ you gasp, as you lower your hips onto his pelvis, taking him in increments.

Your hand tightens on his arm. ‘Too big,’ you murmur, breathless.

Namjoon has to take a breath when he’s in all the way. You’re wet, and warm, and he can already feel his pleasure starting to coil out from his shaft, sending tingles across his groin, making his balls tighten.

You’re moving on him, thighs flexing as you ride him. Namjoon has the loose thought that the definition in your thighs is probably from carrying his armour around for months, because he’s never seen you do any other form of exercise, then you’re leaning forward on his chest, murmuring in his ear, and his thoughts evacuate his head again.

Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come.

You cry his name, and Namjoon cups your ass, helping you move on top of him, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of you until you’re limp on top of him.

He waits, hard and throbbing inside you, until you look up at his face.

‘Did you think we were finished?’ he asks.

There’s a spark of something in your eyes at his challenge.

‘I did, actually,’ you say haughtily.

You make as if to move off of him, and as always, Namjoon’s amused and outraged by your audacity.

He grips your thigh, admiring the mark his fingers leave when he lets go.

You’re watching him carefully.

‘Should have known you’d like that,’ you remark.

‘You know,’ Namjoon says thoughtfully, pulling you underneath him, thrusting once, experimentally.

You wait for what he has to say.

‘I like you better when you’re not talking,’ he says.

Your squawk of outrage turns into a moan as he starts to move, his cock sliding in your slickened cunt.

‘Yeah,’ he says, as you moan. ‘This is better.’

He seals his lips against your own and fucks you until you’re crying out and coming on his cock.

***

Namjoon’s awakened by a pounding on the door.

He stumbles to the entrance of the tiny farmhouse and is greeted by Jimin, dressed in full battle gear, thrusting his armour at him.

‘Halians,’ Jimin says grimly. ‘They’re en route to the Hold.’ He pauses, meaningfully. ‘The Princess of Ijil is still within our Gates.’

Namjoon’s pulling on his armour, methodical. ‘The dragons?’ he asks.

‘They’re all in formation,’ Jimin says.

He looks up as you walk into the room, dressed in Namjoon’s shirt from last night.

‘Ah,’ says Jimin, unsurprised. ‘Tell me later if I need to defend your honour to your brother.’

You laugh. ‘Seokjin can’t talk,’ you say, and Jimin grins.

‘Don’t I know it,’ he agrees.

Namjoon doesn’t have time to unpick this conversation right now.

He tightens his sword and says to Jimin, ‘Let’s go.’

‘Wait,’ you say.

You step forward and pull him down into a kiss.

‘Stay safe,’ you say.

Namjoon casts a look at your pretty face, wishing he had the time to appreciate how good you look in his shirt.

You’re already stepping back.

‘Look after him, Jimin,’ you say.

Jimin nods. ‘I always do.’

The laugh you both share at his expense makes Namjoon scowl.

***

Jimin grew up with Namjoon, and he’s been analytical, an overthinker, for as long as he’s known him.

Namjoon was the friend who always used to get caught when they played dragons and wizards, the kid who was busy trying to strategise when what he needed to do was run.

He made up for it by becoming quicker, stronger than anyone else. So then he didn’t just win at games, he annihilated his opponents.

He’s fought alongside Namjoon in countless battles against the Halian army, and there’s no doubt that Namjoon’s brilliant strategising has saved their asses many a time.

It’s just that, Namjoon’s so damned serious all the time. He wears his responsibility as commander on his shoulders, bears the weight without complaint.

When he started sleeping with the Princess of Ijil, Jimin had realised he was in real danger of losing his friend to a life of power seeking and political manoeuvring.

That’s where you came in.

Jimin’s known you for years, he’s friends with Seokjin, your brother who’s currently making a name for himself in the vast plains of Daljeon.

He’s always liked your sense of humour. Like Seokjin, you cloak your inner steeliness in jovial banter. Also like Seokjin, you’ve been blessed with a face as pretty as Jimin’s own.

You’d been at a loose end when Seokjin left, and Jimin had quickly realised that your personality was the perfect foil for Namjoon’s seriousness.

He’d watched in amusement as you ran circles around Namjoon with your quick wit, and had relaxed after he’d seen the way Namjoon had consistently chosen to laugh with you rather than flatten you.

Today, though, Namjoon’s not laughing.

They’d returned from a skirmish with a Halian sub unit at the border of Eosul to find the farm cottage empty.

A search of the Hold has so far, not revealed your location.

Namjoon looks up as the doors of the Great Hall open and a messenger comes in carrying a package.

Namjoon tears it open and stops dead as pieces of onyx fall out.

He looks at Jimin, jaw set. ‘It’s hers. I gave it to her the night of the Banquet.’

Jimin’s already grasped the messenger. ‘Where is she?’ he demands.

‘It’s from General Dei of the Halian army,’ splutters the messenger. ‘That’s all I know.’

Namjoon moves so quickly the messenger’s against the flagstone wall before he finishes his sentence.

‘Tell me where she is and I’ll spare your life,’ he utters, voice low and deadly.

One move of Namjoon’s hand toward the hilt of his sword yields the information they need.

Then Namjoon’s running, heading for Styx on the plain.

***

Namjoon glances over at Jimin as they approach the caves where you’re being held.

‘I’m worried, Jimin,’ he confesses.

Jimin places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, drawn taut with worry.

‘She’s the only bargaining item they have, even the Halians wouldn’t be stupid enough to harm her knowing you’re on your way.’

Namjoon’s gaze is dark. ‘I’m more worried about what this is going to cost them,’ he tells Jimin. ‘I’m angry.’

His fists clench. ‘I’m really fucking angry right now.’

Jimin says, carefully, ‘This isn’t a reason to start a war.’

Namjoon laughs, short, humourless. ‘I don’t want a war,’ he agrees.

He sets his jaw as they reach the entrance. ‘I want a massacre.’

You’re against the back wall of the cave, flanked by Halian guards.

General Dei’s standing by. ‘Lord Namjoon,’ he says, inclining his head in greeting.

Namjoon, imposing in his battle armour, gives the General a look that has the guards behind him shifting nervously.

‘I know you wanted a negotiation, General,’ Namjoon says, ‘but I don’t negotiate when one of my own hangs in the balance.’

He draws his sword. ‘Release my squire.’

***

In the clamour of battle, Namjoon has a direct line of sight to you, and sees the moment you flatten yourself against the wall to avoid a wayward strike.

He’s by your side in moments, cutting you loose, pushing you behind him.

‘It took you a while,’ you point out. He can’t see your face but he can hear the smile in your voice.

‘I’m sorry I left you,’ he says, tucking you under his arm, cutting down two Halian guards in a swift movement.

He heads for the entrance of the cave, where Styx is waiting to dispense with any Halian guards who manage to get past Taehyung and Mingyu.

Jimin emerges a moment later, sheathing his sword, breathing hard from exertion.

He draws you into his arms, raises an eyebrow when Namjoon doesn’t let go of his hold on you.

‘I’m taking her back to the Hold,’ Namjoon says.

Jimin murmurs, ‘and the rest?’

Namjoon helps you onto Styx, jaw tightening as he takes in the rope marks around your wrists and ankles.

He can find no mercy in his heart for anyone who’s tried to hurt you.

Honestly, he can’t even trouble himself to look.

He turns to Jimin.

‘Let them burn.’

***

You awaken so quietly Namjoon’s got no idea how long you’ve been watching him sit by the window.

You clear your throat.

‘You’re beautiful,’ you say, the words heartfelt.

Namjoon looks at you, at your skin coloured in the hues of the rising sun, at the sincerity shining in your eyes, and thinks that you’re the beautiful one.

He comes to sit on the bed next to you.

You clamber into his lap, face close to his, legs either side of his waist.

‘Thank you for coming to get me,’ you say.

‘I’m sorry I let you get taken in the first place,’ he replies. ‘Did you get hurt, my love?’

He’s looking at the mark on your wrist, where your bangle was.

You catch the direction of his gaze.

‘It didn’t hurt apart from that I didn’t have anything to show I belonged to you,’ you tell him.

Namjoon lifts your wrist to his lips, kisses over the bruise marking your skin.

‘I can take care of that,’ he says.

He moves his mouth further up your arm, sucks your warm skin, laves the new mark he’s left with his tongue.

You’re breathing faster now, watching him intently.

Namjoon tugs the shirt he put on you apart, presses his lips to the warm curve of your left breast, and sucks.

You make a pretty sound, and he does it again, suctions his lips over your softness, admires the lurid colour of the mark he’s made.

You’re shifting your hips slightly, moving over his thigh.

Namjoon flexes his thigh between your legs, and you whimper.

He dips his head again, this time to your other breast, coaxing your nipple out from under his shirt. He licks over your nipple, and to his pleasure, you let out another pretty moan.

You’re still moving your hips over his thigh, more boldly now, grinding harder with each pass.

Namjoon keeps up a steady pace laving your nipples with his tongue. He takes your breast into his mouth, lifts a hand to tweak your other nipple, and you gasp.

He can feel your wetness on his thigh.

His free hand lands on your thigh.

‘Ride me,’ he utters.

‘Namjoon,’ you gasp.

Namjoon can tell by the raggedness of your breathing that you’re close to your release.

He flexes his thigh again, helps you drag your hips along, laps at your nipples, and with a cry of his name you come.

Namjoon pulls you onto the bed, slides his hand onto your bare hip under his shirt and admires the view.

Your breasts look so pretty covered in the marks his lips have made, nipples taut and slick with his saliva.

There’s wet between your thighs, your cunt glistens with your release, and Namjoon’s never seen anything prettier.

His cock, already hard and aching, swells even more as you pull him down to you.

‘I want you, Namjoon,’ you plead.

‘You have me,’ he replies.

He settles himself between your spread legs and pushes into you.

Your back arches as he slides in, slow, giving you time to adjust.

He can feel your hands on his back, one near his shoulder blade, one low on his hips, urging him on, and Namjoon doesn’t want to hold back anymore.

He sheathes the rest of his manhood within you with another push of his hips, groaning at the pleasure of it.

He can feel the walls of your cunt fluttering around his hardness, the rush of slickness from you coating him.

You’re so wet, so warm Namjoon finds himself without words.

He starts to move, and you cry his name so loudly he stops, worried he’s hurt you.

‘Don’t stop,’ you reassure him, teeth on his earlobe. ‘Jaesu, don’t stop.’

Namjoon drags his cock from you and enters you again and again, going deep with every thrust, hard the way you seem to like.

He rolls his thumb over the swollen bud between your legs, and you buck your hips against his, chasing your pleasure.

You’re tightening deliciously around him now, clamping down on him like a vice, and Namjoon’s close himself, leaking into you with every thrust.

He strokes between your legs, dips his head to lap at your nipple, and then you’re coming again, gasping his name.

Your pleasure drags him over his own edge, Namjoon manages another thrust before he’s coming, spilling his seed into you with an intensity that robs him of his breath.

You’re pulling him down onto you now, arms around him. Namjoon has just enough awareness to move slightly so you’re not taking his full weight as he collapses onto the bed, tangled up with you.

***

When he stirs, you’re up already, but thankfully not any more dressed than you were.

You’re looking at him in the looking glass by his bed.

‘I like these marks you made on me,’ you announce, nonchalant.

‘I’ll make more,’ Namjoon says.

He rises from the bed, drops to his knee before you.

‘On my legs?’ you ask, looking down at him quizzically.

‘If you want.’

Namjoon reaches for your hand, looks up at your face seriously.

‘I vow fealty to you, in this kingdom and beyond,’ he promises you. ‘I will protect you to my last breath.’

‘Well,’ you drawl, with the familiar quirk to your lips he’s grown to love, ‘we’d better make sure you live a very long life then.’

#kim namjoon #kim namjoon favourites #my favourite #guys pls read this its gorgeous

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