↳ Index [Part 02 - Paradise of Past]
Pairing: Elven Healer!Namjoon x Monsterhunter!Reader
Genre: Fantasy!AU, some Angst, the smallest hints of Romance, Smut
Warnings: themes of loss, wounds, growing tension, sub!Namjoon, Dom!Reader, very enthusiastic consent, he has the hugest kink for big strong women, this man is such a simp for her, sex in a hot spring, breast worship, oral sex (f.receiving), desperate fucking, these two are so touch starved omfg, penetrative sex, creampies, sloppy kisses, hair pulling (m.receiving), choking, face slapping, masochist!joon for the win, multiple orgsasm (f.receiving), creampies, strength & muscle kink, subby boy tears, wet Namjoon with long hair cause this needs a warning, these two are so mature and grown and they know exactly what they want, the ending is so <3
Wordcount: 12.5k | Minors DNI
a/n: fucking sub!joon in a cave under moonlight might actually be something i need to achieve in life nfngnnfgn besties this is so hot to me no joke fajsdfj i hope you are enjoying it as much as i do <3 looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this heheh
Namjoon circles the fire in search for signs of you. He finds a piece of paper on his pillow. Namjoon opens it with shaking hands.
I’m hunting. Don’t leave the cave.
He sighs in relief. So you did not leave him. He would have died without you, even if he hates to admit it after what you said. Namjoon settles on the soft sleeping mat, staring into the fire. Perhaps this is a good thing. Distance will do you and him well.
You never returned. Namjoon ate without you, he searched the entire cave two times without finding even one mushroom and he went to bed without you. Quite frankly, by the time it was time for bed his anger for you had ceased to exist and great worry had replaced it. What if the morgul finished you off? He worried until sleep dragged him into unconsciousness.
Heavy steps and grunts wake him the next morning. The fire has turned into ambers by now and sunlight enters the cave. He opens his eyes. You are back, dragging your heavy feet and holding your bleeding side.
Namjoon lifts his head in alarm, jumping to his feet a second later.
“Goddesses, ___! What happened to you?” he gasps, running to meet you in the middle.
You grab the arms he offers, leaning your weight on them.
“What the bloody fucks do you think happened? Morguls”, you get out through gritted teeth.
“Sit down over there. Sit. I, I need to clean the wound before it gets infected.”
You scoff in amusement, “I’ll sleep it off.”
“No, I need to clean it and patch it up.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“By fucking Vairë, ___! Just let me stitch you back together!” Namjoon explodes.
You stare at him with widened yet amused eyes.
“Morguls eat corpses. You cannot even imagine the bacteria they harvest under their claws, the diseases they carry in their saliva. Fucking sit down, shut up and let me bloody heal you!”
Your eyes soften, a chuckle leaves you.
“What?” Namjoon challenges.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I thought you didn’t have it in you.”
“Yes…well…I worry, it slipped out.”
You chuckle, lifting your hands in defeat.
“Don’t hold back on my account. Over there you said?”
Namjoon follows you to the spot by the glowing ambers, “yes, uh yes. And take off your armour.”
“Alright then.”
He begins preparation while you undress. He runs to the cave entrance to fill a pot with snow, then runs back to the ambers, using them to turn the snow into boiling water.
“The bastard got me right where the plate ended. Fuck.” You take off your undershirt, wincing in discomfort.
“Did it bite you or scratch you?”
“Scratch. I put it down a moment later.”
“Goddesses ___, what were you thinking?”
“I’m a monster hunter, am I not?”
“This does not mean that you can fight a morgul for no reason”, Namjoon challenges, sterilising the surgical tools in the freshly boiling water.
“Aren’t you paying me for this exact reason?” you ask. “To take care of the morguls?”
“Yes, but-” His eyes find your bared chest and instantly avert it.
You do not miss the coy flash of colour washing over his cheeks. How interesting, a healer that gets red at the sight of breasts.
“But what?” you stress.
“But, you had no reason to hunt one. Move your arm, I need to assess the wound.”
“I had my reasons.”
“It better be bloody good ones.”
Four scratch marks, around fifteen centimetres in length, stretch down your side. They are around half a centimetre thick and around seven centimetres apart.
“By Vairë”, he murmurs.
“First scratch wound?” You are teasing him of course.
“At least one of such size. Hold still, I need to sterilise it first.”
“By wasting my good alcohol.”
“Do you have any other alcohol at hand? No? Then let me do my job.”
You chuckle, “go ahead.”
He opens the bottle of alcohol with his teeth, spitting the cork to the side.
“This will hurt a lot.”
“I know. This isn’t my first wound.”
He pours the alcohol. You grunt loudly, kicking the ground.
“Forgive me.”
“Worry not. Fuck, this never gets easier”, you grumble, instinctively trying to reach for your burning side.
He slaps your hand away.
“Don’t put your grimy fingers on it. I just cleaned it.”
“Forgive me”, you chuckle, studying his hands. “So you are going to sew me back up.”
“I have to. Otherwise it will never close up. It will get infected and this can cause many issues. Deadly ones even. Here, chew on this.” He holds up a brown root.
“What’s that?”
“Laudum root, it numbs pain.”
“Laudum root? Interesting. I only know its flower to be of use. We use it as an ingredient in our healing potions.”
You accept the root and start chewing it. It tastes like soil and slightly nutty.
“The flower is great against inflammation. I have accidentally discovered the effectiveness of its root after I ran out of flowers and only had the roots left”, Namjoon says, sterilising his hands as he waits for the medicine to work.
“Did you hope the effect would be the same?” you ask.
“Yes, but I was met with a numbing of the battered nerves instead. I tested it out on myself and then a few other patients. Its effectiveness was marvellous. If extracted and mixed into a cream it can even be applied topically on the affected area.”
“Do you do that often? Test out unfamiliar herbs on yourself?”
“Of course. I need to in the name of science. Besides, if it kills me, then so be it. I would never risk another person’s life.”
“This is both honourable and incredibly stupid.”
“No, what’s stupid is running out into the night to pick a fight with a morgul.”
You laugh with the root between your teeth. He meets your eyes.
“I mean it.”
“Oh, I believe you.” You take out the chewed-up root, inspecting it. “Sounds like you made quite the discovery. Did you write it down?”
“I did, but it is lost now. Somewhere out there. Goddesses, why did I bring the book with me? I am such a fool.”
“This book means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
“It does. I know that it is just one of many, but every book is dear to me. So much of my research is lost. Forever.”
“Maybe we will find it again.”
“I doubt it, but thank you. I am starting, if you need more laudum root…”
“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry, I have a high pain tolerance.”
The needle pierces your skin for the first time and you do not flinch. As a matter of fact, you do not feel any discomfort.
“Was this also part of the hexer trials?” Namjoon asks in hopes of distracting you from the procedure. His hands are shaking. They never do. He tries to breathe through it.
“It was. Pain is a weakness. If you let it distract you, your enemy will take advantage of it. That is what they told us as comfort as they flogged us or beat us bloody.”
“This is cruel.”
“No, they were right. I didn’t get it back then, I thought them to be cruel. But they were right. Pain is weakness. It distracted me and…”
Namjoon lifts his eyes for a moment.
“Distracted you?”
“Hah”, you let out a breathy laugh, “fuck.”
“Forgive me, I shouldn’t pry.”
“No, it’s alright. It is just difficult to talk about.”
Namjoon averts his eyes to the wound, stitching it up most carefully. You don’t flinch, not even once. Perhaps it is the laudum root or perhaps your upbringing.
“I know folk say that hexer cannot love, that the mutations remove our emotions, but those rumours are wrong. I loved someone and lost them.”
“I am so sorry to hear this. What happened?”
“Monsters happened. I was young and reckless and thought that I could win every fight. They attacked us in the forest behind our house, one of them bit me. The pain of it distracted me, I stopped paying attention and they…killed them.”
“By Vairë, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. Don’t feel sorry for foolish me. It was my fault that they died.”
“No, it wasn’t. You are just a person, anyone would have been distracted by being bitten by a monster.”
“I am not just a person. I am a hexer, I should have been stronger.”
“Perhaps or perhaps there was nothing that you could have done differently to save them.”
“Perhaps”, you study his face, “I thank you for not pitying me. I dislike it when people begin to feel sorry for me because of what happened.”
“I understand how you feel.”
“You do?”
“I do. I lost my wife to the black cough. I wasn’t a healer yet when she got sick and every healer we went to told us to pray and say our goodbyes. They weren’t wrong, but these days I cannot help but feel angry. If they did more for her, she could still be alive.”
“I am sorry for your loss. Was it recent?”
“No, it was eighty years ago. My anger still feels fresh however. Does it make me a terrible widower? I do not grieve my wife these days, but I am still so angry at the healers.”
“I do not think it does. I lost my husband seventy years ago, but my grief for him has long passed. The anger for my own incompetence however remains.”
Your eyes meet.
“It is a cruel thing to know that their deaths were so unjust, that they could have been prevented.”
“It is”, you agree.
Namjoon finishes the stitches with a knot, cleaning them a second time with the alcohol.
“Do you miss your wife? I know you do not grieve for her anymore, but do you miss her?” you ask him.
“Of course I do. She is the woman whom I loved first and swore loyalty to. She was intelligent, witty and always knew how to make my heart race. Of course I miss her from time to time.”
“She sounds delightful.”
“She was. She really was. And you? Do you miss your husband?”
“From time to time. He was a kind man, loyal and devoted. He was loving and made me laugh. I miss him, of course I do.”
“He sounds lovely.”
“He was, he really was.”
You exchange a knowing smile.
“So, I closed the wound.”
“Is it already done?”
“It is.”
“And I didn’t feel a thing. As a matter of fact, I do not feel the wound at all. This is an interesting root.”
“Isn’t it? I want to see what happens if I extract the essences and mix it with alcohol. Perhaps it can serve as a medicine with a long shelf life.”
“You would need this for that, wouldn’t you? To note everything down”, you say and reach for your jacket. You pull out his book from the inside pocket.
“My book?” Namjoon gasps, reaching for it. “How? Why? Where? W-what I? How is it here?” He stutters, meeting your eyes.
“I told you that I had my reasons”, you say and stand up, strutting to your bag for a new shirt.
“Wait, let me wrap the wound first.”
“Go ahead then”, you allow him with a slight chuckle.
Namjoon begins working, but his mind is only thinking of one thing.
“I don’t understand. Why would you go back for it?”
“Because it matters to you and you are my client. I cannot leave a bad impression and risk you bad mouthing me to people.”
He scoffs, “I wouldn’t have done so.”
“Well, now I guaranteed it.”
You and he laugh softly, eyes finding the others afterwards. For just a small moment the cave seemed warmer and the fire brighter.
“I am sorry for what I said. I was taught not to be attached to earthly possessions and we were running from a morgul. I spoke out of anger when I said that people wouldn’t read it.”
Namjoon looks at his hands coyly, shaking his head.
“There is no need to apologise. I understand why you did what you did. We needed to run quick and I almost got us killed. This isn’t a leisurely wandering holiday but an expedition in dangerous lands. Going back for a mere book would have been foolish. As we now know”, he says and puts his hand on your bandaged wound in emphasis.
You scoff in amusement.
“I have you to patch me up, haven’t I?” you say and kneel down to look for a new shirt.
“I guess. For now.”
“Is this a threat?”
“No, this is…yes, perhaps I was trying to threaten you into being less reckless.”
You laugh, looking at him over your shoulder.
He is by the fire, washing his hands and cleaning the tools. He meets your gaze briefly.
“What?”
“You are very pleasant company.”
Namjoon flusters, “am I? You called me a yapping nuisance last night.”
“Last night’s me was an angry fool. I wouldn’t pay her any mind if I were you.”
“I, uhm, well thank you then. You aren’t very unpleasant yourself.”
“Mhm.”
“And I thank you for bringing back my book. You didn’t have to, but you did. So thank you.”
“Of course. It was my duty after what I said.”
Your eyes meet yet again and linger. Perhaps Namjoon is imagining things, but your gaze seems full of fondness. You clear your throat loudly and look away.
“Have you found them?” you ask, gesturing at the cave.
He knows that you speak of the mushrooms.
“No, I haven’t. This cave is empty. Somebody must have plucked them already.”
“So we will go to the next one.”
“But this adds another two days of travel and we do not have our elks anymore.”
“Without the mushrooms, your people are already dead. I won’t allow that, so let’s go. We should start packing now.”
“You should most definitely rest some more.”
“I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”
“As your healer-”
You turn. He is closer to you than you anticipated, but it is already too late to turn back. You just have to let him taste your words if you wanted to or not. Namjoon seems rather eager to do so, eyes flitting between your lips and your eyes.
“So you are my healer now?” you speak in a lowered voice, looking at his lips afterwards.
“I just meant that- hah” He steps back with flushed cheeks, clearing his throat. “Either way, as a healer, I would suggest rest.”
“Thanks, I’ll rest in our next camp. This area is still drenched in the morgul’s stench keeping other morguls away for now. If we wait for too long, the wind is going to carry it away and others will know that this is a territory without a master.”
“I see. I didn’t know this, thank you for educating me. I will start packing right away.”
He offers to carry your stuff, which you decline. You are barely hurting and you feel strong. He still manages to convince you to at least give him your sleeping roll.
He fixes it on his shoulder, following you as you lead the way through the snow. There are no clouds on the sky today, but the air is still freezing cold.
In the far distance further north, the mountains the journey leads to next are calling. Namjoon prays to Vairë the Willow Mother and goddess of nature that the journey will not be in vain. He cannot allow another failure.
You and he have walked around two hours when a familiar bellowing stills your steps. The second elk, sole survivor of the morgul attack, runs to you and him.
“No way. Ethel, you survived!” Namjoon yells, running to the elk. He drops all his bags, falling around the elk’s neck.
“Oh how happy I am to see you. You must have been so scared all alone with morguls on the hunt.”
The elk lets him hug her, bellowing softly.
You pick up after Namjoon, closing the distance.
“Welcome back, girl”, you say, giving the elk a firm pat on the shoulder. “What a shame that we couldn’t keep the both of you safe.”
“Yes, oh what a shame. Poor Ell, you poor animal.”
While Namjoon grieves the loss of the elk, you load the bags onto Ethel. You climb atop the animal, nudging Namjoon with your foot.
“Yes?”
“Get up here. We cannot waste time.”
“Are you quite certain?”
“Yes.” You scoot back. “Go on.”
Namjoon swallows down his nerves and climbs atop the elk. His hips are nestled into your crotch, your thighs rub against his and your chest presses into his back. You reach to the front, giving the reigns a soft shake.
Ethel continues the travel, swaying from side to side. All Namjoon can concentrate on is the feeling of your body against his’. It confuses him as much as it flusters him.
“So we, uhm, are sharing an elk.”
“Your observations seem correct.”
“Do you have enough space?”
“Plenty.”
“Alright, yes that’s good. Mhm good”, he babbles and falls silent because his mind entirely blanks on what to say next.
You give him a glance, one he does not see. What is his problem all of a sudden?
“Do you have enough space?” you ask.
“Me? Oh yes. Yes, yes of course. Plenty”, he stutters, clearing his throat loudly. “What a sunny day, isn’t it?”
“Mhm, you are correct.”
“The journey will be quicker with Ethel, won’t it?”
“I assume so, yes.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you all night? I know you fought a morgul for some time, but surely this couldn’t have taken all night.”
“I took watch outside and decided to retrieve your book after a while. I found the morgul’s trail halfway back, then spent some hours chasing it down and killing it. The walk back took a little longer for reasons known to you.”
“So you are telling me that it didn’t attack you? You actually hunted it?”
“It killed Ell, didn’t it?”
“It did, but. Nevermind. I am glad that you returned.”
“Mhm, I’m sure that you are”, you say and rest your balled hands on his thighs.
Namjoon gasps, exhaling shakily. He squirms between your legs, dragging an amused smirk to your lips.
Dawn is kissing the sky when you finally reach your destination. You take Ethel into the cave with you.
“Why is it that we are safe in these caves? There is nothing stopping a morgul from entering and yet last night, it seemed as if it was practically scared of it”, Namjoon asks, scanning his eyes over the cave walls in search of mushrooms.
“Their bodies aren’t made to survive in warmer temperatures. Their skins would blister and peel off in these temperatures. They also hate the feeling of soil on their feet.”
“Interesting. This explains why we do not have them beyond the Great Wall. They would die.”
“Mhm.”
“Then we can be grateful for these caves and hopefully this one will have mushrooms.”
“We will just go to the next one of it doesn’t.”
“As much as I like your enthusiasm, I cannot afford more added days of travel. My village needs me.”
You light two torches, handing him one.
“Then we better get searching.”
He accepts the torch, looking at you just a little too long. Your willingness to help surprises him constantly. He had such a terribly false image of hexers.
“Thank you for helping me.”
“Sure. It must be difficult to carry such a burden alone.”
“It is. It is very difficult. My apprentice is currently helping the people, but I know that she is only dragging out the inevitable. I have to return with the mushrooms no matter what.”
“And you will. Let’s split up. I search the right side, you search the left side.”
“Yes, thank you. Truly, thank you.”
The cave is quite assessable. It does not take a lot of time to traverse and search it. You and he meet in the middle.
“And?” he asks.
“Nothing. You?”
“Nothing.” He sinks down, resting his head on his knees. “Absolutely nothing. Am I hopeless? Have I finally found my answer?”
“We’ll just go to the next one.”
“Have you not heard what I said this morning? I cannot afford more days of travel. My apprentice will run out of medicine, the sickness will spread and I will…I am going to fail my people”, his voice trembles at the end.
“No, you will not. You shouldn’t give up hope.”
“Well, I have. I-I imagined caves and caves filled with mushrooms. I thought that this would be easy, that this would be the one thing which wouldn’t fail me on my quest. I bloody thought that there would be mushrooms.” He balls his hands to fists. “The one thing which wasn’t to fail…failed.”
Namjoon drops his head, sniffling loudly.
You lower yourself, exhaling deeply.
“I am sorry that I dragged you into this”, he whispers shakily. “You can keep the coin of course, after all you kept me safe till now. Although I wish you hadn’t.”
“Hey now, don’t talk like this. Not everything is lost yet.”
“Give it up. It’s useless.” He pulls his knees closer to his face, hugging his own legs. “I’ve failed them. I killed my people”, he chokes out, shoulders beginning to shake.
“I won’t hear any of this. I’m not marching seven days in freezing weather just to give up. You hear me? You are not to give up.”
He stays unresponsive, borrowing grief from a future which has not yet come true.
You give up with a sigh and stand back up. He might be wilting away in sorrow, but not you. You pick up your torch and begin your search anew.
Namjoon knows that you are searching again, but he cannot move out of this state. He is trapped in his own body. How will he tell his people? How will he ever go on? How will he call himself a healer when he failed to do his job?
“Namjoon.”
He hears your voice, but cannot answer you. He cannot face you. He feels so ashamed.
“Namjoon, look here. Do you see this?”
He lifts his head. You are facing the wall, touching it.
“What is it?” he croaks.
“The wall here is cracked.”
“And? Stone moves and cracks. What is so special about a damned cracked wall?” he lowers his head again.
“I can feel the air moving.”
“And?”
“Air flow means that there is something behind this stone.”
His head shoots up once more. “Are you certain?”
“More than certain. And look, runes.”
“Runes?”
“Feel them.”
Namjoon stumbles to his feet, running to you as fast as possible. He slams his hands on the wall.
“You are right! There are runes on this stone! Light, I-I need light.”
You shine the torch on them. Namjoon laughs breathily,
“I cannot believe it. This is Numerin, ancient Elvish. The-the-the language of my ancestors”, he stutters, barely getting his words out.
“Can you read it?” you ask, feeling hopeful as well.
“Yes! Yes, with great difficulty but yes I can read it. It says that, that those who walk the path of good may enter.”
“So are we not walking this supposed right path or why are we still here?”
“No, but this is a riddle. I have read of it.” He takes out his book, mumbling to himself as he looks for the solution. It takes him a good while until suddenly he gasps.
“Found it?”
“Hopefully.”
Namjoon steps closer to the stone and places his hands on it.
“You do the same”, he tells you.
You place your hands next to his.
He closes his eyes and begins to speak in Numerin. It leaves his tongue slowly, but you trust that he knows what he is doing.
The runes and cracks begin to glow, a low rumble shakes the ground. It becomes stronger and stronger until suddenly it stops.
Your arms sink into the stone as if it were liquid. He laughs breathily, searching for your eyes.
“I did it!”
“It seems so.”
“Come, follow me. The stone knows that we are friends.”
“After this, I can say that I’ve seen everything”, you say and place your hand on his shoulder so you would not lose him as you and he cross the magical wall to another cave.
A small opening in the ceiling lets in the light of the moon, illuminating the entire cave in blue light. The air is warm and damp, the sound of water droplets constantly hitting the ground can be heard. Thick, green moss grows on the walls and different species of moss and ferns cover the ground. A waterfall of clear glacier water trickles into a natural stream. Delicate flowers grow along the bed. The stream ends in a spacious pool of steaming hot water, which explains the warm climate of this cave.
“Correction: now I have seen everything”, you murmur, gazing in awe. You do not find a lot of beauty in life, but this right here is undeniably beautiful.
“My ancestors must have used the spell to protect it. This is exactly how these caves were described in my books. This is what I imagined. I cannot believe that we have found this place”, Namjoon whispers, for he fears that if he spoke any louder it would be dishonourable for the place.
“I have to say, it’s quite nice.”
“It is more than nice. It is beautiful.”
“And isn’t this your mushroom?” you ask, pointing at a group of blue mushrooms growing under some ferns.
“By Vairë, you found them!”
Namjoon falls to his knees before them, sobbing loudly.
“My village is saved. I did it.” He buries his face in his hands. “We truly did it.”
Feeling for him, you close the distance and pat the crown of his head wordlessly. Namjoon lets you share in his emotional moment, crying tears of relief and happiness. He had already given up hope, imagining how it would have been to return empty handed and watch his people die.
You have given him back hope.
“If it wasn’t for you, my people would already be dead.” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. “Thank you so much. I thank you”, he chokes out, bowing down to rest his forehead on your feet. “Thank you, truly thank you.”
“You don’t have to do all that.”
“I do. I am forever in your debt, truly.”
“Now hold your gratitude. I still have to get you back in one piece.”
“I know that you will”, he says and turns to the mushrooms, beginning to harvest them. “They’re saved. I cannot believe it.”
“Shouldn’t you wait with plucking them?”
“No, I have to smoke them overnight. Only then, they will release their active agents. I will build the fire outside and then collect the finished mushrooms tomorrow morning.”
“I see.”
He stands up, clasping the solution to all his problems tightly in his trembling hands.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to build a fire.”
“Suit yourself. I’m setting up camp here. I might go to sleep soon.”
“Yes, sleep well and thank you. Truly.”
“Don’t mention it”, you dismiss him, trying your hardest not to stare at his face for too long. It flushes when he is excited.
Namjoon takes at least an hour to build the fire. He expects you to sleep already when he returns to the secret cave, but is met with another view. You are bathing in the hot spring. You placed your armour by your sleeping mat and the swords next to the edge of the natural pool. The moonlight illuminates the cave enough that Namjoon sees you clearly. You have your back turned to him, lost in deep thought.
He knows it to be improper, but Namjoon still uses the moment to study you. Your back and arms are sculpted, covered in scars. The scars are deep and clearly marks of past encounters with the most gruesome of monsters. Namjoon cannot stop staring, imagining all the battles you must have fought and wondering how you managed to heal enough to keep going.
He also cannot deny that the view of you excites him. You are so strong and feminine in your own mesmerising way. He is so terribly attracted to you, but he tries not to think of it. How rude to even insinuate that he would be so un-mannerly with you.
“I know that you are here.”
“Oh. What? How?”
“I can hear and smell better than a normal person, remember?” You say and turn. You lower yourself deeper into the water so your breasts are covered.
Namjoon flusters under your intense gaze. Perhaps he has truly gone mad, but it feels as if you were trying to imagine what lies beneath his clothing.
“The water’s warm, you know? Why don’t you come and join me?” you offer.
“What about your wound? Soaking it in water is a terrible thing to do so soon after surgery.”
“The waters are making it better. Join me and have a look.”
“I wouldn’t want to infiltrate your space.”
“You aren’t. You must be cold.”
He definitely is. The cave outside is freezing in comparison to this little paradise. The cold of it is still in his bones.
“Is it truly alright of me?” he asks.
“Yes”, you show him your version of a welcoming smile and scoot to the side of the natural pool. Then you turn, giving him privacy.
Namjoon undresses with a racing heart. He is nervous, fearing that his body will betray him and make you uncomfortable. He cannot be a pervert. He has to be mannerly.
Namjoon steps into the warm water, sinking in quickly to hide himself. He lets out a deep sigh, making you look at him.
“And?”
“It is so warm. My cold bones needed it.”
“See? I know what’s best for you”, you say, truly not making it easier for him.
You take a deep breath and stand up. The water ripples off your breasts and sculpted stomach. Namjoon looks at the ceiling of the cave, hating his heart for palpitating.
“Well? Are you going to check?” you stress.
“Of course, I am. Ahem. Excuse me”, Namjoon says, looking at your side with burning cheeks.
The stitches have almost closed up completely. On the smaller parts, they already did.
“By Vairë. They are actively closing.”
“It seems so. Must be more of your ancient elven magic.”
“It makes so much sense. Ice peel gain their healing powers because of the water they consume. Of course the waters in this cave are magical.”
You lower yourself into the water, “your people were great. Did you learn all this through your books?”
“I did. Oh goddesses, I feel guilty being in these waters. What if we pollute them?”
“Should have thought that before joining me, aye?”
He flusters.
“Relax. As long as you don’t pour toxins into it, I don’t see why our bodies would spoil it. Besides, there must be circulation, otherwise the stream would force it to overflow.”
“Right.”
You wade to the edge and pick up the sponge, offering it to him on your palm.
“Here. If you wish to clean yourself.”
“Thank you”, he accepts the sponge with his eyes lowered politely.
You scan your eyes over him. He interests you. You cannot deny it any longer. He is a very handsome man and wonderful company. And tonight ended on such a hopeful, happy note that you feel more intent on following your desires.
You know what you were doing when you invited him to bathe with you. You would have respected it if he denied you, but he didn’t and, subconsciously or not, gave you his answer with it.
This pretty elf man wants to be seduced.
“Have you made your smoking…thing?” you ask him, following his hand with your eyes as it drags the sponge over his body. His skin is so untainted.
“I have. My mother taught me how to and how to build a self-sustaining fire. I will check on it later, but it should work just as intended.”
“You must feel relieved.”
“Beyond any sort of imagination. I already gave up hope.”
“I told you that you mustn’t.”
“That you did. I should have believed you.”
“Whether you believed me or not doesn’t matter anymore. I turned out to be right”, you joke, hoping that he will enjoy it.
He laughs deeply, scrunching his eyes. How utterly alluring his voice sounds.
“You did. I am glad that you did”, he says, meeting your eyes and keeping up the connection just a little bit too long for it to be incidental.
You nod your head, fighting the urge to look at his lips.
“What will you do first after you have made the medicine and healed your village?” you ask.
“Probably run through the streets screaming and singing.”
You scoff, “really?”
“Maybe. Honestly? Merely having these mushrooms makes me so excited already that I want to scream.”
“Yes? Are you a screamer?”
Namjoon drops the sponge in the water, spending the next few moments fishing for it rather clumsily.
“I, uh. So-sorry?”
“I was just wondering if you tend to scream a lot.”
“Oh. Uhm. Hah. It depends. I scream when I get excited. Not this kind of excited! I, uhm”, he turns away, splashing water onto his face.
You chuckle, “forgive me, I’m only messing with you.”
“I knew that.”
“Did you?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, not really”, you say and pick up the sponge. You wade closer to him, sitting down on the natural bench and handing him the sponge.
Namjoon accepts it, breathing quickly when your fingers touch.
“You have to tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable”, you say.
He meets your gaze confidently, “I’m not uncomfortable. Not in the slightest.”
“Yes? Unlike with Lady Duvallet?”
He lowers his eyes bashfully, “yes, unlike with her.”
You relax in the water, scanning your eyes up and down his exposed chest. His nipples are slightly hardened from the difference in temperatures. He has surprisingly big pecs for someone of his profession.
“I’m delighted to hear that”, you say, finally pulling your hand back. It tingles where you touched.
He chuckles shyly, lowering himself in the water. He cannot look away from you. You are so close to him and seem so mesmerised.
“Have you done your back already?” he offers bashfully.
“I haven’t.”
“Do you wish me to?”
You turn your back to him wordlessly. Your gesture may have been without words, but Namjoon understands you completely. He knows what you are currently doing and he also knows how his actions only help to evolve this situation further.
He stands up, towering over you in this position. Your neck seems so tender in comparison to your otherwise scarred skin. He places his left hand on your shoulder, feeling your muscles tense and relax. With a racing heart, he guides the sponge over your skin while his left hand massages your tense muscles.
“You must have fought many monsters”, he speaks in a low voice.
“I have. It’s been my life for…fuck, honestly for too long.”
“Do you ever dream of retiring?”
“Dreams? Retiring?” You laugh. “These two words are foreign to hexer. The only way we retire is by meeting a monster better than us. We don’t dream, we lose and die.”
“It does not have to be this way. You can just simply stop one day.”
“Tch, if it only was this easy.”
“I hope that it will be one day. I do not wish for you to retire by getting killed.”
He brings a smile to your lips. For a small speck in time, you feel hopeful and filled with dreams. Is this how you made him feel when you found this cave? If you did, then it is nice. Very nice.
Namjoon guides the sponge down your right arm, dancing his left hand beside it. Perhaps he is imagining it, but your body practically seems to melt under his touch. You must be under so much tension constantly. He begins to massage you with more intent, hoping that you can enjoy it.
You do. You enjoy it, fighting the urge to close your eyes. It has been terribly long since you experienced such a relaxing moment.
“I know that you will call me naive again, but dream with me for a moment. What would you do if you could retire?” he fills the silence.
“Tch, really?”
“Yes, really. Just for a moment, dream.”
“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “I would live a simple life in a small village far away from any big city. I’d have a garden where I’d grow my own food, I’d help around the village where I can and at night I would sleep in an actual bed.”
“This sounds like a wonderful dream. Why not chase it?”
He guides the sponge to your left arm, making you melt even more.
“Because it isn’t meant to be mine.”
“Well, if you look at it with such a mindset of course it won’t ever be yours. It sounds to me as if you have already given up without ever having tried.”
“Tch”, you glance at him, “this is ridiculous. Dreams will kill you in the end.”
“No, they won’t. Dreaming and hoping is what keeps us alive. Having nothing to work towards, nothing to look forward to or dream about is what kills you. Perhaps not physically, but it is a death sentence nonetheless.”
He drags a second smile out of you.
“You are annoyingly optimistic again. I’m glad.”
He lowers his eyes bashfully, cheeks dimpling as he chuckles. You nudge his chest with your shoulder, skin tingling when his fingers instinctively close around your arms.
“Thank you, I needed this”, you say.
“I…of course.”
You turn to face him, stealing the sponge out of his hand.
“May I return the favour?”
Namjoon turns his back to you, lowering himself into the water. You stand up and place your hands on his shoulders. He tenses up, relaxing with a shaky exhale.
Despite his occupation, he is an impressively built man. His back carries muscles and his arms are sculpted. And yet something about him feels so fragile and tender. It makes you want to treat him gently. Which is something you do not do often. Truth be told, you are quite nervous about it.
“Is this pressure comfortable for you?”
“More than comfortable. Thank you.”
“I had dreams once, you know. I wasn’t always the lifeless hexer.”
“I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all. I appreciate your words.”
You circle the sponge down his spine, feeling him shiver.
“Well then, I’m glad. What were your dreams?” he asks.
“The same as right now, but with my late husband.”
“Oh. I see. Forgive me for asking.”
“No, I don’t mind.”
You guide the sponge up his spine, tracing his neck. Namjoon sighs, rolling his head to the side. You desire to kiss his neck, to feel him shiver and hear him sigh again.
“It was nice to dream again, even if it was only for a moment”, you confess.
“So you truly think that this life is not meant for you?”
You scoff breathily, “I’ll give you my answer once we have crossed the Great Wall and have actual soil under our feet again.”
He laughs.
“Fair enough. To think that we have to do all of this again. All those nights shivering away in shrubs. Awful.”
“I agree.”
You circle him, guiding the sponge to his pecs. Namjoon’s eyes flit to your breasts. You feel his chest rise and sink in a shaky breath. His lips look so tempting up close.
“You don’t mind, do you? You are a healer after all”, you whisper, presenting yourself with a slight arch of your back.
“Hah! I am indeed.” He meets your eyes. His pupils are dilated. “But then, this isn’t why you are so comfortable with me, is it?”
“You might have figured me out.”
You and he chuckle.
You sink back into the water. The sponge floats in the water, forgotten and abandoned.
“Have you been able to be intimate with another after your wives’ death?” you ask him.
He widens his eyes at your blunt question.
“If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t. I tried to, but I couldn’t.”
“Yes, me neither.”
Namjoon nods his head in understanding. The rippling water reflects the shine of the moon onto his skin. You wish to kiss the spots.
“Do you miss it?” you ask.
He meets your curious eyes with just as much curiosity.
“In general”, you add.
“I believe…yes, sometimes I really miss it. It has been a very long time.”
“I miss it too.”
Namjoon gulps. So he wasn’t imagining things. There is a pull between you and him and he can barely fight it.
“It has been a very long time for me too.”
“I can imagine.”
“Yes, indeed.”
You look at his lips, “I miss it right now”, you purr.
“I see…I miss it too”, he breathes, looking at your lips.
The pull wins. You and Namjoon close the distance at the same time, meeting in the middle to share a kiss.
Chaste and shy at first. Like two teenagers kissing for the first time. It feels exciting to hold his face.
“Have I misunderstood?” you ask, keeping close.
“Not in the slightest”, he assures you, kissing you again.
You purr and wrap your muscular arms around him, squeezing him to your body. Namjoon mewls happily, rolling his hips against you. To feel another’s skin again is so nice.
“Fuck. Namjoon”, you get out, tasting his moan as you hands begin to roam his torso. How soft his skin is, how incredibly soft.
Namjoon is dizzy. Your hands are calloused yet your touch is gentle. Well, at least as gentle as your rough life taught you. He enjoys it. Being grabbed, kneaded and claimed sends sparks through his veins.
He has to wrap his legs round your waist under the water, hooking his arms behind your head as his lips dance with yours desperately. You growl, rolling your hips up instinctively. Your touch is possessive.
He feels seventy years younger again. Giddy and dizzy and insanely turned on.
You hold him under his bottom, pressing him close to you. He isn’t heavy, his skin is so soft against yours. His lips are just as soft, dancing with yours desperately.
It would be so nice if it wasn’t for the sharp pain on your side.
“Fuck”, you press out, having to drop him.
“What’s the matter?”
“My side. I can’t strain it for too long.”
“You shouldn’t. Sit down. Sit. Let me do most of it”, he pushes you down onto the stone, making you chuckle. Worry is written all over his face. “Did they rip open again? Describe your pain to me.”
You take his hands, calming down his endless fumbling by kissing his knuckles. It shakes the breath he releases.
“I’m fine.” You stub his knuckles with your nose then meet his eyes. “It’s just taking a little longer for the waters to fix the inner layers. My muscles hurt.”
“I see. Then you definitely shouldn’t strain them until the magic worked.” He pulls your hands close, resting his chin on them just to beg. “May I serve you, please?”
Your lips curl into a fond smile, “of course.”
“How far do you want me to go?”
“All the way.” You drag him close by his hips, looking up at him with fond, lustful eyes. “You are a delight, Namjoon.”
His eyes find yours. Submission stares back at you. Confident submission. He places his hands on your shoulders, lowering his lips to your neck. You stop him, purring softly when Namjoon licks the finger your press against his lips. You are so close to him, his kiss is within reach. The pull is addictive and natural.
“Allow me a taste first”, you tell him, smiling up at him seductively.
Namjoon obeys you, straightening his back to present his body to you.
“What a good boy you are”, you rasp and connect your tongue with his lower stomach to drag it up to his navel. Namjoon bites his lip, stomach rippling and cock throbbing. You are so close to where he needs you most, riling him up when you dance your tongue to his chest instead. You flick your tongue over his perky nipples, purring contently.
The grip on his waist is demanding yet gentle, guiding him so your knee slips between his legs.
His knees buckle. You lift your leg to apply pressure on his sensitive balls, showing his body how to move. He follows your clear instruction, grasping your strong upper arms for support.
It feels so good. Your muscular thigh tenses under him, your skin is so soft and you angle his hips so his rim would be stimulated as well. Namjoon imagined a dozen different ways of how his night would end, but not like this. Not so pleasurable.
“So delicious”, you rasp, giving his nipple one last flick before smiling at him.
He retorts it shyly and lowers his lips to your jawline. “Mhhhm”, you let out, rolling your head to the side. His lips feel amazing.
“Guide me if I do terribly. I want this to be amazing for you.”
“I am so touch-starved, anything you do is amazing.”
He chuckles, following it up with a curse. He sits down on your lap, moaning deeply when you grab his waist. He rocks his hips back and forth as his starving lips explore your neck. He definitely must have done this before. Only a man who knows the delights of sitting on a woman’s lap can move his hips in such ways.
It wouldn’t be unlikely. He was married after all and traditions around marital duties for men haven’t changed much. This pretty man is definitely not unfamiliar with being fucked.
You rest your hands on his bottom, making him moan almost embarrassingly high. He changes sides of your neck, blessing you with eager kisses and submissive sounds.
“You are doing so well”, you purr lazily, enjoying yourself entirely.
This man is truly a surprise for you. In a good way. When you first met him, you never would have figured just how well you fit together. He is such pleasant company, highly intelligent and witty, empathetic and open-minded and most of all: mature. You have been on this continent for too long to find immaturity attractive. Namjoon is truly a pleasant surprise and a highly pleasurable one.
“How good you are…”
He gathers your breasts and explores the unknown territory with such skilled enthusiasm that you genuinely have to arch your back. He arches his as well, sticking out his ass in order to reach you comfortably. He isn’t unfamiliar with this position, purring against your skin when your fingers wander further down to his buttocks and squeeze.
Namjoon mewls, thanking you by licking your soft breasts.
“Goddesses”, you get out, rolling your head back. You knew that your chest was sensitive, but you forgot just how much. Sparks course through you each time he flicks his tongue over your nipples. Tingles run down your spine each time he licks your skin. Magical warmth gathers between your legs because of his noises.
“Namjoon, fuck yes.”
Namjoon purrs, looking up at you as best as the position allows him. Your head is tilted back, your neck is exposed sinfully and your lips are parted.
Namjoon feels the long-awaited tingle of submission in his stomach. He really missed serving. Especially such a beautiful and strong woman as you. Your strength, your resilience, your empathy and kindness surprised him most positively, capturing him entirely.
He craves to know every inch of you and hungers to learn how pleasure shows itself on you.
He slips off your lap and dives into the water.
“Nam-”
His mouth connects with your cunt.
“-joon!” You grab his head underwater, hips thrusting against his face. You expected everything but this. “Fucking..argh.”
Namjoon hums, grasping your hips as he buries himself deeper. The water washes away any trace of your taste, making him hungrier and hungrier. Oh truly, he is a man starved. Starved for pleasure, starved for serving and most of all starved for cunt. It has been too long. In more ways than one. He has been under the water for too long.
Namjoon dives up with a gasp for air, standing up in the shallow pool. The water reaches him right under his navel, pearling off his body. His chest heaves up and down quickly, his eyes are half-lidded and entirely focused on you.
You meet his intensity, panting quickly. This is a wordless conversation and you both speak it perfectly.
You grab the back of his neck, he draws closer, you sit down on the edge of the pool and push him between your legs while Namjoon falls before you willingly. It happens simultaneously like a perfectly coordinated dance.
Namjoon grasps your hips and moans, wrapping his puffy lips around your clit to worship her as if she was a goddess.
“Namjoon”, you moan his name loudly, burying your left hand in his wet hair. You lean back on your right hand, arching your back. Your legs close around his head, keeping him a willing hostage.
This is violent in a sense. Nothing about this is gentle. Neither you with how you trap him nor him with how he feasts on your cunt. This is the shared act of two people starved of pleasure, of connection and carnal sin. It is done with urgency and desperation and no decorum.
You hump his face just as much as he manhandles your cunt with his mouth.
And it is glorious.
The caves sings in your shared song of pleasure. Namjoon’s deep, guttural growls, your ecstatic moans, ripples of water and wet slurping as he drinks your sweet pleasure.
“By the goddesses, I urge you not to stop. Ah!”
Namjoon couldn’t stop even if you wanted him to. He is hostage to the feast, incapable of gaining back control. You taste so good. It is as if he was consuming paradise. He buries his tongue in your trembling cunt, having to crane his neck for it. Like this, he opens his eyes to gaze at the woman who finally allows him to want pleasure again. Who made him want connection and intimacy.
You find his submissive gaze instinctively, running your calloused hand over his forehead and along the crown of his head. Over and over again, making him shiver.
“Good boy.”
Namjoon moans upon being stared at with such carnal hunger, curling his tongue inside you.
“Urgh”, your face scrunches attractively, “this is teasing, give me your fingers right now or I will lose it.”
Whatever you need, Namjoon wants to grant it to you. He lifts his head, using the moment to breathe. Your legs slip from his shoulders like this. You prop them up on the stone, exposing yourself confidently. And you have every right to feel this way. Your cunt is beautiful in the most sinful of ways. Namjoon’s cock throbs at the view, desiring nothing more than to fill her.
Not yet.
He connects his two longest fingers with your cunt and pushes inside.
“Yes”, you growl, falling onto your back and grabbing him by his head to pull him onto your clit.
Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut, moaning loudly. The way you manhandle him fills him with the greatest pleasure. He wants to serve you so much better, wants to help you touch the stars and find enlightenment.
He begins pumping his fingers into you in a sloppy, hard rhythm, curling them whenever he is the deepest. You produce the most blissed out of noises because of it, twisting his hair.
And while he fucks your cunt, his tongue and lips worship your clit as if they needed it to survive. Perhaps he does in this little moment. Perhaps he truly needs you in your most bared state because he feels bared himself. Serving a beautiful woman is so fulfilling, Namjoon feels close to tears in ecstasy. He missed this so much.
He picks up speed, pounding your willing cunt as if she owed him. He knows exactly how to curl his fingers.
“By the fucking goddesses. Urgh!” You kick the stone, lifting your hips off of it a second later. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t! Urgh! Stop!”
This is it. The crescendo you have been receiving from only yourself for decades. It is finally time. Somebody else is giving it to you and you have forgotten just how much more intense it feels.
You curl your toes, grasping the edge of the pool with your right hand while your left twists his hair to the point of causing pain.
Namjoon enjoys it, knowing exactly what it meant. He helps you out even more, dancing his left hand along your torso until he can play with your breasts. He does it with little tenderness, but a lot of respect.
“Namjoon!”
His name echoes through the cave as he makes you climax. Curses so graphic that they will not be written down follow as you ride on paradisiacal levels of pleasure.
Namjoon helps you ride it out, offering you his face to hump and fuck and grind against until you drop in satisfaction, pushing him away.
He listens well, satisfying his hunger by licking his creamed fingers.
“Fucking hells, what in the ever loving fuck?” You sit up.
Namjoon meets your dazed eyes.
“I hope I am not overstepping, but your wife was a very lucky woman.”
Namjoon flusters, “was she?”
“Yes”, you climb into the water, claiming him with your hands on the nape of his neck. Namjoon gazes at you submissively, placing his hands on your hips. Your hands are restless, your body seeks him instinctively.
“I want to fuck you until you scream”, you lull, letting him taste the words. Namjoon’s head turns, it aches not to be inside you.
“You aren’t sated?” he asks more for himself than for you.
“You were wondeful, but I am greedy”, you tug on his lower lip with your teeth, making him keen and chase you, “the greediest woman you will ever know. I want to have all of you.”
Namjoon gulps, taking just a little too long to respond for your taste.
“Unless you do not wish to-”
“No, I do. I do. I just…forgive me, I haven’t taken my preventative medicine in ages and I wouldn’t want to impose a child on you.”
It is unofficial law on the continent that men take very meticulous and cautious measures with birth control. There is oral medicine, vaccines or certain metal spirals inserted into their sperm canals through the urethra to numb their sperm so that women can enjoy them without having to worry about pregnancies. As a matter of fact, it is asked of men as an unspoken show of manners that they do not burden the women with preventative measures, instead they alone should carry the burden. The richer can afford painless methods such as fertility spells, while the less better off use the previous described methods. Most of the men grew up with this rule and live by it without complaint despite the discomfort most of these measures bring because this is what society expects of them.
You never really cared about this rule for a very specific reason.
“I don’t care. My mutations made me sterile and I cannot catch mortal illnesses nor spread them.”
“I see”, Namjoon exhales in relief and draws closer, letting you feel his words against your lips, “please fuck me then.”
You smile, “with the greatest pleasure.”
You push at his chest, making him fall on the stone bench, and climb his lap. Namjoon places his hands on your hips, looking up at you submissively. You take his face between your thumb and middle finger, tilting his head up further.
His cheeks are flushed, his lips are so puffy from his feast. His dark, long hair sticks to his skin.
“You have the prettiest face”, you coo, sinking down on his aching cock. His eyes go out of focus, his lips fall open. He exhales shakily, fingers dimpling your hips as he tries to survive the current moment. Eighty years of abstinence is a terribly long time and your cunt is so incredibly soft.
He bottoms out, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.
“Ah fuck”, he chokes out, following it up with a needy keen.
“Yeah. Fuck”, you agree, picking up a quick rhythm. You truly cannot be bothered with tenderness. This man came into your life and dragged you out of your self-made cave of abstinence. It is very difficult not to act like a starved animal when he makes you feel desire, arousal and attraction again after seventy years of nothingness.
Namjoon doesn’t mind your rough rhythm, arching his back to the point his pretty nipples stick out of the water. It ripples each time you slam your hips down, hitting his neck and your breasts over and over again.
“Is this good for you, pretty boy?”
“So good, so good, ah so good”, he chants, dimpling your hips with his fingers.
“You’re fucking amazing, argh.”
It happens instinctively that your hand slips to his throat. No pressure, just contact.
“Yes, ah”, he gets out, deep voice tickling your palm and cock throbbing inside you. “mhm, mhmm. Ah…”
You still don’t apply pressure, simply keeping it there because at this moment you want him to know that you own him. Right here in this little cave of paradise your ownership over him is as certain as the moonshine kissing your bodies.
“Harder, please”, he begs.
“Mhm, fuck”, you purr, finally putting pressure on his veins. His pulse flutters, he moans loudly and rolls his hips up.
“Thank you, Mistress…”
“Namjoon”, you gasp, hips stuttering in shock. This man will keep surprising you over and over. “Kiss me, you fucking treasure”, you order.
Namjoon obeys gladly, feeding you his needy moans while you feed him your tongue. His head is turning, his stomach keeps tensing. He missed sex so much. It is so clear to him now that you are bouncing on him and he feels a hand around his throat again. Namjoon dances his hands up to your chest. He touches your wounded side carefully and increases the pressure when he reaches your breasts.
The kiss breaks when you gasp for air.
“What do you enjoy?” he asks, kneading your breasts first before following it up with attention to solely your nipples. He wants to show you what his hands can do.
“Both, just keep going. You’re doing so well”, you praise him, pulling him back into the kiss by his neck.
Namjoon purrs, toes curling. He can feel that you are holding back, that you aren’t squeezing down with all your strength. It makes him dizzy. It is already ruining enough to feel your big, muscular thighs cage him in so to feel your hand actively restraining itself really does the rest. He hopes that he can please you in return, that his hands worship your breasts in ways you enjoy. He gathers them in his fingers and squeezes them before ending it by playing with your nipples. He repeats it, mixes the order and moans as much as he can. People tell him that his voice is nice, so he hopes that it serves you on your quest for bliss.
He has no idea just how well it serves you and how much you enjoy his touches. You are enchanted by him. You angle your hips better, clit grinding against his lower stomach. It breaks the kiss, but neither you nor he mind.
“You feel so fucking good”, you growl, staring at him like a predator stalking her prey.
Namjoon retorts your look with submissive confidence, cheeks flushed and lips puffy.
“Tell me I feel good too.”
“You do”, he chokes out, sliding his hands from your breasts to grasp your wrist.
“Hands on my chest, now”, you order, giving his cheek a gentle slap.
He gasps, eyes going foggy.
“Harder.”
You obey his wish with burning passion. You choke him tightly and slap his pretty face. Namjoon keens, grasping your breasts rather roughly to continue his massage.
“Good boy, there we go”, you praise, rewarding him with another slap.
He sobs softly, biting his lower lip afterwards. His cheek is throbbing, his head is so dizzy. He is in paradise, gazing at you as if you were his goddess reincarnated.
You change hands. One around his throat and the other slapping his untouched cheek. His eyes spill tears, his thighs tremble under you.
“Fuck, you are so pretty”, you pant, having to slap him just to see his face light up in reaction.
“I have to…soon…”
“I know. Me too”, you promise him and claim his bitten lips in a kiss. The hand which once slapped him, closes around a bundle of his long hair.
Namjoon cannot decide whether to whimper into your mouth or go completely silent. This is stealing any sense of sanity from him. His entire lower body feels charged in pleasure, his cock is so hard that he aches.
You twist his hair, a tugging sensation spreads over his scalp. Namjoon breaks the kiss yet again, “now.”
You moan with him, riding on his high with sloppy hips. It matters rather little to you that your harsh movements make it all the more intense for him, that Namjoon is forced into a state of burning overstimulation.
“Please. Ah, please! Please! Please”, he cries, wiggling helplessly which only makes you pin him down harder.
“Soon, pretty one, soon. Breathe for me”, you encourage him, basking in his presence. How sweetly he shakes.
“I can’t, I can’t. Mistress please, a-ah please.”
“Good boy, such a good boy”, you purr, thighs pinning his shaking hips into place and stomach tightening more and more. “Fuck, you’re getting me there. Fuck yes.”
“I-I’m dizzy. Mistress ah”, he sobs, throbbing inside you despite his aches. You are tightening so much. It feels so good and intense. Namjoon chases it even if it makes his cock feel on fire.
“Fuck! Yes! Ah, Namjoon”, you moan, throwing your head back. This was it, the last thing you needed. Paradise is yours and it fills your entire body with magical tingles.
He helps you through it even if the overstimulation blurs his vision. He has to. It is his duty and he loves it.
It takes seven sloppy thrusts to finish. You drop into him, arms closing around his head and lips tickling his neck.
“Good boy…fuck”, you breathe out, following it up with a breathy chuckle.
He snickers with you, “I know, right.”
“Mhm.”
It is nice to calm down together in this warm, gurgling hot spring. It must have started to snow because sprinkles of it are entering the cave by the opening. They look like stars in the moonlight, disappearing in the warm air before they can hit the ground.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask.
“Yes, just perfectly”, he says, making you scoff in amusement.
“You surprise me.” You lift your head and begin to run your palms along his shoulders and face. “The pretty elf likes it rough.”
He blushes, “I am less fragile than I look.”
“Mhm, how wonderful.” You peck his tender cheek. “It was good for me.”
“It was good for me as well. Thank you for allowing me this moment.”
“Mhm, any time you want.”
Namjoon’s stomach tingles. This almost sounded like a promise. The mere aspect that this could be repeated, makes his heart flutter.
“Fucking goddesses, orgasms are amazing when you have them with another”, you confess.
“They are. I cannot feel my toes still”, he jokes, making you scoff in amusement.
You kiss his second cheek, soothing the lingering ache. He is so happy.
“And tomorrow we are starting homewards. Are you ready for it?”
He meets your eyes, “partially. I am ready to finally save my people, but I am definitely not ready for all the freezing nights again.”
“Mhm.” You rest your head on his shoulder, dancing your fingers down his back.
Namjoon shivers, melting into your embrace. He traces your spine, feeling you relax.
“Unless…we have each other to keep warm”, he whispers, holding his breath afterwards as he awaits your reaction.
You scoff, “you are quite bold.” You pet his head. “You are not hogging the blanket.”
Namjoon finally exhales, chuckling softly.
“I promise.”
Namjoon lands softly, giving his horse a firm pat on the neck.
“You rode well, sweet girl”, he praises the mare, leading her to the village stables. “I promise to take care of your saddle soon, but I have to bring these mushrooms to my apprentice.”
“Don’t worry, I can do it.”
He looks over his shoulder at you. Your horse is by your side, its reins lay comfortably between your gloved fingers.
“Would you? Truly?”
“Of course. I’m better with horses than the green fever anyway.”
“I thank you, truly”, he says and hurries outside.
You watch as people begin to gather around him. Soon the calls begin and doors begin to open as more and more people hear of his return. They follow him, asking a million questions at the same time. You don’t envy him.
“Why does your hair look like that?”
You shift your eyes to the young voice by your feet. A little boy, perhaps five years of age and holding a straw doll, looks up at you curiously.
“Mutations.”
“What’s that?”
“Something I wish not even on my worst enemy”, you say and click your tongue to get your horse to move.
The boy follows you.
“Why do your eyes look like that?”
“Mutations.”
“Why do you have scars?”
“From fighting monsters.”
“Why do you have two swords?”
“To kill monsters.”
“Why two?”
“Monsters come in all shapes. I need different metals for different things.”
“What does that mean?”
His endless questions exhaust you, but you know better than to be terrible to a child. People don’t like it when hexer make children cry, you will always and exclusively be the guilty party in this situation. You take a deep breath t to gather yourself then turn with a forced smile on your lips.
“Tell you what, if you go back to your parents right now, I will tell you a very fun story later. Alright?”
The boy’s eyes light up, “yes, alright”, he thankfully listens, leaving you in peace.
Finally. Children can be so chatty.
You turn your attention to the horses. You prefer their company over that of random children any day.
The journey back was tedious and cold. With only one elk having to carry the both of you for most of the way, it took longer than anticipated. You almost missed the closing of the gate. If it wasn’t for your and Namjoon’s enthusiastic screams, perhaps you might have.
Lady Duvallet offered you food and accommodation. Namjoon also received another offer for a night with her, which he kindly rejected her before sneaking glances at you instead.
His company continued to be pleasant. He is a very wonderful man to keep close and when he asked you to accompany him to his village, you did not deny him.
You could have, perhaps you should have, but you didn’t wish to. You were curious about what he still had to offer and you always wanted to see his village safe. There was also the issue of road bandits from who you had to keep him safe – or so you told yourself when you didn’t want to admit that you became rather interested in him.
You walk through the village after having taken care of the horses. The people who once followed Namjoon now look at you curiously. You know that your appearance gives you away and that they must wonder if you were the hexer hired to save their lives.
You are used to such stares, just as you are used to being the savour of villages, towns and cities. And you are used to the rude welcomes you receive regardless, the bargaining once it comes to payment even if you risked your life for theirs. These stares mean nothing to you because you know that once you leave this village again, you will mean nothing to them.
“You.”
The young farmer stops upon being addressed by you, stumbling to the side.
“Ye-yes?”
“Where can I find Namjoon?”
“His hut, your ladyship”, he says and points at the wooden cottage at the north border of the village. It is by the lake with a herb garden in front of it.
You continue your way wordlessly.
“My lady!”
You look over your shoulder.
“Is it true? Are we saved?”
“I believe so.”
“And you are her, aren’t you? The hexer he hired.”
“I am.”
“I thank you, my lady. My wife and daughter will live because of you. Blessed be you in Vairë’s name.”
His gratitude baffles you. You take a step closer, reach out to shake his hand only to decide against it and turn to leave. His grateful smile does not falter as he waves and thanks you once again. It is honest.
The door to Namjoon’s cottage is open. A young woman is bent over a cauldron while Namjoon is throwing ingredients into it. She must be the apprentice he keeps mentioning. The last two months visibly gnawed at her. Despite her exhaustion however, an aura of immense resilience surrounds her. She is of Elvish decent, just like the rest of the village, but seems a lot younger than Namjoon. She must still be in the human age range.
You clear your throat. They look at you.
“You came. Eivør, this is ___ the hexer I told you about. ___ this is Eivør, my apprentice”, Namjoon says.
She bows deeply, “blessed be you in Vairë’s name, my lady.”
You nod your head in greeting, “good day to you too.”
She shifts her attention to the cauldron afterwards and you are glad that she does. You have never been received with such warmth and gratitude before. You do not know how to accept it.
And it continues. Once Namjoon finished the medicine and he asks you if you could help in handing it out to the people, your name is spoken in high regard and your future is blessed.
By the end of the day, when most of the village is sleeping peacefully, you feel exhausted by the sheer amount of gratitude you received.
You sit down on the ground with a loud grunt, stretching your legs. What a curious feeling it is to have your work appreciated.
“Is there still space for another?”
You glance at Namjoon. He draped a blanket over his own shoulders and wears fresh clothing. He also smells clean – flowers and honey. It is a pleasant scent.
“Go ahead. The ground’s all yours.”
He sits down with a content sigh, offering you a jug of mulled wine. You accept it.
“I have furniture to sit on, you know?”
“I prefer the ground.”
He chuckles, “suit yourself.”
You and he take a sip of the spiced beverage, looking out at the calm lake. It reflects the moonlight like a mirror, standing completely still almost as if it was finally calm now that the village was saved.
“What a day, am I right?” Namjoon breaks the silence.
“Mhm.”
“It still hasn’t sunk in for me. Not really at least. It feels as if I am finally starting to wake up from a bad dream.”
“I can imagine.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Tch, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I am not.” He hooks his pinkie with yours.
You look at it then his eyes. He is smiling, connecting his hand with yours when you don’t pull away. You don’t desire to break the connection. His touch is warm. It feels pleasant.
“Your name will forever be spoken in high regard here. You saved us”, he says, tracing your knuckles.
“I only did what I was paid to do”, you dismiss him and pull your hand away to fix your hair. Embarrassment is an uncomfortable emotion.
“Perhaps, but you are our saviour nonetheless.”
You say nothing to this. Because you do not know what to say. Gratitude to you means a customer which doesn’t attempt to talk his way out of paying, thanks comes in the form of the agreed amount of coin.
Words and gestures on top of enough coin are foreign to you and it is entirely too much to handle.
“What will you do now?” he asks you.
“I don’t know. Go to wherever I’m needed and kill a few monsters on the way.”
“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”
“What?”
“We have food and medicine and a house to spare. Over there, this one could be yours”, he says, pointing at the small cottage next to his’. It seems abandoned and has an empty vegetable garden in the back.
“Tch, sure.”
“I am serious. It isn’t much, but perhaps you could see it as part of your payment.”
“You shouldn’t speak hastily.”
“It doesn’t have to be forever. Only for a while. The village needs a protector, you can help out wherever you wish and it is going to be winter soon. Don’t you hexer rest during the winter?”
He saw right through you. You would have gone back north and probably spent it somewhere alone and secluded.
You study the small cottage again. You could have a view of the lake each night or sit by the front to catch Namjoon scurrying about. You could get warm by a fire at night and sleep in a proper bed. You wouldn’t have to freeze somewhere lonely.
You shift your eyes to Namjoon. He looks at you expectantly and full of fondness. How truly extraordinary it is that your paths crossed.
“Right”, you say, “perhaps spending it here wouldn’t be this bad.”
“Indeed. And it does not have to be forever. See it as your winter retreat if you wish to do so.”
You give him a smile, “I will see it as such.”
He meets your eyes, retorting your smile.
“Wonderful”, he says and takes your hand.
You get the feeling that you might not want to leave this village in spring and the very reason for it is currently making you smile.
