Home for Christmas
Synopsis: Christmas is everything he is not, and yet everything you care about.
Pairing: Namjoon/Reader
Smutty holiday fluff. Word count: 7,675
Author's note: After many years of reading, this is my first time posting Bangtan fic on Tumblr! I would appreciate any love or feedback. Thank you!
Namjoon hates Christmas.
He’s well aware that he’s become some kind of Scrooge and you like to call him The Grinch with all the affection in the world.
Namjoon likes his own space. He likes time to himself. His corner to read. His time exploring museums and quiet bookstores without the hustle and bustle of droves of people. And Christmas, it’s…well Christmas is everything he isn’t.
It’s about crowded malls full of people and children. Long lines. (He told you once that if he could, he’d do all the shopping online and he’ll never forget how your face soured. “It’s a part of the experience,” you insisted. Before launching into some talk about how seeing all of the lights and people lined up for Santa was just part of the season.)
Christmas is everything he is not, and yet everything you care about. You, with your red lipstick and infectious smile. The one that feels like it’s lodged itself into the corner of his chest. (If he’s gonna stick with the Grinch metaphor, then his heart is two sizes too small.) You and your stack of cookies piled high on his kitchen counters. The smell of sugar and frosting wafting through his house. The way you stay up late into the night baking. (Cooking and baking alone. He always leaves you alone. His chest aches at the thought, but he’ll get to that later -)
You with the holiday earrings that dangle against your face and hit the lights. Sometimes they get caught in your hair, so he has to smile and stop and untangle them from the strands, and you laugh and stand up on your toes and kiss him thanks. They come in so many different shapes - wreaths, holly, and mistletoe, and gingerbread houses and gingerbread men, even ones that light up.
You hang tinsel wherever you can. Balancing your feet on chairs to reach up and touch the tallest corners in your house. Sometimes he has to hold you by the waist, or you ask him to help and he obliges you. You’re cute like that, you could get him to do anything you need.
It’s you and the way you hang mistletoe over the corridor that joins your kitchen and living room together and the way you kiss him. Looping your fingers into the belt hoops on his pants and pulling him in for a kiss every morning. (Not this morning though. He remembers wrly-)
It’s you sitting on the floor of the living room by his feet, surrounded by roll on roll of wrapping paper as you wrap gifts for all of the important people in your life. The scent of the cinnamon and Christmas tree candles you light. The way the flames of the fireplace crackle in the distance between the two of you. The excited way you look at the presents under the tree, when he steals a glance at you over the corner of his book.
It’s you. Your generosity and the way you so eagerly offer your heart to the people you love. The way you light up a room. The red and gold ribbons on the presents you stay up hours wrapping. The smell of sugar and icing, or roast vegetables and chicken through the house when he gets home.The sweetness of your mouth against his, the taste of peppermint on your tongue when he kisses you. Even the giant ugly Christmas sweaters you buy, that seem to engulf your curvy frame. The way you always buy one for him to match- even if he so rarely obliges you and wears them. You’re the gift. You’re the season. He’s always adored that about you, why did he not make that more obvious sooner?
He slams the book in his lap shut, his eyes staring up at the Christmas tree you’d begged him to help you with. It went up right before the first of December, like clockwork. Just like every year. Except now, it’s Christmas Eve and you aren’t here to tenderly touch the Christmas ornaments or fix them in place. You’re not here to place a gift in his hand at midnight and crawl into his lap, insisting he opens something you’ve got him.
Namjoon’s hand pulls at the Christmas sweater on his large frame. He feels dumb. His phone feels heavy in his pocket. Should he text you? He itches to send you a photo of the sweater. Maybe you would crack a smile? Maybe you would come home? A quieter voice nags at his brain: Maybe you still want to be left alone.
Namjoon is hopeless. He finds himself turning on the Christmas lights on the tree and the ones on the porch, and everywhere you’ve put them up in the house and in the front yard.
One Christmas tree was never enough for you. He counted about three in the house, the last time he checked. But he finds another one still in its box, resting against a wall by your closet. It looks abandoned and sad, like it’s waiting for you to return too. He lets out a disgruntled noise as he hoists it over his shoulder and brings it downstairs. He’ll set it up next to the front door. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll come home and see it.
It doesn’t take him long to set it up, he shakes off some of the fake pine needles that cling to his sweater. He finds more ornaments, red bells and candy canes and little red balls. He’ll stick with a theme. You’d love a theme.
Then Namjoon moves to the living room. He even gets on a ladder to straighten the star on top of the tree, where it’s sat crooked for the rest of the month because you couldn’t reach high enough to fix it. He throws some wood into the fireplace so it crackles like you’re there to wrap presents at his feet. He lights the cinnamon candles and he touches the mistletoe on the wall, where he imagines how he’d kiss you sorry and kiss you thanks and leave you breathless.
He later finds a small stack of presents under the tree in your living room, he vaguely remembers you telling him that you meant to wrap them late and give them out after New Years when you come back to work after the holidays. He settles on the floor. He’s hunched over, crossing one long leg over another, as he gets to work wrapping each box. He’s able to secure each present is safely covered with colorful wrapping paper - and yet none of the expert packing expertise you have, so the corners aren’t folded as neatly as you would have done, but he keeps going. He finishes them off by tying some messy bows on top of each gift, before he realizes how hungry he is. Namjoon’s stomach grumbles in response as if to confirm his feelings. He wonders idly for a second, if you’ve already eaten and what you’re doing right now. Where would you have gone together tonight? What would you have made, had you decided to stay?
In the kitchen, his hands sneak into the Santa shaped cookie jar you left on the counter, always full with chocolate cookies. He makes a packet of ramen, the only thing he can salvage tonight, and a cup of hot cocoa. He grabs your favorite mug from the counter, a snowman figure wrapped in a red scarf that he’s positive looks like it’s laughing at him right now.
Through all of this, his phone continues to feel like a weight in his pocket as the night goes on. He misses you a lot. He misses you so much.
He doesn’t know where he wants to sleep tonight. The bed feels too empty without you. The red and black flannel sheets were your choice. The other rooms have Christmas tree print sheets and every room feels like it knows you’re missing too, knows that you have just vanished.
The only place he feels safe enough is the living room. God help him, he even scrolls through the TV and picks a channel with one of those 24 hour rotation of Christmas songs. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” blares over the speakers as Monie comes to sit at his feet, whining softly, like he misses you too.
“I know,” he tells him. “I know.”
The house is unsettling in its quiet. He decides to busy himself by making another batch of cocoa. The mug feels warm and heavy in his hand, the snowman is still laughing at him when he thinks back to the fight you had before you left-
“Which one do you want to wear to the Christmas party?” you’d asked him, holding up a hanger in each arm, one white sweater sitting on one and a black turtleneck sitting on the other.
“What for?” he replied, not really looking at you.
“My friends want to take photos.”
“Uhh I don’t really care,” he’d said. “You know this stuff is more you than me, baby.”
“Your sister said she likes the black turtleneck better. She said she might be able to drop by too!” you said excitedly.
“My sister?”
“I told you this morning, she said she might be in town.”
“Oh. It must have skipped my mind,” Namjoon had replied. He knows he can be forgetful, but he must have been so focused on getting to the studio that morning. He also remembers some messages from his family had gone unanswered and you’d replied to them before they could grow worried. You’re thoughtful like that.
“Actually, baby - there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you-”
“Tell me what?” Your voice hadn’t even lost its excitement over thinking about plans yet. Bless your heart.
“I actually might not be able to make it, baby. I have something to finish back at the studio-”
“You always have something to finish at the studio…”
“I know, baby. But-”
“But it’s Christmas,” you’d said simply. He should have ended it there. If he was being honest, he knew the songs could wait. But he was tired, stubborn-
“It doesn’t matter, baby. I’ve got work to do, if I lose the idea- it can’t wait.-” But you can? I expect you to? What had he meant by that? He still doesn’t know. He groans at the memory, sliding his hand over his face.
“Can it wait for just a few hours?” you sounded like you were begging him as you settled the clothes on your bed. “Julia’s coming, it’s her first time meeting you. I just want to get a few photos and have some food-” He could almost hear the “please” hanging off the end of your tongue.
“You’ll be fine without me,” he’d insisted.
“But I want you there.” Then, your voice sounding smaller - “ Joon. I don’t want to- please don’t make me go alone.”
“Baby- Try to understand-”
“I do,” you had said, voice beginning to sound cracked. “I always understand you. I always try to.”
“Then hear me out right now. Okay, listen? You’ll be fine. You could even spend the night with everyone! I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But-”
Ugh. He remembers now. You couldn’t get a word in because that was when he’d started talking over you - like an irritated parent trying to reprimand their child.
“We spent last Christmas together already, didn’t we? And the one before that. It’s just one. Day. Baby-”
“Not to me, it isn’t. Joon. Please-”
“This is so dumb, Y/N. Why are you wasting time? Why are we fighting about this? It’s one stupid day out of the whole damn year-”
He was careless, it was the wrong choice of words. He knew it the moment he let them slip and turned around to find you. The look on your face had made it hard to sleep that night. You looked so hurt.
“Baby, I-”
You shook your head and that was the worst part. You looked like a sad painting coming to life. The movement wrenched the water from your eyes, as you started to blink back a few tears.
“Baby,” he tried. “ Wait. I didn’t mean it like that-”
“No. You’re right. It’s stupid,” you said, sniffling as you repeated the same words he had just thrown at you. It made him feel cold, frozen in place. For a second, he couldn’t speak. “It’s stupid. It is. It’s one day of the year. I’ll tell your family- my friends- I’ll tell them- something-”
Even though it was his fault, you were still there trying to make up for him, to save face and make up for it and protect him. You’re an angel. The way you put up with his schedule and the way he can’t be there for you is a miracle in itself. Why did he not catch that?
“Come on baby. I’m sorry- I didn’t-”
“No,” you said, shaking your head. And you were crossing the distance of the room now, too fast for him to reach for you. Pulling on a coat. Reaching for your half packed luggage. “The thing is, we both know you’re not- Namjoon. And it’s fine.” You were blinking back tears as you said this. He remembers how your voice sounded when it cracked. “You hate it. It’s one stupid day out of the whole year. I understand how much your work means to you. I do. I always have. But it’s one - it’s just one stupid day- that means a lot to me. And I wish you could just be there. For me.”
The slamming of the door behind you felt like the final note. A few minutes later, Namjoon remembers Monie approaching the door, crying softly after you.
When Namjoon looks back at the mug, it’s empty. He rubs his thumb across the edge of its rim and stares up at the clock on the wall. It’s past midnight. Christmas.
He’s on the couch later, clutching a pillow to himself, his eyes almost drifting closed when the sound of -something- someone- crashing into the door makes him sit up-
“Shit!” you curse, as you stub the toe of your boot against the door, trying to drag your purse in after you.
“Baby?” Namjoon calls after you. “Y/N?”
When you don’t respond, he stands up and finds you trying to wrench your coat off. There are specs of snow melting in your hair. He glances at the clock again and it’s late. It’s late and yet, like some Christmas miracle, you’ve just come back to him.
He blinks, getting up from the couch, and for a brief second he catches the surprised look on your face, right before you try to paint over it with another emotion- something more passive and serious. Trying to gauge how you feel from across the room is hard, but he knows he caught you off guard. It’s obvious. You didn’t expect he would still be home-
He stands awkwardly to the side as he watches you place your knit hat and scarf down with your keys. When your eyes finally find him, he swallows hard. He towers over you regularly, but he feels small in your presence right now.
“I’m just here to get a few things. Julia said I could stay the night if I wanted,” you tell him, your words curt. He’s reminded of how you sounded right before you left him. “I’ll just grab them from the bathroom-”
Namjoon blearily stares at the spot you were just standing in front of him from. His brain and his eyes are unable to catch up with each other as he listens to the heel of your boots walking from room to room in the house. He watches in silence, feeling awkward as he stands up to get closer to the door. He’s afraid and unsure of what to say, swallowing hard - and running a nervous hand through his hair. On the floor, by the door he can see puddles of water where your boots were wet from the snow. He doesn’t want you to leave again but-
A second later, you’re standing behind him. He’s afraid to turn around, but he can feel you in the room before he even sees you. He hears your heavy sigh before you cross the first steps to walk past him towards the door, your overnight bag already slung over your shoulder.
But just as you’re about to reach a hand out for the doorknob, Monie runs past Namjoon- and straight to you.
“Monie?” you say, brightening as your dog rushes up to greet you. He immediately jumps up on his hind legs to say hi. And that’s when you notice what he’s got on - your fingers tracing his back in disbelief. “Monie, baby, what are you wearing?”
Namjoon watches as you touch the red sweater he wrestled him into earlier today so they could match.
You ruffle Monie’s fur and press your head against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. When you turn and look at Namjoon again, he can see your eyes are glistening a little.
“This was you?” you ask him, a soft smile catching on your lips.
Namjoon nods, taking one nervous step towards you.
“Here,” he stumbles over to reach for the bag on your shoulder, so he can set it down on the counter next to your purse. “If you want to just spend some time with him before you go. He’s missed you a lot-”
You hold Monie a little closer to your chest as Namjoon moves to the side so he can close the door after you. Your boots are still wet.
“Baby - hey,” he says softly, his voice sounds low and resigned, like he’s afraid you’ll turn away from him. “Come here. Let me help you-”
You watch in shock, growing a little teary eyed and choked up, as he gets on his knees to help unzip you out of your boots. You let Monie jump out of your arms, so you can balance your weight on Namjoon. Your hands are on his broad shoulders for leverage, your gaze moving past his frame when you finally see it.
“Joon?” His name hangs like a question on your tongue, your eyes wide as they take in the tree he put up, beautifully lit and facing the door, gleaming in red and white. You take a few steps from the door so you can look at it closer. Without turning to him, you blurt out loud- “You decorated?”
His hands find themselves stuffed into the pockets of his joggers as he crosses to where you’re standing. Namjoon feels small standing in front of you.
He wants to engulf you in his arms, he wants to touch you so bad. But he’s anxious and the uncertainty keeps his arms glued to his sides.
Namjoon’s big deep voice chuckles nervously. “I fixed the star. The one on the tree here in the other room- uh, too- You said it was crooked-”
“Baby?” you say, closing the last few inches of distance. He trembles as you touch his face, cupping his cheek. He’s afraid to meet your eyes. Your hands feel cold against his skin, your gloves dangling off your wrist. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you at the studio?”
“I couldn’t- I didn’t want to go. I know it meant a lot to you,” he says, finally meeting your eyes. “All of this. I know it means a lot to you. I couldn’t concentrate…” His voice is full of guilt as his face slumps in your hands. “I didn’t mean what I said, baby. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s not stupid. If something means a lot to you, it can’t be. If you care about it, then I care about it too because I love you.”
You’re silent for a second as you process what he just said.
“So you didn’t just make up some lie to get out of going to the party with me?” You laugh softly at the stricken look on Namjoon’s face, your thumb stroking across his jaw. “David - one of Julia’s friends- he said that’s what you were probably doing.”
“I- no. No. Baby - I wouldn’t lie to you-” the words come out of his mouth in a panicked rush.
You laugh softly again, your fingers moving to his cheek to tell him you understand. “I told him I didn’t think that was it.”
He shakes his head, his eyes full of some kind of heady combo of guilt and remorse.
“I was stupid - careless- I made a mistake when - I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry I did. It’s your favorite time of year,” he says in a softer voice. “All you were asking for was for me to be excited for you, to be there for you, just like you’re always there for me.”
He’s relieved to see you begin to smile, the edges of your mouth lifting up as he apologizes.
“You came back,” he says, voice full of relief, like this is a revelation he hasn’t gotten used to. He’s beaming between your hands as he smiles. The dimples in his cheeks seem to light his whole face up.
“Of course I did,” you say, like it was never a question. “I missed you. And besides, I was making everyone at the house miserable moping around about how much I wished you were there.” You stop to laugh, adopting a nagging tone to your voice as you roll your eyes and imitate yourself - “Namjoon would love this. Namjoon hasn’t seen this yet. Namjoon hasn’t tried this yet. If he was here-”
He has to laugh, relieved, as he drops his face to your shoulder. “I was miserable without you too, baby. Even Monie knew.” Like he knows he has a cue, your dog suddenly appears at your feet again, whining and begging to be pet. You kneel so you’re eye level with Monie and run your hands through his soft white fur and his red knit sweater, your fingers tracing over the little Christmas light design on his back. He yelps happily and bounces up to lick your cheek before you put him in the other room to sleep on his own little bed.
“Show me what else you did while I was gone,” you grin at Namjoon, as he takes your hand in his and tows you into the other room with his arms wrapped around your waist.
“I put up the rest of the ornaments and I turned on the lights. I made dinner,” he smiles, glancing at the ramen packets on the counter. You have to laugh. He’s so grateful you can cook. “I wrapped the rest of the presents. The ones you forgot, for your friends from work-”
“You what?” you say, laughing, squeezing his big hand where he’s clinging to you. He slides his arm around your waist to hug you tighter as you get closer to the tree. Sitting at the bottom are a few presents crookedly wrapped.
“Namjoon-” you say, taken aback by his effort. Your eyes feel glossy with the display of his sentiments. He tried, he really tried. And that’s all that you’ve ever wanted.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?” you say, your fingers pressed into his chest. Namjoon holds you close, both of his long arms tight around your waist and it’s just the two of you together for just a moment. His forehead sitting against yours, as the Christmas music flows around you. He’s so big, your man, you feel so safe with how tight he’s squeezing you. His heart is beating so rapidly beneath the palm of your hand as he gently sways you to the music.
“Can you kiss me?” he asks after a long moment, finally opening his eyes. It’s been days since he kissed you. He wants to touch you so much. His eyes rove up and your gaze follows so you can see where he moved some more mistletoe.
“Mistletoe?” you ask, smirking.
“Please?” he says, smiling as presses his face even closer to you.
You’re giggling as you reach for him, your fingers pulling at his sweater. He has to bend down a little to kiss you, but this is one of your favorite parts about him. It’s like a dance you both know so well. You lean your head up, just as his fingers find your hair and he pulls you close. His other hand catches your jaw, his long fingers cupping your face so you have to lean up to find his mouth.
His plush mouth presses against your own, locking your lips together. Kissing him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You’ll never get used to how soft his mouth is, how full his lips are. He tastes a little like the hot chocolate he had before you came home. And he smells exactly the same. Like his cologne and the cinnamon candle he lit in your absence. He feels like Christmas and home all wrapped in one, everything familiar and exciting all at the same time.
His gravelly voice is moaning into your mouth when you pull him closer, parting his full lips to kiss him deeper, rolling your tongue over his own until he feels like he’s melting into you. Your arms wrap around his neck. You’re overwhelmed with the need to feel him on top of you, his weight against every inch of your skin.
“Namjoon-” you moan when you can finally wrench your mouth away from him. But he doesn’t let you go as easily, his long fingers clutching your hair between his fingers. One of his hands clutches your waist, pressing you more firmly against the solidness of his body. His soft lips simply move down to mouth down your throat. He can’t get enough of you. He’s just missed the way you smell, the way you taste.
“You even put on the sweater I got you-” you laugh with realization, hands clenching the end of the sweater so you can slip your fingers underneath the hem of it and touch the firm, warm skin of his tan stomach.
He laughs too, loud and throaty, cupping your face as he kisses your cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, baby,” he says, his voice low, warm breath tickling your ear. “My heart’s two sizes too small, but it’s all for you.”
You have to laugh as his mouth meets yours again and this time it’s his tongue slipping into your mouth. He shivers as your nails scrape down his belly.
“I missed you,” you tell him, and the honesty in your voice could break his heart. It’s enough for him to pull away so he can stare into your eyes. You seem to hold all of the love and warmth in the world for him there. It never fails to make his heart feel full. He needs you so much.
“I missed you too, baby. Want to know how much?”
You nod, kissing him. “Show me,” you whimper. “Touch me-”
It’s soft and slow then, Namjoon’s long fingers peeling you out of every piece of clothing. Unwrapping you like a gift. Kissing your legs as he zips you out of your jeans and peels you out of your turtleneck. When he reaches your panties, he rubs you through the fabric until his fingertips feel wet, then he licks you through the cotton like he can’t help himself, before pushing them down to your ankles.
Namjoon takes his time taking you apart, first with his fingers and then his mouth, until both his hands and face are glossy with how much you need him and you’re begging him- fingers wound tight around his jet black hair as he eats you out. His temple stings with just enough pain and he loves it.
His big, soft lips were made for this. Firm enough that you can grind against his mouth, and plush enough that you feel like you can meld with him. He alternates between flicks and swirls against your clit and deep licks inside your cunt, where he stiffens his tongue enough so he can fill your wet, aching hole with it before sliding back up to suck gently at your clit. You can feel how wet you are, his spit and your wetness combined, dripping between your thighs and onto his fingers like nectar. You can hear it too, and that coupled with the noises Namjoon is making - the little gasps and moans he makes as he sucks and licks is too much. When he brings his fingers into the mix, it’s over for you. The sensation on your sensitive clit, while his fingers - three of them - you gasp- fill you is too much and you’re cumming-
“Oh my god - Namjoon-“
When you look down at him from between your legs, the image is obscene. His tongue laving at your pussy, his big, soft lips wrapped around your clit as he sucks, his long fingers buried deep inside of you, curving towards that tender part of you that has you screaming.
“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Namjoon moans. His voice muffled with how deep he presses his face into your wetness. You grind against him just as hard as your orgasm takes you in waves. “Please baby- Let me taste your pussy.”
Your chest is heaving as Namjoon reaches up to squeeze you between his hands, like he’s trying to prove to himself that you’re really here, groping your breasts and pinching one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He only stops when your fingers release their tight hold on his hair. He gives your swollen clit one more gentle suck between his plump lips, feels the way you shiver as he slides his fingers from your soaked pussy and he finally, reluctantly pulls away to crawl up your body. He only stops to get his sweater over his head before he’s back on top of you.
“Namjoon,” you cry, fingers trembling as you reach for him. “I need you. I missed you
so much. Baby please-
“I love you,” he whimpers into your mouth. Tongue so deep in your mouth that you can taste yourself on him. “I need you too baby-”
“I need your cock,” you beg. “Namjoon, I want you inside- please. Please fill me up. God, please-” You sound so desperate, he finds it so cute, the way you beg for his cock, like you’re begging him to come home.
“I’ll give it to you, baby. You have me,” he says. “Fuck. I’m so hard Y/N- I get this hard just eating your pussy, baby.” - he groans, jaw clenched, breath panting against your face. You know he’s cum untouched more than once in the past, just from eating you out.
“Take it out, baby. Please. Let me see it.”
Now it’s your turn to tease. You run your red nails along Namjoon’s stomach, loving watching his body tense as you drag them across his honey skin.
Namjoon hooks his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, sliding them down enough to take his cock out. He locks eyes with you once, his beautiful eyes slipping closed only after, when he starts to touch himself.
You smirk when he reveals that he’s not wearing underwear underneath his clothes, something he rarely does unless you’re both home and alone. And his cock is already hard, just like he said. So swollen, you feel like it must hurt him- the way his erection is hanging towards his stomach.
He looks so gorgeous from this angle. His hair is falling in front of his face. And his thick, muscular thighs are framing his beautiful swollen cock. There’s so much precum already dripping from the tip. You almost want to stop and take him between your lips, you’re dying to lick at the underside of his cock, but decide that you want him hard and inside of you more instead.
When you lean forward to touch him, Namjoon twitches. He moans just feeling your hands on his thighs, your breath against his cock. He can’t help but pull your hair, he knows you like it - as you make your hand into a fist.
He lets you touch him. It’s only been days, but it drives him crazy, feeling your hands on his skin. And when he grabs the back of your neck and tilts your head up, he kisses you like he has something to prove.
You love feeling the heaviness of his cock in your hand. Namjoon moans into your mouth when he looks down to see the way you’re grasping him, hips pushing his cock further into your hand. His own hands are massive, but his cock is so devastatingly thick and long, that it always manages to still look big in his hands. And in your hands- well he won’t hide how turned on he is by how small your fingers look wrapped around him, and always so soft. One of your hands continues stroking him while the other reaches further back to fondle his balls, heavy with so much cum for you.
“Fuck Y/N-” he gasps into your mouth, mumbling curses against your lips. His knuckles are almost white as he urges you to lay down. “Come here-”
Namjoon moves closer to hover over you, one hand dragging one of your legs over one of his broad shoulders. He leaves kisses against your ankle and calves as he stretches you out. You feel more wetness leaking from your cunt, so turned on by how he’s able to lift you and get you into exactly the position he wants.
One hand moves under to support your ass, trying to angle you up to take his cock and the other hand is spreading you wide. The warmth from the fireplace feels like it is licking at your skin. Namjoon’s long fingers swirl around your clit, drawing more wet, sweetness from your cunt as he moves.
Your breath hitches as he slides just the tip of his cock in, getting himself wet with you. He likes taking his time like this, getting every inch of himself wet with you. He can feel it, feel you, from the tip of his cock, all the way down to where you continue to drip, soaking his balls with it.
“Baby, please- Namjoon-” your voice sounds pained, every time he retreats, his hard cock just dragging, dipping shallowly inside of you before leaving again. “Don’t tease- please. Not tonight- I came home for you.”
He kisses you to soothe you. His full lips are so soft, it feels sinful. Your desperation seems to grow, you can’t help but clench your teeth - the drag of just the head of his cock against your clit makes your nipples hard, as he teases you again and again.
“Oh fuck. You’re so wet,” Namjoon groans when he finally slides all the way inside of you.
“Namjoon-” the stretch of him leaves you speechless. His cock just feels so good pushing into your body.
You feel so exposed, spread apart like this. Namjoon’s fat cock is splitting you open, with your legs spread, open so wide. But it’s the way Namjoon looks at you that makes you feel the most exposed. The precise, serious look on his face. The way he gauges every breath, every twitch of your skin pressed against his. Sweat is glistening down the long column of his neck, down his chest and stomach. The little whimpers he lets out as he coaxes you closer and closer to cumming on his cock.
“Your pussy was made for me Y/N-” he tells you. His eyes roll back as he says it. His fingers dip down to slide across the lips of your wet cunt. You look so beautiful spread open and so slick, dripping for him. “Just like I was made for you. My cock- made for fucking you.”
“Y-yes. Belongs to me. Just like I belong with you - to you. Joon-”
“Shit- You love hearing that?” he teases you, his deep voice miraculously dropping even lower as he laughs quietly. You shiver hearing the change in his tone, intertwining with the wet sound of your fucking as Namjoon keeps going.
“Yes,-” you cry out, nails clenching the pillow behind you. “You’re so big, Namjoon. Hard- Fuck me so good-”
The pit in your stomach feels like it’s tightening as you listen to Namjoon talk to you- “Fuck yes. I know you do. You’re home now, baby. Where you belong. Geting fucked by my cock- like you deserve. I’m so deep baby, tell me how good it feels-”
“I’m close-Don’t stop-” you warn him, sounding utterly broken. Your spine arches back against the couch, pushing more of your body towards his mouth. He has to wrench his lips away from where they were wrapped around your hard nipple. It aches when he pulls away.
“I know, baby. I won’t stop,” he promises. “I can feel it. Fuck-” he grunts, his deep voice filling your ear. His lips kissing your face. You turn your face in his palm when he cups your cheek, fingers wrapped around the side of your throat like he owns you. You press your fingers around his wrist, wordlessly reassuring him, telling him to go harder. The way you trust him implicitly never fails to amaze him. He’s so gone, so completely in awe of you - he swears it makes his dick even harder-
You whimper when you clench around him, walls tight around the girth of his cock. The heaviness of him inside you seems to fill a deep, deep ache. It’s no wonder you always feel empty without him. Your nails dig into his forearms as he continues pounding into you, pushing you deeper into the cushions behind you.
“You’re gripping my cock, baby,” he moans. “Squeezing around me so tight- fuck. Give it to me. I missed you so much, baby. I missed touching you. I missed kissing you all over. I missed you cumming on me.”
Your hands slide down to touch yourself as you grab both your breasts, feeling the heaviness and pinching your nipples as he fucks you. Namjoon’s jaw falls open, the sight alone makes him cry out. You’re so fucking hot and he’s missed you so much. Missed being around you, inside of you. Fuck.
It’s when your fingers reach between you that he almost loses it. Watching your fingers swirl around your clit- fingers bumping against the base of his shaft every time he slides out of you. His cock comes out pearly and glistening with your juices every time he slides out. The friction of your hand pressing against your clit and the feel of him filling you to the brim with his cock is about to send you spiraling.
“Fuck. Yeah, baby. Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself for me. Help me make you cum. I want you to cum on my cock, can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yes-”
He smiles. “Look at me, baby. Yes you can. Did so well. Always take me so good. You came home like a good girl. You look so beautiful taking every inch of me- and now you’re gonna cum so hard, you’re gonna get me wet with it, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes! Namjoon! Don’t stop-don’t stop-please-”
“I know. I can feel it. Cum. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, baby. I’m here for you. I’m here-“
It hits you hard, makes you feel like your body was struck. You feel breathless, weightless.
“That’s it baby, that’s it,” Namjoon coaxes as you cum, clenching and spasming around his cock so tight. He keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm. His hands press you more solidly against him when you try to squirm. He wants you to take everything you need from him. “Keep going-”
When you come back down, your thighs are still shaking when you reach for him. He lets your legs down to fall around his waist. Your hands slide down to touch more of him, nails digging into his skin, grabbing handfuls of his ass to shove him in deeper, feel him closer.
“Cum,” you moan into his mouth. You grasp his face so he’s looking into your eyes when you say it and he starts moving again. “Please Namjoon. Cum-”
You clench your teeth, grinding up against him as he starts to do exactly like you told him, and he starts fucking you through the last remains of your orgasm, just as you feel like he’s going to send you teetering through another one so soon-
“Oh fuck-baby,” he gasps. “Yes. Yes. Take it-all”
He can still feel your walls fluttering around his cock and it feels incredible. Tight and so wet. You’ve been stretched out enough by his fingers and his dick that you can take him harder, his pelvis slamming into you as he keeps thrusting.
His deep voice is rendered almost speechless, as he whimpers into your neck, “It feels so fucking good baby-” And he means it. Your pussy, your hands clinging to his back - slick with sweat, your breath and voice in his ear telling him how much you want - no, need his cum inside you.
You feel it when he swells and then spills - “Fuck baby-” he grunts into your ear, breath panting against your face as he chases his high.
Your hands feel so small against his skin as he keeps thrusting. Your fingers still tight around his waist and his ass as you clench around his cock, trying to milk the last drops of his cum. It goes on for so long, that his body shudders against yours, cock twitching inside of you.
“Fuck, baby, there’s so much-“ Namjoon groans through clenched teeth when he looks down, staring at your pussy, puffy and swollen where his cock is already pushing more of his cum and your juices out.
“Feels so good,” you whine, continuing to roll your hips as he fucks you through it, until it becomes too much. “Feel so full.”
“You’re so messy baby.” There’s a smile in his voice as he teases you. “So fucking full of my cum. You want it?”
God, this man. “Mmmhmm. Every drop belongs to me-”
Namjoon groans. He’s a man of many words, but you’re the one person in the world that can render him speechless with just a few. “Fuck. I love you Y/N.” He drops his face into your neck, grinning.
You can still feel Namjoon, still half hard inside of you. But he doesn’t move to pull out just yet, instead winding his arms tighter around you.
“I’ll clean us up,” he says. “I promise. I just want to hold you for a sec.” He’s not ashamed to admit he’s missed feeling close to you.
You look so beautiful beneath him like this. The Christmas lights flashing against your naked skin. You're still trembling a little as you catch your breath. Your hands, red nails framing your face. Sweat glistening on your skin. Your hair is wet from the melting snow and sweat.
He touches his thumb against your bottom lip and you smile, kissing his fingers, your eyes still closed. His mouth finds yours, as he kisses you and kisses you. They’re the softest lips you’ve ever tasted.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” And you have to open your eyes and lift your head up to look at him to truly capture the enthusiasm in his voice. He looks happy. Like the Christmas spirit perfectly captured in the warmth of his smiling, dimpled face. “I love you,” he says.”Thank you for coming home.”
“I love you too.”
“I want to come over for photos,” he says after a moment, while you trace his face, absentmindedly brushing his black hair with your fingers. “I want to come over and have Christmas dinner and see everyone and go look at lights.”
Your gaze softens as you stare at him, slowly comprehending what he is telling you.
“I want to go to the studio with you,” you say quietly.
“Baby- No- It’s your favorite day of the year-”
“It is,” you tell him. “We’ll do photos and presents. We’ll eat. And we can also take dessert back with us. We can come back to your studio for a little while after. We can look at some lights on the way home. I want to see you- I want to be alone with you and make up for the last few days, Namjoon. I shouldn’t have ran off-”
“You did the right thing,” he says softly. “We needed time to cool off and I needed to give you space. I needed to realize I was being an asshole and not understanding you.”
“It’s not a big deal-“
And Namjoon shakes his head as you try to deflect. “Don’t do that. Don’t say that. It is, baby. If it’s important to you, it’s a big deal. And it should be important to me too. I don’t want to miss important days because of work. It will always be there when I get back. But you-“
“Namjoon-“
“You’ve always been more understanding than I deserve. I want to celebrate with you” He’s lost in his own silence for a little before he speaks again. “Let’s call it a truce?” he says.
“A compromise,” you tell him simply. And his smile is so big, his dimples so deep, you can’t help giggling when you reach up halfway to kiss him again.
“Dinner. Photos. Presents,” he says.
“Mmm hmm,” you reply around his full lips. You’ll really never get enough of kissing him. “Studio. Dessert. Lights. Then I’m taking you home.”
“I love you,” he tells you again, kissing you deeply.
“I love you too, Joonie,” you say. You smile as he holds you closer, tighter. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
_
Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas. I hope you have a good holiday wherever you are.
Please like and reblog if you enjoyed what you read. You can also find me @kissesinthekitchen on AO3!
