Summary: Thunder and Lightning, very, very frightening, well, that statement has never been truer than now. Sat in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of a storm, alone. It’s the worst decision you’ve ever made, why didn’t you just go to that spa as a Christmas treat? Why did you come here? And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse there’s a banging at the door. Pretty sure it’s a murderer, you stupidly see who’s there only to be met with a dimple filled smile, and a very large, very damp man. Well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
Pairing: Namjoon x reader
Genre: Pwp; smut; fluff; Christmas fic!
Word count: 10.3k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, nipple play, oral (f receiving), protected sex, soft dom Namjoon, multiple orgasms, aftercare, basically a one-night stand, there's a storm and reader gets nervous about it.
BCCxFI advent calendar prompts: Hot chocolate & aftercare.
Authors Note: The first Christmas fic and it’s the first because it’s only very loosely Christmassy. I also apologise for the slightly cringe title, and the length (10.3k for pwp? If you squint there is a plot, but not much). Anyway, as I said, this is my first Christmas fic that I’m posting this year. Inspired by the above prompts from the Christmas advent calendar from BCC. Go read all the other amazing authors works too, I’ll be trying to read as many as I can and reblogging them on here and on my fic rec’s page. Happy reading!!
You jump at the bang of thunder and mere seconds after a flash of lightning. The storm’s getting closer. Rain lashing against the windows, contradicting the noise of the warm fire crackling in front of you. The power cut out hours ago, and though the generator kicked in, you lit up as many candles as you could find, determined to not be left in the dark if the power goes out again.
Why had you thought it would be a good idea to rent a cabin in the middle of the woods? Never mind renting it alone. At Christmas of all times. If it was snow falling against the windows it would be picturesque, especially with the Christmas tree in the corner, but the rain and storm makes everything eerie. Why hadn’t you thought that of course your bad luck would mean there would be a storm while you’re here? You should have gone for that spa retreat, or even that hotel in the middle of the city; you’d take anything over this right now.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact you are in the middle of the forest, miles from any civilisation; a fact the website boasted and had seemed like a good thing until now. Wrapped tightly in a blanket, candles lit, you can only stare at the crackling fire, and try not to jump every time the thunder bangs overhead. Again, the lack of Wi-Fi and TV seemed like a good thing before, you’d just crack open a book, you’d thought, but you’d given up your book as soon as the thunder started shaking the cabin. You’re not normally scared of storms, it’s just in this darkened room, surrounded by trees that will surely fall any second, the cabin shaking with every bang of thunder; you can’t help but feel jumpy.
Still, you try to put details of every horror film you have ever seen to the back of your mind, try not to imagine how this would be cinematic gold. Try not to think that all that needs to happen now is for your phone battery to die, the power needs to cut out completely, and a knock needs to sound at the door, a killer stood waiting for you.
Yep, all totally unhelpful thoughts.
There’s another flash of light, the trees outside the windows are illuminated in a stark white. Then, before the trees even disappear into darkness a loud bang of thunder sounds out.
You pull your knees tighter to your chest, wrap the blanket more securely around you, as if either will help protect you. But this doesn’t feel safe. Your small getaway from your crazy, stressful life, and yet you feel like you’ve just ended up in a worse situation. This is supposed to be relaxing, yet you don’t feel relaxed in the slightest.
You’re starting to wonder if you’ll even be able to sleep tonight when a loud knock sounds on your door.
“Fuck,” you mumble, as you jump higher out the chair than when the thunder sounded. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss thoughts of a horror happening to you. Maybe, rather than dismiss the thoughts, you should have thought up ideas of how to get rid of a mass serial killer if they came knocking like they currently are.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Loud, more urgent knocks sound at your door, each more terrifying than any of the crashes of thunder you’ve heard tonight. Whoever they are, they’re not deterred by you not answering straight away.
You turn in your seat, head looking over your shoulder so you can try and better see who’s there. It’s not as if you expect to see the outline of a man with an axe in his hand, but you at least expect something more than the complete blackness you see. No indication of who is there, apart from their continual knocking.
You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves as you push your feet to the floor. You have none of the urgency that the person at the door has, instead shuffle your feet in the right direction, drawing out the inevitable.
The cold hits you like a wall when you pull open the door, some of the rain flies into your face even with the wooden awning above the door. But what’s most surprising is that you’re not met with a face, but more a chest. Your hand still on the handle, your draw back a step as you crane your neck to look at the giant of a man. Still, you don’t get much of a better view. His black raincoat is pulled tightly over his head, the little light not helping to get a good look at his features.
“Sorry, I just saw the light and hoped someone was home,” his voice is softer than his size would suggest, and the words come out in a rush, showing his nerves; you wondered if he practiced what he was going to say before you opened the door to him. “I’m a bit lost, and my phone’s died, and I’m not from around here; just staying in a hotel in Fort William. I don’t know if you could point me in the right direction or if you have a phone I could borrow or if you know somewhere close by I could stay for a bit? Maybe just until the storm passes?”
Your earlier fears seem to dissipate with every word that comes out of his mouth. His size is the only thing that fits with the imagine you had drawn in your mind, but everything else is completely opposite. His stuttering voice, and nervously twitching fingers. And as your eyes adjust to the dark outside you start to see how even though he’s wearing a rain coat it’s completely soaked through and his body is shivering with cold. Either this man is doing a good job at convincing you, luring you into a false sense of security, or he is definitely not a serial killer.
“Fort William is the other side of the mountain; you’ve come down the wrong way. And I’m afraid the next closest sign of civilisation is a few miles away.”
The man seems to sag with each word you tell him, and your heart pangs for him a little more. It’s no surprise when you step further away from him, opening the door wider so that there is a space big enough for him to walk past you, but through the dark you can clearly see the shock on his face.
“You should come in and get dry,” you say as if to make clear your thoughts.
He hesitates, and you wonder if he’s now considering that you may be a serial killer. You wouldn’t blame him, you had just been thinking the same about him. But it’s only a moments hesitation, and then he’s stepping past you. All six feet of him.
You close the door, almost instantly heating from the lack of wind and rain. Turning, you catch the man taking his coat off, watch as he holds it dripping in his hand, looking around for a place to put it.
“Here,” you hold out your hand and his head whips to you as if he’d already forgotten about you.
You take the coat he holds out to you, hang it on the back of a chair and then turn to look at him again.
He seems to take up the whole room, you hadn’t thought the space was small until now. Even though he was wearing a raincoat, it didn’t seem to stop the rain from getting to his top, the material sticking to the broad, solid planes of his body. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat as your eyes rake over his defined body. The man clearly works out, the hike up the mountain was probably a walk in the park for him.
You move your eyes upwards, glad when you see that his eyes aren’t on you. He hasn’t caught you staring at least. Your cheeks heat nonetheless.
But even if you are no longer looking at his toned body, the sight which you are met with isn’t much better. His short blonde hair sticking at odd angles makes him look boyish, but the way he runs his hand through it twists your insides. His face seems to have been sculptured by the same gods that sculptured his body. Dimples making him look innocent, wide dark eyes drinking everything in, his nose smooth and perfectly formed.
He may not be a serial killer, but the effect he is having on your insides by just standing there might kill you anyway.
“Do you want a shower?”
The words slip out of your mouth of their own free will, and you only realise what you’ve asked when the mans gaze falls on you. You stutter, body becoming stiff and your eyes dart around the room.
“I mean, on your own, of course. I mean you probably assumed that. But in case it wasn’t clear, I was just asking if you’d like to use the shower. It will probably help warm you up. And I’m sure I can try and get you some dry clothes.”
You should shut up, should probably have never opened your mouth in the first place, and the smirk that is clear on the mans face only makes you stutter more. He thinks you’re a moron, you think you’re a moron. You should just turn around now and walk out this cabin, it will definitely be less embarrassing than what you’re currently experiencing.
“A shower sounds good,” he says smoothly, amusement clear in his tone.
You’d smile back, but there’s a flash of light and you tense in anticipation for the bang. The amusement in his eyes seems to dim for a second as you jump. You felt embarrassed by how scared of the storm you are when you were alone, but now, with witnesses, you feel like a child.
“Ok?” You try to ignore the fact you just jumped at a crash of thunder, though it comes out more as a question than statement.
The smile widens on his face as you continue to stand in silence. It takes you way too long to realise that you should be showing him the way to the shower, should be giving him a towel, should be finding those proffered dry clothes.
You heat under his smile, face feeling like it’s on fire, the coldness from the storm completely gone.
“It’s just through there,” you point lamely in the direction of the bedroom where the only bathroom is.
His gaze follows where you point, but he doesn’t move, just stands looking. It’s you that first springs into action, though you move slowly, feet shuffling on the floor as you edge around the opposite end of the sofa to the man. You hear rather than see him follow you and try to ignore the desire to glance behind you.
The bedroom isn’t big, enough to fit a double bed and wardrobe in, and the bathroom is even smaller. It’s a thought you have as you come to a stop by the bathroom door, you would have just stepped in, but looking at it now you know there won’t be enough room for the two of you unless you want to stand chest to chest with him. The thought causes you to shuffle nervously, as if this man is capable of hearing your thoughts.
“There are clean towels in the cupboard,” you say, eyes trained on the bathroom, not wanting to see if the cocky, knowing smile is still on the mans face. “I’ll have a look for some dry clothes while you’re in there.”
“Thanks,” he says, finally gaining your attention.
The wide smile remains on his face, his dimples cutting deep into his cheeks. You both stare at each other for a beat or two, before you realise and look away. You don’t miss the light chuckle that leaves his lips.
“I’m Namjoon by the way,” again, your attention is drawn back to him. “We kind of skipped the introductions back there.”
“Oh, yeah,” you stumble, suddenly realising you both still have no idea who each other is. “I’m Y/N.”
“Well Y/N, thank you for the tour. I won’t be long.”
He flashes you one last devastating smile before slipping past you into the bathroom. He closes the door before you can even mumble a no problem, instead you whisper it to the door.
You stand there, looking at the door, way longer than you’d want to admit, before you finally walk away. You try to find some sort of clothing that will fit his body, which is hard. You’d only packed a small bag for the few days you’re here and there were no lingering items in the closets. You managed to scrape together some large jogging bottoms and a large top you normally wear to bed. It feels weirdly intimate to leave the small pile outside the bathroom door, and then even more weird going to sit by the fire, just like before, but this time you’re sat waiting for someone.
You can hear the noise of the shower on top of the rain lashing against the window. You still jump every time there’s a rumble of thunder, but you feel more relaxed now you know someone else is occupying the same space as you.
Though, maybe you shouldn’t feel relaxed. He could still be a serial killer. You still don’t know who he is. He may have just wormed his way in here. This could have been his plan all along, and you’ve fallen hook line and sinker.
You’re being silly. If he was going to kill you, he would have done it now. Who has a shower pre killing someone?
The water in the shower stops. You can hear the shower door opening, can hear him stepping out and so obviously picking up the towel to dry himself. It feels way too intimate, sat here listening to a man who is naked in the room next to you and who you don’t know. You try to not imagine that body without any clothes. Try to not imagine the beads of water running down his body. But it’s hard. So very hard, when all you have to look at is the fire in front of you.
You try to not to listen as the bathroom door opens and you hear him picking up your clothes. You’re so focused on trying to ignore the man that you don’t notice when he comes to stand in the doorway.
He clears his throat, dragging your eyes from the fire you look at him.
Your mouth nearly pops open. He’s stood, leaning against the door frame, looking at you as if nothing is abnormal. But he has obviously forgotten that he hasn’t put a top on.
Your eyes rake up and down his chest. Moisture still clings to his skin. The low light of the room only casts greater shadows on every damn ab on his body. It feels like he’s shoving his smooth, tanned skin in your face even though he stands unmoved meters away from you. It feels like the best TV show you’ve ever seen. You can’t look away.
But you do, because you have to, because you don’t know this man. When Namjoon clears his throat again, you heat, and look back at his face.
Amusement dances in his eyes, his lips are pulled back into a big enough smile that dimples form in both cheeks. He caught you watching and he is pleased enough to give you a long, undisturbed view. You hate him, but also love him for it.
“The top didn’t fit,” he holds the offending item up in his hand.
Of course it didn’t fit, you think, you’re built like the hulk, what would fit you?
“I’m not sure I have much else,” you say instead. “My coat? Possibly a hoody, but I doubt it’s bigger than that top. Maybe a blanket you can drape over your shoulders?” Literally anything, you think.
You feel like you’re pleading with him. As if begging him to take the damn blanket, that you can’t keep your eyes off his chest for much longer.
But your pleading eyes clearly aren’t obvious enough for him at such a distance. He shrugs, turns to place your top back in the bedroom before making his way over to you.
“It’s warm enough in here, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He has to be joking. Not about the heat, you suppose it is hot in here, but he can’t really be expecting to sit next to you like that? It may be fine for him, but it won’t be fine for you.
As if to spite of you, or perhaps because he’s enjoying the attention so much, he sits in the empty spot next to you. You move, push yourself as far away from him as possible, and still it doesn’t feel far enough.
“Well, let’s at least hang your top up somewhere so it has a chance to dry,” you leap to your feet mere seconds after he’s sat down. “And maybe a hot drink? Coffee? Tea? Help you keep warm? Are you sure I can’t tempt you with that blanket?”
You’re threating, fumbling around the room as you move to get the damp clothes he’s dumped in a pile on the floor. Pull a chair over so you can hang the top as close to the fire as possible, spread it out so that the heat can get to every inch to dry as quickly as possible. As soon as that’s done, you move to the small kitchen, no more than a few cupboards and a hob and kettle.
No TV, you can feel Namjoon’s eyes following you. You avoid looking at him at all costs.
“You really don’t have to do any of this. The heat and shelter already feels like too much.”
You hum as you pour water into the kettle press down to turn in on and then finally face Namjoon. There’s another flash of lightning and you still jump with the clash of thunder, still embarrass yourself in front of this beautiful man.
“So tea or coffee?” You attempt to gain some sort of composure back.
“Got any hot chocolate?”
“Uh, sure they should have something here.”
You twist away from him, open the cupboard where you found the tea and coffee earlier, start to move things aside to look for hot chocolate.
“Is this not your place then?”
You laugh lightly before twisting your head enough to talk over your shoulder while still looking through the cupboard. “It’s supposed to be a holiday, if you can believe that.”
“At Christmas? Not home with family?”
“No. I will be on the day, but I hate being alone at home in the run up so always try and get away,” you say. “And what about you? Lost on a mountain, I’m assuming you’re also away?”
“Ah, well, I am with family. I just decided to walk today, and no one else wanted to come, so I went alone. I can kind of see why no one else wanted to come now though.”
You chuckle before seeing a purple tub near the back of the cupboard. You stretch onto your tiptoes, reach so that the tips of your fingers just about grasp the rim. You have to wiggle, but you manage to get it and as you pull it closer you realise your suspicions were right, it’s hot chocolate.
Beaming, you twist with the hot chocolate in your grasp as if it’s a trophy, lifting it proudly to show Namjoon. You don’t miss the way that Namjoon’s eyes flick quickly from your ass up to your face, his cheeks dusting pink when he realises he’s been caught in the act. You heat too, the smile on your face dropping and your eyes unable to meet Namjoons. You’ve literally just been wiggling your ass in Namjoons face and he’s clearly not been holding back on taking in the view.
“Found some,” you say with a lot less enthusiasm than before.
The kettle pops and you twirl back to look at it, now completely aware of your back to him and having no idea where his eyes are. It’s not like you’re wearing anything revealing, in fact, in this storm, it’s almost the complete opposite. You’re also no longer wiggling your ass is his face, yet you’re still awkward as you pour out your drinks.
It all feels too quick, this task that you had hoped would keep you at a safe distance from the shirt-less man and now it’s done. You stir the liquid in the mugs for too long in an attempt to come up with some way out of having to sit back down next to him.
“I’ll have a look for marshmallows,” you mumble into the quite room as you go back to looking through the cupboards.
This time you try not to wiggle your ass. Bend down to the lower cupboards to look through those first, move aside the few tins you find there and as if luck would have it there’s a small bag of marshmallows.
“We’re really getting lucky tonight,” you say as you stand back up and look at the small print on the wrapping. You’re only vaguely aware of Namjoon letting out a deep hum as if in agreement. “Let’s just hope they’re not a year out of date.”
“They’re still white, so that’s a good sign,” Namjoon teases.
You scrunch your face in disgust and then find what you’re looking for.
“We still have a year on them,” you say before plopping a few in each mug.
You’ve reached the inevitable. You can’t put it off any longer. Picking up the mugs you turn to Namjoon with what you hope is a neutral smile, no indication of how your heart is pounding inside your chest. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, but then you also know you can hardly look him in the eye with his chest out for all to see.
He looks unbothered as you slowly walk towards him, his eyes watching every step you take until you’re stood before him. He holds out a hand to take the mug off you and just as his hand encompasses it there’s another flash of lightning. You tense, Namjoon chuckles as his other hand quickly reaches out for the second mug, by the time the thunder rumbles and you jump Namjoon has the mugs safely in his grasp.
“You’re really scared of the storm, hey?”
You take your mug back off him as you heat and focus on sitting next to him while also leaving a reasonable gap between the two of you. Your silence seems evidence enough, though with the way you’ve been jumping around the cabin all night you doubt he was expecting one anyway.
“I was going to thank you and also apologise for crashing in on your holiday, but maybe you actually need someone here to help calm you down?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you can’t look at him to see if it’s in his face too.
You don’t answer, just wrap your hot chocolate into your hands and take a small sip. It’s still scolding hot, but you swallow the liquid down. You feel tense, from the storm and because of the man next to you.
“It’s kind of romantic in here, with all the candles.”
You shoot him a questioning look, is he trying to suggest something? But he looks like he has no idea how his words could be interpreted. Just sits happily sipping his hot chocolate, eyes wide as they take in the room.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to risk being left in the dark if the power went out.”
He huffs a small laugh as if the fact doesn’t surprise him.
“Come on, even you’d be scared if you were left in here in the pitch black.”
“I don’t know, the lightning really helps light things up,” he beams at you while you just roll your eyes. “I’m joking. It is kind of creepy.”
“Thanks,” you huff the word out before taking a sip of your drink.
“You have, uh, a bit of,” he points his finger at his own lip, indicating something that’s clearly on your own.
You heat, turn away from him as you wipe a hand across your mouth. Looking back at him you still feel hot and awkward.
“Is it gone?” You ask.
“Uh,” he pauses, and then as if he’s decided it’s ok, he reaches a hand out and runs his thumb along the corner of your lip.
You heat even more, eyes widen. Seriously, what is this man doing to you?
His finger lingers, his eyes boring into yours. It’s intense, and yet neither of you break the gaze, Namjoon’s finger lingering longer than necessary.
“Got it,” he whispers, his hand dropping, spell breaking.
You both look at the fire, continue to sip at your hot chocolates as a silence and tension falls over the two of you.
“It’s good hot chocolate,” you cringe as the words leave Namjoon’s lips.
You hum, taking another sip of your drink. You’re nearly done, drinking it so quickly in the awkwardness for something to do. You’re nearly at the point where you’ll have no distraction, no way to avoid talking, nothing to keep your eyes off Namjoon.
“So go on, what’s your Christmas day traditions?”
You take the last gulp of your hot chocolate before looking at Namjoon, notice his glass is already empty and on the table. You place yours next to his before putting your focus on him. You can do this.
“My Grandma comes over. My sister, her partner and kids come too. It’s kind of a lot, but also just wholly Christmas, you know?”
He hums, nodding with a small smile on his face. “So just you?” You raise an eyebrow in question and he goes on to clarify. “I mean, you know, you’re here alone?”
“Oh,” you flush. “Yeah, just me. And what about you?”
“What my traditions are, or whether it’s just me?” His lips turn up at the corner, amused, and you heat a bit more.
“Well, we still have stockings, and unfortunately we have to open them in my parents’ bedroom,” his face twists as if in disgust and you giggle. “But, yeah, the same as you by the sounds of it. Just a lot of people and a lot of food.”
You smile at him finally relaxing in his presence, he’s nice. You hardly notice he hasn’t answered all your questions until he starts speaking again.
“And yeah, it’s just me.”
You hum, nod your head awkwardly, try to keep that natural smile on your face. You look around the room, searching for anything else to talk about. But the lack of heat from that hot chocolate gets to you the same time a loud gust of wind blows against the house, the fire waving as if the air has gotten into the room. You shiver, not much, but enough for Namjoon to notice.
“Are you cold?”
You look, wide eyed, back to Namjoon. He’s shirt-less and he’s asking if you’re cold? It seems the wrong way around, like you should be asking him that question. What’s he going to give you to heat you up?
“Uh, this may be really bold of me, but I may as well,” you watch him, waiting to hear what has gotten him so unsure. “But, uh, don’t they say body heat helps?”
You continue to stare at him blankly. Is he really suggesting what you think he’s suggesting?
“It was just a suggestion,” he whispers, cheeks tinted pink as he looks away from you into the fire.
Fuck it. You move, shuffle across the small gap between the two of you. You become less sure of what to do when you’re in touching distance of Namjoon, all that smooth, exposed skin making you question whether he really wants you cuddling up to him.
You’re too focused on his chest to notice the arm that wraps itself around your shoulders and then it not so delicately pulls you into him. Your face squashes against the chest you’ve been admiring all night and you feel more than hear the deep chuckles escaping Namjoon. You push away from him, only get far enough so that your face isn’t pushed into his chest, and though it’s an improvement, you still feel a little disappointed.
“Better?” Namjoon mumbles almost into your hair.
You shuffle a bit into him, get comfy and then hum.
“Are you sure?”
He’s aiming for something you know and you can also guess what it might be. The two of you have not been the most subtle about your feelings tonight, and now, one barrier broken, you can’t help but feel Namjoon’s confidence has grown.
Your heart hammers at the thought of what might be about to happen. Half with excitement, half with nerves. Are you really going to do this? It’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with anyone, been a while since you even wanted to be intimate with anyone. And although it’s only been a few hours with Namjoon, you can’t help but think fuck it. It's Christmas after all.
Taking a small breath, you look up at Namjoon.
His face is so close now, you can see the scattering of small moles over his face like a constellation of stars. You can almost count the lines of colour that make up his eyes, can see each individual eyelash and memorise the way they flutter against his skin.
Neither of you talk, you just drink each other in. Eyes flick between eyes and then you look down at his mouth. It's as pretty as the rest of him, pink and soft and smooth.
You’re not sure who moves first, but the next thing you know you’re kissing.
The kiss starts out soft, as if both of you had never done it before, scared that you are doing it wrong or that you are going to somehow scare the other person away. But it doesn’t take long for you to settle into it.
You can feel how his lips curve into a smile as you push your bum off the sofa to try and get closer to him. His hand comes down to your hip, pushing you back down, but before you can whine, his body is following you. His other hand goes to the back of your shoulder, supporting you as he keeps on pushing, forcing you backwards.
You gasp as your back hits the arm of the sofa, and Namjoon takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your gasp turns into a moan; he tastes like chocolate and marshmallows and something you have never tasted before, something wholly him.
He shuffles around, the sofa is hardly big enough for the two of you to sit on, so now lay on it you struggle to see it working. But Namjoon must be a cleaver man, or simply desperate enough to make it work, as he seems to easily slot himself between your legs.
Now he has total control of you. Lay under him, you give in to his every move, let him dive in deeper to you, let him jostle you into the position he wants, let him do whatever he wants to you.
He seems satisfied with it, his chest coming to rest on top of yours. You feel the growing bulge in his pants, and groan at the feeling. You’d only just started kissing and yet that is how affected he is? You don’t know if he’s embarrassed, or if he just wants to slow things down, but as he draws his hips away from yours, you can’t help but chase him. You want to feel him again, want to feel him in you, but for the time being just feeling him between the many layers of clothes is enough.
He chuckles even as his hands grab your hips, stopping you from moving.
“There’s no need to rush,” he says against your lips. “We’ve got all night.”
You nod in agreement even if your head is disagreeing with the statement. You may have all night, but that didn’t mean you shouldn’t rush, what was the point in going so slow, you could do all of that later, if you had so many hours, why not make the most of them?
Your thoughts are silenced by Namjoon’s lips reattaching to yours. The moan that releases itself from your throat causes his lips to turn up at the edges.
“So responsive,” he pulls away again, but this time places his lips on your jaw, kissing your skin as he starts his slow retreat down your neck. “Can’t wait to see if you’re this responsive everywhere.”
“You’d be able to find out sooner if you put a bit more speed into it.”
He chuckles, only frustrating you more. His lips continue down your neck, and when you groan and try to arch up into him, his hands tighten where they sit on your hips, stopping you from moving. You go to groan again, but a flash lights up the room, and then there’s a loud rumble of thunder. You stiffen and don’t realise that Namjoon’s lips have stopped.
“You really are scared of it,” he chuckles but when he realises you don’t return the joke he becomes more serious. “It’s fine, just a little storm.”
You soften as his lips reattach to your neck, this time sucking on the spot, his teeth nipping causing a small sharp pain. His tongue proudly licks the spot that has no doubt bruised.
“It’s not a little storm,” you whine, despite the pleasure that continues to course through you. “You weren’t here earlier when the whole cabin was shaking. I seriously thought a bolt of lightning was going to hit the place and it was going to go up in flames.”
Namjoon doesn’t chuckle this time, just lets out a low hum as his fingers work at the hem of your top.
“Either that or a tree was going to fall on the place. I mean, a tree could still fall on us,” you continue as Namjoon pushes your top up and off your body. “How are you not even affected by that?”
“Because there are other things I’d rather focus on,” he mumbles as his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra. “Maybe I can help distract you too.”
Your bra falls off you and he does exactly as promised. His lips going to your peaked nipple, tongue circling the skin before lightly sucking. You hum out a low moan, head falling backwards on your neck as if to help him have more access.
His one hand stays on your hips, keeping you from moving too much, while his other hand goes to your back, pushing you up into him. His lips kiss their way around your breasts, tongue swiping at your nipples, teeth lightly grazing your skin.
“You’re way too good at this,” your voice comes out breathy giving away how much you’re enjoying yourself.
Namjoon doesn’t respond, presumably way too into his task. When you let out a small moan and try to arch up into him though you can feel a smile on his lips. The hand on your hip moves, coming in front of you, his palm rests on your stomach while his long fingers dip under your pants.
“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling when you feel Namjoon’s fingers swipe through your folds. He doesn’t press down hard, just tests the waters, but it’s enough to have you arching further into him.
Namjoon lets out a low hum, his tongue still working its way at your chest, his finger has found its way to your entrance though, that obviously being enough to finally get a response from him. He doesn’t dip his fingers in, just circles the hole applying light pressure.
You moan, half pleasure, half frustration. Try to wiggle yourself towards him as if that will be enough to get him to push his fingers inside. The only thing that happens is he draws away. His fingers stay where they are, less pressure but still there, but his mouth finally releases your nipple. He pushes himself up enough so that he can look down at you. His eyes rake your body as if taking every inch of you in, linger on your chest as if admiring what he’s achieved there.
“I though you said you were going to help distract me,” you tease and are rewarded with a large toothy smile.
He’s still looking at you with that dimple filled smile, innocent, as if butter wouldn’t melt, when you feel his finger apply more pressure to your core. You twist involuntarily, but Namjoon holds you exactly where he wants you.
“Is this not distraction enough?” He sounds cocky, knows exactly what he’s doing to you, can feel exactly what he’s doing to you. You hate it, like he’s holding some sort of power over you, but you also love it, this sweet, innocent looking guy, being so confident and domineering over you.
“Namjoon,” you whine his name, wiggle your hips into his hand again. He lets out another low chuckle, eyes crinkling at the corners, before you carry on. “Please. Namjoon, don’t tease me.”
His fingers finally dip into you. His eyes flick between yours, watches as you moan out at the feeling of his fingers inside you. He twists his hand so that his thumb can press against your clit, his fingers moving in and out of you. After so little, it feels like a lot.
He continues to watch your face as it scrunches in pleasure. Continues to push his fingers in and out of you. Continues to circle your clit. Continues to create so much pleasure in you.
You continue to wither under him. Continue to arch up into him. Continue to moan out in pleasure. Continue to want more from him.
You feel Namjoon dip towards you, your eyes closed, barely having the functionality to open them. His fingers continue to work in you as his head comes a breaths distance from yours.
“I really want to taste you,” he whispers it like you’re in a room full of people and he only wants you to hear.
“Yeah?” Your voice is louder, breathier, unable to control much of anything in this moment. “I’m so close.”
He hums, pleased, and then his lips drop onto yours. It’s not the most elegant kiss, it’s light, Namjoon having to do most of the work, sucking your bottom lip in between his and then he’s gone again.
“Can we go to the bed?” You can’t concentrate on the question in this moment, and Namjoon seems to understand that as his hand slowly comes to a stop. “Y/N. Can we go to the bed?”
It still takes you a second. From so much pleasure to it all slowly ebbing away with the stopping of his movements. Namjoon has to repeat the question a third time before it fully registers.
“I want to taste you, and the sofa’s too small,” he emphasises.
You shake your head. You should have probably gone to the bed ages ago, then it would have meant you wouldn’t have had to stop suddenly like this.
Pushing your hands on his chest you get him to back away. He hesitates, waits by the sofas edge for you to stand and lead the way. You happily step in front of him, find it amusing that he’d showered here not long ago, has literally just had his fingers in you, and yet he looks so timid now.
“Uh, will the fire be ok?”
You outwardly laugh at that, keep walking to the bedroom and say over your shoulder, “it’ll be fine.”
By the time you get to the edge of the bed and turn around he’s stood in the doorway. You keep your eyes on him as you reach down and shimmy out of your pants, now completely naked in front of him. Namjoon takes a large step towards you, and then a smaller one so he is almost stood flush to you.
“I was looking forward to doing that,” his voice sounds deeper.
“Well, you can take your own off instead,” you keep his eye contact which is hard because his gaze is so intense. “Unless, you were also looking forward to me taking them off for you?”
There’s a beat of silence. His eye searching yours and you’re pretty sure you see his throat bob as if he’s just swallowed something large.
“I’d rather just do what I was talking about earlier,” his voice is level despite all the emotions you know he’s feeling.
“Ah, so now you want to speed things up?” You smile up at him.
He rolls his eyes at you, a large smile on his face as he bends enough to slip his trousers and pants off. You glance down enough to see the big, veiny cock that springs out. You look away before he catches you, unable to take any taunting about you checking him out. Your face heats up with the possibility of what might happen tonight, where the cock may end up. You kind of want to just skip everything and get straight to him putting it in you, but you also really want him to eat you out.
As he said earlier, there’s plenty of time.
“Before we do anything more, do you, uh, have a condom?” He asks.
“Fuck,” you curse, looking away as if in thought.
“I’m happy to not go that far if that was a massive assumption, it’s just –”
“Namjoon,” you cut his rambles. “That’s 100% what I was aiming for. It’s just, I don’t think I have anything. I mean I did come here thinking I was going to be alone.”
He itches the back of his neck. “Right. Sorry about that.”
“Are you really apologising right now?”
“Well, I just don’t want to assume.”
“You’ve really had your fingers in me and are still apologising for crashing my evening?”
“Some girls realise later than you’d think that they don’t want to carry on,” he shrugs and your heart swells at how thoughtful he is. You’ve had it before, have literally had a guy inside of you when you decided you didn’t want to carry on and he was less than happy. Namjoon though acts as if there is no problem, would do anything to help you feel comfortable.
“Let me check my wash bag,” you say, stepping away from him to go to the bathroom.
You know there’s no condom in there, it’s not like you take a spare wherever you go and you know you didn’t pack any for this trip. You really didn’t expect some hot stranger to be banging on your door.
You hear Namjoon shuffling in the bedroom as you silently search.
“We can, uh, just do other stuff. It’s ok,” Namjoon says.
Your heart drops a little, you were so excited to have him in you. But then, oral would still be good, you’d still have a good time. You give one last hopeful look around the room as you continue to hear Namjoon shuffling around the bedroom.
You spin back to the room empty handed. You hadn’t expected to find anything, but the fact you didn’t still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Why hadn’t you just packed a safety condom? Well, at least you know for the future.
“I couldn’t find –” You cut yourself off when you see Namjoon knelt on the floor, hands searching through his pile of still damp clothes. “What are you doing?”
He looks up at you as if only just realising you’re there. He tugs at something, takes a second but holds his wallet up at you in answer. His eyes go back down to look at it as he opens it up.
“I have a feeling there might be one in here,” he explains.
You watch as he opens flaps and pockets. It doesn’t look like a big wallet but there seems to be limitless space inside it, like Mary Poppins bag or the Doctor’s Tardis. Both of you are silent in anticipation as each compartment comes up empty. And then, just as you’ve given up hope, he draws out a packet, his dimpled smile looking up at you.
“Really?” You scoff. “In your wallet? Please tell me that’s not years old?”
His smile falters and his eyes dip back to the wrapper in his hands. “It’s in date. I’m not that gross.”
You hold out your hand, requesting the packet to double check his fact. You really don’t want to risk an STD or worse pregnancy. But his facts come out correct, still have a few years on it in fact.
“Marshmallows, condoms; we’re getting lucky tonight.”
He doesn’t react, annoying because you thought it was a semi good joke, at least worth a smile. But he just snatches the condom back off you, throws it so that it lands on the bed and then places his hands on your shoulders, manoeuvring you towards the bed.
He’s keen, you respect it, allow him to get you to the beds edge and then climb onto the bed.
Lay on your back you watch as he follows suit. He climbs up onto the bed and moves so that his face is level with your knees. He looks down at you, drinks you in and you resist the urge to close your legs. He doesn’t stare for too long though, shuffles forward until he’s in a comfortable position and then uses his hands to open up your legs.
You look up at the ceiling, unable to watch what he’s doing. He’s looking at you with such wide eyes, as if he loves the sight, but still part of you feels self-conscious. You know if you watch him now you might chicken out.
You clutch the sheets in your hands when you feel his long fingers run back through your folds. He doesn’t enter you straight away, you know it’s probably because you’ve dried up a bit from the condom fiasco that he has to get you back in the mood before slipping back in.
What you don’t expect is to feel his mouth on you. You arch up off the bed, scrunch the sheets tighter in your hands. He starts at your clit, sucks and then swipes with his tongue before moving down. His tongue teases your entrance the same way his fingers did earlier. He circles then prods and pokes at the hole before slipping his tongue in.
“Fuck,” you sigh.
One of Namjoons hands goes to your waist holding you down as you squirm in pleasure as his tongue dips in and out of you. It’s not as deep as his fingers, but the sensation is so different and brings just as much pleasure.
He hums out, letting you know how much he’s enjoying himself, the vibrations going straight through you. His tongue leaves your core but remains touching your skin as he works his mouth back to your clit. His fingers take the place of his tongue, and again you lose control of your body, twisting and arching with pleasure, relying on Namjoon to keep you pinned where he wants you.
His teeth lightly nip your clit the same moment his fingers reach a particularly sensitive part of you and you curse as your hand flies to his head. Your fingers rake through the short starts, lightly pushing his head into you. He’s showing no sign of giving up, but you feel like you need to keep him where you want him.
“Fuck, I’m so close. Please, fuck, keep going.”
Namjoon hums, the vibrations once again causing pleasure to course through you. You curse again, squeeze the sheets as you feel your release approaching. Namjoon’s fingers continue their relentless pace, his tongue continues to circle your clit, mouth sucking lightly. It all becomes too much, the feeling bubbles low in your stomach, your hips buck as if chasing the release and then the feeling implodes all through your body.
You make some possibly very unattractive noises, close your eyes as if to better cling onto the blissful feeling coursing through you. Namjoon slows his fingers down, helps you ride out the feeling before completely pulling out and then swiping his tongue through your folds as if to gather up your release.
He pulls himself up onto his elbows, looks at you with that shit-eating grin he’s been wearing all night, the only difference now is there are hints of you all around his mouth, sweat glimmering on the rest of his skin. You’ve literally just come and yet the sight you’re met with makes you clench around nothing.
“Uh, so that was fucking amazing.”
His grin widens if possible and then he makes a slow assent up your body until his face is level with yours.
“And you tasted exactly like that – fucking amazing,” he chuckles, clearly pleased with himself.
“Good to know,” you say before putting a hand on his shoulder, aiming to push him away but he does budge a centimetre. “I was going to attempt to find that condom you so carelessly threw over here.”
“You don’t want a taste?” He smirks at you, pouting his lips out as if in invitation.
“Uh, not particularly, no,” you say, a tad grossed out as you push on his shoulder again, this time he takes the hint, laughing as he rolls to the side and wipes a hand across his mouth.
While you make yourself useful, attempting to find the condom, Namjoon just watches you. You feel rather than feel the packet, snatch it up and flash it in the air so he can see it.
“Do you want me to put it on too,” you raise an eyebrow at him.
“While I’d love that, I have a feeling you’re being sarcastic.”
He grabs it off you, expertly tears it open. You heat as you watch his hand pump his cock, it still looks just as big and just as keen as before. That anticipation from earlier returns, that same bubbling of nerves yet excitement. You want him bad, so, so bad. And yet you’re also nervous.
Namjoon rolls the condom down his cock, you watch every centimetre, every inch that the material covers. You hardly notice when Namjoon finishes and turns to look at you, don’t see the smile drop slightly off his face, don’t realise that every thought going through your head is written on your face.
He moves towards you, leans so that he can twist his body to yours. When you look at him he attaches his lips to yours, keeps on moving so that you have to lean backwards, falling onto the bed. You smile more easily when he leans down with you, his lips still on yours, his leg swing over you so he’s straddling you.
“Like I said, we can go slow,” he mumbles on your lips.
You don’t reply, can’t reply, as his lips consume yours. You fall into it, forget everything but his lips against yours. You drape your arms around his neck, run your fingers through the short strands at the nap of his neck.
You kiss for a while, tongues running along tongues, hands running along skin, lips moving against lips. And then you feel his hard cock on your thigh as he pushes his hips closer to you. He lets out a moan at the contact and grinds down into you with more purpose. You hum, move under him to try and get some benefit from this for yourself.
He gets the idea. You can feel his arm move so that he can put his hand between you. Grasping his cock, he moves it so that the tip lands on your clit and then when he moves it glides through your folds, ending at your entrance before moving back again to your clit.
“Fuck,” Namjoon says as he pops his lips of yours, breathing the word into your mouth as he continues to move his hips into yours. “Fuck, fuck, we can go slow I promise, it’s just, fuck.”
You giggle but lift your hips off the bed so that Namjoons cock slide even further, even deeper in your folds. He lets out a guttural moan.
“It’s ok,” you soothe. “It’s just, I guess it’s more, you know, it’s been a while.”
Namjoon hums while still grinding down into you. You’re not sure if he just doesn’t care or if he is so out of it he’s not properly heard what you said. You risk it being the second, pluck the courage to repeat yourself.
“Namjoon,” you run your fingers a bit harder along his scalp and the combination is enough for him to slow his movements enough and to pop onto his elbows so that his face is above yours and he’s looking into your eyes. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he says and when he’s met with silence, he realises you’re waiting for proof so carries on. “It’s been a while. I don’t care. Unless you do that is? I mean, it really doesn’t matter.”
“Ok, I just thought you should know.”
“Ok, well, are you ready, or shall we slow down some more, or shall we stop completely, or?”
You bite back the smile, though you’re not sure why. But just the fact that you hardly know each other and yet he’s so willing to stop everything for you. He isn’t forcing it, doesn’t feel like there’s an expectation because you’ve reached a certain point.
“No, I’m ready,” you smile at him and are rewarded with another dimple filled smile in return.
“Ok,” he breathes.
“Ok,” you whisper back.
His hand moves back down between your bodies, his eyes never loosing contact with yours. It feels so intimate all of a sudden, a different tension in the air between the two of you. You feel his tip run through your folds but this time he completely stops when he reaches your entrance. He waits, staring deeply into your eyes and when you nod your head he seems to take that as some sort of permission to carry on.
It feels a lot even though he has hardly entered you. You try not to let it show on your face but you know Namjoon must be able to tell, still he keeps pushing in until his hips are fully flush with yours. Only then does he stop.
“Fuck,” he breathes, and you giggle, loving that he keeps cursing as if he can’t handle any of this. “You’re so fucking tight.”
You flush, heat up at the suggestion. You’ve literally just told him it’s been a while and here he is saying that. Namjoon either cottons on or realises because his eyes widen a little and when he talks the words come out a little rushed.
“It’s good. It’s so fucking good. It feels amazing,” you know that’s what he meant, know he didn’t mean anything against you. “I really don’t think I’m going to last long.”
You huff a laugh, run your fingers along the nape of his neck, down the small bumps of his spine.
“You can move if you want,” you whisper. “Unless you’re going to come that fast?”
“You really are going to be the death of me.”
He leans down but you see the smile on his lips before they meet the skin between your shoulder and neck. You’re about to retort when he stops you with the movement of his hips. He drags all the way out of you only the plunge back in. It’s not hard, is somehow soft even though the movement is so large. He’s allowing you both to get used to the sensation.
It takes a few strokes but then that pleasure from earlier starts to build up within you again. He’s still moving slowly though, still dragging all the way out and then just as slowly dragging back inside. His breath fans across your skin, one of the only indications that he’s enjoying it, that and his massive erect cock that’s inside you.
“You can speed up. If you want.”
He grunts, lips kissing your neck in more of a slobber than a delicate kiss. His hips do exactly what you offer. They speed up, have a bit more bite when his hips come into contact with yours.
Your lips pop open but no noise comes out. Your eyes are wide as you look up at the ceiling, and yet you can hardly see anything, you can just feel Namjoon in you. It’s as if every part of you is concentrated in that one spot.
There’s another grunt and Namjoon’s hips increase their pace. The thrusts become shallower but harder and his hand runs down your side until he reaches your knee, pulling it lightly so that it bends until your foot is flat on the bed. It changes the angle that he hits inside you and it feels almost euphoric.
That’s when your voice comes back. Moans start in your throat and escape through your mouth. The noise spurs more from Namjoon, small grunts puncture every thrust he does. Your moans, his groans, the noise of his balls slapping against your ass and the noise of his hips hitting yours; the only noises that fill up the room.
“Are you close?” Namjoon breaks the silence. “Please tell me your close. Because I’m so fucking close.”
“I – uh – I’m close,” you struggle to get the words out.
Namjoon doesn’t reply, just shifts, his rhythm suffering as he pulls the hand still attached to your knee up. You let out a gust of air, not expecting the movement. But Namjoon continues to manoeuvre you. He pushes your knee down onto the bed, still bent, but now yours legs spread wide.
He starts his pace again. Drags out of you and then snaps back in, reattaches his lips to your neck, works at sucking and licking spots there.
You moan. Get impossibly close to your release. Can tell Namjoon is close, his hips stuttering into a more unsteady rhythm. But he holds out, clings on as if waiting for you to come first.
His hand travels along your leg, from your knee inwards. You feel the light, slightly sweaty touch brush along the inside of your thigh. Finally, it reaches its destination. Harsh, hard circles are drawn onto your clit. You moan, arch up into Namjoon and then out of seemingly nowhere your orgasm takes over you.
You grind your hips up into Namjoon. Chasing something you’ve already achieved but want to extend the feeling. You can hear Namjoon cursing, can feel his hips sputtering into you still. You’re not sure if he’s come himself or if he’s still chasing it. You become selfish, not caring about him, just focusing on your own pleasure.
All too soon the feeling dies, but something lingers, a smaller less intense feeling, but something full of pleasure and happiness all the same.
Namjoon pulls out of you, but you stay lay slayed out on the bed, unable to move. He doesn’t say anything as he rolls off the bed, you’re unsure how he can move right now, how his legs are able to support his weight. You can’t even speak any words asking where he’s going.
He disappears, but not for long. You hear rustling, are sure he’s discarded of the condom and then hear water running. When he comes back he places a glass of water on the bedside table and then sits on the edge of the bed. He pulls the covers back and helps you under them. You feel a bit like a baby, but you also kind of relish in him looking after you.
“Stay,” you whisper out, feeling the need to clarify that’s what you want in case he was unsure even after what you’ve just done.
He chuckles before slipping under the covers after you, pulling you into his side. You still feel weak, still feel unable to use any of your limbs.
“You should have some water, maybe go to the toilet.”
You groan out a noise of complaint. And Namjoon lets out another low chuckle, his arms tightening around you.
“Well at least tell me you’re ok.”
You crane your neck up, the only movement your capable of. You look into his eyes and he brushes some damp hair off your forehead.
“Namjoon,” his lips twitch into a smile at his name leaving your lips. “I – that was incredible.”
He smiles more freely at that and then leans down so he can brush his lips on your forehead.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispers.
“Christmas isn’t until next week,” you frown.
“Yeah, but I already know I’m not going to get a better present than that.”
You roll your eyes, shake your head, before moving into a more comfortable position. Namjoon shifts under you, getting comfy with you still in his arms. There’s a flash of lightning, you hardly notice it or the rumble of thunder that follows.
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