Genre: smut Members: Namjoon x Reader Word count: 1173
cold shiver woke you up, the feeling of something missing made you
open your eyes. Sleepy hands searched for him beneath you, but all
you felt was an empty space in the bed you just slept in. Slowly
you got up, the cold leaving goosebumps on your naked flesh. >Maybe
Namjoon already left for work..< you thought to yourself and
rubbed your eyes. Suddenly you saw the big, white snow flakes falling
against your window. Amazed, you stood up and walked up to the
window. Yes, it really did snow and you smiled. Winter was your
favourite season. You just loved spending time with your boyfriend
during the cold season. Hot chocolate, warm cuddling sessions and
cold kisses made your heart flutter with excitement. Still shivering
from the cold, you pulled out a big comfy sweater to pull over your
lacey underwear. It nearly reached your knees that were clothed with
your favourite black thigh-high socks. Humming your favourite song,
you made your way into the living room/kitchen. Flashbacks of last
night’s events made you giggle to yourself and the tingling sensation
in your core returned in an instant. Unfortunately, Namjoon was off
for work in the studio today and had no time to care about your
needs. Slightly pouting, you sat down on your sofa and turned on the
TV. The cold made your nips as hard as a rock, just touching them
nearly made you moan. To distract yourself, you played with your
phone and went through your contact list. Your hands involuntary made
their way down to your sensitive core and caressed your already damp
panties. You hissed under your breath and clicked on Namjoons icon.
‘Joonie, please come home soon. I need youu.’ 'Y/N, I’m at
work. What’s up? 'I’m wearing your favourite underwear right
now.’ You kneeled on your sofa with your sweater pulled up,
showing off your underwear. With a small pout you sent Namjoon a
picture of you. 'See? If you don’t hurry, I might be touching
myself…’ A few minutes passed after your last texts, knowing
he’d be in trouble right now. ’Shit Y/N, I just left work. I dare
you, don’t touch yourself. Wait for me.’
With a big grin you
pulled your sweater down, slightly touching your breasts. You bit
your lip and began caressing your core again, thinking about the
punishment you’d receive if Namjoon saw you right now. A clicking
sound made you open up your eyes in shock and surprise. Excited you
ran up to the door and hugged Namjoon. He was cold and full of snow,
his nose and cheeks were tinted a light red colour. With dark eyes he
looked at you, scanning you from top to bottom while he stripped down
his clothes piece by piece. „Do you know how horny you made me?“
he groaned while touching your cheeks with his cold hands. „I’ve
been waiting for you to get here.“ you bit your lips.
With a final smirk, he crashed his lips on yours. A small moan
escaped your mouth. His cold lips melted onto yours while he pulled
you by your waist. Without hesitation you wrapped your hands around
his neck, pressing your body on his. He slowly pushed you in the
kitchens direction, only to lift you up and sit you down on the
kitchen counter. His hands massaged your butt while his crotch
pressed against your already dripping core. „Did you touch
yourself while I wasn’t here?“ he asked with a smirk. You tried to
look at him innocently, not admitting the truth. „No, of course
not.“ you lied to him with a small smile. Slowly, you pulled of
your giant sweater and tossed it in the corner. His eyes wandered
across your body, hungrily licking his lips. His lips found yours
again, this time the kiss wasn’t cold. You playfully bit into his
lower lips, causing him to groan in pleasure. His lips planted
butterfly kisses across your jaw and neck, down your collarbone to
your breasts. With a skilled handmove, he free’d you from your bra
and the cold air hit your chest, causing your pink nubs to harden
again. His hot breath sent a tingling sensation down to your core,
only intensified by his tongue travelling around your sensitive
breast. With a smirk he slightly bit into it. The pleasure made you
throw your head back in pleasure. Your hips rolled against his
crotch. „Please“ you whined in arousal. „So impatient..“ he
giggled and made his way down your belly. Carefully, he took the last
piece of clothing off of you and eyed your wet core. With a quiet
groan he began eating you out. At first his tongue licked your
glistening folds. He slowly began sucking and biting on your
pulsating clit, making you moan in pleasure. Inserting one finger, he
increased his speed, not wanting to spill one drop of your arousal.
He carefully added another, pumping them in and out repeatedly
hitting your sweet spot. „I’m close“ you panted. „Not yet“ he
mumbled, licking his lips dry. Pouting, you began to suck his fingers
clean. „Such a dirty kitten.“ he smirked. Without hesitation you
began to massage his huge bulge, causing him to slightly groan.
„Please, fuck me already“ you whispered into his ear. Those words
were all he needed to hear. He flipped you around, leaning against
the kitchen counter now. Provocatively, you spread your legs a little
bit more and wiggled your butt. Namjoon lined his now pumped length
along your entrance. He slapped your butt, causing you to moan
loudly. The stinging pain let your juices drip down your thighs.
Slowly, he began to fill you up, inch by inch. You heard him hissing
under his breath while being stretched by his member. His hands held
your hips while he began to fuck you harder and harder. It didn’t
take long until you began to start feeling your orgasm coming up
again. At this point, you nearly screamed Namjoons name. Your legs
were shaking as he hit your sweet spot again and again, driving you
insane. His fingers pressed so hard on your skin, you were sure you’d
have bruises by tomorrow. His deep groans turned you on even more,
your voice was already cracking. As his hands pinched your nubs, you
felt your orgasm coming. Waves of pleasure washed over you, screaming
out Namjoons name and endless curses. Your whole body was shaking as
he rode out your high. He slowly pulled out and lifted your body up
with ease, only to enter you once again after you sat down. Still
feeling fuzzy, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pounded into
you a few more times until he came as well. For a few moments, you
just stayed there, catching your breath. He kissed your sweaty
forehead and carried you into your bed. You cuddled yourself up
against his hot skin, still lightly panting. Namjoon wrapped his arm
around your waist, giving you a small peck on the lips.
Ayyye, first smut I’ve written since my smol hiatus. I hope you like it <3
For the 5 sentence fic- "What were you saying about the dream you had the other night?"
“What were you saying about the dream you had the other night?“ Sansa says with a sly grin, remembering Jon’s drunken confession from the night before.
Jon had a dream about her, and if the redness of his face at the moment is any indication, it was definitely dirty. Sansa’s smile widens, giddy that a long week of mercilessly flirting with her brother’s best friend has finally garnered results.
Jon stays quiet, staring at his shoes. She starts to worry that she’s taken things too far this time, when Jon speaks at last.
“I dreamed we were kids again,” he begins, his voice soft and measured. “It was nighttime and it was snowing, big flakes that stuck to our clothes. You were wearing a coat over your red flannel nightdress, and you had your hair in two braids. We were catching snow on our tongues. No one was around but us and–”
“And you held my hand the entire time,” Sansa finishes, stunned. She remembers that night. She’d been about eight and Jon was staying with them for the holidays. It was one of the first snows of the year and she’d snuck out of bed, far too excited to sleep. Only Jon had been awake. “You remember that?”
Henry woke up with a
yawn, jumped out of bed and ran to his window. It had started snowing
big fluffy flakes the night before and Storybrooke had transformed into
the perfect picture of a winter wonderland. With excitement Henry noted
the depth and texture of the snow: perfect for snow balls and snowmen.
breakfast is ready!” Regina yelled from downstairs. Henry was already
layering up in thermal underwear and thick socks, knowing that he had to
be well bundled in order for Regina to agree on letting him spend the
day in the yard playing. It wasn’t often that the weather conditions in
Maine were just right for this type of snow and he planned to take
He finished dressing in his final layer and raced downstairs to scarf his omelet and toast.
“Slow down,” Regina reprimanded. “School is cancelled, you don’t have to rush.”
“Awesome! Mom, want to hear a joke?” Henry asked with jubilant glee. He didn’t wait for a reply. “Why was the snow man excited?”
“Why?” Regina responded with casual anticipation.
“Cause he heard the snow blower was coming!” Henry shouted the punchline and Regina scowled.
“Where did you hear that…joke?” She asked, paling at the implication that the snow man was excited to get receive oral sex.
It’s been like 5 days I know but Wattpad and uGH sorry
You hated the timer.
You wanted to rip it off so bad. You’d tried, too. Your attempts had only gotten you hospitalized. Most people loved the timers. You hated them.
You wanted to fall in love with someone the way that you should, not by anxiously waiting for your timer to hit zero and fall off. You wanted to meet them and get to know the little things about them and fall asleep in their arms and slowly fall for them. You don’t care about a timer. You don’t care about how long you’ll be living as a Single.
When you were fifteen, you got angry. Why would you want to listen to some dumb timer? You don’t give two fucks about when you meet them. You don’t want it to be that you meet them and then bam! You’re in love. What if they’re a bad person? Sure, you have your faults, but what if they’re worse? So, you’d taken a permanent marker and colored over your timer. The marker faded. So, you began carrying around a bottle of black nail polish and painting over your timer, and wearing things to hide it–long sleeves, bracelets, coats. You didn’t care about everyone else’s opinions. You only wanted to learn to be happy on your own.
You were a wild one, untamable. At sixteen, you’d dyed your hair purple that fades to hot pink. Then, you cut off your long locks and dyed them bright red. Now, you’re growing it back out and the dye has faded.
It’s winter. Today was one of your off days, where the only things in your head are wow, I’m such a fucking failure and why can’t I be normal? and sarcasm and sadness. You’d decided to take a walk in this big city.
You’d pulled on your black skinny jeans and your black combat boots, and a comfy white sweater that you love. You’d left your hair unstyled, cramming a well-worn black beanie over your head and pulling on your black coat and gray gloves. The wool itched the skin of your neck, but you had been too lazy to put on your scarf.
You walk into a small Starbucks, immediately removing your beanie and gloves and sticking them in your coat pockets. After getting something to drink and something small to eat, you found a table by the windows and hung your coat on the back of one chair before sitting down, sticking your feet up on the other chair. It had started to snow in big, fluffy flakes that surprisingly stuck. The snow didn’t make you any more eager to leave the warm little Starbucks.
You suddenly felt exhausted, wanting nothing more to go home to your warm apartment and curl up in your bed, wrapped up in someone’s arms. You want a relationship so badly, but no one else does. Everyone wants it with their soulmate, and their soulmate only. No one wants to date someone and then meet their soulmate. That would be awkward.
You let out a sigh, staring out the window with your cup in your hands. Everyone else looks so happy. But you…you’re alone. Sure, you have your parents. But no one really loves you. No one looks at you with that gleam in their eyes that you’ve been craving for years. You only want to be loved. But who would love someone like you?
You end up getting really warm and push up your sweater sleeves, still staring out that window. The glass is cool and a little foggy, and you watch the world go by. No matter how cold and snowy and miserable outside it is, it’s still a beautiful day.
“Excuse me, miss,” You turn to look at the man before you. He’s incredibly tall, with gorgeous blue eyes and blonde hair. You glance down. Your timer is still on your wrist. The man smiles.
You realize who it is.
Luke Hemmings. Holy fuck.
“Yes?” You say politely, trying to act normal.
He clears his throat. “Um, I’d really hate to bother you, because you look so peaceful and content with sitting alone, but my friend thinks you’re gorgeous and he’d really like to sit and maybe talk to you a little.”
You give him a small smile. “A little company would be nice.” You say. “Tell him that would be lovely.”
He gives you a warm smile. “Thank you.” He turns and hurries off, and you turn back to the window, taking a sip of your drink. It’s started snowing harder. You drop your feet off of the chair, remembering that someone will be coming to sit with you. You wonder who it is.
The chair across from you is pulled out, and someone drops into it. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
You jolt a little, turning and looking at the man across from you with widened eyes, quickly taking in the “blueberry” blue hair and pale skin. Michael Clifford?
There’s a feeling of pressure being lifted off of your wrist, and then your timer clinks onto the table. Michael’s does the same.
You both look from the timers to each other with wide eyes. He swallows hard and reaches down, picking his up. “It’s all zeroes.” He says quietly.
You pick up yours, too, using your nail to scratch off the nail polish. You swallow hard. “So is mine.”
He watches you for a minute before a smile spreads across his face. “So…you’re my soulmate?”
“I guess so,” you sigh.
His smile drops off of his face. “What’s wrong?” He asks.
“It’s nothing to do with you,” You assure him. “It’s just…I hate the whole timer thing. I want to fall in love with someone the way they did before the timers, you know? Dates and late night talks and learning the little things and then really realizing that you’re in love.”
He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. “We can do all of that.” He says. “And we can start right now. Are you into video games? We can go back to my hotel and we can play some?”
You laugh. “Or we could go to my apartment, where your nosy bandmates won’t be. I’ve got movies and video games there.”
“Is that okay with you?”
“Of course,” You shrug, standing up. “Do you want to do now?”
He nods, standing up as well. “That…that would be nice. What’s your name?”
You give him a smile, the first genuine one that you’ve been able to give all day. “Y/n y/l/n.” You say.
“Well, y/n,” He says in a low, breathy voice. “I’m Michael Clifford.”
I fell in love with you the day we met. I believe your first words to me were something like, ‘Stay in the car, or I swear I’ll shoot you’. I have to cop to being a writer instead of a cop. But instead of thoroughly dismissing me as the pest I probably was— and/ or shooting me— you performed a miracle in my life, Nikki, by doing the best thing anyone has ever done for me. You trusted me. Simply, completely, and unconditionally. Except for my occasional conspiracy theories, many of which, may I say, have been borne out. What happened when you and I started to become us was the next miracle. I began to live a dream because you enhance everything. Even a New York skyline. With you I saw for the first time how the windows of the Carlyle gleam like orange jewels at sunset. You taught me that if I close my eyes on the Highline, it smells like a poppy field in Tuscany. I’ll never forget how we went for an early-spring run once, and it suddenly started snowing big fat flakes, turning Central Park into our own private snow globe. And then, when I whispered ‘Rosebud,’ you got it— you really got it! The world with you is exciting, whether it’s a Bowery sidewalk or the Île de la Cité…We have so much in common. We like the same wines, we’ve read the same books, and now, we share the same home. We’ve even shared a bullet. How many newlyweds can say that? Hemingway once said, ‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’ I’m no Hemingway, but I would add, ‘And the best way to tell if you love somebody, is to have it be Nikki Heat.’ And now I, Jameson Rook, promise my eternal love to you, Nikki Heat. Simply, completely, and unconditionally. Until death do us part.
I fell in love with you the day we met. I believe your first words to me were something like, ‘Stay in the car, or I swear I’ll shoot you…..I have to cop to being a writer instead of a cop. But instead of thoroughly dismissing me as the pest I probably was— and/ or shooting me— you performed a miracle in my life, Nikki, by doing the best thing anyone has ever done for me. You trusted me. Simply, completely, and unconditionally. Except for my occasional conspiracy theories, many of which, may I say, have been borne out.
“What happened when you and I started to become us was the next miracle. I began to live a dream because you enhance everything. Even a New York skyline. With you I saw for the first time how the windows of the Carlyle gleam like orange jewels at sunset. You taught me that if I close my eyes on the Highline, it smells like a poppy field in Tuscany. I’ll never forget how we went for an early-spring run once, and it suddenly started snowing big fat flakes, turning Central Park into our own private snow globe. And then, when I whispered ‘Rosebud,’ you got it— you really got it! The world with you is exciting, whether it’s a Bowery sidewalk or the Île de la Cité….“
“Hemingway once said, ‘The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.’ I’m no Hemingway, but I would add, ‘And the best way to tell if you love somebody, is to have it be Nikki Heat.’”
“And now I, Jameson Rook, promise my eternal love to you, Nikki Heat. Simply, completely, and unconditionally. Until death do us part.