Cynthia

AHS • BL • BTS • 20s

[floralseokjin]

💌

Hello everyone! It’s been a while! I didn’t mean to stay away for so long, and for that I apologise. Looking through my inbox, I’m touched that I’ve been missed. I’ve missed you all too! Thank you for checking in, and I plan on replying to all my messages asap. 

Now, considering it’s been over half a year, maybe you can already guess, but sadly I have stopped writing fanfic. I think deep down I knew 9 months to fall in love would be my last - I really put my all into that story - but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I’ve wanted to log in and interact with you all numerous times, but I thought a break would be best for me until I officially decided (and accepted) what to do. 

This isn’t goodbye though! 

While away, I have been (slowly) writing an original novel. I have 25k written right now and in the new year I really hope to share more details with you! Your support and excitement as I attempt to publish my own book would truly mean the world to me 🤧 

I’ve been on this site for seven years and I never imagined to gain the amount of readers I have. The love I’ve received over the years will always mean so much to me. I cherish every moment I spent writing for bts. Without them, none of it would have been possible. Because of them I discovered my joy for writing. I will always cherish this space. All the friends I made, the interactions I had with you all, whether it was anonymous or not. All the stories I posted. It all made me very happy 🥺

Of course, I do plan on sticking around, awaiting and celebrating bts’ return with you all. I just won’t be very active, but I would absolutely LOVE it if you stayed around for this new journey I’m attempting to embark on. I will keep you posted! 

Lots of love, Jordan 💖 

[matryosika]

not every day i get the urge of getting on my knees and giving someone a blowjob but today... god i am feeling NASTY

[dommingateez]

I do love when two very fucked up people are in very fucked up love with each other

[hyunsvngs]

soft sex w seungmin :( yeah he might tease u a lil still (it’s kim seungmin after all) but it’s sooo soft and comforting :( him giggling while kissing u, rubbing his warm hands up n down ur sides …. just soft n silly. and the aftercare hhnnnnnnfjdjd omg what if i cry :(

-🐳 anon

seungmin would love to do this. you can't have hard rough sex all the time!! UR SORE!!

"nice and slow, baby, nice and slow," seungmin says. his breath is warm against your neck, lips pursing to press a soft kiss into your skin. his cock is solid inside of you, but you're sore from the night before, and he knows it. he knows it, but he knows you need him too - this is the only way. "feels good? not hurting?"

you nod, grinning. "'s good, seungie. thank you."

seungmin chuckles, running his hands up your thighs. it tickles you slightly and makes you giggle, wiggling away from his touch.

"we'll go slow. slow and soft, yeah?" he's quieter this time, and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, fully naked and skin soft against yours. he lets his chest brush against yours, and then he's moving, soft grinds of his hips that make you sigh in bliss.

"yeah, just like that," you affirm, and he kisses your hairline in response. the lights are dim in your bedroom, one singular lamp casting a soft glow over his features. you can just about make out his soft smile, puppy-dog eyes and the way his jaw clenches at a particularly long thrust. you coo when he leans down, forearms either side of your head for purchase, allowing him to thrust a little deeper. "god, i'll cum in no time, minnie."

"good," he grins, kissing your forehead. "my special thing. cum whenever you want, baby."

[croa861]

beautiful. 🥲

[planetdream]

mmmm thinking about pervy roommate hyunjin who watches your girlfriend, yeji, fuck you, through the slight crack in your door. it's not the first time he's done it either. standing not to close to the door [because he's clumsy] but close enough to see, hand down his pants squeezing at his cock while watching yeji eat you out. bites his lip whenever you moan, all of your sounds going straight to his cock, twitching in his hand as he tries to get off as quickly as possible. it isn't until yeji puts on her strap that hyunjin is coming in his pants, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. usually he'd shuffle back into his room by the first time he cums, but he just wants to watch some more—how yeji spreads you open, hips rocking with a steady rhythm into yours, hard and deep—and before hyunjin knows it, his hand is down his hands again, thumb rubbing over the tip before wrapping around his girth. a whimper gets caught in his throat the second he catches onto what yeji is saying to you, her hand gripping at your cheeks; strings of degradations spilling from her lips so naturally. and the way you moan in response to her words, agreeing to all the dirty things she says to you. it's not long before he's coming again, careful to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress his moans. stilling for a moment to regain clarity, before waddling off back to his room with cum stained pants and cum dripping down his thighs.

[spencerreidafterhours]

*~.It’s so comforting to know I can stay up till 2 am reading the most toe curling, filthy, plotless smut in a warm bed on thanksgiving break. This is what the holidays are all about. *~.

[jeonjcngkook-deactivated2025071]

primrose | jjk (m)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

genre(s)&au(s): romance, established relationship, fluff, smut

wc: 2.7k

rating: 18+

warnings: koo is dilf coded !!!! mild language (swearing), sweet nicknames, weverse live in bed jjk so we’re all down bad n infatuated, bigdck!koo, cuddles, making out, grrrrrïndin, håndjb, koo covers himself<3, n oc cant help where her tongue goes - winkwink, she just wants him! to! feel! pampered:’) edging, stolen/interrupted orgåãsms but we cant be mad at it

summary: “I said… we’re not done. Understand?”

beta: @tattookoo

note: thank you arden for going through this with me<3 i adore you always!!!

note2: reupload bcs first one stopped showing in tags when i was asleep:(

It isn’t often that you find yourself waking up to the early morning sun blessing the minimalistic beige coloured bedroom through the white horizontal venetian blinds with a weight draped over your body. As you allow your body to adjust to the morning, you feel your body warming in the gentlest of ways — not by the bright star in the sky but by the graze of soft fingertips that are currently caressing your hips back and forth underneath the duvet.

He isn’t fully asleep, but that doesn’t stop the airiest snores to whistle from his small button shaped nose. With this knowledge, you don’t cease in your movements to turn your body in his arms and gaze upon his delicate features past the unruly messy bed hair — bangs covering his forehead and strands going in all sort of directions.

Jungkook’s lashes lie softly against the apples of his cheeks as the sun washes over his skin and casts a beautiful glowing hue over him. Your eyes wander from his lashes, to the slight puffiness of his cheeks; indicating that he’s rested well. You smile softly as you gaze at his delicate button nose, then to his lips as they sit prettily underneath. They’re naturally pouted, pink and plump. A thin silver hoop of metal hugs his lip beautifully in the corner of his ever so slightly ajar lips as he breathes through his mouth — a habit that you’ve come to know over the last seven months together.

Keep reading

[eoieopda]

meet me at the bar (ksj)

You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x AFAB!Reader Type: One Shot | Fluff w/ Smut | 18+ — Minors DNI Word Count: 7.5k AU: Law school, study-buddies, best friends to lovers, highly educated idiots in love CW: Bad jokes, Latin, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), Seokjinnie hits it from the back. A/N: My inaugural Seokjin smut is dedicated to my donsaeng-in-law (see what I did there?) @yoongiphoria, who is now embarking on this stupid, stupid gatekeeping journey IRL. Best of luck, my lil love. I'll be waiting for you on the other side of the war! MJ FIGHTING ~ Big ups to my other lil love, M, for beta reading 💕 Also: This is written based on my experience in the American legal (educational) system. I was, frankly, too lazy to study up on South Korean law for a fanfic, lol. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

You are not spiraling.

You are a paragon of health and wellness, you tell yourself as you gulp down a mug of coffee that is still far too hot, like you’ll die without it. 

More bitter than the taste on your tongue is the realization that you might die with it —  your third cup in fewer hours. As far as you can tell, though, it’s a win-win situation: You’ll either generate enough anxious energy to finalize your property law flashcards, or you’ll drop dead before you have to review them.

And you won’t have to take that exam…

And you won’t have to pay off your student debt…

Besides, you figure, the stomach ulcer you’re likely inflicting on yourself will be infinitely less painful than dragging your under-caffeinated corpse through yet another day of studying. Another eight, consecutive hours spent forcing forgotten subjects back into your maxed-out brain. 

It’s worth it, you repeat to yourself, though this gauntlet has turned out to be a full-time job that steals, rather than pays. You can faint on top of the finish line, so long as some part of you crosses it.

You should be used to it by now, running a marathon at a dead sprint. That’s all you’ve ever done — push yourself. You attended your first day of preschool and never stopped, never took a breath. Through elementary, middle, and high school; then for four years of university. Going, going, going.

Stumbling through that eighteenth lap around the track, you kept going because — well, being a student all was all you’d ever been. That’s your toxic trait, you’ve since discovered. Your concept of self is rooted exclusively within the context of a classroom.

You didn’t know it at the time, but your decision to take the Law School Admission Test — or the HellSAT, as you’ve come to call it — might have been the start of a quarter-life crisis. But you didn’t stop there. No, you took that score and ran with it. Slapped it onto every application as a desperate plea for acceptance. 

When you received your admission letter, you were a bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old with a bachelor’s degree and a vaguely defined dream.

Call it naïveté or call it gravitas, there wasn’t a doubt in your smooth little brain that law school was the logical next step to take. That being intelligent and hard-working made you well-equipped for the challenge that came with pursuing a Juris Doctor. After all, you’d spent nineteen years delaying gratification — what difference would three more make?

Within the first hour of your orientation, you — a professional student — had already learned something new: You were a masochist and, frankly, somewhat of an idiot.

Thankfully, you weren’t alone. 

Sitting — dissociating, more like — at a nearby table was a lanky boy you’d first noticed on your tour of the law building. His glassy-eyed stare was aimed somewhere in the middle-distance, and even though his slightly agape mouth said nothing, it communicated everything. He was the only other person in that atrium who looked the way you felt: scared shitless and riddled with buyer’s remorse. A can crushed under the boot of self-doubt.

It was the first time you and your wobbly knees went running in his direction, but it wouldn’t be the last.

He was so deep in a daze at that moment that he didn’t notice the way you threw yourself into the open chair next to him, didn’t look up at the scrape of wooden legs against the granite floor beneath them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you announced your presence with words, however. 

It was less of an introduction — the way people in a society tend to greet each other for the first time, ever — and more of a twister. Words whipped through the air at a dangerously high velocity, no syllable ending before you started on the next. Just one breath, a few consonants, and a pair of dark eyebrows shooting up to cower behind his bangs. 

“Was — was that Korean?” He asked when you finally ran out of wind. 

Judging by the way his wide eyes softened, you knew he wasn’t making fun of you. You’d simply scrambled his brain so thoroughly that you’d transcended the known limits of language.

More of a question than an answer, you peeped, “I think so. Maybe?” You wavered with a sigh. “I’m no longer confident that I know any of the things I thought I knew, though. So, um, don’t quote me on that.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. I didn’t catch enough of whatever that was,” he gestured vaguely, “To even attempt to quote you.”

Within seconds and without knowing, he’d disarmed the bomb ticking away in your gut. He must’ve sensed it, too, because his face lit up so completely that you had to look away. One glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows confirmed that the sun hadn’t reappeared at that time of night. 

That rush of warmth you felt then  — that absolutely insane brightness — was powered exclusively by the grin taking up the entirety of his face. If that megawatt smile alone hadn’t rerouted your oncoming anxiety attack, the distinct, squeaking laugh that erupted out of his chest would’ve done the job. 

You doubled over, either under the weight of your own giggling or with the relief you felt in finding someone equally lost. Eyes swimming with mirth, you wiped wetness from your cheekbone and snorted, “Was that a windshield wiper?”  

“No, that was embarrassing.” 

The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks went some dizzy shade of pink. 

He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck with one hand and held the other out to shake yours, “And I’m Kim Seokjin.”

Now, when the door of your apartment flies open without warning, it’s that same savior standing on your threshold. That designation may be melodramatic, but if that brown paper bag contains what you suspect it does, it’s deserved.

Seokjin, patron saint of breakfast sandwiches, flops down on the couch that stretches along the opposite side of your coffee table. From where you sit on the floor — hunched over your notes like a hobgoblin — you reach out your expectant arms and make grabby hands in the space between you.

You see mischief flash in his eyes, but only for a second. In the next, he’s pretending like he doesn’t see you; doesn’t hear your petulant little whines. He extends long legs out over the cushions, clutches the bag to his chest, and lets his head roll back to rest on the couch’s arm.

“Wanna know what I did today instead of practice essays?” He asks, eyes unfocused on the ceiling above.

All you actually want is whatever that smell is. You can’t stop staring at the bag of food in his hands. If you try hard enough, maybe you can summon some sort of psychic energy, make it levitate towards you.

He doesn’t wait for your response. “The math.”

“Huh?” 

You frown; and as you do, you reluctantly shift your gaze from Seokjin’s hands to his face. He isn’t looking your way, but you can tell he’s grimacing based solely on the way his jaw twitches. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ground his teeth to dust over the past three years, given how often he makes that face.

In an attempt to ease the tension in his posture, you snort, “Didn’t we go to law school because we can’t do math?”

He cracks an unwilling smile. A tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. Without turning his head, he extends his arm out in your direction. In the split second it takes for yours to spring forward like a snake, that blessed bag dangles; the scent of sausage, egg, and cheese wafts through the air and restores your will to live. Clutching your prize, halfway to feral, you tear into it without hesitation.

As you bite off more than you can chew, Seokjin prepares his rant with a sigh, “So, consider this.”

“Mmphf,” you advise through a mouthful of greasy bliss.

“Bar exam prep takes eight weeks, right? If we’re only counting business days, that’s forty — forty days, for a minimum of eight hours each.”

He becomes more restless, the more he talks. Heated, he sits bolt upright and turns wild-eyed to you.

Oh, he’s gone full-tilt insane.

“Three-hundred-and-twenty hours, then. And if you think about that in terms of our clerk wages —” He slaps his hands down on his thighs for emphasis. “— at 2,625 won per hour —” 

Then, he points to you, as if the increasing volume of his voice wasn’t already holding you hostage. “— we’ve sacrificed nearly two million won in income, just by studying for this fucking test.”

You swallow down the last bite of your sandwich, which you downright hoovered while Seokjin took the path of most resistance. After clearing your throat, your interjection overlaps with his next point: 

“Seokjinnie, why didn’t you just double our monthly —”

“That’s after we paid ninety million in tuition, hundreds of thousands on study materials and registration fees —”

You cut him off, “Is this your way of asking me to Venmo you for breakfast?” 

He freezes, caught fully off-guard. Shocked eyes widen like you’re the ridiculous one. “Of course not!”

He waves you off like his thoughtful gesture is no big deal. Then, like he’s tired himself out, he sinks back onto your couch. From his back, he grumbles with crossed arms, “‘M just sayin’ that I’m tired of this shit.”

You can’t help but giggle at the pathetic pout working down the corners of his mouth. “Felt,” you agree, though it feels a little bit like a lie.

Truth be told, you feel more awake now than you did ten minutes ago, and you can’t attribute it to the coffee — not when the evidence so clearly indicates otherwise. 

Over the course of three years, you’ve built up quite the case against yourself. You’ve made the following findings of fact:

Whenever he pops up, Seokjin brings your mood up with him. Even now, as he marinates in anguish on your couch, his presence gives you a reason not to beat yourself unconscious with the four-kilogram prep book that sits beside you on the rug. Makes you hate your circumstances a little less, if only because you share them with him.

And, for a rapidly deflating balloon, you have to concede that Seokjin looks stunning this morning. 

Unlike you and your day-three hair, he somehow had the energy to wash his. The mid-sections of some strands are still damp; the parts that aren’t frame his face in fluffy waves. His shampoo is something fruity mixed with something crisp — grapefruit and mint, maybe? — and it floods your senses, causing question marks to replace any coherent thoughts you might otherwise have. You’d be lying again if you said you didn’t want to find out for sure how soft those tresses really are.

The verdict? 

Well, the jury’s still out, but you know you’re guilty. 

If being down this bad for your best friend isn’t a criminal offense, it should be.

You shake your head to clear it. To smother the flame licking up the inside of your belly, you grab the certified mood killer off the coffee table and hold it up in front of you. Surely, the cure for a sexual tension headache is an eight-centimeter stack of color-coded, neon index cards covered in information you shouldn’t need to memorize in the first place.

“Exam’s in one week,” you say with a shiver.

Seokjin rolls onto his side to look forlornly at you. You are not looking at his bare hip bone, which appears where the hem of his shirt shifts from the waistband of his joggers. Nope.  

You continue the search for the point you’re trying to make. “I can barely spell mortgage, let alone explain what the fuck to do with one.”

“Don’t think I know what land even is at this point,” he sighs. Dejected, he lets his arm go limp. It spills off the edge of the cushion and dangles until his knuckles brush against the rug. “What is this property you speak of?”

Biting back a grin is impossible, so you press your lips together instead. Just like that — just by Seokjin being Seokjin — the hellscape you willingly walked into gets a little brighter. Maybe, you think, you can do this.

You look down for a moment to shuffle up the cards you spent the better part of two days preparing. As you stare down at the staggering amount of knowledge you might be tested on, you can feel the crease returning between your eyebrows. Your grimace is back, too, like a reflex. 

If you make it through this experience without premature wrinkles, you’ll be shocked.

There’s shifting on the couch ahead, but you don’t look up until Seokjin breezes, “From this angle, it almost looks like you’re smiling.”

His arm is no longer dangling off the edge of the couch. His entire upper body is. Knees now hinged over the backrest for balance, he’s upside-down and smirking impishly at you.

He has to know you’re in love with him, right? How could he expect you not to be?

You clear your throat and arch a single eyebrow as a challenge. “What is the rule against perpetuities, Seokjinnie?”

Like you, he can recite it in full at a machine-gun rate of fire. It’s been beaten so far into your heads that you might utter it on your deathbeds, with your last gasping breaths.

“No interest in land is good unless it must vest, if at all, not later than twenty-one years after some life in being at the creation of the interest,” he responds with a smug smile. “Easy.”

It’s your turn to smirk. 

“Great. Now, what does any of that mean?”

Without missing a beat, he fires back, “Does anyone know?”

“Absolutely not. Next question!”

Having had the same day, every day, for seven weeks straight, Seokjin is struggling. He’s spent hundreds of hours on the same routine, feeling beaten down and burnt out, all the while. It goes like this:

Every morning, he wakes up and goes for a run in a feeble attempt to feel something other than dread. After that, he eats a lackluster breakfast, and then he promptly chains himself to his desk. When he finally gives himself permission to get up again, it’s dark out; and he’s too brain dead to check the hundred or so notifications that amassed on his phone during his fugue state.

Scratch that. There’s one person he responds to, no matter what. As far as everyone else is concerned, though, he’s a ghost.

Today is the first day out of the last fifty-five where Seokjin doesn’t feel like his brain is being hydraulically pressed. For the first time in too long, he fell into an old routine; one he’s missed. It started with a shower — and honestly, that was overdue — then, he swung by the café he’s frequented over the past three years. There, he made his usual order.

One iced americano, and one sausage-egg-and-cheese croissant with extra hot sauce.

Before he walked back up the block, he downed the former, but he didn’t touch the latter. The latter wasn’t for him, anyways. None of the breakfast sandwiches he ever stops for are.

The subsequent hours looked semi-similar to the three-hundred-and-twenty he’s already devoted to studying. Well, sort of. To be clear, the subject matter still sucks, and he’s still angry that he has to touch it at all, but he isn’t waiting for the sweet release of death in the same way he has been all summer. 

This might have something to do with the fact that, for the first time in nearly sixty days, he’s not on his own. 

More than that, he’s with you.

Having switched away from covenants, easements, and servitudes, he feels a slightly less stupid. Contract law is a little more straightforward and a little less caked in colonialism. Unfortunately, after six hours of burning all his brain cells on shit like liens, Seokjin has begun his descent into madness. 

The worms are digging in, he can’t focus, and neither of you can stop — fucking — laughing.

“I’ll give you a hint,” you giggle, shifting in your spot on the neighboring cushion. You give his knee a pat that feels a tiny bit patronizing, but that makes his pulse race, nonetheless. “It’s a Latin term.”

He snorts so loudly that you do a double-take, just to make sure it wasn’t a sneeze. You both stare at one another for a beat, then comes the eruption.

“It’s all Latin!” He roars. 

To muffle the way he’s wheezing, Seokjin slaps his hands over his face. It’s already tear-stained from his abject failure to keep his shit together. At least he can attempt to hide how red he knows it is.

Your laugh comes straight from your belly. You double over completely when his comes out in squeaks, hand reaching out to squeeze his forearm. It used to bother him, the sound he made when he truly loses it, but it doesn’t any more. 

How could it, when it makes you cling to him like that?

Wiping at your cheeks, you take a deep breath, then sigh, “Does it help if I give you the translation?”

He doubts it because you just pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, and now, his mind is blank. 

Really, it’s a fucking miracle he graduated at all with you around. You and that face you make when you concentrate have always made it impossible for him to do so. It’s why he wasn’t paying attention in class when this shit was taught in the first place, he realizes now. 

To cool himself down, Seokjin grabs the Camelbak bottle off the coffee table, realizes too late it’s yours and not his — oh, well — and shoves the straw into his mouth. He nods once, firmly, and sucks in as much water as he can. 

It all sprays back out of his mouth when you say:

“Naked promise.”

He had always wondered what his life would look like if it ever flashed before his eyes. Now, he knows. It’s not a montage of his finest moments, the most recent of which would not have made the cut. All he sees is you, wide-eyed, glancing between him and the wet spot that’s now soaking through your sweatshirt.

You press your lips together, probably to keep from laughing in his face. It’s a valiant effort on your part and a kind gesture, but honestly, he doesn’t deserve it. His fingers twitch as he clutches the bottle, wanting nothing more than to dump the remaining water on his face. He embarrasses himself more often than not, but this stings his cheeks like a sunburn.

“I am —” he raises his hands, flustered, “So sorry. I don’t remember waking up in a sitcom this morning, but I, uhhh, clearly did.”

When you stand up, you’re grinning. And not in that scary way you do when you’re about to retaliate for some prank he’s pulled. No, that look on your face is genuine amusement. 

Thank god.

You shrug as you cross your arms over your torso and grip the hem of your sweatshirt with both hands. “All good, Seokjinnie,” you laugh. “This needed to be washed, anyway. You see that coffee stain?”

No. 

No, he does not see that coffee stain because the tank top underneath your sweatshirt is clinging to the wet spot as you tug the top layer up your stomach. He feels bad for staring — really, he does — but fuck, your skin looks soft. Like, so soft that he has to grip his water bottle to keep a grip on himself.

Eventually, your tank top separates from your sweatshirt. It falls back down to where it belongs, to Seokjin’s dismay, and the sweatshirt keeps going. 

“Nudum pactum,” you remind him as you pull the drenched hoodie over your head. Playfully, you toss it at him. It smacks against his chest, splays out over his lap. 

Once more with feeling: thank god. 

You sink back down beside him on the couch, and he can’t help but notice that you’re the tiniest bit closer than you were before. It’s innocent, just your bare knee bumping his shin as you re-cross your legs. Still, it leaves his tingling through the fabric of his joggers when you don’t move away.

The silence surges as it settles, crinkling like static in his ears. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask him again: “What’s it mean?”

Uhhhh.

“It means —”

Unfortunately for him, the water he just forcibly ejected from his mouth didn’t help him. His throat is dry now, and he sounds strangled, he’s sure. The way you’re watching him so intently doesn’t help one fucking bit, either.

Are you doing that on purpose?

You nudge him physically this time, knuckles connecting gently and playfully with his leg. He wonders if you can hear his heart hammering against the wall of his chest in all of this quiet. You might, he figures, especially when you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Instinctively, his eyes flick down to the length of your neck. Without a curtain of hair in the way, it’s even more exposed skin that he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with. Making matters worse for him, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. His breath catches when he tears his gaze away, back up, and sees the way you’re looking at him now.

You are absolutely — without a goddamn doubt — doing this on purpose.

If that’s the game you want to play, Seokjin can play it, too. He turns away from you to set the bottle back down on the coaster he took it from. As he does, he finally answers your question — the nonchalance he’s faking even sounds convincing.

“It’s an unenforceable promise,” he replies casually. “One with insufficient consideration.”

He rights himself in his seat, stretches a bit further backwards until he’s resting comfortably against the arm of the couch. You hide it well, but there’s a hint of a pout on your lips when you clock the newfound distance. 

Check, he smirks to himself, your move.

A flash of pink slips out. Your tongue wetting those lips before you prompt him more quietly than before, “And consideration is…?”

He slips up, makes the mistake of noticing the rise and fall of your chest as you take measured breaths. So, he sees, you’re buzzing with anticipation, too. He wonders if it’s him that’s having that effect on you, or the circumstances. 

For all he knows, it could be pent up steam that you need to release. Stress weighing down your body that you want to get off.

Fuck, he wants to get you off.

He swallows thickly. “Can’t get something for nothing. There has to be an exchange, otherwise it’s meaningless.”

You say nothing, so he keeps talking.

“Quid pro quo, essentially,” Seokjin adds. He chuckles slightly when he realizes. “See? Told you. It’s all fucking Latin.”

The corner of your mouth twitches at his joke, but you don’t make a sound. The hand that previously pushed against his leg inches closer, just barely. It’s such a small shift that you don’t seem to realize that you’re moving it. 

Maybe you feel that pull, too; the one he’s been fighting since you barged into his life without warning. 

Maybe the consideration has been there from the start; a promise for a promise. I’ll jump if you do. Because it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? Since orientation.

Pulling all-nighters in the library, developing matching caffeine dependencies, getting sick too often from the strain of it all. 

You and him.

Laughing quietly in the back of lectures, cold sweats through cold calls, bitching about unpaid internships while you spend indisposable income at the bar down the block without acknowledging the irony.

There are only two real differences between this night and that first one, he notes.

Now, Seokjin isn’t questioning every decision he’s ever made that led him to this point. He’s not scared shitless, not really. Not when you’re around.

You cut through the silence with a sigh that’s barely more than an exhale, so breathy that your voice dissipates as soon as it hits the air.

“Seokjin.”

He could probably hear a pin if you dropped one — can hear everything you don’t say. It’s all packed tight inside that utterance of his name like gunpowder, locked and loaded. 

So, who shoots first?

You shift again. Now, when you speak, it’s deliberate and in a language he can parse.

“Tell me you want me, too.”

Bang!

His body answers for him, pushes off from where he leans until he can get his knees underneath him. He’s waited three years to kiss you, but he can delay gratification for the brief time it takes to overtake you. Pinned with his palms bearing weight on either side of your head, you wind up caged in and breathless beneath him. His right knee occupies the space between your spread thighs.

Again, it’s a miracle he’s made it this far with you around.

He hums, beyond pleased with the position he finds himself in. “Maybe. Tell me if I got the answer right.”

“Oh my god.” You toss your head back to the extent that you can, which admittedly isn’t far. Your frustration rolls off you in waves, heat palpable. “I’ll kill you, I swear.”

“Sounds admissible to me,” he teases further. He flexes an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an exception to the prohibition of hearsay evidence? Speaks to motive, I think.”

Seokjin has no idea why he’s riling himself up like this. If he could shut up — just this once — he could be kissing you by now. You seem to be aware of that fact, too, because you grip his shirt so desperately, one right move might tear it.

You huff out a laugh despite the circumstances,  “This friendship is over, by the way, in case that’s not clear.”

That tiny smile on your face spreads to his. Not over, he knows, just modified. Amplified, finally. Knowing that, he continues to push his luck. 

“Can I make one more joke?”

“So over!” You emphasize with a wail.

He takes a second to center himself before hitting you with award-winning drama, sincerity dipped in the kind of humor he never misses out on with you: 

“You have adversely possessed my heart.”

Your jaw drops at how stupid that line was, but you reign it in just in time for his lips to crash into yours. 

It almost knocks the wind out of him, the way the pieces fall with force into place. They slot together easily, just like you do. With fingers clinging, the weight of his body molding overtop of yours. 

You kiss him until he forgets what life tasted like without your tongue licking into him, your little moans melting in his mouth — until you break apart, gasping for air. Panting, you ask, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting on you?” 

He doesn’t, no, not at all. Thankfully, you take his stunned silence for what it’s worth. After relinquishing your grip on his shirt, you bring your hands up to cup his face gently in your palms. 

With you touching him like this, he has no option but to stare down at you. Bit redundant, he thinks, since his focus has always been locked right here, right on you, by choice. Given that, it’s a little funny that he managed to miss every signal you’ve apparently sent him. But really, it doesn’t necessarily surprise him to hear that he’s even dumber than he thought.

You kiss him slowly this time, briefly, before nipping affectionately at his bottom lip. It drives him exactly as crazy as you want it to; makes his cock twitch inside his joggers, makes his brain foggy with a potent combination of fondness and filth.

Do you have any idea how many times he’s thought about this? He’s genuinely wondering because even he doesn’t know. He’s lost count of all the times he’s watched you nibble on your own lip and wished it was his instead. A million or more, if he has to guess.

Seeming to sense the way you've scrambled his brain, you nudge the tip of his nose with yours and giggle.

Seokjin can’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?”

“Thought of a good one,” you answer. Your smirk does his head in. The contrasting, goofy wiggle of your eyebrows squeezes his heart. “Better than yours, I think.”

He kisses you quick and hums, “Oh?”

You nod. 

The suspense is killing him. So is the way your clothed cunt grinds ever so slightly against his thigh. 

Fuck. 

He wants you, he wants you, he wants you. 

“You gonna make me come, Seokjin, or do I have to wait for you to file a subpoena?”

You may have to seek a refund for the prep course you paid for. 

For as long as you can remember, you’ve learned best through application. You could read the same chapter, over and over, and not absorb a word. The same was true with lectures, even more so when they’re pre-recorded rambles by the weirdest adjunct professors known to man. Sure, you may eventually memorize concepts this way, but they don’t sink in deeply enough to stay. You can’t use them in any way that helps you.

To no one’s surprise, no part of your civil procedure lecture sticks until it falls into your lap. 

Strike that. 

Until Seokjin loses his balance in trying to take his pants off, and falls onto your floor with a yelp.

A moment or two passes while you stare at each other in shock, but that dissolves quickly. And so do both of you, right into another fit of laughter that makes your shoulders shake. Then, you jump to your feet and hold your hands out to him.

Seokjin accepts them, though he doesn’t rely on them at all when he stands back up. He seems more than content just to hold onto you, whether or not he needs you to keep him steady. You have no complaints, for once in your life.

Shaking his head, he chuckles, “Venue change?”

“I think —” You hum and kiss the column of his throat. He swallows hard enough that you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. So sensitive.  “This is what they call forum non conveniens.”

He’s having none of that, and you don’t necessarily blame him. As it turns out, the shoe isn’t terribly comfortable when it’s on the other foot.

You’re lifted without warning, bent over his shoulder, and hauled off in the direction of your bedroom before you can even squeak in protest. You drop like a bag of dirt — albeit a beloved bag of dirt — onto your mattress once he reaches it; his lips are on yours to swallow the gasp before it can leave your mouth.

As eager as his mouth are his hands, roaming down the curve of your waist and over your hips. With fistfuls of the pajama shorts you hadn’t bothered to change out of, his head dips down under your jaw. The warmth of his breath is quickly replaced by that of his tongue, flicking a short, languid line along your neck.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he breathes. A shiver shoots straight down your spine and you keen, head crashing gracelessly back against the pillows. “Just like this.”

And he means it — you can feel how true it is with him settled between your spread legs. He presses his hips forward to meet your clothed cunt, cock teasing you through four goddamn layers’ worth of fabric.

His lips flutter against your earlobe just seconds before his teeth graze your flesh. He continues, voice vibrating through his chest to yours, “All the time.”

You outright whimper when he grinds against you a second time. Halfway to crazy, you knot your fingers in his hair and wrap your legs around his back in a silent plea for friction. So hungry for him that it aches.

“Seokjin, need — oh, god.” 

You lose your train of thought the second his hand slides into the gap between your bodies. Long fingers slip below the waistband of your shorts and panties, too. He doesn’t stop there. Not with fingertips whispering over the mound of your cunt, not until he finds you wet and wanting.

So wet that you can hear it when the pad of his index finger runs along your slit.

His mouth curves against your neck, prompting you to shift your head on the pillow. You tilt your neck just enough to meet his eyes. 

To your surprise, he’s not smirking. Not even close. If anything, he looks awestruck. Like he’s finally realizing what he does to you, how your body reacts to him. From the looks of it, that discovery is flipping his whole damn world upside down.

For once, Seokjin doesn’t crack a joke and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your tiny gasping breaths and the ripple of his fingertip swirling over your clit. Even the moan building in your chest gets the memo. It disappears somewhere in your throat when — fucking finally — that middle finger penetrates you.

And god, he sounds so wrecked when he finally speaks. 

“Tried to imagine it a thousand times, you know,” he murmurs. 

You clench around his finger as it curls upwards, shiver when he starts to stroke the sensitive spot along your front wall. His thumb picks up where his middle finger left off, pressing against your clit in a way that makes you mewl.

Seokjin only stops talking to kiss you deep and leave you dizzy. It’s too brief. If asked, you’d never be able to quantify what amount of time is enough, but you know that wasn’t, so you pout.

Ignoring your little whines, he continues with a hum, “How perfect you’d feel, if I ever got this lucky.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You laugh as you say it, but you’re dead serious: “If you keep talking to me like that, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

Marry me, why don’t you? Beautiful bastard.

“Threat or promise?” 

He adds a second finger; and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore. No, the strangled sound you make while you grind against his palm isn’t funny at all, but you can’t care about that now. Your focus is stuck on remembering how to breathe. In, out. On the stars blinking behind your eyelids when they give up and flutter shut.

He works you open for him like he’s already attuned, like it’s the fiftieth time he’s finger-fucked you and not the very first. And, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing how little time it takes for him to pull you apart at the seams.

No one has ever made you cum with such little effort. You’re scared to learn what it’s like when he tries.

You catch the triumphant gleam in his eye in the split second before you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He’s earned it, you suppose, so you’ll let him relish the personal record he’s managed to set on his first time out. You might even let him brag about it, so long as he continues to make you tremble like this.

“Shit,” he chuckles low near your ear. 

If he sounds muffled, it’s because you’re still waiting for your system to reboot. He knows this, knows how fucking sensitive you are, and slides his fingers out of you as slowly as possible. Still, those aftershocks throttle you; the unintentional stimulation makes you jolt.

“Yes,” you nod helplessly, squeezing your eyes and jaw shut simultaneously. “Shit is right. Perfect analysis, no notes.”

A chaste kiss is placed on your temple. It’s petal soft and subak sweet, but it functions like a defibrillator. Within a split second, he’s revived you. Eyes now open again, you exhume your face from where you buried it and blink up at him. Warm brown eyes light up when you reappear.

He’s so fucking beautiful that you almost want to avert your eyes. Key word: almost. You’ll drink in the sight of him until you drown, you think.

Seokjin looks concerned. With a shy smile, he checks in: “You okay? We can stop right now if you’re not.”

You don’t know who they are, but you know that they don’t make them like him anymore. Which is a fucking bummer for the rest of the world — just not for you. This one is all yours.

“You quitting on me, Kim?” You let your knee fall inwards to nudge his side, and you pretend not to notice how boneless you still feel. “Didn’t wait all this time to tap out early, did you?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, nonetheless. His warm palm massages the outside of your thigh affectionately, if only for a moment. Then, he pats his fingertips against the same spot. “Shorts off, champ.”

You follow his instructions and move to shimmy out of them, but not before snorting, “Champ?”

“Fine. Old sport?” He offers with a shit-eating grin. Your shirt smacks him in the face once you peel it off and chuck it at him. He pouts. “Hey!”

“Thanks, I hate it.” 

He tugs his shirt over his head, launches it over his shoulder without looking. Your unabashed stare immediately clocks the slight hint of his abdominal muscles. Lean, but not sharply contoured in a way that looks painful to touch. Soft. Perfect, even.

What lab were you engineered in?

“For someone with so many opinions, you don’t offer many suggestions.” He shoots you a pointed look while he unties the knot at his waistband drawstring. “What’s your proposal?”

You’d love to bite back at him. Really, you would, but he pulls his boxers down alongside his joggers, and every meaningful thought you’ve ever had goes flying out the fucking window. All that’s left is I want you, I want you, I want you.

Automatically, you reach out with a tentative hand, craving nothing more than to feel his velvet length in your hand. To your surprise, he stops you. He catches your hand in his, lifts it to his lips, and brushes a kiss over your knuckles.

“Rain check, baby,” Seokjin smiles against your skin. There it is. That’s the one. “Need to fuck you, posthaste, or I’ll simply pass away.”

You open your mouth to comment; he breezes right past you. He points to the mattress, then to the wall to your left. “On your side, love.”

That works, too.

“Face away from me.”

Never in your life have you moved so fast, all but throwing yourself down where he told you to. As you land with a slight bounce, you mouth to yourself, Posthaste? Nerd.

A second slips by, then Seokjin slips into the space behind you. His lips tickle the back of your neck when he kisses the base of it, causing you to gasp yet again. Maybe that’s just how you breathe when he’s around — like you don’t know how.

His hand drifts down the length of your side, passing over the doughy flesh of your ass. He gives it a squeeze for good measure — because of course he does — but he doesn’t linger, not now.

That hand continues until you feel his fingertips scratch affectionately at the back of your right thigh. He doesn’t need to ask; you lift your leg, allowing your knee to hinge overtop of his hand. Now that his hands are occupied, you offer yours to assist. 

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you wrap your fingers around his length. And fuck, there’s so much of it. Part of you wants to ask where the hell he thinks he’s going to fit all of it, but you’re not a quitter, so you keep your mouth shut. 

Seokjin shivers under your touch, breath catching in his throat so blatantly that you can hear it right behind your ear. 

“Hmmm,” you tease, squeezing the crown gently as you circle your wrist. “Does that work for you, champ?”

His forehead drops against your shoulder. The groan you force out of him is twice as long as necessary, followed by an unwilling laugh. “You’re right, okay? You’re fucking right. It’s awful. Just so fucking bad.”

Your thumb swipes over his leaking tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum waiting for you there. You’re relentless. “Sure you don’t like old sport better? Huh, buddy?”

“Baby,” he warns. There isn’t much heat to it, but it burns white hot in your core anyway.

The stretch of his cock does, too, when you finally stop fucking with him and start letting him fuck you. The breath he holds as he enters you slowly is let out in a shuddered groan when he bottoms out. Perfectly full and fully incapable of teasing him further, you simply melt back against his chest.

He’s careful to start, testing the waters and refusing to push you too far, too fast. You want more, though, you always have. Greedy, you rock your hips back against him to force him deeper into your weeping hole. He takes the hint, fingertips pressing bruises into the underside of your knee as he picks up his pace — and you’re far too blissed to care.

He pistons into you eagerly, deliberate. His hips clap against the flesh of your ass, but the sting of it all can’t compete with the way he splits you open. Makes you reach back to cling to any part of him you can get your hands on, claim whatever you find for keeps. Buried to the hilt, and somehow,  he’s still not close enough.

You’re close, if your fluttering walls have anything to say about it. You’re babbling, too, so lost in pleasure that you can only repeat — over and over — how fucking perfect he is. How perfect for you he is.

Seokjin peppers kisses down the curve of your shoulder as he thrusts. It’s the only real indication you have that he’s at a loss for words, too; that he’s compensating for the quiet. He kisses you with an open mouth, teeth grazing the space he finds, leaves a mess on your sweat-slicked skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts. You mewl. “Can’t stop thinking about —”

“Just like that, please.”

“— how many times I could’ve —”

You wail, “Shit, Seokjin, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

The staccato strokes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. Not when he kisses the back of your neck again, and not when he murmurs directly in your ear, “— had you like this, if I’d said something years ago.”

Please, please, please. 

It’s all you can say, again and again, as if he isn’t already giving you everything you want before you even ask for it. Responding to every movement you make, fucking into you with precision so that each vein of his cock brings friction where you crave it. Fucking you through your orgasm when it catches you in a riptide and sends you reeling.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice is soothing despite the recklessness of his thrusts. “So good for me. So fucking good.”

You’re still gushing when he snaps his hips forward and stills, cock twitching as he lets himself go inside of you. Still trembling when his head droops forward to nuzzle against your shoulder blade, and when you feel his breathing begin to slow in tandem with yours.

Once he pulls himself out of you, a few moments pass in fucked-out silence. It’s comfortable, if you ignore the mess between your thighs — and you do, for now. Your brain is too busy to waste time on that.

You’re exhausted and bordering on delirious when you say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true:

“I might love you, probably.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t move either, which makes you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with his face smushed into your bare back. But you feel the tiniest exhale through his nose; the kind of laugh you get from him when he’s too tired to be any louder.

His reply is muffled, lips still pressed against your skin, but you hear it perfectly.

For the record, he probably loves you, too.

final a/n: i have a follow-up drabble planned for these two! stay tuned 🥰

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @jihopesjoint @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @bbyorchid @persphonesorchid @quarter-life-crisis2 @zelchena @withluvjm @firesighgirl @whatthefsposts @iadelicacy @chimmisbae @cowboylikeyoongi @sailoryooons @axialitae @ugh-yoongi @minholykingofkorea @kookstempo @gimmethatagustd @Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhintothevoid

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[croa861]

omg ...oh ...em ...jee

I am speechless. I am thankful.

Thank you so much for writing, and I love your writing style toooo. This was so romantic and written like a rom-com, ~~~and the steamy scenes were ughhhhhh **toe clenching**~~~, I'm actually squealing and flapping my feet again, I loved itttt.

THIS DESERVES MORE NOTES.

Lately a lot of my fav fic writers have been on hiatus and oh it hurtssssss and I'm soooo starved. This fic gave me hope. After being on Tumblr for as long as I have and being in this kpop fanfic community, I understand that notes are important for writers and I always try to make sure I show my gratitude for yall because yall are HEROES and I don't have a talent in writing but oh do I love reading, and I wanna make sure yall are feeling supported all the time because I do appreciate your hardwork so much. Sorry for the spiel lol ♡

~~~side note: jin is my bias and I'm so particular about my jin fics, but this was amazing, I loved it thxxx

[gimmeurtmi]

tell me — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, sub!minho, can also be seen as switch!minho, fingering, masturbation, kinda forced orgasm, use of “bunny” and "baby", slight overstimulation, unprotected sex. lmk if i forgot something

inspo: what i've been told is called "minho's selective babygirlism".

notes: my class was so boring i wrote this instead. i'm in a sub!minho brainrot recently, here's one of many thoughts that have haunted me lately.

{ wc: 2165 }

the door opens with a huff and shuts with a louder groan. you pause your show and make your way over to the entrance, finding a very annoyed looking minho by your doorstep. 

he takes his time taking off his shoes, rolling his head from one side to the other before he finally places his keys in the little bowl by the door. 

when he looks up and sees you he spares no words, simply brings his face into your neck and sighs heavily. 

“long day?” you soothe, bringing your fingers into his hair and massaging his scalp lightly. he hums softly in response, more of his weight falling on your shoulders. you brace into him, holding him up as best you can. 

“they’re like little children,” he mumbles.

“how do you mean?” you try and prompt, pushing away from him to have a conversation face to face. but minho whines as soon as you move away, moving closer to you as his hands trap you against him. 

you give up easily, wrapping your hands around him. 

“i had to nitpick every little thing and they kept asking so many questions. it’s like they wouldn’t know how to walk if i didn’t tell them left foot then right foot,” he sighs again. 

“have you had any food?” he nods into your neck. “okay, go shower and then we can have a quiet night. sounds good?” 

“come with me,” he whines. 

“of course.” 

minho laces your fingers together as he drags you into the bathroom. his bottom lip slowly falls down into a pout as he looks at you, unmoving. 

this kind of minho doesn’t show up a lot—but you can tell from his pout and his slouched shoulders what he needs from you. 

“okay, bunny, hands up,” you chuckle at him, and he complies. you peel his shirt off his body, unable to stop your eyes from drinking him in. you lean down and plant a small kiss on the swell of his chest. there’s a hint of a smile on his face, but when you step away from him his eyebrows frown along with his bottom lip. 

he tugs on the waistband of his sweats and whines softly. 

“yes?” you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on your lips. 

he taps you on your shoulder, his eyes so big in front of you. it’s hard to say no to him when he looks at you like that. 

so you grab the waistband of his sweats and pull them down, unable to stop yourself from squeezing his bare thighs. at that he giggles. 

“alright stop being a baby now and go wash up,” you peck his lips and he chases your lips for one more. 

then he asks, “can you stay here and tell me about your day?” 

so you close the toilet seat and sit on top of it, telling him all about your day as the soft stream of the shower accompanies your words. 

once you’re settled into the bed—minho insisting he can’t possibly dress his own self—you find minho curled up into your side, sighing happily. 

“you feel better now?” 

he hums in affirmation. “i’m just so sick of telling people what to do.” 

“it’s your job, min,” you try to comfort, “and it’s your job for a reason.” 

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m just tired.” 

“then you can rest now, my love,” you promise, sealing that promise with a kiss to the top of his head. his hair is still slightly damp, not dry enough to fall into the straight strands it’s usually in. it’s curly and long and your fingers tangle inside it. 

“don’t cut your hair,” you say, “keep it like this a little longer.”

“you didn’t say please,” he smirks against your skin. 

“that’s because it wasn’t a request,” you say simply. 

minho looks up, eyes slightly gaped. 

“it’s not really my choice when to cut it,” he excuses. 

“like anyone can tell lee minho what to do,” you scoff. 

“you just did?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“i’m not anyone,” you shrug. 

minho moves around until he’s practically on top of you, face buried in your neck as you massage his scalp some more. 

after a few moments you feel his lips opening, and you think he’s going to say good night, but instead he sucks on the skin of your neck, nibbling slightly before planting a few soft kisses. 

“can i help you?” you mumble. 

he doesn’t reply, instead creeping his hands under your shirt. they’re cold to the touch which makes you squirm slightly, and minho mumbles out a “stay still.” 

“i won’t stay still when you’re literally a freezer,” you groan. 

“stop moving and just let me kiss my girlfriend,” he says, voice commanding. 

you catch his wrists, moving his hands away from your body and anchoring them beside your head.

by all standards you are trapped underneath him. he could easily break free from your hold and get back to what he was doing—what he allegedly wanted to be doing. but as soon as his eyes connect with yours you see something swimming inside them. a hint of want, and a small plea. 

you know minho well enough to understand the silence that takes over. 

“don’t tell me what to do, minho,” you say, voice (luckily) steady. minho raises his eyebrows. 

“i was just kissing you,”

“did i tell you to?” 

he swallows visibly, hesitant before he shakes his head. 

“exactly,” you click your tongue. 

“is there,” he hesitates before speaking on, “is there something else i should do?” 

you bring his hand to your lips, long enough to plant three small kisses before you say, “put your freezing hands somewhere warmer.”

minho’s ears turn pink. “where?” 

you guide his hand all the way down your body and tuck it into your shorts. 

minho reacts instantly, moving his fingers against your underwear slowly. 

“put your fingers inside me, min,” you sigh. 

your shorts and your underwear disappear quickly, and minho sinks one finger inside you. 

“more,” you moan. 

“i don’t want to—“

“—i didn’t ask what you want,” you say firmly. minho gasps softly. “i want more.” 

minho nods quickly before adding another finger, the stretch feeling so good your eyes flutter shut. 

you let the moans spill out your mouth as he pumps his fingers inside you, your hands tug on his hair as you pull him closer to you. 

his eyes sink into yours, so full of want, and his lips connect with yours. 

you tug on his hair hard enough to pull him away from the kiss. 

“why?” he whines. 

“i didn’t tell you to,” you say simply. 

“y/n,” he pouts, “i wanna kiss you.” 

“make me cum first,” 

minho’s eyebrows dip in determination, his fingers dragging in and out of you quickly as he bumps his thumb against your clit. it only takes minho a few more moments before you’re moaning out his name, your walls squeezing around his fingers. 

you swallow in as much air as you can before you pull minho into your lips, kissing sloppily around his tongue. 

he moans softly into the kiss, grabbing your hips and rolling his own against you. 

you can feel how hard he is, and you can tell he’s desperate when he starts rutting against you. 

you flip the pair of you around and climb into his lap, minho groaning when your wetness touches him. 

“ride me, bunny,” he mumbled against your lips, manoeuvring around to pull his sweats off. 

you pull away from the kiss and stop him. 

“minho,” you say firmly. 

he looks at you, eyebrows high, a question mark drawing on his forehead. 

“ride me,” he says again, strict. 

“i’m not one of your dancers,” 

minho’s breath shakes. 

“but i—“ 

“stop wasting your pretty voice, yeah?” you kiss his cheek lightly, “you’re not gonna get what you want that way.” 

“you’re mine,” he reminds you. 

“you’re mine,” you counter. 

he all but whimpers. 

“i made you cum,” he tries. 

“and you’re so good at doing as you’re told,” you smile softly, brushing the hair out of his eyes. 

minho isn’t too sure how to react. so he nods. 

“i’m so hard, baby,” he whines, letting his head fall back against the pillows. his grip on your hips is so tight you know he could overpower you in a second. but he doesn’t move. 

“show me?” minho blinks. “show me your pretty dick, bunny.” 

minho licks his lips and nods slowly, tugging his clothes off far enough to pull his dick out. he can’t stop himself from squeezing, his thumb rolling over the tip lightly. 

“so you’re gonna do all the work?” you ask, head tilted slightly. 

“i, i’m just so—“ 

“go on, pretty boy, touch yourself,” you kiss his cheek again. minho’s eyes avert away from you, ears so red as he starts doing exactly as you asked him too. 

you know the praise gets to his head fast, and so you focus your eyes on his movements, kissing his cheek between his moans. 

“you look so fucking good right now,” you say softly, “you’re so desperate, aren’t you?” 

“kiss me,” he asks, softly, his head angled up and just impossible to resist. but you’re having too much fun. 

“no,” you say, dodging his attempt to capture your lips in his. 

“please,” he whines. but you ignore him. you’ve noticed his movements are much faster now, erratic, and so you know your plan is working. 

“kiss me,” he whines again, “kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”  

“minho,” you soothe, bringing your hands to his thighs. you feel them contract at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “you’re close?”

“please,” he begs, “so close, just fucking kiss me.” 

“you’re wasting your pretty voice again,” you tut. minho groans so loudly in response. 

you place a hand on his shoulder, bracing slightly as you sink down onto him with no warning whatsoever. his eyes shoot open, his hand quickly letting go of his dick as you feel him slide all the way inside you. 

he hugs you close to him, groaning and huffing into your neck. 

“fuck, fuck, don’t move,” he says, so you do–slowly bouncing up and down. “no, fuck, no.” 

he holds the back of your neck, moaning loudly as he cums inside you much earlier than he would’ve wanted. he bucks his hips up a few times before he settles, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in the euphoric feeling. 

you kiss his lips softly, and after a few pecks minho starts kissing you back. 

“baby,” he sighs, “please.” 

you chuckle at him, “what is it?” 

“tell me how to make you cum,” he whimpers, “tell me.” 

“i want your cock, bunny,” you say delicately, daring. but minho just nods, and starts thrusting into you slowly. he whines from the oversensitivity, his eyes glazing over from the pleasure before rolling to the back of his head, but when you tell him to go faster he complies instantly. 

“i’m not gonna last long like this,” he complains.

“you will,” you moan softly, “you’ve been fucking me so good, min. you’re not gonna stop.” 

your words encourage him further, the pair of you moaning against each other as minho finally follows your every order. 

he follows your orders so diligently that he even manages to hold off until you cum first, and then he’s spilling inside you again before he can warn you. but you don’t mind that much. 

minho crawls into your side again, his quick breath tickling your neck as you both calm down. you turn around to face him, kissing his cheek again and again until his eyes flutter open. 

he smiles softly at you, lazy. 

“you make my brain go so quiet, you know?” 

“is that your way of admitting you’re dumb?” you chuckle at him, and if he was in any other state of mind you would’ve got a death stare to rival medussa. but minho just giggles. 

“i love you,” he mumbles.

“i love you,” you link your hands together, watching as he snuggles even closer to you, “you make my brain go quiet, too.” 

minho smiles at that, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“don’t fall asleep while we’re both covered in cum though, i don’t love you that much.” 

minho groans before getting up quickly and going to fetch a towel from the bathroom, cleaning the pair of you up. he then grabs some water from the kitchen, opening the bottle for you and watching you drink. 

after he drinks what’s left, he cuddles back into your warmth, making sure the blanket covers all of you before he snuggles into your chest. 

you ask him to wake you up before he leaves. in the morning he has breakfast ready for the both of you and he reminds you not to forget your coat before he kisses you goodbye. 

[spookyji]

kai in a gaming chair jerking off to you while on ft with you while he’s wearing one of his hoodies. watching as his cum paints his hoodie white. his hood falling off as he throws his head back.

ok but even better ??

perv gamer!kai who’s on a discord call with you n he’s such a perv that he gets turned on just by your pretty voice, can’t help it he hears it in his dreams, dirty dreams, pervy dreams, oh, kai can’t help it anymore >< and so kai who accidentally leaves his cam on, thinking he’s not showing his video but watching yours (sorry he’s a dummy he’s just too whipped to remember), seeing you perched in your gaming chair, generous, plush thighs with shorts on and he’s a goner >< and kai who’s trying to follow the conversation… and not knowing you’re seeing him palm his crotch, delicious big bulge and his hoodie not covering it~? in 1080p, watching as kai fumbles with his sound, playing game noises and bgm louder as you chat, blaming it on his roommates being loud, it’s all bs. and pervy gamer!kai whose avatar moves weirdly in game… while he jerks off to your pretty voice and cam, his big hand wrapped around his shaft as he pants and mumbles soft moans, barely audible.. and not knowing you can see every bit of it.

his sweaty bangs, hood on lopsided, lips parted… big, stiff cock clenched in his hand as he pants, trying to get himself off, precum dripping all over~ and shh, kai’s such a perv, so distracted when you purposely let out such a pretty, soft moan when you bite your lip, watching his breath hitch as he finally mutes himself, jerking himself off faster until his cum spurts on his hoodie and sweatpants, such a mess he’s made… and telling him you know he’s jerking off, shouldn’t mute himself, you wanted to hear >< and kai who goes bright pink… so give him a little bit of a strip tease… and put one of the plushies he’s mailed you between your thighs, right up against your visibly wet, cute panties, all for him to watch… hand still on his cock <3

[spookyji]

mille’s soobin thoughts~

soft dom!soobin and his size n dollification n breeding kinks, who loves that he’s so much bigger than you and finds your reliance on him so endearing;; treating you like his princess, finding domestic happiness in doing everything for you, from offering his hand whenever you stand up to choosing your outfits, even lacing up your shoes for you. and there’s something so sweet about it to him, brushing your hair in the morning and running a warm bath at night, gently lathering your skin, a saccharine smile decorating his heart shaped lips.

and so on the rare occasion, buying lingerie to wear for him in secret, attempting to put it on only for it to be more complicated than expected, a string caught somewhere and knotted elsewhere;; it’s such a mess. until soobin comes home earlier than expected, a blush dusting his cheeks at the sight of such cute lingerie on you, his princess a little tangled up because you simply can’t do it without him. soobin’s erection against your plush ass, gently helping you as you sit in his lap, he’s already so turned on just by how sweet the thought was, but it’s even more of a turn on at how he can help you, dressing you up properly in the lingerie. soft dom!soobin who takes his time, he knows he’s very large and can’t be impatient, gently sliding aside your soaked panties. the rest of the lingerie stays on, his breath warm on your sweet folds. one hand laced with yours, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence, gently teasing the soft skin as the wet muscle dips in and out of your cunny, so attentive to your every reaction, cute whines and whimpers music to his ears. cum on his tongue, and he’ll reward you by sliding his massive fingers into your tight pussy, so small for his long digits, folds cutely clinging to his fingers as they pump in and out of your cunny. his broad frame over yours, curling his fingers right at your sweet spot, sounds of your juices cutely squelching at how drenched you are for him, soobin’s heart shaped lips pressed against for forehead as he whispers endless praises, how good his sweet love is, pretty taking his fingers so, so well, so perfect.

soobin who pushes in so, so slowly, his lips on your nipple and gently suckling to distract from such a stretch, a bit painful at first because he’s just so big. a wet spot on the lace of your bra from his saliva before gently tugging off the garment, slowly and only on one side, he can’t ruin the sanctity of it, gently kneading and sucking your tits, he’s all love and care when he mumbles reassurances, how well you’re doing to take him, murmurs of love when he finally bottoms out, pressing kisses all over your face to help relax around his massive cock. clinging to his back and solving as he fucks you, gradually increasing his pace as he lovingly admired how well your small cunt takes him, every vein rubbing against your sensitive cunny and tip kissing your cervix, so cute how your small hands touch the bulge in your tummy. soobin who gently fondles your breasts while thrusting into your little swollen cunny, lingerie all messed up all over your pretty body, admiring the plush softness of your curves with his adoring hands, soft pants mixed with your sweet whimpers. clinging to him and tugging him closer, one hand lifting your leg so he can angle deeper, lost in a haze of love and lust, so pleasured but even more aroused by your pleasure, the cute squeak when gaze down to see his massive cock splitting you open. soobin who cums so much and so heavily, embracing his princess as you let out a teary whines, it’s just too much n feels too full, his whispers that you can do it, can take all his seed n love, right? and oh dear, he’s made such a mess of his pretty darling, lingerie all disheveled, puffy cunny dripping with his cum, nipples swollen with his adoring suckles, oh, it just turns him on even more~ let him make love to you again~? he’s so, so aroused by how you’re so full of his cum n so full it’s spilling out, he has to fill you all up again, n again, n again, pretty doll in cum stained lingerie, can’t even rewear again~ so let him? soobin promises he’ll take care of you, as he’s easing his cock back into your cum drenched cunny, whispering that it’s okay, his pretty darling can take more, okay?

and i wonder why i can’t sleep LOL true promoter of soobin n breeding kink ahaha

[croa861]

filthy good

[spookyji]

hmmm...ok what about sex at an award show with soobin...I feel like he would be a little skeptical cause he's the leader, but hes just too much of a horny puppy. I love your works btw!! <3333

# soobin + messy blowjob !!

tw. gender neutral!reader, marking, blowjob. nsfw + minors dni !!

a/n. eeeep, first attempt at gn!reader, wrote this in like 30 min >< not proofread + written on phone.

taglist. @kosmoreads

##############################

“sweetheart—haah—n-not here!” soobin gasps, hands greedily grasping at your waist, back to the wall of the dressing room, his neat suit quickly coming undone under your needy fingers. “cant help it,” you whine, pressing a kiss to his neck, narrowly missing the collar of his dress shirt, “look too handsome~” “wh-what if—sees–“ putting up a weak resistance, his hesitation contrasted by the desperate hands around your sides, breathy pants breaking the air as your fingers deftly unbutton his dress shirt, exposing his pure skin to the cold air. “so needy,” you whisper, before biting dark roses of kisses on his pale chest, only encouraged by his whines of need. “n—c-can’t mark!” soft moans combined with wet sucking sounds, sharp intakes of breaths at the sudden nips, blooming marks aggressively over his flawless skin, “nngh—more!” moans filling your ears, lost in a haze of deprivation, thighs clenched together as your lips meet his pretty pecs, licking and brushing dangerously close to his sensitive nipples, fingers finding the silk of his tie.

a deft tug and it’s in your fingers, his suit jacket falling of his shoulders as you lean back, observing your work, licking your lips. panting unevenly, lips parted in an intake of breath, pretty chest splotchy in dark red-purple marks of love, shirt unbuttoned messily. and he’s so attractive for it. “m-missed this—mmph!” only a fraction of his words leaving before your lips find his, hands pushing his wrists behind his back. straining erection pressed to your abdomen, only a quick loop and tug before you giggle and take a step back, the aroused daze on soobin’s flushed face only further enhanced by the look of shock crossing his eyes as his hands jerk at the restraints behind his back. “s-sweetheart, c-can’t touch this way!” soobin mumbles, blush darkening at your mischievous smile, a sheen of saliva coating your lips. “now you’re all mine~” you giggle, “can’t get away until i untie you.” and he knows he’s doomed, watching your gaze fall to the prominent bulge in his near dress pants, the hazy, greedy look of hunger in your eyes. “w-wait, n-not ready!” soobin gasps as you kneel daintily in front of him, pretty fingers finding the buckle of his belt—and here he is, cornered by his darling lover in the dressing room of an award show, only minutes away from returning to the flurry of cameras.

with a tug of the zipper and underwear, his massive length exposed to the cold air, a darkening pink at the tip, practically begging for your lips to take it, to relieve the intense need expressed in how painfully hard he was. pretty sheen of sweat lacing his forehead as he desperately pants, hands bound behind his back in his silk tie. collared shirt haphazardly unbuttoned, pale chest splotchy in purple-red kiss marks, belt undone and buckle clinking with his every twitch. the salty taste of his precum coats your tongue as you lick the tip of his cock, swirling around it, a line of saliva hanging between his sensitive length and your lips as you take a break before diving back in. “aghh—sweetheart—so c-close!” soobin whine as your slides tongue down the shaft of his cock, the tip kissing the back of your throat as you deepthroat him, bobbing your head and listening to his weak whimpers, his hands clawing at their restraints as he approaches his climax.

“d-darling—w-want to cum!” soobin moans lewdly, his voice soaked in need as you teasingly scrape your teeth along his length, hands pumping his cock where your mouth cannot reach. humming around his dick in acknowledgement, your hollow your cheeks, tipping him over the edge as you suck his length, triggering a high pitched whimper, cum flooding into your mouth, so much so that some drips out of your lip, white against the soft pink. savoring the salty taste of his cum, you swallow around his cock, not having pulled off.

“h-huh? sw-sweethea—hnng!” soobin gasps, an obscene sob breaking free as you suck harder on his sensitive cock, aggressively continuing to bob your head. “agh—wait—feels!” he moans incoherently, overwhelmed by your warm tongue and mouth spoiling his dick, precum leaking into your mouth as his length quickly stiffens. pulling off and peppering the length in kisses, you lick long stripes up his cock, before ravishing the tip, precum salty as you bob your head, coating the pink tip in your saliva and his cum. “nn—can’t hold—“ making eye contact with his weeping and sweaty, face, you suck hard. instantly, cum drenches your face as you pull off with a pop, ropes of white dripping down your pretty features as soobin moans uncontrollably, clenched yet trembling from the sensation. “we’re not done yet,” you smirk, teasingly licking cum that had landed on your lip, watching as soobin grows increasingly flustered, “i’m nowhere near done with you.”

##############################

had to write this, it’s a soobin day n maybe not my best but i had to ><

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 25. (epilogue)

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 2,350

warnings/includes (!) a proposal 🥰

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON THREE ⇤ previous | 

Keep reading

[kookingtae]

i will love you til the end of time ♡

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 13.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 9,788

warnings/includes (!) mention of parent death, there’s confessions!!!! one brief moment of being body conscious, hints of brat tamer! Jin just for fun AND! IT’S TIME! Sex, they have sex! passionate sex!!!! kissing, lots of kissing, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, penetrative sex 

⟶ ao3 link

note; you didn’t think I could be that evil, did you?? It’s finally happening!!! And I hope you enjoy :’) I know I did! 

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON TWO ⇤ previous | next ⇥

Keep reading

[croa861]

The moment I've been waiting for my entire life has finally come, and luckily so have they 😏

Hehehehheh I feel like a fucking fiend 👹

THANK YOU

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 12.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 7,404

warnings/includes (!) healthy communication, we love to see it, a “first” date, and I’m sorry, but I’m hitting you with another cliffhanger (next chapter I will make it up to you I PROMISE 👀) 

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON TWO ⇤ previous | next ⇥

Keep reading

[croa861]

Tough shit.

[floralseokjin]

⤑ 9 months to fall in love 11.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 9,120

warnings/includes (!) Seokjin’s mom plays matchmaker 😬, as Yuna will say it’s one step forward, two steps backwards this chapter, but we still have cute moments, one (1) public erection, very mild angst(?) more like a little melodrama, a small mildly evil cliff hanger because it’s been a while 

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON TWO ⇤ previous | next ⇥ 

Keep reading

[croa861]

👀