Untimely Confessions

Untimely Confessions

word count: 5,507 note: neighbor au w/ seokjin. that is all.

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park’s girl

↬ pairing: min yoongi x reader 

↝ genre: basketball captain!yoongi, photographer!reader, e2l | smut, fluff

↳ summary: you really don’t like basketball, but yearbook duty calls.

✎ word count: 6k, lowkey

☞ warnings: closet sex, unprotected sex (plz be safe, y’all)

A/N: This is my first fic so I’m terrified, but I’m trying to put myself out of my comfort zone so here we go. also, there’s closet sex so yeah… another thing, basketball team captain!yoongi so there’s that.

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Lovers’ Paradox.

Every time he gloats over you, you just want to punch him in the face to shut him up. With your fist or maybe with your mouth. You still aren’t quite sure which one to use yet. Possibly both.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: comedy, slight angst, fluff type: enemies to lovers + police au word count: 10,542 words warnings: a bunch of sexual innuendos author’s note: happy birthday to my mean ho, pablo, fellow yoongi appreciator, and the bestest friend in the entire universe @zephyoongist​ (i have a longer note for you at the bottom!)

➵ bangtan police unit: a collab with @gukstudio​

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Lieutenant Min Yoongi had stationed himself at his desk for three hours already, starting from when he came in at six a.m. sharp, and practically inhaled the coffee he had bought from the quaint hole in the wall cafe near his apartment. Despite already downing the largest cup he could order from the shop, he no longer felt the effects of the extra shots of expresso and was forced to drink the watered-down version offered at his workplace. With more caffeine than actual rivulets of carmine running through his veins, Yoongi practically fuels his sleep deprived body with lethal doses of the stale and caustic coffee provided at the Bangtan Police Station.

The crisp sheets of paper from the latest case file he is examining are spread out across his desk in somewhat of a disarray, the original order he had put it in four hours ago now long gone, as he continuously rifles around for certain tidbits of information that can piece the solution together. Picking up what is now his third cup of coffee, he mumbles a variation of curses under his breath when he sees that he had been using the case’s manila folder as a coaster, glaring disdainfully at the blatant brown ring staining the front of the file. He is beginning to lose feeling in his backside, and his mind toys with the thought of taking a nap in one of the cots set up in the backroom. Yet, he cannot take his eyes away from the evidence laid out in front of him; the solution is right there—he can feel it beneath his fingertips as he trails them across the ridged papers and the dark ink.

Three rapid knocks are heard against the glass of his office door, and Yoongi looks up to see Hoseok—his second-in-command sergeant and long-time police partner—enter the room, nervously biting his lower lip. A deeper crease forms between his furrowed eyebrows as Yoongi takes one glance at the worried and tense expression adorning Hoseok’s ordinarily cheery face. He finally speaks up, his voice cracking slightly from disuse. “What is it, Hoseok?”

“Organized Crime sent their sergeant here to work on that case with you.” Hoseok gestures towards the opened file. “Apparently, it’s connected to a string of gang induced murders they’ve been tracking, and—”

“Oh, fuck, no.” Yoongi interrupts, rubbing his temples as he closes his eyes. “Please don’t tell me it’s—”

“Guess I’m stuck with you again. I’d say it’s a pleasure to work with you again, but it really isn’t, so let’s just cut the crap and get straight to it, pretty boy.”

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photobooth | knj

Summary: You never knew fucking in a photobooth, while all your friends are on the other side, could be this sweet. University AU! Porn with like 30% plot.

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader ft. Jaebum

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: excessive swearing as usual, namjoon being soft and cute as shit because that is a warning in itself, jealous possessive sex, also a jealous namjoon, soft dom namjoon, sub reader, public sex, exhibitionism, fingering, joonie with his sinful mouth aka dirty talk, joon’s giant schlong, camera sex, technical porno-graphy (they take pics of them fucking), finger sucking, joon’s wicked tongue aka eating pussy, blowjob, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, cum eating, cum play, handjob, degredation (use of slut), cum swallowing, gagging + choking (on cock), riding, penetrative sex, slight? pain kink, namjoon with A* stamina, creampie, cum feeding

A/N: There is actually only about 30% plot in this, I did the math. But also, please don’t ask me where this depraved fantasy was bred from because honestly, I have no words or excuses for the complete filth I just wrote.

It’s not very often that you find yourself partying. It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in it; it was more than you were partied out. Kind of sad and pathetic for someone who was still in their third year of university but it was the truth. You had practically exhausted yourself (and your bank account) during your first two years of university, attending every club night, house party and drinking related college event that you could. You were still known across campus as the first year girl who downed an entire bottle of tequila before stealing some traffic cones (causing several issues with traffic the next day) just so you could use the said cones as party hats for the various statues littered around your campus.

That day had practically gone down in history.

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yoongi scenario | stuck on you

❝ While wrapping gifts you end up super gluing your hand to Yoongi’s… not completely on accident… ❞

➸ prompt: I can’t wrap Christmas presents to save my life, but you’re amazing at it. Please help me!

➸ pairing: yoongi x reader

➸ requested by anon | 3.2k words | fluff, neighbour au

Why is gift wrapping so difficult? Why is wrapping paper so flimsy? Why are gifts such irregular shapes? Why is sellotape so hard to cut? And why is the whole palaver such an embarrassment when you can’t do it properly, crossing the corridor to the apartment across from yours with shamed red cheeks, as you knock on the door and ask desperately, “Could you possibly help me? I might have tied my hands together with ribbon…”

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