What You Did Last Summer (m).
⇾ what you did last summer (m).

⇁ female reader x yoongi
⇁ smut, trophy wife!au
⇁ slowburn, dom!yoongi, age difference, consensual non-monogamy, power imbalance, semi-public sex, objectification, face-fucking, derogatory language and possessive behavior during sex, creampie, cum marking, unsafe sex, everyone is kind of slutty, not as wildt as warnings may imply
⇁ unnecessarily long for a pwp. 33.8k. phew.
…
Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.
What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.
No, that was where he drew the line.
↳ alternatively titled; How to Get Dick - an autobiography written by (you)

author’s note | while this fic does contain a semblance of plot, the focus is more on characterization which i understand can make for a boring read. also note that i have done (0) research and despite having owned a pool, still to this day do not know how to clean one.
written for 1 of my closest friends @tayegi as the most belated bday gift to have ever been gifted. ily :( ty for having passionate naruto-related discussions w/ me at 6am. u r the real deal !
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More Posts from P34rluv
the pink pill | myg version (m) — “no one else”

➥ banner by @jkndigo.

➥ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn with plot ⋆ exes

➥ CATEGORY: one-shot [part of the pink pill series]

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, angst, exes but also idiots, degradation kink, unprotected sex (dont be like them), rough sex but also love-making??, did i mention a bit of angst, multiple positions guys yoongi is catching up for missing u all those times likeee, spankingggg, making out w tongue, overstimulation, claiming/possessiveness, multiple orgasms for reader, extremelyhorny!reader, cocky exboyfriend!yoongi…. yeah., hes a sick son of a bitch but thats why we like him besides he’s pretty tame in this i have worse yoongi’s up my sleeve this is nothin, neither of you have moved on, mutual pining but mutual STUBBORNNESSSSS for fucks sake, filthy words, creampie, oral sex (f. rec), embarrassingly quick climaxes likeee, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 9.8k

a/n: and at last, yoongi’s ver of the pink pill is finally out!!! thank you for loving jk’s version! i hope you enjoy yoongi’s. beware of a bit of angst and complicated feelings<33

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆
⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

Your trembling thumb hovers over the blue arrow next to your unsent message, eyes scanning over the message over and over again. Your heart might implode in your chest the moment you hit send, which is why you’ve been staring at the message that would cause more cons than pros for the past 5 minutes.
Well, would it, though? It’s just a favor. You need a favor.
It’s like your brain is talking directly to your heart. Your brain is telling you how bad of an idea this is whilst your heart is just rolling its non-existent eyes at the nagging, as if your heart isn’t about to slide up your airways into your esophagus, travel straight up your burning throat and launch out of your mouth. You need to calm down.
The aggravating lump in your throat doesn’t let up.
And that’s when the pad of your thumb impulsively hits the damn blue arrow that’s been mockingly staring at you for the past few minutes.
[11:12PM]
from: You
to: Ignore
can you come over
Once the small letters that say ‘delivered’ pop up under your blue message, you internally scream into the void. Your eyes stay glued to your phone, the back of your phone is becoming slimy in your grasp due to the sweat your palms are rapidly producing.
You barely blink as you stare at the screen, your lips twitching as you wait and attempt to ignore the anxiety bubbling in your chest.
Your gaze slowly shifts upwards on the conversation, rereading old messages. The last you heard from him was 4 months ago. The two of you broke up around 9 months ago but still slept together for a good 2-3 months after.
The last message between you two from 4 months ago was you asking him when he could come pick up the rest of his shit. He came, picked up his shit and that’s when you last saw him. You barely exchanged any words. You had anticipated having sex one last time but he just wordlessly collected his stuff and left.
So, it’s understandable why you’d be so worried about asking him to come over and… well, ask him if he can fuck the shit out of you.
Your heart plummets into the pit of the earth when you notice the ‘delivered’ has turned into ‘read 11:13PM’.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
He’s not responding.
Why is he not responding?
One minute passes. Two minutes pass. Three minutes. Four.
You’ve been staring at your phone the entire time and not once did the bubble that indicates he’s typing pop up.
What if he doesn’t even want to talk to you?
Fuck.
What the fuck were you even thinking?
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
After cleaning up the coffee table that was covered in snacks and empty cans that you used to take your mind off the excruciating arousal pooling in your core, you start heading into your once-shared bedroom with your head held down. It’s been 12 minutes since you sent that message and you haven’t gotten a response.
You’re a damn loser.
You plan to start slipping out of your plain shirt and shorts, cringing when you realize you’ve completely soaked through your cotton shorts. How fucking embarrassing. What the hell is in that pill?
Right as your fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts to pull them down your legs, you hear a rhythmic knock on your front door.
What? Who could…
Wait.
It possibly couldn’t be.
The lump returns to your throat at lightning speed as you start heading down your corridor, sluggishly dragging your feet across the floor.
You press your hand flat against the door in an attempt to gather your thoughts and collect your breath before you slowly start opening up, his familiar feline eyes staring at you with an agitated look pooling in them.
“What do you want?” He doesn’t even have the decency to greet you, he just stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.
You quietly swallow as you cross your arms over your chest, stepping to the side to wordlessly invite him in. When he gives you a raised eyebrow in confusion, you say, “I don’t need my neighbors hearing my business.”
The exasperated sigh he lets out slightly stings but he walks in nonetheless. You close the door behind him but he’s showing no intentions or moves to take his shoes off. He just stands in front of the door, annoyance draped over his features.
You silently stare up at him, hoping he doesn’t notice your strange demeanor.
“So? Are you gonna tell me what you want or are you just gonna stare at me and continue to waste my time?” His words are blunt and brutal—the bitterness that he still holds in his heart for you hasn’t left him, it seems.
You finally find the courage to speak up and quietly say, “I need a favor, Yoongi.”
He blankly stares at you for a few moments before he humorlessly laughs at your request, dropping his head and shaking his head in disbelief.
You can’t help but glare at his reaction, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and spew insulting words at him. This is kind of selfish of you.
“Why would I do you a favor?” he asks once he’s stopped laughing, staring you down with hooded eyelids and no traces of mock amusement left on his face.
“I’ll owe you,” you say, failing to hide the clear annoyance in your tone. You want to strangle him.
“You already owe me.” His response is almost immediate, leaving you speechless for a few seconds as you stare up at him with a frown etched onto your brows.
“Excuse me? What the fuck do I owe you?”
He tilts his head to the side with an irritated look on his face before he says, “I don’t know, you wasted 3 years of my fucking life?”
You exaggeratedly roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head in exasperation. “I could quite literally say the same to you.”
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his intense stare down never letting up.
He decides to ignore your remark and repeats, “What do you want, Y/N?”
You swallow again, looking to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze as you think about how the fuck you’re going to ask him what you want to ask him.
How do you even begin to ask?
Hey, you haven’t heard from me in months but could you fuck me real quick?
“What? Do you need money?” he asks in a neutral tone, although you can sense the concern tinged in his words.
“No,” you mumble, the collar of your shirt is starting to feel like it’s closing in around the perimeter of your neck with the goal of suffocating you.
He continues, “Then what? An alibi?”
You throw your head back in exasperation as you groan, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
It’s quiet for a moment and it makes you look at him. You notice he’s staring straight at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on and what you aren’t telling him.
“Need some lovin’?” he asks with a certain humorous tone, the joke causing you to glance up at him through your lashes with big eyes.
It seems like only then that he takes notice of your swollen lips, your dilated pupils, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead and the quickened breathing with the way his eyes scan your entire face and the frown on his brows slowly disappearing when the realization dawns on him.
He narrows his eyes at you and his hands leave his pockets, swiftly moving to cross over his chest as his lips twitch, something you can only describe as him trying to stifle a smirk. “You actually asked me to come over so I could come fuck you?”
Your mind travels at incomprehensible speed to come up with an answer, leaving you scrambled and almost stuttering. You blurt out, “It’s your fault.”
This makes his brows pinch together in utter confusion. “How the hell is it my fault?”
A deep sigh pushes past your lips as you drop your arms from your chest, hands resting on your hips as you look at the floor in shame. “I was cleaning shit up and I came across that dumb pink pill you bought that you wanted me to try but never got the chance to,” you explain, peeking up at him through your lashes momentarily before averting your gaze again.
“Pill? What pink pill?” he repeats, the frown on his face deepening further as the word leaves his mouth.
“Yes, that stupid pink pussycat pill, Yoongi. We bought it as a joke to try on our anniversary but then we had that stupid fight.” You try to get him to recall the events of a year ago, the quick wince on his face at the mention of your anniversary fight doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Anyway, I didn’t want it to go to waste and I was wondering what it might feel like or if it even works. So, I took it earlier today, for shits and giggles.”
He slowly nods to your words as the memories come back to him, seemingly remembering how excited he was for you to take that pill. “So, I reckon the pill is doing what it said it would?”
You merely grunt in response.
He’s silent for a few seconds before quietly chuckling, shaking his head. His chuckle is so deep and sultry, it shoots a tingle right down your soaked panties.
You huff, “What’s so amusing, you dickhead?”
He glances at you through his brows for a moment before averting his gaze, his eyes roaming his surroundings as he looks around your once-shared home. “I’m just flattered, is all.”
“Flattered?” you repeat, a disapproving frown on your features. He’s turning this entire thing into a compliment for himself.
You really can’t fucking stand him.
“You could’ve flaunted that pretty face out at some bar and gotten someone to fuck you without needing to offer any favors,” he explains, giving you a glimpse of his thought process, those words making your body heat up all over again.
Damn him.
You know Yoongi has always found you insanely attractive but him so nonchalantly reminding you has set your insides aflame.
“You know I don’t do that stuff,” you mumble with a shake to your head.
His bitter, humorless chuckle booms in your ears. Why does it sound like he’s literally inside your head? “That’s exactly how we met, you dirty liar.” He reminds you of how his hips were slamming into yours an hour after you met him and no rebuttal comes to your mind.
You silently stare at him, bringing your hand up to wipe some of the sweat off your hairline with the back of your index finger.
“Yeah, you know what? I don’t know why I even texted you. You can leave,” you say, a surge of anger coursing through your veins as you reach for the door handle but Yoongi is quicker than you.
His hand quickly reaches for yours, fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist. “I can tell you why you did,” he quips, cockily.
You glare up at him but make no effort to remove his hand from your skin, the single touch of his skin against yours sends lava down all your veins and every single one of your nerve-endings. Fuck, you wish you could pounce him right fucking now. You finally gather your thoughts and say, “Oh, please, do enlighten me.”
“You asked me here because you don’t want all that arousal to go to waste on someone that doesn’t know your body like I do.” He starts closing the gap between you two, face closing in on yours. “They won’t do the things you like.”
Your throat tightens at his proximity and his words, your lungs seconds away from imploding in between your ribcage.
“And you’re too shy to tell them because you know you like filthy things.” He moves his other hand up to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his index finger, his eyes glued to how his finger glides down your skin.
If he noticed his touch instantly awoke the goosebumps on your skin, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to play with your ear, fingers coming down to rub your earlobe in between the pads of his thumb and index finger.
“No one knows your body like I do, no one else.” He drops his hand from your ear to trace the collar of your shirt, the tip of his finger occasionally grazing your neck. “No one knows how filthy you are. How needy you are. How you like to be touched and kissed. That’s how I know,” he concludes.
He adds, “You clearly haven’t moved on.”
He was doing so well, too.
Haven’t moved on? Son of a bitch.
“Yeah, well, what about you?” you blurt out. You watch as his thick eyebrows scrunch together in smug mockery.
“What about me? Don’t turn this on me, sweetheart. You’re the one asking me to come fuck you.” He starts to take off his shoes, kicking them aside like he used to do.
Cocky asshole.
“You showed up 10 minutes after a simple ‘come over’ text, no questions asked.” You remind him of tonight’s events and his face slowly turns into a scowl, his usual quick witty comebacks suddenly nonexistent.
“So what?” he mumbles, not in the mood to fight you for this any longer because he knows he’ll lose.
“Just admit you want this as bad as I do instead of being smart about it,” you say, rolling your eyes as you take a step back to create some more distance between you two. You hadn’t realized he’d gotten that close.
He shrugs his shoulders with an air of nonchalance, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I wouldn’t say as bad as you.”
Right, because you took that pill and your arousal is off the charts.
He must think he’s sooooooo funny.
“You’re a lia–”
Before you can even finish speaking, he takes a step closer and it inevitably traps you in between his body and the wall behind you. He arrogantly adds, “Want me to push my fingers into your panties and check?”
Fuck.
He shouldn’t still have the ability to knock the oxygen right out of your lungs with just silly words. He shouldn’t.
You stare up at him with a furrow in your brows, eyes wide and lips almost quivering, simply at the thought of him touching you. Damn him.
And he knows.
Because his gaze drops to your lips before back to your eyes, the corners of his own lips curling up at something he’s thinking about.
“What?” you grumble, your voice barely coming out and leaving you for dead in your time of need.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head and adds a shrug to his shoulders for extra nonchalance. “I just think after you ran your mouth like this, it’d be more fun to make you beg for it.”
Your hands come up to his chest, pressing flat against him to push him back but he doesn’t budge an inch because there’s no real strength behind the push and he knows it.
“I hate you,” you quietly say, hands still pressed up against his chest with the tiniest bit of pressure to make it seem like you don’t want him.
Unfortunately, Yoongi knows you too well.
“That’s fine, as long as you’re good to me.” The words leave his mouth in a breathy chuckle that drapes over your lips as his face closes in on yours, plump lips grazing the skin of your jaw. “You were always so good to me.”
“Why did you leave me, then?” Your voice comes out a bit choked, a big gulp following your question and it’s almost like you’re attempting to swallow the words back down. You can’t believe you just blurted that out. Is one of the side effects of that dumb pink pill being emotional as hell?
He freezes for a few seconds before pulling away and searching for your eyes. His expression is decorated by a frown and his pretty lips are pressed into a thin line.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets the deafening silence settle around you. Stares at you as if one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries is being revealed to him and the answer is in your irises. Watches as you idly blink at him and it makes his lips twitch. Seems to be in deep thought and you can’t figure out what’s going through his mind for the life of you.
Then, he speaks.
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
His words paired with his intense gaze sends a jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving your legs to wobble like they’re made of jelly.
You both stare at each other for a while in complete silence. His familiar, black, feline eyes staring into yours so intimately summon a vine that wraps around your heart, digging its sharp thorns into your most beloved organ until it bleeds out all over your insides.
He’s right.
You clearly haven’t moved on.
“Let’s just,” you pause and shake your head free of those thoughts. You don’t bother to finish your sentence as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, leading him toward your once-shared bedroom and he simply lets you.
As soon as you walk in, you let go of his hand and reach for the hem of your shirt. You yank it off your body without a second of hesitation before tossing it somewhere on the floor and it makes him chuckle for some reason.
You turn to glare at him. “Something funny?” you snark, arms crossing over your chest like a child that wanted the purple lollipop instead of the yellow one.
He stares at you from the entrance of your room, an amused smile still on his pretty lips. His eyes scan the walls and the furniture as he slowly makes his way in, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I see that you’ve changed the entire room.”
Your eyes follow the direction of his gaze, scanning around the room as if you’d forgotten what you changed about the place. “Yeah.”
He struts toward you, getting so close that he’s practically pressed up against you. His onyx eyes stare you down, one of his infamous unreadable expressions plastered on his face. “Trying to act like I never existed?” he asks, hands still buried in his pockets and fuck, how you wish he would just give in and touch you.
You simply blink up at him, your eyes pingpong-ing between his eyes from left to right continuously as you try to think of a way to answer.
Should you lie? Should you just be honest?
As if on cue, your question is answered when he lazily places his right hand on your hip, pulling you even closer to him.
Be honest.
“No.” You shake your head slightly, never breaking eye contact with the enticing man in front of you. “I was never going to forget about you if everywhere I looked just reminded me of you.”
His hand tenses on your hip, a muscle in his jaw tenses up and your eyes are just in time to catch the way his Adam’s apple bounces up and down.
You shift your eyes back up to his, blinking your eyelids at him so innocently yet so full of temptation. He slowly starts nodding his head as if he just had an epiphany and then moves his hand from your hip to your waist.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles onto your bare skin.
You shrug your shoulders smugly. “Thought you’d never ask.”
He doesn’t need anything else. His lips are on top of yours the moment the words leave your mouth, teeth clashing at how quickly he lunges at you.
His mouth devours you like a man starved as his other hand grips the back of your head to keep you in his grasp, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.
Several soft moans resound in your throat that he simply swallows, hand balling into a fist on the back of your head, gripping your hair at the root.
You mewl, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps as you try to grind your hips into his. Fuck, you’re like a fucking animal in heat.
“Fuck, I’m barely touching you and you’re this needy,” he whispers against your open mouth before shoving his tongue back in.
Your insides are set ablaze when he starts pushing you backwards with his own body until your calves hit the mattress and automatically makes you fall backwards, dropping onto your bed.
He wastes no time climbing on top of you, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat to the strap of your bra as he gently starts tugging them off your shoulders.
You automatically arch your back off the mattress, encouraging him to unclasp your bra and he does.
Whilst he unclasps your bra, he coats your collarbones in soft kisses and absentmindedly throws your bra to the side as he brings his hand back up to fondle your breast in his large hand.
“Fuck,” you whisper, every single inch of his touch electrifies your body and sets your soul alight. Damn, you’ve missed this.
His thumb gently teases your erect nipple, rolling it around whilst he continues to nibble on the skin of your neck.
Your hips involuntarily buck upwards into nothing and you almost flinch at the way his breath grazes your neck when Yoongi softly chuckles, clearly finding your extreme level of arousal amusing.
“Can you just stop teasing me?” you whine, legs spreading wider and wider without a second thought.
“You’re gonna have to ask a lot nicer if you want me to do that, sugar.” He lifts his head off your shoulder and closes in on your other breast, wrapping his lips around it whilst his hand slowly travels down your stomach to your clothed sex. He starts sucking on your nipple and the effects of that pill makes it so it feels like he’s touching you all over, on every part of your body, on every inch of your skin, causing you to squirm and moan under him like a fish out of water.
“Fuck,” he chuckles, “I should’ve made you take that pill so fucking long ago. Look at you.”
You simply grumble, “Fuck you.”
He lifts his head off your breast to stare at you directly in the eyes and you instantly regret running your mouth. “Yoongi, I just want–”
Smack!
“Ow!” you cry out, the warmth of the slap on your pussy spreading through your skin like wildfire. You instantly whimper, “I’m sorry.”
The apology means nothing to him, though.
He shakes his head. “Always running that fucking mouth of yours.” His fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts and he slides them down your legs before tossing them aside like he has personal beef with the article of clothing.
“Holy shit,” he whispers as he glances at the massive wet patch on your panties and all the slick smeared around your inner thighs, eyes practically bulging out of his eye sockets.
You can’t help but frown, though. “What?”
“No wonder,” he says, seemingly answering his own unspoken question. “You are completely soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking horny.”
You whine, tucking your thumbs under the hem of your panties to drag them down your legs and he doesn’t even try to stop you, just simply stares at you in awe but your panties don’t budge an inch when you stop and decide to just give in, in hopes he’ll fall for your tricks.
“Please, just,” you yelp, “fuck me. Please. I think I’ll die if you don’t.”
He throws his head back as he laughs, his gorgeous neck on full display for you. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Yoongi,” you pause, “I’m so fucking serious. I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day. I need you to. Please.”
He searches your face and seemingly takes note of the desperation and earnestness in your eyes. Shortly after, he drags his gaze down your exposed body, simply staring at your naked figure.
Sprawled out on your bed, lips swollen, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, pupils dilated, breasts bare with nipples standing at attention and your arousal that has already started dripping onto your sheets.
He slowly starts to nod his head and in the blink of an eye, he yanks his own shirt off.
The view of his bare chest brings back so many memories, all the times he fucked you good come rushing back to you and it isn’t fucking helping your case.
A persistent lump forms in your throat that refuses to disappear but that’s when you realize that it’s not just a lump but words. The words ‘I miss you’ are forcing their way to the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill.
But you absolutely refuse to let that happen.
Just bite your tongue.
“All day, huh?” he muses, talking more to himself. He quickly ditches his sweatpants in the meantime and tosses them off the bed. “What took you so long to text me?”
You silently watch as he crawls back over to you in just his black boxers, settling right next to your body and supporting his own weight with his elbow while his other hand returns to your panties. Teasingly plays with the hem. Presses his lips against your neck. Inhales your scent.
You stay quiet for a few moments, eyes shut tightly at the tip of his fingers brushing against your pelvis. So close yet so far. “My pride,” you finally reply.
He simply chuckles at your words and slowly tucks his fingers under the hem of your panties, groaning when the back of his knuckles brush against the sticky patch of your arousal on the inside of your panties. “I don’t think I’ve seen this amount of wetness. Not even in porn.”
His skin finally makes contact with your sex, running right up your wet slit and collecting all of your arousal on the tip of his finger. “Holy fucking shit, Y/N.”
You mewl, hips already thrusting up into his hand but he simply uses his palm to press down on your pelvis.
“Stay still.” The demand makes your insides twist into a wringed out shirt and makes your pussy clench around nothing.
“I can’t,” you whimper, legs shaking at the simple touch of his fingers smearing your arousal all over your sex. “I’m trying to but I can’t.”
It’s like you have no control over your body whatsoever. You just want to be fucked.
“Why can’t you?” he quips as he plunges two fingers right into you, groaning when your slick walls tightly hug his fingers. He already knows, he just likes to push your buttons.
“Because I want you,” you breathe out, moaning at the sensation of his fingers slowly pumping into you. Your sensitivity is off the fucking charts, just his fingers being buried in your pussy without any movement whatsoever could have you cumming in no time.
“I can tell,” he cockily chuckles. His sultry laugh is so full of mockery, the type that would usually piss you the fuck off but in this moment turns you the fuck on. “I just need to prep you, baby. Can’t be hurting you simply because you’re writhing like an animal in heat.”
You quickly shake your head. “I don’t need any fucking prep,” you moan as his hand picks up in pace. “Please, just fuck me. I’m already wetter than I’ve ever been. You literally just said it yourself.”
He lifts his head off your collarbones and searches your eyes for a moment, a stern frown on his brows. “Are you sure?”
Yoongi’s always been into manhandling you and being rough but only when it’s pleasurable for you. He’d usually go down on you or work you towards an orgasm using just his fingers, in hopes it’d have you ready to take him.
So, no, he’s not used to just jumping in and fucking you.
You quickly nod your head. “Never been more sure.”
He stares at you for a moment longer but the sincerity in your eyes is prominent. He then simply spreads your folds with his sticky fingers, smearing your arousal all over your sex before pulling his fingers out of your pussy, the sounds leaving your sex almost embarrassing you.
He slides his hand out of your panties and glances at his hand, eyes scanning his fingers coated in your pussy slick.
“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers but doesn’t even grant you the time to look when he immediately shoves his fingers into his mouth, sucking all your arousal off his digits.
“Yoongi,” you whine, clenching around nothing as you watch him.
“Fuck, princess,” he grunts as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. “It’s been too long. I’m gonna need to eat that.”
You want to protest but he’s already pulling you toward him by your thighs, settling in between them as he’s now face to face with your covered panties.
“I want to be fucked,” you whine, staring down at him between your legs but his eyes are just focused on your panties.
He replies, “And I want to fucking eat you out so you’re gonna have to be patient, you little brat.”
You don’t have the time to whine any more when he pushes your panties to the side and the single action could have you coming undone, right here, right now.
He idly stares at your glistening pussy like he’s Monkey D. fucking Luffy and he found the One Piece after years of venturing the seas.
“Why are you staring like that?” you quietly ask, unfortunately not possessing enough strength to close your thighs out of self-consciousness.
With a simple shake of his head, his face closes in on your sex and he licks a long stripe up your pussy, collecting a great amount of your arousal in a single swipe of his hungry tongue.
But you’re oozing so much wetness that he simply keeps going, licking all around your sex before focusing on your swollen, angry clit. He wraps his lips around your sensitive pleasure nub and starts sucking, coating his entire chin in your juices.
“Fuck!” you cry, reaching over to pull on his roots, fingers tangled in his soft black locks.
The sensitivity you’re experiencing is too much. “I’m gonna fucking cum, Yoongi.” You’re not even joking.
“Already?” he hums in mockery before wrapping his lips around your clit again and sucks some more with no regard of overstimulating you.
You quickly nod your head and within the next few seconds, you’re cumming all over his tongue and around his mouth. A cry tips through your throat and you’re sobbing at this point, pulling so hard on his roots that it causes him to hiss in pain.
Grinding your hips up into his face, into his nose, into his mouth. You can’t believe how quickly that stupid pink pill has you levitating off the bed, it’s like you don’t even belong on Earth anymore.
The orgasm hits you like none ever before, leaving you even more sensitive. You came within barely, what? A minute of stimulation? Two? Oh, you’re so done for.
You push against Yoongi’s head in hopes he’ll stop and he does—after giving your swollen clit one last slurp.
“Holy shit.” You can’t believe that just happened.
“That was really fast. What was that? A minute? A minute and 30 seconds?” he laughs as he sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“It’s that fucking pill,” you mumble defensively, trying to catch your breath.
A low chuckle leaves his mouth before he glances down at the bulge in his boxers. “Well,” he pauses, “you should take that pill more often.”
You roll your eyes with all the brattiness you can muster, hoping it annoys him as much as he annoys you. “This is the last time I’m even letting you in here, I hope you know that.”
His eyes shift back up to yours and he tilts his head to the side in question, blinking at you with a glimmer in his eyes that you can’t quite describe.
You stare back, trying your best not to look fucked out right now but you know you’re failing horribly at it when he simply shakes his head and lets out a bitter chuckle.
“You just wanted to use me one last time, hm?” he scoffs as his fingers tuck under the hem of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs and tossing them off the bed.
A surge of guilt spreads through your chest when you realize how that must’ve sounded to him. “You know that’s not what I meant, Yoongi.”
“No?” he muses, placing his hands on the back of your thighs before pushing them all the way against the mattress on each side of your body. You know your body isn’t supposed to be able to do this, apparent by the strain in your inner thighs but for some reason, it doesn’t bother you as much.
“No,” you whimper as he uses his own weight to keep your thighs spread, sliding his rock hard dick in between your folds handsfree, but not entering you just yet. It has you squeezing your eyelids shut, trying to focus on the feeling of his rock hard cock—all the ridges and veins on his dick—rubbing so good against your swollen clit.
“I don’t believe you,” he says, watching as you squirm from the slightest bit of friction that he has full control over. It makes you want to smack that grin right off his face.
“I swear,” you sniff, not even being able to thrust your hips up for more friction because Yoongi’s weight and strength keeps you restrained.
He simply hums in response, continuing to slide his dick over your slit, completely coating his shaft in your slick. “If you want me to believe you,” he pauses as his eyes shift up to yours, “you’re going to have to beg and convince me. Tell me how what you just said isn’t true.”
“Please,” you say, no hesitation. “Please, I didn’t mean that. I–just fuck me. I swear I don’t want anyone else to be in your position right now, I only want you. No one else knows me like you, no one.”
He continues to simply watch your face twist in borderline agony from the lack of friction, the sensation you so desperately crave.
“That so?” His tone is filled with so much arrogance that it makes your veins burn with lava.
You merely hum in response and finally crack your eyelids open, just to see him staring into your eyes with that familiar glint in his. Fuck.
“Ready?” he whispers, lining his tip up with your hole and cockily chuckles when you eagerly nod your head.
He abruptly freezes. “Ah, fuck, wait.” His dick is not on your slit anymore and it makes you frown at him.
“What?”
He groans, “I have no condoms.”
For fuck’s sake.
“I mean,” you start, “you’re the last person I had sex with. Did you have sex with anyone after me?”
You’re not sure you even want to hear about it but in this moment you’d do anything to just have him finally fuck the shit out of you.
He avoids your gaze as he keeps it glued to his dick sliding up and down your slit. “I have.”
Oh.
“But it was protected, always,” he adds with a quickness, tone calculated and quiet.
Oh.
Okay.
That’s good but it doesn’t make you feel any better.
You have to swallow your emotions at this moment because your pussy is basically screaming at you to just swallow your pride. “Okay, then just do it without.”
He peers up at you through his thick brows with a frown. “Are you sure?”
You mumble, “For fuck’s sake.” Your hand quickly reaches for his shaft but he slaps it away just as quickly.
“I know you’re horny as fuck but I need you to be 100%,” he pauses when he sees you glaring at his dick. “Look at me, dammit.”
Your eyes shift to his and you childishly groan. “Yes, Yoongi, I 100% consent to letting you fuck me raw. Now, will you please just–”
He doesn’t even let you finish talking as he slides his dick right into you, bottoming out completely. You yelp at the intrusion, your slick walls stretching around his shaft so well, like it always has.
“Holy shit,” he whispers with closed eyes, the disgusting squelching coming from your sexes is proof of your arousal and the moans falling from his lips as your pussy tightly hugs him sounds like a choir of angels sustaining a high C.
You try to keep quiet, you try not to squirm, you try not to say the craziest things right now. Like ‘I love you’, or ‘I’ve missed you so much’ because you’re just horny and dumb.
“Move,” you whimper, needing more than he’s giving you right now. He hears you loud and clear, sliding out of you and right back in. The disgusting squelching reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment, not when Yoongi finds it hot and throws in occasional ‘fuck, listen to that’s and ‘you’re so fucking wet’s.
You cuss, eyes rolling to the back of your head when your sensitivity reaches its peak. A few more thrusts will already have you cumming, you’re sure of it.
He continues to thrust, slowly starting to pick up his pace and he finally cracks his eyelids open. His eyes find yours as he stares at you—scanning your pretty face that he loves to look at—especially when it’s twisted in pleasure like that.
Brows furrowed, lips swollen, pupils dilated, mouth agape, a thin layer of sweat draped over your forehead and building up in your hairline.
Somewhere along the line, the eye contact becomes too intense for you. Your hand snakes around the back of his head, closing the distances between you two by pulling him closer to you, licking and sucking on the honey tinted skin of his neck.
After a while of sucking and nipping at his neck and his thrusts never coming to a halt, your orgasm starts approaching you rapidly again. “I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking in your eyes from the pure pleasure that’s setting all your insides ablaze.
“Already?” he murmurs as he leans down, kissing away the tears that have subtly started rolling down your temples. “But I have yet to ruin you.”
Fuck.
“Whatever, though. I guess you’re just going to lose count of the amount of orgasms I’ll fuck you through.” He states it so nonchalantly because he knows only he could ever make you feel like this, make you desperate like this, make you a needy mess like this.
His hips continue to harshly snap into yours, the indescribable sensation of being fucked at this angle and pace has your thighs clenching. Unsurprisingly not long after, your orgasm hits you full force once again.
A sob rips through your throat, your trembling hands grab at his shoulders, nails painfully digging into his skin as he fucks you through your high. His low chuckle rings in your ear, breath hitting your throat as he lowers his face into the crook of your neck.
“Cumming all over my dick and sucking marks on my neck. Are you trying to claim me again?” he whispers, knowing how possessiveness was big a turn on for the both of you back in your relationship.
You simply cry under him, the orgasm lasting longer than any you’ve ever had before. His dick kisses your cervix repeatedly, your breasts bounce continuously from the momentum of his thrusts and the sound of his skin slapping yours only increases in volume the longer he fucks you.
“I asked you something,” he says, lifting his head off your shoulder to stare down at you. “Where’d that bratty mouth that I love so much go?”
You simply grunt in response, teary eyes glaring at him as you slowly come down from your high. The corners of his lips curl up in a twisted smirk at the sight in front of him, you know he enjoys seeing you in this state and him being the sole cause of it pleases him greatly.
The overstimulation is starting to catch up to you. Your hand basically moves on its own, pressing flat into his lower abdomen in order to get him to slow down.
However, it means nothing to him. He simply continues to thrust into you like he’s got something to prove. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you want to claim me again?” he repeats.
You mewl, sinking your cranium further into your soft pillows, exposing more of your throat and neck to him as tears continue to pour out of your eyes.
“Fuck you,” you whimper, digging your nails into the skin around his belly button but it doesn’t elicit a single reaction from him.
He simply chuckles at your snarky comment as he lowers his lips onto your throat, sucking and nipping at it. You know he expected you to say that. No one else knows you like the back of their hand like he does.
“There’s my girl,” he mumbles against your skin. His words paired with the simple act of kissing your neck has all your insides clenching and twisting with something you can’t quite describe.
Butterflies?
Something you’re not going to admit out loud.
“I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, though.” With one more thrust, he pulls out of you and harshly flips you onto your stomach. You don’t even have the time to react when he gently grabs your hips yet roughly hoists your ass up off the mattress.
A sharp sting spreads through your asscheek and that’s when you realize his rough hand came down on your bum, spanking you hard.
“Ow!” you screech in pain yet pleasure, every vein in your body pumping blood faster and faster as you anticipate exactly why, of all people, you called Yoongi over.
He doesn’t even give you the time to come down from that spanking before he gives you another one. And another one. And another one.
“You ask me to come over after not talking to me for months, then beg me to fuck you. I give you what you want and you still have the audacity to be so rude to me?” He clicks his tongue loudly and immediately after the scolding, spanks you yet again. “Biting the hand that feeds you. Tsk. I should cum in that filthy mouth of yours for talking to me like this.”
He shoves his dick back inside without a warning and continues to assault your poor asscheeks, rough palms continuously coming down to your ass in loud smacks.
You hoarsely cry out under him, most likely from the embarrassment because thanks to that damn pill you might cum from just being spanked at this point.
As if he heard your thoughts, the spanking comes to an end and his hands are now flat on your back, keeping you pressed into the mattress with his weight while he starts fucking into you again. “You like getting fucked from the back, right?”
Your ass bounces back against his hips with each thrust, adding more and more sensations to your body. You’re not going to last for very much longer.
He mumbles, “No, that’s not it.” He leans forwards, pressing his chest into your back, lips grazing the shell of your ear and he places his hands against the mattress on each side of your waist, supporting his own weight. “You just love being fucked like a slut.”
Fuck.
“Isn’t that right? You don’t care in what position you get fucked in, as long as you’re getting fucked, hm? Like the horny slut you are.” He remembers exactly what you like and it’s embarrassing. “My slut, though. No one else’s.”
And you admit that yes, you wouldn't just want any stranger to talk to you like this.
It only works with Yoongi because he knows you. Because he understands you. Because he loves you.
Or he did once, at least.
But him showing up at your front door, no questions asked, 10 minutes after you asked him to, might be proof of something you both are trying to deny. Not like it matters.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you moan. You’ve already lost count but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s fucking you so good.
“Cumming so quickly from just being talked to like this. I bet you’ve missed my filthy mouth just as much as I missed yours,” he whispers into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin in a way only a lover should. “I fucking love it.”
The soft kissing and the low volume of his voice are a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips and the degrading words leaving his lips.
And you can’t help but love it.
“Tell me I’m right,” he demands as he picks up the pace, snaking one hand around to wrap around your throat and pull you up until the back of your head collides with his shoulder. “Tell me it’s true.”
Now with your orgasm approaching, he knows you’d do anything to get there.
He knows you too well.
“Fuck, I love it!” you cry as your nth orgasm washes over you, your body violently jerking under him from the overstimulation you’re experiencing.
“I know you do,” he chuckles as he fucks you through your orgasm. “That’s my girl. My fuckin’ girl.”
Fuck.
He has no idea what those words do to you.
Well, it’s Yoongi. He definitely knows what it’s doing to you.
Because you are not his girl. Not anymore.
But you don’t have the energy to correct him nor do you want to. Because at this moment, it feels like the two of you never separated. Like you never spent a day apart. All of the nostalgia, love and hate comes rushing back to you. Surely it’s that stupid pink pill’s fault.
He pulls out in a swift motion and turns you onto your side before he lies down behind you on his side as well, chest pressed into your back as he pulls you closer.
Fuck, how many positions is he going to fuck you in? Is he making up for all the time you spent apart?
Now that you’re in spooning position, he gently places his hand under your thigh and lifts it up to spread your legs. His hand leaves your thigh as he uses the same hand to guide his dick to your pussy again.
Your thigh almost wants to give out and drop, your chest still dramatically rising and falling as you chase your breath.
Another cocky chuckle rumbles in his chest at how you struggle to even move now, his hot breath draping over your neck and his hand returning to the same spot on your inner thigh as he lifts your leg again and pushes into you.
Your head falls back, falling deeper into his embrace and he welcomes that by pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “I don’t know how I survived all those months without y–” he pauses, “your pussy.”
Hmph. He’s the pussy if he doesn’t want to admit he misses you.
But then again, he was never that type. Yoongi was never the type to show his love through words but rather through actions and services, he had difficulties expressing his affection with words.
Like when it took him a year to say ‘I love you’ yet everyday after he came home from an exhausting day at work, he’d pull your feet into his lap and massage them in hopes of offering you some kind of relief.
Or when the topic of wedding vows came up and he said he finds them useless yet he’d buy you a fresh set of bouquets every week until down to the very week you broke up.
Or when he’d place a glass of water on your nightstand everyday when he left for work, whether he fucked the shit out of you the night before or not.
Yoongi always just showed you.
And now that he’s balls deep in your pussy, now that the effects of that pill are clouding your mind, now that his proximity is distorting your mind and setting all your nerve-endings alight again, you have to consciously stop yourself from asking him to come back home—back to you.
Your mind is so distorted that you don’t even recall the bad moments or the reason for your break up right now. You just miss him.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers in your ear, thrusting his hips into you at a considerably slower pace but by no means lacking in strength and passion.
“Like I’m fucking floating on a cloud,” you mumble back, body almost falling limp at his proximity and his dick rubbing your walls so deliciously.
He simply chuckles, “That’s what I like to hear.”
He continues to fuck into you, occasionally groaning and fondling your breast. “Fuck,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck.
“Yoongi, I–”
“I know.”
You don’t even know.
You don’t even know what you were going to say.
But his confident ‘I know’ proves to you that he knows.
Thanks to his slow pace, it takes your orgasm a little longer to approach and thank fuck for that.
“I’m gonna cum soon,” he tells you, rubbing your tummy from the back. “Where do you want it?”
“I don’t care where you cum as long as you kiss me during it.”
Damn. Why the fuck would you say that?
Great. He just abruptly stopped thrusting. You’re such a fucking idiot.
You would have never been able to admit this if you didn’t take that stupid pill or even if you weren’t facing him with your back.
He swiftly pulls out and wraps his fingers around your bicep to turn you around, making you face him now. Still in spooning position but this time facing each other, he pulls you close, lifting your leg onto his hip as he guides his dick back into you and propping your head up on his bicep.
His hand finds its way back to your asscheek and squeezes the soft skin in his rough hand as he pulls you even closer, pressing your chest right into his.
“Cum with me, baby. You’re doing so good.”
He’s so mean for doing this. So mean for the things he says, so mean for fucking you exactly as you like it, so mean for making you feel like you still belong to him. Like he belongs to you.
He thrusts his hips into you faster and sure enough, the effects of the pill get to work because your stomach starts twisting from the inside immediately after the change of pace and his request of cumming together.
Your fucked out eyes meet his determined ones, staring into those black bottomless pits of his as he chases his own release.
He simply stares back, eyes occasionally dropping to your lips. In this moment, his eyes are everywhere you look, his breath hits every inch of your skin, his hand on your hip holds you so tightly that you think be might crack your hipbone. He’s inside your head. He’s everywhere. He’s everything.
It seems like he wants to say something but his attention gets disrupted by the sound of something buzzing on the nightstand behind you.
It’s his phone.
He tears his eyes away from yours, reaching for it whilst still being inside of you and by the guilty look on his face, it doesn’t take a genius to decipher it must be someone whose arms and bed he found comfort in after separating from you.
When he thinks you must’ve realized, he tosses his phone off the bed and returns his attention to you.
But he doesn’t owe you anything. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Not even love.
It’s quiet for a few moments, just your occasional soft moaning and his heavy breathing as you close your eyes to avoid his gaze.
Until you crack your eyelids open again and find out he’s been staring at you the entire time. Your walls tightly clench around him again, indicating your orgasm is close. “Just call me your girl again,” you whisper, allowing the vulnerability to escape your system once again.
Dumb bitch.
“You are. You are my girl,” is all he says before pressing his lips against yours as promised, grabbing a handful of your asscheek as he snaps his hips into yours and forces his tongue into your mouth.
You let his tongue force itself past your swollen lips, crying into his mouth as another orgasm sends electricity down all your limbs, making your brain explode with ridiculous amounts of dopamine and launching you straight to your Utopia.
You murmur some shit into his mouth that even you don’t understand, voice coming and going whenever it pleases, more and more slick gushing out of your completely drenched pussy. Tears continue to escape and roll down your temples, your nose is runny, your voice is hoarse.
A soft moan resounds in Yoongi’s throat when his own orgasm hits him, thrusts getting inconsistent and rough as he starts painting your walls with his warm cum, groaning loudly into your mouth which you happily welcome.
This is otherworldly.
Nothing will ever feel like this moment right here and you’re not sure whether you’ve accepted that yet.
He fucks both of you through your orgasms, pumping his load into you like it belongs inside of you and fuck, have you missed the feeling.
With a few more sloppy thrusts, creating a mess everywhere, his thrusting comes to a halt yet he never stops kissing you.
He curls his arm so your head shifts on his bicep even closer towards his face, keeping his dick buried in you, eliciting a simple sigh in content from the ex-girlfriend in his arms.
After an extra few minutes of nonstop making out with a man that was once yours, you’re the one that pulls away. Your stomach clenches with something you can’t describe when you watch him still chase your lips until he realizes you’ve pulled away, making him slowly open his eyes.
Is it guilt? Is it desire? Is it regret?
Fuck. Fuck. This whole idea just wasn’t smart.
You did your best to rid yourself of the stain he planted on you, closing the mark where he sunk his fangs so deeply into your skin, into your soul. You’re letting him reopen it and you’re so damn fucking stupid for it.
And you don’t understand why he’s the only one you want. No one else.
He stares at you for a moment before pressing his forehead against yours, still trying to catch his breath.
You stay unmoved for a few more moments before he delicately pecks your lips again and gently pulls his softening dick out of you, your nose scrunching when his load starts to leak out of you and onto your sheets.
He doesn’t say much else as he gets up from your bed, eyes searching the floor for something before he hunches over and slides his boxers back up his legs.
He leaves your bedroom without another word, making you simply frown at the ceiling but he quickly reappears with a glass of water and a damp towel.
He hasn’t changed a bit.
He takes care of you like nothing’s changed, cleaning your body up, changing the sheets while you don’t move a muscle, tucking you under the fresh covers and making sure you drink your water before opening the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air after you’ve fogged up the windows in the room.
He sits at the edge of your bed, gently tracing your hairline with the tip of his finger. “How are you feeling?”
If only he knew.
Your mouth slightly curls at the corners, a lazy smile plastered on your lips. “I feel amazing.”
Another sultry chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head in agreement.
This is nice.
But your mind changes when you silently watch him rising to his feet and slowly reaching for his clothes.
Ugh.
You’ve been vulnerable enough.
You asked him to come do one thing and he did it. You can’t ask much more of him.
But your heart works faster than your brain.
“Can you stay the night?” you quietly ask, fidgeting with your fingers under the sheets, relieved that he can’t see.
He glances at you over his shoulder, a frown on his brows. It seems like he thinks about it for a moment before parting pretty his lips to say, “What?”
Fuck.
Your voice goes even quieter, thinking of a way to reformulate the question. “Do you want to stay the night?”
He idly blinks at you, eyes staring straight into your soul as if you just asked him the most absurd question that you could’ve asked him. “Do you want me to?”
The neutral tone of his voice simply makes you shrug your shoulders in response, avoiding his intense gaze that always makes you feel like no one else exists in his mind but you.
Stupid.
“Y/N,” says Yoongi, quietly. Your eyes twinkle up at him, the clear look of a dilemma plastered on your face. He closes the distance between you two, hovering over your body before repeating his question with a bit more bluntness. “Do you want me to?”
Your swollen bottom lip is trapped between your teeth, veins pumping with anxiety and anticipation.
You sniffle a bit in hopes that it makes the tension and silence less awkward. “Yeah.”
Your eyes trail his features, remembering how gorgeous he actually is. How could you ever forget? His thick brows, his sharp eyes, his plump lips, his soft nose, his beautiful hair.
The next few words that leave his mouth rip you right out of your thoughts.
“Then I’ll stay,” he pauses, “for however long you want me to.”
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⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆
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˖⁺ ⊹୨ Y2KISSME ! ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ kinktober 2023 !
let’s kick it back to the year two thousand, but this time it’s wetter, wilder and raunchier aka the sexier versions of your fav y2k films.
୨୧ — NOTES. here it is my loves!! kinktober 2023. i hope you guys like it i’m super excited. some things might be scrapped but idk !! we’ll see. click here ! to join the taglist. rbs are totally fetch ! ♡ ⋆。˚
୨୧ — RATED R: the following films contain nsfw and dark themes. fem!reader. each fic comes with its own warnings. ugh, as if ! minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact.


╰₊✧ OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES - starring; satoru gojo ! ྀི
movie contents: thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown…
KINK: breeding ft. spit, infidelity, agoraphilia, daddy kink, baby trapping, breast play, royalty!au.

╰₊✧ OCT 3RD MEAN GIRLS - starring; katsuki bakugou ! ྀི
movie contents: in girl world, halloween is the only time of the year when katsuki bakugou can slut girls out and no one can say anything about it. boo, you whore!
KINK: free use ft. dub-con, cum-play, voyeurism, humiliation, manipulation, dacryphilia.

╰₊✧ OCT 8TH 2 FAST 2 FURIOUS - starring; yoichi isagi ! ྀི
movie contents: if winning a street race means getting ravaged by your ex boyfriend over the hood of your car then… move bitch! get out the way!
KINK: overstimulation ft. scratching, car sex, public sex, food play, sweat kink, dry humping.

╰₊✧ OCT 16TH CLUELESS - starring; megumi fushiguro ! ྀི
movie contents: are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you?
KINK: step cest ft. photos, videos, soft sex, praise kink, body worship, panty sniffing, stuffed animals.

╰₊✧ OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY - starring; eijirou kirishima ! ྀི
movie contents: there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot.
KINK: monsterfucking ft. gags, claiming, choking, branding, blood kink, cock warming.

╰₊✧ OCT 29TH LEGALLY BLONDE - starring; seishiro nagi ! ྀི
movie contents: there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…
KINK: coercion ft. dumbification, overstimulation, mind break, oral fixation, cherry chasing, power imbalance.

╰₊✧ OCT 31ST CHARLIE'S ANGELS - starring; bakugou, kirishima ‘n midoriya ! ྀི
movie contents: your three precious angels deserve a little reward for all the hard work that they do, don’t you think, charlie?
KINK: gangbang ft. dvp, frottage, blowjobs, voice kink, running a train.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
Oh, Darling! | MYG | Eleven - Finale

Pair: Professor!Yoongi x Student!Reader
Summary: Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?
Genre: Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au.
Chapter Warnings: This is ittttttt, the end for Professor Min and his Darling! I hope you liked this series as much as I liked writing it! This has to be one of my favorite Yoongis and I know you love him too! I hope you’re not tired of Yoongi and you’ll be just as excited to meet him (and Kookie) in A Litte Bit Of Your Heart! See you next month! <3
WC: 5k
[Membership]
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APRIL 22ND | 10:29
It was really weird to be in your room during class hours and at this point it felt like you were skipping the whole week as you hadn’t quite made peace with the fact that you were leaving tomorrow. Your train ticket to Busan was bought and saved to your phone, but you still needed to finish packing.
You didn’t have a lot of things, all of your belongings could fit into two suitcases as you only had small decor pieces and not that many clothes in the first place. Being a university student on a budget, with limited space, trained you to not buy unnecessary things.
All of your clothes and the few pairs of shoes you had were already on the case that rested on top of your bed, only a folded pair of jeans, a shirt and jacket were still in the wardrobe as you planned on wearing it tomorrow when you left for the train station. It was when you started to pluck the pictures from your wall that you had an idea.
You hadn’t told your friends you were moving away yet –besides Jimin–, as you absolutely hated goodbyes. Not that any other goodbye would be particularly hard after you had to walk away from Yoongi, but you still didn’t want to have to face Taehyung’s extreme pouting, Jungkook’s tears and Namjoon’s endless questions. Instead, you wrote each of them a little letter, left doodles on the pages, and added a picture of you with each of them into peach colored envelopes that you’d slip under each of their respective doors.
But it’s not like you would never see any of them again.
In fact, you’d probably see Jungkook over summer time, when he went home to see his parents. And he’d most likely bring his boyfriend to meet them too, so you’d see Tae then. If Namjoon didn’t invite himself over whenever Jimin made the trip to see you, you’d tell him to come anyway.
You had that thought in mind when you were halfway pushing the first envelope under the crack of Namjoon’s bedroom door when it opened all at once, making you jump. The big man was towering over you with worried eyes and you noticed the bags under his eyes when you stood up.
“What are you doing, tiny?”
“Sorry, I thought you were in class.” you scrunched your nose when your friend opened the door for you to walk into his space.
“It’s friday, no classes until the afternoon.” he explained as you walked past him to stand next to his bed.
Namjoon’s bedroom was exactly like yours, bed against the same wall, desk right in front of it. But he had a lot more books on his shelves, a little bonsai tree bathing in the early rays of the sun, and many shoes stuck under his bed. You smiled when you noticed the book he’d been reading before you walked in was the one you brought him from Japan.
That same smile faltered instantly as you thought about how distant those memories felt.
“Right, I knew that.” you forced a chuckle. “Guess time has been kinda blurry lately.”
“I haven’t seen you in a week.” he told you, but it wasn’t in an accusing tone as you probably deserved. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Joonie.” you sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed, fingers holding the envelope in your hand.
“What’s that?” he wanted to know and you bit the inside of your cheek.
“It’s for you.” you offered it for him to take it and watched as he tore through the little sticker of a plant that you used to close the envelope with. Namjoon took the folded letter and the polaroid picture of the two of you when you visited the Seoul Museum of Art for the first time. “You can read the letter later, I can sum up what it says for now.”
“Okay… Should I be scared?” he laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and his dimples were a no show.
“I’m moving back to Busan. I’m leaving tomorrow, actually, and I wasn’t planning on saying goodbye because that sucks but here we are.” you said, as Namjoon was sitting in front of you on his desk chair. You saw his almond eyes widen, his jaw drop. “In that letter I go on about how much your friendship means to me and how thankful I am that you took me under your wing when I first made it to the university.”
“You’re leaving?” Namjoon’s eyes dropped to the picture in his hand, thumb tracing the corner of it.
“That also brings me to something else I’d like to ask you.” you scooted a little closer to the edge, squeezing his wrist to make him look at you as you asked: “Please look after Jungkookie? I won’t be here to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s not late for class every morning.”
“Wait, wait, tiny, back it up, why are you leaving–”
You would miss Namjoon using that pet name, you would miss his nagging whenever you lit a scented candle when you weren’t allowed to do that in the dorms. You would miss the deep chats you had about the universe, or hearing him yell out in the middle of the night because he lost a Pokémon battle on his vintage Gameboy.
“That’s a loaded question.” you shook your head, frown on your forehead as you assessed your options. “I guess I can tell you, if you promise to keep it a secret?”
“Yeah, of course.” Namjoon nodded vehemently.
“Seriously, Joon. This goes way beyond you not liking Yoongi.”
“What did he do to you?!” the man chided, starting to get worked up.
“Calm down, he didn’t do anything.” you waved him off, heart clenching at the mention of our… ex-boyfriend. “Professor Cho did. And I’m only telling you this because you need to be careful with her, okay? I know you really look up to her, but she’s not all that innocent.”
As you told Namjoon a shortened version of events, surprising yourself for the lack of tears, the paler he turned. You knew your friend liked the teacher, and had always been at the top of her class, so it didn’t surprise you how it came off as a shock now that he knew of her true colors.
“So she asked you to leave–”
“Asked is putting it lightly.” your lips were set on a line as you rolled your eyes.
“And you’re actually leaving–”
“That's what I've been saying, yeah.” you nodded. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but–”
“No, no. No.” Namjoon dropped your letter and the photo on top of his desk as he stood up from the chair, making it roll back and almost drop his bonsai tree from its perch. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, this is all wrong–”
“I know, I didn’t predict this either.” you had lines between your brows as you didn’t expect such a strong reaction from your friend.
“How could she lie to me? How could she be so fake.” Namjoon was walking in circles, as much as his small bedroom allowed him to, talking to himself.
“Lie to you? What are you talking about, Joon?”
“She– fuck, oh my god.” your friend was clearly realizing something. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, fuck.”
“You’re worrying me.” you were squirming on your seat, heart pounding as you watched his desperation.
“You’re never going to forgive me, this is all messed up.”
Namjoon was clearly having a moment of panic, not answering any of your questions, making you more antsy by the second. You didn’t know if you should worry about him and this apparent anxiety attack, or be concerned for what he was hinting at.
When his hands covered his face and he let out a muffled yelp, you demanded:
“Forgive you for what? Namjoon!”
“The picture. The picture she has, I’m the one who handed it to her, okay? Cho, she– Fuck.” Namjoon spoke so fast that you barely caught up to his admittance, stomach plummeting to the pits of earth as your jaw slacked. “She got into my head. I know I shouldn’t have let her, but I did and now everything is fucked up.”
“You gave her the picture?!” you squealed, rushing to your feet, extremely annoyed that you were still so much shorter than the man.
“Yeah, I saw you sneaking into the photobooth and I saw when the photo strip developed and I took it.” the more Namjoon spoke, the redder you saw. Your eyes were crimson by the time he spilled: “She had been asking me to find her proof of you and Yoongi for ages now, but I never had anything–”
“Why the fuck would you do that?!” you were shouting, uncaring of who heard your fight, too mad to give a damn.
“Because! I’m in love with you! I have been for ages, but you never looked at me twice!” Namjoon raised his voice, which made you take a step back. Then fear and regret flashed through his eyes and he raised his hand as he walked so far back that he was pressed against his desk.
“And your genius plan was to send me away? So you could ruin my life in order to get over me?” you accused, a finger pointing to his chest.
“No! No– Cho lied. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was going to blackmail Yoongi, not you!” he explained, as if that was supposed to make it any better. “She said she’d make him break up with you because she didn’t think what he was doing to you was right. Then you’d be heart broken and I could just–”
Your voice was high pitched as you couldn’t mask your agitation and pure, hot anger: “Take advantage of me? You’d get me vulnerable so you could use me for your sick little fantasy?”
“No, I’d never take advantage of you–”
“Do you even hear yourself right now? That’s exactly what you were trying to do!” you wanted to grab onto something to ground yourself, so held onto the sleeves of your sweater. You sounded a little manic as you laughed: “But then Cho was smarter and took advantage of you instead.”
“Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid.” Namjoon turned away from you to hit his fist against the door of his wardrobe, the noise of it making you jump.
You felt like you didn’t know this man standing in front of you anymore. Someone you trusted, someone you wrote a whole letter about, someone you would miss.
“I’m stupid too, for thinking I could ever trust you.” you were no longer yelling, a numb feeling taking over you, your brain’s way of saving you from the stress of this situation. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were my friend.”
“I am! I swear, I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Namjoon turned to face you, hands reaching out as if he wanted to touch your arms, but you flinched and he immediately stopped.
“Well, too fucking late for that. Stay away from me. And stay away from my cousin too.” you started moving to the door, just three steps and you’d be there, but Namjoon rushed past you to block your way out.
“Wait, Yn listen–”
“Fuck off, Namjoon, why the hell would I listen to you?!”
“Because! I can fix this.” he begged, threatening to fall to his knees for you to give him five minutes to explain.
“Yeah, by building a time machine and not giving her the pictures.” sarcasm painted your words, but you didn’t care if they hurt him.
“No, no, I’m serious. I swear. You don’t have to ever trust me again after this, but believe me in just this.” he continued. “I have more photos.”
“You creep–!”
“No, not of you! Of me! With Cho.”
That made you pause completely, eyes widening as you tried to wrap your mind around those words. You were so frozen, in fact, that you didn’t move even when Namjoon walked past you to reach into a drawer on his desk to pull out a stack of something shiny. When he got back to you, you noticed they were printed pictures.
“We’ve been hooking up.” Namjoon dropped yet another bomb and your back hit the nearest wall as your knees faltered.
“So not only are the two of you liars, you’re also hypocrites?” you mumbled, reluctantly accepting to hold the pictures Namjoon handed you.
You didn’t look through them all, face burning as you realized how compromising they were. The more images you passed, the less clothes were covering your supposed friend and the woman. You felt sick to your stomach and shoved the pictures in his direction again, avoiding looking at him.
“Yeah, I know, I deserve that.” Namjoon held the pictures in trembling hands. “You can just take these pictures to her, fight fire with fire. If she threatens to release yours, you’ll release these. You’d go down, but so would she. That will keep her from doing it. She might be a liar and a horrible woman, but she needs this job. Plus, these photos are a lot more graphic so the backlash would be a lot worse than what it would be like for Professor Min.”
“I can’t use that, Namjoon.” you sighed, the familiar exhaustion of emotional turmoil overtaking you yet again. “I’m not going to stoop to her level and do the same thing she’s doing to me. I’m not like that. You’d lose your spot in the university too, if it got out. You might not deserve it, but I wouldn’t hurt you like that. Forget it.”
“You might not want to get on her level, but I can.” he offered you instead, and you knew he meant it. “Not only for you, but for me too. She’s been using me for a long time, too long. Pretending to like me, texting me to pull me right to where she wanted–”
“Wait, the contact on your phone… Is she saved as a red rose?” you interrupted him as you were reminded of the texts you read on his phone, the favor someone was asking from him, how the person was stating she couldn’t resist him and then following it with manipulation.
“Yeah, how do you–”
“Jesus, Namjoon.” you sighed, hating that you felt bad for this man who was naive enough to fall into her trap.
“I know, I’m sorry. I know nothing I ever do will make it up for what I’ve already done, but let me do this.” he pleaded.
“Doing it won’t make me forgive you.” you warned. The damage was done; between you, and in so many other ways.
“I know. But it will make me stop hating myself.”

APRIL 22ND | 13:18
Joonie [13:19]: It’s done. You’re good.
You [13:19]: Are you positive? You can’t be half sure about this…
Joonie [13:20]: Swear on my life. I got the original photo, deleted the pictures of it on her phone. She could have copies stashed somewhere else, but so do I.
You [13:21]: Okay.
You bit back the will to say thank you, when he didn’t deserve it. Namjoon was the one to get you into this mess in the first place, so you weren’t about to forget everything he did just because he was also the one to get you out of it. You didn’t think the two of you could ever be friends again after this, but only time would tell.
At this particular moment, it wasn’t your biggest concern as you had amends to make with someone else.
As much as this whole situation with Namjoon made you mad and you got sad every time you thought about it, the pit on your stomach deepening when you imagined all of the ways someone you thought was your friend messed with your life and broke your trust in so many levels, to know it was done, as least for now, did lift a mountain off your shoulder.
You were already inside of Yoongi’s office by the time you got the green light from Namjoon, somewhere you never thought you’d step foot into again. The room was completely empty, Yoongi’s desk surprisingly barren. You guessed Yoongi must be working from home, as this very room held too many memories of the two of you for it to be comfortable for him to stay.
As you were about to get up, the heavy doors opened.
“Oh, I’m sorry, miss, I thought this office was empty?” the sweet cleaning lady you had seen many times in this very building bowed to you.
“It’s okay, I was just leaving, I’m not going to be in your way.” you offered her a soft smile and a bow of your own as you stood up, hoisting your bag over your shoulder.
“Don’t worry, please!” her small eyes crinkled as she smiled and pulled her cart of supplies into the room. “I just need to rush to get this office ready for the new professor to settle in.”
“New professor?” you frowned.
“Mhm, such a shame Mr. Min quit. In the middle of the semester too.” the lady clearly didn’t notice how the news surprised you, even though your gasp was audible enough. “He was so nice to me, you know? Always polite. Always took the trash out himself.”
“Professor Min quit? Min Yoongi?” you repeated with a trembling breath.
“Yes, Miss. He quit this morning.”
You cursed under your breath and the nice lady pretended not to hear it. You apologized and bowed again on your way out, stomach tense and heart racing all over again.
Yoongi quit? Fuck, you messed up way more than you thought. To leave a job that gave him security and stability for life, preferring to quit instead of risking being found out when your relationship was already over… You couldn’t even fathom the anxiety that must have led him to give it up.
You needed to find him fast and apologize, let him know everything was well now and he could still save his job. But you couldn’t do it over the phone. On the off chance that he even picked up your call in the first place, you needed to see him.
The first location you tried was his apartment.
But you knocked and knocked and no one answered. When you made it back to the lobby, the doorman told you that Yoongi hadn’t been to his apartment in a couple of days.
The second location you tried was Hoseok’s house.
While you didn’t find Yoongi there, even though his best friend did assure you that Yoongi had, in fact, been staying at Hoseok’s guest bedroom for the last few nights, he left this morning and hadn’t returned yet. You were the one to break the news to both him and Jimin –who happened to have stayed the night with his new boyfriend– that Yoongi had just quit his job at the university. Something told you that Hobi knew more than he was letting on, but whatever Yoongi confided in him wasn’t your place to snoop.
You also ended up telling both men what happened with Namjoon this morning, how he had been working with Cho all this time to get the two of you caught. Jimin was not only shocked but also disappointed as he had been close friends with Namjoon even before you even met either of them.
You tried not to feel guilty, knowing it was unrealistic, you weren’t the one to break their friendship when Namjoon did it all by himself. But you couldn’t help but wonder if you hadn’t met Namjoon, if the two of them would still be friends.
Hoseok guessed that Yoongi might be at Seokjin’s place and as much as you were desperate to see the man, you weren’t crazy enough to go knocking on the door of the actor who already didn't like you as it was. Assuming Yoongi had confided in him about what just happened and your break up, Seokjin might as well be averted to you by now.
Hobi insisted on giving you a ride back to the dorm on the way of dropping Jimin off at his own apartment so he could get ready for his shift at the bar, and promised to give you a call whenever Yoongi got back home tonight, so you could come over and talk to him then.
When you reached your floor at the dorm, Jungkook was leaning outside of his door, back pressed against the wall as Taehyung towered over him, an arm on the wall next to his head, a long finger tilting Jungkook’s face up for them to stare lovingly into each other’s eyes.
“Shouldn’t the two of you be in class right now?” you nagged, arms crossed, glad you didn’t sneak their goodbye letters under their doors before doing so with Namjoon’s.
“Classes were suspended today, noona.” Jungkook had pink cheeks as he looked at you, but facing your way just opened up space for Taehyung to lean down and kiss his neck. “So-someone quit. Thre-threw all the pro-professors for a loop–”
“What’s your excuse, Dracula?” you poked Taehyung in the ribs, making him giggle and pull away from Jungkook.
“No teachers quit in my department, but your cousin is a lot more interesting than renaissance paintings.” Taehyung grinned. “But we’ll go inside now, yeah?”
“Mhm, we were just waiting for you to come back.” Jungkook nodded, already turning to type his passcode to open his door.
“Just to rub it on my face how single I am? That’s very rude.” you scoffed, catching the cheeky glint on Taehyung’s eyes before the two of them stumbled into Gguk’s room. “God, I hope I didn’t pack my earbuds–”
You were talking to yourself as you unlocked your own door and stepped inside your room, a yelp leaving your lips as you say Yoongi sitting at your desk, looking at the polaroids you’d left on top of it right before you went to slip the letters out.
“Yoongi!” you hadn’t seen him for three days, and you already felt like you were forgetting what he looked like. Was his hair always this soft? Skin always this smooth?
“I always thought your bedroom was a little more cluttered.” he spoke calmly, looking around at your empty walls and packed up suitcases. “Imagined stuffed animals on your bed.”
“They are in the suitcases–” you hushed, not bothering to take your shoes off as you walked to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Not a professor anymore, I get to be inside your dorm.” he got up from the chair and it was clear the two of you didn’t quite know where your boundaries stood now.
“You– I– Namjoon and Cho, it was–” there was so much you wanted to say, so much to explain, and yet no words were making sense.
“I know, darling.” Yoongi nodded and you took a deep breath trying to focus on one thing at a time. He touched the side of your face and you leaned into it. “Hobah texted me when you were at his place. He gave me a run down of everything. You can tell me the full story later, but that’s not important right now.”
“Okay.” you nodded and touching his shoulders felt like floating on a cloud. So he knew you were free, he knew it was okay for you to see each other, which saved you the explanation for the time being. “Wait, if you know what happened, why are you still here? Go back to the office, get your job back–”
“Why would I do that?” he smiled and you never knew you could miss gums.
“Because–because there’s no threat anymore, you don’t have to look for another job–” you hushed, shaking him a little. How could he be so calm about this?
“I’m not looking for another teaching job, darling. I didn’t quit because I was scared.” his smile was still there, as was his hand on your cheek.
You huffed, frustration might as well be part of you now. “Why did you quit–”
“For a few reasons, really. Firstly, I didn’t want to lose you. I had my guess that it was Miss Cho, she did say a few suspicious things as we were working together at the cotton candy booth.” he admitted and you paid attention to his every word. “But if it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. If it wasn’t the pictures, it would be someone walking in on us like Jin hyung. And I didn’t want us to live with that fear always at the back of our minds.” you were nodding as you listened, eyes flitting to every detail on his face; his almond shaped eyes, small nose, the freckle on his cheek, his pink lips. “And secondly, teaching was never my dream. It was just something I was good at.”
“I thought you didn’t have a dream.” you broke into a small smile that matched his.
“I didn’t think so either, but then I met a pretty girl who got all pouty when I told her that.” he chuckled, thumb tracing your bottom lip as you were starting to pout again. “She made me think about it and realize that there is something I want to do and that will make me happy and that’s writing.”
“Oh.”
“I quit because I want to dedicate myself to my novel, and to all the other ones to come.” he told you and your anguished heart rested easy. Yoongi didn’t quit because you took things from him. Yoongi quit because you gave him the courage to go after what he truly wanted. “And if they all flop, I can move in with Hobah and make him support me.”
You giggled at that stance, both from the joking behind it and because: “Since when do you use the word flop?”
“I’m dating this twenty three year old, I need to learn the lingo.” he shrugged, a little smug.
“You are dating?” you lifted an eyebrow and this time when your stomach did a flip, it was of pure happiness.
“Mhm, if I should be so lucky that she’ll take me back.”
Yoongi leaned in softly and gently, nose bumping against yours, until he stopped. So you moved in the rest of the way and completed the small kiss.
“I think that’s a yes?” he mumbled against your lips, moving his against yours.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Yoongi grinned, hugging you, tucking you into his body. As you were wrapped around him, he asked: “Now, do you want help unpacking? I’m not letting you go anywhere ever again.”
“Oh my god, I need to cancel my school transfer.” you groaned into his chest. “And call eomma, and get a refund on my train ticket– Shit, I’m a whole week late, I have texts to read, and projects to work on–”
“Shh, baby, breathe.” your boyfriend squeezed you a little harder, in an attempt to calm you. And, unsurprisingly, it did. “I can help you with all of that, we’ll get everything in place again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm, you’ll be surprised with how much time I have in my hands now that I’m unemployed.” Yoongi laughed, and you were surprised with how easygoing he was with all of this.
“Oh my god. I’m sorry.” you, on the other hand, felt quite guilty.
“I’m not.”
It might take you a while to put everything that happened today into place. When you woke up, you thought you were leaving, you thought all of your life’s plans had shifted. You were missing a boyfriend and had an extra friend.
Everything still felt like it was upside down at this very moment in time, but you had Yoongi. And that made everything else okay. At least for now.
“Do you have your car here?” you asked after a while of only hugging each other. You had to get moving if you wanted your regular life back.
“Mhm, it’s parked out front, I don’t know how you didn’t see it.” Yoongi laughed as he broke the hug.
“Your girlfriend is currently a bit of a mess, don’t tease.” you pouted with squinty eyes, walking to your suitcases next to your bed. “Can we drop my things off at Jimin’s?”
“You’re staying with him?”
“Yeah, I don’t think I can live in the dorm right now.” you sighed, looking at the wall behind your desk, as if you could see through it and the man who lived just on the other side. “I don’t want to run into him any more than I have to.”
“I know of a place that you can live in for free.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck as he stared at the floor and you stared at his bulging bicep. “Don’t freak out, but if you need a place to stay, you can stay with me. If you’re not comfortable moving so fast, then you can just stay until we get everything settled again.”
“It would make things easier…”
At least from the point of view that Jimin didn’t have a spare bedroom you could take, so you’d need to sleep on a couch when Yoongi had a whole bed. And if you were staying at Yoongi’s place, he could help you with all of your late projects, and you could help him with his book too.
“Just for a little while.” he insisted, so it wouldn’t overwhelm you.
“A week or two.” you shrugged, playing it cool.
“Maybe forever.” Yoongi grinned. “We’ll see how it goes.”

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. . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober masterlist



31 days of smut let’s get it °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
please read the warnings for each chapter!!
・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚.
☆ day 1 ~ taehyung: breeding kink
tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink, baby talk
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
☆ day 2 ~ : jimin: pet play
tags/ warnings: pwp, pet play, ass play, fingering of both holes, butt plugs, mild dumbification
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
☆ day 3 ~ jungkook: thigh riding
tags/ warnings: pwp, thigh riding, cumming untouched, implied use of recreational drugs (weed)
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
☆ day 4 ~ hoseok: somnophilia
tags/ warnings: pwp, somnophilia, consensual drugging, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
☆ day 5 ~ yoongi: praise kink
tags/warnings: pwp, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, vaginal fingering, cum swallowing
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
☆ day 6 ~seokjin: corruption kink
☆ day 7 ~ namjoon: double penetration
☆ day 8 ~ jungkook: size kink
☆ day 9 ~ taehyung: watersports
☆ day 10 ~ jimin: cock warming
☆ day 11 ~ hoseok: oral fixation
☆ day 12 ~ yoongi: overstimulation
☆ day 13 ~ seokjin: creampie
☆ day 14 ~ namjoon: face sitting
☆ day 15 ~ jungkook: fingering
☆ day 16 ~ taehyung: spit kink
☆ day 17 ~ jimin: mirror sex
☆ day 18 ~ hoseok: squirting
☆ day 19 ~ yoongi: free use
☆ day 20 ~ seokjin: spanking
☆ day 21 ~ namjoon: voyeurism
☆ day 22 ~ jungkook: exhibitionism
☆ day 23 ~ taehyung: knotted dildo
☆ day 24 ~ jimin: role play
☆ day 25 ~ hoseok: primal play
☆ day 26 ~ yoongi: shibari
☆ day 27 ~ seokjin: vibrator
☆ day 28 ~ namjoon: cum stuffing
☆ day 29 ~ jungkook: pantie kink
☆ day 30 ~ taehyung: belly bulge
☆ day 31 ~ yoongi: mask kink



he's hot or whatever.. for @yooboobies ♡