Hi Yami!! For The Requests, Perhaps Jimin + Enemies To Lovers Or Fwb To Lovers? Whichever Works For U!!

hi yami!! for the requests, perhaps jimin + enemies to lovers or fwb to lovers…? 💜 whichever works for u!!

Jimin looks stunning in the new practice uniforms. Short sleeves this season, skin tight too. You can practically see every muscle in his upper body rippling as he walks a group of underclassmen through the motions of a lift. He’s absolutely gorgeous, oozes confidence with every step he takes.

And then he stops in front of you and all that lust in your core fizzles into annoyance. “Hey,” he mumbles, standing close behind you. He’s preparing to lift you, hands securely on your hips, lips practically against the shell of your ear. “No granny panties today?”

You elbow him, hard enough it makes him groan and the two of you miss your count. Your coach yells at you from across the gym, but you’re too busy glaring at Jimin. “I was on my period, you asshole,” you snap, reassuming your stance as you await the next count.

Jimin recovers soon enough, hoisting you into the air and back down before responding. “They were cute,” he mumbles, slightly breathless. “The flowers were kinda sexy.”

You try to stomp on his foot but Jimin is fast. “Stop looking up my skirt, perv.”

The routine ends and so does practice, but not before Jimin can get on your nerves some more. He follows you off the mat, practically hovering behind you. “Can’t do that,” he hums, leaning against the wall when you finally pause by the water fountains. “I’m your base, sweetheart, looking up at you is my job.” You throw a towel his way. “My favorite was the little black thong,” he comments, following you out of the gym despite the indignant squawk that escapes you and the way you desperately try to shove him away. Jimin follows with a feathery laugh. “Whaaat,” he sings, smoothly taking your bag off your shoulder, making a grab for your hand afterwards. He swings your joined hands back and forth. “You’ve got great taste in panties.” And at that point, you don’t even bother anymore

It’s freezing, your thin sweatpants doing nothing to protect you from the chill that settles in your bones at the bus stop. Jimin huddles closely behind you, practically lines himself up with you. In a low voice, he murmurs, “can I come over today?”

Your cheeks feel warm. Maybe from the cold, maybe from the hand that creeps around your waist. “I have an assignment due at midnight.”

Jimin chuckles and you can almost feel the vibration. “So then after midnight,” he decides, cuddling closer. The bus pulls around the corner. “Show me more of your panties after midnight.”

yami please i need a nerdy fwb namjoon who also know how to fuck good 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

The only downside about fucking Namjoon is that he cares more about his textbooks than he does you. “Woah— wait,” he chokes, swiftly removing his hands from your ass. The back of your thighs are pressing against his desk, ready to be hauled up by Namjoon’s beefy arms. But first, he has to carefully bookmark his pages and set them aside.

“Joon,” you whine, nearly stomp your feet too. He’s so handsome, makes your insides tingle when he looks at you over the dark rim of his glasses. But his dorky, academic side can be quite bothersome too.

“Just a minute,” he calls, now setting his books on the other side of the room. Truthfully speaking, his incessant need to set aside his books isn’t without reason; a couple weeks ago he had made you squirt so hard and far that it somehow reached the foot of his bedroom door. Anyway, by the time Namjoon returns, you’ve plopped down on his bed, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m back.”

“Yay,” you deadpan, not that he minds. Soon, he’s kissing the frown off your face, his glasses set aside, along with the last shreds of his delicate approach. His hands are so broad, latch onto your hips with a killer grip that is certain to bruise.

“Gonna squirt for me again?” he growls, his cock rammed deep between your folds. One hand snakes down, trails over your tummy and your mound until the tip of his forefinger is nudging against your swollen clit. You squeal, shoving your face deeper into the mattress. Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “You’re so cute,” he says, kissing along your shoulder, up your neck. His breath is hot against your ear, makes your eyes roll back when he says your name in that low tenor of his. Meanwhile, his finger wastes no time entertaining your clit, lazily rubbing circles against the bud until your thighs begin spasming uncontrollably.

“Namjoon,” you whimper, every muscle in your body locking up as he continues his steady stream of thrusts into your clenched walls. “Fuck— you’re so good,” you whine, clawing at his sheets.

Namjoon’s hips snap forward. “Yeah? You like that?” You nod along hurriedly, you’re entire body practically short-circuiting with your orgasm so close.

He rolls his hips on the next thrust and paired with the devilish finger dancing along your clit, it makes you see the entire universe all at once. “Oh, fuck!” you sob, toes curling. The pleasure washes over you, has you stuttering out his full name for some reason, every curse word tacked on as well. “Joon— Joon,” you cry towards the end, when his pace picks up as he chases his own completion.

You don’t squirt this time, just send his one thousand-page thesaurus flying off his night-stand by accident. “__,” he groans, flopping down beside you, all sweaty and hot. “That was my Special Student Edition.”

begging for some DILF seokjin action bestie yami

The door clicks shut behind you. “The kids are asleep,” you whisper, and Seokjin nearly falls face first into the hardwood floor on his race to remove his pants. You muffle a giggle behind your palm, slowly sinking into the mattress beside your husband whose drowsiness completely wore off the minute he heard the words ‘kids’ and ‘asleep’ in the same sentence.

He wastes no time guiding your hand over the subtle stirrings beneath his briefs, your wedding bands knocking against each other on the way. “Sorry,” he sighs, has already begun to kiss a trail of wet kisses down the side of your throat. “Just really need this.”

He’s been stressed this past week, beyond tired as he wrapped up some projects at work. Between that, the kids, and his nosy parents, it had been difficult for him to find any time to unwind. At times like this, you’re all too ready to take care of him. You squeeze his bulge, reveling in the trembling exhale that escapes Seokjin’s lips. He’s hard by now, his long member curving up towards the waistband of his underwear. You bypass the elastic easily enough, trail your fingertips over the soft skin of his tummy, through the coarse hair at his base, and finally, his cock.

He’s warm to the touch, flinches cutely when you grip him too tight. “Your ring,” he mumbles, sucking a harsh kiss against your jawline. It’ll bruise tomorrow, make your skin tender to the touch. For tonight you’ll let him carry on like this, kissing and touching you like he’s starving for the taste of you. “Take it off.”

You snort, turning just the slightest to land a peck against his forehead. “Never,” you retort, tightening your hold around his member until he’s hissing, reaching for your wrist as if to pull you away. He doesn’t, which only emboldens you to carry on, carefully dragging your hand up his length until your thumb is swiping over the tip of his cock, coating your thumb in the glossy substance that oozes from his slit.

“Oh, fuck,” Seokjin shivers, lips against your throat. Flicking your wrist, you let your inner palm graze his engorged tip until it’s slippery with his pre-cum, running it back down his length with newfound ease. “Shit,” he curses, hips raising off the mattress just a bit as he slowly falls victim to the steady pumping of your hand against his cock.

He always comes the hardest when he’s pent up, like he’s physically and mentally incapable of holding it more than is necessary. Your hand runs up and down his length, squeezes at the base and rolls over the tip. Seokjin’s breathing becomes labored against your skin, the wet patches from his kisses fanned by his rushed breathing. Your name tumbles from those flushed lips, punctures every downward tug the closer he gets.

Eventually he comes, hips unconsciously jumping forward one last time as his cum dribbles down his length, over your knuckles. “Wow,” he exhales, flopping backwards onto your shared bed. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, trying to compensate for the way he’d whimpered and gasped just moments before. He flicks his gaze back over to you. “You need to sit on my face, like, now. Before the baby monitor goes off.”

oo requests?? can we get some jungkook fwb? (honestly never see enough of it)

Everyone knows you’re his favorite girl, even him. He makes a point of announcing it every chance he gets. “There she is,” Jungkook grins, and he looks even more handsome under the dim glow of the bar lights. His thigh is your seat, gestured forward with two careful pats from him, his long fingers decorated with rings and tattoos alike. “My favorite girl.”

His favorite girl gets certain privileges the other girls don’t get to enjoy; he’ll leave the bar at your request, come running to your apartment at the crack of dawn if you so much as ask. “I’m lonely,” you whine over the phone, toying with a stray thread on your sheets, and twenty minutes later, Jungkook will appear. Sometimes drunk, sometimes faded. Sometimes completely sober. He fucks best when he’s sober, spreads your legs apart and licks a long line from your hole to your clit until your entire body quivers from the pleasure.

His favorite girl gets to push him around as much as he does you, pin his hands above his head and ride him like a cowgirl. Jungkook let’s you do whatever you want to him under the condition you’ll let him do the same. He’ll eat you out for the longest, let you suffocate him between your thighs, and then shove his cock down your throat, makes it so you can barely breathe, gagging around his length. An eye for an eye.

His favorite girl gets to yell at him when he’s acting stupid, cry when he’s with other girls, and sleep soundly knowing you’ll never be cut off. “It was just one round,” he promises, softly patting the back of your head. You had looked for him all night at the club, wore the dress you knew he liked, just to catch him dancing with some other girl you’ve never even seen before. Truthfully, you’re not sure you’re even allowed to cry; the moment you’d caught Jungkook’s gaze, you leaped for the first man you saw, let him screw you in one of the booths as Jungkook watched from the bar.

His favorite girl gets to keep him overnight, swaddle him in your floral-scented sheets and card your fingers through his hair as he sleeps. “I’ll cut the rest of them off,” he whispers, face nuzzled against the base of your throat. (He won’t.) He’s the warmest in the mornings, his body practically a second radiator as he wraps those strong arms around you. Jungkook always makes the same breakfast in the morning— the only one he knows how to make —and it’s those godawful scrambled eggs that make you yearn for more. “See you,” he husks at the door, back in last night’s clothing because he refuses to leave anything at your apartment. He presses a kiss to your forehead, already gearing up for the same cycle all over again. “My favorite girl.”

since someone already requested angry sex with jk com i request slow sex? like very vanilla . with jk too

Jungkook’s skin was scalding to the touch, dripping in sweat that made him slippery and smelly, two things that would have otherwise made you uncomfortable had he not been fluttering kisses along your cheek. “Relax for me,” he croons, daring to readjust the angle of his hips against you. His cock is so hard, brushes against nearly every inch of your walls. “I’ve got you, baby.”

His hands are so careful, fingers brushing along the base of your throat like he’s afraid one wrong touch will break you in half. “Ugh,” you groan, hands clutching at his sheets. “It just— it hurts. A little.”

“I know, I know,” Jungkook mumbles, flashes you an apologetic frown as he watches you go through all the phases of discomfort on your mission to familiarize yourself with his dick. He’s got the patience of a saint; you imagine it isn’t easy to hold off this long. Jungkook had been the one to proposition you tonight, had sweetly fattened your ego with compliments and kisses until you had given him the green light for sex. And now, he’s the one who has to wait as you clench and buck against his fat cock. “You’re okay,” he hums, brushing his mouth against yours, a sweet attempt at distracting your from the tightness in your core.

It’s a damn good one at that. His tongue is as hot and slippery as he is, gliding along yours, swallowing up your little cries, until you’ve all but forgotten about the stretch downstairs, arms slowly coming around Jungkook’s shoulders to pull him closer. “I’m okay,” you repeat, and Jungkook smiles.

“I can go now?” he asks anyway, reaching down to readjust the placement of your thighs around his waist. You nod, biting down on your lip as Jungkook begins to slowly fuck into you, the sweet expression on his face melting away as he loses himself in the tight suction of your walls. “Ah,” he gasps, eyes fluttering shut, head lolling back. He’s so beautiful like this, chest glistening in sweat, his lips bruised from all the kissing you’d done that night.

Every plunge into your heat makes you want him more and more, hands clawing at any inch of skin you can reach. Jungkook’s pretty eyes blink open again, dazed and sparkly. When he looks back at you, a dazzling grin overtakes his features, your name like honey on his tongue. “You’re so”— a particularly hard thrust that leaves you seeing stars momentarily —“so fucking cute.”

If you weren’t already so hot from the exertion and the closeness of his body, you would’ve blushed. “St- stop,” you whimper, finally clutching at his forearms.

Jungkook chuckles, slowing the pace of his thrusts to roll his hips against yours, the hilt of his cock against your folds enough to make you quiver beneath him. “Don’t want to,” he teases, releasing the grip on your hip, his hand landing over your mound instead. “Cute, baby,” Jungkook sings, his thumb toying with your engorged clit in a painfully slow manner, rubbing the pad of his finger hard against you.

“Jungkook,” you choke, hips jerking upwards at the dual action; your clit pulses beneath his touch, your walls squeeze around the thickness of his cock.

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, an airy sound that puts a stop to the lewd thoughts flashing through your brain, allowing you to see the adoring expression he levels your way. It lasts for all of three seconds before Jungkook is looming over you, placing one final chaste kiss against your lips before really getting into it.

delicacies of the season (m)

part 3: days apart

note: hey!! What’s up!! first, I officially have named this series!! it’s right up there for ur viewing glory! ok anyway here’s something before I disappear for the next four weeks because I am drowning in school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also just a side thingie for this story: I’ve already established that oc isn’t on birth control but here I’m implying that they’re doing natural planning (i.e. fertility awareness where the person who menstruates keeps up with their cycle and thus only has sex when their cycles allows for it). PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS UNLESS YOU KNOW THE RISKS!!!!!!!! Oh Lord putting your impregnation chances up to God?! I couldn’t do it. But also this is fanfiction and nothing bad will happen to this couple so let’s all just… suspend disbelief for a second ok

PAIRING. taehyung/reader GENRE. romance, farmer au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 2.5k WARNINGS. kitchen sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, a good ol’ creampie bc wot is the ubemango experience without one :/ SUMMARY. Taehyung missed you.

Auntie Gaeul comes over when the rooster crows to tell you to check out the passion fruits today. They’re ripe not because she’s seen them but because she just knows. Call it the Elder Instinct for Ripened Foods. You tell her you’ll give her half the harvest, and she swats at you before she leaves.

“Stop being so polite, I’m not that old,” she spits in jest. “And make some of that honey iced tea your grandma makes. If there’s extra, then I’ll have some.”

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