#sorry excuse me while i fucking throw up and convulse on the ground

[insomnaticwriter]

[shootingstarwritings]

Couples Therapy

Marcus glanced at his client before going back to his notes. As usual, it was a young woman who looked as though she was on the verge of tears after giving him a mile-long list of grievances towards her husband. For the first few years, everything was like an eternal honeymoon until the two began to drive the other crazy. From the little info Marcus had, the blame seemed to rest on two personalities that didn't feel like compromising—as it usually was.

However, compromises didn’t put food on Marcus’ table, so it was in his best interest to pin the blame all on the husband. “Like my services advertise,” he told the wife, Julia, while sliding a sheet of his talents over to her, “I can fix your marriage to be as blissful as it was on your wedding night. All I need is your consent and I can shape your lover as you need him to be.”

The tears soon dried up. "Um, huh…?" Julia grew sheepish as her eyes skimmed over the sheet. Not good. "Shape him? My friend said your type of work was unique, but changing my husband…? I didn't hear anything about that."

Tilting his head, Marcus said, "Did you not notice how your friend's partner changed? He was happier, more agreeable, and far more pleasant overall. Always carried a strong conversation and had the manners of a perfect gentleman. Don't you want the same for your husband?"

“I-I thought you just gave them counseling!” Julia stood up from her chair, hands clasping her purse as though Marcus was a violent, money-hungry criminal. “This is crazy. A-And, honestly absurd. I'll have no part in this lunacy!"

“So you’re okay with your husband’s divorce?”

Julia stopped just before her hand reached the door. Though she didn't turn around, she said, "What do you mean?" Her voice was tinged with fear despite her attempts to hide it.

“When you made your appointment, I did a little digging on your husband,” said Marcus, lying as naturally as he breathed. “Digging into his soul, of course. My abilities allow me to do so.”

He stood up and strode over to Julia. “He’s growing increasingly dissatisfied with your union. Every little action, every little word, every little annoyance from you pushes him more and more towards the arms of another.” While Marcus remained stone-faced, he was smirking inside as beads of sweat cascaded down Julia’s brow. 

Perfect.

“A young woman your age already divorced? What will the neighbors think? Your friends? Your family? But,” he shrugged and made his way back to his desk, “if you insist that you don’t need my services, I can do nothing about that. I sincerely wish the two of you a happy marriage. However long it lasts.”

Julia excused herself to go to the bank but promised she would return with the payment.

Marcus’ target was a man by the name of Trevor. Attractive, admirable, and breakable. All it would require was a few weeks in his body and Marcus’ job would be finished. Julia had signed the contract, so his body was completely available.

That was the limit to Marcus’ powers. Without some sort of consent from one who at the very least shared the name or a bond with his target, he was unable to do anything. Now, all Marcus had to do was take over Trevor’s body.

But first, Marcus was curious about what was going to happen in their ordinary lives. While Julia had given him a whole list of things that she wished Trevor would do, Marcus skimmed it before throwing it away. For the most part, his clients didn't know what they wanted—and what they did was something ridiculous like 'makes me breakfast in bed every single day.' It was all nonsense straight out of a soap opera. Marcus preferred to just take a look at what pissed his client off and doing a few favors here and there. The only part of Julia's list that Marcus even remotely paid attention to was, "Being more open to pegging."

Other than that, Marcus would just sit by and watch how a typical morning went for the couple. He made his way to the address Julia had provided him during their meeting in an astral form and peeked into their lives.

“God, another spill, Jules?” Trevor groaned as he looked down at his stained pants. “C'mon." While Julia let out a stream of apologies, Trevor just rolled his eyes and said, "I'm trying to get a goddamn promotion here!"

“I-I’m trying…!” Julia said, backing up as Trevor grabbed the empty mug and smashed it on the ground. “Th-That was mine...”

“And so’s the mess,” Trevor shot back. “When you’re the breadwinner in this relationship, you can decide what does and doesn’t get broken.” With that, Trevor left to get changed while Julia cleaned up the kitchen.

That was all Marcus needed to see. The bastard needed a major attitude adjustment. His wife was a complete klutz, but there was no need to bite her head off for making a mistake. Marcus didn't feel any particular sympathy for Julia, but assholes like Trevor pissed him off to no extent. "Only natural," Marcus said to himself. "Assholes hate assholes. Don't like pricks like him on my turf."

Floating over to Trevor and Julia’s room, he admired the assets he would borrow for the next few days. Trevor’s pants were off, allowing Marcus to get a nice glimpse of the package he would be showing off for the next few days. Along with that were nice, juice thighs and a good chest peeking out of the nice polo shirt he wore. No longer able to resist, Marcus just dove towards Trevor.

"HNNG! What the fuuuuck?!" Trevor moaned as Marcus phased through his back. Entire body tensing up, Trevor stood in place, his back arching while his head was thrown back. Feet planted to the floor, he moaned in pleasure and panic. "Wh-Who the hell?! What the—HAA! Ahhh…! What the fuck are youuuu?!" Unable to keep his balance amidst the barrage of pain and pleasure mixing, Trevor collapsed onto his bed, convulsing uncontrollably as the foreign intruder wore him like a suit.

“Mmm,” Marcus moaned, rubbing his hard-on against the mattress. “Oh, that’s niiice. Thanks, Julia.” Still face-down on the bed, he spread his legs and let his hands wander towards a certain untouched hole. “Don’t worry, I’ll turn your hubby into the subbiest bottom in town.”

Purposefully ignoring Julia, Marcus left the house and headed towards Trevor’s place of work, relying on muscle memory and the information Julia had given him for navigation. Eventually, he arrived at some fancy insurance firm full of suits who looked like they could use a healthy dose of Viagra.

Once more, Marcus relied on Trevor's muscle memory to guide his way through work. And once settled into Trevor's impersonal cubicle, Marcus began his work. At once, he worked on smiling more in Trevor's body. Man was a creature of habit and the human mind was a sponge for information and mannerisms. Because of that, Marcus would adopt certain behaviors for the week or so he would be in his hosts' bodies. The end result was a spouse that would compliment their partner far more.

On all levels, it was wrong. However, Marcus continued without losing a wink of sleep.

After making sure Trevor was smiling more, Marcus also stretched and relaxed his muscle. "God, you're so tense," he mentioned as he rolled his shoulders back. "Or, I'm so tense." Grinning, Marcus continued chatting to himself. It was always fun getting into a role. Perhaps it was his theater kid days, but adopting a new identity was always fun. "I should get more into yoga," he said, stretching as much as he could in that uncomfortable suit. "Do some squats. It'll help me make my ass all nice and firm. Flexibility'll be nice in the bedroom for Jules," he proclaimed, repeating it to himself to make sure it remained imprinted to Trevor.

To make sure those thoughts remained in Trevor's head, Marcus headed off to the gym after each workday. He worked until Trevor's already well-developed muscles were pleasurably sore by the time he arrived back home. "Keep acting as though I'm Trevor," Marcus had texted Julia before. "It'll make it easier for these thoughts to stick to your husband." His words didn't ease Julia's awkwardness, but Marcus didn't mind. Working with pathetic actors wasn't anything new for him.

By the final day of Marcus' planned stay, Trevor's boss called him into his office. "You're not in trouble," his boss, a man by the name of Arthur said. "Just wanted to catch up with you, is all." His words were even, but Marcus noticed that his gaze was not. Arthur's eyes kept traveling and his fingertips kept grazing Trevor as much as they could while retaining that facade of professionalism. "I've noticed your recent change in attitude. Rumors travel quickly throughout the office."

“When there’s not much to talk about,” Marcus began, “it’s easy to become the talk of the town.”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. “Your attitude and your tongue’s changed, Trey. I'm surprised but pleased. Productivity for the whole office has gone up this week. And your more positive attitude has really helped with that. I've noticed the environment in general is a lot less toxic."

“Sorry about that, sir,” Marcus said with a curt nod. Yet, he made sure to keep a cocky, inviting smirk on his face. The blood was rushing to Arthur’s cheeks despite his stony expression. “Hadn’t realized how much my attitude had an impact on the office. But I’m sure you’ll be just as satisfied as my wife about the new me.” By now, Marcus was happily rubbing his thighs, making sure they stood out alongside his bulge in those tight slacks he had purchased for Trevor. During the week, he had made a habit of dropping his things and bending over to reach for them in front of his various coworkers. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, he was certain about the office spent more than half a second staring at Trevor’s assets.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Yes, well. Nonetheless, just wanted to show my appreciation for this sudden turn. Always happy to see my workers in a relaxed, pleasant environment.”

Standing up, Marcus leaned in close to Arthur’s lips. “I can think of a few other ways you can show your appreciation, boss,” he whispered, unbuckling his belt. This same scenario had played out so many times Marcus was certain his gaydar was impeccable. “Why don’t you bend me over your desk and show me who the boss is?”

Arthur hesitated for about a second before locking the office door and tying Trevor’s mouth shut with his own tie. “Take! This! You! Slut!” Arthur roared as he pounded Trevor’s ass raw. Marcus, back arched, face pressed up against the cold desk, just moaned like a slut. He eagerly met each of Arthur’s thrust with his strong workout for his hips.

This is my favor for you, Julia, he thought as Arthur pulled on his hair. Your husband’s hole might not be as tight as you want it to be, but he’ll definitely be up for stuff up his ass by the time I leave.

"Make me your bottom bitch," Marcus begged, trapped in a nirvana of pleasure and pain.

The next time Marcus saw Julia and Trevor the two of them were walking down the back, arms linked. Both were smiling and laughing so animatedly that Marcus was certain the songbirds were jealous. On occasion, he spotted Julia lightly slapping Trevor's ass and her husband reddening like a tomato at the sensation.

Marcus returned home satisfied at another successful trip.

[emmanelson]

It Started Out With a Kiss

i’d say I’m sorry for this filth but who are we kidding? more trash under the cut including speechless ben, possessive paxton and some very steamy, very public smut. also found on ao3 here.

request.

“I’m sure there’s a bed in the other room.”

Paxton’s allowed to be petty and a bit possessive as he latches onto his girlfriend’s waist and drags her behind the wall that separates them from the rest of the party and leads into the hallway. He catches Ben Gross’ eye over the duration of the evening one too many times now. The last fuck he gave flew out the window and now he dares the underclassman to pretend to stumble in their direction.

So when he hears Devi’s comment, in rather uneven breaths mind you, a laugh is bubbling against his throat. She would retract her statement the second he tells her they are at Trent’s house, and his friend probably masturbated in every single room of the house. It’s going to make his plan seem genius. His fingers skim the outline of her dress and he edges his tongue into her mouth, knowing exactly what buttons to press in order to get her in the mood. Which was more often than not because she thought about sex probably more than any girl he knew.

“No, I want you. Right here. Right now.” The firmness in his answer only weakens her resolve and soon heat is radiating off her body. Screw the party.

“Why here? We could just wait till we get back to your house?” His lips nibble on her ear and she’s struggling to find a reason to turn him down, his erection rubbing against her core.

“Guess you’re just that irresistible. It’s really your fault if you think about. If you didn’t show up looking so hot, I could concentrate on beer pong or whatever Trent and Marcus are currently trying to blow up in the backyard.”

It’s been months and she still can’t get used to the compliments coming from him. His breath is hot on her neck and just as his tongue brushes against her parted lips, she pulls back, gently lifting his head up to meet hers as she attempts to catch her breath.

“What brought this on?” She’s never seen Paxton this agitated by something, or someone before. Or this handsy.

At previous parties, he flirted sure, but in the past few gatherings they attended, they were practically attached at the hip. If Paxton didn’t have an arm slung over her shoulder or kept their fingers intertwined as Trent praised Eleanor’s latest performance, he was whispering in her ear or placing a hand on her hip. Even Zoe Maytag gave her props in the bathroom and admitted they only ever got to hand stuff and he wasn’t into PDA when he was ‘hanging out’ with her. Devi decided to save this information as future ammo if she needed it.

“I’m sorry but if I have to see Ben fucking Gross look at you with sad puppy dog eyes while blatantly ignoring his own girlfriend one more time, I might just snap. I might just fucking loose it and deck him.” The words are bitter, sharp coming off his tongue and it sends shivers down Devi’s spine. His gaze hardened, eyes getting darker, and her stomach flips, because for a moment he looks like he’s considering murder. And she would help him hide a body without hesitation. He drags his lips to bite down on her neck and she involuntarily throws her head back as her tries to suppress her moans.

“So what’s this going to prove?”

“Well what we obviously already know...That you can’t help jumping me even in public.” He chuckles into her hair as she rolls her eyes. And she thought she was competitive. Paxton and Ben took it to a whole other level. “But seriously, don’t tell me you didn’t notice the guy flaunting his relationship in front of you. It’s like he got some sick joy out of rubbing your nose in his happiness. This is a taste of his own medicine.”

“Who even says he’s going to notice or care?”

“I do. If he attempts to seek out where you went, which he obviously will, what he chooses to do after will either prove me right or you right. That he does care or doesn’t.”

Devi raised an eyebrow, throwing him an are-you-kidding-me glance before Paxton’s lips descended down on hers again. If he wasn’t kissing her lips, he was trailing his tongue down her neck, her shoulders, even her chest bone.

"Excuse me for caring. This whole longing, woe-is-me act was fine or whatever when you were both single. But he’s fucking with my girlfriend, my relationship and I’m not going to pretend to be okay with it.” Once again, his mouth was rough against her ear as leaned against her body and ground his hips against hers. While she wanted to be mad, she also found his protective nature incredibly hot and wasn’t about to say anything to end it anytime soon.

“He’s with Aneesa. I doubt he even thinks about me in that way anymore.” Devi’s voice attempts to reassure him as her fingers comb through his hair.

“I can’t say that I blame him.” His lips start trailing kisses from neck ear all the way to her cleavage, knuckles lightly kneading her breasts through the fabric of the dress. “I mean not only are you insanely hot but you’re also like the smartest person in the whole school. I just wish he wasn’t so obvious about it.”

“Is this you being jealous?” She has a smirk playing on her lips, eyes lit up in a teasing nature.

“I-”

“I just never thought I’d see the day where Paxton Hall-Yoshida got jealous. You’re usually so calm and level-headed.” Her voice falters as he starts stroking her breast, the nipple hardening under his touch.

“What can I say? When I opened my mind to studying, I learned stuff inside and outside of the classroom. For starters, noticing things more often. Noticing Ben for one, the rude comments one minute and longing stares the next.”

“Can we stop talking about him now?” Paxton had dropped to his knees in record time, lifting up her dress and practically diving underneath it, his laugh vibrating against her core.

“You aren’t wearing any underwear.”

“It’s laundry day, didn’t I mention that earlier?”

“Must have slipped my mind. Remind me to thank your mom later.” His joke only registered for a minute before he was seeking out her clit, swirling his tongue around it, repeatedly pushing against her until her legs are convulsing and she’s coming undone around his lips.

Ben’s silhouette hovers, quietly staring at the scene before him in agape. He only sees Devi granted, but it’s not just seeing his ex at a party outside of school, it’s seeing her flat against the wall, eyes closed, shallow breaths becoming audible every few seconds and seeing the way her body physically shook from whatever Paxton was doing to her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. And Ben wanted to call out to them, sneer that this was a public place, someone’s house and if they couldn’t keep their genitals to themselves then they should just leave, but he was momentarily frozen.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Devi’s body begin to come down from its high, Paxton rises and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. To Ben’s horror, it doesn’t end there.

Is she giggling? Paxton just shakes his head and captures his lips with hers again.

He turns his head and meets Ben’s eyes. Devi’s lips begin to attack his neck and he moans, all the while locked in a staring contest with the captain of who knows how many fucking clubs.

This time it’s Paxton wearing a rather smug smile, something that he’s seen on Ben one too many times in History class. Well, this was his History class. One area where he would always outsmart Ben and that in itself was enough to fill him with pride. Finally Devi detaches herself from her boyfriend and gently wipes her makeup remnants off his neck.

“I should probably go reapply my lipstick.” She’s still trying to steady her legs and with a wave of nausea coming over him, Ben is reminded of a conversation that took place months ago. ‘Well tomorrow I won’t be able to walk again because I’m about to go get railed.’ And that she did.

“You don’t have to you know. You look sexy like this.”

“You may think so, but my mom? Not so much Romeo.” Devi’s playfully shoving against his chest as she untangles herself from his arms, the fingers still interlocked until the distance makes it impossible and she’s heading further down the hall towards the bathroom.

“Dude are you just gonna stand there?” Paxton fixes Ben with a hard stare, equal parts creeped out and a little high off his assumption because his point was proven. It was a win-win situation. Satisfy his girlfriend and wipe the stupid smirk off Ben Gross’ face.

Finally Ben forces himself to look away and turns the corner in a hurry.

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Trust (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart.  Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Min Yoongi, the one you trust.

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Rating: Explicit. No minors allowed!

Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits

Word Count: 5.1k

Warning: Yoongi thought OC was a prostitute, oral sex in public restroom, Yoongi oral king (wbk), oral m & f giving and receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (they should’ve known better, please be safe everyone), making of a sex tape

Little Black Book Masterlist

A/N: Completely unedited, as I wrote it between free times I could get, so my deepest apologies for any mistakes made. Hope you enjoy reading it! 💜

~~~

You met Yoongi at an upscale bar. It wasn’t the kind of bar you’d willingly go on your own, but it was the bar your boss chose to impress your clients with expensive wine and cigars. Business talk soon turned into something more lewd, and you soon excused yourself from the party.

You chose to sit on the bar counter, purposely choosing the far end where it was much less crowded. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, nursing your gin and tonic, while waiting for your group to get drunker and drunker, and for when it became your responsibility to ship them home one by one  in taxis.

Yoongi approached you like a cat. Slow, quiet, gaze intense on you. You had caught him out of the corner of your eye, and you instantly liked what you saw. Lithe body clad in all black, jet black hair, feline eyes, and lips pressed into a tight line. He had a mysterious and intimidating aura about him.

He sat himself next to you, then ordered a whiskey. Seeing your half empty glass, he offered to buy you another.

“No thanks,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

Yoongi glanced at your party. “Your group?”

You nodded. “Yup, gotta make sure they all return home safely later.”

“Ah,” Yoongi let out a dry chuckle. “I see.”

“That was a weird laugh.” You told him, narrowing your eyes.

He looked at you, his sharp features looked considerably softer. “Don’t be mad.”

“It never ends well when you start with that.” You warned him.

“You see,” Yoongi brought your gaze to a group of men and women seated not far from where your party was. “I thought you were one of them.”

One of them. The ‘them’ he referred  to  was a group of scantily clad women, throwing themselves onto the men in suits. It didn’t take a genius to know who those women were.

“Seriously? You thought this,” you pointed up and down your work suit, “equals to that?”

Yoongi looked you in the eye and knew you were teasing him. And you really were. You were intrigued by him. And you were hoping Yoongi could be a fun distraction.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he apologized, “some men like skimpy dresses, I however, like suits. Obviously I have better taste than they are.” He smirked at the group.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your legs. You smiled inwardly when you caught his eyes dropping down to your skirt, slightly hiked up from your new sitting position. “I still feel very insulted.”

Yoongi rubbed his chin. “Let me make it up to you.” He leaned forward, and the proximity of his face to yours made your heart beat faster. He was a good looking guy, but with the cockiness in his words, his sexiness level was off the charts.

“Let me,” his voice dropped several octaves, sending a rush of warmth to your core, “eat you out. I’ll give you the best oral of your life.”

You felt your body was instantly lit on fire. Keeping your voice steady, you asked him, “What if I’m not satisfied?”

“I’ll give you my number. And you can call me whenever you need to evaluate my tongue technology skills.”

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t believe the balls on this guy.

“I can’t leave them.” You tipped your head at your group.

“I know for a fact the restroom here is clean.”

Your eyes widened. “How often do you do this here?”

Yoongi shrugged. “My first time tonight. I know the rest room is clean because I used it not ten minutes ago. So?” He hopped off his stool, and offered you his hand.

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Your head still couldn’t believe what was happening, but your core was leaking arousal and you knew which one was making the final decision.

You placed your hand in his, and he smirked. It annoyed you how smug he was, but the way the corner of his lip lifted, it was so sexy. You were done for.

Yoongi led you to one of the  restrooms, he told you the restrooms in the bar were all private so there was no need to worry someone would walk in on you both.

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

Yoongi locked the door. He directed you to lean against the wall. Your hand grabbed the sink next to you for anchor. The way he looked at you was so predatorial. His eyes were sharp and pierced  through yours. The way he licked his lips was like a starved man finally being served his favorite meal.

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d taste since I saw you sitting on that bar all alone.” He looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes. You swallowed. Your throat was suddenly dry. All the liquid in your body was pooling in your panties, you were sure of it.

Yoongi leaned closer to you, pressing your body against the wall. His hands skimmed the hem of your pencil skirt, and looking into your eyes, he slowly inched the material up. His fingers were grazing against your pantyhose, burning your skin through it.

When your skirt was finally bunched up around your waist, you bit your lip to still a whimper, and Yoongi chuckled. His face came even closer to yours, you prepare yourself for the feel of his lips yours.

But he ducked sideways, his mouth aimed at your ear instead. “My name is Yoongi, in case you need to scream it out when you cum on my tongue.”

Your chest heaved and you let out a small moan. His hands had found the waistband of your panties and your pantyhose, but instead of pulling them down- which you were hoping he would, SOON- because you just couldn’t take it anymore- he rubbed against the skin underneath, making you squirm.

He gave you that smug smirk again. And licking his lips, he leaned down to kiss you. Only to be met by your finger. He looked at you quizzically.

“No kissing,” you chided. “You haven’t earned that yet, you smug boy.”

His eyes twinkled at your challenge. “Do I get your name, at least? I’ll spell it with my tongue.” He yanked your panties and pantyhose down. Your knees immediately went jelly, and he chuckled again at your state.

“_______.” You breathed out. He kneeled before you, then helped  you rid of your underclothes to bare yourself to him.

Yoongi hooked your leg over his shoulder. He parted your folds then licked his lips. He could see your sex throbbing, so desperate for a touch.

Keeping his eyes on you, he flicked his tongue over your clit. You gasped loudly. Liking your reaction, he flicked your nub again, but this time putting more pressure on it. He started spelling your name on your clit, as he had promised to do, the pressure from his tongue sending your body into a fiery mess and your arousal dripping into his waiting mouth.

“Did I spell it right?” Yoongi pulled back.

“Fuck yeah.” You rested your head on the wall. Your body felt heavy, and you hadn’t even cummed yet.

“Ready to scream my name, babe?”

You looked down to him. His milky white complexion almost made him look angelic, such an irony to the sinful act he was doing to you. You buried your fingers in his hair and tugged softly.

“Less talking and more doing, hmm?” You directed his head to your dripping core.

You felt the vibration from his chuckle against your dewy lips, and you instantly moaned. With his tongue flat against your sex, he started lapping at you. He was encouraged by your moan and from your grip on his hair.

He found that you liked  having his tongue poking into your hole and sliding up and down your slit. He could tell from your moans how you liked his lips wrapped around your clit  and how he slurped up your juice obscenely. He wanted to finger you, to feel your walls around his digits. But he wanted to see how far his tongue could take you. And soon he got an answer.

Your thighs started shaking, and your moans were getting louder. He tongued your entrance, swirling his organ in and around your hole, eagerly exploring it. He groaned when you ground yourself down against his mouth.

“Close, so close,” you panted, “make me cum, please.”

Yoongi gripped your thighs tighter, pressing his face further in, diving deeper into you. His tongue fucked into your cunt mercilessly, while his nose rubbed against your clit. You felt him pushing you harder and up against the wall, as if anchoring you before your free fall into ecstasy.

And the orgasm came in a mad rush, a white hot explosion that burnt your entire body as you convulsed and shook above Yoongi. He continued to tongue you, groaning and moaning at the drizzle of your nectar oozing out, only slowing down once he felt your body going lax. He massaged your thighs, kissing the skin at the junction of your limbs and your pussy tenderly, until you pushed his head away.

Yoongi looked up to you and grinned. You looked so fucked out, and only from this tongue alone.

“You didn’t scream my name, babe.” Yoongi slowly stood up, his face ghosting over yours. “I’m sad.”

“You’ve got to do it again then.” You could smell yourself on him, a mix of your sex with the alcohol he had had before. “Kiss me, Yoongi.”

He crushed his lips into yours, immediately his wicked tongue invaded your mouth. You sucked on it greedily, and smiled when he groaned. He pulled away, his eyes heavy with lust. He moved your body towards the sink, bending you over it, then he spread your legs wide. You gripped onto the porcelain, and turned your head sideways to be met by your own reflection in the mirror.

Yoongi was above you, pushing your hair away from your neck. He kissed and licked it, sending shivers down your spine. Catching your reflection, he nibbled on your earlobe before pointing his tongue into your ear canal. Satisfied at the way your face crunched and the way you moaned underneath him, he stood up and massaged your ass cheeks.

“You look so sinful, _______ .” His fingers were kneading your flesh hard. “Still dripping too, you really like my tongue that much?”

“Yes.” You sobbed your answer. Your legs were shaking again, from the position they were in but also from the anticipation. You felt Yoongi breathing near your cunt, and automatically bucked your hips, but he held you down, rendering you immobile under his grips.

Yoongi gave you a long fat lick, from the clit all the way to the spot between your pussy and your asshole. “Oh Yoongi, that feels good.”

Taking your cue, he repeated the motion; sometimes spending more time teasing your clit, sometimes sucking on your hole, drinking up your juices, sometimes he went a bit higher, testing your reaction when he licked around your puckered hole. Whatever he did, he sent you deeper and deeper into lustful pleasure.

You felt his tongue stabbing into your pussy again, and his nose deliciously close to your other hole. Your moans were encouraging him, and he moved your ass back and forth, making you rut on his mouth. Without taking his mouth off you, Yoongie shuffled up higher until his tongue reached your asshole. With your arousal thick on his tongue, he circled around the hole and gave it little kitten licks. He growled when you wailed at how good it felt, but still, you were not screaming his name yet. So he continued eating your ass, until you became a whimpering mess, He quickly moved back to your pussy, sucking on it harshly and loudly. The slurping sounds his mouth was making were so loud in the restroom, with only your moans drowning them.

“Yoongi, ah… don’t stop..” you begged.

Yoongi went to overdrive. Hearing you moaned out his name spurred him on. He latched onto your clit now, flicking and sucking it, picking up his pace as your breathing got more laboured.

“Yoon… Yoongi..” you chanted his name like a prayer, and you were getting so close to your second orgasm. Yoongi sensed it too, and he continued to work on your clit, determined he would not stop until you cried with pleasure, with his name on your mouth.

With Yoongi’s tongue on your clit, you reached your second orgasm. “Yoongi!” you screamed as heat erupted from your core to the rest of your body. It was more intense than the first one, and you grabbed onto the sink for dear life. Your body was heaving, your thighs closed tightly around Yoongi’s head, and still, his tongue did not let up. You started to drone out, Yoongi’s name still repeatedly leaving your lips.

Yoongi stood up, then pulled you up from the sink, to hug you from behind. You were still recovering from your orgasm, and he wrapped your shaking body with his arms. His lips were all over your neck, kissing you softly as you returned back to earth.

When he felt your breathing had steadied, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You scoffed weakly. “You’re all sweet now you’ve heard me scream your name?”

Yoongi smiled against your hair. “Come home with me.”

You stiffened and pushed yourself out from Yoongi’s arms. Grabbing your pantyhose and your underwear, you asked Yoongi to turn around as you put them back on. Yoongi stayed silent, still waiting for your answer.

Smoothing down your skirt, you moved to the mirror by the sink to ensure you still looked presentable, and not like someone who had just had two orgasms in a public restroom. Yoongi stared at you through the mirror. Do you want to go home with him? God yes, you thought, if he could make you feel that good with his tongue alone, you definitely wanted to find out what the rest of him could do. But, as much as you wanted a warm body next to you, you wanted to make him suffer a bit.

“Give me your number.” You fished your phone out of your purse. Yoongi recited his number.

“I’ll get in touch, okay? And thanks for the two mind blowing orgasms.”

Yoongi laughed, nodded then waved you off. You felt a little bad, so you gave him a long lingering kiss before you exited the restroom.

~~~

Yoongi didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out. Three days after your encounter, you found yourself clocking yet another overtime, and feeling frustrated as hell. You sent him a text.

== [22:15] Hey, it’s _______ . From the bar. What are you doing?

== Yoongi-Bar [22:16] Depends on what you’re doing

== Yoongi- Bar (22:16] Didn’t think you’d contact me tbh

== [22:17] Aw, sorry to keep you waiting. Was wondering if your tongue is up for some workout?

You felt rather nervous seeing three blue dots appearing and disappearing. Was that too forward? It couldn’t be, from the way he approached you that night, this had got to be up his alley.

== Yoongi-Bar [22:19] I’m still at work. But you’re welcome to come (lol). Here’s my address. Text me when you;ve arrived. I’ll come down to get you.

In less than half an hour, you arrived at his office, which turned out to be a music studio. Ten minutes after that, you were on his desk, spread-eagle, with his head between your legs. Less than five minutes after your orgasm, you returned the favor, giving him what he claimed to be the best blowjob of his life. Shortly after midnight, the two of you were eating over-seasoned ramen at a nearby pochajang.

~~~

Your arrangement with Yoongi was a comfortable one. There was definitely lust at first sight between the two of you, but the chemistry started and ended there. You were both too career-minded to even consider a relationship, and so you settled being each other’s booty calls. Funnily enough, a friendship was formed too. You both would vent about your bosses and clients while getting dressed after your mind-blowing fuck sessions, and you sent each other encouraging messages too during stressful times. And most times, those messages included photos of body parts that would send your panties wet or give him uncomfortable hard-ons.

Four months after your first encounter, Yoongi told you he was going on a world tour with his artists. He would be away for six months, jumping from timezone to timezone, so it would be difficult to arrange a time for a regular online hook-ups.

“Yoongi, I’m pretty sure you can find someone during your tour stops.”

“I don’t want random women though. I’m comfortable with you. And safe.” He nearly whined.

“I can draft up an NDA if you’re worried about them going to some tabloids or something.”

He leaned back in his chair. “No. I don’t want that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, what do you want, then?”

“Let’s make a sex tape.”

You burst out laughing at Yoongi’s suggestion, but you immediately stopped when you saw the look on his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nodded thoughtfully, “watching it would help me jerk off and therefore it would be relaxing, and we wouldn’t have to constantly figure out the time difference…. “

“Well what’s in it for me?” You cut off his lame reasonings.

“The satisfaction that the country’s most successful music producer is jacking off to you.”

“Most successful, huh?” 

“Babe, I’ll be at the top before you know it.” You sometimes forgot what a smug bastard he was. 

You thought about it. You were not going to lie that the idea of making a sex tape with Yoongi was making you extremely excited. And the thought of him touching himself while watching himself and you, well it was fucking hot. And most importantly, you trusted him, you really did. If you were ever to document your sexual acts, Yoongi was the best person to do it with in your books.

“Our faces cannot be visible.” You set out your terms. “And we’d have to do it where no one would trace it back to your place or mine.”

Yoongi nodded.

“And you’d have to keep it somewhere safe. Not in some cloud or wherever that can be hacked.”

Yoongi tapped his hard-drive. “It’d stay with my unpublished songs.” The safest place indeed, he guarded those works with his life.

“OK, when should we do it?”

~~~

You decided to film your sex tape a week before Yoongi left. Yoongi was setting up the camera in the hotel room you had booked. Once done, he rehearsed the positions you both would be doing to ensure none of your faces would be visible.

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re really setting the mood right now! Can we just start? It’s been half an hour!” You threw yourself on the bed.

Yoongi muttered. “Fine, fine, we’ll edit it or something later. Come on babe, lie there, in the middle.”

You positioned yourself in the space where Yoongi had pointed. You were already naked, and you watched Yoongi undress. “Remember, don’t scream my name no matter how much you want to.” He warned.

“Min Yoongi, just fucking start.”

Yoongi chuckled as he pressed the record button. Then with his back to the camera, he climbed onto the bed. Spreading your legs, he made himself comfortable between them. Your hands immediately went to his hair; he loved having his hair tugged and pulled when he went down on you.

He knew what you loved too. He knew you loved it when he spread your lips apart, exposing your sex  to him. When he licked up and down your slit like he was savoring a melting ice cream cone. When he inserted a finger to tease your hole after he got you all soaked and dripping. When he inserted a second finger as he wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked on it. When he moved his body up to lie on top of yours, to kiss you and give you a taste of yourself while his fingers were pumping you.

And when he pushed in a third finger, you moaned into his mouth, which sent him grinding his hips against yours. His free hand grabbed your breast, massaging it before his fingers pinched and tugged your nipple. He broke the kiss, and he rose up to look at you.

“So sexy babe.” He whispered to you. You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly and enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. Yoongi made his way back down, kissing and sucking both your nipples, before his head was between your legs again.

His fingers were covered in your slick; you had gotten so wet and he could feel your walls pulsating around his fingers. His mouth went back to your clit as he curled his fingers in you. You arched your back, biting your lip for you nearly moaned out his name. Yoongi felt the pressure building in you, so he licked and sucked your clit harder while his fingers were stretching your cunt.

Your grip in Yoongi’s hair was getting tighter as you were getting closer to your release. He recognised the signal, familiar with your body by now, and he sped up his movements. He groaned into your pussy, encouraging you to let go and fall into your climax.

You came, with your legs shaking and sandwiching Yoongi’s head, and your back arched, your stiff nipples pointing to the ceiling. Yoongi let go of your clit, but he kept his fingers moving in and out of you at a slower pace. Kissing your way up, he nuzzled your neck, waiting for you to come down from your high. You blinked a few times and swallowed to wet your dry throat.

“Want me to suck you?” You asked softly. Yoongi shook his head.  He pulled his fingers out and rubbed your arousal on his cock, lubricating it.

“I wanna fuck you now.” He got on his knees and grabbed your legs to push them back towards your chest.

This was his favorite position; it gave him a clear view of his cock sliding into your pussy and of your boobs bouncing as he pounded into you. You grabbed the back of your knees, opening yourself to him, and he guided his hard cock to enter your cunt.

You gasped softly as you felt the head breached your entrance. Despite his fingers having stretched you, your pussy still fought against the intrusion. Yoongi watched your face as he continued to push himself in. Your face contorted as he bottomed out in you, and he grinded on you to push himself deeper.

You moaned loudly at the pressure on your lower abdomen. It felt too full, but you whined when Yoongi pulled back. It was too empty, but not for long, as he slammed his cock back into you. He started to piston hard and fast, battering your pussy.

You pulled your knees back further until they were next to your bouncing tits. Yoongi groaned at the new angle and you sobbed over how your cunt was being impaled over and over.

Yoongi leaned further down, resting his forehead on yours, and your pants and moans were mixed together. His cock was jackhammering at a maddening pace, and his balls were slapping against your ass. The sounds of skin slapping against skin were deafening, along with the wanton slick noises of his cock plunging into your pussy like an erotic juicer.

“I want to suck you.” You declared between pants. “I want your cum in my mouth, babe.”

Yoongi growled and rammed his cock in, keeping it fully sheathed in you. You then wrapped your arms around each other, and keeping your heads down, he flipped you over so that you were on top. You pulled yourself off Yoongi’s cock, and you both whined at the action.

You left trails of kisses down Yoongi’s body, from his mouth, to his chin, his neck, chest, abdomen till you met his cock, still glossy and covered in your arousal. You positioned your body so that your ass was sticking up and your legs slightly spread to give a peak of your swollen pussy, hoping it would be smack centre in the frame of the video.

You licked the head of Yoongi’s cock like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his precum mixed with your own juices. You stuck your tongue out to lap around the head while your hands cradled his balls. Then you licked up and down his shaft, replacing the liquid from your pussy with your own saliva.

“Oh fuck, don’t tease, babe.”

Humming, you wrapped your lips tightly around the head of his cock, and then slowly moved down to take him in. You felt his hips buck, and you immediately relaxed your throat to take as much of him as you could. When your nose bumped against the thin trail of hair on his skin, you flattened your tongue on his shaft and you started to bob your head up and down.

You glanced up to see Yoongi’s chest falling  and rising sharply. You tightened your lips around him some more and you picked up your pace, hungry and greedy for his cum, but also being even more aroused by his moans and the thought of him watching this video you were taping later on when he was away.

So, keeping one hand on his balls, your other reaches down between your legs to rub your clit. Still feeling sensitive, you moaned at your own touch against his cock. You felt him jerk again, his cock twitched in your mouth. You rubbed your clit faster, knowing the vibrations from your moans were adding an extra sensation for Yoongi.

“Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Yoongi warned as he grabbed your head, pressing it down on him. You closed your eyes and took him in, you felt spurts of his cum spraying into your throat, and you rubbed and pressed on your clit relentlessly, driving yourself towards your own release.

Once Yoongi’s cock had  gone soft and your own heart beat returned to normal, you dragged yourself back up and laid yourself on top of Yoongi.

“Stay down,” he whispered, “I gotta turn off the camera.”

Yoongi stood up, still careful to ensure his face was not in the frame, and stopped the recording. He went back to bed with the camera.

“You wanna watch?”

You nodded. Yoongi pulled you up so you sat in front of him, your back to his chest. Your heart started beating fast again.

Yoongi pressed play, and you both giggled a bit in embarrassment when your naked bodies came into frame. Embarrassment soon turned into excitement, however,  and Yoongi swiftly put your legs over his, and held them open as his free hand zeroed in on your pussy.

“Wet again.” He commented as he ran his finger along your slit.

You felt a growing erection behind you. You reached back to stroke it. “Hard again.”

“What time is check out tomorrow?” He nibbled your ear.

“Ahh,” you moaned. “I requested for a late check out.” You squeezed his cock.

“Mmmh,” he groaned. “You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, babe.”

You sighed lustfully as you felt his finger going back into your pussy.

“Worth it.”

—-

Today

You stop the video right before Yoongi in the tape starts cumming. You haven’t watched this video in a while, and you realise that watching it doesn’t elicit any reactions now, unlike before.

You sigh wistfully. You miss Yoongi. You miss hanging out with him, as friends. He’s been back from the tour for a few months now, and he has indeed become one of- if not the most- sought after producer, just as he promised he would be.

You have stayed in touch when he was away. Mostly through texts, teasing each other with r-rates photos, and he also shared his feelings over the world tour and the wonders he experienced watching thousands of foreign fans singing along to his songs. You were proud of him.

Somehow he also remembered all your important court dates and the clients who were driving you nuts, and he made sure you got enough encouragement to push through. You were grateful for his support.

He called you a few times once he had returned, and as much as you want to see him, you have been putting him on the back burner as you navigate your relationship with your new boyfriend. You realise it is about time you break the news to Yoongi- he’s not just a mere fuck-buddy to you, he’s become your friend. He deserves to know.

You dial his number, and after a few rings, he answers.

“Hey _______ ,” he drawls, “what’s up.”

“Hey Yoon. How are you doing?”

“Busy, still in the studio.” You glance at your clock. Eleven pm. Nothing has changed. “Wanna come over?”

You smile into the phone. “Sorry Yoon, I don’t think I can come over anymore.”

“Oh.”

“I’m seeing someone, like seriously.” You try to explain.

“Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you.” He sounds sincere. “He must be someone special.”

“Thanks. He is.”

Silence falls between you. It isn’t awkward, and you can imagine him smiling softly at the other hand.

“Uh, I’d still like us to hang out though, as friends.” You offer.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear. “Great. Maybe I can introduce you to him too.”

He chortles. “Seriously? You think that’s a good idea?”

“Well you’re my friend!”

“A friend who filmed a sex tape with you.”

You purse your lips. “Well he doesn’t need to know about that. Do you still have it by the way?”

“Yeah, I don’t watch it as often as I thought I would though.” He laughs. “Tour and work sucks out all my energy.”

You laugh along with him. “What a shame.”

“I will delete it, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

You surprise yourself when you shake your head and reject his suggestion hastily. “No, no, you don’t have to.”

“______, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answer with conviction. “Consider it as a fuck buddy parting gift.”

Yoongi laughs again. “Kinda feel you trust me too much, babe.”

“Ah Yoongi-ah,” you giggle. “I’ve always trusted you, don’t you know that?”

Published 20012021

[softmatcha]

a cosmetic shop misunderstanding

eijirou kirishima x reader (cosmetic store! au)

warnings: swearing

genre: fluff

word count: 2k

a/n: ngl the idea for this story was much better in my head,, anyway!! this is my first story sO ... thank u for reading !!

“Thank you, Miss! We hope to see you again soon!” your voice rings out, as you flash a customary professional smile at the customer striding out of the shop. Unfortunately, your “Retail Sales Assistant” job has so far successfully proven to be as mundane a job you thought it would have been when you applied for it, but the location of the cosmetic shop you work part-time at is only a stone’s throw away from your apartment. Importantly, the paycheck that comes in every month has really helped to take a load off your tuition debt.

You glance at the clock hanging by the cashier. The second-hand crawls at a mockingly slow pace. It would be another hour until you could finally hurry home to the comfort of your bed. The crowd has been gradually thinning as night slowly creeps in. The large glass panel at the front of the shop gives you a good view of the streets, and you can see everyone in this bustling city rushing to their next destination. There is really nothing much left to be done in the shop now that customers are sparse, but you decide to make yourself useful by tidying up the shelves near you. Immersed in arranging the colours of the lipstick on the shelf, you fail to realise someone standing next to you.

“Excuse me!” a voice barks out from behind you, in fact, too loudly. You jump a little in surprise, and the lipsticks in your hands fall right out of your grip.

Before you can react, the owner of the voice swiftly catches them just before they land on the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” he exclaims. Looking flustered, he passes the lipstick back to you.

“It’s okay, that was a good catch though! Do you need any help?” you say, placing the lipsticks back on the shelf as you looked up to face him.

Oh my god, he’s actually kinda cute, you think as your eyes meet his brilliant red ones. He smiles at you sheepishly.

“Well, I want to get a present for someone, but I didn’t know which one to choose...” he answers. “I mean look, I picked these, but they all look the same to me!” he groans, stretching his hands out to show you the colours he has been holding in his hands.

You glance at the few colours he chose, and stifle a laugh. “Well, I’m not too sure which one the person you are getting the gift for likes. But just to be safe, let’s not choose this colour, yeah?” you respond, pointing at the bright magenta lipstick in his hand.

He furrows his brows in confusion. “But that’s the one Barbie uses..” he mumbles, but nods his head and places it back on the shelf.

Okay, he is adorable.

“Well this one,” you point to another colour on the shelf, “is really popular now and it’s nearly impossible to go wrong with this colour!”

“Really?” he chirps, eyes lighting up. He peers at it for a moment in deep thought and continues, “Yeah, I’ll take this then!”

“Sure! Is there anything else you want to get?“ you ask.

He shakes his head as you lead him to the cashier.

“Hey, thank you for helping me! I’m sure she’ll love it!” he says, as he stands across from you at the cash register.

She? Right, he’s probably getting it for his girlfriend...

Your heart drops a little. You should have known.

“Thank you for coming! We hope to see you again soon!” you chirp with feign enthusiasm as you pass him his item. You hope your smile successfully hid your disappointment.

“Well, I hope to see you again soon too,” he mutters.

“Sorry did you say anything?” You lean in, raising your eyebrows.

“It’s nothing! Thank you!” he flashes a quick smile and makes a beeline for the exit.

You don’t expect to see him a week later, but is that’s exactly what happens. Working your usual evening shift, you peer out of the large glass window of the shop again (it was a good way to pass time) to see the masses of individuals hurrying home for the night. You feel - rather, hear - your stomach grumbling and your legs aching. You took an extra shift this morning for an absent co-worker, and your body is simply exhausted from standing nearly the entire day. Suddenly, your eyes meet that of the red-haired man from the week before - the cute one who bought the lipstick for his girlfriend. You don’t remember most of the customers you have served, but his bright smile and brilliant red hair had indeed left an impression on you. He seems relieved or maybe delighted to see you, and he swiftly makes his way towards you.

“Welcome back! How can I help you today?” you grin as he approaches you.

“You still remember me?” he marvels. His eyes open a little wider.

“Yeah! Your red hair wasn’t really that easy to forget!” You chortle. And neither were your eyes or your cute smile or your adorable laughter- ok. you really need to get a grip.

“Really?” he says. A light red tinge slowly creeps up his cheeks. “Oh! Um... Well, I- I need to get...” His eyes dart around the shop. “Moscuro! Yes!” he exclaims.

You chuckle, “I think you mean … Mascara?”

He gazes at you bewildered, and his eyes shift back to the sign on the other side of the store. He squints a little.

“Yes, mascara! That’s what I meant!” He says as you let out a small laugh, leading him towards it.

“Hey…” he glances at your employee tag, “y/n, right? Is it okay if I call you that?” He asks.

“Of course!” you pipe out, beaming at him.

“You can call me Kirishima!” he says, as he flashes his confident toothy smile at you. “And I think I’ll get this!” He grabs an item off the shelf. Or rather, he blindly grabs an item off the shelf. A few moments later, both of you are at the cash register again.

“And here’s your item Kirishima! Thank you!” You smile at him as you hand his item over the cashier counter.

“Hey y/n, I was wondering if ... you know.. I could get your number?” he speaks with a little uncertainty.

Your heart soars. holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. he’s asking for my number.

He smiles at you with the silliest smile on his face. 

This can’t be happening. 

Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? And this whole time you thought he was a decent guy. Flirting with other girls behind her back? What an asshole.

“I’m sorry Kirishima, but employees are not allowed to give our phone numbers to customers.“ You respond tactfully as you tried to hide your scowl.

“Ah…” His lips press into a thin line, the shine in his eyes disappears. Nonetheless, he seemingly regains his composure quickly and gives a tiny smile. 

“It’s okay then!” he laughs it off, “Thank you anyway!”

———

It’s been a while since you’ve seen Kirishima around, which is a huge relief. Two weeks ago, your heart would have nearly leapt out of your mouth if you saw him, but right now you are content with his absence. The last thing you want is to be involved in a drama with him and his girlfriend.

Your co-worker elbows you gently, knocking you out of your trance.

“Psst y/n, see that guy standing outside? He’s hot, right? He actually dropped by a few times last week.“ Your co-worker whispers, nudging your gaze to his direction.

You look around puzzled, before your gaze lands on a familiar redhead.

“You don’t mean Kirishima, do you? The red-haired one? He came by a few times last week?” you question.

“Kirishima? That’s his name? Yes, the red-haired one! He’s cute, isn’t he?” your co-worker replies excitedly. She continues in a hushed voice, “You weren’t there when he came, but you should have seen how disappointed he looked every time he left! I wonder what he’s looking for!”

Or rather… who. You force a smile and quickly make an excuse to leave as you hurry to a corner of the store before Kirishima could spot you. You don’t really want to engage in a conversation with him right now. Sure he is cute, but that definitely beside the point. And him coming back again? You have this gut feeling that it was for you.

“Hey y/n!” A boisterous voice calls out to you.

oh fuck.

You turn around and plaster the most professional smile you could on your face. “Do you need help with anything today?” you robotically respond.

“Yeah! I’m thinking of getting a.. a new lipstick!” he says.

“Alright-”

He interrupts, “Actually you know what? I know you can’t give me your number, but can I at least take you out to dinner?”

You take a deep breath. Unbelievable. This two-timing brat actually has the audacity to ask you out.

“Kirishima, you have a girlfriend. You can’t do this when I’m sure she loves you with all her heart and the last thing you should be doing is cheating on her. You can’t just go up to someone else and ask for her number and ask her out even if you’re cute! It-It’s wrong!” you burst out in exasperation.

Fuck. I should have thought this through.

Both of you look at each other for a solid five seconds. Suddenly, he lets out a laugh. He laughs so hard he clutches his stomach and puts his hand up in a “wait” motion as he convulses in laughter.

You glare daggers at him and wait for his laughter to die out. After he calms down, he takes a deep breath, looks you in the eye and announces, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You look at him with a baffled expression. “What do you mean? Weren’t all the items you bought these few weeks for your girlfriend?” You wave your hands around agitatedly.

He directs his gaze at you and cracks up again.

“Well, the last I remember, my mom isn’t my girlfriend.” he pauses, his face distorting a little at the idea of having any other relationship with his mother. He continues, “The first time I came really was to get her a present, but I guess the other times … were just to see you!”

Oh.

oh.

You are quite sure his hair colour pales in comparison to the red flooding your face. Your ears heat up. You don’t possible think you could look him in the eye now. This definitely made your list of “Top 10 Most Embarrassing Moments Ever”. Your mind is entirely blank - a big white canvas. You think about the headache you woke up with this morning. You should have just called in sick today. Maybe you should just pretend you were joking? That you were pulling his leg? 

“I see. ” you blurt out.

Really? I see? That’s all I could say? You internally slap yourself in the face.

“-you for dinner later, right?” Kirishima winks at you and smiles. He eyes twinkle and he looks at you expectantly.

That was smooth. 

Dumbfounded, you nod your head excitedly.

“Okay! Great! I’ll just wait for you outside then!” he says, before turning to walk out of the shop. Suddenly, he swivels sharply and turns around, waving his hands at you and with the biggest grin on his face, he shouts, “Oh and y/n? I think you’re cute too!”

Your face burns in embarrassment as you watch him continue his path out of the shop. You should apologise for the misunderstanding. And you will, when you see him for dinner later.

[junglejimmason]

Buy Me Love

Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader

Summary: You are Duncan’s escort girl and things get complicated when you realize you have feelings for him. 

Warnings: Mentions of prostitution, Oral sex (Male and Female receiving), Fingering, Protected sex. 

Notes: I know prostitution is taboo and if you are uncomfortable with this subject, please, don't read. For the others, I really hope you will enjoy reading this. Thank you! 😘

You were every men’s dream girl, the one they always wanted, the one they were desperately searching for in every woman.

You knew what men were missing and you knew how to give it to them. There was no chase, no games. You buttered those men up, told them what a ‘great lover’ they were, and moaned like a porn star.

Because that was your job, you sold sex and affection for money.

Like others have said before, you belonged to everyone and no one. But you didn’t mind, you liked your job. You were working for a great escort agency, meeting rich men in fancy and expensive hotel rooms, or at their place for an extra fee. Sometimes, you were taken to social events, pretending to be their girlfriend or anything else depending on what you had agreed on earlier.

Long story short, everything was going smoothly—until you met him.

Duncan Shepherd.

Mr. Shepherd, as he often liked you to call him, was not like your regular clients. For started, he was younger than them, probably in his late twenties, and he was very attractive. Duncan was nice enough, not obnoxious and while he was polite and mature, he wasn't overly friendly. He had not weird sexual fetishes or fantasies which was a good change for you. Duncan was into roleplaying and what we could call, passionate erotic sex.

He could be rough or soft, depending on his moods and he was a good fuck. Like, a really good one. So good that you have experimented your first orgasm with a client thanks to him and it was nice not pretending for once. Duncan genuinely wanted you to enjoy yourself as much as he was enjoying himself and you really appreciated that.

After months of great sex and pillowtalks you became very comfortable around each other, you have gotten to know him on a personal level and time seemed to fly by when you were together. You truly liked him, as a client but also as a person and it was reciprocal. Duncan was a good man, You could feel it and you trusted him, so one night after mind-blowing sex, when he questioned you about your real name you just told him, unhesitatingly.

At first, Duncan was asking for your services once a month then twice a month and later, one time a week.

You should have know better.

You were being too close, too friendly and you were thinking about him much more that you wanted to confess. It was wrong, very wrong. Because escorts couldn’t fall for their clients and deep down, you knew you were starting to have strong feelings for Duncan.

It had to stop, so you’ve decided that tonight will be the last time you saw him. You still didn’t know which excuses you could come up with to justifie why you didn’t want to work for him anymore—specially when things were good between you. You could have ask your agency to do that for you but honestly, it didn’t feel right to you.

Tonight, Duncan wanted you to dress up as a secretary. It was his favorite role play sexual fantasy along side with the teacher/student one. Duncan could be such a cliche sometimes but you will be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. On the contrary, you loved it.

So here you were, standing outside the door marked number 606. You wore a black pencil skirt and a white business shirt. You were also wearing glasses to complete your secretary look. Underneath, you wore white suspender belt and lacy underwear, with black stockings.

You were nervous because this was it—the last time. You knocked on the door and exhaled heavily as your heart raced faster.

The door finally opened after a few moment later and there he stood. Duncan smiled sexily when he saw you in your outfit, and you had to swallow the lump in your throat. God, he was so hot.

‘Mr. Shepherd, you wanted to see me, sir?’

He smirked. ‘I did. Please, come in.��

You rolled your lips to hide your smile and walked past Duncan into the room. He closed the door behind you.

You turned to Duncan when you felt him getting closer to you.

‘I'll get straight to the point, Miss your/escort/pseudonym. I know what you did,’ He lifted his chin, his eyes alight with mischief. ‘and I must say, I really hate it when you disobey me.’

You tried to appear defeated and mildly panicked as you continued in your role. ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Shepherd. I promise I won’t do it again.’

Duncan smiled a little sadistically. ‘Oh I know you won’t, Miss y/e/p,’ he paused, probably for dramatic effect, ‘because you are fired.’

you pleaded him with your eyes as you looked desperately into his owns.

‘Please don’t fire me, sir,’ you begged. ‘I really need this job, I—I will do anything but please, don't fire me.’

Duncan licked his lips as his hungry eyes dropped to your breasts. ‘Anything?’

You moved closer to him. ‘Yes. Anything, Mr. Shepherd,’ you whispered in his ear.

Duncan pushed you away from him and said firmly ‘On your knees, now.’

You dropped to your knees and undid his belt, sliding his pants and boxer down swiftly. Duncan's beautiful thick cock sprung free, and you took it into your mouth. He inhaled sharply, his hands moving to the back of your head. You looked up and smiled at Duncan and he gave you a devilish smirk in exchange.

‘Disobedient secretaries need to be punished,’ he began. ‘so I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth, very hard.’

You moaned around his cock, Duncan closed his eyes and grabbed your hair in his hands as he began to slide in and out of your mouth. You looked up at him with tearful eyes, watching him losing control as his pants dropped to his knees.

‘Fuck,’ Duncan moaned and then he hissed when you bared your teeth. ‘Jesus, woman.’

You were probably as much turned on than he was at this point and he hadn’t touched you yet. You did not know how much time has passed but you started to feel your throat burning and suddently Duncan lifted you off the ground and kissed you hard.

When your lips parted he watched you breathless. ‘I want y/n now, no more game, alright?’

You smiled when he took off your glasses, ‘Anything you want, Duncan.’ and kissed him again.

You unbuttoned his shirt and slided it over his shoulders. You took off his shoes, and then his pants before you pushed him back onto the bed. You stood on the bed over him, as he watched you with fire in his eyes. You began to take your shirt off, throwing it onto the floor, and then you slid your skirt down your legs and kicked it off. Duncan reached out for you, but you moved away so you could take off your bra and your panties, leaving you only in your suspender belt and your stockings.

You bent down to position yourself on him but Duncan grabbed you and flipped you over so you were underneath him. He gently kissed your lips, your jawline and then your throat as if he wanted to apologize for being rough earlier and you shivered at the thought. He started to leave wet kisses on your neck and you groaned, you could feel him smiled as he slowly traced his finger over your breast, and then down your stomach, over your pussy.

‘I need to get my tongue between your legs.’ He whispered sensually, letting his teeth playing with your earlobe. 

Your breathing faltered and Duncan started to let his mouth dropped lower and lower, paying attention to each one of your breast and nipples before he came closer to the place you needed him the most. Duncan put your legs on his shoulders and blew on your dripping core. You cursed him and he chuckled. Bastard.

He pulled your pussy apart and licked it. Duncan’s head bobbed back and forth, eyes closed, like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you were. Your breathing were heavier and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning. You were holding the back of his head, pressing him to you and Duncan spread your legs to gave himself better access. Your body began to tingle when he pushed two fingers in and you cried out, Duncan was licking and sucking at your clit simultaneously. He pumped you with two fingers, then three, and the bed began to rock.

Duncan smiled as he watched your face. “You like that, baby?” he whispered.

‘Hmm, yes, Duncan—but I need more, please.’

‘Define more,’ He said with a cocky grin.

You rolled your eyes at him, trying to hide a smile. ‘Your cock, I need your big cock, Duncan.’ you dramatically moaned and he laughed.

Removing his fingers from you, he bited your clit and kissed your pussy one last time. ‘Anything you want, y/n.’ He winked at you.

Duncan rolled a condom on and positioned his body between your legs. He kissed you so you could taste yourself on his tongue as he started to rub his cock over your pussy and you moaned in each other mouth.

He pushed himself inside of you and you whimpered at the feeling. Duncan stayed still for a bit and then he finally moved to slide out of you, but only for a moment, and then he was sliding back home where he belonged. He kissed you again as he pulled out and slide back in. Duncan did over and over, until, somehow, you were going hard at it. 

The sound of your skin slapping together echoed all around the room. You gripped his shoulders as a shudder runned through you. You were so close. ‘Duncan,’ you panted.

“Let it go. I've got you, baby”

You began to moan, and he smiled down at you. “That’s it. Give it up for me.”

You cried out and convulsed, coming hard as you looked deep in Duncan’s eyes. Your breaths was strained as you tried to control your breathing. Duncan growled, losing control, and he scrunched his features together, pounding into you hard. So fucking hard. When he came, he hold himself still, deep inside of you before he convulsed forward. 

Breathlessly, Duncan kissed your neck and then, your lips before falling to the bed next to you.

‘Damn it, y/n—you blow my fucking mind, every time.’ He chuckled and you took a deep breath.

Next time. You will tell him that you quit, next time.

[builder051]

Okay but... can you imagine how sick Peter would be if he ate a bunch of left over Halloween candy thinking it'd be fine in the morning cause of his metabolism but then Tony called and he had to swing around the city for a while? He'd probably manage to keep it down until he got to the tower and then he'd dizzily stumble towards the bathroom but end up loosing it in the hallway on Tony's shoes since Tony was concerned about him and grabbed Peter's shoulder to spin him around or something...

Thank you so much for this!  It’s possibly the most excellent prompt ever!  And you @wiseinnerwhispers, you make the world go ‘round with all the support and love you give.  

So here you go.  I think I messed up the details a little bit, and I don’t even want to talk about the timeline.  But this does take place right after my last Spiderman fic, No sympathy.

___

Peter wakes and immediately looks at the clock.  It’s 6:59. His alarm will be blaring in a minute. He blearily reaches out to turn of the device before it can startbeeping at him.  May’s given himpermission to miss school if he still feels as sick as he did yesterday, but asPeter lifts his head, there’s no echoing throb. It’s a relief.

He slides out of bed and heads to the bathroom to wash hisface and brush his teeth, stepping a little harder than he normally would justto test his luck.  The resultantvibrations die out around his shins and leave his head alone, and the taste oftoothpaste doesn’t turn his stomach, so Peter decides he’s ok.  

He kicks it into high gear and goes back to his bedroom todress and pack up his backpack.  Petergrabs his suit from the back of his desk chair where he’d thrown it last night,shakes it, and gives it an experimental sniff. It’s a little sweaty, but the god-awful scent of homeless man’s potsmoke has dissipated.  He wads up thespandex fabric and tucks it into the bottom of his backpack.  

Peter barrels through the kitchen, almost knocking AuntMay’s orange juice to the floor as he throws pop tarts into the toaster andlooks for something to toss in his bag for lunch.

“Feeling better this morning?” May asks, looking up from thenewspaper.  

“Oh, yeah,” Peter says, still scanning the pantry.  “I don’t know what hit me, but I’m finenow.”  He spies a half-finished bag ofcandy corn and a handful of fun-size Milky Ways, and Peter sweeps them into hisbackpack.

“Maybe just had to clear your system,” May suggests.  Then, “Are you taking all my candy?”

“Um.”  Peter hastensto put a few of the chocolates back.

“No, go ahead,” May says, smiling to show she was joking thefirst time.  “You didn’t really get tocelebrate last night.”

“But, I mean, I could leave some.”

“Take it.  Or I will eat it all, and I can’t afford newjeans,” May jokes.  “I’d give a lot tohave that teenaged boy metabolism.”

“Hm,” Peter muses, feeling a little guilty that his growinghunger lately has forced an increase in the grocery budget.  He forgoes dropping cheese crackers into hisbackpack as well.

The toaster spits out the pop tarts, and Peter takes one ineach hand, clamped between his thumbs and index fingers so the steaming pastrieswon’t burn him.  “See ya, May,” Petercalls, transferring one pop tart to his mouth as he lets himself out the frontdoor.

“See ya,” May echoes.

Peter wolfs down his breakfast as he dashes to school.  He hadn’t realized the hunger gnawing at thecorners of his stomach, but now that he thinks about it, he didn’t have much ofa dinner last night, and most of it ended up splatted on a street corner and inthe toilet.  It makes the pop tarts tasteextra good, like the food of the gods. Which, who knows? Maybe they are.

His morning classes pass quickly, and Peter does his best tofocus on algebra and chemistry and history even though his mind is on otherthings.  He didn’t do that great of a jobof patrolling the neighborhood last night, and he forgot to call Mr. Stark andleave a message.  A mission report.  If Mr. Stark asks about it, he’ll just tellthe truth and say he was sick, which is perfectly valid reason for an excusedabsence.  But it still doesn’t seem likea great track record for a superhero.

During lunch, Peter hides out in the band room with Ned towork on the Lego death- star-in-progress. Ned has a treasure trove of Halloween booty to share, somehow includingthe diamonds of watermelon sour patch kids and multiple full-size chocolatebars.  Peter adds his candy corn andmilky ways to the pile and chows down, ruefully wishing he’d made butteredtoast for breakfast.  Or at leastsomething a little less sugary.  It onlytakes a few pieces of candy to sear his tongue with sweetness and make his teethfeel grimy.  But Peter’s hungry, and withhis current rate of calorie burn, it’ll only take a few rounds of the block inhis Spiderman suit to burn it all off.

The bell is ringing to signal the end of the lunch period,and Peter’s phone is vibrating up a storm in his pocket.  Pretending he’s on his way to class, he ducksinto the bathroom to check the messages.

Mr. Stark: There’s athing.  Can you assist?

 Mr. Stark:  Oh, you’re at school.  Nevermind.

 Mr. Stark:  But really, can you assist?

 Mr. Stark:  Happy’s on a Starbucks run.  Please provide own transportation.

Peter hastens to compose a reply.

 Peter: Yeah! Ofcourse!  I don’t have any tests today.

He considers deleting the exclamation points.  Decides against it.  Oh well.

Peter: To the tower,right?  What do you need help with?

 Mr. Stark: Yes. Excusethe boxes.  We’re packing for the move.

 Mr. Stark:  How’s your knowledge of local gang hangouts?

 Peter: Not fantastic?

 Mr. Stark:  Hm. Ok.  Scans are showing up weirdweapons tech.  Figured if it’s HYDRA,I’ll handle it.  But if it’s justbullies, you can give it a try first.  Ialso need you to model.

 Peter:  Always happy to slam some bullies.  Model what?

 Mr. Stark:  Your suit. Duh.  I’m working on a new microarmor layer, and I need you to put it on and tell me if it hurts when I hityou.

 Peter:  Ok…

 Mr. Stark:  Don’t just stand there like a dumb kid onyour phone.  Get your ass down here.

 Mr. Stark: I’m notswearing at you.

 Peter wonders if he’s supposed to reply, but he just throwshis phone into his backpack and exits the bathroom.  He glances up and down the hall a few timesto make sure there aren’t any teachers watching, then he dashes for thedoor.  

Peter dumps his backpack in the alley and quickly pulls onhis Spiderman suit.  Since he doesn’thave any cash for a cab and his metro card’s down to a few cents, webbinghimself across the city seems like the best option.  He supposes he could park somewhere and waitfor Happy to finish up whatever he’s doing, but what fun is that?  Peter usually gets a kick out of swingingaround.  Plus, he doesn’t get theimpression Happy likes him that much.

Once he’s situated, Peter scales the brick wall and sprintsacross the building’s flat roof.  Heshoots a web onto the corner of the building diagonally across the street andjumps, letting his feet skim the roofs of a few taxis on his way over theintersection.  

With this quick method of transport, it’ll still take Petera good ten or fifteen minutes to get to the tower.  He’s less than halfway through the journeywhen his stomach starts sloshing. Honestly, it’s not that unexpected what with all the junk he just ateand fact that he was sick yesterday.  Butit’s annoying as anything.

Eight blocks from the tower, Peter’s head starts isaching.  Not in the nice, polite,excuse-me-I-think-I’m-starting-to-get-a-headache way, but more in theplease-stop-I’m-hella-dizzy way.  The waythat demands a change in activity or dire consequences.  

Peter jumps onto a rooftop and sidesteps a skylight,doubling over with his hands on his knees so he can catch his breath.  He’s fine. He tells himself he is five or six times and swallows a sweet, chocolatyburp, then leaps back into free fall before he can second guess himself.  Once he shoots a web and starts to swing,though, the disgusting flip of his stomach starts up again in the worstcombination of overindulgence and motion sickness ever.  Peter’s fucked and heknows it.  He imagines he feels worsethan Steve Rogers did in that infamous story of Cap and the cotton candy andthe Cyclone on Coney Island.

He’s swallowing hard against rising gunk in his throat whenhe swings onto the block dominated by the Avengers Tower and, as it has beenfor the past few weeks, about a thousand U-Haul trucks.  Peter doesn’t want to let his feet hit theground for fear that his body will take it as a cue to turn itself inside out,so he webs himself to the balcony on the 21st floor, the one wherehe knows Tony’s lab is located.  Thesliding glass door is open slightly, and Peter shoves through it.  He pulls his mask up over his nose and mouth,intent only on getting to the bathroom before the inevitable happens.

“Hey, where are you going?”

For once in his life, Peter ignores Mr. Stark’s question andkeeps hustling, though his pace is slowing significantly as the motion sendshis stomach into frantic convulsions. He’s sweating all over.  He can’tfeel his face.  He can’t feel his feet.

“Yo, kid.”  A handcomes down on his shoulder and forcibly spins him around.  “I’m talking to you, you know?”

“Ohshit—” Peter manages to choke out beforeeverything’s coming up, running through the fingers of the gloved hand he’spressed to his mouth a moment too late. He can’t suppress the next spastic retch, and a heavy splash ofminimally digested candy and pop tarts hits the floor, soiling his red bootsand Mr. Stark’s black Converse.

“What the fuck?”  Tony leapsbackward, then seems to think better of his actions and comes up behind Peterto place a tentative hand on his shoulder and keep him from collapsing on hisshaky knees as his stomach continues to evacuate.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter chokes out as soon as he cantake a breath.  “I didn’t mean—”  He cuts off with another gag.  “Sorry.”

“Um.  It’s ok,” Tonysays, sounding like he’s out of his depth, fishing for the right words.  “I’ll…call May to pick you up?”

“No, I…I can’t,” Peter breathes, scraping mucous and meltedchocolate off his tongue with his teeth. It seems rude to spit onto the floor, but there aren’t a lot of betteroptions.  

“Yeah, right, you’re supposed to be at school…” Tony remindshimself.  “Well, I have 23 guest rooms inthis place, so I guess it won’t be any trouble if you want to lie down for aminute.”  

Peter tries to say thank you, but the words turn into a wetburp he struggles to keep from turning into a heave.  “OhmygodI’msorry,” he exhales.

“You’re…gross,” Tony says. “But, come on.”  He uses the handon Peter’s shoulder to steer him down the hall. “Good thing I haven’t packed the puke-cleaning robots yet.”

[eureka-its-zico]

Half of You

Requested by: @katythekitty​ How about 9 and Jungkook? Part of the Valentine’s Day prompt series.

Genre: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 1895

When Jungkook told you he’d prepared something super romantic for the two of you, you had to be honest, you didn’t expect much. He’d swung the door open before you’d even been able to knock. Your fist was left hovering in the air, and you wondered if you looked as surprised as you felt.

“Have you been waiting there the whole time?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

He reached out and grabbed your hand to pull you inside with his foot kicking the front door shut behind you. Jungkook wasted no time to continue dragging you towards what you figured was the living room. Your legs struggling to keep up with his until he abruptly stopped causing you to run into his back.

“Ta-daaaa!”

Jungkook made a flourish with his hand to show off what he’d done with the living room. He’d set it up to look like a tent: his black bed sheets were draped over a pole in the center. The glow from underneath the sheet showing just enough that you were able to notice he’d taken the time to twirl fairy lights around the pole. Jungkook had two other poles on either side to hold it open.

Splayed in the front was take out from your favorite restaurant and a stack of snacks and candy off to one side. He fanned out a few of your favorite films for you to choose from, and dimmed the lights to where the only glow in the room either came from the tv or the inside of the tent.

It was perfect.

Jungkook knew it wasn't what you’d initially wanted. The both of you’d planned a day out of town camping under the stars and spending some time alone together. It was the one thing Jungkook and you agreed on, since he would be leaving soon to go on tour. Every moment today felt like it mattered more than it usually did, and you weren't entirely sure if it was due to anxiety or the uncertainty of the future.

He knew you were crushed when his request was denied. Jungkook saw through the brave face you tried to keep when he told you. He saw it written clearly in the trembling smile you used to attempt  to prove it was alright. It's what spurred Jungkook to make you a promise that he would fix it; that he’d give you something better than the seclusion of the countryside. Of course, he delivered.

You felt silly when tears pricked the back of your eyes. This was a thousand times better than anything you’d planned together. Every detail of the room spoke volumes of what you meant for him.

Jungkook came up behind you, releasing his hold on your hand, and wrapped his arms across your chest. His chin rested on your shoulder as your hands came up to lock onto his forearms. Jungkook gave a quick peck to the side of your head before he whispered, “A promise is a promise.”

“Jungkook, it's wonderful. Thank you.”

He released his hold on you enough that you were able to turn around and face him. His hands dropped down to your waist to pull you closer, making you stand on your tiptoes to lock your arms around his neck. Jungkook was still smiling when you leaned up the rest of the way to kiss him. His lips staying curled up until you deepened the kiss; one hand moving up the back of his neck until it was in his hair.

Jungkook’s hands convulsed into the fabric of your coat. You could feel one hand creeping lower down your waist until it was on your ass; squeezing tightly making a moan breathe against his lips. Reluctantly, you pulled apart from each other knowing good and well if you didn't, you’d be spending the entire night locked inside his room. You didn't want to waste such a beautiful surprise.

“I’m hungry.”

The both of you knew that was your weak excuse for pulling away from him. By the stupid smirk on Jungkook’s face he knew if he pushed, you’d gladly let him throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the bedroom. Usually, that’s what happened, but tonight Jungkook was full of surprises.

“Well, lucky for you, you have this amazingly handsome boyfriend who's awesome and picked you up food from your favorite place.”

“Ya, Jungkook, I think your head is already big enough. You don't need to stroke your own ego.”

He shot a bright smile over his shoulder. It was already a warning that you were headed for trouble, and the trouble was in the form of Jungkook comfortably moving between your thighs.

“You're right. I have a girlfriend who strokes it just fine.”

A scoff of laughter escaped you as you swatted his shoulder.

“Aish, this pabo!”

Jungkook let go of your hand and let you move down inside the tent. While you took off your jacket he went over and pulled out a movie. You weren't so interested in what it was as you were more worried about the food. You felt like you could've inhaled all of it, but figured you’d be a good girlfriend and save at least some of it for him.

He’d made his way inside the tent as you were distributing the rice into the bowls. You handed Jungkook his bowl; his thank you came in the form of a not-so-quick kiss that left the food forgotten. A part of you felt like you should've reminded him that it was getting cold. That the movie was playing and you were both missing it, but you found it hard to care when his weight kept your back pinned against pillows, and his hand was moving up your shirt.

You were able to draw out a sound from him when your hands tightened in the strands of his hair, and your hips rolled against him. A delicious sound that your lips silenced and left your hands scrambling to remove his shirt. One minute your hormones were controlling your would-be romantic moment, and the next you were ready to bolt from the room.

The fairy lights and tv turned off and the room became shrouded in darkness. Your entire body froze against him while your hands kept a tight grip of his shoulders. You weren't scared of most things, but the dark was just one of those childhood fears you never seemed able to overcome. Jungkook found out about this the first night you’d snuck over to the dorm. He wasn't allowed to turn his tv off until he bought a nightlight.

“You okay?”

It felt like he’d screamed the question in your ear. In reality it’d barely carried over a whisper, and his lips were already close to your neck. You couldn't reply right away: your head shaking only for you to realize Jungkook couldn't actually see the motion.

“I have to get up to find out what happened.”

“Are you crazy?!” You hissed. Your fingers dug deeper into his shoulders like it was enough to keep him grounded there. “We already know what happened. It's a ghost and it's gonna kill us.”

He laughed lightly and you could feel him start to pull up to stand up. When he moved he pulled you with him. A reluctant participant in moving period since you still hadn't figured out if it was more comforting to keep your eyes closed or open to the darkness.

“If it’ll make you feel better you can wait here and I'll see if I can find a flashlight or something.”

“You're gonna leave me here to die.”

“Y/N, you're not gonna die I'm going to be right back.”

Jungkook must have thought he’d known your body well enough to be able to lean down and give your forehead a peck. What actually ended up happening was his forehead landed on your nose.

“Jesus!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just go find a light, please.”

“Okay I'm going. I’ll be right back.”

You couldn't see him leave you, but you felt it. One minute the heat of his body was there and then it wasn't. Replaced by the cold of the room that made your arms wrap around you for warmth, and your nose still throbbing from earlier. A few seconds in and you heard him collide with a wall. His shout of, “Fuck, that hurt!” Had you struggling to stifle a laugh.

“You alright?” You yelled out.

“I’m fine I just found a wall - OUCH!”

Another thud sounded and this time you did laugh. When you finished you realized you couldn't hear anything else. No more padding of his feet on the floor or him running into anything. It’d gone absolutely quiet, and you hated every minute of it. So to keep your mind from going to being another murder victim of an angry ghost, you started counting by Mississippi’s. You got to fifty-three when you felt something grab you and you lost it.

Your hands flailed around you as you screamed. You would’ve ran if you could feel your legs. If you weren't dead already, that is. A hand shot out to cover your mouth and an arm wrapped around your waist to pull you too a familiar figure that held a familiar scent.

“Y/N! It's just me. You gotta be quiet or the neighbors are going to think I'm murdering you over here.”

You pulled his hand away from your mouth and smacked his arm a few times.

“Ow! -”

“You couldn't have been like, ‘Hey, it's me your boyfriend Jungkook’ before you’d done that?!”

You felt his shoulders shrug and without having to see him knew he was smiling.

“I could've, but this was a lot funnier.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me. Plus, I have something that’ll make you happy.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

His hand moved down to take yours. When he started pulling you to follow behind him your other hand grabbed at his wrist for reassurance. Your feet shuffled behind him as his took cautious steps in front of him. The sound of his hand moving up and down walls and patting against them made you feel like he either knew where he was going or was lost.

After what felt like a lifetime your eyes finally caught sight of light, and it immediately hit you where Jungkook was taking you. You’d forgotten that Jimin and Taehyung’s room had one of the largest windows in the apartment. It was about five feet long and seven feet wide and let the natural light from the moon cascade into the room. It felt like you could breathe a little easier knowing there was some kind of light in the house.

“There must have been a power outage. The whole block is without power.”

Jungkook moved with you the rest of the way, letting your hands go so he could find a comfortable spot to sit on the windowsill. When he found it he opened his arms up for you to join him; your back lying against his chest as he tucked you comfortably against him. The both of you staring up at the night sky.

“Love - love the stars. Love - love the moon.”

Jungkook’s voice was breathy. His nose nuzzled in your hair as he sang the next line, and you  couldn’t have felt more at home.

[bgtdw]

Safe Word

Dave was fifteen minutes late when he finally arrived at work, and that didn’t include the thirty minutes he was supposed to arrive early from being behind the previous evening.

He didn’t think of himself as a lazy person or a slacker, but he had a difficult time maintaining a schedule and tended to get distracted by whatever was in front of him.  This had been a problem for him from the time he was young resulting in a steady stream of scoldings and groundings from his parents and endless reprimands from school officials for tardy attendance and incomplete homework assignments.

It would have been simple enough to try and sneak past his manager Mitch’s office on his way to his locker, but Dave decided against it and knocked on the door frame.

“Hey man, I’m really sorry I’m late again.”  Dave said.  “Traffic was a total nightmare.”

Mitch ran a hand through his hair sweeping it back off his forehead and looked up at Dave.

“It’s alright, but let’s try not to make a habit of it, okay?”

“Definitely not...thanks Mitch.”

“No problem.”

There were few sweeter words in the English language to Dave than, ‘No problem’.

He had a knack for bringing out this kind of spontaneous compassion in people.  Part of it probably had to do with his own laidback nature, which seemed to permeate the personalities of those around him, but sometimes he swore there was almost something mystical or magical about it.

This certainly hadn’t been true when he was a kid. In addition to constantly getting in trouble with the adults in his life, he had also received his fair share of ass kickings from his peers for saying or doing the wrong thing or for simply being small enough to knock around without fear of physical repercussions.

The first time Dave noticed the effect he had on people was during his junior year of high school.  He had grown his hair out and started sporting Grateful Dead and Pink Floyd t-shirts as part of his regular attire after delving headlong into pot the previous summer. He’d only tried weed a couple of times before then, but was now getting stoned on a fairly regular basis.  Being altered, as he liked to think of it, helped him get out of his head and made it easier to deal with his teachers and his mom, who’d become borderline unbearable ever since Dave’s dad had split a year back.  The mellow he felt in his altered state seemed to affect not only himself but those around him, like they were somehow all sharing the same buzz.  Dave initially chalked up the group attitude adjustment to him being less of an all-out spaz, but even back then he suspected this wasn’t the whole truth.

After graduating college he’d had to cut way back since the temp agency he worked for performed regular drug testing.  He missed being high, but that sense of wellbeing he’d felt seemed to remain intact even when he wasn’t indulging.  Dave wasn’t sure if his personality had slowly changed over time to coincide with the low-key demeanor the drugs had helped facilitate, but whatever it was, adults, children, even animals seemed to mellow in his presence.

Dave waved to Mitch as he exited the store and then started cataloging the stack of new releases to get them ready for the floor.  Out of the thirty or so albums he flipped through, he’d only recognized a few of the artists and it made him feel suddenly old and out-of-touch.  After finishing with the new merchandise displays he set about tiding up the racks from the day shift.  It drove him nuts the way people just left the records and CDs scattered about as if taking ten seconds to put them back in their proper place was some major inconvenience.  He was scanning over the Q through S rack of the Classical section when he came across Howard Jones’s Dream Into Action.

“Fucking assholes.” Dave said and grabbed the CD, which revealed a collection by Stravinsky as next in the row.

Track one off that album, “Things Can Only Get Better”, had been a big hit for Jones in ‘85 and Dave remembered hearing it on the radio and liking it until someone informed him that it wasn’t the new Thompson Twins single.  Looking back now he wasn’t sure what was more embarrassing, his misunderstanding over the song’s author, or the fact that he didn’t think the song was cool enough to listen to after he’d learned the truth about it.

“Excuse me, do you have the new Depeche Mode album?”

Dave looked up from the rack he was sorting through to find a twenty-something woman with short, black hair and a tiny gold hoop nose-ring only a few inches from his face.

“Uh...yeah...we’ve got that in.”  Dave said in a way that sounded more like he was asking himself a question rather than making a statement.

“Can you show me where it is?”

“Oh, sure, of course, right this way.”  Dave said and started walking toward one of the end-cap displays on the other side of the store.  

“Is the new album any good, I haven’t heard it yet?”  Dave said as he led the woman down one of the maroon-carpeted aisles.

“Yeah, I think it’s great. That’s why I’m getting it.”

“That makes sense.” Dave said, wishing he could stop coming across like he’d been recently lobotomized.  

“It’s right over there.” Dave said, gesturing to the display. “Sorry if I acted like a dope before. I didn’t sleep well and my head’s still a bit fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy, yeah....” the woman said and swayed a little on her feet.

“Are you all right? Dave said.

“...I’m fine...just a little...ya know...fuzzy....”  

Dave barely managed to stop the woman from cracking her head as she collapsed beside him, toppling the cardboard display on her way down and sending the square plastic jewel cases skittering across the floor.  He could see that she was still breathing and didn’t appear to be undergoing any kind of seizure or convulsion.  It didn’t really seem like she’d passed out, more that she’d spontaneously fallen asleep and Dave wondered whether she was a narcoleptic.  He took off the red cotton vest with Music Metropolis stitched on the left side and balled it up under her head.  

The store was empty aside from the two of them, but Dave kept looking back over his shoulder at the woman as he hurried over to the info desk to call an ambulance.  While he waited for the paramedics he sat down next to the woman and tried talking to her, but the only response she made was to flip over on to her other side and scrunch up her legs like a cat taking a nap in a pool of afternoon sun.

After what felt like an eternity Dave finally saw flashing lights coming from the parking lot and he headed over to the front of the store.

“She’s over there.” Dave said, holding open the door and pointing to the spot where the woman lay still surrounded by CD cases, which reflected the lights back up making it seem like she was in a ring of tiny moons.

One of the EMTs went to her while the other turned to Dave.  “Can you tell us what happened?”

“It’s like I told the emergency operator.  I was showing her where an album was and we were talking and she was fine, then all of the sudden she just fell over.”

“Did she say or do anything unusual right before it happened?”

“Not really; I mean she said she felt fuzzy, which is what I had said I felt like, and then she hit the deck.”

“Did it look like she might’ve been drinking or on drugs?”

“I don’t think so. When she came in she seemed sober as a nun.  I’m the one who acted like a stumbling drunk.  I’ve got chronic insomnia and I only slept a few hours; been walking around this place like a zombie.”

“Zombie….”

“Yeah, you know, like Night of the Living Dead.”

“Right, right, Night of the Living Dead with all those folks coming up out of their graves and going around chasing people and—”

This time Dave wasn’t fast enough.  

The medic listed to the side and was on the ground before Dave had a chance to move.

“Mike?” the other EMT said looking up from the woman and over at Dave. “What the hell did you do to him?!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Dave protested.

“Don’t you fucking move. I’m calling the cops.”

Dave stood there like a deer in headlights for a moment and then bolted out the front door.  He heard the medic yelling after him, but he didn’t look back or stop running until he was blocks away with his legs trembling from the exertion and his lungs burning as he gulped in air.

He leaned against the chain link fence that bordered the south end of a park near his house trying to remember if he’d told the 911 operator his name, though even if he hadn’t they still knew where he worked.  Dave tried to think, to formulate some rational explanation for what had happened, but his mind wouldn’t stop flashing images of prison bars and electric chairs at him and he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up.

All he wanted was to go home and lie in his bed so he could finally wake up from this horrible nightmare.

Dave didn’t know what he would say to the police when they finally came for him.

He wasn’t sure what was safe to say anymore….

[bluewhale52]

Little Black Book: The One You Trust (M)

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these seven hold a special place in your heart.  Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men, especially with Min Yoongi, the one you trust.

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, friends with benefits

WC: 5.1k

Warning: Yoongi thought OC was a prostitute, oral sex in public restroom, Yoongi oral king (wbk), oral m & f giving and receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (they should’ve known better, please be safe everyone), making of a sex tape

A/N: Completely unedited, as I wrote it between free times I could get, so my deepest apologies for any mistakes made. Hope you enjoy reading it! 💜

I am also reposting this because I changed my tumblr setting, so hopefully this link will work better overall.

Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

You met Yoongi at an upscale bar. It wasn’t the kind of bar you’d willingly go on your own, but it was the bar your boss chose to impress your clients with expensive wine and cigars. Business talk soon turned into something more lewd, and you soon excused yourself from the party.

You chose to sit on the bar counter, purposely choosing the far end where it was much less crowded. You scrolled mindlessly on your phone, nursing your gin and tonic, while waiting for your group to get drunker and drunker, and for when it became your responsibility to ship them home one by one  in taxis.

Yoongi approached you like a cat. Slow, quiet, gaze intense on you. You had caught him out of the corner of your eye, and you instantly liked what you saw. Lithe body clad in all black, jet black hair, feline eyes, and lips pressed into a tight line. He had a mysterious and intimidating aura about him.

He sat himself next to you, then ordered a whiskey. Seeing your half empty glass, he offered to buy you another.

“No thanks,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

Yoongi glanced at your party. “Your group?”

You nodded. “Yup, gotta make sure they all return home safely later.”

“Ah,” Yoongi let out a dry chuckle. “I see.”

“That was a weird laugh.” You told him, narrowing your eyes.

He looked at you, his sharp features looked considerably softer. “Don’t be mad.”

“It never ends well when you start with that.” You warned him.

“You see,” Yoongi brought your gaze to a group of men and women seated not far from where your party was. “I thought you were one of them.”

One of them. The ‘them’ he referred  to  was a group of scantily clad women, throwing themselves onto the men in suits. It didn’t take a genius to know who those women were.

“Seriously? You thought this,” you pointed up and down your work suit, “equals to that?”

Yoongi looked you in the eye and knew you were teasing him. And you really were. You were intrigued by him. And you were hoping Yoongi could be a fun distraction.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” he apologized, “some men like skimpy dresses, I however, like suits. Obviously I have better taste than they are.” He smirked at the group.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your legs. You smiled inwardly when you caught his eyes dropping down to your skirt, slightly hiked up from your new sitting position. “I still feel very insulted.”

Yoongi rubbed his chin. “Let me make it up to you.” He leaned forward, and the proximity of his face to yours made your heart beat faster. He was a good looking guy, but with the cockiness in his words, his sexiness level was off the charts.

“Let me,” his voice dropped several octaves, sending a rush of warmth to your core, “eat you out. I’ll give you the best oral of your life.”

You felt your body was instantly lit on fire. Keeping your voice steady, you asked him, “What if I’m not satisfied?”

“I’ll give you my number. And you can call me whenever you need to evaluate my tongue technology skills.”

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t believe the balls on this guy.

“I can’t leave them.” You tipped your head at your group.

“I know for a fact the restroom here is clean.”

Your eyes widened. “How often do you do this here?”

Yoongi shrugged. “My first time tonight. I know the rest room is clean because I used it not ten minutes ago. So?” He hopped off his stool, and offered you his hand.

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. Your head still couldn’t believe what was happening, but your core was leaking arousal and you knew which one was making the final decision.

You placed your hand in his, and he smirked. It annoyed you how smug he was, but the way the corner of his lip lifted, it was so sexy. You were done for.

Yoongi led you to one of the  restrooms, he told you the restrooms in the bar were all private so there was no need to worry someone would walk in on you both.

“You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

Yoongi locked the door. He directed you to lean against the wall. Your hand grabbed the sink next to you for anchor. The way he looked at you was so predatorial. His eyes were sharp and pierced  through yours. The way he licked his lips was like a starved man finally being served his favorite meal.

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d taste since I saw you sitting on that bar all alone.” He looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes. You swallowed. Your throat was suddenly dry. All the liquid in your body was pooling in your panties, you were sure of it.

Yoongi leaned closer to you, pressing your body against the wall. His hands skimmed the hem of your pencil skirt, and looking into your eyes, he slowly inched the material up. His fingers were grazing against your pantyhose, burning your skin through it.

When your skirt was finally bunched up around your waist, you bit your lip to still a whimper, and Yoongi chuckled. His face came even closer to yours, you prepare yourself for the feel of his lips yours.

But he ducked sideways, his mouth aimed at your ear instead. “My name is Yoongi, in case you need to scream it out when you cum on my tongue.”

Your chest heaved and you let out a small moan. His hands had found the waistband of your panties and your pantyhose, but instead of pulling them down- which you were hoping he would, SOON- because you just couldn’t take it anymore- he rubbed against the skin underneath, making you squirm.

He gave you that smug smirk again. And licking his lips, he leaned down to kiss you. Only to be met by your finger. He looked at you quizzically.

“No kissing,” you chided. “You haven’t earned that yet, you smug boy.”

His eyes twinkled at your challenge. “Do I get your name, at least? I’ll spell it with my tongue.” He yanked your panties and pantyhose down. Your knees immediately went jelly, and he chuckled again at your state.

“_______.” You breathed out. He kneeled before you, then helped  you rid of your underclothes to bare yourself to him.

Yoongi hooked your leg over his shoulder. He parted your folds then licked his lips. He could see your sex throbbing, so desperate for a touch.

Keeping his eyes on you, he flicked his tongue over your clit. You gasped loudly. Liking your reaction, he flicked your nub again, but this time putting more pressure on it. He started spelling your name on your clit, as he had promised to do, the pressure from his tongue sending your body into a fiery mess and your arousal dripping into his waiting mouth.

“Did I spell it right?” Yoongi pulled back.

“Fuck yeah.” You rested your head on the wall. Your body felt heavy, and you hadn’t even cummed yet.

“Ready to scream my name, babe?”

You looked down to him. His milky white complexion almost made him look angelic, such an irony to the sinful act he was doing to you. You buried your fingers in his hair and tugged softly.

“Less talking and more doing, hmm?” You directed his head to your dripping core.

You felt the vibration from his chuckle against your dewy lips, and you instantly moaned. With his tongue flat against your sex, he started lapping at you. He was encouraged by your moan and from your grip on his hair.

He found that you liked  having his tongue poking into your hole and sliding up and down your slit. He could tell from your moans how you liked his lips wrapped around your clit  and how he slurped up your juice obscenely. He wanted to finger you, to feel your walls around his digits. But he wanted to see how far his tongue could take you. And soon he got an answer.

Your thighs started shaking, and your moans were getting louder. He tongued your entrance, swirling his organ in and around your hole, eagerly exploring it. He groaned when you ground yourself down against his mouth.

“Close, so close,” you panted, “make me cum, please.”

Yoongi gripped your thighs tighter, pressing his face further in, diving deeper into you. His tongue fucked into your cunt mercilessly, while his nose rubbed against your clit. You felt him pushing you harder and up against the wall, as if anchoring you before your free fall into ecstasy.

And the orgasm came in a mad rush, a white hot explosion that burnt your entire body as you convulsed and shook above Yoongi. He continued to tongue you, groaning and moaning at the drizzle of your nectar oozing out, only slowing down once he felt your body going lax. He massaged your thighs, kissing the skin at the junction of your limbs and your pussy tenderly, until you pushed his head away.

Yoongi looked up to you and grinned. You looked so fucked out, and only from this tongue alone.

“You didn’t scream my name, babe.” Yoongi slowly stood up, his face ghosting over yours. “I’m sad.”

“You’ve got to do it again then.” You could smell yourself on him, a mix of your sex with the alcohol he had had before. “Kiss me, Yoongi.”

He crushed his lips into yours, immediately his wicked tongue invaded your mouth. You sucked on it greedily, and smiled when he groaned. He pulled away, his eyes heavy with lust. He moved your body towards the sink, bending you over it, then he spread your legs wide. You gripped onto the porcelain, and turned your head sideways to be met by your own reflection in the mirror.

Yoongi was above you, pushing your hair away from your neck. He kissed and licked it, sending shivers down your spine. Catching your reflection, he nibbled on your earlobe before pointing his tongue into your ear canal. Satisfied at the way your face crunched and the way you moaned underneath him, he stood up and massaged your ass cheeks.

“You look so sinful, _______ .” His fingers were kneading your flesh hard. “Still dripping too, you really like my tongue that much?”

“Yes.” You sobbed your answer. Your legs were shaking again, from the position they were in but also from the anticipation. You felt Yoongi breathing near your cunt, and automatically bucked your hips, but he held you down, rendering you immobile under his grips.

Yoongi gave you a long fat lick, from the clit all the way to the spot between your pussy and your asshole. “Oh Yoongi, that feels good.”

Taking your cue, he repeated the motion; sometimes spending more time teasing your clit, sometimes sucking on your hole, drinking up your juices, sometimes he went a bit higher, testing your reaction when he licked around your puckered hole. Whatever he did, he sent you deeper and deeper into lustful pleasure.

You felt his tongue stabbing into your pussy again, and his nose deliciously close to your other hole. Your moans were encouraging him, and he moved your ass back and forth, making you rut on his mouth. Without taking his mouth off you, Yoongie shuffled up higher until his tongue reached your asshole. With your arousal thick on his tongue, he circled around the hole and gave it little kitten licks. He growled when you wailed at how good it felt, but still, you were not screaming his name yet. So he continued eating your ass, until you became a whimpering mess, He quickly moved back to your pussy, sucking on it harshly and loudly. The slurping sounds his mouth was making were so loud in the restroom, with only your moans drowning them.

“Yoongi, ah… don’t stop..” you begged.

Yoongi went to overdrive. Hearing you moaned out his name spurred him on. He latched onto your clit now, flicking and sucking it, picking up his pace as your breathing got more laboured.

“Yoon… Yoongi..” you chanted his name like a prayer, and you were getting so close to your second orgasm. Yoongi sensed it too, and he continued to work on your clit, determined he would not stop until you cried with pleasure, with his name on your mouth.

With Yoongi’s tongue on your clit, you reached your second orgasm. “Yoongi!” you screamed as heat erupted from your core to the rest of your body. It was more intense than the first one, and you grabbed onto the sink for dear life. Your body was heaving, your thighs closed tightly around Yoongi’s head, and still, his tongue did not let up. You started to drone out, Yoongi’s name still repeatedly leaving your lips.

Yoongi stood up, then pulled you up from the sink, to hug you from behind. You were still recovering from your orgasm, and he wrapped your shaking body with his arms. His lips were all over your neck, kissing you softly as you returned back to earth.

When he felt your breathing had steadied, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You scoffed weakly. “You’re all sweet now you’ve heard me scream your name?”

Yoongi smiled against your hair. “Come home with me.”

You stiffened and pushed yourself out from Yoongi’s arms. Grabbing your pantyhose and your underwear, you asked Yoongi to turn around as you put them back on. Yoongi stayed silent, still waiting for your answer.

Smoothing down your skirt, you moved to the mirror by the sink to ensure you still looked presentable, and not like someone who had just had two orgasms in a public restroom. Yoongi stared at you through the mirror. Do you want to go home with him? God yes, you thought, if he could make you feel that good with his tongue alone, you definitely wanted to find out what the rest of him could do. But, as much as you wanted a warm body next to you, you wanted to make him suffer a bit.

“Give me your number.” You fished your phone out of your purse. Yoongi recited his number.

“I’ll get in touch, okay? And thanks for the two mind blowing orgasms.”

Yoongi laughed, nodded then waved you off. You felt a little bad, so you gave him a long lingering kiss before you exited the restroom.

~~~

Yoongi didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out. Three days after your encounter, you found yourself clocking yet another overtime, and feeling frustrated as hell. You sent him a text.

== [22:15] Hey, it’s _______ . From the bar. What are you doing?

== Yoongi-Bar [22:16] Depends on what you’re doing

== Yoongi- Bar (22:16] Didn’t think you’d contact me tbh

== [22:17] Aw, sorry to keep you waiting. Was wondering if your tongue is up for some workout?

You felt rather nervous seeing three blue dots appearing and disappearing. Was that too forward? It couldn’t be, from the way he approached you that night, this had got to be up his alley.

== Yoongi-Bar [22:19] I’m still at work. But you’re welcome to come (lol). Here’s my address. Text me when you;ve arrived. I’ll come down to get you.

In less than half an hour, you arrived at his office, which turned out to be a music studio. Ten minutes after that, you were on his desk, spread-eagle, with his head between your legs. Less than five minutes after your orgasm, you returned the favor, giving him what he claimed to be the best blowjob of his life. Shortly after midnight, the two of you were eating over-seasoned ramen at a nearby pochajang.

~~~

Your arrangement with Yoongi was a comfortable one. There was definitely lust at first sight between the two of you, but the chemistry started and ended there. You were both too career-minded to even consider a relationship, and so you settled being each other’s booty calls. Funnily enough, a friendship was formed too. You both would vent about your bosses and clients while getting dressed after your mind-blowing fuck sessions, and you sent each other encouraging messages too during stressful times. And most times, those messages included photos of body parts that would send your panties wet or give him uncomfortable hard-ons.

Four months after your first encounter, Yoongi told you he was going on a world tour with his artists. He would be away for six months, jumping from timezone to timezone, so it would be difficult to arrange a time for a regular online hook-ups.

“Yoongi, I’m pretty sure you can find someone during your tour stops.”

“I don’t want random women though. I’m comfortable with you. And safe.” He nearly whined.

“I can draft up an NDA if you’re worried about them going to some tabloids or something.”

He leaned back in his chair. “No. I don’t want that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, what do you want, then?”

“Let’s make a sex tape.”

You burst out laughing at Yoongi’s suggestion, but you immediately stopped when you saw the look on his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nodded thoughtfully, “watching it would help me jerk off and therefore it would be relaxing, and we wouldn’t have to constantly figure out the time difference…. “

“Well what’s in it for me?” You cut off his lame reasonings.

“The satisfaction that the country’s most successful music producer is jacking off to you.”

“Most successful, huh?”

“Babe, I’ll be at the top before you know it.” You sometimes forgot what a smug bastard he was.

You thought about it. You were not going to lie that the idea of making a sex tape with Yoongi was making you extremely excited. And the thought of him touching himself while watching himself and you, well it was fucking hot. And most importantly, you trusted him, you really did. If you were ever to document your sexual acts, Yoongi was the best person to do it with in your books.

“Our faces cannot be visible.” You set out your terms. “And we’d have to do it where no one would trace it back to your place or mine.”

Yoongi nodded.

“And you’d have to keep it somewhere safe. Not in some cloud or wherever that can be hacked.”

Yoongi tapped his hard-drive. “It’d stay with my unpublished songs.” The safest place indeed, he guarded those works with his life.

“OK, when should we do it?”

~~~

You decided to film your sex tape a week before Yoongi left. Yoongi was setting up the camera in the hotel room you had booked. Once done, he rehearsed the positions you both would be doing to ensure none of your faces would be visible.

“Fuck Yoongi, you’re really setting the mood right now! Can we just start? It’s been half an hour!” You threw yourself on the bed.

Yoongi muttered. “Fine, fine, we’ll edit it or something later. Come on babe, lie there, in the middle.”

You positioned yourself in the space where Yoongi had pointed. You were already naked, and you watched Yoongi undress. “Remember, don’t scream my name no matter how much you want to.” He warned.

“Min Yoongi, just fucking start.”

Yoongi chuckled as he pressed the record button. Then with his back to the camera, he climbed onto the bed. Spreading your legs, he made himself comfortable between them. Your hands immediately went to his hair; he loved having his hair tugged and pulled when he went down on you.

He knew what you loved too. He knew you loved it when he spread your lips apart, exposing your sex  to him. When he licked up and down your slit like he was savoring a melting ice cream cone. When he inserted a finger to tease your hole after he got you all soaked and dripping. When he inserted a second finger as he wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked on it. When he moved his body up to lie on top of yours, to kiss you and give you a taste of yourself while his fingers were pumping you.

And when he pushed in a third finger, you moaned into his mouth, which sent him grinding his hips against yours. His free hand grabbed your breast, massaging it before his fingers pinched and tugged your nipple. He broke the kiss, and he rose up to look at you.

“So sexy babe.” He whispered to you. You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly and enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. Yoongi made his way back down, kissing and sucking both your nipples, before his head was between your legs again.

His fingers were covered in your slick; you had gotten so wet and he could feel your walls pulsating around his fingers. His mouth went back to your clit as he curled his fingers in you. You arched your back, biting your lip for you nearly moaned out his name. Yoongi felt the pressure building in you, so he licked and sucked your clit harder while his fingers were stretching your cunt.

Your grip in Yoongi’s hair was getting tighter as you were getting closer to your release. He recognised the signal, familiar with your body by now, and he sped up his movements. He groaned into your pussy, encouraging you to let go and fall into your climax.

You came, with your legs shaking and sandwiching Yoongi’s head, and your back arched, your stiff nipples pointing to the ceiling. Yoongi let go of your clit, but he kept his fingers moving in and out of you at a slower pace. Kissing your way up, he nuzzled your neck, waiting for you to come down from your high. You blinked a few times and swallowed to wet your dry throat.

“Want me to suck you?” You asked softly. Yoongi shook his head.  He pulled his fingers out and rubbed your arousal on his cock, lubricating it.

“I wanna fuck you now.” He got on his knees and grabbed your legs to push them back towards your chest.

This was his favorite position; it gave him a clear view of his cock sliding into your pussy and of your boobs bouncing as he pounded into you. You grabbed the back of your knees, opening yourself to him, and he guided his hard cock to enter your cunt.

You gasped softly as you felt the head breached your entrance. Despite his fingers having stretched you, your pussy still fought against the intrusion. Yoongi watched your face as he continued to push himself in. Your face contorted as he bottomed out in you, and he grinded on you to push himself deeper.

You moaned loudly at the pressure on your lower abdomen. It felt too full, but you whined when Yoongi pulled back. It was too empty, but not for long, as he slammed his cock back into you. He started to piston hard and fast, battering your pussy.

You pulled your knees back further until they were next to your bouncing tits. Yoongi groaned at the new angle and you sobbed over how your cunt was being impaled over and over.

Yoongi leaned further down, resting his forehead on yours, and your pants and moans were mixed together. His cock was jackhammering at a maddening pace, and his balls were slapping against your ass. The sounds of skin slapping against skin were deafening, along with the wanton slick noises of his cock plunging into your pussy like an erotic juicer.

“I want to suck you.” You declared between pants. “I want your cum in my mouth, babe.”

Yoongi growled and rammed his cock in, keeping it fully sheathed in you. You then wrapped your arms around each other, and keeping your heads down, he flipped you over so that you were on top. You pulled yourself off Yoongi’s cock, and you both whined at the action.

You left trails of kisses down Yoongi’s body, from his mouth, to his chin, his neck, chest, abdomen till you met his cock, still glossy and covered in your arousal. You positioned your body so that your ass was sticking up and your legs slightly spread to give a peak of your swollen pussy, hoping it would be smack centre in the frame of the video.

You licked the head of Yoongi’s cock like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his precum mixed with your own juices. You stuck your tongue out to lap around the head while your hands cradled his balls. Then you licked up and down his shaft, replacing the liquid from your pussy with your own saliva.

“Oh fuck, don’t tease, babe.”

Humming, you wrapped your lips tightly around the head of his cock, and then slowly moved down to take him in. You felt his hips buck, and you immediately relaxed your throat to take as much of him as you could. When your nose bumped against the thin trail of hair on his skin, you flattened your tongue on his shaft and you started to bob your head up and down.

You glanced up to see Yoongi’s chest falling  and rising sharply. You tightened your lips around him some more and you picked up your pace, hungry and greedy for his cum, but also being even more aroused by his moans and the thought of him watching this video you were taping later on when he was away.

So, keeping one hand on his balls, your other reaches down between your legs to rub your clit. Still feeling sensitive, you moaned at your own touch against his cock. You felt him jerk again, his cock twitched in your mouth. You rubbed your clit faster, knowing the vibrations from your moans were adding an extra sensation for Yoongi.

“Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Yoongi warned as he grabbed your head, pressing it down on him. You closed your eyes and took him in, you felt spurts of his cum spraying into your throat, and you rubbed and pressed on your clit relentlessly, driving yourself towards your own release.

Once Yoongi’s cock had  gone soft and your own heart beat returned to normal, you dragged yourself back up and laid yourself on top of Yoongi.

“Stay down,” he whispered, “I gotta turn off the camera.”

Yoongi stood up, still careful to ensure his face was not in the frame, and stopped the recording. He went back to bed with the camera.

“You wanna watch?”

You nodded. Yoongi pulled you up so you sat in front of him, your back to his chest. Your heart started beating fast again.

Yoongi pressed play, and you both giggled a bit in embarrassment when your naked bodies came into frame. Embarrassment soon turned into excitement, however,  and Yoongi swiftly put your legs over his, and held them open as his free hand zeroed in on your pussy.

“Wet again.” He commented as he ran his finger along your slit.

You felt a growing erection behind you. You reached back to stroke it. “Hard again.”

“What time is check out tomorrow?” He nibbled your ear.

“Ahh,” you moaned. “I requested for a late check out.” You squeezed his cock.

“Mmmh,” he groaned. “You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, babe.”

You sighed lustfully as you felt his finger going back into your pussy.

“Worth it.”

—-

Today

You stop the video right before Yoongi in the tape starts cumming. You haven’t watched this video in a while, and you realise that watching it doesn’t elicit any reactions now, unlike before.

You sigh wistfully. You miss Yoongi. You miss hanging out with him, as friends. He’s been back from the tour for a few months now, and he has indeed become one of- if not the most- sought after producer, just as he promised he would be.

You have stayed in touch when he was away. Mostly through texts, teasing each other with r-rates photos, and he also shared his feelings over the world tour and the wonders he experienced watching thousands of foreign fans singing along to his songs. You were proud of him.

Somehow he also remembered all your important court dates and the clients who were driving you nuts, and he made sure you got enough encouragement to push through. You were grateful for his support.

He called you a few times once he had returned, and as much as you want to see him, you have been putting him on the back burner as you navigate your relationship with your new boyfriend. You realise it is about time you break the news to Yoongi- he’s not just a mere fuck-buddy to you, he’s become your friend. He deserves to know.

You dial his number, and after a few rings, he answers.

“Hey _______ ,” he drawls, “what’s up.”

“Hey Yoon. How are you doing?”

“Busy, still in the studio.” You glance at your clock. Eleven pm. Nothing has changed. “Wanna come over?”

You smile into the phone. “Sorry Yoon, I don’t think I can come over anymore.”

“Oh.”

“I’m seeing someone, like seriously.” You try to explain.

“Well, that’s good. I’m happy for you.” He sounds sincere. “He must be someone special.”

“Thanks. He is.”

Silence falls between you. It isn’t awkward, and you can imagine him smiling softly at the other hand.

“Uh, I’d still like us to hang out though, as friends.” You offer.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear. “Great. Maybe I can introduce you to him too.”

He chortles. “Seriously? You think that’s a good idea?”

“Well you’re my friend!”

“A friend who filmed a sex tape with you.”

You purse your lips. “Well he doesn’t need to know about that. Do you still have it by the way?”

“Yeah, I don’t watch it as often as I thought I would though.” He laughs. “Tour and work sucks out all my energy.”

You laugh along with him. “What a shame.”

“I will delete it, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

You surprise yourself when you shake your head and reject his suggestion hastily. “No, no, you don’t have to.”

“______, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answer with conviction. “Consider it as a fuck buddy parting gift.”

Yoongi laughs again. “Kinda feel you trust me too much, babe.”

“Ah Yoongi-ah,” you giggle. “I’ve always trusted you, don’t you know that?”

Originally published 20012021