Say So | Knj & Ksj [m]

say so | knj & ksj [m]

! —  COMMISSION  — !

❥ — pairing: namjoon x reader x seokjin ❥ — genre: poly, 1950s au/rockabilly au, smut, childhood f2l, angst, fluff, musician!namjin, burlesque!mc ❥ — words: 24.5k+ ❥ — rating: 18+ ❥ — warnings: light angst, pining, smut !!!; oral (all kinds), anal, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, edging, light switch!joon, light switch!oc, harder dom!jin, double pentration, cockwarming, reverse cowgirl etc…. if I forgot sometihng I will add it later but for now this is it fellas. ❥ — notes: oh my god I am FINALLY ejecting this fic from my brain !!! part of the reason this took so long was, of course, the current circamstances across the world mixed in with a few personal factors, but also because I haven’t written a ‘historical’ fic before and I wanted to make sure I got it right ! of course, that somehow ended with me going way over word count so i am so sorry for that, but i truly hope you like it! I haven’t gone over it yet but i will do that later, i just wanted to post and get this fic out of my asshole

Returning to your hometown for a week is something you’ve managed to avoid for three years, but when you can finally put it off no longer you find upon arrival the very thing you were scared of encountering. When the two famous childhood friends you haven’t spoken to in years have returned at the same time as you, you can’t quite tell whether you’re going to be able to make it out in one piece or emerge with a heart more wounded than before.

Especially since it turns out the feelings you thought you were over never quite went away.

— masterlist |  posted; 17.08.2020

You didn’t really expect to find yourself back here so soon, but here you are— everything in your room is in exactly the same state as it was three years ago.

The covers on your bed, the magazine cuttings, faded posters and hand-painted canvases that mark the phases of your youth hung on your wall—even the light-toned floral wallpaper and the little knickknacks atop your dresser are the same. It makes something like nostalgia rise within you, a reminiscent haze filtering through your thoughts. It has been too long since you’ve been back here, and the guilt that always lingers in the back of your mind now pushes its way to the forefront. You feel bad, not having been back to your childhood home in so long, despite the reasons you had for moving away.

You haven’t been here all that long, but as soon as you finished talking with your parents downstairs your feet had carried you here, more out of habit that anything. Absentmindedly, you brush your hand over the oak of your dresser, curious when your fingertip comes back without a single speck of dust. Your mother must have come through often to clean. The realisation both warms your heart and compounds the guilt you feel, making you frown.  In an effort to distract yourself, you turn your gaze back to the rest of your old room, catching sight of a few photographs plastered above your study desk. You know what they contain, and still you can’t seem to help yourself as you draw closer and peer at them anew. They’re just as familiar to your eyes as you expected.

Of course, in this house you’d be lucky to find a photograph of you that didn’t also have these two in it. 

Your eyes skip over the older ones with yellowing glaze and curled corners to focus on the most recent-looking image, drinking in the two boys you’d spent the entirety of your childhood and teen years with. Easily your best friends, until… well, until three  years ago. A fond smile fights its way to your lips; you remember when this was taken. Your mother had lined the three of you up for a photo in the yard but at the very last second they’d pushed you into the pool. Both boys stand tall in the image, but you’d recognise the taller one with the goofy grin anywhere, even if his face wasn’t already plastered across newspapers and featuring on the television every other evening. Namjoon is just as boyish in the image as you recall, and next to him where they stand laughing over the pool is Seokjin, appearance every bit as neat and clean as you’ve glimpsed in recent years when he has featured in a magazine or program that is particularly popular with the youth. It was always a bit weird to you, a little hard to process, that the two boys you’ve known since the three of you were in diapers are now pretty much, well… celebrities. Something bubbles in your chest, the pressure of a sigh but the weight of something you’re not quite ready to name yet. Distantly, in the back of your mind, a tiny part of you whispers that it tastes a little like regret, and sounds a little like yearning.

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Wet

A NIGHT AT HOME | JIMIN VERSION

WORD COUNT: 3,104

warnings: graphic smut, shower sex, sub!jimin, dom!reader, slightly degrading, rough sex

masterlist | ask | song

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crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me 

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but….i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex) 

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn’t been up for very long, and you don’t even know he’s looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he’s starstruck. it’s why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you’re his wife.

“my,” he can’t even say the word. “my…”

“your wife,” namjoon repeats. “you know what a wife is, right? marriage?”

“yes,” jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. “i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells." 

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brain games;

member- namjoon

genre- fluff, au

words- 1,251

summary- im a mind reader and could you please stop thinking about what i look like naked becuase i really need this grade + mindreader!namjoon 

a/n- ahfsd;gjn this was so fun to write! namjoon needs some more scenarios all around, so i hope this one suffices!!

__

If you had to sum up your college experience in one word thus far, you’d without a doubt use boring. It’s not that you hated your major- in fact, you loved what you were studying. It was just the fact that the professors were so terrible and made every single day drag on at the speed of a snail. And not only that, but you just so happen to be a reserved person overall, which unfortunately, doesn’t make you a catch to all the egotistical boys- and girls- here on campus. Your free days are spent laying in your room watching cheesy comedies and shoving your face with an assortment of junk food, instead of being normal and hanging out with human beings. So therefore, college is boring. 

Though, there is one person who makes things a bit more…interesting. In your Intermediate Psychology class, there is the hottest boy you have ever seen. He’s tall, with a smile that makes you want to kiss his dimpled cheeks. His vibrant blonde hair is shaved on the sides, but long on the top; he comes to class nearly everyday with it down and non-styled, bed head really. But you like it that way. Plus, this boy is smart. Not just making A’s smart, but this man could figure out how to time travel kind of smart. And the best part? He sits right in front of you. 

All throughout the dreary class, you secretly fantasize about this boy. Not always inappropriate- although those are some good ones- but of simple things too, like of him reading to you as you two snuggle in bed or having a classy dinner at some prestigious Italian restaurant. You feel silly, since you two have barely spoken a word to one another, but you couldn’t- can’t- help it. He’s just that attractive. 

“Okay, who’s next on the list? Kim…Kim Namjoon, you’re up,” your professor says in her typical monotone voice. You perk up a bit, grateful that you get the chance to actually observe his face and not the back of his gorgeous head. 

Namjoon nods to the professor and walks up to the front of the room, not a bit of nerves gripping his mind and body. He’s calm and collected as he begins to present his semester project- the assignment was to design an experiment that causes the brain to think differently and test it on a small pool of volunteers-, his lips looking plump and pink as the form words. You suddenly think about running up and kissing them, but decide against it. That would definitely not be discrete. 

His project is good, really, but you’re a bit too distracted. The only thought in your mind is “What does he look like with his shirt off?” instead of “Wow, what a good theory.” You feel guilty, you admit. He’s a faultless casualty to your secret desires, but it’s his own damn fault for being hot. 

As you continue letting your thoughts plague the poor boy’s innocence, you notice something weird. Namjoon begins to stumble over a few words, not a big deal at first. But as soon as you begin to think of kissing him with no clothes on, he oddly seems to grow speechless. At least, his cheeks burn bright pink and he can’t seem to say a sentence without going “uhm”. 

“Mr. Kim, are you alright?” your professor asks, a perplexed look on her face. Namjoon hasn’t messed up like this before. 

He nods. “I’m fine, ma'am. Just a bit nervous is all.” He chuckles awkwardly, but you notice everybody is too wrapped up in their own shit to care about what has been going on. 

The professor nods, and Namjoon continues, but the oddest thing happens. He locks eyes with you. And that’s not even the weirdest part- his voice enters your head and says something he most definitely isn’t saying out loud. “Stop thinking about me naked, I’m going to fail this presentation!” he hisses in your brain and you nearly jump back from the start. 

What the fuck is going on? you think to yourself, feeling extremely exposed and dumbfounded. Was it just your imagination being an asshole, or did he…read your fucking mind?

“Yes, I can read your mind. Now think about puppies or lunch instead of my body,” he says back, all still in your head. You’re watching him closely with your eyes, his gaze still targeted on you. He’s mostly composed himself now, the blush fading against his flawless skin as he finishes up. Sadly, yours is only taking hostage of your whole face, making completely obvious that you were flustered. 

Your mind is now filled with thoughts cursing yourself for being such a loser. How can you even face him again? You’re utterly embarrassed and humilated. The only person you’d consider a crush now knows you have your own fantasies about him. Wait- has he known this whole time?! you exclaim, instinctively covering your face with your hands and curling up the best you could in your seat. 

“Yes. I think it’s cute,” he replies to you. This time, it’s out loud. You look up to see he’s finished his presentation and is sitting in front of you. He’s smiling wide, half turned in his seat. 

“Oh my God,” you mumble, hiding your face. “I understand if you think I’m some major creep right now and never want to speak to me again.“ 

Namjoon laughs. "I don’t think you’re a creep. If you could read minds, you would know that I think the same about you half the time,” he tells you, tapping the top of your head. You warily lift it up and lock eyes with him. 

“You’re just saying that to lessen my mortification,” you say. There is now way he’d ever think of you that way. 

Namjoon cocks his head a raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I think of you that way?" 

You groan. "Stop with the mind thing, I’m going to die. Do you want me to die?”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “Of course not. But I can’t help but want to know what’s running through your head.” He reaches out and presses a finger to your forehead. “It’s pretty interesting. And flattering." 

You scrunch up your nose. "Whatever you say…" 

The professors suddenly announces the class over twenty minutes early, leaving everybody free to go. You hurriedly grab your bag and throw it over your shoulder, eager to escape Namjoon’s gorgeous gaze. 

You practically run out of the classroom, ready to spend the rest of the day curled up in your bed watching Netflix. Though, your plans are foiled when you feel a hand on your shoulder, stopping your movement. 

Namjoon. "Listen, I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’ll stop listening, I swear,” he promises, a look of apology spread across his features. You sigh, locking your eyes on the ground to prevent yourself from swooning. 

“It’s okay. I should be apologizing to you, anyway,” you reply. Namjoon chuckles, then gently grabs your chin inbetween his soft, slim fingers, pulling your head up to look at him. 

“Well, how about for a formal apology we go make some of your fantasies reality?” he suggests, a smirk playing on his lips. You bite your lips, feeling flustered all over again. 

With a nervous smile, you grab his hand and jerk your head towards your dorm. “You know what, I think you just read my mind.”

the galaxy in our hearts || myg

⇢ summary: min yoongi has been raising his daughter on his own her entire life, convinced that he needs no one else apart from their family of two. you come along to change that. (single parent au)

⇢ genre: the fluffiest fluff

⇢ word count: 6.16k

⇢ warnings: swearing

⇢ note: sort of a holiday au towards the end; written because yoongi deserves all the happy endings in the world, even in fictional universes.

When Min Yoongi sends his lovely daughter off to school for the very first time, he cries.

You see, it is typically the exact opposite, with your child hanging off of you and sobbing out big, fat tears as they urgently plea for you to not abandon them there. But Yoongi’s daughter is not exactly a normal child and he is not exactly a normal father, so things do not go as planned as he drops her off at the front of the classroom.

They are stopped in the doorway together and he is silently observing the classroom as though the walls themselves might reach out and swallow her whole. Those same menacing walls are so brightly colored they nearly burn through his retinas. Everything in the room appears to be masked over in vivid hues, including the violently canary yellow blouse of his daughter’s future teacher. Nervousness laces through Yoongi’s body when he notices exactly how crowded the room is, teeming with activity as other young students at the desks chatter back and forth, already playing with one another.

His daughter has been homeschooled by him her whole life until now, and though he knows she needs to be with other children her own age, he does not quite know how ready she is for this yet.

When he squeezes her hand, Eunha squeezes back.

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Only Mine {M}

Jeon Jungkook x Reader Genre: Smut + / jealousy   Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content Word Count: 5,184

Jungkook never had any serious troubles with women. He enjoyed the simple satisfaction of sharing a meal with them, talking with them and the added pleasure of sex. Women seemed to reciprocate the feelings back, naturally attracted to him and often taking the first initiative with little effort from himself. However, what he did lack when it came to the opposite sex was not offering them anything beyond that. There wasn’t any traumatizing experience that happened to him. No sad break up story that caused him to close himself off from anyone. In reality, ever since he was young and he experienced the joy of women, relationships and settling down never appealed to him. He was quite sure that the bachelor life was made for him. No matter how appealing the woman he met was, if she was on the lookout for a boyfriend he made sure to steer clear and keep his distance. He wasn’t particular with any desired traits in a woman that peaked his interest. As long as she didn’t bore him, that was enough. But he bored easily after some time, hence why relationships and being tied down never worked out. Once the initial attraction and spark dimmed and he started to get to know her, to get comfortable with her he’d become discouraged. If the hazy cloud that screamed ‘commitment’ would start to loom over him, Jungkook knew how to skillfully shut things down right away. Like a pro he was well equipped with techniques to make sure things ended swiftly, naturally and more importantly, cleanly. “It’s not you it’s me,” was the classic cliche line for others, but for himself his words boosted their ego, sending them off with no regrets and the promise that they could remain friends, sometimes with the added benefits.

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