Urs (m)

urs (m)

seokjin’s been dreaming of this moment for so long…

pairing | kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings | smut and too much fluff for my heart to handle. p.s. this is 100% pbn seokjin and his gf’s first time together words | 4,856

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falling into you (pt. 1)

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, shy/nerd!jk + bad girl!oc (mature themes)

→word count: 11,249

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— BUZZED, 1 (m.)

pairing; taehyung/reader genre; f2l au, smut words; 6,848 rating; explicit

— synopsis; maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

contents; sex toys, multiple orgasms, tipsy taehyung, fingering, dirty talk, phone sex (sort of), dom!taehyung, oral (f receiving).

— chapters; one | two

You stared at your laptop’s screen, gnawing on your bottom lip as you debated whether or not to purchase the item on the page.

Utimi Upgraded Silicone 10 Speed Vibrator. $19.78 + free shipping.

You crossed your ankles and tapped your fingers against the desk you were seated at, still mulling over this decision. Did you really want to spend almost $20 on a vibrator when your hand could clearly do the trick?

It started a few nights ago, when you’d gone over to your friend’s apartment for a wine night. A few of your close friends had gotten tipsy, and eventually—somehow—the conversation had dipped into sex. The friends hosting the get together gushed about how amazing their boyfriends were in bed, and you sat quietly while listening to a few others pipe up about their partners’ unsatisfactory performance.

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learn to trust || ksj

⇢ summary: love is a terrifying thing, and seokjin teaches you how to forget that in the hazy hours of early morning. (boyfriend au)

⇢ genre: fluff, light angst, implied smut

⇢ word count: 2.2k

⇢ warnings: swearing

⇢ note: inspired by learn to trust by bad suns, personal feelings, and the fact that i haven’t written for seokjin yet (which is super idiotic akljgfsfd;kl). written all in one sitting because i’m ridiculous like that.

Kim Seokjin is beautiful, and this is not news to anyone. Certainly not to you.

He is somewhat of an enigma for anyone to behold, a work of art come to life that nearly pains your eyes. Full lips, a delicate nose, radiant skin, hair that sweeps across his forehead in such an effortless manner it astounds you every time. Broad shoulders fill out every shirt he wears, yet his torso ends at a sharp point when it nears his impeccably small waist. You could wax poetic about his marvelous features for years. Decades. Centuries, even.

What strikes you as particularly strange, however, is the fact that people feel he concludes there, a pretty face that should be assigned to a thousand modeling agencies and nothing more. It is as if they see him as something less tangible than an alluring body. They do not bother to gaze past his face and peer into his golden, generous heart. They fail to see the selflessness that he has when he offers to drive his best friend to school every day, or the kind way he tucks sleepy people into bed, or how he relentlessly cooks meals for his friends when he has no reason to do so at all, or the fact that each and every cliché joke he gives is not for his own benefit, but for the benefit of those who will feel an overabundance of elation from his humor.

In a peculiar way, you do not necessarily blame them for feeling like this. His heart is almost too much to bear.

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sonic rain (m)

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

genre: smut, fluff, slight angst ∘ dancer, college au

word count: 25,043

description: Feeling as if molasses coats his bones isn’t a good metaphor for a dance major like Hoseok, but maybe you’re the girl that can wash his troubles away… Now if only he’d gotten your damn number.

It was one of those miserably hot overcast days. The type where the sun’s rays proved useless against the murky clouds, the constant threat of rain just waiting for that opportune moment to pour down. Pour down and soak your backpack through to that $280 physics text book — yeah, it was that type of day.   

From the time that Hoseok left for classes, to the time he arrived back at his tiny one-bedroom apartment, humidity consumed the air. The fabric of his tank-top and joggers clung to him with sweat, beads of perspiration coating the strands of his hair as he tucked it beneath a cap to combat his frizzy locks.

Just as he parked his car and gathered his books after a grueling day of dance practice mixed in with gen eds, he felt the light sprinkle of what would soon be another down pour. It was projected to rain through the night, harsh thunder storms with possible power outages predicted to begin in the next couple of hours. He quickly jogged to the front door, inserting the key before stumbling inside and tossing his backpack to the floor.

“Finally.” He sighed to himself, his body going limp as he collapsed against the couch.

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she is of crimson petals.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: angst, gore / vampire, hanahaki au

warnings: mentions of blood, death, and murder

word count: 1,559

description: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. + “It reminded me of you.”

Taehyung had seen enough red in his lifetime to fill the Mississippi, the bloody current carrying the endless stream of bodies down the river of his past. They drifted in mangled pieces of splintered limbs and tattered flesh, the water unable to submerge the vast quantity of his indiscretions. His years of ripping and raging proved to be too much for the great river, even in the metaphorical confinements of his head it seemed. They littered the washed up crevices of his mind, tainting the cerulean memories that reminded him of the few good moments of his last two-hundred and eighty-seven years.

Of course, Taehyung had never been one for remorse in these types of situations. Once he was turned, his conscious took a backseat, so much so that he couldn’t even remember the disposition he’d wielded as a human. He imagined that he must’ve been the same cold-hearted, apathetic, monster that he was today. To him body count was a number on a similar wavelength to temperature, throw-away information that was constantly changing, just in Taehyung’s case it was only moving in the upward direction. His killings may have slowed since that first century or so thanks to a certain friend, but relapses were inevitable. Every couple of decades he found himself once again being consumed by the insatiable lust of his instincts, the water dragging him down the river, his bodies in tow.

That was just who Taehyung was; a killer.

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