The McDonald’s french fry
is unbelievable. When you bite into it, you think: It’s so tasty, it
can’t be real. As soon as it gets cold, it turns to lard and flubble. I
mean, have you ever tried to eat a McDonald’s french fry that’s gone
cold? That’s one of the circles of hell. The gulf between the warm,
fresh, lightly salted McDonald’s french fry and the cold McDonald’s
french fry is as great a gulf as any I know. - Viggo Mortensen, Esquire magazine (x)
-never sleep when I should
-cry too much about small things
-automatically take things personally
-say the worst puns
-never read or follow instructions
-always lose track of time
-am never sure of anything
-forget all practical information
-always get lost irl and in my thoughts
-never know anything for sure
-am super clumsy
-worry too much about tiny disagreements
-talk to myself, a lot
-sing songs about everything
-am an emotional rollercoaster
-make things awkward
Since I’m on holiday, I got to read SO many wonderful fics this week!
how the mighty fall (in love) by braveten, Gen, 28k Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common. 1. They have unrealistic expectations for romance. 2. They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations. 3. They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.” Just finished yesterday!
The Boyfriend Experience by cryingoverspilledvodka, Explicit, 107k (WIP) Katsuki Yuuri is an accomplished escort at 23, operating under the pseudonym Eros, in Detroit. When one of his favourite clients sets him up with none other than world-renowned figure skater Victor Nikiforov, the delicate balance between Yuuri’s personal and professional life teeters ever closer towards ruin. Y’ALL…. this fic is gold
Twenty-Five Hours by 0lizzybennet0, Mature, 14k (WIP) In which Yuuri spends a 25 hour flight next to Victor Nikiforov, skating legend, and feels it might simultaneously be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. EVERYONE MUST READ THIS FIC IT IS SO GOOD
Nerve Endings by Phyona, Explicit, 54k (WIP) When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri’s anxiety and Victor’s secrets to find their balance. Love this fic so much!
Like a Fairytale by lucycamui, Teen, 48k (WIP) In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri. SO CUTE
Masquerade by Ashida, Explicit, 60k (WIP) Yuuri is part of Japan’s most notorious mafias. Victor is the head of the Russian mafia. After brief meetings throughout the span of five years, they decide to go off together and leave everything behind. I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC!
On My Love by RikoJasmine, Teen, 72k (WIP) Time travel AU where Yuuri and Victor are happy aged and married, but an accident occurs and suddenly Yuuri wakes up back in Detroit, in a time before he had even met Victor. Angst and pining ensues. Amazing fic!
dear true love by cityboys, Teen, 36k (WIP) Victor is a writer pretending to be on a break; Yuuri is a pianist pretending to not be on a break. They meet, somehow, in the backwaters of Saga Prefecture, Japan. I adore this fic!!!
Turn it, leave it, stop, format it by ebenroot, Explicit, 19k “If you want, I can recommend you some security programs that you can download for free and protect your computer. That way, you won’t be at risk of losing these cute photos of your dog even when you browse websites like ‘Luscious Lonely Wives’.” Victor gives one long ‘haa’. “I don’t browse those websites,” he says through his straining smile. SO CUTE AND FUNNY!
Beside the Dancing Sea by lily_winterwood, MapleTreeway, Explicit, 186k New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer’s block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve. Amazing fic!
Rock, Paper, Scissors by nerdlife4eva, Mature, 3.3k Victor and Yuuri discover the only chore they both dislike is vacuuming and decide to rock, paper, scissors (RPS) each time the chore needs to be completed. Yuuri is an ace at RPS and Chris sends them personalized charts to track their successes. Super funny!
turntables by Vitali (exocara), Teen, 4.3k It happens approximately one week after Yuuri’s disastrous performance in Sochi. Viktor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov I wish I could date pretty black haired boys who dance well. LOOOVE THIS
cover story by fan_nerd, Explicit, 8.2k Yuuri stares down at the person standing in the doorway. The stranger hisses, “Who do you think you are, anyways?” Quickly, before he can really think about it, Yuuri responds, “I’m Victor’s boyfriend.” It’s a lie, but the words feel good in his mouth, and for some reason, he doesn’t want to take them back. GREAT fic! BIG THUMBS UP!
(˃̶͈̀＿˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾( ﾉ_ಠ)₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎
Here’s to another week of great fic reading! Be sure to give the authors some love!
the worst thing about trying to decide to read a fic:
-the summary is good but the story is written in a different language or is badly written.
-opening it to find no spaces between the paragraphs.
-both your otp and notp is tagged and you have no clue if you want to take a risk or not.
-tagged major character death and you start sweating.
-hasn’t been updated in 80 years but the summary is on point and their the best fucking writer ever.
-you start reading only to find that the person updates every ten years and you just happened to catch them on a day they finally updated.
-you find a writer and check them out, only to find out they mostly write about your notp - and of course they always update, have perfect writing and have stories that are epic.
-stories with so many fucking tags, you just shake your head and move on.
-the “i suck at summaries please check it out still” and you just, pause because it has your otp and you debate whether or not to take the risk.
-you find a pairing you never considered before and think holy shit, that could be hot and spend all day hunting through the tag.
-you ship a pairing so fucking hard, only to find like two fics and you start weeping.
-when you find a perfect story only to check the tags and see some weird shit that disgusts you and you scream why.
-a fic with good writing and summary but it’s so short or is only fan-art.
-a crossover fic where you have both of your fandoms but don’t have both of otps, just one.
-one shots that are so good you wish they were longer.
-when your notp is tagged but it’s labeled as a past relationship or says your otp is endgame, and you have to go through the notp’s awkward breakup in order for your otp to happen.
-when someone doesn’t tag properly and a plot twist hits you and you want to cry.
-you finally find a great fic that has been updated and the last update says writes block, personal issues- can’t do this, asks for co-writer, discontinues it or says lol i hate how this is turning out, deleting.
-when a writer as twenty stories to update and you cry because you like all of them and you have to wait.
-when you remember a story from like five years ago and you search for it, only to find it’s been deleted or can’t seem to find it anywhere.
-when a writer gives you an update schedule and you’re excited because they follow it but then they start missing it and you just…
-when a writer deletes a story and rewrites the same story but you like the original better.
-when your reading a story about a rare pairing that interests and your otp hate each other or just friends and it’s just so weird to read.
-when one half of your otp is in another relationship and the other half shows up with someone else and then you remember, right i’m not reading a story about my otp so i can’t get mad.
-when your otp is popular but it’s not as popular as another ship in the fandom and you hate how the other ship as so much more stories than your ship.
-when you try to read an ot3 relationship because it has two characters you love but the other character is usually from your notp and you hate when your notp share moments.
-when you beg an author (usually one where they aren’t in the fandom really) to write more stories about your otp and they say maybe and it never happens.
-when the writer literally shits on your favorite character and you can’t go through it anymore.
-when your otp isn’t the main pairing and you don’t really care about the other pairings in the story and skip to your otp parts.
-when a story has a million words and it’s so good and you know that you will spend all day and night reading it until your eyes hurt.
-when a story have 200 parts to it and you lose all hope after a while because the story is dragging.
-when your otp is going through something and so many stories are filled with angst, fluff and hurt that it makes you cry because yup, i need to read about my pain for my otp.
-when the writer refuses to write the smut you been waiting for and your otp is stuck in unresolved tension mode forever.
-when the writer unexpected changes the story’s events and you are disappointed by the direction.
-when you find a great au and the characters are so out of character… it makes you sad.
-when you open a fic only to find you hate the point of view and you scream.
-when you request a prompt and the author writes it but you are disappointed and just smile through the pain.
-when you have such a good idea in your head and you try to write it but it’s so bad that you delete it and cry, hoping someone else writes the brilliant idea that you had.
-when you don’t ship something anymore but see a great plot and you click the story and take a deep breath - because shit is about to go down.
-when you reading a great story but get distracted and skip some parts, shit goes down in between and then you think fuck, and have to start over.
-when it’s tagged “slow burn” and you say i can do this and it’s chapter 30 and my ship still hate each other like what.
-when the author says this is their first time writing smut and you think on god they better do this right - only to find out they writing eight pages on your otp making love. like yes.
-when the smut is so rushed or improper you feel cheated and log off because done. like so done.
-when it’s tagged “everyone lives” and your eyes water because that’s all you ever wanted in life.
-when the author leaves a cliffhanger and says in the author’s note “lol sorry about the cliffhanger, i’ll update soon”. you ain’t sorry, stop lying.
-when you see that the story is complete and do a happy dance, only to realize that it ended badly or the sequel/series hasn’t been updated.
As delighted as I am by Milo’s fall from conservative grace, I can’t help but be troubled by the fact that it took a pedophilia joke rather than, y’know, the millions of unironically hateful things he’s said about trans people, gay people, muslims, every other demographic basically
pls you cant just give my weak tiny heart a harry potter jimon au and only go up to year 4
hello!!!!!! i’m sorry you sent this like FIVE WEEKS AGO but i felt shy to respond to this without having some more content to give u :’( the original jimon HP AU post in my head had them all a lil bit older, so as far as jace and simon’s hogwarts experience goes they would be at the end of year 6 when they get together :D
below are some more events that happen in that universe for your consideration:
after the incident at the tournament, jace has trouble sleeping for weeks, unable to get out of his mind the image of simon with his throat slit, staring at jace with fear and horror etched into his eyes. it’s not until a silver arctic fox starts curling around him each night that he finds his anxious, frantic thoughts slowly come to a rest each night, replaced by feelings of warmth and comfort. simon never brings it up so jace follows his cue, and it’s not until years later that jace finds out that simon hadn’t been sending his patronus to jace on purpose - simon’s magic was instinctively reacting to what was in his heart, chasing away the monsters plaguing jace in the only way it knew how.
the first time they have a real fight (“clary’s mom woke up from her coma! i told you i couldn’t make it!” yells simon; “clearly i got the message and waited at that alley for two goddamn hours because that’s fun for me!” jace yells back) jace suffers more than just the regular emotional pain of not speaking to his boyfriend for three days - the house-elves and their frankly bizarre obsession with simon means that they sabotage jace’s meals with excessive paprika, refuse to clean the gryffindor dorms, and ‘accidentally’ lose his quidditch gear in the wash.
once they make up, jace carefully takes simon’s face between his hands and says, “you’re not allowed to be angry at me for as long as we’re in this school and i have to rely on those savage creatures for survival.” simon says, “jace, i literally get mad at you at least twice a day,” but the look of extreme disappointment he gives to the house-elves in the kitchen that night ensures that jace lives like a king for his remaining days at hogwarts.
once, after jace does some particularly spectacular wandwork in charms that sets simon’s body alight, he drags jace into their favourite spot in the library, hidden in the back of the restricted section. simon pulls at jace’s red and gold tie, murmuring, “you can’t just do that and not expect me to - to -“ he gets distracted by his task of untucking jace’s shirt and sliding his hand to the warm skin of jace’s waist, and jace takes the hint and laughingly pressing his mouth against simon’s. as always, simon’s heart races from the thrill of it, his back flush against the spines of these forbidden, ancient books with the boy he loves kissing him such intent, slow and deep and - and -
I meant to. I had it all written out and everything, but I balked. Even an ocean away I was too shy.
I thought I had more time. I spend most of my life with the panicked feeling that I do not have enough time, that some invisible timer is forever counting down and I cannot keep up, but that time I thought otherwise, and I was wrong.
Not that there was anything especially interesting in that letter; nothing, I am sure, that you hadn’t heard many times before. You meant a lot to me. You meant a lot to a lot of people.
You helped me come to grips with the world. Not that you explained everything about it, because no one could, but you made it seem like the kind of place that could be explained. Maybe better than that, you made it alright to not understand some things, made it less frightening to not be able to figure everything out.
Reading your books made something that had been frantic and upset in me for a long time calm down and retreat to a manageable distance.
I have carried them with me as totems in frightening places. Often simply having one nearby made me feel better. They all have stories: this one given by a friend, this one bought in the middle of that camping trip, this one sent in the mail from Finland. They are battered and cracked and sometimes stained and they are every one of them exceedingly good friends.
They have always been easy to read. I don’t mean that in the sense that they are simplistic or not challenging or anything like that. What I mean to say is that even when I am feeling my worst, when so many things that should not be hard are hard, reading your books is easy. It is a difficult thing to explain but it is an important thing.
But there are books of yours that I have not read, because I am not yet ready to face the fact that there are now and forever a finite amount of them. That someday there will be no more new journeys with you.
Dear sir, you have inspired me as a writer, but more than that, you have helped me be strong enough and well enough to write at all. To be curious and enthusiastic about the world instead of afraid of it. To challenge what is abhorrent without losing tolerance for the flaws inherent in us all. You have helped me shape beliefs strong enough that I can hold onto them even when the malfunctioning parts of my brain are clamoring to assure me otherwise.
I wish desperately that you were still here; the world seems to grow more confusing and terrible by the day. Good god, but we need you now more than ever. What a crime beyond measure, to take you so soon.
Dear sir, I am sorry I never sent you my letter, but if I am at all able I intend to make it up to you by using the gifts you gave me.
I think I’ll never understand that fascination that people have for France, the french language, living in France, being french and speaking french, and etc. We do not spend our days in a café in Paris listening to La vie en rose, drinking wine, eating bread and cheese, smoking expensive cigarette and looking at the passants through our Chanel shades.
The Colin Mochrie story? Gladly. This is a good story.
So I go to this college, and it can best be described as a little weird. It desperately wants to be Cambridge, but it’s not Cambridge, so it takes out its frustration with not being Cambridge on weird collective mockeries of Cambridge stuff. So far so good.
One of these weird mockeries is the debate club.
It’s hard to even properly call the Literary Institute a debate club - it is a club, and it does debates, but the debates are 100% stand-up comedy in a parliamentary format and the other half is bullshit pantomiming. For instance, every year at matriculation, the club drunkenly rushes the stage, interrupts the ceremony, and calls everyone in the audience a horse’s ass (occasionally while quoting Dune). It also puts on a yearly event called ‘Tuck-Ins’, in which people in the dorms can sign up (or sign their friends up) to have the entire LIT burst into their room, give them bedtime snacks, give them bedtime beer, sing some bedtime songs, and tell them a bedtime story. Except, the LIT never does anything seriously, so the bedtime song was always Barrett’s Privateers and the bedtime story was almost always something we called ‘The Rat Story’. Let me tell you about the Rat Story.
The Rat Story was a piece of… literature… that a LIT member dragged out of the dregs of the internet many years ago. Nobody knows where it came from, and my efforts to find it again were unsuccessful, but good lord, it was bad. It was a page-and-a-half-long Hermione/Wormtail (rat form) smut fic and it was awful.So awful. I’m cringing just thinking about it. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever read, and at this point I basically know it by heart. We read it aloud, from the poorly worded introduction to its horrible closing line (AND HE SCAMPERED AWAY WET! STUNNED! AND THRILLED!) dozens of times in a single night to unsuspecting students. It was an experience.
Now you might be wondering how Colin Mochrie fits into this.
So, one of the other things my college does powerfully and often is pretension. We are the most pretentious college you will ever see, and our college clubs are proof positive of this. Every year, various college clubs send out dozens of official-sounding letters inviting our various favourite well-known-people to attend our meagre college events (I, as president of the James Bond Society, personally invited Barack Obama, Sean Connery, and the Queen to our AGM). However, this year the Comedy Club was riding particularly high, and it sent out quasi-sincere invitations to speak to a variety of Canadian comedians.
And Colin Mochrie showed up, one fateful Tuck-Ins night.
He gave a talk, which was very good, but noticed as the talk finished that many students were rushing away to something in an awful hurry. We explained that it was the night of Tuck Ins, an important and sacred college tradition and that
We would be delighted if he would join us.
And that, my friends, is the story of how I found myself crammed in a dorm room with 20 other people, listening to Colin Mochrie describe Peter Pettigrew’s rat boner to a couple of second years who had no idea what they were getting into.
hey you AP 🤓 🤓 📚 slutzz😫 👅 💦APUSH 🇺🇸 🇺🇸 exam is coming 💦 up and the only way to pass 💯is to ride that juDICKial review 📜 like marbury v. DADDYson 😩❤️ and succ 💦 👅 Alexander HUNGilton’s juicy 🍭 reDICKstribution 🍆 of wealth💸💸and if you study 🤓💁 you’ll won’t fail 🙅🙅♂️🙅like the confederASSy 😡😡👴🏻 in the civil 👫war 💥💥⚔️ but make sure 👀 you send this to 1️⃣4️⃣ of your thiccest thots👌🏽👌🏽 if u get 0️⃣back ur a dirty russian 🇷🇺 spy🕵️♀️😡 if u get 7️⃣back ur a sexy 👅 💦 ameriCAN sl00t, if u get all 1️⃣4️⃣👌back then ur better than WOODrow Wilson bc he couldn’t get congress 🇺🇸👎👎 to join the League 💯 of DANKtions 😩😩🍆 share in 1️⃣7️⃣7️⃣6️⃣ seconds or u won’t win 💪on this exam like Andrew JACKEDson 👴🏻😩👅💦 at the battle 🔥💥 of New Orleans 🌶🇺🇸 in 1️⃣8️⃣1️⃣5️⃣ 😫📅⌛️
And Make Believe It Came from You (2525 words) by Sproings Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Captain America (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Ororo Munroe Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied/Referenced Surgery, mild use of puns, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Summary:
I miss you.
I see you every day, and I wave at you, and you wave back, and we smile, and I miss you.
Genre: Kitten!Yoongi, Sub!Yoongi (lowkey), smut, some fluff with little angst (but mostly smut)
Warnings: (this is really tame) oral (male/female receiving)
Word Count: 3,733 words (of the worst thing you’ll read)
A/N: This was supposed to be Sub!Yoongi and posted on his birthday but neither of them worked out in the end. This is one of my least favourite smuts I’ve written, I’m sorry if you find it cringe or too rushed :( feedback is always appreciated.
The first time you had met Min Yoongi was when he was at the supermarket. Yoongi’s skin was pale, it almost blended in with the white walls of the building.
You could already hear how unhappy the cleaners were going to be when they saw the dark specks of Yoongi’s fur on the perfectly white and clean tiles.
The first time you had met Min Yoongi was when he was at the supermarket. His fluffy black ears were sitting on the top of his equally dark mop of hair that looked too soft to even exist. Yoongi’s skin was pale, it almost blended in with the white walls of the building. His black tail was moving back and forth by itself on the white floor, sometimes curling itself up and then gently resting back on the ground or around his lean legs.
You could already hear how unhappy the cleaners were going to be when they saw the dark specks of Yoongi’s fur on the perfectly white and clean tiles. In his arms, he was carrying four bottles of milk in his arms and struggling to pick up the remaining boxes of the fish sticks for himself.
“Would you like some help sir?” You called out, even though you were supposed to be stacking cereal boxes, it wouldn’t hurt to help someone out.
“O-Oh, umm…” Yoongi glanced down at his arms before looking back up at you with his big eyes, “that’d be helpful, actually.” The corners of his mouth moved up, a small smile being shot at you which made you weak. You had barely even talked to this man or seen him around before but something about him was already drawing you in. You sent back a shy smile of your own before grabbing the only box of fish sticks that was in his hands.
“Could you actually, get another two boxes of sticks? They-they’re really nice…” Yoongi stuttered out quietly, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.
You couldn’t help but grin back at the sight. As a kitten hybrid, he was obviously supposed to be cute, but something about him made him stand out to the other kitten’s you had met. “Of course. Is there anything else you’d like?”
Yoongi desperately wanted to say “Can I get your number? Can I get your name?” (yes my SHINee trashed can self needed to make this reference) but, it was too soon right? He barely knew you let along your name but you were cute to him, radiating innocence and sexiness at the same time and he didn’t know how.
“No, thank you.”
“Not a problem.” There was an awkward moment of silence as the both of you walked up to the cashier and placed things down. Yoongi rubbed his arms, trying to gain feeling back into them after carrying the milk bottles for a while.
“I think next time, it’d be better to use a basket rather than get sore arms.”
“I’ll remember, for next time of course.”
Next time happened to be three days later. Yoongi hoped he’d be able to talk to you again, or see you. That would be enough. You were doing your usual job again, stacking. It was boring and you hoped for something to take your mind off it.
Maybe that’s why your mind had drifted over to the boy from a few days ago. You were able to remember how cute he looked, how his round eyes stood out against his pale complexion, the way his tail brushed from side to side.
As he walked in, his nose picked up the distinct smell of your sweet smelling scent, something along the lines of lavender and rose mashed into one. Yoongi smiled to himself as he walked in. Of course Yoongi had remembered you saying taking a basket would be easier for him instead of carrying everything around, but he didn’t spare them a glance as he walked past, hoping he was able to gain your attention again and getting you to help him.
Yoongi walked over to the milk section again, looking intensely at the milk bottles to gain some more time in hopes of you walking by him or something.
“Back again I see, but no basket,” You giggled as you stood next to him.
“Thought I’d lose feeling in my arms again in hopes of seeing a beautiful lady again.”
Yoongi and yourself were both in more than just a little bit of shock when those words left his pink lips. A pink tinge made it’s way to his cheeks again, just like a few days ago. Needless to say, Yoongi didn’t hesitate to come back whenever you had shifts in hopes of seeing you again, maybe buying too many milk bottles and fish sticks along the way.
After that, it didn’t take very long afterwards for the two of you to become friends but you always wanted to be more than just friends. You had learnt that Yoongi wasn’t that innocent kitten you had met at work. Instead, he was filled with snarky comments to make you at a loss for words on how to sass him back. Sexual comments (which were apparently a way to tease you) that made you turn bright red and a deep morning voice that would make you wet embarrassingly quickly. However he’d never think of you as more than a friend.
You had walked into your apartment after a rough day of work, wanting nothing more than a warm shower and to collapse onto your bed. Yoongi was staying over at yours while his apartment was getting fixed. Somehow he had broken the sink and the toilet at the same time in one day.
You didn’t expect to come home to whining Yoongi with his head tossed back as his hands were wrapped around the hard base of his cock. You certainly didn’t expect yourself to be standing there seeing him jerk himself off. Yoongi knew you were standing there looking at him, his ears twitched and picked the sounds of your footsteps before you walked in. He smirked to himself.
A low whine of your name fell out of his lips making you move your legs together, throat going dry. Seeing Yoongi like that was a beautiful view for your eyes. His cheeks flushed a light pink as his pale hand moving up and down on his cock almost so fast that it was in a blur, how his soft supple lips would release moans and small throaty hisses from his chest at the pleasure he was feeling.
“Ar-Are you going to come over and help me out a little? Or stare a-at me until I cum on myself?” Yoongi was hoping his voice would come out a little more structured, but the pleasure going through his body at this given moment was enough to screw him over and make his voice rather high pitched.
Your eyes widened a little, the sight being an incredible turn on for you. Your brain was confused, feet frozen to one spot, unsure of whether to go to him or forget you ever saw him in this vulnerable state. Yes, you were definitely attracted to Yoongi, however seeing him like this in front of you took away any possible air you had in your lungs, the sight made everything around you turn blurry, concentrating on just him alone.
You weighed the ups and downs. What if you left him there to help himself? Would that be an opportunity you would be willing to give up? Would you rather sleep than possibly get laid? Would it make you a bad person for not helping out a friend? But most importantly, would you regret not giving Yoongi head if you walked off?
Some part of you wasn’t ready to pass this opportunity up. It might not happen again, why not try it out? Dropping your bag and taking off your shoes, you stepped closer to where he was seated on the couch, going to sit on your knees before he pulled you on top of him making you place your legs either side of his, your skirt bunch up around your upper thighs. The action made Yoongi raise his head to look at you, hand falling from his hard on.
Yoongi smirked at you slightly before pulling you down for a kiss. It was filled with hunger and lust, it was rather rough and sloppy but you didn’t mind it, you sensed Yoongi needed release and that’s what you were going to give him.
Your hand trailed down his chest, his stomach slightly tensing as you got closer and closer to his lower region. Your mouth swallowed a whine that came from Yoongi when your hand grazed over his dick. You pulled back from the kiss, biting your lip down at Yoongi because he looked so cute below you even though you had barely touched him. This sight was something you never wanted to forget, yet never want it to end and wanted more of it at the same time.
You raised your finger and ran it over the bulging vein on the side of his dick. Raising your hand to your face, you spit on it before wrapping it around Yoongi’s cock, all the while keeping eye contact with him. Your hand moved all the way down to the base of his cock slowly before coming back up to his tip and then repeating the action.
“Fuck,” Yoongi whispered, closing his eyes slightly as your hand slightly tightened around his length. Yoongi’s hand came to rest on the part of your thighs that were exposed, slightly raising it up your hips a little more before moving his hand to your ass and giving it a playful spank which made you let out a slight gasp.
Finally, you moved off his lap, getting on your knees and separating his legs so you could sit between them. You took your time with Yoongi, kissing his thighs until until you reached the base of his dick and taking it into your hands again.
“D-Dont tease, please,” Yoongi whined as your tongue kept placing small kitten (hehe kitten, cause Yoongi’s a kitten too lmao I’m sorry) licks on his tip, licking away the beads of pre-cum that had gathered there. You let out a small giggle before flattening your tongue and licking up the length of his cock making Yoongi let out a breathy moan.
You opened your mouth, letting his cock slip inside inch by inch. Hollowing out your cheeks, you moved your head back and repeated the action, sucking hard but not enough to hurt him. You were determined to make Yoongi cum.
Hearing his groan when you did that made you think back to the time when you heard him pleasuring himself in his bedroom the other night. Yoongi had left the door open, letting your hear his noises when you walked over to your room. His groans were soft but just loud enough to be heard from outside. The quiet noises of slick juices mixed in with his small moans had fucked with your mind and any innocent thoughts you had before, were replaced ones of how Yoongi would look while whining and coming on himself.
“G-God - Y/N, fuck don’t stop,” low whimpers were being heard from him. Yoongi looked down and locked eyes with you.
“You look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock Y/N. So pretty,” he spoke but mostly to himself, however that didn’t stop a low moan slipping from yourself, the vibrations going all through Yoongi’s body.
Yoongi’s moans got louder and be became a little bit more restless, hips bucking into your mouth making you choke a little but that only made him groan - he bought his own hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair to his ears, rubbing them softly in hopes of reaching his peak. It didn’t take long until Yoongi came whilst your name slipped off his lips, his cum shooting into your mouth.
Yoongi lay there a little breathless but pulled you up, licking your chin and the sides of your mouth, swallowing the residue of his own cum that didn’t get swallowed by you. Yoongi’s hair was stuck to his forehead due to the sweat, his soft black ears hanging back tiredly.
“I-I’ll go now,” you whispered, turning embarrassed by the not so innocent situation that took place. Hopping off his lap quickly, you grabbed your bag and rushed to your room, a red tinge over your cheeks and your entire body burning.
Yoongi was left there breathless and more than a little taken back. The girl of his dreams had just given him a blowjob he’d been wanting for so long, but now it was going to be even harder (than his dick amirite) to forget you on your knees taking his dick into your mouth.
Waking up the next morning, you stared at the ceiling above you. How were you going to face Yoongi now? You gave Yoongi head, your best friend, a blowjob! How were you supposed to talk to him when all you could think about was how good he looked above you, becoming a whimpering mess. You lazily put on a shirt and shorts, washing your face and heading out into the kitchen to make breakfast for you both.
“Morning,” Yoongi greeted you in the kitchen after he had taken a shower, his wet and dark locks making him look even better if possible.
“M-Morning.” You replied, stuttering over the word just a little.
“What’s for breakfast?” He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Hm, sounds delicious.” Yoongi started before everything went quiet for a few moments.
“Look, Yoongi about yesterday-”
“Let me fuck you.”
“W-What?” You turned around to face him but maybe it was a bad idea. His gaze was burning into your eyes, intense and determined.
“I didn’t stutter. I like you, I really, really like you. Do you know how hard it was to fall asleep yesterday night?” Yoongi took a step towards you, placing his hand on your cheek. The action making you sigh contently and press your cheek against his hand. “Especially after your cute little mouth was wrapped around my cock, God, I can’t forget it.”
“I see the way you look at me, it’s a little obvious you like me I have to say,” He chuckled, “Y/N, please say something, you don’t know how much self control it’s taking me to not take you right here right now.”
“Then do it.” Not even a second later his soft lips were pressed against yours, his large hands coming to pull your body against his. You raised your hands to wrap them around his neck, fingers twirling into his hair and tugging gently, making him groan. Yoongi was hard in no time, his dick pressing against your lower stomach.
“Yoongi, couch,” was all you managed to mutter out against his lips before his arms wrapped around your thighs, making you jump and wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips were still pressed against each others, it was needy, but the both of you couldn’t pull away from each other. Yoongi made it to the couch (all the while bumping into a few things), sitting down so his back was against the rest as you sat over his legs again, a replay of last night coming into play.
His hands came to your waist, pulling you in closer. Your heat rubbed against his growing erection, the slight contact making you moan. You could feel Yoongi smirking while he kissed you - the small moan he got out of you making him want to hear more.
You sounded so cute to him, yet so fucking sexy at the same time. Taking a hold of your hips, he began to rock your hips against his hard on, making you pull away from the kiss, mouth slightly ajar as you felt the pleasure shoot up through your entire body. Yoongi’s hands fluttered just underneath your shirt, pulling the material off of your upper body, staring at you with a brief smile on his face.
“You’re so beautiful, so much more than what I imagined.” Yoongi muttered, mostly talking to himself, voice coming out as a low whisper but your ears managed to pick it up - a blush spreading across your face. Yoongi smiled up at you, placing kisses to your neck before you felt his teeth nibbling at it. The contrast of the sweet kisses and the biting making you go a little crazy.
Yoongi didn’t waste anymore time, his hands coming to undo your your bra and sliding it off your shoulders, pulling you towards him once again, hand trailing over one of your nipples.Your hands came to his hair again, occasionally stroking his ears making him groan. His warm mouth wrapped around the other as his hand fondled with the other, you already becoming weak at his touches. Yoongi moved you off his lap, your back pressing against the couch, looking up at him with big eyes.
“Let me treat you princess. After all, you were so kind to me yesterday,” Yoongi spread your legs, situating himself between your legs, kissing up along your thighs softly, gently. His larger hands came to unzip your shorts, pulling them down your legs. He smirked when he saw the wet patch on your underwear, almost chuckling to himself.
“I made you this wet already? We haven’t even started yet, princess.” The nickname sent shivers down your spine, somehow his voice dropped even lower when he had said it. Yoongi’s slender fingers brushed the waistband of your panties before his mouth was trailing kisses across your lower stomach. Yoongi pressed his thumb just above your clit over your panties, making you groan - he was so close to your bundle of nerves yet so far away at the same time.
He smirked to himself, slowly inching his thumb lower and rubbing your clit in small figure eights, his eyes consuming the way you held in a breath, tossing your head back at the delicious rush of pleasure running through your veins, the way your back arched just slightly off the couch. Yoongi loved it. He wanted more.
Yoongi widthrew his thumb from your clit, moving himself to a better position, one where his face was directly in front of your heat. Yoongi moved your wet panties to the side, unveiling your slick walls. Yoongi looked up at you, smirking and moving forward, his pink tongue sticking out as he licked your throbbing nub, never tearing his eyes away from yours. That alone had you going crazy. The fact he looked so innocent while doing a not so innocent action was driving you nuts.
Yoongi groaned at how you tasted. It was divine to him. His finger came to hook into your panties, pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Grabbing your thighs, he moved you closer to his mouth, wrapping his soft, pink lips around your clit - he alternated from sucking to flicking his tongue over the small nub, your small whimpers telling him to keep going.
His tongue did one final flick to your clit before he flattened it out, licking up your folds, gathering your juices on his tongue and moaning into your pussy.
“Fuck I should have eaten you out sooner, you’re so sweet.” Yoongi bought his fingers to your folds, spreading them apart for himself.
“So pink, so wet,” he muttered, keeping your pussy spread for him, his tongue coming to run up your pink folds.
“F-Fuck Yoongi,” you moaned, hands coming to grip at the corners of the couch tightly.
Yoongi’s middle finger circled your clit gently before slipping inside you easily, making your back arched off the couch. Yoongi smirked to himself, proud by the fact he didn’t have to do much to have you under his charm. Yoongi took his time, letting his finger be swallowed by your wet walls before pulling it out and repeating the action, slowly.
It wasn’t soon until his index finger joined, fastening his pace by a little - Yoongi placed kisses to your thighs as he did so, only to move his head away and pull out his fingers from you, raising them up and spreading his fingers so your juices were clearly evident, placing his fingers to his lips afterwards and keeping his eyes on you.
“So very sweet, taste yourself for me.” His finger dipped into you again, pulling it out and raising it to your lips this time. You opened your mouth, enveloping his finger in your mouth, humming around it. Yoongi’s mind was invaded by the thought of you last night, on your knees, mouth wrapped around his length with eyes filled with lust.
Yoongi withdrew his fingers his fingers from your mouth upsettingly. Instead he dipped between your legs, fingers pressing into you again whilst his mouth wrapped around your clit, his tongue massaging the throbbing bud sometimes gently, sometimes roughly, the contrast making you lose your breath.
His fingers curled themselves up, pressing against your g-spot which had you reach down to grip Yoongi’s hair. Yoongi groaned into your mound, feel good vibrations going through your body - his fingers kept hitting the same spot over and over again. That made your walls clench down on his hand while you tossed your head back, mouth ajar and eyes shut tightly.
Yoongi was mesmerised at how good you looked at that moment, a moaning mess above him. You rocked your hips against the ministrations of his fingers and mouth, desperate to reach your peak that was blooming closer and closer.
“You gonna come princess? C’mon baby, let me taste you,” That’s all it took for the coil in your stomach to break, your orgasm flowing throughout your entire body. You tossed your head back, mouth opening wider as a mantra of Yoongi’s name along with incoherent curses left your lips. Yoongi’s mouth didn’t pull away from your pussy, he helped you ride it out, his wet muscle lapping up everything he was able to get until you weakly whined and pushed his head away.
Yoongi sat back on his knees, his tongue that was buried in your legs before coming out to lick up around his mouth before he presses his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself that lingered on Yoongi’s lips.
“Don’t get too relaxed princess, you’re in for a long day,” Yoongi looked at you innocently, his ears falling down a little to give off the innocent appeal. You knew he was far from innocent though