#⭒˳꣑୧ ۠ ⭒

[dvixen]

SMUT fem!reader cowgirl

morning lazy sex with him is just so… mellow. “that’s it, baby… nice and slow. in and out, yeah?” his palms rest on your waist and gently guide you down, pulling you even lower on his cock. you moan softly, scratching his bare chest with your nails as your walls squeeze him inside more and more. “pretty,” he murmurs; his fingertips massaging your waist as he smiles softly, “so pretty and all for me, huh?” with one hand he takes your palm and gently kisses your knuckles, feeling the way you squeeze inside even more. morning sex with him is your favourite thing ever.

BRUCE jason JING YUAN RENO tartaglia & ur favs

[kissenturine]

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀 boothill x m!reader — 3.3k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: mechanic!reader, sub!reader, reader gives boothill a dick, reader takes away his censorship, mean dom!boothill, maybe ooc!boothill, fingering, heavy heavy dirty talk, boothill calls reader a whore & slut, boothill steps on reader's dick, blowjobs (boothill receiving), degradation. lmk if i missed anything!!

KAI SAYS: boy am i down bad for this little space cowboy

As a hardworking mechanic, you often pride yourself on your accomplishments. You—like any decent one—had many. From what you worked with to what you managed to fix, there were many things that could be considered impressive to a crowd.

None of them, however, were as impressive as the time you managed to remove Boothill’s censorship and give him back what he called: “a missing piece of his heart.”

Your dimly lit mechanic shop is cluttered with tools amongst other sharp things. Scattered about every flat surface usable is a screw, nail, wire, metal board—anything you could make use of. In the centre of the workshop is the only real space you kept clean.

Sitting in the middle of the room is a large, metallic workbench. It’s impressive, to say the least. Hooked up to an uncountable number of wires, switches and knobs decorating the sides, tools hanging from hooks, everything about it is a sight to behold.

What’s more impressive—even more magnificent—is the man sitting on top of it.

With his legs sprawled out and his head idly lolling from side to side, Boothill himself is a man to bless the eyes. The way his body worked, how each wire and sensor inside his cyborg body worked in tandem with each other to create the masterpiece that was him.

Of course, you only think like that because you’re a mechanic. You know how hard it is to put together a synesthetic body part, let alone a whole human being.

To people who don’t know the complexities of machinery, they might just think he’s a handsome cyborg. And really, they weren’t wrong. Whoever created his body, whether it was Boothill himself or another person, was quite the artist with the way they’d managed to create Boothill as a cyborg and still leave in his human charm.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Boothill grumbles, pulling you very quickly out of your thoughts. “Ya gonna continue starin’ or ya gonna actually help a guy out?” He waved at the dent in his hip, a noticeable cave to the metal plate.

“Yes, yes.” You huff. While you did find the cyborg part of Boothill impressive, his personality… not so much. He was endearing at times, but mostly he could be a pain in the ass.

A lot of the time, he’d get himself scratched and broken just to come back to you only when he’s on the brink of shutting down. Or, he’d either only come to you with the smallest, most irrelevant and easy-to-fix problems known to man.

His current state being the latter.

You make your way carefully over to Boothill, dropping to your knees beside the workbench to inspect the minimal damage done to his hip. “It’s… not even that bad.” You murmur, eyes darting up to his. “You could probably play it off as a hip dip or something.”

“Nope!” Boothill grunts, moving his metallic hand to tap against the metal of his hip. “Not happenin’ cutie. Need this body o’ mine to be in tip-top condition for my next bounty.” He grins widely, stretching his legs in front of him as he rests his arms back behind his head.

You only roll your eyes in response, already pulling out your screwdriver to replace Boothill’s so-called “broken” hip. “Whatever you say then…” You grumble, working away at the screws on the plate.

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” Boothill hums, absentmindedly picking at the metal of his shoulder.

You wince at the nickname, your eyes shifting from where you’re working to Boothill’s face. “What’s with the nicknames…?” You say, voicing your curiosity. “We’ve known each other for what, six months now?” You raise an eyebrow at him before you continue. “Six months, and we're not even dating yet you always seem to use some form of a nickname.”

“Well,” Boothill hums, “the guy that made this good ol’ body of mine decided I would benefit from losing a thing or two. Those bein’ my ability to swear and of course my clock.”

“Your… clock?” You give him a confused look as you screw the metal back into place, finishing off his new hip.

“No, no, cutie, not an actual clock.” Boothill rolls his eyes. “My, uh, manhood, ya know?”

“Your…” You trail off. “Oh.”

He grins at you, opening his legs widely on the table. “Look if ya want, I got nothin’ to hide down there.” He gives you a wink before leaning further into your workbench.

You glance down at his crotch and see that it is, indeed, very flat. I guess what he said is true then…

You’re about to pick up your tools when you hear Boothill call for you, his name dropping from his lips. “Hey, uh, you don’t happen to have any o’ those synesthetic clocks, do ya?”

You give Boothill a blank look. While you did have a few lying around, as per a customer who was willing to pay a hefty price of seven million credits for one, you didn’t think Boothill would want one.

“Yeah…” You eventually respond. “I do.”

Boothill’s eyes widen as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes. “Oh, mother fudgin’!” He says before eagerly jumping off the workbench. “Please,” he begs, “ya gotta hook me up with one! Haven’t felt it in so long, ‘s like a piece of my heart’s been missing!”

You cringe at his choice of terminology before looking up at the pleading man. “Well, they cost a hefty price—”

“I’m willin’ t’pay!” Boothill cries, the same pleading tone still present in his voice. “Please, anythin’ for my clock back!”

“I—y’know what, fine.” You grumble, not having the energy to think up an argument. You wave your hand at your workbench. “Sit on the edge while I grab one. I’m just gonna assume you want the biggest size.”

You hear the faint rumble of Boothills laugh. “Oh, darlin’ you know me so well!”

You roll your eyes, pulling out a key to unlock a drawer where you kept your synesthetic… manhoods. You eye them all, cautiously taking one on the very left end before closing the drawer and going back up to Boothill.

“So.” You say, holding the synesthetic member awkwardly in front of Boothill. “Eight inches, pretty thick, the colour an’ design of the metal goes pretty well with your cyborg parts, I think it matches you.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Boothill grins, his sharp teeth shining under the light. “Now that's what I’m talking about. Can’t wait to have my fudgin’ shift back.”

You roll your eyes at the censorship before tapping Boothill’s knee. “Spread your legs, gotta get to you if you want me to actually put this on.”

Boothill gives you a teasing look and you already know what he’s about to comment on. “If you wanted to see my new duck in action, ya could’ve jus’ asked.” He grins and you roll your eyes again. Just what you predicted.

“Shut up and spread your legs.” You say, a harsh tone evident in your voice. This time Boothill complies, his knees spreading as you once again take your place, kneeling on the floor—this time between his legs.

Slowly, you unscrew the metal panel on Boohill’s crotch area.

Once it’s fully out, you take a peek into the hole you just opened, trying to grasp what you’re working with. You puff out your cheeks, sighing as you peer into the hole between Boothill’s legs.

There’s an assortment of jumbled wires, a few switches, and—is that a remote control? With two fingers, you manage to pry your way into the cavity in Boothill’s crotch. Lithly and carefully, you pull the remote from the little clasp it was stuck in before sliding it out.

You inspect it cautiosly, taking note of how there’s only one singular switch on the flat of it. You contemplate flipping it, but then it crosses your mind that touching random things that came from inside Boothill’s body wasn’t the best idea.

Setting the remote to the side for later, you continue your work with Boothill’s new member.

Carefully, very, very carefully, you attach each wire to the base of Boothill’s new appendage, making sure everything is kept neat and tidy. With a quick glance up at Boothill, you can instantly tell he’s at least somewhat relaxed.

“Boothill.” You call, tapping the inside of his metal thigh. “I’m gonna connect the synesthesia now, so you might get a bit…” You cough awkwardly. “Aroused… But just ignore it and try not to like—y’know, cum all over my face.”

Boothill grins down at you, once again flashing you his sharp teeth. “Don’t worry, pretty boy, I’ve got some self-control.”

You nod your head, cautiously pushing the two wires together. The instant you twist them into place, you hear Boothill let out a loud groan. “Fudge, I missed this.” He murmurs, his dick twitching to life right in front of your face.

The sight, being able to watch as the new tip of his metal cock twitches and lifts, sends a shiver down your spine—one you chose to ignore as much as possible. Your hands go back to his shaft, gently pressing a screw in and Boothill lets out a loud hiss, his dick twitching in your hand.

“Darlin’ you’re teasin’ me.” He grunts before peering down at you through half-lidded eyes.

You don’t say anything, making sure to work carefully at his dick, making sure everything is functioning. As you trail your hand along the underside of his shaft, Boothill’s thigh twitches, pushing against your head and forcing your face closer to his cock.

You let out a squeal of surprise, eyes darting up to Boothill, whose face is flushed a warm pink with his teeth pulled between his lips. “Didn’t know this would affect you this much.” You murmur, a playful edge in your voice. You hate to admit it, but you’re already half-hard from being so close to Boothill and working on him in such an… intimate way.

“Shut it, darling.’” The cyborg grunts, and you laugh at the way his hands curl into fists beside him. “Haven’t felt like this in a while.”

“I can tell.” You hum, tapping his tip a few times and smirking at the loud groan that leaves his lips.

“Fudging—” Boothill grunts, his hand grabbing tightly at your shoulder as you stand up. “Such a fudgin’ tease, aren’t ya, sweetie?”

“Dunno what you're talking about Boothill.” You say, feigning innocence. Sitting up from your kneeling position you grab the remote. “Any idea what this is?” You question, showing it to Boothill.

He eyes it carefully before shrugging. “Nah, got no clue.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” You huff. “Cause I found it inside you.”

Boothill gapes at you, his jaw going slack. “Inside me!?” He roars. “And you just—just took it out!? What if I need that to live?!”

“Relax, cowboy,” you groan, his loud voice getting on your nerves slightly, “it wasn’t connected to anything, and you seem pretty fine now.”

Boothill glares at you seemingly having forgotten about his rock-hard erection standing tall against his metal abs. “Give it here.” He says, making a ‘give’ motion with his fingers. He practically snatches it from your hand the instant you’re within arm's reach, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer as he grabs at the remote. “Hmm…” He hums, inspecting it in his hands. Slowly, he slides the panel down, revealing two short words that make the two of you gasp.

“Censorship… Control.” Boothill reads, and you instantly snatch the remote into your hands.

“Hey!” Boothill yells! “Wait a darn minute—I need that!”

“No,” you respond flatly, “you don’t. Whoever built in that censorship must’ve done it for a reason—”

“Yeah!” Boothill grunts. “To annoy the fudge outa me!” He growls again, desperately trying to reach for the remote again. “Oh, fudgin’ give it! What’ll it take for you to give me the darn thing?!”

You grin.

Finally, he asked.

“I think a good enough payment would be to test out this new dick of yours.”

Boothill’s expression turns from anger and annoyance to a smirk in the blink of an eye. His hands are no longer grabbing at the remote, and instead resting on your waist. “Oh?” He coos. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.” He smirks, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “But a test drive would be so much more fun if I had my swearin’ back. Think of all the dirty lil’ things I could say to you, hm?”

Your face flushes as you feel Boothill’s cool breath fan over your ear. “I bet you'd really like if I turned it off, be able to swear to your heart’s content” You do your best to stand your ground, ignoring the blood that rushes to your cock and the way your pants grow tight. “But I think I can think of a better way to put your mouth to use.”

Boothill growls lowly, his grip moving from your waist to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze. “Turn it off and I might just show you what this mouth of mine is capable of.”

“Hmph.” You grunt. “Fine. Let's see how dirty this mouth of yours can get, Boothill." You whisper, your warm breath fanning over his chest. With that, you’re flicking his censorship off, once again leaving Boothill free to say whatever he wants.

“Atta boy.” He growls.

Boothill’s eyes narrow as you flick the remote, effectively ending his censorship. Your face flushes, watching his lips pull into a wide grin as he grips your ass, tugging down your pants and leaving them dropped at your ankles. “Don’t worry whore, I’ll show you just how good I am.” Boothill growls, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll have you screaming my name while you’re wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You don’t say anything, only moving to press your face further into his neck.

“I’ll tell you every dirty word, every filthy thought that crosses my mind while I pound into your tight fuckin’ hole.” Boothill groans, starting to tug down your boxers too.

And suddenly, like he only now could process the extent that he could speak, Boothill is tugging you away from him only to press his lips harshly into you, murmuring into the kiss as he does. “You little slut, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re stuffed fuckin’ full of my dick. You’ll be drenched in your own cum, worshiping my cock, begging for more.” He lets out a loud groan, pulling away. “And don’t think you can fuckin’ hide, ‘cause I’ll take you right here an’ now, on your stupid workbench.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, watching the sight of your absolute arousal dripping down your dick.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ hard.” He wraps his palm around your cock, giving it a sharp tug before pulling his hand away only to return with a sharp slap against your tip. “Bet you’d pull your pants down for anyone on the street, like a common whore.”

You whine, knees buckling at the slap. You collapse onto Boothill’s chest, letting out a plethora of pathetic sounds as you do.

“Aww.” Boothill coos, lifting your chin to face him. “This weak already?”

He grips your body, getting off your workbench only to lay you on top of it. You lay flat on your tummy, with you face pressed into the thin padding of the workbench.

“You’re gonna be a good boy now, an’ take what I give you, ‘kay?” Boothil says, bending your knees to push your ass into the air. His finger teases your puckered hole, tracing your rim, but never pushing anything in,

“Boothill.” You whine. “Put it in already!”

“What’d I say?” Boothill growls, bringing down a hand against your ass in a harsh spank. “That you’re gonna take what?”

“T-Take what you give me!” You whine, pressing your face into the cushion in embarrassment.

You can’t believe what’s currently happening. Here you are, face down and your ass in the air as Boothill eases a finger into your tight hole, occasionally giving mean spanks against your balls and ass.

Eventually, Boothill presses his first finger in. The feeling makes you gasp out, your back arching against the workbench. His fingers are so thick. You whine out, instinctively rocking your hips against his fingers.

“That’s it.” Boothill praises, bringing a hand to rub your back gently. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, like a good lil’ slut.” He presses in another finger, beginning to match the pace of your hips as he curls them.

He thrusts them in and out, and in and out until you’re seeing stars. Your eyes are rolled back, drool slipping from your lips as you moan and writhe against Boothill’s hand. He curls his fingers, easily finding your prostate and laughing cruelly when your dick twitches.

“Fuck, you’re so easy.” He moans, watching you fuck against his fingers. Slowly, he grabs his new metal dick, dragging the cool tip across the crack of your ass. You whine, your eyes squeezing shut at the cold sensation.

“Boothill!” You moan out. “D-Don’t stop, I—I’m so close!”

“Oh?” He questions. “And who told you that you had any right to tell me what to do?”

Just like that, he’s pulling his fingers away from you. You’re a whining, crying mess at that. Sobbing about how you needed his fingers, his dick, his anything to make you come. “Please!” You beg. “Need t’cum so badly!”

“Really?” Boothill smirks. “If that’s really what you want…” He tugs you off the workbench, watching you fall to the floor into a pathetic heap. “Then beg me for it.”

You nod eagerly, instantly getting on your knees and kissing against Boothill’s hard cock. The rough concrete of the floor is painful against your bare knees, but you can make due.

You’re quick to take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool metal before pressing your lips slightly lower. Your tongue presses down, forced to drag along his underside the more you take him in.

You blink up at Boothill, tears welling in your eyes as you plead with him to help you. Help you. Use you. It didn’t matter.

Boothill lets out a tsk before grabbing your hair harshly. “What happened to my smart mechanic I knew so well? When’d he get replaced by this cock-hungry bitch who can’t even suck dick to save his life?”

At that, Boothill’s pressing your face all the way down. Your nose pokes at the cold metal of his pelvis before he’s pulling you back and thrusting his dick deep down your throat. He sets a quick pace, fucking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a fleshlight for him to use and throw away at his disposal.

Your jaw hangs slack, tongue forcefully dragging along the metal of his cock. Drool slips from your lips but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your mouth is being stuffed so full. Boothill’s pace quickens and you moan weakly around his cock, feeling something poke at your own.

From what you manage to see through the corner of your eye, Boothill is stepping on your dick, rubbing the sole of his dirty shoe against your tip as it leaks precum all over the rough concrete. The feeling of his shoe on your dick, his cock stuffing your mouth—it’s all enough to send you over the edge.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your cock twitching pathetically under Boothill’s shoe as you shoot ropes of cum from your tip. Some of it sticks to the bottom of his shoe, and some squirts farther. Boothill laughs, rubbing his shoe harder into your dick, watching you whine around his cock.

“C’mon slut, you can take it. This is the payment you wanted, so don’t go crying on me now.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[mygnolia]

JUST ANOTHER LOVE SONG ୨୧ l. heeseung

୨୧ -› he's your high school sweetheart; something that was meant to be, written in the stars.

pair -› (student body) secretary!heeseung x vice pres! reader | wc -› 1k | cw -› just lots of kisses! | for @jlheon 's entopia event!! proud of u for 1k!

highschool is for growth, youth, and naivety. but highschool is where you meet lee heeseung, which makes all those other factors insignificant. 

highschool relationships aren’t easy; if everything in your lives is tumultuous and ever changing, how can you expect your love with lee heeseung to stay the same? it’s like a field of flowers- and as much as you wished its beauty to be forever, it wilts, and sprouts with the seasons. 

and things are never perfect, but you two make it work, through the good and bad, and that’s what makes it worth fighting for. and you love heeseung, enveloping him in all of those ‘disgusting, couply’ feelings that make life more memorable. 

you bump into student body secretary heeseung one time in the hallway, and he helps you carry one of the many bags you had prepared for decorations headed to the student body classroom. it’s tidy, as your president and friend jungwon likes the classroom to be, with one of your favorite kind-hearted teachers looking over your meetings every week. 

and you’ve known of lee heeseung. you’ve heard his singing as you pack up after long and tedious days full of planning. you’ve done student body bondings with him not quite by your side- but with you nonetheless. but this is the first time you’ve seen him in a more romantic light- and you like it more than you expect. 

as heeseung still carries your bags, you tell him about how stressful planning winter formal is, considering how the venue was secured with immense luck. usually, in october, there’s nothing left for schools who procrastinate, but your principal didn’t make it easy to be proactive in the first place. 

your love blossoms here, where he opens the door for you and laughs at your little jokes- where lee heeseung is in his element with park jongseong as treasurer and jungwon helping you all. it blossoms easily, when you two snicker in the back of the classroom and poke lighthearted fun at jay when he talks about his emails and responses. it’s fleeting- almost impossible to catch, but there’s a shift in the air after he really meets you. he helps you plan a bit more after hearing your struggles, and you make neat folders for his documents and reach out about government in hopes of starting conversations, even if it was about school. you two sit near each other, buy food for each other after stressful finals, and to be honest, it all goes by fast. it’s scary to know you’ve developed solid feelings by his birthday where you write him a sweet note with a meaningful gift, or by winter when you kiss him for the first time. 

your love is young, and full of recklessness- but you two work through all the problems that comes with being so hopelessly in love in a time like highschool. 

and within moments where you cry to him on the phone, or times where either of you mess up and have to apologize, there are moments that make your heart swell, too. like, when he tells you he loves you for the first time as perhaps a slip of the tongue, apologizing. “i always say it to my mom before i hang up.” he explains, picking at his nails from nervousness as he waits for your response on the other line. “but it’s not like i don’t mean it.” 

and you giggle before repeating the words, stuffing your face into your pillow before you hang up and dream of heeseung. 

or, that time where he blasted a song from his car and sang along to the lyrics as he asked you out for prom, his trunk propped open with flowers, and a huge smile on his face. and heeseung’s not afraid to love you in public, in a way that displays his grad gestures without the privacy of your intimacy behind closed doors. 

and you think about it; the kisses you two share when impossibly close, with lovesick grins and warm, sweaty palms as heeseung would reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear and scrunch your shirt in his other hand to pull you close. and you are assured by him that you are loved with how he looks at you, with his gentle gazes and warm embraces that calm your bubbling feelings. 

it is in the quiet moments where you two are most vulnerable. where you cry and tell him he’s hurt you (seldomly!), or when he kisses your temple and whispers his words of affirmation. 

even still, even three years later when your friends marvel at how your relationship still holds true despite the distance and longing, you’re at a loss of words as to how to explain it. heeseung loves and loves, like he was born to reassure your worries and comb his fingers through your hair. how do you explain a feeling so invigorating yet serene at the same time? and your friends tell you that heeseung would do anything for you, and they tell you he would turn back an entire train just to hold your face in his hands and seal your lips with his just once more before the end of the day. 

and your love with him continues to grow and change over time. like how flowers leave all of their fate to the sun and storm, you two try not to overthink the little things and let your relation run its path. and it’s been three years from highschool ever since junior year when you two got together, so you’re not the same snickering duo in the back of your classroom. but sometimes, heeseung presses a searing kiss to your lips after having not seen you for a while, and it makes you feel the very same as you did those days in october, hands intertwined under the desks with looks of longing. 

and with how easy it is to talk about how heeseung loves you wholly, you think, you could write one, or maybe even two lovesongs about him. 

REN SAYS... this was a little messy but full of love nonetheless. i heart lee heeseung

© all rights are reserved to mygnolia 2024. republished, translated, and/or heavily referenced work will be reported and removed immediately.

[forlovvers]

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ten thirty six

pair: fling!sunghoon x gn!reader | genre: fluff ? angst ? | warning(s): kissing | wc: 600 | synopsis: in which you accidentally fall for your fling.

lynne’s notez🗒️: he’s a ten but he’s a man😞 for @jlheon ’s 1k event !! this was so hard to write idk why >< but hopefully i did bea and this event justice

“no strings attached,” that was the agreement when you first met sunghoon. but you find yourself in his room, your shirts in his drawers, your shampoo in his hair, your hands in his. flings are such a weird thing, especially when you know it’s not permanent. you know eventually he’ll leave your dreams and escape to the world stage where he wants to be. 

“you okay?” sunghoon stands in front of you, with dripping wet hair and a towel around his neck. his words are slightly disoriented due to the toothbrush held in his mouth. “you spaced out for a couple minutes.” his expression forms into concern as he steps closer to you. you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and your strawberry conditioner mixing together. 

“stop using my conditioner, i keep having to buy more.” you say, ignoring his previous comment and standing up to reach up and place your arms around his neck. 

“but it smells like you,” he smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips, only to leave toothpaste residue on your lips. 

“hoon!” you back up, wiping it off with the back of your hand. sunghoon lets out a laugh as he disappears back into the bathroom. 

you hear the sink start running again and sunghoon spitting out the last of the toothpaste. “we’re going out to eat tomorrow at that new thai place. wanna come with us?” sunghoon reappears from the bathroom and leans against the doorframe, studying your expression. he watches as you lift the sheets and vanish under them. 

“i don’t know, i always feel like i’m intruding or something.” you say, sitting up to get a better look at him. you always loved him like this—barefaced, messy hair and yours for the night. 

“you’re not. my friends like you, you know?” sunghoon slides into bed next to you, his head resting on your shoulder. “maybe even too much. just need you all to myself.” he turns to place frenzied kisses on your lips then your cheeks, and trailing down to your neck. you let out a giggle when his breath feels ticklish on your neck, and you can feel him smile against your skin. 

you find it scary how easy it is to fall into routine with sunghoon. how scary it is to be so accustomed to waking up next to him and having him on your arm, and being with him.  

“angel?” the nickname still makes your heart soar. “are you okay? you seem worried about something.” there’s more concern evident in his tone.

“i just—” you hesitate to continue and when you do, sunghoon’s hand finds yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. “isn’t your tour coming up soon?”

his brows crease in confusion. “yeah it is. is something wrong with that?”

“i just don’t know if we should continue this if you’re gonna be away for so long.” when the words finally leave your lips, you can feel his gaze heavily lingering on you. 

“oh. i guess that is a problem.” sunghoon gulps unsurely and his grip on your hand loosens. it’s silent for a couple seconds before he speaks again. “maybe we should sleep on it, and talk again in the morning?”

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you nod in agreement. he wraps his arms around you and brings you under the covers, making sure you get plenty of blanket. once the lights are off, he presses a small kiss to your forehead. “let’s just enjoy this for now.” 

[junislqve]

dont forget to kiss me ✶ heeseung

𝓢. heeseung has never been more in love with anyone else.

pairs heeseung x reader content kissing shy heeseung and reader ig not proofread wordcount 326 CATALOGUE

hai um no im not back this is for baefy @jlheon ‘s event 😇💗 (loosely) based off glue song.

REBLOG if you enjoy!

“you’re so pretty”

you look up from your messy notes and textbooks to see your boyfriend gazing at you. his chin propped up by the palm of his hand.

“yeah?” you ask, your creased complexion from all the studying softening at the sight.

it was somewhere during the late afternoons, the sun was hitting heeseung’s face in all the right angles. his soft smile further amplified by the way you were admiring him.

“mhmm” he hums, “so gorgeous”

you try to gain back your focus in studying, albeit your pounding heart and rose-tinted ears said otherwise.

you hear a small shuffling from beside you and slowly swtich your gaze back to your boyfriend who had his hand now outstretched, reaching out to you.

“you have a leaf on your head” he mumbles, grabbing it and throwing it out of your line of vision.

you can’t tell if you managed out an ‘oh’ too entirely encapsulated by the way he was looking down at you. his eyes spoke volumes to you way more than words can, his gaze overflowed with love and fondness.

you barely registered it when he slowly reach down to cup your jaw, barely registered it when his face inched closer, barely felt his warm breath hover over your lips.

you can feel the way his soft lips move over yours, his hand shifting your head as his other snaked around to rest on the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss.

the way he kissed you so passionately made you dizzy, paired with the feel of his firm grip.

you pull away a moment later to catch your breath, heeseungs hand slipping away from your neck and jaw leaving your skin awake with the ghost of his touch.

before you get to recollect your thoughts, you get to see heeseung’s flushed face and shy grin before he walks away, the tips of his ear a deep shade of burgundy.

“see you friday, pretty”

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[japnz]

ㅤㅤ ⠀ ⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏͏

ㅤ ͏ ͏ ㅤ ⠀ㅤ⠀𝄞ㅤㅤಣㅤㅤᢁㅤㅤ𖹭

ㅤㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀𓆉ㅤㅤㅤ҉ ㅤㅤ𓇻ㅤㅤⳊ

⠀⠀⠀ ͏⠀⠀⠀⠀𖣁ㅤㅤ‿ㅤㅤ𔓐ㅤㅤ✢

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ⠀

[okwonyo]

PRETTY U — a lee heeseung social media au

précis ୨ৎ there is a lot of things heeseung knows about is brother; he is not as cool as he is, he talks in his sleep, he is annoying but most importantly— he has a very pretty best-friend, who always comes to visit him during spring break.

or in which — heeseung spends his whole spring break trying to get with the girl he is in love with since elementary school.

staring › lee heeseung + female reader

co-ed › face claim as wested_arin, jay, jake & sunghoon (enhypen), hyeju (lossemble), sunwoo (the boyz), gaeul (ive).

genre › social media, brother’s best friend! reader, best friend’s brother! heeseung, childhood crush, one year older reader, he fell first, chasing, loser boyfriend, humorous, fluff and tiny angst.

taglist › open — send an ask or dm to be added

update : regular ｜status : upcoming

SOUNDTRACK

🔓 lOOsers (jungkook’s version) & snsd cult’s founders

one. is That supposed to be my problem? two. he’s such a Loser woah ... ( written ) three. no i do Not . Lols four. Please come save me five. can’t let gang know i fw tis six. its 3am dpmo lil boy

© okwonyo , 2O24

[munequitta]

⠀୨⠀⠀hollywood⠀⠀and⠀⠀me⠀⠀@fairytopea⠀⠀୧

[sunrenity]

apple cider ✶ nrk

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ you realize you both love each other.

nishimura rikiㅤ✶ㅤfemale reader  .  g  fluff, best friends to lovers, best friend! riki  .  wc  568 (0.5k)  .  bookshelf

for @jlheon 's 1k event <3

THE LANGUID SUMMER SUN oozed through the leafy canopy of the oak tree under which you and riki lounged, a collection of half-empty apple cider juice boxes scattered around you, their cheerful straws poking out like tiny, vibrant flags. the laughter that had been bubbling around you all afternoon faded into a gentle hum, a quietude settling as the golden hour painted everything in warm hues.

you watched him out of the corner of your eye, the way the light caught in his dark hair, how his laughter lines deepened when he smiled. he was saying something, but you found yourself lost in the sound of his voice, the rise and fall of his words blending with the rustle of leaves and distant chirping of crickets.

"are you even listening?" riki teased, nudging you with his elbow, a playful smirk on his lips as he sipped from a juice box.

you blinked, the spell broken, and turned to meet his eyes. they were a deep brown, flecked with gold, warm and inviting. you felt a strange flutter in your chest, a sensation that had been growing more insistent lately, impossible to ignore any longer.

"sorry, what did you say?" you asked, trying to shake off the daze.

he laughed, the sound rich and familiar, a melody you knew by heart. "i was saying we should probably head back soon. it's getting late."

you nodded, though you made no move to get up. instead, you reached over and took the juice box from his hand, the cold condensation cool against your skin. he raised an eyebrow in mock offense but let you take it, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment. the crisp, sweet taste of apple cider filled your mouth, refreshing and nostalgic all at once.

"riki," you began, your voice barely more than a whisper, "do you ever think about... us?"

he tilted his head, curiosity lighting up his eyes. "us? what do you mean?"

you took a deep breath, the words trembling on your lips. "i mean, do you ever think about us... being more than friends?"

for a moment, there was silence, the world holding its breath. then, his hand found yours, fingers intertwining with a gentle certainty. the touch was warm, grounding, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

"yeah," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, reassuring circles. "i think about it all the time."

the confession hung between you, a fragile, beautiful thing. you felt your heart swell, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the cider. you leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. the scent of his cologne mixed with the sweet aroma of apples, creating a heady, intoxicating blend.

in that moment, under the oak tree with the sun setting behind you, everything seemed to fall into place. the future was uncertain, but as long as you had riki by your side, you knew you could face anything.

and so, with the taste of apple cider on your lips and the promise of something new in the air, you closed your eyes and let yourself simply be. the last rays of the sun caressed your skin, and the world seemed to hold you both in a gentle embrace, whispering promises of the countless moments yet to come.

© sunrenity , don't plagiarize, steal or repost my work on any platform !

network, @enchive

[khaer]

ㅤ:¨ ·.· ¨: ㅤㅤೀㅤㅤ ̩͙ㅤ ۫ ㅤㅤ𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌ㅤ𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇ㅤ𝗍𝗁𝖾ㅤ𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ㅤ 𝗈𝖿ㅤ𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆ㅤ𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋ㅤㅤ໑ৎ ׁ  ׅㅤ♡

[yoonsicles]

⠀ ━╋ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏𝓈tairs ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏to ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ the ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏seventh 　 ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ۫　　 ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ׅ⠀ㅤ ͏ ͏⠀▒ㅤ ᭨ ᬄ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏── ⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏˓ ⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏𝔯𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏up ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ to ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏heaven.

[dvixen]

SMUT fem!reader reader in lingerie praise

his favorite thing to do was buy you lingerie and see you in it, knowing he bought it for you. and then just ripping it on you because you’re unfairly beautiful. “so pretty,” he mumbles, pushing deeper and pressing your head into the pillow. his fingers caress the lace, “and so tight... right, honey?” you mumble something in response and feel your brains melt as he quickens the pace just enough for a couple thrusts and praise to make you cum. “that’s it,” he almost hisses, leaning in close to your ear, “good job, beautiful.”

BRUCE pantalone AVENTURINE TARTAGLIA RUFUS leon SYLUS

[kissenturine]

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 tartaglia x m!reader — 3.8k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: amab reader, reader is a dom at first then switches halfway through, reader is mentioned to be wearing lingerie, light feminization (childe says pussy once), use of good boy amongst other pet names, light degradation, praise (for both reader and childe), childe sucks reader's dick, childe also eats reader's ass, cockwarming (childe can't take it LMAO), no aftercare written but it is given, childe licks ur fingers to clean them, mating press, dirty talk. lmk if i missed any!

KAI SAYS: almost 4k words of pure smut haha but like omg i wrote this so late at night with my tip so pls spare me AND!!! this is my return post so...

Tartaglia knows you’re doing it on purpose now, because how can you not be? He whimpers, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink as he feels you clench around him. “Baby, please.” He whines out, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I-I can’t—baby, it’s been thirty minutes.” Thirty minutes he’d been buried to the hilt in you; his dick hard and twitching as it stuffes you full.

Tartaglia whines. He could faintly hear the sound of you taking a deep breath, but that’s not what he was focusing on. No, he was focusing more on the way you squeeze him as you inhale. It was on purpose, he knew you couldn’t just be faking this.

With a deep breath, doing his best to steel his nerves, Tartaglia pressed his thumbs into the joysticks of his console again. “I…” He murmurs softly into the skin of your neck. “I don’ think I can beat this level.”

“No.” You coo in that sickeningly sweet voice of yours. “You can.”

Tartaglia nods his head, your encouragement helping lift his mood somewhat. But, true to his word, he dies yet again. Tartaglia lets out a pathetic whine when he’s greeted with the ‘You Died!’ Screen for the nth time tonight. This bet was made specifically with his torture in mind. You knew he would never beat this level, so to “motivate” him, as you put it, you would sit nice and still on his sensitive cock until he beat it.

“Can’t you move just a little, please.” Tartaglia begs, his dignity long gone. You’re evil for this, he thinks, but all of that is lost when you shift your hips slightly, his mind going blank at just the smallest friction.

He feels his tip bump your prostate, and Tartaglia knows he’s hit it when you moan out, your mouth right by his ear as his fingers press harshly against the buttons of his game console. “P-please!” He whines again. “I-I need you t’move, just a little, just a little, please.”

“Maybe, if you last another thirty minutes, I’ll consider it.” You hum, and Archons Tartaglia thinks he's losing his mind with the way your breath trickles over his ear. “But, if you make it through the level…” Your voice trails off, but Tartaglia knows what you meant.

If he makes it through the level, Tartaglia could finally fuck you. Push you against the bed, wipe that stupid smirk off your face, maybe make you sit on his face until you cry. The options, at least to him, are endless.

You trail your hand over the neck of his shirt, and Tartaglia’s eyes dart from the screen to you. You, all dressed up in your white lace panties and thigh highs, with your chest arched against his chest and here he was, still fully clothed.

Well, only thanks to you.

You, like the cruel man you are, wouldn’t let Tartaglia strip. You’d forced him to watch as you changed, stripping off your pyjamas and slipping on the lace lingerie while he sat there, half sure he was drooling. And then you’d gone and pressed him to the edge of the bed, forcing him to sit as you pulled out his leaking dick, not even bothering to pull his sweats all the way down. Then you sat your pretty hole on his dick, and Tartaglia couldn’t pull his eyes away from the way your ass practically swallowed him whole.

And then, began this whole ordeal of pure torture.

You’re sat on his lap, facing Tartaglia as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks over your body and behind you to the console gripped tightly in his hands.

Tartaglia’s eyes dart to you, and they widen as he watches you shift on his dick, your tip forcing its way over the hem of your panties, now drooling pre all over his shirt. Tartaglia squeezes his eyes shut. You press a kiss right under his ear and Tartaglia twitches inside you. You let out a lewd moan and he doesn’t think he can take it anymore.

Not another thirty minutes, or another five.

Tartaglia’s hands shake, and he’s forced to watch his in-game character die again. “Fuck…” He whispers, trying not to roll his hips into your heat. “I… You’re torturing me. Can’t take this.” He whines.

You shake your head. “C’mon, baby.” You coo, using the nickname Tartaglia always uses for you. It sounds almost mocking the way it slips from your pretty lips, but he doesn’t dwell on it. “You might wanna hurry up, or I’ll have to pull out my old dildo to help me…”

No! Tartaglia thinks, and he voices such thoughts with the aggressive shake of his head against you. I can do better than a stupid dildo!

“P-Please don’t.” he says weakly. “I’m trying, I’m trying.” Tartaglia starts to concentrate on his console once again, doing his best to ignore the squeeze of your ass and the warmth of your walls.

Your tip drools pre across his shirt, twitching gently against the fabric. Tartaglia’s mouth waters. He wants to taste you, wants to bury his face between your thighs and lick every drop up. It’s an indulgence he wants to become reality more than anything.

“Can I at least touch you, please?" he asks desperately, gaze not leaving your tip. Tartaglia wants to be closer to you, to have a hand on your soft skin, to play with your dick that was so close to the cumming. He’s ready to do anything in order to make you cum, to feel you pulse around his dick. He’s losing his mind, and the game was the least of his worries. Tartaglia wants you.

"Touch me before you finish the level, and there'll be consequences." You hum. "And trust me, if you think this is bad, just wait until you see what I have in mind." you press your lips gently against Tartaglia’s neck, trailing from his adam's apple to that sweet spot right under his ear. "I'm sure you'd deprive some sick form of enjoyment from that, though."

Tartaglia whimpers at the threat. He doesn’t know what would be worse: the current situation or the punishment you offer. Sick form of enjoyment… His mind echoes. He would most likely enjoy anything you gave him right now.

And like an answer to his prayers, you shift on his dick again. Tartaglia watches as your tip pokes above the fabric of your lace panties, even higher than before. The used-to-be white was now a dark grey with the way your pre had stained and wet through the fabric. Your panties were completely soaked through, the bulge from your dick covered in pre from your leaking tip, poking just above the hem.

Slowly, you tug your dick out of the panties, making sure to slather your fingers in your precum before pressing them against Tartaglia’s lips. "Clean them up." You whisper, and the sound of your voice almost makes him melt.

The instant your fingers press against his lips, Tartaglia is eagerly licking them into his mouth, his tongue swirling your digits around and coating them in his spit. He didn’t hesitate to continue sucking on your fingers, despite knowing they were already clean enough.

“Such an eager boy,” You murmur as you yank your fingers from Tartaglia's lips. There’s a string of drool that connects your hand to his pouty lips as he gives you another pleading look.

“Will you let me touch you now?” He begs, “Please, I’ve been so good for you!” Tartaglia licks his lips, savouring the faint taste of you. He wants more, he wants to grab you by the waist and bury his face between your thighs and suck you off until you’re nothing but a mess inside his mouth.

You bring your fingers back down to your dick, swiping them over your tip and harshly pressing them against Tartaglia’s mouth. “Suck.” You command in a harsh voice, completely ignoring his previous question.

Tartaglia’s lips go back around your fingers again. He doesn’t need to be told twice when you’re the one telling him. He easterly laps at your fingers, ignoring the drool that threatens to spill from the corner of his lips. You press your fingers down against his tongue and he chokes lightly, lifting his blue eyes to meet yours,

When you finally pull your fingers out of his mouth, Tartaglia buries his head into your neck about to ask to touch you again—only for you to beat him to it. “You get two minutes to touch me, but you can only use your hands.” You start. “And, we have to stay in this position. No pulling out or thrusting." You press a kiss against Tartaglia’s lips. "Think of it as... encouragement to finish the level faster."

Tartaglia nods happily at your words, pulling off your neck to get a better view of you. “Thank you—thank you, baby, needed this.” He slurs as his eyes rake down your exposed body before honing in on your sensitive cock. He wishes you’d let him lick that instead of your fingers, but you were clear on your rules for the two minutes.

Tartaglia has two minutes, a whole two minutes to make you feel good. There’s no way he’s let them go to waste.

He wastes no time when the game is finally paused. Tartaglia cups your balls gently, feeling the weight of them in his palm. He massages them slowly, his thumb rubbing up and down the underside of your dick, feeling the warmth and the leaking pre that slipps down your shaft. Tartaglia knows nothing can make you cum in this position, but he can make you squirm, he can tease you.

His other hand wanders up, his fingers ghosting over your skin, drawing circles around your nipples before pinching them gently. He wants to hear you moan, to see you writhe. Tartaglia needs to know he was pleasing you. He gazes at your face, waiting to see a reaction, anything to show that he’s making you feel good.

Your eyes roll back and your dick twitches hard against Tartaglia’s hand. “T-Tartaglia…!” You moan out, your back arching into his chest. Tartaglia’s fingers pull gently at you nipples, tweaking and twisting the nubs between his thumb and pointer finger. Your eyes roll back and Tartaglia whines at the sight, sliding his thumb faster up and down your dick, rolling it over your tip before sliding it against your slit.

He feels your hole clench around his dick, and Tartaglia has to squeeze his eyes shut in concentration to stop himself from bucking into you. He’s about to roll his hand again when it’s suddenly pushed away from your leaking dick. You yank his hands off your nipples too, panting as you do. “Two minutes have passed.” You mumble.

Tartaglia knows you were close from the way you sounded to the way you jerked your hips into his hand. “I’m sorry.” He whines, sounding like he’s carrying the weight of the world in his heart.

With a deep breath, Tartaglia focuses back on the game again, he hopes that this time he’ll finally beat the level. He’s determined, he wants to make you cum, to please you. He needs to win.

You slump against his shoulder, clearly needy. Tartaglia sucks in a breath. You were so close. He thinks. His focus turns back to the game, moving the joystick and pressing the rounded buttons as skillfully as he can manage with you taking his cock to the hilt,

Tartaglia feels you lean forward, your hands dipping under the hem of his shirt. “I wanna see you…” You whine and his face flushes. Tartaglia doesn’t have time to respond before the game console is slipping from his hands and you’re tugging his shirt off his figure.

Another eternity passes as Tartaglia picks up the console once again, doing his best to beat the level. He closes his eyes—just about to give up when the victory music blasts throughout the bedroom. “Finally—fuck, fuck, baby.” Tartaglia groans, tossing the console and pouncing on you.

His lips press against yours, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. Tartaglia is kissing you harshly, his lips flush against yours as your tongue gently swirls with his.

He pulls away after a minute, both of your faces flushed and panting. “I-I’m sorry it took me so long.” Tartaglia apologizes. He wants to please you, make you cum, see you lose control just because of him. He was desperate to feel you squirm against him, he wants to see the way your face would twist in pleasure when he fucks you just right.

Tartaglia slowly pulls out, hissing as he leaves your comforting warmth and is met with the harsh, cold outside air.

“Let me take you, please…” He begs, his eyes filled with desire and the need to have you. Tartaglia wanted you—no, needed you. His hand wanders back to your dick, wrapping his palm around your shaft and quickly jerking you up and down at a messy pace.

Tartaglia would do anything to have you come undone on his dick.

“Uh-huh.” You whine, and Tartaglia thinks it’s cute how all your confidence diminishes the instant you're offered some dick.

He watches you twist your body to lay flat against the bed on your back. Slowly, your legs splay into the air before you pull them back and bend them at your knees. Your ass, all empty and clenching around nothing, is now fully exposed to Tartaglia. Your hole is stretched already, from the much too long of a time you spent just sitting on his dick. Your own cock lays across your tummy, twitching and drooling uselessly,

Tartaglia sucks in a breath at the sight of your hole. His dick is throbbing at the sight, pressing angrily against his tummy, so hard and needy. He wants to do nothing more than bury himself inside you, to feel your warm muscle clench around him once more.

Slowly, he lowers himself into a kneeling position right in front of you. Tartaglia dips his head to your ass, pressing light kisses across the curve of your thighs. He trails his mouth down to your dick, taking the tip into his mouth. His eyes roll back at the feeling of finally having you in his mouth. Tartaglia sucks harshly, bobbing his head up and down your length. He runs his tongue over the underside of your shaft.

Tartaglia swirls his tongue around your overly sensitive tip, watching and depriving pure enjoyment of the way your hips buck into his mouth messily. You throw an arm over your face, trying to muffle your breathless moans and flushed face. Tartaglia gives you a harsh suck for warning, letting you know that if you don’t remove your hand now, things would get worse.

You, of course, comply, pushing your hand to the sheets and clenching them in your fist.

Tartaglia hums happily, the vibrations travelling across your shaft. He feels you twitch in his mouth and your legs thrash beside his head, squeezing and pulsing by his ears as he goes faster, making sure to let the drool spill from his lips as he moves his head.

Tartaglia pushes his lips down to your base bringing a hand to fondle your balls gently and you whine, your back arching off the bed. Your hand goes to tangle itself into Tartaglia’s hair, pushing your dick deeper down his throat. “I—holy shit—I’m c-close!” You whine, and that was enough of a signal to pull off your dick.

Tartaglia smears kisses across your ass, ignoring your desperate whines and cries, before eventually leading to your puffy hole, all nice and stretched for him. He’s quick to bury his mouth against you, already feeling his brain go mushy at the feeling. His tongue slips into you easily, and you whine at the feeling.

Tartaglia fucks his tongue into you with great fervour, not even caring for his hard dick. All he can think about is the taste of you on his tongue, the way your hole clenches down so nicely against his mouth and those sweet, sweet moans of: “M-More, please, need you so bad!” That slip from your lips and get his hips rocking his dick into the side of the mattress.

Tartaglia’s tongue pushes and prods into you, again and again until he hears you moan loudly. His eyes dart up, barely able to catch the way your back arches. Your legs shake around him yet again, your thighs squeezing around his ears, which only drives him to thrust his tongue into you further. Drool slips down his chin, but he doesn’t care, all he wants is to taste you again, and again, because, fuck, if he died right here, between your thighs, he would die a happy man.

“Right there!” You cry, Your legs threatening to squeeze tightly on Tartaglia’s head. He pushes his tongue in again, thrusting it in and out of your hole with a scary precision, making sure he hits your prostate every time.

“O-Oh, my—fuck, can’t take it!” You whine and he smirks against your tightening hole. “I need you, please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease!” You’re a complete mess, babbling nonsense as he eats you out, eyes rolling back and legs shaking in ecstasy,

All it took was him shoving a finger in, curling it in time with his tongue, for you to cum. Tartaglia eagerly pulls off your ass, watching as your dick twitches against your tummy and ropes of cum shoot from your member. He waits until you're finished before pressing his face against the mess you just made and licking it clean.

Tartaglia looks up at you from his position against your belly. “I….” He whines. “I’m still hard.” He gives an apologetic smile before going back to his first position in front of the bed, this time standing up. He lifts your collapsed legs, throwing them over his shoulders as he slaps his cock beside your limp one.

As quickly as he can, Tartaglia grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand and smears it all over his shaft. “Help me out, pretty boy.” He whines and you whimper at the nickname. Slowly, you push yourself onto your elbows just enough to push your hand to his dick and help him spread the lube.

Tartaglia doesn’t even bother to continue once you start, only throwing his head back with a loud groan. “That’s it, o-oh, archons you’re good at this.” His eyes squeeze shut and Tartaglia has to stop himself from cumming on the spot for the nth time tonight. He doesn’t even bother to lube your hole, only murmuring a sweet, “This pussies wet enough for me, right?” before he’s pressing a messy kiss to your neck.

“Not a pussy.” You slur, but he doesn't take any mind.

“D-Don’t worry, baby.” Tartaglia coos as he presses his thick tip against your weak hole. “Promise it’ll feel so good…” He wants to be inside you, to make you come again and again.

And suddenly, he’s halfway in, the thick of Tartaglia’s shaft being swallowed almost whole by your pretty ass was almost enough to make him cum right then and there. You whine lowly, back instinctively arching into him, forcing yourself deeper onto his dick.

“Fuck, baby, look what you do t’me.” He groans, pulling out so it’s just his tip stuck in your pretty, clenching hole. Tartaglia fucks his tip into you, watching it messily slide out then in, then out then in, over and over again until he can’t take it anymore and can’t help but want more.

Tartaglia—like the pathetic man he knows he is—can’t take it anymore. He pushes in fully, but just before he does, spits a large glob of drool from his lips to the tip of your spent cock watching it twitch under the feeling. He laughs, watching your dick twitch back to life. “And to think you get off to me spitting on you.” He murmurs, before finally thrusting in fully, in one, harsh movement.

The moan you let out is so pretty and high, and Tartaglia can feel his balls grow heavy at the sound. Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the lewd squelch of his dick pressing in, in, in and against your prostate, his tip knocking easily at it.

Tartaglia pistons his hips into you, basking in the moans and pleas for “more, more, more!” that slipped from your pretty lips. He’s pounding into you, and Tartaglia watches your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands shake as you desperately reach out to grab onto the sheets for leverage as he pushes your legs up, leaning down onto your body as he forces you into a mating press.

And, oh, Tartaglia feels like he just slipped so much deeper into you, and with the way your walls squeeze and clench and you moan his name like a mantra—Tartaglia is sure he’s just died and reached heaven.

His thrusts start to lose their rhythm, but they still manage to fill you up so much that, before Tartaglia can process what’s happening, you're crying out, your ass clenching so tightly against him he thinks he sees stars.

“I—I’m close, ‘m so close!” You cry and Tartaglia can’t help but bury his face into your neck as he thrust into your ass.

“Me too, baby.” He whimpers out. Tartaglia reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his much larger ones, before letting out a loud moan. “Together, please, baby, cum together.”

And you’re eagerly nodding your head, a mix of “yes” and “please” leaving your lips. Tartaglia isn’t even pulling out anymore, just knocking his hips against yours—no rhythm or pattern, just instinct as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Cummin’ o-oh—fuck!” You whine and Tartaglia instantly does too, feeling the way your dick spurts thick ropes of white onto your chest and his only drives him to the edge. He buries himself as deep as he can before collapsing onto you, pressing his full weight onto his hips. Tartaglia shoots a thick load of his seed into your awaiting hole, whining in content as he feels you milk his cock, squeezing down on him.

You’re panting, laying on the bed with Tartaglia pressed on top of you. His arms snake around your waist, tugging and twisting your connected bodies so that he’s spooning you, his chin resting on top of you’re head.

After a minute of rest, Tartaglia’s arms squeeze around your waist. “Love you, so much.” He murmurs tiredly.

“Promise?” You giggle back, despite the feeling of your exhaustion weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“Always an’ forever.” Tartaglia whispers sweetly. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer as the two of you bask in the afterglow in each other’s arms. “I’ll love you, always and forever.”

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤthe perfect pairㅤ...ㅤ( 제이 )

꒰ ✉️ ꒱ you both are addicted to each other's lies.

ㅤㅤ﹙587﹚ ㅤ장르 bittersweet, est rel.ㅤㅤwarnings a bit suggestive, communication issues, toxic maybeㅤᐢᗜᐢ for @jlheons' 1k event >< i'm sorry for the super late entry bae .. :< hope u like this iNDEX

ib — “the perfect pair” by beabadoobee

“are we okay?” you whisper against his lips, fingers caressing his cheeks that are stained slightly with your lip tint. 

and he whispers back before capturing your lips in another slow yet searing kiss. “yes,”

you think you’re addicted to his lies. 

“jay—” you try to speak, although he cuts you off by putting his finger on your lips. he picks you up a little, just enough to settle you down on your dresser, not caring about stuff falling around. he can buy you a whole store, you just have to say the word. 

“not a word, angel, please,” his words are laced with desperation, quiet yet ringing so loudly in your head. you don’t know who leans in first— perhaps him, his lips moving against yours ruthlessly in contrast to the tenderness in the touch of his hands as his fingers slide a little under your top. 

and it goes like this, always. 

something goes wrong, you say a thing, he says another, an argument follows, and it’s forgotten as if it never happened. you were planning to have a serious after he stood you up for the third time this week, convincing yourself to not let him fool you. you had been running the conversation in your head over and over again, formulating your words. you were prepared for the talk, but it really only takes a look from him, and you’re back to square one. 

“shit—” you feel him curse under his breath, his lips grazing over your neck, down to your collarbones. your head tilts back habitually, a nip at your skin that makes you shiver. you feel his fingers fiddling with the hem of your top, your breath hitching as he looks into your eyes and takes in your flustered face. “can i?” 

and two wrongs don’t make it right, but you still give in. a nod and you find yourself on the bed, your top somewhere on the floor— it’s the last of your concerns. it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of rain outside and the uneven breaths in the room. jay pulls back from your lips and shifts all his attention to your neck, whispering between kisses. “you’re so perfect,” 

lie. 

“so, so perfect,” and he pulls away completely, one hand holding your wrist as he plants gentle kisses on your palms and wrists. “i love you so much,”

another lie. 

for some reason you think about the first time he had kissed you, the sparkles in his eyes despite the nervousness. it was clumsy, took you both a few seconds to adjust with giggles in between the soft pecks against yours lips. or you think about the first time he said ‘i love you’— scared, anxious, excited. the sight of you in your prom dress had him stuttering, and he could only blurt out those words when you said something to pull him out of the daze. 

you know how jay looks when he means something, and nothing like how he’s looking right now. 

“i love you too,” and you think you two are perfect for each other, after all, at least in terms of avoiding conversations and hiding things. you can talk, you don’t. you try, he kisses you. he tries, you change the topic. 

and so you call it yet another night with the kisses and whispers of words that probably mean little in your relationship. it’s wrong, but you’re still out here doing the same thing and he’s moving the same way, and you end up like always. 

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[en-gelic]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ—LOG O2: EVER SEEN

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ （엔하이픈 니키）the prettiest eyes you'd ever seen /// INFO : fem reader, fluff, slight angst, catching a cold | O.3k words, click for more

✉️ ,, for my bby @jlheon's event 💪 also, i've been OBSESSED w this song BYE not proofread bbys so enjoy my bad grammar >3<

The cold rain poured over your head, drenching your body entirely. Pushing the school door shut, the wind beat at your bare legs, forcing its cold breeze upon you. You set out to find the exchange student who you had never seen before but was obliged to search for because of class president duties.

“Riki.” You called, passing by onlookers who seemed appalled that you went out without an umbrella. The thunder rumbled loudly, echoing ripples down your spine as you splashed through pools of water, stopping under the roof of a convenience store, surprised to see the presence of your classmate sucking on an ice lolly against the wall.

His earphones hung loosely around his neck, he connected his gaze to yours, quickening your heartbeat by a single look.

He had the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen. Intimidating but intimate, all the more boring holes into your heart and propelling it to beat faster.

Moving towards him, you rested your back on the wall beside him. “Aren’t you worried about catching a cold?” You questioned, daring not to meet his gaze.

“Shouldn’t you be more worried about catching a cold than me?” He replied, taking in your drenched figure, your uniform sticking to your body. Snapping your head to look at him, you caught his cheeky smile, noticing the slit in his eyebrow that was covered by his dark hair.

“Shut up,” You began, grinning back at him, his bliss as contagious as chickenpox. “They sent me to look for you, so it’ll be your fault if I get sick.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly but was replaced with yet another grin “Then we’ll get sick together.”

The rain had transformed into a drizzle, the drops rippling into the puddles on the earthy ground. Punching his arm softly, you beamed at him, walking ahead of him into the slight drizzle. “Whatever, let’s get to school before we get someone else sick with us.”

The two of you emerged through the school gates in a fit of giggles, bodies still slight damp from the drizzle. Motioning to your classroom, his voice stopped you, turning your body to face him.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” He called, piercing his gaze into yours.

“So do you.” You replied, watching him reciprocate your grin.

Totally worth the fever you got the next day.

PERMANENT TAGLIST : @07sleepykatz @moknu @bunnbam @jlheon @luvlyhee @flwrstqr @sunrenity @jakesprincess1 @heeheesang @jwsdoll @graceeshii ( to join, click here ! ) networks : @enhablr @enchive, © EN-GELIC, 2024

[neos127]

sim jaeyun x gn!reader | the gum on my shoe

genre. fluff (ig) + lowk toxic relationship wc. 529 notes. for @jlheon entopia event!!

— based on talk by beabadoobie

your toxic relationship with jake was something that was difficult to come to terms with. the unfortunate truth was that some people simply didn’t match, you and jake being a prime example of that. there was someone for everyone, and jake just wasn’t that person for you. he knew that and so did you, but the both of you just couldn’t seem to let each other go.

even when you did try to communicate your feelings to jake and explain how terrible he was for your wellbeing, he always seemed to come back somehow. it was as if he were that pesky piece of gum on the sidewalk that would stick to the bottom of your shoe— impossible to get rid of.

“we shouldn’t be together right now.” you sighed, eyes closed as your forehead rested against jake’s. you’ve had this conversation one too many times, and it always seemed to end up with you in his lap while he kissed your tears away. you weren’t crying this time, but your heart skipped a few beats as guilt ate at your conscious. you shouldn’t be with him.

jake’s gaze was set on your pretty lips, only partially picking up what you were saying. the two of you were sat across from each other, your hands in his as jake fought the urge to kiss you.

“you didn’t break up with me yet.” he mumbled, and you could practically see the smirk on face even though your eyes were shut.

“you wouldn’t let me.” you sighed, causing jake to laugh. you pulled away slightly, looking at the man with an exasperated expression.

“i’m tired of this ‘back and forth’, jake.” you spoke up after a few seconds, refusing to meet his gaze. you could never stand your ground when it came to jake, and looking into his round puppy-like eyes only made you melt despite your complicated relationship.

“and i’m tired of your lips not being on mine right now.” jake replied, flirty as ever and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. all he had to do was sweet talk you a bit and you were putty in his hands.

“you’re no good for me, jake.” you whined, already knowing that you were going to give into his charms. jake was hard to resist and you couldn’t lie to yourself, you were planning to indulge in his sweetness anyway.

jake simply hummed in mock agreement before grabbing the back of your head with his large hand, an action that made your legs turn to jelly every time. he didn’t waste another second before locking his lips with yours, tilting his head and pressing your body impossibly close to his.

“can i take you out tonight?” jake asked once he pulled away, a small smile on his face. you rolled your eyes before hiding your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a sigh.

“on a random tuesday?” you raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the feeling of jake’s fingers softly caressing the skin underneath your shirt.

“why not?” he shrugged, tilting your head up to kiss your lips again. you bit back a lovesick smile despite your stomach churning uncomfortably. you were only going to hurt yourself if you kept jake around— but maybe one more night couldn’t hurt.