#Best eyelash serum
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ozsupershop · 1 year ago
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uoglacewigglue1 · 23 days ago
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UOG Liquid Eyelash Enhancing Serum – Longer, Thicker Lashes
Boost lash growth with UOG Liquid Eyelash Enhancing Serum. Nourishing formula for longer, fuller lashes. Safe, effective, and easy to apply daily!
https://uogskincare.com/product/uog-liquid-eyelash-enhancing-serum/
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hokmakeup123 · 3 months ago
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innerspiritglow · 4 months ago
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DIY Lash Serum: 5 Simple Recipes for Stronger, Fuller Lashes!
IntroductionWhy DIY Lash Serums Work5 Simple DIY Lash Serum Recipes for Stronger, Fuller LashesTips for Maximizing Your DIY Lash Serum ResultsConclusionFrequently Asked QuestionsWhat is a DIY Lash Serum?How does a DIY Lash Serum work?How often should I apply a DIY Lash Serum?Can a DIY Lash Serum make my lashes grow faster?Are DIY Lash Serums safe to use?Can I use DIY Lash Serum on both upper and…
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pakurangapharmacynz · 6 months ago
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Serum for the Best Lash Care| Buy Eyelash Serum Online| Get Clean Lashes with Serums
Need lash growth fast? Well, Pakuranga Pharmacy offers the best clean eyelash serum. Branded, affordable, and available 24/7. Why wait? Buy now before it’s gone!
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venusdistributionmalta1 · 9 months ago
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The solution to your eyelash problems. 
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misslinala · 10 months ago
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cloudtransprncy · 2 months ago
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Dumb/Problem
Kim Chaewon x Male Reader | 4k words Tags: cheating, light bratty elements, backshots, reckless decisions, tension, guilty pleasure Next Pt 2.
Cutting class to get a break? Nah. Cutting class to fuck your girlfriends best friend? Yesssssir
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Is this dumb?
Skipping class just to fuck your girlfriend's best friend?
Absolutely.
But with her soft bed under your knees and your hands gripping her hips—who gives a shit about being smart right now?
Chaewon's room is exactly like her—carefully curated chaos that feels effortless.
All-white sheets that tangle around your legs, a fuzzy cream blanket kicked to the side. Squishmallows stacked against her headboard, now knocked over from how hard the bed's shaking. BTS watching from a poster on the wall, vinyls of SZA and Keshi mounted near her mirror like trophies. Polaroids scattered across her wall—blurry concert nights, drunken smiles, memories you're not part of.
Her dresser is a mess of half-open products—lip masks, serums in glass bottles, perfumes that cost more than you make in a week. The scent of her hangs in the air—sweet vanilla with something darker underneath, something that gets under your skin and stays there.
A Bath & Body Works candle sits for show, not for burning. Makeup scattered like she got ready in a hurry—an open tube of lip gloss, an eyelash curler abandoned.
Nike slides kicked off by the bed, a Starbucks cup still half-full on the nightstand. Your hoodie thrown over her chair—she took it last week and never gave it back.
Chaewon's face is pressed into the mattress, her messy bun barely hanging on, blonde strands sticking to her neck as she gasps. She's arching her back for you, pressing her ass against you as you sink your cock into her, her pussy gripping you so tight it makes your vision blur. The wet sounds of her taking you fill the room—slick, obscene, mixed with the slap of skin on skin and those breathy little moans she tries to muffle in her pillow.
Her skin is hot beneath your hands, a thin layer of sweat making her glow in the dim light coming through her curtains. That sweet vanilla scent gets stronger as her body heats up, mixing with the unmistakable smell of sex.
Her white tank top is riding up her back, bunched around her ribs. You keep pushing it higher, needing to see more of her, to feel more of her skin under your hands. Your eyes can't get enough of her—the curve where her waist dips before flaring to her hips, the way her body trembles when you hit just right.
Rough. Desperate.
She shudders when you dig your fingers harder into her waist, leaving marks that will still be there tomorrow. Her nails claw at the sheets, hips rocking back, trying to take control, but you don't let her. You decide the pace. You decide how deep. She just has to take it.
Her breath catches on a moan when you thrust harder. She feels too fucking good, squeezing around your cock like she was made to take you, like she's trying to break your self-control.
Then—light cuts through the moment.
Your phone, half-buried in the rumpled sheets, screen glowing bright. You don't need to check it.
Eunbi.
Your actual girlfriend.
Chaewon's supposed best friend.
She has no clue. No idea you're not in calculus right now. No idea you've got her best friend's ass pressed against you, your cock buried inside her.
Probably just asking about hanging out later, or sending you some stupid TikTok that made her think of you. Something sweet and normal because that's who Eunbi is.
You flip the phone over, face down against the bed. You shouldn't be here. You should be in class. Or with Eunbi. But Chaewon pushes back against you, and those thoughts disappear real fucking quick.
Chaewon turns her head, looking back over her shoulder, breathless but still fucking smirking. "Going to ignore her like that?"
Instead of answering, you press your hand between her shoulder blades, shoving her face back into the mattress.
She moans, the sound muffled by sheets, but you can hear the smile in it. Even with your cock inside her, she's still playing games.
"Bet she'd cry if she saw you like this."
Something dark twists inside you at her words. Your grip turns bruising, thrusts harder, deeper, and whatever smugness she had vanishes in an instant.
Chaewon whimpers, nails digging into the sheets hard enough to tear them, thighs trembling. She can't keep up anymore, can't match your rhythm as you fuck her harder than anyone has before.
She gasps out something—your name, "fuck," maybe both—but it breaks into a high, desperate sound that lets you know you've won.
Eunbi is good. Beautiful. Sweet. She gives head like she read about it in a magazine. She's the kind of girl people expect you to stay loyal to.
But Chaewon? Chaewon is filthy, tight, and knows exactly how to crawl under your skin and live there.
Eunbi texts you good morning with heart emojis. Chaewon sends you pictures of her tits when she knows her best friend is sitting right beside her.
Eunbi kisses you like she's making promises. Chaewon bites your lip until you taste blood and laughs when you wince.
Eunbi's the girl you bring to prom. The girl your mom loves. The girl who makes you lunch and saves you a seat in the cafeteria. But Chaewon's the girl you ruin your life for.
She's still testing you, still pushing back against you even as she falls apart. "You're holding back," she accuses between gasps, her voice shaky but challenging.
Your jaw tightens. She always does this shit. Always wants to see how far she can push before you break.
You answer with a thrust so hard it knocks her flat against the mattress, her blonde hair spilling across the white sheets. She gasps, a shocked sound that's almost a yelp, but when she looks back at you, that fucking smirk is still there, daring you for more.
"Fuck—slow down—" she starts, but you both know she doesn't mean it.
Your fingers dig into her hips, dragging her back onto your cock as you set a pace that finally wipes that smug look off her face. Whatever game she was playing dissolves into gasping breaths and desperate moans she can't hold back anymore.
She's squeezing you so tight it's hard to think, too good to remember why this is such a fucking bad idea, too perfect to care about who keeps blowing up your phone from the other side of the bed.
Your phone vibrates against the sheets. Again. And again.
Chaewon notices, of course she does. She lets out this breathless little laugh that makes your stomach flip, barely turning her head, voice syrupy and taunting like the cherry slushies she's always drinking between classes. "Does she even make you feel this good?"
You don't answer. You push her face into the mattress instead, feeling a rush that's better than any post-game high you've ever chased.
She moans, muffled against floral sheets, but you can hear the fucking amusement in it, the way she's still enjoying this too much, like she's winning some bet with herself.
If she wants it rough, she's going to get it. And God, every bone in your stupid teenage body is screaming to give it to her.
Your hand slides up her back, fingers wrapping lightly around her throat as you lean down, your varsity track team t-shirt sticking to your chest with sweat, voice low in her ear. "Take it, take that dick."
She instantly becomes a whimpering, moaning mess beneath you, her whole body quivering. You can feel her pussy clench tight around you, gripping your cock like she's desperate to keep you inside. She licks her lips—you can feel the sticky gloss against your palm—her breath hitching in that way that makes you dizzy, and pushes her hips back against you again. A deliberate roll that makes you forget there's a calc test tomorrow you should be studying for.
That's all you need.
Your grip tightens, forcing her still, making sure she takes it. She chokes out a gasp, her whole body shuddering against yours, her thighs—always toned from cheer practice—trembling as you fuck her deeper, harder, until her teasing completely breaks apart.
At this angle, with your weight pressing her down, you can feel everything—every slick, desperate clench around your length, the obscene wetness that spreads between you each time you push back in. It's suffocating, consuming, a vice of heat wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into something you shouldn't want this badly but fuck, you'd fail every class for this feeling.
Her hand reaches back, grabbing blindly for anything to hold onto—your wrist, your thigh—until she finds your arm. She grips it hard, nails dragging over your skin, feeling the way your muscles flex under her fingers. Feeling you as she feels you inside, the same fingers that wave to Eunbi across the cafeteria now digging into your skin.
Your phone vibrates again, the buzz muffled against the rumpled sheets where you flipped it face down earlier. Neither of you look at it. Neither of you dare.
Chaewon's breathless now, moaning into the sheets, a mess beneath you, every ounce of her earlier cockiness gone, replaced by something desperate and hungry that makes you feel ten feet tall. The most popular girl in school, falling apart for you.
If you were a better person, you wouldn't be here.
But you're not. You're the kind of person who thinks about this—about her—even during fourth period when Eunbi is passing you notes with little hearts drawn in the margins.
A noise outside the room—soft, but distinct. A car door? Her mom home early? Your body tenses, every muscle tight, your breath catching mid-thrust, the reality of where you are crashing in.
Chaewon hears it too. Feels you hesitate.
And then she laughs. Breathless, airy, like this is the funniest thing that's happened all day, like the thought of getting caught is just another cheap thrill.
"Aww, scared someone's gonna catch you balls deep in me?" Her voice is teasing, dripping with amusement, even as her legs tremble beneath you, her Victoria's Secret Pink thong still dangling from one ankle.
Your fingers flex around her throat in retaliation, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. She barely has a second to process it before you slam her down, your grip unrelenting, then flip her onto her back so fast she barely has time to catch her breath, her blonde hair—perfectly highlighted last weekend at a salon that costs more than your car payment—slipping free from its messy bun, wild against the sheets.
Your cock slips free in the motion, and you grab it tight, feeling the obscene slickness coating your length, dripping from her. It's wet—wet as fuck—before you slap it against her swollen folds. The sound is loud, filthy, obscene—wet as hell. Your cock slides against her, dragging through the mess between them before you shove it back in. She shudders, her breath hitching, her thighs twitching as you tease her with the weight of it before pressing forward, sinking back inside.
Chaewon's eyes flutter, her breath catching as you force her legs up, pressing her thighs flush to her chest, pinning her in place, giving her no room to squirm away. The new angle has her gasping, hands flying up to your arms, gripping tight, her nails—freshly done in that pale pink Eunbi helped her pick out yesterday—dig into your arms, clinging tight like she's bracing for impact, like she needs something to hold onto before she breaks completely.
The bed shifts beneath you, and your phone vibrates once more, the buzz reverberating through the mattress, felt through every grinding thrust. You both feel it. Neither of you care. Not when you should be in Mr. Kim's class right now, not when Eunbi thinks you're taking notes instead of taking her best friend.
Your only focus is on the way she clenches around you, the way she gasps your name between ragged moans, the way she completely melts beneath you, nothing like the ice queen who rules the hallways.
Chaewon's hands fly to your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she pulls you down to her. There's nothing delicate about it—her kiss is messy, frantic, her lips parted, her breath hot and ragged against yours. She kisses like she's starving for it, like she wants to taste herself on your tongue, like she doesn't care how sloppy it gets.
Your tongues tangle, wet and uncoordinated, her mouth opening wider, drool slicking your chin, mixing with the sweat beading along your skin. She moans into it, needy, desperate, hips shifting beneath you, trying to keep up with the way you fuck her, so different from the composed way she presents herself in class.
You pull back just enough to catch her dazed expression, lips swollen, spit-glossed. A strand of saliva still connects you, snapping when she licks her lips, pupils blown wide with something dangerously close to obsession.
"You don't kiss her like that," she breathes, and it's not a question. It's a victory lap.
No, you don't.
Eunbi kisses soft, slow, careful—under the bleachers after school, sweet and innocent. Chaewon kisses like she wants to ruin you for anyone else. And you let her.
Your response is a sharp thrust, making her yelp, making her arms tighten around your shoulders. Her back arches off the bed, the tiny gold cross necklace her parents gave her for her birthday sliding against her collarbone, and you take the moment to move, dragging yourself out until just the tip remains before shoving back in, hard. Her breath hitches, body tightening, legs shaking.
Then you stop moving.
She whines immediately, brows furrowing, her legs squeezing around you, trying to force you to keep going. But you don't. You let the frustration build, watching her squirm, watching her writhe beneath you—wet, glistening, flushed deep with arousal. She's a fucking mess, and you're not done making her one.
You let the moment hang, let the desperation settle before tilting your head down and spitting—right on her clit. The thick glob lands exactly where you want it, shining against her swollen bud. Before she can even process it, your thumb is there, pressing in, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles as you start moving again.
She chokes on her breath, body jolting like she just got caught cheating on a test.
"Fuck," she whimpers, fingers clawing at your forearms, legs shaking with every tight, controlled rub.
You're still hovering above her, watching her squirm, watching her fall apart beneath you, burning this image into your brain to replay during the classes you actually attend.
"Eunbi wouldn't let you do that," she gasps, voice breaking, teasing even as she crumbles, the same mouth that gives morning announcements over the school intercom now whimpering your name.
No, she wouldn't.
Eunbi wouldn't moan like this, wouldn't beg like this, wouldn't be dripping like this. Eunbi wouldn't take you like this, wouldn't even dream of skipping AP Lit to fuck in an empty house. Eunbi is SAT prep courses and college applications and volunteer hours.
Chaewon is this.
And that's why you fuck her harder.
Your thrusts grow rougher, deeper, driven by something reckless and insatiable, something you're too young to name but old enough to crave. Chaewon's body rocks beneath you, her moans turning sharper, breathless, spilling into the thick heat of the room. You press down, pinning her fully against the mattress, making sure she takes every inch, making sure she feels all of it.
Her nails scrape against your back, leaving marks that'll sting in the shower after practice, her legs tightening around your waist, pulling you closer, needing you deeper. Her breath stutters between gasps, each one catching higher as you fuck her harder, hungrier, as if there's no tomorrow—no girlfriend still calling, no consequence waiting outside this room, no college future that could evaporate if this gets out.
Risk of getting caught? Forgotten.
Guilt of cheating on your girlfriend? Forgotten.
Eunbi? Forgotten.
The only thing that matters is the way your cock fits so snug against Chaewon's walls, the way she clenches down, tight and desperate, squeezing you with every frantic, high-pitched moan as she completely loses all composure. The Queen Bee of your high school reduced to a whimpering mess beneath you.
She's right there, on the edge, her nails dragging, her hips bucking up, desperate to finish. But you don't let her have it. Not yet. Not when seeing her like this—completely undone, completely yours—is better than any high you've ever chased on the field.
You slow—not in pace, but in control. Shift your weight, dragging her with you, rolling her onto her side without ever slipping out. One of her legs hitches over yours, your grip securing it in place as you push in again, deeper, the angle hitting something inside her that makes her whimper, makes her entire body tense up like she's been shocked.
Her fingers claw at your arm, nails pressing into taut muscle built from varsity workouts, her breath breaking apart into sharp little gasps that fill the bedroom. She's trying to speak, trying to say something, but it keeps getting swallowed between ragged moans.
"I'm—" she tries, voice cracking, "I—fuck—"
The way she stumbles over it, how she can barely get the words out—the girl who always has a comeback, who never shuts up in class—makes something snap inside you. Your cock throbs, swelling even harder, stretching her more as her walls squeeze around you in desperation. Your grip tightens—on her thighs, her ass, her waist. You need to feel her, need to hold every part of her as she comes undone.
Your hands roam—palming the curve of her back, gripping her tits, feeling the way they bounce with every thrust. Then up, fingers tangling into her blonde hair, tugging her head back against the pillows, making sure she feels all of it, all of you.
She pulls a pillow close, biting into it, eyes squeezed shut, drowning in the way you fuck her. The room is thick with the sound of skin against skin, her breathless whimpers breaking into something higher, needier. The air is heavy, thick with sweat, with the intoxicating scent of her—her Victoria's Secret body spray mixing with the raw, musky heat of sex, the sheets carrying the evidence of it. It's overwhelming, suffocating, consuming, every breath filled with her.
You're barely holding on yourself, tension winding tight in your spine, in your stomach, but seeing her like this—seeing her break beneath you, seeing her fall apart in your hands—that's what pushes you closer to the edge.
You grit your teeth, feel your cock twitch inside her, aching, swollen, so fucking close you can taste it. "I'm close," you manage, voice rough, strained, barely holding on.
Chaewon doesn't answer—not with words. Just a moan, high-pitched and wrecked, a breathless whimper spilling past her swollen lips. She turns her head, eyes hazy, half-lidded, looking at you through the blur of sweat and pleasure. Her gaze drops, trailing down your body, watching the way you're fucking into her, the way you stretch her open, the way you own her—this girl who has everything, who everyone wants to be.
Then her hand moves—sliding between her legs, fingers brushing over her swollen, messy clit. She gasps at the contact, whines as she rubs tight, fast circles, her entire body tensing, back arching into you.
The slick, obscene sounds of it mix with her gasps, her slurred curses, her whimpers breaking into desperate, breathless pleas. "Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—"
You're right there. So fucking close. This moment of perfect, terrible clarity where nothing exists outside this room—not school, not your future, not even tomorrow.
Chaewon gets there first. Her entire body seizes up, legs trembling, thighs squeezing tight around your waist as she crashes into her orgasm. Her grip turns bruising, hands clawing at you—your back, your arms, your shoulders—grasping for anything, everything as she spirals.
"Oh my fuck!" she screams, head thrown back, voice breaking into something raw and desperate, loud enough that you're suddenly grateful her parents won't be home for hours.
That's it. That's what fucking wrecks you.
Your body locks up, heat pooling at the base of your spine, surging through you like a live wire, so intense it knocks the breath from your lungs. Your cock twitches violently inside her, pulsing, aching, your entire body seizing up—legs tensing, toes curling, muscles locking in place as the pleasure crashes through you. You bury yourself deep one last time before instinct kicks in, before you yank yourself out, your hands shoving her onto her back.
You stroke yourself fast, frantic, desperate, your abs clenching, hips jerking on instinct, chasing that last pulse of pleasure. The sight of her wrecked beneath you, her skin still flushed, her thighs twitching, sends you over the fucking edge. "Shit—" you groan, voice wrecked, guttural, as your cock throbs violently in your grip. The first thick spurt shoots out, streaking across her stomach, hot and filthy, splashing across the curve of her waist, her navel. The rest follows in messy ropes, dribbling down her skin, pooling between her ribs. It's everywhere—sticky, raw, a fucking mess. Chaewon shudders at the sensation, her breath hitching, her thighs still twitching from the aftershocks of her own release.
She exhales, still trembling, thighs twitching, completely spent. A fucked-out smile tugs lazily at her lips as she drags a slow, shaky breath in, her chest rising, coated in the evidence of what you just did to her.
You sit back, gasping, running a hand through your sweat-damp hair, trying to catch your breath. The room smells like sex and sweat and her perfume—a combination that's going to haunt your dreams for weeks.
Chaewon stirs, reaching down without hesitation. Her fingers trail over her stomach, gathering the mess you left on her, scooping up a streak from her skin and bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicks out, tasting it, humming low in her throat. Then she does it again—this time from her chest, then her waist, dragging her fingers through the sticky warmth, licking it up like it's second nature.
"Fuck," you breathe, voice wrecked, hand finding her thigh and squeezing it tight.
She moans softly at the contact, smirking as she stretches out beneath you, shameless. "You fucked the shit out of me," she purrs, voice thick, teasing. "Now you gonna think about it the next time you fuck Eunbi, huh?"
Your jaw tightens. The mention of her—your girlfriend—after everything you just did, after the way Chaewon looks right now, smug and satisfied and so fucking filthy, makes something snap.
Your hand flies to her throat, gripping, pinning her back into the sheets. She gasps, but it's not in protest—it's in pleasure. Her lips part, her breath hitches, eyes darkening as she tilts her chin up, inviting more, daring you.
And then your phone rings.
Not just a vibration this time. A full-blown call.
Loud. Shrill. Eunbi.
A cold weight sinks into your chest, heavy, suffocating. The real world crashing back in like a bucket of ice water.
Post-nut clarity slams into you, cutting through the heat still clinging to your skin. Everything crashes in at once—who you are, what you've done, what this means.
You let go of Chaewon's neck like she burns you, scrambling off of her, off the bed, reaching blindly for your phone. Your hands are still shaky as you grab it, answering as fast as you can, voice rough, breath unsteady.
"Hey."
Eunbi's voice is light, sweet, unaware. "Hey, why weren't you replying? It's class change."
Fuck. You swallow hard, running a hand through your damp hair. Your skin is still hot, sticky, the air thick with the lingering heat and smell of musk.
"Uh—I had to walk home to grab something."
A lie. A weak one. But it makes sense. You live close enough to the school that it's not impossible. You just hope she buys it, hope she doesn't hear how your heart is still hammering against your ribs.
"Oh," Eunbi hums. "I got worried."
As she talks, you don't notice Chaewon moving. Not until she's right there, sliding down the bed, her bare body pressing into your side, her face hovering way too close to your cock.
Your breath hitches. Your grip on the phone tightens.
She's smirking. Watching you. Waiting. The same look she gives when she knows the answer to a question no one else can solve.
"You weren't answering," Eunbi says. "I thought something happened."
"Sorry, babe. Didn't mean to worry you."
And that's when Chaewon makes her move.
She doesn't touch your cock. Not yet. Instead, her mouth goes lower, latching onto your balls, sucking wet and slow, tongue swirling over sensitive skin.
A bolt of heat spikes down your spine. Your muscles go tight, your breath cuts short, your fingers dig into the sheets.
"Shit," you almost say out loud—but bite your tongue last second.
Eunbi's still talking. You don't even register what she's saying. Something about meeting at lunch, something about the chem test next period.
Chaewon's fucking grinning, lips stretched around you, her eyes locked onto yours, waiting for you to slip up, to lose control, to moan or gasp or fucking break. The thrill of it clear in her eyes—the risk, the power she has over you right now.
You shove her back, her shoulders hitting the mattress, but all it does is make her giggle—low and sultry, like she's savoring your panic, like she enjoys watching you squirm. Too loudly. Dangerously loud.
Panic seizes your whole body. Your eyes go wide. You press a finger to your lips, mouthing, "Shhh."
Eunbi pauses on the other end. "You okay?"
You force yourself to act normal. To breathe. You push Chaewon away—physically shove her back. She pouts, but she listens, sitting back on her heels, smug and satisfied, before stretching her arms over her head, languid and unbothered. Then, just as easily, she steps off the bed, stretching like a cat, unbothered, like this was nothing more than a game to her.
"Yeah," you say, somehow steady. "I'm fine."
Through the phone, you hear Eunbi giggling, the sound of footsteps, her friends chattering in the background. She's walking to her next class. Completely unaware. The girlfriend who trusts you, who saves you a seat at lunch, who helps you study for tests you're barely passing.
"Okay," she says. "I'll see you at lunch then, babe. Love you."
Silence lingers. A pause that stretches too long.
You should say it back. You need to. But then, you look up.
Chaewon's standing at her closet, slipping on fresh clothes. Her ass is in clear view, the length of her body stretching as she moves, her legs lean and smooth. Her messy tank top clings to her body, damp with sweat, a streak of dried cum still visible on the fabric.
Your mouth feels dry. Your brain short-circuits, caught between what you should feel and what you do feel.
"I love you too," you manage to say, through everything weighing on you, and the call ends with a soft beep.
Chaewon turns to face you.
And she gives you a look.
Not smug. Not teasing.
Just dirty. Unreadable. Something dark and lingering in her eyes.
She doesn't say a word. Just grabs her shorts, turns, and walks out to the bathroom.
The door shuts.
You sit there, still gripping your phone, staring at the space she left behind. Your pulse won't slow down. Not from the panic. Not from the guilt. Not from the fact that even now, even after all of it—you still want her.
Your skin burns, your body tense, still stuck in it. Still feeling it. What you shouldn't have done. But you did. And the worst part? Some fucked-up part of you knows that if she pulled you back into that bed, you wouldn't stop her.
You should feel worse. You should hate yourself.
But Chaewon's still hot as fuck, and that's the problem.
AN: This was originally going to be a longer fic, but I ended up with a newer Chaewon idea, and she’s my ult bias so i cut this down to just the sex.
Sorry to all the Eunbi fans, dw she’ll get her own
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makkir0ll · 1 year ago
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"you have really long eyelashes"
it catches him off guard. you guys are just laying in your bed scrolling on your own phones. he didn't even feel you staring at him. how long have you been looking?
"thanks?" he replies
"no i mean seriously like drop the lash serum." you joke at him as you continue to observe him.
they're long and thick. the kind of lashes that have a natural curl, unlike yours, that fall straight down and take several minutes to curl to your perfect liking. not to mention the layers of mascara you apply to get them to even remotely look like his.
he turns his head to you and you don't miss his dilated pupils as his eyes bore into yours. you take note of how the lashes perfectly frame his eyes. and you're so jealous.
but then an idea pops into your head, you smile to yourself and he senses it coming.
"can i-"
"no" he cuts you off.
"babe please you don't even know what i was about to say!" you grab onto his shoulder as you plead.
"whatever it is im sure it's going to be bad." he retorts, turning his face away from you and going back on his phone.
"i'll buy you you're favorite food."
and that's how you end up here on his lap with your mascara in your hand. his hair is pushed back as his hands rest on your hips, drawing small circles as he awaits your actions.
you open the bottle with the black liquid and bring the wand close to his eyes. "don't move" you whisper and he listens. mainly because he's scared that you're going to poke his eye out as you bring the wand to the base of his eyelashes and wiggle it slowly before moving it up to coat the length of the lashes. some of the mascara gets on his eyelids. you repeat the actions on the other eye before going back and doing a second coat. you can tell that he might be slightly nervous that you're going to blind him with the way he holds his breath and the grip he has on your hips get ever so slightly tighter.
you move yourself off his lap and he goes to grab his phone so he can see what he looks like.
"wait no not yet, i'm still not done" you say as you go and grab ur q-tips and micellar water.
"still?"
"yes still, i need to clean up the mascara on your eyelids," you say as you place yourself back on his lap. you open the bottle of micellar water and carefully put the clear liquid on the q-tip. you bring the white stick of cotton to his eyes and you tell him to close them. he feels the wet cotton and it's a weird feeling. you watch the q-tip turn darker the more mascara you wipe off.
"okay i'm done!" you say and he opens his eyes and you don't think he's ever looked more majestic. his already long lashes looking even longer and bolder now that he has the mascara to bring them out. you notice that the color of his eyes pop more. "you look so pretty" you smile as lean in to pepper kisses along his face. his cheeks feel warm and he can already tell that they're probably red.
he reaches over to his phone and opens the camera app and switches the camera so he can see himself. and he immediatly notices the stark difference in his eyes with the mascara. he brings his fingers to his lashes to touch them. it feels weird and his eyes kind of feel weighed down. but he has no regrets when he sees you smiling at him so fondly.
"they look nice." he smiles at you, dropping his phone to the side.
"i know right, ugh im so jealous i wish i had your lashes. all my problems would be solved." you say, thinking about the long and excruciating lash routine you perform every morning.
"all of them?"
"yes, all of them."
he chuckles at your words. "alright, but can you take it off now, it feels weird." he says, hands coming to touch his lashes again. you pout as you grab the micellar water you put away and a cotton pad and remove the mascara from his eyelashes, being gentle so that he doesn't lose a few. he appreciates the action. and maybe he would let you put more than just mascara on his face another day.
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KAGEYAMA (has the best lashes argue with the wall), suna, tsukishima (genuinely terrified that you're going to make him go blind), OSAMU, kuroo, MATSUKAWA MY LOVE, iwaizumi, OIKAWA (he would eat that shit up), akaashi, kenma, +ur fav.
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babeforjjmaybanks · 4 months ago
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his heart, her wishlist ༘₊ ͟͟͞͞꒰➳
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pairing: bestfriend!jj x girly!femreader 𝝑𝑒
summary: jj showers his bestfriend in gifts and affection, spoiling her and giving her whatever she wants. one peaceful afternoon she has a rather odd request, but she always gets what she wants.
warning(s): jj has some suggestive thoughts, making out, love bites, ear pulling, hand slapping, reader threatens to cry & is kind of sensitive, accidental lip biting, no smut!
mentions of: jayj, y/n, gorgeous, reader is called needy, babydoll, pretty girl, ma'am, princess & prince charming 𝝑𝑒
a/n: idk why but i'm a sucker for bestfriend!jj & I hope you are too!! enjoy & leave notes <3
word count: 1770
divider by: @h-aewo
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the bell above the door jingled as they entered the boutique, she couldn’t help but grin as the familiar scent of fresh candles and polished wood filled the air. shopping with jj had become her favorite kind of outing, not just because he always made it fun, but because—let’s be honest—he never minded picking up the tab when she found something she liked.
“jayj,” she said, her voice light but full of excitement. “I’m running low on my favorite lotion," she slightly pouts. "can we stop by the beauty aisle?” she didn’t even look back, already making her way toward the shelves of creams and serums, practically skipping as she walked.
jj chuckled and followed her, his hands in his pockets. “y/n, you’ve got enough lotions to last until the end of the year,” he teased, but his tone was fond.
she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “I know, but the strawberry-scented one they have here are just so much better than the ones I have at home. plus, I deserve it, don’t you think?” she flashed him a playful grin, batting her eyelashes for extra effect.
jj smiled, unable to resist. “okay, okay,” he said, grabbing the bottle off the shelf and tossing it into her cart. “you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
she smiled sweetly, her fingers lightly tracing the top of the bottle. “you spoil me too much,” she said softly, her tone sincere. “but I can’t help it—you always know exactly what I need before I do.”
they wandered down another aisle, and she couldn’t resist eyeing a row of dainty jewelry. she picked up a gold bracelet and held it up to the light. “what do you think?” she asked, her voice a little quieter now. “I don’t need it, but I’d love to have something new to wear to the fro-yo shop later.”
jj gave a knowing smile, already picking it up and slipping it into her cart. “you’re impossible,” he said with a laugh, but his voice had a warmth to it. “but, of course, you can have it. It looks great on you.”
y/n’s cheeks flushed slightly as she beamed at him, her voice softening. “thank you, jayj. you’re really the best.”
he raised an eyebrow but his smile never wavered. “I know, I know. you say that every time I buy you something.”
she nudged him playfully, her hand brushing against his arm. “I mean it. I’m lucky to have a bestfriend like you.”
jj’s smile softened, and for a moment, they stood there, just enjoying the moment. maybe she was a little spoiled, but jj didn’t mind—he liked seeing her happy. after all, it wasn’t just about the things he bought for her. It was about the way she made everything feel just a little bit brighter.
she eyed the shelf with the latest scents, her eyes glistened at the vanilla cream puff perfume with the cutest bottle. jj, without missing a beat, grabbed it from the display and tossed it into her cart that he was carrying. “anything else, princess?"
"okay prince charming, how'd you know—" he placed a finger to her lips and shushed her, "I always know babydoll, it's the bestfriend senses." he used his free hand to tap his temple and winked at her. y/n, not amused, bit down on his finger. jj pretended to be hurt and was surprisingly a good actor, hearing him wince set off a tinge in y/n's heart.
"did I actually hurt you? I'm sorry jayj!" she grabbed his hand and kissed his finger, a blush spread across his face. "I— you didn't hurt me, sorry I was being dramatic, it's okay." he pulled her into a hug and embraced her tightly. her skin was warm and she smelled like fresh pastries.
"oh my gosh, I'm literally gonna cry you scared me!" she pouts and shoves him playfully. "I know I know, I won't do it again, pinky promise." he picked up the cart and grabbed her hand, interlocking their pinkys and not letting go as they walk over to the register.
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"can't believe you're asking me for fro-yo when I know you’ve had two desserts already today?” jj teased her.
she put on her most innocent expression, her lips curling into a sweet, almost apologetic smile. “I’m just making sure I’m well-balanced. you know, fruit, yogurt… a little bit of indulgence. It’s all about moderation.”
jj couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes. “you're silly, but fine. one stop at the fro-yo shop won’t kill me.”
she grinned, looping her arm through his as they made their way to the small fro-yo place down the street in the plaza. the familiar neon sign flickered ahead, and the sweet, tangy scent of frozen yogurt wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble.
once inside, she immediately headed for the counter, eyes wide as she scanned the flavor options. “I’m thinking rasberry and white chocolate cheesecake, with all the toppings. what do you think?”
“surprise me,” jj said, already reaching for his wallet. he had learned by now that when it came to his bestfriend, it was best to let her make the decisions. besides, he always enjoyed seeing her so happy, especially when it involved something as simple as frozen yogurt.
“got it,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “but I’ll probably add extra sprinkles and a few gummy bears for good measure.”
jj chuckled as she went to work on her fro-yo masterpiece, carefully layering the flavors and toppings in what could only be described as a work of art. as she finished, she looked at him with a mischievous grin. “well, don’t you think it’s perfect?”
“I think you have a serious sweet tooth,” he replied, but he was already ordering his own cup. “I’ll have the plain vanilla with some strawberries and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. please.”
y/n laughed and took a bite of her fro-yo, savoring the sweetness. “you really are the complete opposite of me, aren’t you?”
“you’re the fun one,” he said, giving her a playful smile. “I’m the boring one who just wants his yogurt without a bunch of candy on top.” even though they both knew he was far from boring, today was one of those days it was all about her.
she shrugged with a grin. “you say that, but you keep buying me things like candy, jewelry, and endless fro-yo. I think deep down, you like it.”
jj smirked, sitting down beside her at one of the small tables. “maybe,” he said, taking a spoonful of his yogurt. “but if you weren’t so fun to spoil, I wouldn’t do it so often.”
y/n's smile softened, her heart feeling a little warmer at his words. she sat back, letting the cool sweetness of the fro-yo take over, and for a moment, everything felt perfect her—and jj, enjoying their favorite treats, without a care in the world.
and though she knew she might be a little spoiled, she couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like jj by her side.
jj on the other hand, completely forgot about the fro-yo. his eyes wandered around his bestfriends face, eyes focused on the way her lips wrapped around the pink plastic spoon. jj cursed himself for having such thoughts about his bestfriend, but he couldn't help it, she was so gorgeous.
"you're gorgeous, you know that?" jj didn't realize what he was saying until he actually heard himself saying it. "that was so random!" y/n laughs and playfully slaps his hand that was resting on the table. "ouch? I can't tell my bestfriend she's pretty?" he put a hand over his heart and shook his head. "of course you can but not while i'm eating fro-yo." she smiles at him, and he smiles back.
they always smile when they're together.
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"alright pretty girl, time to get you home yeah?" jj said as he was opening the passenger side door for her.
she sat down in the seat comfortably, almost like it was made for her. which, actually, it was. jj made sure she had the comfiest seat, a head rest, and her name was even on it.
and nobody else was allowed to sit in it.
jj sat down in the drivers seat and turned on the car, watching as y/n connected her phone and started playing her favorite playlist. he lowered her window, watching as her eyes glistened under the street lights. he moved his hand to rest on her thigh, as he always does and of course y/n didn't have a problem with it. she let out a small giggle and placed her hand on top of his.
it didn't take long to arrive at her house, jj pulled into the driveway of the clean house, staring at the garden they were working on not too long ago that was bountiful with flowers and bushes.
"jayj?" she called his name out softly.
"ma'am?" he turned his head to look at her.
"I love you, you know that right?" she grabbed his hand and interlocked their fingers. "yeah I know, I love you too." he smiled at her and raised his eyebrow, "you need somethin?"
"well.." she paused and bit her lip nervously.
"what is it babydoll?" jj tightened his grip on her hand, his expression now a worried one. "can I.. get a kiss?"
jj swore his heart stopped beating, was he dreaming? did his bestfriend actually ask him to kiss her? he must've heard wrong.
"you want me to kiss you?" his voice was soft, but uncertain. she could only nod her head at him, visibly flustered. "okay, whatever you want."
he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, cupping her face gently and rubbing his thumb across her cheekbone. leaning in, he presses his soft lips against hers. he slowly pulled away, but something was keeping him there. telling him he might not ever get this opportunity again.
he pressed their lips together once more, this time sweet and passionate. her arms wrapped around his neck, getting lost in the heat of their bodies and the taste of fro-yo. maybe a little too lost.. because she accidentally bit him.
"shit— i'm sorry! oh my gosh i'm so embarrassed." y/n cupped her hand over her mouth mentally screaming at herself. but instead of being freaked out, he laughed. "someone got a little carried away huh?" she shoved him again as laughter filled the car.
"jayj, can you stay the night?"
"'course I can, whatever you want." 𝝑𝑒
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d1xonss · 1 year ago
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Okay so, lately, I have been obssesed with young Daryl. Would you like writing a super fluffy fic where reader teaches Daryl about skincare and at the begining he's like 'why the hell are you putting that in your face?' but then at the end he is helping her in the most delicate manner posible. Like the look of love of this man while taking care of you... he just makes me faint.
Hope you like the idea and keep writing because you are so good! x
Potions
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Pre-apocalypse
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Fluff
✧ Word Count : 1.8k
AN ~ Yess I love this idea! Thank you so much for requesting it and thank you for all the love on my last oneshot as a whole. I didn’t think a lot of people would like it as much as they did, but all the feedback was so sweet! Again, I tried my best with this one and hopefully I could capture what you envisioned. Hope you enjoy!
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Cleanser, moisturizer, serum, and sunscreen. Those were just the few of many steps when it came to your skincare routine that you had grown accustomed to.
Your skin was something that you were quite proud of, the years of taking care of it diligently were really paying off as it was always smooth and had some kind of a natural glow. You would get compliments here and there and questions about how you always kept your face looking so young and beautiful. And you of course would always give out any advice, products, or tips to others who asked because in all honesty it was just a simple routine.
The light in the bathroom flickered on as you reached your hand out to flip the switch, standing in front of the mirror and pulling your hair back to finally get settled in for the night after what felt like an impossibly long day. Your eyes glanced up to see your face a little more upclose, subconsciously grabbing the makeup remover first to clean all of it off your features.
It wasn’t that often you wore makeup but when you did it was always just something simple. Mascara, blush, filling in your eyebrows. But what really was your favorite part was wearing some type of lipstick or lip gloss on your perfectly plump lips. Your only reason as to why it was your favorite was so at some point in the day, you could pull your boyfriend in for a kiss on the cheek, only to pull back and see the residue of your lips. He however would groan and playfully shoo you away as he wiped his cheek to see whatever color you had on staining his palm. But the small smile playing on his own lips would tell you that he secretly loved it.
You reached up towards your eye to gently remove the mascara from your eyelashes, before discarding the cotton pad in the trashcan below. Then copying the same actions to your eyebrows, you removed any pencil that was left before throwing that cotton away as well. You then briefly rinsed your face with water, before pulling out your drawer full of products to use in a specific order.
The cleanser was always first since your face had to be a little wet, applying it gently all over your skin before leaning back down and rinsing it off completely. Toner came after, dabbing a little product in another cotton pad before dragging it over your face and neck to make sure you didn’t miss any lingering dirt that could still be there. Then it was serum, dripping a little from the dropper over different sections before lightly dragging it out until everything felt even.
It was always this part where you felt your face was especially shiny and glowing, taking a second to look at it glistening in the dim light. Until your eyes lingered to some movement just behind you, seeing Daryl’s figure standing in the doorway as he watched you intently.
You gasped a little at his sudden presence as you weren’t expecting him to be there, laughing a little to yourself as you placed a hand over your heart and turned to face him now. “Jesus,” you breathed, “You scared me half to death.”
His face turned a bit sheepish as that was never his intention, he just simply wanted to watch whatever girly thing you were doing before heading to bed, “Sorry.” he said as he slowly passed through the threshold.
“It’s okay. Just give me a few more minutes and I’ll be done.” you said before turning to face the mirror again.
You half expected him to leave and just wait for you in your shared bedroom, but he didn’t. He placed himself right next to you as his eyes moved towards the mirror as well, but only to watch your movements as you attempted to put on eye cream. He squinted a little as he watched you, thinking silently to himself for what felt like a long while.
As a guy, he never really understood things like this, though he went along with it because it clearly made you happy. But tonight apparently he was full of questions, wanting you to tell him everything about your little potions that sat out on the bathroom counter.
“The hell you puttin on yer face?”
Perhaps that was the wrong thing to just blurt, but he couldn’t help it as genuine confusion filled him seeing as you didn’t need anything like this to be “beautiful.” He always thought you were perfect.
Though you laughed at his bluntness, rubbing in the cream under your eyes as you looked at his face in the mirror, “It’s my skincare routine.” you said simply.
His brows remained furrowed as he was still left in the dark. “I’ve been doing it since before we even got together, Daryl.” you said as your eyes moved to look at your own features.
He hummed a little, more to himself as he thought back to if he had ever seen you do this before like you claimed. Had he really been that dense about it?
“Well, uh…what’re they supposed to do?” he asked.
You smiled as your eyes locked with his again, “They just help keep your skin healthy and clean.” you said as you reached for your moisturizer, your final step, “Why? You wanna try?” you asked playfully.
He scoffed and shook his head as he leaned down a bit on the counter, continuing to watch you with his head in his hands, “Nah, watchin you do it is enough for me.”
You rolled your eyes a bit, though you didn’t push further as you finished rubbing the cream into your cheeks. Though silently you wished Daryl would do something for his skin, you believed that everyone should. The sun was your biggest concern for him. Although you loved his little sunspots all over his face and the slight redness he would sometimes get on his cheeks and nose, you wished he at least wore sunscreen if anything at all. But it was no secret the man was stubborn, but maybe, just maybe, you would be able to convince him.
“Okay,” you said as you finally finished and began putting the products away, “I’ll make you a deal. You don’t have to do face masks with me anymore, if you promise to put on some sunscreen everyday before work.” you wagered.
You watched as his eyes narrowed at you playfully, thinking about his options in his head before finally sighing in defeat and standing back up to his full height, “Alright, fine.” he agreed.
“Yay!” you silently cheered as you leaned forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him further into you.
He smiled to himself as he hugged your waist tight, resting his chin on your shoulder. If you asked him, he didn’t need anything to keep his skin “healthy” because he didn’t necessarily care about any of that quite like you did. But he would do just about anything for you, anything to make you happy, and anything to even catch a glimpse of your smile.
Which is why he reluctantly pulled away with a quiet groan, “And I’ll…still do facemasks with ya anyway.” he said almost regrettably.
Your mouth dropped in surprise, “Really?”
“Yeah,” he huffed with a small returning smile, “As long as they make me pretty after, I guess they’re alright.”
You tilted your head a bit to the side as your hand came up to trail your thumb against his cheekbone, “But you’re already pretty.”
“...Not as pretty as you, sweet girl.” he corrected, coming in close to place a kiss on your cheek.
But your hand coming up quickly to stop him is what caused him to be slightly taken aback, “Wait, wait,” you giggled as you kept his face away from yours, “I just finished my skincare, have you learned nothing?” you playfully asked him, “Besides the moisturizer will get on your lips, I don’t think you wanna kiss me there.”
He sighed in faux annoyance as his eyes traveled down a bit, “Well, can I kiss ya here?” he asked as you felt his thumb come up to run along your bottom lip gently.
You smiled with a small nod, “Yes.”
He smirked before finally closing the distance between you two, his lips overlapping yours in a sweet kiss as his hands ran up and down your back slowly. You hummed into his mouth as his lips felt heavenly against your own, feeling him pull away to place one more peck on your parted mouth before fully stepping back.
“Alright, come on now, we gotta get ya to bed for yer beauty sleep.” he teased as he suddenly bent down and grabbed you by your legs, swinging your upper half over his shoulder as he carried you out of the bathroom.
“Daryl!” you cried as you laughed at his sudden fast actions, hearing him let out a chuckle himself as he carried you all the way up the stairs while swaying you back and forth playfully.
After that night Daryl fulfilled his promise, letting you put sunscreen over his cheeks and nose right before he headed off to work each morning to ease your mind. And he still occasionally allowed you to put a face mask on him, seeing how much it brought you joy to have someone to do it with. But also he had to admit, it made his face feel a little softer afterwards.
The only thing that changed in your routine since that night is that Daryl would now always follow you into the bathroom when it was time to put on all your “potions” as he called them. Except he wasn’t the one watching you do all the work, but instead, he applied everything for you. He insisted on it in fact. He always wanted to take care of you and this was no different, in fact he thought it was fun.
It was also fun for you as well as you agreed to his request, sitting yourself up on the counter as he applied everything like you usually would. You had to walk him through the steps the first few times, but after that he was a natural. He was always so delicate as his slightly rough fingertips glided effortlessly across your skin. Your favorite part however, was opening your eyes occasionally to watch his face as it was full of concentration, seeing his tongue slip out a little at times as he focused. You thought it was absolutely adorable.
And every time he was done, without fail, he would always look at you so lovingly it nearly made you melt into a puddle. His eyes so clearly held so much love for you, you found yourself thinking how you had the best man in the entire world. Though you always wanted to know what he was thinking when he stared at you like this, finally one night opening your mouth to ask.
“What?” you voiced a bit playfully as your head tilted to the side.
He shrugged his shoulders as his eyes remained the same, “Nothin…just so beautiful.” he practically whispered.
Your lips stretched into a bashful smile as you couldn’t help but blush. Yeah, best man in the entire world.
~ Thanks for reading!
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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 1 year ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.
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pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader
summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing. 
trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies.
trigger warnings (in this part): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies, mentions of gaining weight and wearing a corset (patrick bateman vibes), i really hope it doesn't seem like bodyshaming, reader has problems only with her own body.
prologue.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒.
another day. another chance to win him over. 
y/n could be named for many things: a filthy liar, a nepo-baby, a psychopath or simply a crazy girl, but she was never, ever lazy. waking up, she always had the same routine: getting out from the bed, changing into her underwear she wore the day before, making her hair up into a bun, spreading carbon on her teeth to be white as marble. working out, even if it hurt, because how could she be the best wife ever for coriolanus if she was lazy and out of shape? through workout, she thought about who she is. i am y/n y/l/n, youngest member of the house y/l/n. we are noble, i am noble, and i deserve everything what i have now. i am beautiful, clever and nobody can ever drag me down. the people who hate me are only envious of my life, my body and my mind, but they’re all going to soil. i love the life i have, and i will appreciate every single second of the life i will have when i achieve my goals. i have every tool i can use to win, and i will use them to be the woman i want to be. it’s not far away, and everyday is a chance to be closer to the woman i want to be.
after that, taking a bath, scrubbing her body with a sponge, so her skin would always be silky, using her razor to get rid of the unwanted, ugly hair on her body. smearing vanilla and rose oil onto her skin: vanilla for being gentle, and rose for coriolanus. brushing her teeth, washing down the charcoal, washing teeth with the regular toothpaste. sitting in front of her dressing table, picking her eyebrow, putting cosmetic oils and serums on her cleavage, her neck and her face. while letting it dry, picking out the outfit of the day, calling in her maid, hortense to help her with the corset if she felt that she gained too much weight because of the medicine, or was on her period. y/n hated so-called red days, and waited for the day when she could bear her husband’s children. putting her clothes on, sitting at the dressing table again, her maid helped her if she wanted a special hairstyle. checking her manicure, it was now soft pink, it’ll match with her clothes. making her hair, she did her makeup, curling her eyelashes, putting a little chili on her lips to be so full –it hurt like hell, but how could she be perfect if she didn’t put effort in it?, whilst repeating another list in her mind. this was for coriolanus. 
be kind with him, but never too kind. be kind and modest with everybody else, so they won’t notice it. agree with him in the things that are important, but also speak your mind if he seems doubtful. speak your feelings to convince him, you are important to him. always accept his help, but don’t make redundant situations, don’t look like the damsel in distress. make him feel special, let him be the man he is, make him feel that you support him and his plans, but never make too big promises. don’t look pathetic, don’t show your emotions too much. never talk about him to others, only if they mention him, talk good about him, and talk bad about others if it’s needed. don’t make a scene if something doesn’t work your way, it will sooner or later. take action when it’s the right time. 
applying lipstick as the last step, she was ready to step out from home. y/n knew she had a strict routine, but doing mornings on autopilot let her think about more important things, like her daily plans. first destination was the school where coriolanus was, but first, she needed to get her papers after graduating, after that they’re gonna have lunch together, and then, she’ll look for the letters to see if volumnia gaul accepted her application. probably she will, she knows her entire family, how great they are, and she probably heard about y/n herself too. 
“good morning ms. y/l/n, how are you?” lacy, her sister’s maid asked her as she carried the laundry in a big basket through the hallway on the ground floor. 
“i slept well, lacy, thank you. where is my sister?” 
“your sister, morphia went to arrange the flowers and the cake for her marriage. i am so happy for her, ms. y/l/n!” 
y/n couldn’t decide if lacy was truly happy or just acting. but she wasn’t a threat, so y/n didn’t care. 
“me too, lacy.” 
her father was sitting at the head of the table, reading the tabloids, her mother, lorelei was eating some eggs with meat, some gin in her glass on the side. 
“this pheasant is really good, cyril.” she mentioned, looking up to see her youngest child. “oh, my sweet, y/n! good morning.” 
“good morning, mommy.” she said, giving her a kiss on the cheek, going to her father, she waited until he stopped reading the tabloid and looked at her. her father, cyril y/l/n was really strict, but not as strict as crassus snow. once, after her father made her burn the flowers she tore off from their garden and beat her, her mother stroked her cheek, saying “oh, honey, don’t be sad. your father is a good man, not like crassus snow. i think you should be glad that you don’t have him as your father.” so this way, y/n was happy. or so her mother thought. 
“good morning, father.” she told him too, giving him a kiss on the cheek too. she could do that until she was eighteen, after that, only the greeting was acceptable. y/n saw once, when morphia tried to kiss her father when she passed eighteen, she got slapped across the face. but they were happy, weren’t they? 
“how’s your application with gaul?” he asked as y/n sat down. 
“i handed it in yesterday. probably a letter will wait for me in the afternoon.” 
“why, what will you do today?” 
“cyril, i already told you that! your butler even wrote it down for you!” her mother whined, looking at her daughter. y/n took a slice of bread, reaching for the butter and the knife. 
“don’t mind it, mother. i’m going to the school to get my graduating papers, then have lunch with coriolanus, and then–”
“coriolanus snow? that boy and his family are broke, his father was gullible and got killed by the rebellion. why are you humbling yourself in his presence?” 
control. control your face, your hands. y/n’s fist curled around the knife tighter, grabbing it with real force. 
“i know, but he has great talent. and he’s gonna be the next president of panem.” she replied calmly, looking at him. sometimes she fantasized about stabbing him there, at the head of the table. 
“president of panem? y/n, you are so amusing when you say things like this. but i truly hope your words will become reality someday. crassus wasn’t gullible, everybody was afraid through the first rebellion.” his face softened, just as he spoke to a three year old. 
“yes, honey! your father doesn’t doubt you, he’s just amazed at what you are saying.” her mother added, sipping on her gin, batting her lashes. it wasn’t even ten in the morning, as she was already wasted. after eating the slice of bread, y/n stood up, hiding the knife into her sleeve. 
“i’m going out, but i’m gonna be here for the letter. please don’t open up before me.” she asked, making her father look up. 
“hortense is going to bring it to your room.” 
“thank you, father.” 
“honey, you didn’t even touch the caviar and the honey, please eat some more!” 
kissing her mother’s cheek again, y/n looked at her. she got her eyes, her mother was truly beautiful when she was young, acrimonious lips talked cyril only married lorelei because of her looks. nevertheless, the creed family was also noble, y/n only had to bear festus’ horrible personality twice a year, christmas and the reaping. 
“don’t worry mommy, i’ll be fine.” 
she could work easily with an empty stomach, getting back to her room, preparing her bag. looking at the medicines, she put the bottle under her clothes. she didn’t need these pills that made her useless, slow and lazy anyway, she needed something else… and she knew her horrible cousin, festus got that white, powdery thing. grabbing the butterknife from under her sleeve, she touched it. it was the worst knife ever, blunt and short, like some of the fighters in the games. y/n loved her father, respected him and counted on his words, but questioning her and laughing at her, it was the exception if it came to love and respect. and if her father is doubting her again, she will–
funk! well, who thought that people could stick butter knives into the wall? 
arriving at the school, showing her papers that she was a private student, the secretary gave out her graduation stuff. nodding, the secretary told some things, but her mind was focused on finding festus. going to the main hall, everybody whore red, y/n was the only outstander with her black skirt, soft pink blouse and black blazer. every school uniform was truly awful, the capitol is the wealthiest in all panem, couldn’t they make it a little bit more… pleasant? it’s a shame that every fabric is on their hand, available, and still, they style it horrible. nevermind, festus was there, chatting with that bitch arachne and that fucker pliny harrington. 
“hey, festus, hey, everybody. can we talk for a minute?” she turned to her cousin. festus looked at her, smirked, then looked at the others. 
“of course. sorry, it’s only a minute.” he said to them, walking to one of the corners with y/n. leaning to one of the marble piles, he dug his hands into his pockets. “so, what do you want?”
“why are you asking me so pitiless?” y/n blinked at him. for some people, formality in family could seem heartless, but she was relieved that she didn't need to waste her time if she didn't want to.
“you talk to me only if you need something.” 
“me? don’t be ridiculous, i helped with all your assignments in school, what would your mother say if she heard that?” y/n couldn’t be a big gamer if she didn’t knew the connections in her environment perfectly well. seeing how festus’ face became a little bit rigid, she continued. “anyway, i want from that white dust you gave me last time.”
she couldn’t even carve a wider grin on his face, even if she wanted to.
“so you liked it? it’s better than your stupid pills.” y/n had a poker face, but she wondered how he got to know. “you’re not the only one who knows things in the family.” fucker, you don’t even know everything, yet you still play like you’re the most clever. the funny thing is that it ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble, no. it's what you know for sure that just ain't so.
“i have business somewhere else soon, can i get it or not?”
“it will cost some money, but i am always happy to help my family.” oh, fuck off. y/n reached her hand like she wanted to shake hands with him, and this way, demand and supply met. “if you drink some of it, it’ll be better. you are a crazy bitch y/n, but if snow really will be the president, remember me as one of your biggest supporters.” he smiled. “oh, and volumnia heard some of his great ideas about getting more audience for the games. if you’ll work for her, that ugly power couple thing can be really dangerous.” what ideas? she knew it was a problem that the game wasn't so popular, and he thought that coriolanus wasn’t so interested in that. of course, until now, because big money was at stake, and everybody was prowling around the corner. y/n curled the corner of her lips up under duress, bidding goodbye to festus. she wasn’t gonna take it now, she used it only for emergencies.
now, she could completely focus on coriolanus. where was he? walking to the other long hallway, looking around, he was nowhere despite that they stuck to eleven am yesterday. suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulder, making her turn. 
“there you are!” there he was. y/n could look at him for an eternity, could he look better under eleven hours? everything about him was perfect, from the way he looked to the point he talked, and y/n almost tasted the sweetness when his mind was forming those clever, great thoughts. and his looks? she knew they could have the most precious children; angel blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled jawline she could kiss a million times, his body was sculpted by the gods who were looking down on them, and she prayed every night to the deities so they could be each other’s one day. in y/n’s mind, coriolanus wasn’t just a boy or a soon-to-be-man. no, he was the base of everything, he had everything that y/n needed, and y/n was raised truly the best way. nobody else could get in the near of the perfection he formed, and y/n could see the future. the future, where they marry, she is in the longest, most beautiful white dress full with gemstones like rubies, sapphires, diamonds and emeralds, vowing endless loyalty to each other, the whole world is envious of the wealth they have. the future, where he becomes the president of panem, leading the nation with a strong hand and making decisions with a strong mind, while y/n helped to make the games more impressive, more dangerous, more cruel, but first of all, supporting him in everything, even if she has to get her hands dirty. the future, where she was pregnant with his children, naming them ancient names so they could mirror the same noble qualities those deities had, raising them the best way so they could even outgrow them, perfect people. “how was your morning?”
the future they could have. the future they WILL have. 
“hello, corio. mine was pretty good, got my graduating papers. how was your day so far?” 
“it was… good, i guess? this mentoring thing is new for everyone, i spent all night thinking how lucy gray could win.” 
that name, again. keep it cool. 
“i’m sure you will think it out. shall we go and eat lunch?” 
sitting in a gorgeous, golden restaurant, y/n chose a corner for them to sit in. when their food arrived, she waited for him to speak. it seemed like something was itching his mind, and she was one of his best friends, wasn't she? corio looked to the side, then at her, then took a bite from his lunch. let’s break the ice. 
“is everything okay, corio?”
“yes, yes, everything’s fine. is it… on my face?” 
“well, since i…” don’t make it too personal. “...since we know each other so well, i see worry on your face. you can tell me everything.” 
“it’s… it’s gonna be really, really embarrassing for me, but… so, y/n, it’d be my pleasure if… you’d come with me on a date?”
clawing on her thigh, was this reality? was coriolanus really, really asking her out in this glorious place? was she truly worthy of his love? moderating her grin to a smile, she looked at him. he was truly a love-child of an angel and a god, and while y/n was truly a masterpiece herself, it was the biggest honor for her to get into the grace of this guy. now, the idea of the wedding and the best imaginable life wasn’t so far away. did the gods hear her prayers above, and saw the list she created? 
“forget it, y/n, i know i’m not–” coriolanus tried to hush the previous idea with an embarrassed look on his face, but y/n shook her head. obviously, her mind wandered for too long. 
“no, no! of course i’d go on a date with you. with pleasure.” y/n smiled, slowly reaching for his hand that was on the table. they touched each other frequently before, but not like this. she hated a part of herself, the part that could melt under his touch and got dizzy from only his skin. but truly, she could eat it up if she could. 
“oh, okay, well… i just… thought that it’s embarrassing, because you pay for all of this, and–” never let a man’s pride falter. it’s the firewood for the campfire, the pressure for the diamond, the water for the plants. if you feed a man’s ego, he’ll trust and love you. 
“corio, dear, please. i’m not with you because of your money, we can’t do anything about our past and families. and you’re gonna win the plinth-prize, so what are we worrying about?” 
“but–” y/n hushed him gently, playing her finger in front of her lips. 
“i’m sure you will win that prize. why, who else would win it? the daughter of an energy secretary? or a rich, spoiled kid?”
“they are all rich and spoiled.” y/n totally let pass the fact that she was too. but what was the problem with it, really? they couldn’t do anything about it, you can’t decide where you were born. a person can change everything about itself, but not its origin. it always stays with you, clinging onto your ankle, to drag with yourself everywhere. in this life, they got on the winning side of the wheel. and who cares about the next life? 
“but no one’s father is a general, except you. and i know that you didn’t like him, but keep the mindset.” 
“you are so clever, y/n. thank you for always putting my mind into it’s place.”
“i’m just telling the truth. and… how are things with the game? is it hard?” 
“oh, it’s… i still need to figure out some things. but i had some ideas about ways to get people more engaged in the games, like getting them sponsors, or interviewing the tributes so the viewers can get closer to them, pick a favorite, some things like this.” 
“it sounds really interesting, did volumnia hear these things?” as much as she hated festus’ bragging, he also mentioned things that she could use. maybe that’s why everybody got rid of her so fast at a big gathering like the graduation two days ago. she never had ‘juicy tea’ or some things like that, only if she wanted to get something. and when she wanted to get something, the chamber of secrets instantly opened. 
“yeah, well she came in when we were discussing those things. she said that i need to write it down, and then clemensia interrupted that we’ve always worked and brainstormed together, so we can write that together, too.” 
totaling another pen, dovecote? being a tricky bitch, i wasn’t expecting less from you. 
“i think volumnia should know that the idea was yours. clemensia is your good friend, but why wasn’t she just cheering that you got the gamemaker’s attention?” plant the seed. maybe not with clemensia, she will do it for herself, but anyway. coriolanus needed to know the truth. 
“i will talk with her about this.” he won’t. he’s too kind-hearted for it. “and i’ll write down my ideas. anyway, how’s your application for volumnia gaul? did you hand it in?” y/n nodded at his question, chewing on the potatoes. 
“got handed it in yesterday. i really hope if i go home this afternoon, a letter will be waiting for me.” the smile on his face was worth everything. what could that mouth do if there were only the two of them? because she knew what her mouth could do. 
“i’m sure she’ll hire you. one of your thesis got onto her table, remember? the one you wrote about the possible content of venom in mono– and dicotyledons. and if she’s not, then she’s a dingbat.” y/n remembered that thesis, her brain always burned out from the three-day long insomnia. 
“careful, corio! i hope she doesn’t have ears everywhere.” that woman was the queen on her chess table, it was the side that could never be decided. 
all the way home, she thought about coriolanus. y/n gotta hide the grin she was forming with her lips when she was driving home with the chauffeur of the family. all the effort, all the pain… it was worth it. she almost teared up from the joy, but her mascara was really expensive, even her mother thought that it was too rich for their blood.
“is everything alright, miss y/l/n?” helius, their private driver asked, looking into the rear-view mirror. y/n nodded, exhaling and inhaling. big news like this always messed with her head. nodding, everything was perfect. 
stepping inside the house, she raced up to her room immediately. there was the letter, persephone slept beside it. picking it up, y/n used her nails to tear it up. she never waited for news like this. the sooner she knew, the sooner she could got suit in the new situation. 
dear y/n y/l/n, you got accepted…
throwing it away, she instantly picked up persephone, screaming into her fur. persephone meowed, already used to her owner’s insane habits. anyway, the food was tasty in the house, so why not bear it? 
“you hear this, persephone? the lucky star is shining on us.” she whispered to the cat, stroking her head. she couldn't sit back, not now. not when good things, the reward of the hard work could be felt. not when everything worked for her plans. “mother and father will be so happy. and we are happy too, aren't we?” 
y/n didn't know happiness, only when her heart got fast and drug-like feeling curled in her blood. but now, she got to be a predator. a predator who sat for hours, days to catch its prey. when news were coming in, things always changed. she had to be patient, but she couldn't get lazy, not now. not when strange news was coming up. news that didn’t match with her expectations, nowhere, never. news that bathed her soul with venom. news that raised her little game onto a new level. 
a/n: the prologue got so many notes like my tumblr literally BLEW UP thank you so much girliez 😭 i hope you liked this part, more focus will be on corio i just want to size up reader's mindset
take care of yourself babes, love y'all luisa
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uoglacewigglue1 · 3 months ago
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meidui · 5 months ago
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heyyy!i just saw u reblog an ask and it just happened to be the exact same thing I wanted to ask👉👈 do u have and recommend stony fics that are top Tony/bottom Steve 🥺
you know i do!! see also k's rec list and bulky's rec list, i tried not to rec any that were already on their lists <3
Jackpot by @elcorhamletlive
It’s not always like this.
Tony leans back on the bed, assessing his view. Near the door, balanced on his knees, Steve stares at him with half-lidded eyes, blue eyes darkened under those beautiful eyelashes. His blonde bangs stick a little to his forehead, where a glimmer of sweat is evidence of how long he’s been in that position: knees firmly planted on the rug of Tony’s bedroom, naked aside from a pair of cotton black briefs, hands tied up behind his back, exactly as Tony left him this morning. He breathes heavily, his muscular chest going up and down as he watches and waits.
Doubling Up (Steve) by @elcorhamletlive
“Well,” Tony drawls, his gaze going from the bed to where Steve, and, uh, Tony are standing, next to the small pile where Steve’s shirt lies along with his trousers. “This is awkward.”
Chamber of Reflection by @thahiree
A few years after retiring, Steve and Tony get a surprise visit from another Steve. Steve Rogers from Earth 1610 is lost, grappling with the new century he’s been unceremoniously dropped in, with confusing feelings for his new teammate, with himself.
Steve and Tony decide to get involved.
A Proportional Response by @mserm
Steve doesn't have a reason for cock-blocking Tony.
No reason, whatsoever.
It's Hard To Look Right At You, Baby by Albuss
“Woah,” Tony says, “slow down. Take it easy. Hold your horses.” He can be forgiven for saying the same thing four times because he is already completely, utterly wrecked.
“Fuck me,” Steve whispers. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”
Five Times Steve Woke Up Early (And One Time He Didn’t) by @airlocksandaviaries
Steve's not actually a morning person, despite his body's insistence. It's quite possibly the one thing about the serum he's not immensely grateful for. Forcing himself up and on a run to burn through the overwhelming, restless energy that builds bright and early would be much more tolerable if it were a few hours later. Tony decides to do something about this.
Underneath it All by @hollyandvice
Steve's finally ready to indulge Tony's fantasy of seeing him in a thong. He just has terrible timing when it comes to implementing sexy times. But that's alright, Tony's a master of making the best of a (not actually) bad situation.
the year you were mine by @areiton
The night that changes his life forever, Steve is on a date with another man.
Or: Steve is a pricy escort and Tony buys him for a year. Neither of them are doing this for love.
a thousand things you call me by @areiton
He calls you a thousand things, and you love them all, count them all and guard them close, because with each he calls you mine.
Your Reputation Precedes You by @vanilla-shoes
Tony agrees to watch the desk for the salon next door to his garage as a favor -- but when he meets the salon owner's fiery best friend Steve, maybe the favor is for Tony after all...
Brooklyn After Dark by darefanny
”I could do that”, Steve had said before his brain could catch up to his big, stupid mouth. He had leaned over Tony’s shoulder to look closer at a photo of a man in lingerie on his tablet.
Slow Burn Fireworks by felisnocturna
Tony fucks him incredibly slowly this time.
praise you like I should by @firebrands
steve gets de-serumed for a hot second, but tony's pretty quick to reassure him of all his lovely traits. (made even better by having to sleep in a shitty motel with a mirror on the bed.)
Suds 'n Studs by @fohatic
Tony didn't mean to hire some super hot, young guy to take his clothes off for money -- honestly! He just wanted somebody to wash his cars! But accidents happen when you let your AI do the hiring for you, apparently. Now the recent divorcee has an awkward apology to make. He also has as an invitation to subscribe to Steve's OnlyFans. What he doesn't have is any clue what he should do in this situation.
In Too Deep by @fohatic
Steve knew that he was asking for trouble when he agreed to let the gallery auction off a date with him for charity, but he needed to get in the director's good books if he wanted to make it as an artist in this cutthroat town. He never imagined that his participation would ignite an outrageous bidding war, or that the infamous, billionaire ex that he hadn't seen since their sudden breakup two years prior would show up and stake his claim.
the thorn in his side by @fohatic
It had been there from the beginning. There was no end to it, that mutual wanting between them—forever unresolved—that had grown so terribly soft and unbearably romantic with age...
But there was an unspoken rule between them, as well: an understanding that they could never act on it.
That is, until an alien parasite's brood nest gets violently dislodged from its Chitauri Leviathan host during the Battle of New York, dispersing its contents directly over two time-jumping tourists who are very much in the wrong place and the wrong timeline.
pull me down by breakeven
He doesn’t mean to pull, is just brushing through the locks there as a means of comfort, to show Steve that he’s still there and present with him, that Tony is just as affected by the wet grasp of Steve’s hole as Steve is by the insistent pressure against his prostate
wind me up by breakeven
Steve hadn’t known it, but apparently Tony could tell after the first time they ever fucked. He could see in Steve the need to please, the need to be of some sort of service, and had known that it would translate perfectly in sexual desires, even when Steve hadn’t had a clue himself.
honey from your hive by meidui
"Steve, stop that," Tony says, sounding strangled as his grip tightens and Steve stops, letting Tony grab his face and tilt him up. "You're kind of scaring the crap out of me. What is it? What's going on with you?"
"We blew up the lab," Steve manages, and something dawns on Tony's face. "Everyone had a reaction 'cept me. Think 'm having it now."
Blushes Per Hour by @blossomsinthemist
Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Well, no,” he said. “Um, but.” He was breathing heavily now, through his nose. “Rachel liked it when I did it, because she has, uh, she has sensitive breasts, and I, um, err. Sometimes I’d pull on my own nipples during, or, or after, on my own, and. And I’d imagine—wonder, really, if I was. If I had enough, or—”
“Are you saying you’ve fantasized about this?” Tony said, and he couldn’t help the pure delight that came through in his tone, because had he actually stumbled onto one of Steve’s kinks, here? He’d never let on at all before, not at all.
Please Please Me by @blossomsinthemist
Steve looked so beautiful flushed and wanting, on his knees, begging.
Failing To Not Fall by @nvrthlessthsun
Steve was failing to not fall in love with Tony Stark.
AKA the one where Steve thinks he's Friends-With-Benefits with Tony, and Tony thinks he's dating Steve.
Paint Job by @valdomarx
“You want me to what?” Steve looked incredulous. “I want you to detail my car,” Tony said with a smirk.
Relax, Darling by @valdomarx
Steve is stressed and tense after a hard mission.
Luckily for him, Tony and his tongue are available to relax him in a variety of delightful ways.
Two’s Company, Three’s a Crowd, Four’s a Party by @valdomarx
How to satisfy the secret desires of a horny supersolider:
Ults Steve gets gangbaged by Tony from four different universes (Ults, MCU, AA and 616).
Mark Sixty-Nine by @everybodyilovedies
Tony is irritated that Steve's first hug-and-fly wasn't with him. As the source of many of Steve's other "firsts", Tony has a brilliant idea of how he could take one more. Specifically, Steve's first time being fucked by a machine.
Afternoon Delight by @greyduckgreygoose
Tony watched with narrowed eyes as Rogers nodded politely to Natasha. They exchanged quick, familiar smiles, which suggested that they knew each other better than the acquaintances they seemed to want Tony to think they were. Up close, Rogers was even more attractive than he had appeared on camera, a touch of blonde stubble along his jaw, large square hands.
He also had a nice ass, not that Tony was particularly staring.
“Mr. Stark,” Natasha said, as they both stood before Tony’s desk. “May I introduce Steve Rogers? Or, if you prefer, Captain America.”
The Sixth Time is the Charm by @onemuseleft
The fifth time Steve tried to get Tony to fuck him (and failed) is when he started taking it personally.
Your Kind of Love by blue_jack
The first time they have sex, Tony isn’t really hoping for much.
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richarlotte · 1 month ago
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Makeup tips you learned backstage?
Put eyelash glue on your lash line and on your lash strip. Your lashes will stay where you put them all day, even if you’re extremely active. This is a trick that dancers, pro cheerleaders, and makeup artists use when they know they need their lashes to stay put for 12 hours minimum.
Sephora and Tweezerman make the best metal face razors. You need a smooth base to apply your makeup on, so shave your face, apply a face mask after, and then use a light moisturizer. I’d recommend the Topicals clarifying mask if you’re prone to breakouts.
You don’t need expensive brow serums to grow your eyebrows. Minoxidil is the best you can get, and it’s both affordable and potent. Use only a tiny bit, put it on a spoolie, and comb it through your brows and clean up the surrounding area with a Q-tip since you don’t want it on your skin.
Get used to using products. A little dot of foundation here, a speck of concealer, and a dusting of powder won’t give you the full face look that you want. Learn how to apply makeup and don’t be afraid to use it when you’re doing a full face.
Harsh contour and bronzer isn’t for everyone. More often than not, it ages you and looks out of place, and if you don’t know where to place your bronzer or contour, your makeup will end up looking muddy. If you’re not on stage, you don’t need as much contour/bronzer as you’d think.
Knowing how to layer your products, mix and match colors, bake and blend, use brushes and sponges, and place your products is so much more important than having expensive makeup. If your technique is bad, your makeup will be as well.
Every woman should know a makeup look that suits her. It doesn’t need to be a heavy beat, you don’t need to do full lashes and winged liner, and you shouldn’t struggle through each step. I use a tinted moisturizer, concealer, a tiny bit of bronzer, and lots of blush, and I do glossy lips. It’s natural; I can do it in 10 minutes, and it suits me.
Your eyebrow shape might not be as flattering as you think it is, and I don’t mean that as an insult. When Instagram brows blew up, everyone began gravitating towards that shape, but it’s not flattering on all face shapes. If you do your brows or get your brows done regularly, look at different shapes that might be good on you instead of sticking to what you know best.
Find products that suit your skin color. Having a lip liner and a shimmery eyeshadow in shades that match you are powerful tools that make it that much easier to pull a simple glam together. All of your products should flatter you, but if you have a few in colors that match, things will be easier, and you’ll be able to work with more.
The rules of makeup are always changing, but this one remains the same: prepping is essential for a long-lasting look. If you don’t prep, prime, and hydrate your base, it won’t last through the day. Makeup needs something to adhere to, and if you’re applying layer after layer of powder to a base that’s already dry, it’ll slide off in seconds and you’ll start to look greasy.
Don’t be afraid to mix and match your products and experiment with powders, creams, liquids, and other products. There’s no rule that says that you can only mix powders with powders; it’s more about your application and technique instead of the texture or consistency of the products you’re trying to use.
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moonstruckme · 1 year ago
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Hello my love! I have a request for a quick little blurby with whoever you think it fits! Basically, the reader has an extensive skin care routine, but she’s sick so all she wants to do is lay bed, but the beautiful man is helping her do it because he knows how much it means to her! Am I projecting? Yes because I’m sick as a dog right now and I didn’t do my skin care routine at all but I just didn’t have the energy to 🥺💕
Hi honey! Hope you're feeling a bit better <3
This isn’t very relaxing lmao apologies, he’s doing his best. And maybe modern au? Because I didn’t feel like researching 80s skincare
Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 814 words
“Shit,” Eddie hisses when you wince, pulling the washcloth away to kiss your eyelid. “Keep ‘em shut tight, baby, we don’t want this stuff getting in there.” 
“They are shut.” Your face pinches as he continues to scrub at your lashes with the washcloth. “I’m just not usually this rough with them, Eds. You’re going to tear out my eyelashes.” 
“Doing this?” He sounds dubious. “They can’t be very hardy, then.” 
“They’re not.” 
“Okay, okay.” He swipes the last of your mascara off a bit more delicately. “I can’t believe you went to work like this. I told you you were way too sick to go.” 
“I was fine this morning.” 
“You almost passed out pouring your cereal.” 
You open your eyes to stare him down, daring him with your whole face to push you. You’re way too exhausted for this. “I’m calling in tomorrow, okay?” 
“You bet you are, trouble.” 
You open your mouth to snipe at him, but Eddie swoops in for a kiss as he finishes with your makeup remover and you sink back into the mattress, nullified.
“What’s next?” he asks sweetly. “That watery shit?” 
“Toner, yeah. Thanks.” 
He makes a sound like you’re welcome, a bit of cheek to it. You decide it’s probably deserved, since you keep disparaging him while he’s doing you a favor. 
Eddie wets your washcloth with toner, passing it over your skin before reaching for your serum. You close your eyes as he brings the dropper just underneath them, like he’s seen you do a million times, and dribbles the glossy liquid onto your skin. He’s quick to chase it with his fingers, murmuring expletives under his breath as some of it drips onto your pillow before he can get it. You laugh, and he pinches your cheek meanly. 
“Stay still, or I’ll get it in your mouth.” 
You quickly smooth your face into expressionlessness, your poker face immaculate, and then Eddie laughs too. You open your eyes at the sound. 
Eddie’s eyes hover above yours, lashes kissing as he grins toothily. A few frizzy curls have escaped the ponytail he’s confined the rest in. They tickle your cheeks when he moves, using his finger to distribute some of the serum onto your chin. 
“You got it all over?” you ask him. Softly, like his proximity requires a hushed tone. 
Eddie's thumb digs into your chin fondly, his smile broadening. You can see his canines. “Yup. You’re all shined up, sweet thing. How long do you leave it for again?” 
“Until it dries.” 
“And how long’s that?” 
You shrug. “Ten, fifteen minutes. It doesn’t have to be all the way dry, just mostly.” 
He nods. You listen to the passing of cars outside, the beginnings of crickets as darkness falls. Eddie starts sweeping his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. 
“You look so fucking pretty,” he says quietly, “even though I know you’re the plague personified right now. How do you do that?” 
Try as you might to tamp it down, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your features. “Every night when you go to sleep,” you tell him, “I take a little bit of your hair and use it to brew a potion in the kitchen. I’m slowly stealing your beauty, bit by bit.” 
“Fucking knew it,” he growls, dipping his head to nip playfully at your neck. 
You yelp and set your hands on his shoulders, warning him breathlessly about getting his hair in your serum. 
“Fine,” he relents. “I know you’re full of shit anyway. You’ve been this killer since the day I met you.” He flashes a grin, canines and all. “And I only get more beautiful with time, so I know you’re not siphoning it off me. Nice try.” 
“You’ve got me there.” You smile back, but it’s a half-hearted effort. 
Eddie makes a low humming sound, thumb once again rubbing your shoulder. “You okay, baby? Your chest still hurting?” 
“No, it’s not as bad.” The words leave you in a thoughtless sigh, and Eddie frowns, bending over to press a chaste kiss to your sternum. The sweet gesture pushes up against the pressure already thick and uncomfortable in the back of your throat. “I’m just really tired,” you admit, and to your mortification the words come out with a teary edge. 
Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, only a flicker of concern passing over his face as his hand moves to cup the side of your head, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. 
“Hey, that’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’ll finish up here. S’just the moisturizer left, right?” You nod, swallowing, and he mirrors you. “I can handle that. Get some shut eye, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” 
You let your eyes close, the steady movement of Eddie’s thumb on your temple easing you towards slumber, because you know he will.
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