#kinda pink now that I look at the pics
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godnectar · 1 year ago
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forgot to show off for a sec 😽 /jk
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@godnectar MY PINTEREST KNOWS
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nosenseofhumortrait · 2 years ago
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erin beaker but she's inspired by my ts2 makeover of her.
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lilidawnonthemoon · 2 years ago
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shotmrmiller · 9 months ago
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ps!ghost's twitter feed used to be of him at conventions. his car. him in a pool. the gym. arm around johnny in his backyard. sprawled on his couch next to kyle. basic stuff. the occasional obligatory promo of the video he shoots.
then it's one faceless pic of you for your OF. pretty thing, puffy pussy visible through your sodden knickers. thighs spread wide, feet on each side of the slim mirror. retweets it with a water emoji.
now, it's him with a cup of steaming black coffee in his hands, a sleek macbook before him on the marble-top kitchen island (hand covering the lower half of his face because it's too damn early for the mask. kinda looks like he's yawning. cute.)
johnny throwing up two fingers, thick wrist adorned with a bracelet, sunlight glinting off of its jewels. vacation, it looks like. cobblestone street beneath his loafers. panna cotta gelato in his other hand.
it's him with his hands in his pockets, neck craned back to look at the masterpiece that hangs on the wall— brushstrokes of genius on canvas. he's got a healthy glow to him, sun-kissed gold. warm, unlike the clinical white of the museum walls.
then it's you again. this time you've got two small (in comparison to his very long ones) fingers stuffed into your greedy hole, glistening with slick. heart eyes emoji.
and again. a vibrant pink vibrator in your cunt, one arm reaching for the camera, remote control in hand. put it as intense as you like. i can handle it. two heart eyes and water emoji.
and again, 3 consecutive pictures. your face is covered by a big red heart, but everything else is visible. like the creamy white fluffy rabbit ears on your head, a collar around your neck, tiny carrot charm delicately dangling from it, white cottonball tail on your arse. small, black triangles on your head: cat ears. silky collar with a tinkling silver bell. long, furry plume-like tail, obsidian black with a precious white bow at the base. last is a puppy mask. buttery faux-leather, sleek and smooth. padded fist mitts, rosy, pink paws. whip-like tail. a thick collar around your neck, chain links glimmering with the camera's flash. handle on the floor, beckoning to be picked up, to lead you about. i'd be a good pet, don't you think?
(simon spam retweeted this 6 times. kyle sent him a message about it, telling him his twitter is freaking out. it was most assuredly not a mistake.) lowered his joggers enough to take himself out and fisted his cock until he covered that pretty arse of yours with his seed. was not fun cleaning up his phone after but so worth.
(he'll never admit that heat blooms in his cheeks when fans ask if you're his lover. how lucky you are. must be seeing nameless gods beneath him, touching the sky with your fingertips when he uses his mouth. seeing the universe behind your eyelids when he makes you come around his cock.)
he wishes, lol.
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jjmbbg · 23 days ago
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"A first time together"
cw: clark kent x fem!reader, protected p in v, loss of 'virginity', insecurities, softie clark bc i'm not feeling well and i need a hug, looots of kissessss, c'moooon look at those pretty lipssss.
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(pics from pinterest)
To tell the truth, neither of you knew if the heat you felt was a product of the summer in Smallville or because of the tremendous tension between the two of you. Maybe it was a little bit of both, maybe it was the sun's rays, maybe it was Clark's clumsy, inexperienced hands caressing your thighs over your skirt, maybe it was your own hands holding his head, tangling your fingers in his hair.
Your soft breaths filled his ears, which you caressed from lobe to helix, making him hum softly. His nervous hand was placed against your lower stomach —yes, he dared to move his hand from your thigh, that's brave!— pushing you against the old couch of his little relaxing-space at the barn. This completely daring move allowed him to have a little more control in the situation —even if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.
He broke the kiss to let you catch your breath, his pretty eyes opening to look you in the eye, taking the time to appreciate every detail in your face: swollen lips from the kissing session, a little scar on your eyebrow which is only visible with sunlight at the right angle, some wrinkles, product of daily stress, and some other spots on your skin.
Oh good Lord, he loved you with his whole heart. To him, you were the prettiest little thing ever. You were also fragile, delicate like glass.
"We've been kissing for like... fifteen minutes?" you chuckled lowly, voice shaky and amused, still a little breathy. "I mean, not like I'm complaining, clearly, but you're gonna wear out my lips"
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed about it. But he can't help it! You're just... ugh, perfect.
"I kinda got carried away" Clark said as an apology, smiling softly, his canines standing out in his smile as always. "We can stop, y'know. I may be being a bit intense right now..."
You shook your head softly, smiling amused. "Don't worry, Clark. We don't have to stop. I don't wanna stop. Do you?"
Clark grinned, shaking his head amused too, and obviously still a little nervous. "Good, good..." he mumbled, looking at you directly into your eyes again, then leaned forward and slowly kissed you again.
This guy, the one who turned 18 a few days ago was too nervous, but that that wasn't gonna stop him from caressing your lower belly, or sliding one hand to your nape and putting the other on the couch, gently pushing you now towards the cushions. He crawled on top of you, careful not to put all his weight on you, as you two kept kissing.
Your legs unconsciously opened for him to adjust himself right there, your hands went to his back, one of them caressing his upper back and the other slipping under his white t-shirt, slowly caressing his skin, tearing from his lips a soft whimper.
Suddenly he broke the kiss, he seemed even more nervous now, making you frown a little.
"Hey, you okay?" your question was soft, your voice was it too, as if you were talking to a hurt animal.
"Have you ever done this?" he replied back with another question, chewing his inner cheek.
"Kiss you? Yeah, I've done it before, Clark" you mumbled, smiling shyly, your frown fading from your face.
Oh, you were so cute he could die.
"No, not that" he chuckled, caressing your sides with nervous hands. He swallowed hard. "I meant... it"
The pink color flooded your entire face, making you giggle a little, shaking your head softly. "No, never... you?"
"No, no, no" Clark replied quickly, also shaking his hand. "I... I guess now I'm glad I'm not the only one who's a little lost with this..."
"Hey, it's okay" you said, cupping his cheek with one hand, the other unable to stop caressing his skin. "We... we can figure it out together"
Clark nodded, kissing your jaw softly then. His kisses were still a little shy, but gradually, they became more confident, more rude, more passionate. The hand that was next to you, traveled to your thigh again, moving towards your knee, reaching your calf, ending at your foot and getting rid of your boot, then the other one.
You smiled at him, Clark chuckling softly as he took off your socks, tossing them next to your boots, teasingly biting one of your feet.
"Hey! Don't bite!" you said, pulling your feet away from his mouth, but he pushed hard and grabbed them, pushing them apart and opening your legs again, leaning on you as he caressed your skin slowly and seductively. "Hi" you giggled kissing his lips gently.
"Hi" he replied against your soft lips.
You pulled him tightly against your body, your hands playing with the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it slowly exposing centimeter by centimeter in a fearful but determined manner. He helped you, taking it off of him, leaving his toned torso in your sight, which was caressed by your hands slowly, tasting and memorizing every part of his skin.
"You're really pretty" you blurted out, pressing your hands on his shoulders, pulling him back towards you.
"Oh, God" he whispered, cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your words.
With soft kisses, soft touches and soft whimpers, your hands undressed him and his undressed you, now both in their underwear, Clark scooped you in his arms effortlessly as he managed to sit on the couch to make you straddle his lap. His hands caressed your bare back as he pecked your lips, fingers finding the clasp of your bra nervously, and pulled back a little, his blue eyes searching yours.
"Is it okay if I...? You know..." his voice was soft, accompanied by a coy smile. "Can I take this off?"
You chuckled softly, nodding with your head, mumbling a soft "yes". Kent slowly unclasped your bra, sliding one of the straps of your bra down your shoulder, kissing your skin softly, nipping it, as he uncovered your chest. He moved your hair to the side so he could kiss your neck and collarbones, now enjoying the warmth of your bare skin against his, feeling shivers running down his spine.
"You're pretty too, God, so beautiful" he breathed out, his eyes roaming your torso in awe, enraptured by your naked beauty and purity, your exposed body was a work of art, one that only he could appreciate now. "I could just... I could stare at you all day"
You smiled, cupping his cheeks and gave him an open-mouthed kiss, sighing against his mouth, tongue delving into his.
He whimpered.
Oh, God. It felt like heaven. Your mouth was warm, it was a slight test of what was forbidden, what was kept away from him.
It was glorious.
He kissed you back with the same fucking lust, the same fucking love. His hands tugged the hem of your panties, playing with it until he decided to slide them slowly off your pretty body and leave you all bare to him. His eyes landed on your new exposed area, swallowing hard, feeling his throat and mouth dry and his boxers feeling tight.
"Please..." he whispered, now looking at your face with pleading eyes. "Can I... can I just touch you?"
It was a simple question, but goddamn... he looked at you with those blue eyes as if you were the prettiest thing that has existed on earth —yet he looked a little pathetic, furrowed brow in need, eyes shining, little pout on those red lips from kissing you so much.
He was perfect for you.
"Yes, Clark, you can touch me" you replied softly, feeling your body shudder. "Let me touch you too, baby, please?"
The farmboy nodded, hands going lower, caressing your ass and thighs, gently —and a little unsure— he touched your privates. He wasn't an expert, but he kinda had an idea of how to actually do it. His confidence increased a little when he heard you gasp softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders tightly.
"Clark..." you breathed out, eyes shutting in pleasure.
You pressed your forehead on his shoulder, your legs trying to close at his touch, but he kept them open with his other hand. His fingers with a bruising grip on your thigh, not allowing you to close your gates to Heaven no inch. His touch was gentle and reverent, his hand getting wetter with your sweet arousal.
His kisses and your own touches on his warmth skin made you two end up lying on the couch again —maybe the barn wasn't the better place to do this, but just... hormones blocking any kind of reasoning whatsoever—, his hands reached his jeans, pulling out a condom from his wallet —and maybe not the best place to save one, but hey, at least he had one!.
He was shaky, nervous, and so you were.
For some people, the first time wasn't a big deal, but for both of you it certainly was. It was also special, after almost a year of relationship, this could actually be the moment when your souls and bodies are used in harmony and as perfect puzzle pieces. Something that would mark an important moment for the relationship.
Between giggles, you helped him to roll the condom on his hardness and to aline him on your entrance. He took a shuddering breath, and his gaze moved from your almost connected bodies to your pretty face seeking for doubt, for insecurity, for rejection. His eyes were filled with a mix of desire and... pure fear. He was afraid that you would push him away, that you changed your mind at the last minute, that you think he's not what you want.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice betraying his worst feelings at the moment. "We can-... we can stop, y'know? I wouldn't mind, honestly"
But you weren't dumb. You knew his words came from fear, and you won't let him think that you don't want to do this, that you don't want to give yourself to him. You shook your head, caressing his cheek softly, with a little smile on your face. "I don't wanna stop. I don't want you to stop" you said, almost the same words you said earlier, and they were more than enough to make him feel confident again.
"Let me know if it hurts, yeah?" he asked softly, pressing the tip of his length on your slick folds, nudging your entrance gently. He heard you whimper lowly, shifting your hips a little for him. "Am I hurting you?" Clark stopped his movements, looking at your face.
You shook your head again, taking a deep breath and moving your hands to his back so you could ground yourself.
"On the contrary" you gasped softly. Your chest heaving with your shallow breaths. "Keep going, please..."
The farmboy sighed softly, relieved, and nodded, slowly finishing to push his hips towards yours, burying his cock fully in your warmnes. You both moaned at the sensation, being consumed slowly by the pleasure that was starting to form inside. He gave you a few seconds to adjust yourself to his size, to the intruder who was slowly and deliciously splitting you open.
He peppered kisses on your face as you took your sweet time to get used to him. It was a new sensation, one you could easily get used to. After a few minutes, you moved your hips towards his, indicating that he could start moving now. You knew that, anyway, and despite being patient so as not to hurt you, he was mentally fighting with the primal instinct of thrust into you.
Clark hummed when you moved your hips, the green light to keep going. He pulled back his lips just a little, pushing then gently back inside of you, his breath coming in short gasps as your walls enveloped his cock so good. You gasped softly once more, your nails digging painfully but deliciously on his back, making him groan on your neck.
He thrusted into your soft and warm heat, grabbing one of your hands and pinning it above your head, pulling out from the depths of your throat the most beautiful moans he had ever heard in his life. He rolled his hips slowly, angling them to hit the perfect spot inside of your pussy, making you shudder with pleasure. He whispered sweet nothingsin your ear, his voice, ragged and filled with lust, filled your ears, the exquisite melody that filled your soul.
"Oh, God... don't stop... Clark, don't stop" you whimpered, clenching around his shaft mercilessly. "You're doing it so good... so good..."
Your soft moans and pleas were driving him nuts. His hips picked pace, a little faster now, making the old couch beneath you creak a little. He growled softly, loosing himself in the amazing sensation of your body connected with his. It was beautiful and magical.
It was embarrassing to say that he wasn't going to last long, but could you blame him? He had the prettiest girl ever in his arms, moaning his name and asking for something only he could give you. He pressed his face harder on your neck, nose inhaling your musky scent and a little of your perfume.
"Honey, I... oh God... I think I'm g-gona cum" *he grumbled as his thrusts became more uncoordinated, desperate, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. He gritted his teeth tightly, his jaw clenched, fighting his release. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
You squeeze his hand above your head, your legs wrapping around his hips and heels digging into his taut ass to push him deeper. His incredibly amazing movements making you see stars behind your eyelids, the orgasm building tight on your lower belly.
"I'm close too... oh, God!" you cried out, feeling on the edge from the orgasmic precipice. The pleasure was immense, your nails digging into his back, unable to contain for much longer that delicious sensation to which you were becoming addicted.
It didn't take long for you two to come, your orgasm finally pushing Clark to reach his —he had really taken it upon himself to make you feel good, like a goddess. Your juices dripped off your core, sliding down your ass and small drops falling on the couch as he emptied himself inside of the condom, his hips still moving trying to prolong a little more the pleasure for both of you.
He wondered to himself why, despite being too strong and being almost incapable of getting tired, he felt exhausted. Maybe it was the effect of your pretty body in display for him. He grinned at the thought of you being able to do that to him.
With some weird effort, he pulled out of you, taking off the condom from his softening cock and tying it, slumping on top of you, his lips finding your pulse point. Your skin tasted like your sweat, not like he cared at all. Your hands caressed his sweaty back, a small smile decorating your face.
"If your mom or dad finds us like this..." you said teasingly, catching your breath.
Clark chuckled, stroking your bare sides. "They'll be fine"
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avocado-writing · 5 months ago
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don’t look at me, men deserve to feel pretty. based off this pic. minors dni.
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he feels pretty stupid.
if the someone had approached him, say, fifteen years ago with this idea, he’d have absolutely told them to go and fuck themselves. the shield of his masculine bravado would have prevented it - an impassable barrier. cute girls wear stuff like this, after all, not big guys like him.
but…
he’s older now. mellowed. when Wade pitches an idea for something kinky he’ll try and pretend not to be interested, but when you ask him, too? when the pair of you gang up on him, two pairs of pleading eyes and soft, sensual, suggestive hands?
ah, fuck. he’s weak. he finds he’d do just about anything to make you two happy. you both would for him, after all.
at the moment he’s just laying there, wearing nothing but pink lace around his cock. the two of you are staring, and he’s pretty sure Wade is actively salivating. your eyes are just wide and wanton.
he shifts.
“can one of you fuckin’ speak? feel like I’m on display here…”
“that’s kinda the idea, peanut,” breathes Wade, too enraptured at the sight for his usual quips. damn. he must be doing something right, then, Logan guesses, if it shuts the merc up maybe he should do this more.
“they’re comfortable, I wear them all the time,” Wade had said while trying to convince him, and as proof had hooked a thumb under the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal clinging chantilly at his hip. “plus they fit so nice under the suit. can’t imagine ever going back, not when my ass looks so damn good in pink. isn’t that right pookie?”
“that’s right,” you’d hummed, dropping a kiss on Wade’s skin over the lace. Logan remembers the way Wade had let out a juddering sigh at that. you’d left it with a simple, “you don’t have to, Lo. but it’d drive us both kinda crazy.”
you’d been right.
“Logan, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, finally closing the gap, crawling up the bed slow and seductive. he feels the mattress dip as Wade mirrors your movements so that the two of you can hook a thigh over either one of his legs. ‘pretty’. once he’d take that as an insult, a joke… but he knows you mean it as the highest compliment.
maybe he doesn’t mind so much.
“fuckin’ better than anything hanging in any shitty art gallery. and speaking of hung…” Wade presses a kiss to Logan’s cock. his lips over the fabric give just a ghost of warmth, a little tease of what’s to come, and Logan feels himself begin to harden. when you reach down to run your tongue across the elastic and up to that vein which pops out on his abdomen he leaks a little.
you and Wade are delighted.
”you’re gonna ruin these…” you sigh, faux-annoyed, obviously thrilled.
“see? I knew you could be kinky,” Wade claims.
Logan huffs.
“shut up, or I’ll take these off and gag you with ‘em.”
Wade lights up.
“promise?”
you chuckle and go back to kissing him.
“lie back, Lo, we’ve got you.”
he does, and you do.
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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hehehehe
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dad just texted me to have a good weekend and i cant tell if this is an indicator of me Having A Good Weekend or my mental illness getting worse
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ivenhae · 17 days ago
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AFTER LIKE
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Pairing: Hot nerd?Karina x fem!Reader
cw: cursing + kissing, slight skinship
📗: karina being a nerd doesn't have any significance lol just for the plot of rina in glasses🫣, reader is shy and karina is kinda cocky? slight height difference (reader is short), reader calls rina a stupid nerd, basically fluff but a bit of angst if you squint? let me know if there's something else💋
Mentions of Yujin from IVE and Heeseung from ENHYPEN.
Inspired by: After like - IVE
💌: i was listening to after like by ive while scrolling through pintrest when this rina pic showed up, so now you know why i wrote it😋🫶 this my first writing work🥹(i literally do not have an exam today and i literally did not stay up writing this instead of studying🙂‍↔️) im sorry for suddenly bombarding this lmaooo but i hope you like it! please let me know if you would like to be tagged in my future works, thank you! -love, unika🩷
Divider credit: @cafekitsune ♡
read HEESEUNG ver!
또 모르지 내 마음이
저 날씨처럼 바뀔지
날 나조차 다 알 수 없으니
Who knows?
My mind might just change like the weather
Even I don't know myself.
New years eve, what was so special about this thing anyways? It's just another year after all... Karina thought, swirling the pen around her fingers as she studied or rather just stared at the book on the desk. Her mind wandered back to her orignal thought, you. She closed the book, huffing in frustration, you must be in that party that you were going on and on about earlier, your eyes twinkling in enthusiasm as you described the dress you were planning on wearing later, "shit..." She mutters under her breath as she remembers the picture you showed her, a mirror selfie of you in that pretty baby pink, spaghetti strapped dress that stopped just above your knee. The dress was modest, just like you but it was enough, enough to drive a man or a woman crazy. "You have to wear that blue dress rina!" She remembers the way you chimed looking up at her with those doe eyes as you tugged on her sleeve like a damn puppy then she saw your face fall when she declined, "Can't Y/n, I have..." She trails off getting lost in your eyes for a moment before she catches herself, clearing her throat as she shakes her head "I have to study" That cute pout on your face as you huffed before starting about how she should enjoy herself and that it's new years eve, which she didn't pay any attention to because she was too busy staring at your cute face. "what am I even doing?" She mumbles as she finds herself standing in front of her closet, that blue dress peeking out from under all the pile of her other clothes.
그게 뭐가 중요하니
지금 네게 완전히
푹 빠졌단 게 중요한 거지
That doesn't matter
What matters is
I'm into you right now.
God, why did she have to be such a coward? She thinks, her hands gripping onto her dress as she stands outside Yujin's house. The feeling of her heart beating rapidly and the sound of the loud music from inside only adding to her nervousness, she had been to her friend's house countless times for countless parties, then why is she so nervous today? "Oh? Aren't you a little too early?" Karina's met with Yujin's sarcasm as she walks in the house, she rolls her eyes as they hug, Yujin pulls back before taking a look at Karina, "You look good! But girl you're so late! I thought Y/n said you had to study or something" Karina sighs, "Yeah I..." Karina trails off, she takes a deep breath before continuing "Yujin, I think I'm gonna tell her..." She says softly, looking at Yujin as if asking her if it's a good idea. Yujin gasps softly "Really? Don't tell me that's the only reason why you came here..." Yujin gives an aww expression as she looks at Karina. "You know what? She hasn't been enjoying herself at all today and I think...its because you weren't here" Karina tilts her head, nibbling on her bottom lip nervously, "Really? You...you think so?" Yujin flashes her a smile as she nods, "Yup and it's new years eve! Don't you think it's the perfect time to tell her how you feel? And it's..." Yujin takes a look at the time on her phone before turning to karina "It's almost 12..." She says softly, Karina's eyes widen slightly, she turns to look at the stairs then back at Yujin who just nods at her, patting her back softly, Karina mouths a 'thank you' to Yujin before making her way up the stairs. She steps out on the rooftop, her eyes scanning among the people to look for you, oh. There you are, and ofcourse you're with Heeseung. He has a hand on your waist as you have yours on his shoulder. The beating of her heart is faster than the loud song playing as she watches you with him, she stays there, the ache in her chest only increasing, but then she sees him leaning closer to you and it's her final straw, something inside her snaps and she's already making her way past the crowd, striding towards you.
아마 꿈만 같겠지만 분명 꿈이 아니야
달리 설명할 수 없는 이건 사랑일거야
Seems like a dream but it’s definitely not
Can't explain it, it must be love.
"What?" "I said I'm leaving!" You place a hand on his shoulder as you repeat, trying to make yourself audible over the loud music. "Huh? It isn't even 12 yet Y/n!" He places a hand on your waist unconsciously as he leans in, almost yelling so that you could hear him. "I know but...the person who I was dressed up and here for isn't even here...I...I feel stupid" You say, you don't know why you told him that, but you did. Heeseung looks at you with an arched eyebrow, as if waiting for you to explain further, you sigh stepping back slightly before looking up at him, "Karina! That...stupid stupid nerd who just can't seem to understand my stupid stupid hints! I'm always trying to look good so that she sees me... trying to drop hints and make her realise that I like her but she just doesn't understand! Just being there... looking so...so pretty!" You huff, a soft pout on your lips, Heeseung chuckles softly shaking his head before his smile fades slowly "Y/n-" "No it's okay!" You shake your head as you start stepping back slowly. "I'll just go home and spend this stupid-" You pause as you bump into someone, before you could turn to say sorry, you feel hands grabbing your waist. "Just exactly how many times did you say stupid?" You gasp softly as you hear her soft voice and feel her warm breath on your ear, moving back slightly as you turn around, there she is, wearing that stupid blue dress that you love so much with her stupid glasses, the sound of Heeseung clearing his throat behind you brings you back to reality, "Uh yeah, that's what I was trying to say, you two can talk I'll just..see you guys after midnight, I guess" Heeseung walks away but none of you move, just standing there and appreciating each other. "Stupid nerd huh?" Karina breaks the silence, a smirk on her face as she tilts her head to the side, oh she's giving you that cocky expression that makes you feel the butterflies in your stomach "I...I didn't mean it like that..." "I know" karina sighs as she moves closer to you, her fingers gripping on your chin gently as she tilts your face up, making you face her, "You look beautiful....did you mean it angel?" Angel? Fuck. "That you're a stupid...no! Ofcourse-" She chuckles softly, cutting you off, "No, That you dress up all pretty...for me? That you like me?" Your eyes widen slightly as you look away, "Nuh-uh, look at me angel, I need to know, please." Your breath hitches at her words as you slowly turn your gaze towards her again, "I...yes..." You whisper softly and she lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding until now, she leans in, her fingers still holding your chin as her eyes bore into yours through her stupid glasses, "Guess I am a stupid stupid nerd that I couldn't even understand that a pretty pretty girl like you liked me too huh?" Wait. Did she just said, too? "Too? r-rina..."
방금 내가 말한 감정 감히 의심하지 마
그냥 좋다는 게 아냐 what's after 'Like'?
Don't try to doubt what I just said
It's beyond like, what's after like?
As if on cue, the music suddenly dies down, "Everybody! Time for the final countdown!" Someone yells as the countdown begins 10...9...8...7... You both turn to look at each other again, Karina swallows, her eyes flickering to your lips then back to your eyes,
You and I
It's more than 'Like'
L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah, yeah, yeah
"I like you Y/n and fuck, I think it's more than like" Your breath hitches yet again at her confession, 6...5...4...3... You somehow find your courage, arms wrapping around her neck as you look up at her,
You and I
It's more than 'Like'
What's after 'Like'?
"What's after like?" 2...1... Karina's hands cup your face as she leans down, capturing your lips with her own in a sweet kiss, your arms tighten around her neck, pulling her closer as you both get surrounded by loud cheers and fireworks, as you finally pull away, her thumb brushes on your cheek softly, an adoring smile on her face as she looks at you, her voice a soft whisper, "Love"
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-likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🫣🩷
© ivenhae - all rights reserved, do not copy or steal.
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bloodfiendarling · 1 month ago
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𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽
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pair — rich student!reader x lecturer!ratio
wc — ~600
contains — dom reader, sub character, cock can be seen as a strap, written with mtf reader in mind, porn with little plot, college au, blowjobs (reader receiving), teacher x student (both adults), blackmailing, dubcon, power imbalance, picture taking
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i cant get him out of my head all week .. oh my god . i need a hot lecturer to suck me off bad .. euhg ... gomen ... ive been staring at pics of him .. and now i cant sleep because of him . ratiosama , youre so pretty .. please let me hit . pleas eplease please please plea
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you flip through the pages lazily, looking bored out of your mind. the book you were reading.. agh, how boring. you couldn’t understand why ratio found it so interesting. and ah — seems like you found the page he left himself off on.
“so,” you used your leg to push against your professor’s head, making him choke a little before adjusting. as soon as your leg relaxed ratio finally slipped your cock out of his mouth, coughing — you made sure he didn’t move an inch. “what’s so interesting about this book, anyway?”
he stayed quiet at the question. not a talker, huh?
well, you understood his reasons. he’s been failing you for so-called incompetence. purposely screwing you over just because he didn’t like you.. well — at least you managed to get him into his position. choking on your cock in your dorm of all places. maybe not having roommates was a good idea.
all because you had some suggestive pictures of him you got.. with your own ways. not like it mattered how. “sooo, ratio..” placing the book down beside you on the couch, you lean down and grab onto his face, forcing those reddish-pink eyes into a death glare. “you gonna improve my grades or what?”
he just looked at you with that same, pissed off face. the one you’d see whenever you passed him by the hallways. yeah, he really wasn’t a talker. hah.
you sighed, waving your phone at him — showing off those pictures again. you swore you saw his eye twitch. “you want me to spread this, or, like —”
you turned your phone around, adjusting it onto his face — making sure the position was clear as day. dr. veritas ratio, between someone’s, no, his student’s legs to take cock like a good boy. it was almost amusing.
“what are y—” he almost wanted to lash out. but he knew better — not only was his entire career in your hands with just a few pictures, but you had daddy’s influence. you could most definitely ruin his life even more. only blackmailing him was probably a relief with what you could be doing to him. “you gonna comply or not?”
he nods — rather reluctantly. it felt horrible to obey. he wanted to do at least something to somehow defend himself, but it’s not like he can. “so be a good boy, will you, veritas?” prying open his mouth with one hand, the other was tangled onto his dark, purple hair, positioning it better so he could suck you off.
“you pissed me off, you m’gonna make you do more, yeah?”
with those words, you forced him to bottom out on your cock. he choked and coughed — but god did his throat feel good. you could see those pretty eyes rolling back with his brows furrowed, both hands on your thighs to push himself off only for you to get rougher.
you guided his head, bobbing it up and down your dick. even if you could tell he was inexperienced with his mouth — damn it still felt nice. that soft tongue of his swirling around your cock, messily coating it with his saliva. after you’ve gotten a good pace on him, he started doing it on his own accord. it felt kinda nice to be forcing him down your length, but this is fine.
finally — he was able to spit out your cock — coughing again. “aghck– hnnng..♡” suddenly, he looked like he was the one trying to seduce you. looking up with those eyes, drool running down his chin with his tongue lolled out like a pathetic little doggy. you didn’t know — nor care, if it was intentional or not — you could not just pass this opportunity and not snap a pic. was this a prestigious lecturer or a slut? you almost couldn’t tell.
oh you’re sure you’ll be seeing him like this more often.
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hsr masterlist ♥︎
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386 notes · View notes
thewinter-eden · 27 days ago
Text
Blink Twice if You Need Help
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images are mine (except middle CB pic that I got from pinterest). please do not use without permission. ATE pcs are my inspo for this series.
part 3 of the skz crack!horror series.
pairing: Seo Changbin x fem!reader rating: mature, dark themes summary: stalker!Changbin has been following you for weeks. He’s looking for his next target, and he’s obsessed with you. While he’s watching you, however, he learns the secret you keep—you’re being routinely robbed by your addict brother. After watching this cycle of abuse end with you crying almost every night, Changbin takes pity.
warnings: Familial abuse, drug addict brother, satirical but definitive death of character, physical abuse, stalking, nonconsensual photographs, creepiness, fear, breakup, blood and injury, strangulation (brief, no death), automotive-related death, please for the love of god don’t take this seriously, Changbin’s kinda icky (I’m sorry babes I swear I love you), chai lattes
word count: 6k
Comment a request to be tagged.
series info PART 2 INFO
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You’re radiant.
You always are, have been since the moment you first stepped foot in his café.
But today, you’re radiant in blue. It’s a sweater he’s seen a dozen times, but now as you tiptoe up to the counter, pushing your sleeves up to your elbows and baring half a dozen clinking bracelets of various metals and stones, he thinks he’s never seen anything so perfect.
He responds to your chirped good morning and waits for the next notes of your voice to tell him what you’re ordering, and he can’t help but trace the lines of your face with his eyes as you glance over the menu.
Startled out of his admiring trance by your sharp gaze pinning him with a smile, he forces his stare to stay above your lips as you give a half laugh and request, “A chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves, please.”
You never try anything new.
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Today it’s yellow.
The bell above the door rings an announcement of your arrival, and there you are; wearing a warm yellow dress with thick black tights that keep the chill off, your cheeks flushed from the cold.
He can’t say your smile lights up a room, because from his perspective, your smile blacks the room out. Everyone else disappears. No one and nothing exists except for you, right before his eyes, your windswept hair a halo around your brow.
He hands off the drink he’s just finished making for another regular customer, sending them out the door with a kind smile, and then turns to you just as your fingertips touch down on his counter top.
It’s almost procedural, the way he anticipates each move you make just before you make it. You slide your fingertips towards the register before laying your palms flat, cocking your hip against the counter as though you have to lean closer to see the menu.
Your eyes trace the words and pictures for a few long seconds, gifting him with the view of your throat curving up towards your jaw, and the contemplative bow of your lips. And then, finally, you’ll drop your eyes to his, smile like you’ve never been more excited to order a cup of coffee, and then you place your order.
Always a chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves.
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“Good morning,” He greets you when you appear in a pink jumpsuit. His eyes follow the sounds of your bracelets jingling, up to the clink of the two necklaces you always wear, up to the cheeky swish of the earrings that ornate all three of your lobe piercings.
Your eyes fall from the menu to his face like they’ve been physically pushed, surprised by his friendly voice, and he doesn’t think he imagines the sudden rush of heat that crawls up your throat with a wash of color. “Oh.”
He’s caught you off-guard; he knows, because you’ve never given him that upward tilt of your voice before.
“Good morning!” You sing back, that smile pulling your lips back.
“Chai latte with oatmilk?” He recalls, already lifting a cup and holding his marker at the ready.
“With extra cloves.” You confirm, slightly in awe that he’s remembered.
Of course he remembers.
He flashes you a wink just before he turns around to start on your drink, and sees you in his peripheral moving towards the pickup counter. You’re smiling down at the rings that clutter your fingers, and he can’t help the swarm in his chest that floods in as a result of the fact that this time, you’re the one flustered over him.
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The day that you arrive at the café to find that your latte is already made and ready for you, you’re missing one of your earrings. He catches your eye as you enter, his gaze flickering over that blue sweater again as you approach the register.
Before you can order, he’s pushing your full, steaming cup towards you and the screen is already flashing your total. His eyes flick from yours to the empty piercing on your left lobe. “Good morning,” He says.
You’re staring down at the cup with a sort of delighted, half-confusion, before your gaze snaps back up to him. “Is this—”
“Chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves.” He confirms with a grin. Then he falters, tilting his head at you. “Unless you want something different today?”
Your hands bring the cup closer to you, possessively. “No, this is perfect.” You argue, and then you’re digging for your billfold. “Thank you…” You drift off, eyebrows lifting hopefully as you hint around for his name.
“Changbin.” A pink tint covers his cheeks as his grin softens. “And you?”
You give him your name, and your money, and leave the café with butterflies in your stomach.
When he finds the missing earring a few feet from the entrance to his café, accidentally dropped on the sidewalk, he scoops it up and tucks it in his pocket with care.
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On an unseasonably warm day, you appear at his register in a shorter black skirt and a slouchy gray sweater that hangs off all the protruding points of your body with teasing subtlety. He passes you your drink, with the addition of a new flavor of muffin that his baker is trying out in the form of mini pastries, and notices that your skirt is well above your knees, fluttering around your mid-thigh in a way that has his gut clenching.
The tights don’t distract at all from the musculature of your legs and the curve of your ass that suddenly seems dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
“Good morning, Changbin,” You greet cheerfully, and the sound of his name in your mouth brings his attention back to your bright features.
He makes sure no one follows you home. Your sweater is too flirty with your curves, your skirt too short, for him to rely on the strength and decency of lesser men.
You make it home, safe and sound, to your modest and tasteful townhouse. You live on the ground floor, surrounded by windows and bathed in soft fluorescent lighting.
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You listen to pop music in the mornings, and early 2000s grunge rock in the afternoons. He takes note of the artists you listen to the most, and, soon enough, when you walk into the café in the mornings, there’s familiar music playing through the speakers.
He lives for the way it makes you smile when you notice.
As you get ready every morning, you put the same TV show on in the background, so he finds the station. It takes a few days for you to realize that he has it on one of the TVs mounted in the corners of his café, but when you do, you start lingering for a few extra moments every day to catch a couple seconds with fondness on your face.
He’s never watched an episode of the show in his life, but if it gets him two more sentences out of you every morning, consider him obsessed. He watches it all the time.
All of your snacks and meals are high protein and low sugar, because you go to the gym for two hours every other day and your one self indulgent treat is the sugary chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves that he makes for you.
This fact warms him from the inside out, because he resonates with this lifestyle choice. Your gym is near his, and it’s almost as large, almost as nice. You’re a hard worker, your beautiful curves the product of self discipline and dedication. He stops offering you his baker’s pastries and starts giving you the rich and smoky cheesy egg bites instead, and starts to realize that the guilty smile you once accepted your freebies with is now replaced by weightless excitement.
There’s not a single inch of you that needs less sugar, of course. He’d give you every muffin in his shop if he thought that was what you wanted. But he understands the yen for the feeling of progress in the gym, and the burden of cheating yourself through bad nutrition, so if he can help you feel like you’re getting stronger, he will. Hell, he’d start serving steak in his café if he thought you had an iron deficiency.
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“Changbin!” You keen one morning as you flounce to the register in a flattering red blouse that he watched you pick out this morning. You lean against the counter with a great heave, and past the rush of excitement he feels for the very deliberate interaction you’re giving him, he notices a trace of greenish blue wrapping around your throat.
Then you turn your head and the light shifts the shadows on your skin, and he’s not sure.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” He greets casually, despite the pink tinge to his cheeks. “What’s going on?”
You scrub your nails over your scalp with exasperation and then set your enormous pleading eyes on him. “Binnie…”
His gut swirls.
That’s a new nickname.
It’s in his head now, locked into his brain, the way your tongue forms the sweet sound of his name like that.
“Changbin,” you say again. “Changbinnie.”
Despite the absolute earthquake happening in his chest, he gives you the flattest expression of suspicion that he can manage, and hopes his skin tone isn’t currently tomato. “I’m not sure I like the sound of this.” It’s a lie.
A bald faced lie. He loves the sound of this. He wants you to keep repeating his name like that until it’s all he can hear.
Your bottom lip juts out in a pout, and he has to physically turn away to clean the milk steamer before he loses control in his place of business.
“Tell me you haven’t made my latte yet?” You plead, leaning further on the counter.
When he glances over his shoulder, he sees the way you’ve inadvertently showcased your breasts for him, and he spins around again, pinching his eyes shut. As though his apartment walls aren’t disappearing more and more by the day behind pictures of you.
As though he doesn’t know every single color in your underwear drawer.
“No, not yet. Why?” Another lie. The latte is sitting by his left hand, still steaming, just waiting for your manicured hands and perfectly lined lips.
“My blender broke this morning.” You whine, and dig in your purse for something. “I know you have smoothies on your menu, but I was wondering if you would add my protein powder to one? Is that legal, to take an ingredient from a customer?” You flap an admittedly suspicious looking ziplock bag at him. “I have a protein smoothie every morning for breakfast, and at this point it’s more of a crutch than my latte and I’ll just spiral for the rest of the day if I don’t start it with a strawberry shake, so please, Binnie—”
He cuts you off with one hand covering the one of yours that holds the ziplock, and the other pushing your latte towards you. “I have protein powder. You want vanilla or strawberry for your strawberry smoothie?”
Your mouth makes a beautiful “O” shape as your free hand cups the hot latte. “I thought you hadn’t made it?”
Changbin tosses a wink over his shoulder, already grabbing the vanilla protein powder. He already knows it’ll be vanilla. He already knows you want the whey powder and not the plant-based. He already knew about the blender.
Your morning may have started with an unexpected hiccup, but his is going exactly according to plan.
“Pull up a chair and drink while I make your smoothie. The latte is on the house.”
You immediately protest, but he won’t hear of it. He basks in your company as you sip down every bit of your comfort beverage, and then offers idle chatter between the scenes of your TV show as you spend ten minutes more than usual in his café, drinking your protein smoothie.
He got a full thirty minutes with you this morning, and it’s worth every second.
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The morning that you wake up with another man steals the smile from his face. You must have brought him home with you last night, invited him to stay over, and are now foregoing your sacred protein smoothie in your new blender for a more traditional breakfast of eggs and toast, for the sake of your half-naked guest.
Changbin’s heels haven’t cooled even by the time you make it into the café for your latte, and he’s especially somber when you order an additional drink, a reeking pumpkin cappuccino that he’s forgotten to erase from the menu from a month ago.
He notices the extra warmth in your smile; your excitement is diminished, replaced with a satisfied contentment that makes his shoulders tense.
You’re falling in love with this new man, blushing down at your phone and walking home with your chin high, waking up in the mornings with a smile on your lips.
Changbin serves you every morning, your rich and creamy oatmilk chai latte with extra cloves, and the nauseating pumpkin cappuccino for your bedfellow. He doesn’t know why this man doesn’t come to the coffee shop with you, if he sends money or if he makes you pay for both of your drinks, if he even likes the autumn atrocity that Changbin makes with shaking hands every day.
The fire in his throat only heats when your drink order abruptly changes to two hot green teas. He watches you turn down his readily prepared chai latte with an awkward darting of your eyes, lifting your hand in refusal as though if he doesn’t take it away, you’ll reach out and snatch it from him.
“I’m actually getting some green teas this morning,” You say, and he knows he isn’t imagining the disappointed chuckle in your tone.
He takes your discarded usual away without hesitation, suddenly concerned that you may have developed an allergy or an intolerance for your favorite drink, but you just swipe a palm over your forehead and lean your elbow on the counter, settling into the comfort of your casual friendship with the attentive barista. “My boyfriend and I have decided to start eating healthier,”
Changbin can’t bring himself to believe you. You eat vegetables and chicken or fish for lunch, you snack on cheese and meat, you bake with honey instead of sugar, and he can’t remember the last time he’s seen you without a water bottle in hand, in various stages of emptiness.
“We’re opting away from the lattes and cappuccinos for a bit.” You give another awkward laugh that turns his stomach, and he raises his eyebrows at you.
“You like the green tea?” He’s surprised. You have tea at home, of course, but it’s all black teas—rich and spicy and meant to be topped with a swirl of milk and brown sugar.
The skin around your mouth tightens as you fight a shiver. “Oh, no, but my boyfriend does.”
“I can make you something different,” He offers. “I have a bunch of teas. I just got in a new chai spice blend—” He breaks off when you raise your hand again, a physical barrier between your weakening determination and his tempting offer.
“That’s okay, Binnie. I think it tastes like soap and grass, but I promised him I’d give it a chance. Just the two green teas, please.” And you give him a sweet smile, just to make sure he knows that you’re not frustrated with him so much as your new dietary commitments.
You know he’s about to argue again, so you toss an appreciative glance around his coffee bar. “You live around here? I can’t imagine working every day like you do.”
“The apartment upstairs is mine,” He explains. “This café is my life; it’s not really a job anymore.”
“Wow.” Your soft voice is awash with jealousy. “That sounds like a dream.”
He hums softly at you, pulling the tea from his shelf. “It only tastes like soap and grass if you brew it too hot,” He says, and flicks on the kettle, indicating the thermometer on the lid. “If it tastes fishy, or sudsy, it’s either steeped too long or brewed too hot. Brew it low, steep it briefly, add a drop of honey, I swear it tastes like summer. If you don’t like it, I’ll give it to you for free.”
You protest, rolling your eyes nervously at his kindness, insisting that you’re not going to like it but you’re going to pay anyway. But when he hands you the drink—yours with honey and the boyfriend’s without—he urges you to take a delicate sip and watches your anticipating frown fade into pleasant surprise.
“Oh, it’s not bad.” You say, and beam at him.
He beams right back. “You want more honey?”
You shake your head. “No, this is fine. I’m still not sold on the flavor, but it’s not rancid like it’s always been from other shops. Thank you, Changbin!” And then you skip right out of his shop, on your way to deliver the drinks you don’t even like to your boyfriend.
But then, the morning that you arrive at his register with dark circles under your eyes and a downward slant to your lips doesn’t bring him the sense of relief that he thought it would. Your voice is low and unengaging as you order the teas, your smile unconvincing as you pay and leave without so much as a glance toward the TV.
Your boyfriend starts waking up earlier than you, leaving you to eat breakfast by yourself. It allows you to go back to your usual protein smoothies for breakfast, which seems to grant you at least a little bit of peace.
It seems that you’re still meeting him for lunch, because you still come in and order the two teas that you hate so much, but you hardly even talk to Changbin anymore. He watches your posture droop when you walk home, watches the way your muscles bunch and tense when your boyfriend looms behind you to greet you, hears the rising voices float across the street as you argue for the hundredth time.
Changbin hates the man who’s taken you from lovesick and floating on air to burdened and fearful. He hates the snippets of your life that he gets to see, the early morning sighs of disappointment as you realize you’re waking up alone again, the drag of your feet as you prepare to head in and grab the teas, your discouraged slump after lunch when your boyfriend comes home from work.
So when the morning comes that you arrive with your makeup sloppily done, tear tracks splitting the seamless layer of your foundation, and you order a single chai latte with oatmilk and extra cloves, Changbin smiles sympathetically at you and gives it to you for free.
He had watched you receive the breakup text over breakfast, his heart keening as you cried into your smoothie, his gut clenching as you sniffled your way through applying and reapplying your mascara, smiling proudly as you stared at yourself in your bedroom mirror and set your shoulders, determined to go about your day as you intended.
“His loss, gorgeous.” He says, unprompted, as your purple-tipped fingers curl around your cup of comfort.
Your eyes snap up to him, wide with surprise, and for a second his smile stalls. But then he reaches across the counter and presses a napkin into your hand, gesturing to where your eyeliner has fallen from your lower lid, and says, “I assume the tears, the single drink, and the lack of rancid green tea means your boyfriend isn’t in the picture anymore.”
Suspicion falls from your shoulders and you dab at your eyes brokenly. “Your tea was never rancid, Changbin.”
He reaches across the counter in a move that he, himself, wasn’t anticipating, and covers your hand with his own. “I know you’re having a bad day, gorgeous, but you can always talk to me.”
That brings a smile to your face. “Do you give all your customers such five star service?”
“Only the crying ones,” He winks, and then gives your hand a squeeze once he notices that you haven’t tried to pull it away.
You gather yourself with a bit of his offered strength, pushing your shoulders back and swallowing the next threatening round of tears, and flash him a smile that holds a trace of your old vibrancy.
He smiles proudly back at you. “Can I assume you’ll be taking your usual from now on?”
You nod, pulling a long drink from the beverage you’ve missed for so long, and give him the most beautiful sigh of contentment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Binnie.”
“See you soon, gorgeous.”
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It turns out, that ominous bruise on your throat from a couple months ago wasn’t a trick of the light.
You bounce into the café wearing a shade of green that makes your eyes pop, earrings jingling as you make your way to the register. When you take a habitual gander at the menu, as though you’ll ever order anything but your usual ever again, he sees it again.
Not greenish blue, like it was that time, but a bright red and darkening purple, freshly settling into the flesh of your smooth throat.
You’re chattering about something, his peripheral catching flashes of your teeth as you talk, and his ears catch the clatter of your bracelets when you gesture with a hand to punctuate whatever point you’re making, but Changbin’s eyes are on the faint handprint beneath your jaw.
A paper to-go cup, mercifully empty, crushes in his angry fist, and your words stop abruptly.
“Binnie?”
His mouth stutters open, mind searching for words to demand an explanation for the signs of violence against you, stare still stuck on the marring of your perfect skin and supple flesh, when a delicate blanket of warmth covers his shaking hand. His mouth clicks shut, gaze dropping to where your hand is wrapped around his.
“Binnie. It’s fine.” How you knew what is speeding through his mind escapes him, because all he can see is another handprint, this one wrapped around your wrist, barely concealed by the stacks of mismatched bracelets.
When he finally catches your eyes, you look embarrassed and ashamed, but not unwell. Your smile is weaker this time, and his fingers pinch around the crumpled cup when he notices your lips trembling. “Binnie, I swear it’s fine.”
He takes your hand on his as permission to reach for you, and he tosses the cup in the trash and leans against the counter, his hand sliding up your forearm to grip your elbow. “Is someone hurting you?” His eyes narrow and his head cocks to peer under your jaw at the large, obviously male handprint.
Now that he’s close enough, he sees redness on your scalp, thin spots in your hair, tiny specks of crusted blood. Someone’s been yanking you around by the hair, and he’s almost sure it’s not a consensual act.
His mind is made up then, certain that something bad is happening in your house after he’s gone, determined that he needs to stick around longer and make sure you’re okay. Some time between his afternoon watch and his early morning check in, you’re being harmed by someone much larger than you.
When he looks away from the bruise at last, feeling your perfectly painted nails dig into the muscle of his forearm, he finds tears in your eyes.
“I’m okay, Binnie, I swear.” You whisper, and your free hand reaches for the latte that he tried to give you right before he noticed your damaged throat.
He loosens his grasp on you—it wasn’t tight to begin with, but he doesn’t want you feeling trapped. Instead of helping you reach the latte, he brings his hand up and lifts some of the loose strands of your hair away from your throat.
Changbin hears your breath catch, sees the pulse racing beneath your ear, so he pulls back. He drops his palms on the counter and watches you with a frown, observing as you desperately try to collect yourself from the intimate touches he’s surprised you with.
He can’t do anything about it until he knows what’s going on, so he just matches your weak smile and clears his throat. “Don’t go letting someone hurt my best customer, alright? No, put that away, it’s on me today.” He makes a waving motion at you as you go for your billfold, and the tension escapes from your chest.
Your voice sings with light laughter. “How can I be your best customer if you keep giving me things for free?”
Changbin just nods towards your latte. “Get out of here, gorgeous. Enjoy your drink.”
“I always do, Binnie.”
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It’s your brother.
There’s a definite family resemblance in the slope of your noses and the bends of your knuckles, but the similarities stop there.
It’s after dinner that he arrives—two, three times a week—bursting into your house with no regard for your privacy or boundaries, rifling through the wallet that you keep on the mail table. His voice booms through the house, calling for you, so loudly it travels across the street.
He’s the reason you start coming in with darker bruises, poorly concealed by makeup on your throat, on your wrists, under your eyes. He’s the reason more of your hair tangles in your shower drain in clumps bunched together by clotted blood. He’s the reason for the spattering of bruises across the smooth skin of your chest, the reason you’ve stopped wearing bras with underwire that press into your damaged ribs for the sake of soft and gentle sports bras.
Your brother is the reason you sit on your bed at night, pressing an ice pack to your naked thigh where a faint boot print has stiffened the flesh. He’s the reason two of your fingers are wrapped and splinted, and the reason that Changbin has watched you sell your family piano and your late father’s expensive stereo set.
All for drug money.
Threats and violence and theft from your own brother so he can meet with his dealer outside the fourth street McDonalds.
Your smiles grow heavier and Changbin’s heart pounds harder as he watches you tremble in front of him, holding your latte with both hands. The expensive stones from your jewelry collection are gone, as is the vintage watch that your grandmother gave you.
It’s getting worse.
Your brother comes by more often, he gets more desperate. He’s no longer just looking for drug money, now he’s in debt, and you don’t have the means to help him pay it back. Not that he can be convinced of that.
You stop coming to the café. Changbin knows why, he knows you don’t have the money to spend on a drink every morning—even though most times he gives it to you for free. You won’t take advantage of him, even though he tells you you don’t have to pay.
Instead, he sees you tenderly rise from bed, walking on stiff and pained legs to your closet, dragging loose clothes over your mottled skin. You haven’t stocked up on your protein powder; it’s an expensive supplement, and your bank account is drained from your brother’s latest visit. Your breakfast is the last of your frozen strawberries, blended with yogurt and honey, and you sag over your straw like you can’t hold yourself up anymore.
He sees you bend over your work with your water bottle next to you, not having the energy to take your usual gym break. Instead, you nap.
You’re drained of money, drained of strength, drained of hope.
He sees you lock your door, and then sweep up the splintered wood after your brother breaks it down. He sees you block the door with a bookshelf, and then collect all of your books off the floor after your brother shoves it aside anyway. You try everything, from nailing the door shut to setting a burglar alarm, but you just end up having to clean up shattered windows or stand silently while your brother explains to the police what a silly misunderstanding it all is.
And then one night, the one night that Changbin has to stay late to update his inventory after his weekly supply shipment at the café, there’s a knock on his apartment door. He’s fresh out of the shower, upper half bare and a towel draped over his shoulders, one end of it clutched in his hand and scrubbing the dampness from his hair, when he swings the door open and there you are.
You’re a tortured vision in white; white t-shirt and white sweatpants, your face streaked with tears and your left eye swollen from a fresh beating, and you throw yourself into his arms like you’ve known him forever.
He’s stunned, panicking, desperate to get you out of his apartment, but he’s a weak, weak man because you’re wrapped so tightly around him, your hands pressed into his back, your chest flush against his, your damp face curled into his neck, and his brain just blanks out.
The towel drops from his grasp and his arms find their way around you. Whether it’s his heart or yours that’s pounding like a jackhammer between you is unknowable, especially when he breathes in the scent of you. He knows the smell, knows it like his own home, but it’s different when it’s directly from you.
You’re weeping into his ear, trembling beneath his hands, and he’s forgotten everything he needs to hide.
“Slow down, gorgeous, I’m here.”
You crumble in his arms, sagging against his chest.
“I’m here.” His hands smooth delicately over your hair, mindful of the abrasions that you’ve suffered, and his strong arms keep you on your feet.
“I need help, Binnie.” You weep, pulling back ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter open and it’s like the entire ocean is inside them. “Please, Changbin, I—”
And then it’s too late.
Your gaze drifts over his shoulder, and there they are.
The walls are covered. Printouts, pictures, drawings. You sipping your smoothie in your kitchen, you working at your computer in your home office, you tugging a shirt over your head, the lace of his favorite red bra peeking out between the hem of the shirt and the skin of your stomach, you doing your hair in your bedroom mirror.
You.
You.
You.
It’s too late. He can’t get a word out before you bolt.
Gone in a second, terrified by the man you had run to for safety, disappearing into the night.
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You pull all your curtains closed after that. The lights in your house are always off, a for sale sign goes up in your yard. You exist in the darkness, hiding in the shadows, suffering alone.
His heart breaks as he feels you slip further and further through his fingers.
You’re still hurting, still being hunted. Your brother keeps coming, keeps attacking you, keeps stealing from you. He’ll take the money from your house, too, Changbin already knows it.
It makes him angry.
He’s so angry, he hasn’t touched his camera in weeks. He’s so angry, he hasn’t swiped an article of clothing to hold onto the scent of you in ages. He’s so angry that your own brother has treated you so badly, that now all he does is watch.
Because you won’t be getting any more bruises.
You are so scared and tired of your brother’s treatment of you that you ran to Changbin’s apartment for the first time in your life, just to seek protection. You trusted him. You wanted his help. You knew he would protect you.
A million pictures of you aren’t worth that gift.
So he watches.
And waits.
And then, one night, just as the sun has disappeared beneath the neighborhood houses behind yours, your brother pulls up in the driveway. He stumbles out of his car, jerking with nerves, and pounds your door down, disappearing inside your home.
Each crash fills Changbin with rage. Each shatter, each groan of damaged belongings sets his blood on fire, until he’s across the street and on your porch. He finds the key where you’ve left it in the hanging pot and pushes the door open, skillfully dodging the creaky floor panels in the entryway.
The desperate grate of your brother’s voice worms into his ears like a venom, and the ensuing whimpers and cries from you settle in his stomach with painful weight. He rounds the corner and finds you there, your back pressed to the wall, your brother’s hands around your throat.
Your face is red from strangulation, your eyes wide and reddened from burst blood vessels, trails of crimson streaming from your scalp. Your brother is screaming about the money you owe him, money that he’s expected to find by some miracle after having already pilfered your paycheck earlier this week.
And then, just as your eyes begin to roll, you catch sight of Changbin. For a second, you freeze, and it’s fear in your expression as you behold the barista that you thought you knew, creeping through the shadows of your dark living room.
But then your brother’s other hand smacks against the split skin of your cheek, and your expression changes.
Changbin sees it.
You’re staring at him in relief, your mouth forming desperate pleas for help, tears spilling down your face in a sudden moment of vulnerability.
His chest clenches.
At your next whimper, he has your brother by the collar, hurling him backwards. At the thump of your feet hitting the floor, the rest of your body falling in a heap, his hands are fisted in your brother’s shirt, shoving him out of the house.
Your brother is spluttering and shouting in confusion and protest, while you’re coughing and gagging behind them.
There’s only a few seconds where your brother attempts to fight back, his wired muscles throwing stabbing punches into the dark at Changbin’s face, but he doesn’t land a single one. Instead, a deliberate blow strikes his jaw, knocking him back. Another hammers against his eye, and he sprawls in the grass, gasping for air.
You’re on your feet then, following them out of the house, standing on your porch as you watch through stinging eyes.
While your brother is stunned, Changbin turns and sees you, and he freezes. He knows he’s scared you. He knows he’s crossed every line of acceptable social interaction, and that you caught him red handed. He says your name, a whisper into the night, and your gaze shifts to him.
You’re thinking, panicking, mind no doubt tracing back through the evidence of his intrusion plastered all over his walls, the sanctity of your home utterly violated by his undetected presence.
While you try to make up your mind about it, Changbin can’t breathe.
But at this point, your brother can. “What the hell?” He gasps, breath clouding above his face. “This is none of your business, asshole.” He’s up on one knee then, cupping his face and getting his wits back.
Changbin whips around to face him, his fists once more clenched in fury. “Touch her again and I swear to god—”
“Binnie.”
Your voice is a song in his ears and his head snaps back around to you. Your hands wrap around his still tight fist, your eyes peering up at him in earnest. You’re leaning into his arm, begging for safety, and he sees the blood that spills over your lips.
You’re hurt, you need medical attention, and you’d rather be with him than with your brother.
“I’m gonna take you to the hospital, okay?” Changbin whispers, and when you nod weakly, he brings his hand to your temple. You’re hot, feverish, under his touch. “Will you let me do that, gorgeous?”
“You’re not taking her anywhere.” The voice is an inch away, and your hands grip Changbin’s bicep.
He reacts on impulse, shoving your brother away from himself, away from you, and can only watch as the larger man stumbles out onto the street, illuminated by the yellowish glow of headlights. And then it’s like that scene from Mall Cop—one minute he’s there, the next he’s been plowed out of sight like a sliding transition in a Star Wars movie.
You don’t scream.
You don’t cry.
Both of you gasping in shock at the completely unintentional turn of events, Changbin feels you press yourself into his side, your weak and bleeding arms winding around his back. He can’t believe you’re there, trusting him, clinging to him, but he holds you like you’ll disappear if he lets go.
He needs to take you to the hospital, let them figure out why you’re coughing up blood, check your bones for new breaks, but right now your face is nestled against his throat and he can’t move.
“You’re still such a creep.” Your broken voice whimpers, but your hand tightens in his shirt.
He could cry with relief. You’re not letting go. “I know,”
He gets a grumble in response. “You stole my favorite sweater.”
Not even the flashing red and blue lights speeding around the corner can take this moment from him. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’ll give it back.”
“Promise me you’ll burn the pictures.”
“All except the ones that incriminate your brother.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
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Comment a request to be tagged for Hyunjin's next week!
Let me know what you thought of this one! Thank you all for reading!
PART 2 INFO
tag list:
@whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @estella-novella @babyphotos0325 @softfor-svtptg @furfoxsake22 @tubelightanyaa @kayleefriedchicken @rockstarkkami @sp1derst0rrr @allenajade-ite @naraportokala @its-stayville-forever
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stvrkolya · 3 months ago
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BUNGO STRAY DOGS — putting flowers in their hair
Genre: fluff, com?
Characters: Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe, Nikolai, Fyodor
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“One second! I said no moving!” You said placing flowers on Dazai's head on a boring sunday.
You were almost done but your boyfriend would keep wiggling purposely to annoy you. God knows how long you were there with him, decorating his scalp.
He didn't really care about the end result. All he knew was he was enjoying that little moment with you. It made him relax so well.
Soon enough you were done. There he was with little sunflowers all over his head. Admiring him with a chuckle, you handed him a mirror.
His eyes sparkled and he was about to touch his hair but you slapped it away lightly.
“Don't.” You frowned and strictly warned. Afterall you didn't want your masterpiece to get ruined.
He looked like fresh coffee with decoration of sunflower.
“I look prettier than the flowers in the vase! Thankyou my love.” He turned to look at you with a sweet smile that made your day.
“Hm, maybe I should keep you in that vase instead.” You joked, kissing the top of his head.
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“The hell are you doing? It's been fifteen minutes already!” Chuuya groaned in boredom. You had made him sit in the same position for so long. His poor neck is hurting real bad.
“Almost done!” You quickly said. And took another ten minutes
“Finally done!” You cheered as you placed the last white daisy flower in the small braids you made.
“Cool cool now let me see.” He snatched the mirror from your hand which you were about to give him.
“THIS is what you were doing from so long?” He looked at you unbelievably.
“Cute, right?” You chuckled. You swear you could see his face turned a shade of crimson red.
“When can I get rid of these?” He asked, maintaining his tough guy personality.
“After a photo” You removed your phone to click a pic and he quickly started covering the camera.
“Y/n no-”
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Ranpo wouldn't sit still if you hadn't given him his favourite candies.
He basically gave zero fucks about what you were doing with his hair. He couldn't care less as long as he got his favourite candy to suck.
You placed peach blossom flowers on his hair along with some small ribbons and Oh you swear to God he looked so coquette. Very demure, very mindful.
“Aha I'm done.” You clapped a little for yourself for how cutesy he looked. Very ladylike.
“Are those ribbons eatable? They look very strawberry flavoured.” And that was his first question.
“What? No-” You rolled your eyes as your pink princess didn't listen and bite one anyways only to throw you a disgusted look.
“This... isn't strawberry flavoured.”
“Yeah ofcourse Mr. Genius detective, those aren't for eating.”
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“F-Flowers? On m-my hair? Why? I mean, it's my honour my sweet beloved, but why? What's the occasion?” Poe malfunctioned with redness.
“Nothing special. I just want to.” You smiled and made him sit.
The whole decoration process, he sat still like a doll to the point you had to ask if he's even breathing or not. The thing was he was kinda nervous to move even a bit and ruin your decorations.
You had to remind him to relax a little.
You were finally done putting small sunflowers on his head and yeah, he gave the perfect sunshine energy.
He looked at the mirror infront of him and smiled, his heart smiled more from joy though. He was just happy that you did all that pretty stuff on his head.
“I'll keep them in my hair as long as I can.” He said in pure bliss.
(Karl climbed up later and started chewing on your small flowers)
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Nikolai was the one who insisted on putting flowers in his head.
One day he just suddenly comes home after work with roses that he painted red.
“Love, Look! I bought flowers! Can you place them in my hair? Please please pleaseeee”
How could you say no to that puppy face?
You unbraided his long braid and placed the rose flower crown on his hair that you made of the roses he gave you. And oh how angelic he looked.
Looking at your reaction, he chuckled.
“I know my beauty is jaw-dropping, Dove. Close your mouth or a fly's gonna settle there.” He said giggling and closing your mouth.
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“Fedya, Can I place these lilies on your hair?” You asked, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible.
“Hm? Why?” Fyodor asked, not even lifting his eyes off his computer screen. The workaholic rat didn't really care about it.
“I uh... Just want to? Pretty please?” You pouted slightly.
“Fine I guess, If that's what will make you leave me alone for work later.” He sighed.
You started doing his bun and then placed lilies on his head. You had gender envy from this guy for five minutes straight. How can someone look so beautiful by being a rat species at this point than you?
“Seems like you're done Myshka.” He said, still not lifting his eyes off the screen.
“You look pretty.” You commented silently.
“Is that so? I suppose I'll keep my hair like this the whole day then.” He slightly looked at you and smiled a little that made you flushed as hell.
»»————୨୧————««
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sweetheartsaku · 10 months ago
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—HAIKYU!! various ; how deep is your love?
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a/n ; [gn!reader] kinda fem implied in kawa's and kuroo's 😓 do yall like the new layout?? c: suggestive if you squint extremely hard in kuroo's .. i honestly dont know if im writing this timeskip or pre timeskip its 3am 😣
— characters : oikawa, osamu, tsukishima, hinata, sakusa, kuroo
part 2 ! ♡ akaashi, kenma, kita, semi, kageyama, suna
jade vine !
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tooru oikawa ; SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, fana huez
has 'i love you' wars and he MUST win or he will tackle you (affectionate)
takes the BEST candid photos of you and puts so much love into the following insta post. has you as his wallpaper too (please match with him) (he'd also have a highlight just w pics of you😞)
please NEVER do that 'wipe their kiss off' trend because he will actually not talk to you for DAYS and gets all sulky until you apologize. (he will get all cocky all over again)
core memory from his teamates. bae was explaining to his teamates about new volley nerd talk blablabla and they notice his nails painted in a faint pink (for a fun date night, thinking no one will notice)
issei BURSTS out laughing and instantly points it out. now seijoh4 NEVER lets him live it down
always the first person to notice when you use a new shampoo or perfume.
cuddling, (you being the little spoon╰(*´︶`*)╯♡) you can feel his breath hitch when his lips reach your neck
before you could ask why he's stopped inching closer he's already manages to whisper out, "did you start using a new shampoo?" yes. yes you have
do his skincare with him please ! he loves it. he loves when he places you on the bathroom counter and you wrap your legs around his waist, he loves when you're so gentle with the toner, he loves when you graze your delicate fingers over his beautiful long lashes, he loves when you make sure you don't cut him when snipping the face mask so it fits a little more snug, EVERYTHING. (he is sunoo coded)
osamu miya ; good looking - suki waterhouse
loves your tummy SO much. doesn't care about shape or form, he just likes the feeling that you're being fed. squish. or pat. he loves it. have i mentioned he loves your tummy?
when his dad leave the twins at home its always osamu at the stove, please keep atsumu in a 5 mile radius AWAY from the kitchen
SPOON FEEDS YOU. please i need him. on days you're too tired to move a muscle, days where you're too sick to open your eyes, be prepared to feel his hand on the back of your head and one below your chin ready to feed you!! once you've sat yourself up he feeds you so gently... osamu miya i need you
when you're really tired from work, he will send meals to your workplace. if you work at home and sees you barely able to keep an eye open, you will see his hand under a spoon of your favourite meal. he's not the best with it, but he's trying 🥹 he means it with all his heart and hearing you say the food is really warm in your stomach, his heart feels warm too (о´∀`о)
my mans is SNATCHED. slide your hands around his waist, poke it a little do WHATEVER. your hands have probably been on his waist more than his hands on yours.
i think his core is pretty well built. have we seen it in the anime or manga? maybe. but from what i've seen, his physique is very 😳 (a tad bit better than his brother's i fear)
cooking together!!! different recipes each date, basking in each other's presence. its always so fun and the results are always almost flawless!
at one-point y'all were making cupcakes, it was literally osamu baking them and you decorated it.
AND OBVIOUSLY the basic, he would routinely give you handmade onigiri, in different shapes, flavours and whatever you like ✨
kei tsukishima ; the only exception - paramore
kinda scowls at you when you put your hands under his shirt but secretly really loves it so when you slither your hands away he instantly places your hands back and make sure your hands STAY there. bonus points if you have warm body temperature. he likes the feeling of your warm hands on his slightly colder body.
his wardrobe has drastically evolved from muted tones to slightly lighter and vibrant clothing ever since you insisted on getting matching stuff!!
WILL say he is not a jewellery person but collects, keeps and takes care of all the little trinkets you give him DAILY. he has a little sticker on the edge of one of his books and a little moon sticker on the end piece of his sports glasses
he also defineitely has really thick curly blond lashes. you say they are one of his charming points but he gets all flustered. when you insist to put clear mascara on them, he doesn't really look like he has a problem with it 🥹
what could his ahh possibly be listening to with those headphones on so often (real)
sends you playlists at an insane hour that go for insane amounts of time. but i KNOW his taste is immaculate. every song always gives you goosebumps or makes your heart tighten
please do a spotify blend with him (he was gonna ask you, but you beat him to it)(he was shy)
oh AND the shared playlists actually are insane!! so much good music all at once?? crazy yall 😭😭 (wave to earth, cody fry, the smiths, daniel caesar, rex orange county)
shoyo hinata ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande
honestly, out of all these men HINATA SHOYO is the BEST candidate for taking care of a person except himself. has no limits in his stamina, and will only listen to you when you ask him maybe its time for a break. does he overwork? not necessarily. does he work too hard? yes, in a positive way. please remind him to eat because he will forget sometimes
he will NEVER admit he likes being the little spoon LMAO he finds being vunerable in your arms a tad bit silly, and it bugs him. after a long week of practice games and insisting kageyama and yachi to practice with him the instant he falls on the bed, he finds himself melting into your touch. your voice gets a little more buttery and he loves it, falling asleep instantly
hes probably a hard sleeper too 😭 he wont wake up till he feels your cold hands on his face or the sunbeams from the curtain literally bleed into the sheets and steal its colour
PLEASE STROKE HIS HAIR. he loves it. he absolutely loves it. again, melts into your touch like ice-cream. his heart will feel tight and he has a lil' blush 🥹 whats even more priceless is his lips slightly agape after hes fallen asleep... how can you NOT love this man
one of the only boys on this list who will LET you put little pink bows or style his hair in braids and clips. (if you're imagining timeskip hinata, you have attempted to put a little bow around his bicep but you underestimated its size and it BROKE. gosh what an experience)
DANCES WITH YOU EVERYWHERE!!! omg i love him so much. doesn't care if you have two left feet, he just loves the feeling in his heart when he sees your smile as he spins you around. in the rain, in big empty rooms, in the kitchen, anywhere.
loves the idea of promise rings or little trinkets that ensure he gets to have you forever!!
kiyoomi sakusa ; washing machine - VANISHING GIRL, rosemary fairweather
PLEASE braid this man's hair. 😞 he pretends to despise it and thinks you don't notice when he literally melts under your touch. he feels safe 'nd comfy and hopes it lasts forever, when your hand retracts he has a lil' pout
notices when you've been wearing your favourite hood for a couple days straight, has a little scowl under his mask and throws one of his jackets at you. he only gives you the wind-breakers that are 100% cotton or the ones he just knows you like.
he uses this as an excuse to share his clothes with you. its safe to assume its his love language under-cover!
HE IS SO ASS WITH PDA all you get is him giving you hand sanitizer before eating meals or snacks. its only you though, don't tell him that.
BUT sometimes when he feels like it, he will take your hand and put it HIS pocket so "your hands are always sheltered from germs" now what type of bs is THAT. (you love this bs)
can be snarky. sometimes he gets the slightest eenie meenie miniest bit cocky, and its very noticable. has the ability to be a little bit of a tease but not in a pestering way more like a little smartass way LMAO.
tetsuro kuroo ; never lose me - flo milli
always has his hand in the back pocket of your pants. that was it. thank you for coming to my ted talk. (to feel your butt? no idea.)
tutor sessions always unbearable. either you're too busy staring at his biceps, or you're sighing that he's made a little pop quiz for you!! tell him it sucks please
if he notices it gets a bit too much or overwhelming for you over the week or before study dates, insists to take you out instead (what a gentleman!! kuroo tetsuro come into my life)
extremely consistent with routine. good morning and good night text DAILY no matter how busy he is, he WILL find a way (i like to think its his way or the high way #kingofprovocation /hj). very good at getting the things he wants in a non-manipulative way but with simply logic and brains
yeah as captain hes no. #1 but he is also no. #1 waist CLUTCHER. his hands are always on you somehow even in the slightest way, but never pervy. he just likes having his hands on you! bonus points if you have hip dips, he loves it so much. he finds it as a perfect spot to place his hands on (btw ppl w hipdips yall are BEAUTIFUL!! 🥹)
i feel as he has a possessive side as well. small, but more noticable compared to someone else. will not hesitate to stare someone (or recite chemistry nerd stuff 🙁) down for looking at you a little too long :3
when he sees you post or sees himself in your instagram or tiktok dumps, his heart tightens a bit in the best way possible. when you mention him in the post he only reacts with a heart but he's actually going insane
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pradabambie · 1 year ago
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the roommate. rafe cameron x reader x felix catton. pt. 3
masterlist
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"are you sure you like it?" you asked rafe for the fifth time, running your hands on your pink dress, trying to get rid of the few wrinkles.
"you look hot as fuck," rafe said as he planted a kiss on the crown of your head and playfully slapped your ass, earning a laugh from you.
"so, remind me again, why do you have to wear pink?" the blonde asked as he sat on the table, a blunt in his right hand, which he lit up "trying to calm the fuck down after the little stunt you pulled," he had explained.
"it's a little tradition felix and i have," you mumbled while retouching your mascara.
rafe rolled his eyes in response.
"can you try to loosen up tonight, rafey? it's important for me that the two of you get along."
you turned to look at him with your best puppy eyes, the kind rafe couldn't ever resist.
he sighed. "i promise to be on my best behavior," you smiled, "as long as he doesn’t touch you, talks to you, or looks in your direction!" he finished off with a grin.
"now let’s get out of here before i change my mind about letting you out in that tiny dress."
a couple of minutes later, you were already at the door of the pub. the scent of smoke and alcohol invaded your lungs, and the pounding music invited you in.
"there she is! over here, love!" lex called for you from the other side of the crowded room, waving his hand to get your attention.
the pet name seemed to annoy rafe, who clung to you possessively as you guided him to the table.
you introduced your boyfriend briefly to the rest of the people there, not that they paid any attention, except for a couple of your closer friends, who got up and greeted him.
felix saw an opportunity when rafe was distracted making small talk with one of your classmates.
he lowered his head to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck as he said, "you look fucking incredible tonight, not that i can say it out loud, but just so you know."
he winked as he stood straight again, making you look up at him since he was so goddamn tall.
"so, pink, felix? really?" rafe mocked as he pointed at the fuchsia shirt the boy was wearing, matching perfectly with your dress. "what’s that about?"
felix, catching the comment, grinned in response. "come on, mate, not everyone can rock the posh boy look like you do," he said, taking another sip of his beer.
as the night unfolded, felix and rafe engaged in a subtle competition for your attention.
if felix wanted to do shots with you while licking salt off each other's hands, rafe would get extra touchy with you on the dancefloor, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer and closer to him, so close that you could feel him.
and when rafe went into a full make-out session with you in a corner, a result of the building tension the two felt while dancing, felix got needy and wanted to take pics with you in your matching outfits. of course, he wanted rafe to take them, so he could stare right at him as he placed his hand on your waist.
he was getting to rafe, and he loved it.
eventually, you all got drunk and returned to the initial table, taking a break from the nonstop dancing and drinking.
the conversation was light between the few people left, and at one point, felix leaned in, his voice low. "you know, you and i should get matching bracelets someday. what do ya think?"
his finger traced imaginary figures in your hand.
rafe, catching wind of the conversation, shot felix a disapproving look. "she doesn't need more bracelets. she's got plenty. all bought by me."
felix chuckled, acknowledging the tension. "easy there, tiger. just a suggestion."
“i need to get some air,” rafe said to you as he got up from his seat.
“you don’t want me to come with you?” you were kinda worried felix’s banter was getting to him.
“no, baby, you’ll freeze,” he stopped you from complaining by planting a kiss on your lips, holding your face with both his hands. after that, he made his way to the outside of the bar.
you didn’t notice felix staring, and you didn’t notice when he went after rafe.
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omgsecretsecret · 3 months ago
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Mintitties
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Saw this Lino pic and couldn't help myself
Pairing : subby Lee Minho x dom gn!reader
Genre : smut/VERY suggestive
Word count : about 750
Warning : men wearing slutty bralette ; mention of handjob ; not very described oral sex (m receiving) ; mention of praise and 'good boy' ; implied public suggestive ig if that makes sense? (because of Minho's lingerie)
Author's note : I've been obsessed with Minho's tits chest for a while now and I had to write something about it ; it's a bit different from usual ; this is not proofread and I wrote it very quickly sorry ; the drawing on top is from "Master x Secretary" on Scan-Manga (it's a very hot, nice and short +18 yaoi)
First idea : Thinking about humiliated, shy Minho being scared someone would see the lacy little slutty bralette you made him wear under his very thin white shirt, just the thought making his ears turn red, and his dick twitch.
Taglist : @giddyfatherchris <3
Masterlist
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◍。⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠。◍
It's so hot to see the way his chest look so big now that he got more buff, sometimes almost like actual fucking tits when his tight shirts hug his body so good as he moves.
So when you randomly happen look for clothes and see some pretty little bralette's made for male bodies, your boyfriend immediately comes to your mind and you have to buy one.
Making him wear it was kinda hard. He likes this kind of stuff, but he'll never admit it, and you know that. He'd keep saying that such a pretty little bra is something you should have, but the way his ears were red from the second you mentioned him wearing it are a dead giveaway. Don't expect him to agree easily just because he is obviously turned on by the idea though, no. This man wants to look tough, like he is the one in command no matter what, even though you both know it is definitely not always the case.
You have to play a little bit dirty to get him to do it, almost begging him with pleading eyes as if you were the one submitting. It makes him feel powerful and he likes it. You do too honestly, he's so cute like this, trying to be dominant when you can always see the tiny little bit of cute excitement in his demeanor, so you let him have his fun.
Maybe he'll be a bit mean and make you suck him off just to be sure you want him to wear that, and you have to agree because it's just the best way to make him say yes, make him feel like he's on top. Plus it's not like you could ever say no to a dick like your boyfriend's anyway. He's always so gorgeous when he struggles to keep it together because of your warm, wet mouth, trying to suppress his loudest moans.
In the end it works. Obviously. He watches you swallow everything he gives you, cheeks flushed and hair messy as he breathlessly says he'll wear your 'stupid bralette' between ragged pants, and you can't help but smirk.
His chest has always been so sensitive, one of your favorite parts of his body to play with. He gets so whiny when you gently knead his pecs or suckle on his pretty pink nipples, it's just irresistible.
You chuckle lightly as he whimpers when you help him put the damn thing on, watching as his ears turn red and you can't resist the urge to tease him. He protests but you shush him gently, reminding him that he agreed on doing that today. He closes his mouth with a blush, looking away and almost squirming in your hands when you whisper a praise in his ear.
You pull away when you're done, satisfied with the results as you look at him. He looks so hot wearing this, so shy but so turned, so yours.
He gasps when he looks at himself in the mirror, your hands lightly traveling over his torso to show him every little thing that makes him so beautiful in it. He gets so hard in his pants watching the way your hands move on his body. He finds himself so pretty.
You can't leave him like that, not when he looks back at you with such big doe eyes pleading you to touch him. So you help him again, make him cum in your hand as you keep telling him just how much of a beautiful slut he is for you.
He is a mess by the time you're ready to go out. You picked his thinest white shirt for him to wear, an almost see-through one.
If it starts raining, he's fucked.
He eyes you nervously when he comes out of the room wearing it, asking if it really is a good idea. You just tell him that he needs to be a good boy for you since he agreed on doing this, and you'll be there to take care of him. He shyly nods and you give him a kiss, ready to leave.
But when you open the door and accidentally brush your arm on his chest, he fucking moans.
How is he going to survive the whole day ?
◍。⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠。◍
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do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation
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racecardilfs · 7 months ago
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anything - fa14 smau
fernando alonso x fem!singer!reader
summary: fernando alonso and his girlfriend break up, but is it really over?
warnings: fluffffff, literally all of this is just fluff!!!
a/n: i am so absolutely overwhelmed by all the support on aegean, i never ever expected anywhere near as much interest, and i am deeply honored. i kinda got some writers block for ionian, so i hope you all like it!
my masterlist ❀ part one
lewis hamilton's whatsapp messages
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your imessages
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instagram
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Liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, yourbsf1, and 223,473 others
yourusername you are the centerpiece around which i revolve 💕
francisca.cgomes: he better sleep with one eye open
yourusername: please stop threatening to murder him you’ll scare off the old man
charles_leclerc: no writers credits for the middle photo? i see how it is
yourusername: you know what you have to do to get credits.
user1: is that a LIGHT PINK BOUQUET? while you were sleeping stans rise up!
user2: the sunlight in that last pic is everything to me actually
user3: i’m glad it seems like she’s doing better!
user4: no but she's so real for the older man thing. I respect it.
user5: her new old man better not hurt her tho 😡
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Liked by yourusername, alexandrasaintmleux, yourbsf2, and 426,872 others.
fernandoalo_official Second chances are the most precious thing in the world. Gracias, mi vida, for the one you’ve given me.
tagged: yourusername
yourusername: i love you so much, fer. the joy you give me every day is worth all the second chances in the world 🫶
fernandoalo_official: te amo, hermosa
yourbsf2: i’m watching you, old man. keep your guard up.
fernandoalo_official: 😰 francisca.cgomes: you’re still on probation. yourusername: don’t scare my man 🥺 yourbsf2: fine, only for you wifey <3 
user6: y/nlonso truthers rise up!!!
user7: it's the way all the photos he chose for their hard launch are just her in a relaxed environment. no staging, just pure love
user8: okay now im CRYING 😭😭😭
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Liked by fernandoalo_official, lilymhe, maisiehpeters, and 396,735 others.
yourusername anything, anything, for another run with you ❤️
tagged: fernandoalo_official
fernandoalo_official all i ask for is you, amorcita ❤️
yourusername and you have me, darling
user9: he calls her AMORCITA??? LITTLE LOVE??? IM- 🥺🥺
alexandrasaintmleux: i knew everything would work out for you, you’re too perfect for each other not to be
lilymhe: fernando is on his tippy toes in the last photo bc he was worried he’d look short 🤭
yourusername: i love my short king user10: LMAOOOO EXPOSED 
user11: if fernando is a short king, does that make y/n his queen?
fernandoalo_official: si, she is mi reina 👑        Liked by yourusername
charles_leclerc: no pic creds? i see how it is 😒
yourusername: no pic creds for you until fernando wins another gp 😊😇
user12: god, i see what you’ve done for others!!
user13: omggg does this mean we get new music soon?
       Liked by yourusername user13: Y/N LIKED! NEW MUSIC?!
a/n: so thats part 2! its a little short but i wanted to get something out to thank y'ou 'all for your support! i have a few other ideas in this verse that might get written at some point, especially if y'all would be interested in some more specifically music based ones(i LOVE music). the line "you are the centerpiece around which i revolve" is from emily by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler, and "anything, anything, for another run with you" is from anything (demo) by dodie. seriously thanks so much for the support! requests are open :) also if you want someone to yap about some of the technical side of f1 (or open wheel racing in general) i love love love it so please come chat w me!
taglist: @callsignwidow @totowolfffcheco @formulaal @pear-1206 @caitlynsixxx
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poisonedprose · 2 years ago
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₊˚✧ phone lights up my nightstand in the black
bestfriend!leon kennedy x fem!reader smut
warnings: 1.6k words, use of y/n, curse words, iphone user (sorry android users), COP LEON!!, phone/facetime sex, masturbation (f + m), kinda cnc idrk, itsy bitsy tiny sadism (m),
masterlists , based on this pic (i wanna eat his collar bones), part 2
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The sound of Leon's phone ringing unpleasantly woke him up. The default iPhone ringtone makes him groan. He hesitantly lifted his head from his pillow, scanning the nightstand for his ringing phone. Once his eyes saw the phone and the contact name, Leon accepted the Facetime, only slightly annoyed now. 
"Y/N, it is one in the morning and I have work in a few hours. This better be good." He sighed. He took note of your camera being off even though you explicitly chose to Facetime him. "I can't sleep." Your voice was breathy and a little hoarse. "Can you talk to me until I fall asleep?" 
Leon would be lying if it didn't make his heart flutter at the fact that you called him of all people to help you. He sighed before setting his phone on the nightstand, leaning it against a half-empty bottle of beer, his body turning to lay on his side rather than his previous position on his back. 
"What do you want me to talk about?" He left his camera on, too lazy to make an effort to turn it off. His broad chest and arms on display, the blanket falling comfortably on his torso. "Anything." Your voice was even breathier than before, it concerned him a little, wondering if you were crying before you had called him, your camera being off not helping your case. 
"I can tell you about what I did at work today." You thought it was cute how he would sacrifice his very deeply important sleep to help you even when he had to be at work in just a few hours. "Okay." He could hear the smile you had on your face even though he couldn't see you. "Well, I woke up and then I had to go straight to work because I overslept. I had to drink the shitty RPD coffee." He laughed softly as you hummed along. 
"I don't know what they put in it to make it taste like it came from the depths of hell." He laughed again and was relieved when he heard your laugh emit from his phone. "It was pretty slow today, just had to look over some paperwork with Chris." You hummed again, letting him know you were still listening. "Like I said, pretty slow today. I don't wanna bore you." 
"Keep going, you're not boring me." Leon looked at the phone, staring a pink letter where your pretty face should be. "Keep going? Well, if you insist." He jokes but you don't find it very humorous, desperate for him to keep talking. "I thought about calling you 'cause I was so bored. I was just sitting at my desk all day." He admitted, a little shy to share this with you. "Why didn't you?" Your voice coming out whinier than you would have liked. 
Leon raised an eyebrow slightly. "I figured you were busy. Next time I will." He smiled, glancing at the clock that read 1:27. When he got no response from you he assumed you had fallen asleep. He wondered if he should hang up or if he should just leave the call going while he slept in case you needed him again. Neither choice mattered though once he heard the noise that came through the phone that you accidentally let slip. 
"Did you just... Did you just moan?" He stared at his phone in disbelief, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him, but it all started to make sense. The turned-off camera, the breathy and hoarse voice, the small whine that came with your words only moments before. He could hear your heavy breaths as silence overtook the both of you. "Y/N?" The way he says your name almost makes you moan again. "M'sorry." 
Leon stared at the pink letter, shock written on his face. "Sorry for what?" He asks hesitantly, wanting clarity on what you were apologizing for even though he had a pretty good idea of exactly what you're apologizing for. You stay silent again, unsure of what to say. "Y/N?" He says again and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something you'll regret. "Are you doing what I think you're doing?" He asks, feeling a bit bold.
"What do you think I'm doing?" He could hear the dismay in your voice and he couldn't help but laugh. "I think.. you're touching yourself." He spoke slowly, afraid of what you would think if he had gotten it wrong. You go quiet again from embarrassment, and god, getting caught is really turning you on. "Sorry." You mumble, hoping he won't hang up and never speak to you again. 
"Why don't you, uh.. show me?" You can see the nervousness on his face when he asks the question and you would be lying if he didn't look cute. You don't say anything as you hesitantly turn your camera on, his eyes instantly being blessed with the slight of your hand shoved down your pretty panties. 
He remembers when you bought them, texting him a picture and asking what he thought. Getting a boner in the middle of work and he couldn't even think of what to say to you without sounding desperate, opting for a simple "they're nice" with a thumbs up emoji. And once again, he doesn't know what to say while looking at the same pair of underwear. 
"Oh, fuck." He glances at the clock again, 1:31 AM. He could feel himself getting harder under the meticulously placed blanket. He could see the outline of your fingers through your underwear as you rubbed slow circles on your clit. He looked at the screen intently, neither one of you saying anything. "Do you want me to take them off?" Leon's breath hitched in his throat and he could've sworn he just saw the gates of heaven for a second. 
"Yeah, please do." You complied quickly, setting the phone down for a moment, letting a black screen overtake your camera before picking the phone back up, giving Leon a much better view than before. He can feel his cock twitch as he looks at the way your legs are spread, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy. "You're killing me, Y/N." He sighs as he tries to readjust his pajama pants. 
You continue to stay quiet as you brush your fingers over your puffy clit then dip them down your slit and tease your enterance. "Come on, pretty girl. Show me what you were doing while I was talking before." Your fingers pressed harshly into your clit as you bucked your hips at the nickname, making you moan at the sudden feeling. Leon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before returning his eyes to the screen, the tent in his pants getting harder and harder to ignore. 
He watches as you begin to finger yourself and you no longer care about being quiet, moaning softly as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Leon never found interest in watching porn, thinking there was no real point to watching someone so intimately but that mindset quickly dissipates as he looks at you, giving him such a show. 
He knows he shouldn't but he can't help but think what it would be like to pound his cock into your pretty pussy, the mere thought turning him on even more, if even possible. He grabbed the phone from the nightstand, flipping onto his back as he shoved a hand down his pants. He winced as he brushed his hand against his hardened cock, quickly wrapping his hand around it and slowly pumping it. 
"Are you touching yourself?" Your sweet voice echoed through the phone. "Yeah, I am." Leon sighed, his eyes still stuck on the screen. "Am I turning you on?" If it weren't for the slick noises that could be heard from the phone or the sight that you're graciously letting see or the sentence you had chosen to say, you sounded just like an angel to Leon. "Yeah," He laughed softly. "You are." He gently groans as he squeezes the tip of his dick, letting precum drip out for lube, some getting on the warm pajama pants.
"Can you show me?" His eyes widen in shock for a second before he places the phone on the bed, camera positioned at the ceiling as he shuffles his pants to his ankles. He quickly picks the phone back up, now angling the camera so you could see his twitching cock. "Woah." It was barely above a whisper but Leon still heard it, pride swelling in his chest. 
 "Wish you were here right now. Want you to fuck me so bad." You whine. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, your words shooting straight to his sensitive cock. "Me too, baby." You both continue to touch yourselves, watching the other as you do. Moans transfering through the phones’ microphones. 
"I'm really close." He admits a little embarrassed he couldn't last long, but the sight of you was just too pleasurable for him. "Me too, Leon." Hearing you say his name makes his cock twitch in his hand, pushing him over the edge, and painting his abdomen with cum. Your orgasm shortly following Leon's. 
"Holy fuck." He curses under his breath as he watches you fuck yourself through your orgasm, your legs trembling and fighting to stay open. "Look at you." He says softly as you pull your fingers away from your cunt, letting him have a complete view. "Need more, come over." He can feel himself getting hard again and he glances at the clock once again, 1:44. "Be there in twenty." "Make it fifteen." He was going to be so tired at work later.  
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