#made those for a record shop
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allfillernothriller · 1 year ago
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Album covers turned Animal Crossing New Horizons patterns, help yourselves!
The Clash - London Calling
The The - Soul Mining
The Stranglers - Rattus Norvegicus
David Bowie - Aladdin Sane
Placebo - Meds
Talking Heads - Remain in Light
The Selecter - Too Much Pressure
Depeche Mode - Some Great Reward
Paul Simon - Graceland
The Cure - Pornography
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viralarcadian · 9 months ago
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soo many slime sellers theme and scent their slimes based around baked goods, fruit, and candy
that means that something like og slimes really stands out because they do some uh. very interesting themes
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neighbourhoodtwo · 2 years ago
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ok i'm normal again
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babeyun · 2 months ago
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the same heart ☆ n.r
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synopsis: navigating the beginning of your first relationship is proving to be most heartwarming, including the list of firsts - particularly, your first kiss. genre: established relationship au, slight angst, fluff. pairing: boyfriend!riki x fem!reader word count: 4.2k rating: pg-15. warnings: swearing, use of petnames (baby, pretty, pretty girl, babe, etc.), that's about it LOL. listen to: those eyes - new west ; yellow - coldplay ; heart - dawn ; sparks - coldplay ; i adore you, dear - dwen author's note: as per usual, we've got another birthday fic! figuring out what to write took me a few moments but i will always pull through. happiest birthday to our riki! i love you, little guy.
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Things between you and your boyfriend were slightly awkward.
Granted, you'd only made it official a week and a half ago – but something about the way he didn't hold your hand made you feel a bit confused. The way he never got too close if you were over at his dorm for a movie night, the way he'd hug you loosely as he dropped you off at home after a date or just dropping by to check on you. The way he'd gently reject your advances at public affection, opting to smile apologetically as he ruffled your hair.
The way he hadn't kissed you yet, despite the amount of time you spent together, the many dates and what he thought were his unnoticed longing glances.
You were truly in no rush. You knew that this was something new for the two of you, the first relationship either of you had ever been in. You met a year ago, at a record shop shortly after your eighteenth birthday. He may not be into prolonged skinship or public displays of affection, but he flirted with you like it was nobody's business. He poked fun at you as you blushed at his compliments, eager to make you smile and eventually, you allowed his charms to make him a little spot in your heart.
So despite not being outwardly physically affectionate, he had a way with words that made your cheeks hot and your chest flutter. He never stopped flirting with you, even during the many dates he took you on – even with the onlookers, he never minded. Murmurs of pretty girl and gorgeous as he directed your attention to things or simply didn't feel like calling your name, careful maneuvers through crowded areas with his hand ghosting over the small of your back, playful pinches to your cheeks.
Your first date had been very different than you'd expected – the two of you simply perused a farmers market that was a few miles out of the city. He bought you flowers and lunch, and the two of you got to know each other better over stalls upon stalls of jewelry and fine linens, fresh fruit and chopped vegetables ready to be juiced. You'd fully expected him to want to kiss you as he dropped you home, but he only blushed as you made the move. His fingers pinched to your cheek as he stopped you with a soft shake of his head.
"Next time, promise." Next time lingered with a bit of tension, that date being the Christmas light show that came to town every year. He bought the tickets, he picked you up. The two of you opted to share a hot cocoa after seeing how big the cups were, and your lipstick stained his lips a muted berry color. You took pictures at a few trees, and this was the date that soft-launched your flourishing relationship on social media – him posting a picture of you staring at a pink tree with white lights and you posting a picture of a Polaroid a vendor took of you for a dollar.
But still, even after several perfect opportunities, there was no kiss. He dropped you off at home, letting you know he had a good time and wanted to see you again before the year ended. You nodded, and lingered at your door with a pointed look. He bid you a goodnight and you disappointedly said it back, slinking into your house with a dejected look.
The next date was unfortunately after the New Year – you'd gotten sick and he felt awful, stopping by several times to bring you soup and cold medicine. Your mother met him then, and told you that he'd make a great boyfriend – you'd huffed in response, muttering that he didn't even want to hold your hand. Your mother sighed and told you those things took time, to be patient, to be understanding. You slept on it, knowing it would be worth the wait but still feeling a bit undesired.
The date after your cold subsided was one inside – bowling and arcade games. You beat him by a landslide, your last roll a perfect strike. He complained the entire time the two of you wandered around the rest of the arcade, and only stopped when you pulled him into a photo booth. Your poses were of a shy couple just learning to be together, and you were honest with him – you wanted to kiss in one of the pictures. He looked hesitant, offering an alternative almost immediately and you reluctantly agreed – the last photo being of him kissing your cheek gently. He dropped you off that night with another press of his lips to your warmed skin, and a warm apology that you accepted quietly.
You felt your heart warm when you saw the photo strip hanging from his rearview mirror the next time he picked you up, a hole punched in the white border and a soft pink string looped through it. So much so, that you let it go. You stopped asking, but he continued to press gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead throughout the rest of your dates, accumulating to almost eighty dates within eleven months – you never went more than four days without seeing him in some way or another.
And yet, despite the flirty words, his touch remained reserved. Through eleven months, he swiped your hair out of your face, he continued to pinch your cheeks between his fingers. He kissed your cheeks occasionally, usually on the drop-off or spontaneously every once in a while. He upgraded slowly to ruffling your hair, tying your shoelaces, zipping up your coat. He was sweet, attentive, coy and he made it known he was deeply interested in you.
It'd been almost a year to the date of meeting when he asked you to be his girlfriend during the first snow of the season. The two of you had snuck out to a park late that night, and he was admiring the way you hung upside down from the monkey bars, before he offered to help you get down. You agreed, asking if he'd be willing to get something warm. 
You wound up in a little hole-in-the-wall ramen shop the two of you had gone to during one of your first dates. You recounted it, remembering how you'd burned your tongue on the broth and he'd sprinkled sugar in your mouth, stating he'd seen it somewhere. It hadn't worked but it was funny and you shared a laugh, when he cleared his throat and said he had something serious to tell you.
"Are you okay?" Your worried tone startled him, the way your brows tugged down and your eyes grew filled with concern. He nodded quickly, "I'm fine, I just…sorry, this is hard for me." "It's okay. I'm here." You reached for his hand, but quickly retracted it. He shook his head, reaching for your hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. "I really, really like you, Y/N." Oh no, you'd thought. He's going to dump me and we're not even together.
The very thought had made your eyes well with tears, his silence deafening as he stared at your hands. You wore a ring he'd bought you at a fair on one of your dates, the dragon egg-like stone shimmering in the low light of the shop when he finally looked back at you. His eyes widened at the sight of you blinking back tears, his hands quickly moving to cradle your face.
"Oh baby, don't cry. What's wrong?" His concern only made your heart sink deeper, the pet name he'd never used before flying over your head as your fingers circled his wrists, the metal of his watch cold against your fingertips. 
"If you're going to dump me–"
"Dump you? No, no, pretty. I wanted to make this official, I just…I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this–"
Your cheeks heated beneath his fingers, your tears blurring your vision as you looked at him. You blinked, a few tears sliding down your face as he tried to wipe them away. 
"You what?" He sighed, his cheeks coated in a bright pink blush as he cleared his throat. "I…want to be your boyfriend." You only looked at him, before letting out a shaky breath. "You are bad at this."
"Is that a no?" He asked meekly, and you swatted at his arms. "You're so bad at asking things! I'm crying, Riki!" "Baby, I'm sorry!" He laughed softly, holding your wrists in his hands. "I didn't know how to ask and I was too nervous to ask Jake. He's too involved in our relationship as it is." Riki rolled his eyes as you registered the pet name, your lip jutting out in a pout as you whined. "You called me baby."
His eyes widened, then narrowed as he thought about it. "Haven't I been calling you that? I swear I have."
You scoffed, "Must've been one of your other girls." He smirked, "Which one?" He didn't manage to dodge the soft smack you landed on his thigh, a pout on his lips as he rubbed his leg. "You want to be my boyfriend but you talk about other girls, we both know I'm the only one hitting your line up." "All the more reason to let me be your boyfriend! C'mon, pretty! I'll be the best boyfriend ever, I'll even buy your mom flowers like I did that one time when she was sick!" He folded his hands together as if praying, making you snort as you wiped your face of stray tears. "What took you so long?" He huffed, "I just wanted to make sure you wanted to be with me. Every time I see you I feel like I'm about to throw up." "Riki…did you just call me ugly?" You chided, and his eyes widened as he shook his head quickly, his hands cradling your face. "What? No! You're the prettiest girl ever, please–" "Calm down, you big baby. I guess you can be my boyfriend." You rolled your eyes, and his eyes widened as he leaned closer into your space. "Really?!" "Yes, really." 
The night ended with him walking you home, practically vibrating out of his own skin as he held your hand tightly the entire way. It'd given you a lot of comfort, but you didn't mention it as he dropped you off at home, your mother waiting on the porch with her robe on and an angry look on her face. She ushered you inside and you were grounded for three days before she decided it wasn't the worst thing in the world – specifically when Riki appeared with the biggest bouquet of flowers you'd ever seen and the softest pout known to man.
She allowed him in and you had a movie night in your bedroom, before he promptly kissed your cheek goodnight and went home. 
Fast forward a few days, the Christmas light show was back in town for the year. Riki bought the tickets, picked you up and you shared yet another comically large cup of hot cocoa, your lipstick a wine red this year. He held your hand gently, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin as he held you close to him. You scoured the different figurines this year, your eyes caught by the enormous lovebird display – two swans made by champagne-colored lights and formed into a heart by their necks.
You lingered a bit at it, letting go of Riki's hand to get a closer look. He took a few photos discreetly, before eventually joining your side and moving your hair carefully out of your face. "Something on your mind, baby?" He asked gently, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. You shook your head, smiling at him softly. "It's silly." "Mmh, nothing is silly if you're thinking so hard about it. Talk to me, pretty." He taps your temple, and you shrug. "It's okay. I'm in no rush." "No rush to what? Stop being so cryptic, you know it freaks me out. It's like you're plotting something." He pinches your cheek between his knuckles softly, and you roll your eyes as you swat his hand away. "You know, it's been almost a year since we met and you still haven't kissed me?" He doesn't meet your eyes as you say this, opting to look at the swans in front of you. "Mmh." He nods, before looking at his feet, nudging a bit of gravel with the tip of his boot. You calmly loop your arm with his, sliding your hand into his pocket and intertwining your fingers. He glances down at you, a soft blush on his cheeks that you want to attribute to the biting wind. "Why?" You ask, and he tongues his cheek before shrugging. "It makes me nervous, I guess." "Nervous?" Your voice is an echo of him, albeit slightly concerned. "Yeah. You make me nervous. I literally almost threw up the night I asked you to be my girlfriend." "Correction, you asked to be my boyfriend." You say pointedly, and he scoffs. "Me being your boyfriend makes you my girlfriend." "You sure like calling me your girlfriend, huh?" Your arm nudges him, and he huffs in embarrassment, looking away. You lean your head on his shoulder, staring back up at the swans. A cliché example of lovers, you know, but a lovely one nonetheless. 
"You know I don't mind waiting, right? I'm sure we will eventually." You murmur, and he sighs.
"I know, I'm sorry. I want to, I promise. I just…" 
You glance at him, the way he chews on his lip anxiously as he trails off makes your stomach sink. 
"I'm sorry for bringing it up, we don't have to keep talking about this." You pat his chest, an apologetic smile on your lips as he meets your eyes. They're serious, a look you'd only ever seen on him a few times. You drop your hand from his chest and he moves the two of you down the path.
You see a few more displays, taking pictures within all the decorated trees and once more paying the same vendor from last year for a Polaroid. You both smile and it goes into Riki's wallet. "For safekeeping," He'd whispered into your hair as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.
The two of you wandered out of the show hand in hand, and Riki offers to stop somewhere for dinner before he drops you off at home. It's routine, the way he opens your door, the way he buckles your seatbelt in for you. The way he hands you the aux and you play jazz fusion, Tutu by Miles Davis filling his car the way it always has after a date.
"I've never kissed anyone." He murmurs as you reach the first stoplight out of the show. His fingers are wrapped loosely around the bottom of the steering wheel, and you nod, looking at him. "Me either, it's no big deal. We'll learn, when the time comes." "It's not that I don't want to. You know that, right?" His voice is shaky as he flicks on his turn signal, and you nod again. "I'm sure you want to, but there really is no rush. I'm not the only one who's waiting, you know? We went on eighty dates, Riki. We've got all the time in the world." Your fingers toy with his earrings, before you card your fingers through his hair. "It's just you and me, yeah?" "Yeah." He's quiet, and you know it's weighing on him as the two of you make the drive to your favorite diner. The two of you share an appetizer, his head resting on your shoulder as you talk about your new part-time job and how you'd miss popping by the record store to bring him lunch. He listened intently as the food came and went, only responding softly to any questions you asked him.
It weighed on you when he was quiet on the way to your house, and how softly he bid his goodbye with a kiss to your hairline and his arm around your shoulders. "Sleep well, baby." Your heart felt heavy in your chest as the next few days went by and he seemed distant. You both planned another date for the arcade, and agreed he'd pick you up after his shift at the record store. You dressed casually, one of his old t-shirts and a pair of black jeans. You wore heavy boots to brace the cold, and nearly tripped over your own feet when he knocked on your front door
"Coming!" You called, your mother poking her head out of the kitchen upon hearing you yell. "Leaving already, honey?" "Yeah, date night." You reply sheepishly, unlocking the door with fumbling fingers and your coat half off your body, and opening it to reveal your boyfriend holding yet another bouquet of flowers. Your eyes were wide, as you stopped pulling your coat on. "For my mom?" You nod, and he shakes his head.
"For you. I'm sorry for being distant these past few days, it wasn't my intention and I'm sure it made you feel some type of way. I should've spoken to you about my feelings, and I know flowers aren't nearly enough but I hope it's a start?" He said meekly, and you scoff out a soft laugh, nodding as you take the flowers.
"Riki, it's okay. I know it's a sensitive topic." You smile apologetically, taking the flowers and turning on your heel. "I'll put these in my room, I'll be right back. Come inside." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a curt nod as he steps inside your house, closing the door and greeting your mother warmly. You quickly walk up the stairs, taking the cellophane off the flowers and setting them carefully in the vase you had sitting on your dresser from past bouquets he'd given you. You'll fill them with water later, you think, as you barrel back down the stairs. You see your boyfriend deep in thought as he and your mother speak, and you don't eavesdrop as you clear your throat. She stops talking, before giving him a warm smile and bidding you a good date night. You thank her, tell her you'll be home before the streetlights come on and a quick love you, bye!
"Let's zip this up, don't want you to get sick." Riki doesn't let you off your porch without zipping your coat up, grabbing your hand as you both step off. "Do you think you'll kick my ass bowling this time, too?" "I'm sure of it." You grin.
And you do. You take the lead within three frames, your boyfriend clearly distracted as he watches you roll strike after strike. You play three full games, his pout only getting deeper and deeper as you win each one.
"This is so unfair, how'd you get so good anyway?" He pouts as he slides a few coins into an air hockey table, and you shrug as you score the first point within the first few seconds. He gapes, and you just laugh as he, once more, loses this game.
The night goes smoothly, both of you scoring your wins and cutting your losses sorely. You both make faces at each other the moment one of you loses, but all is fair in love and arcade games when the night ends in the photo booth, your legs across your boyfriend's lap as he rests his hands on your knees. You fix his hair out of his eyes, the shaggy bangs tickling the bridge of his nose as you coo.
"Okay, how does my hair look? Frizzy?" You run your fingers through it and he shakes his head, watching as you dig your lipstick out of your purse. It's another deep red, and he feels his stomach fill with butterflies as you wipe the corners of your lips. "You look pretty." "You always say that." You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat as he smiles, softly flicking your nose. "You always look pretty, baby." You huff, facing the camera and tucking your hair behind your ears before clearing your throat. "Smile first, right? That's what we did last time." "Yeah, that's cool. We can do….the cat thing? For the second one." He holds his fingers in two upside-down Vs over his hair, and you laugh, nodding. "Sure, sure." The camera begins to count down as you press the red button, and you smile as it flashes the two of you. You both scrunch your noses, blinking rapidly as you maneuver your hands to fit in the frame for the fifteen seconds it gives you. "Smile, babe." You say through gritted teeth, and he does just that as the camera flashes again.
"Shit, what now? Uh…" "Kiss me." He whispers, and you nearly snap your neck to face him. "What?!" "Kiss me." His hand moves to cradle your cheek, and you grab his wrist, hearing the camera start counting from ten. "Are you sure? We don't have to–" "I've wanted to kiss you for a year. Kiss. Me." He insists, and your heads both turn as the camera boasts five…four…
"I'm nervous." You admit, and he nods. "Me too. Just trust me, baby." Three…two…
You both breathe in shakily, before softly connecting your lips as the camera flashes brightly. You don't move away as the camera begins its last countdown from fifteen, instead you lean your forehead against his. His eyes peer up at you, and you feel a giggle erupt through you as you press your lips all over his face in chaste kisses. His cheeks grow hot under your lips, and the camera only continues it's countdown as your lipstick stamps all over his rosy cheeks.
"Smile for the camera." He mumbles, pressing his lips to your cheek as the camera reaches two, and smiles bashfully as it flashes one last time. The two of you watch the two strips pop out, and you reach for them. You hand him his, your other hand softly stroking his cheek as you stare at the pictures.
"We're cute." You nod, and he only smiles sheepishly. "Yeah. Was it okay? The kiss, I mean?" "Yeah. And we have it now, forever." You smile as you tuck the photo strip into your purse. He nods, clearing his throat, hoping you don't feel the way his heart skips a beat at the sound of you subconsciously admitting to a forever with him. "So…dinner? On me." "Shit, you have lipstick all over your face." You wince, and he shrugs. "Call it a perk, I guess. You can kiss me again to make up for it." "You're not slick, you know." You roll your eyes as the two of you exit the booth, and you thumb at the lipstick on his nose, only successful in smearing it. "I'm serious, I'm only taking payment in kisses now. So…pay up." "Shut up." You press your lips to his chastely, before shoving your purse over your shoulder as he grabs your hand, making you face him as you tug on your coat. "Seriously, we can stop by a pharmacy and get something to wipe your face." "No, these are my battle scars. I fought relentlessly against my urge to kiss you for a year, I deserve to celebrate this win." He scoffs as he zips up your coat, and you only scoff out a laugh, slipping your fingers in his. "Whatever, loser." And you don't say anything else about it. Not when your waitress stares at him a little too hard as she takes your order, not when your mother gapes at him and you as he drops you off, and certainly not when he kisses you goodnight, a murmur of I'll see you later against your lips before you slip inside your house.
You flop onto your bed after your shower, assuming your boyfriend has long been asleep as you reminisce about the events of the day. Your stomach fills with butterflies as you cover your face with a squeal, reaching for your phone – only to see a notification that your boyfriend posted something on his Instagram.
You open it, seeing a slideshow of photos – one of you in front of the champagne swans at the light show earlier that month, one of the new photo strip hanging alongside the old one in his car, and one of you at the beginning of the entire ordeal. You're sitting at the farmers market, your eyes casted away from the camera as you blushed, likely at something Riki had said. You don't remember him taking that photo, but it doesn't matter as you listen carefully to the song he'd put over it – the melodic sound of Heart by Dawn.
You glance at the caption with a thundering heart, your eyes welling with tears as you read. @/nishimura05: two sides of the same heart, and mine that only beats for you. your patience is beyond me, but i am eternally grateful for the man you make me want to become. thinking of you, always.
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BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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hoseoksluna · 1 month ago
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LITTLE JUICE | JJK
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut, pwp
rating: 18+
summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.
word count: 6.4k
warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.
luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.
luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.
𓂃 ౨ৎ
taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 
@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 
@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo
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The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 
The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 
No BS by Chris Brown.
The song that started it all.
Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.
You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 
TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 
You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 
Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 
Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 
He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 
You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 
You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 
Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 
You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 
“You scared the shit out of me.” 
Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 
Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 
Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.
It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 
You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 
Your hips. 
A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 
He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 
You’re in trouble. 
Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 
Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 
“Did you get wet for me?” 
A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 
For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 
Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 
But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 
You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”
His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 
He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 
“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 
The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 
Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 
A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 
You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 
And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 
You place your hands on top of his. 
A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 
It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 
Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 
You hump him. 
“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 
This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 
But the moment is ruined all too soon. 
A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 
You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 
Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 
A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 
“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 
You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 
Smart man. 
“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 
He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 
“They’re gone.” 
And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 
A hungry look is wrung into his features. 
The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 
He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 
Five torturous days. 
“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 
You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 
The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 
He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 
You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 
“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 
Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 
You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 
Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 
“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 
You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 
He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 
“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”
And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 
You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 
And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 
“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 
Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 
You leak for him, nonetheless. 
Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 
“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 
Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 
But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 
Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 
The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 
Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 
Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 
Not even as you come down from your high. 
Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 
Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 
“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 
Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 
“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 
You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 
Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 
“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 
In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 
There it is. 
“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 
You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 
Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 
“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 
His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 
And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 
You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 
You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 
You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 
“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 
You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 
“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 
Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 
He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 
Your life is over.
“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 
He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 
“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 
And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 
The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 
And he doesn’t pull away. 
He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 
You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 
Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 
The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.
“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 
Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 
His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.
“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 
The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 
“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 
You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 
“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 
An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 
He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 
At home, you fuck him hard for it. 
With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can’t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 
He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 
And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 
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reidmotif · 3 months ago
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I’ve Got My Eye On You
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Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.
Word Count: 3.5k
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I’d always been good at watching people. 
My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times. 
And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries. 
Pay more attention, I guess. 
It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own. 
The infamous "Dr Reid".
His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).
 The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action.  Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that. 
I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it.  Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms. 
My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment).  When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet. 
I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life? 
Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life. 
I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him. 
At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry,  out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God. 
Like, come on. Give me anything here. 
Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now. 
Now? 
Now… 
Silence. 
Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late. 
A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home. 
I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and- 
He wasn’t alone. 
Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me. 
He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them. 
For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night. 
His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching. 
I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl. 
I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction. 
“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.
She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck- 
I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her  within one of the only blind spots within the apartment. 
I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?! 
I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him. 
I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.  
Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly. 
When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university. 
That was my cue. I turned off the cameras,  quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable. 
I’m  in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of  The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that. 
I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me. 
“I noticed that one first, you know.”
I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.
He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?” 
I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose. 
“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:
“I’m sure you knew that though.”  His smile turns into more of a smirk. 
God, did he have to be so hot?
“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him. 
“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity. 
I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him. 
He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.” 
I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.
“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.” 
“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was. 
“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.” 
“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring. 
“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room. 
I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do? 
“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure. 
“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted. 
“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?” 
I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?
“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was. 
I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.” 
“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.
“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him. 
“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.” 
At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh. 
“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”
There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.
“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly. 
He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed. 
“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes. 
I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want. 
I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him. 
“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.
“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze. 
Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me. 
I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name. 
He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed. 
“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?” 
I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated. 
“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.” 
He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure. 
I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me. 
Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself? 
“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”
“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss. 
I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment. 
“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”
I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically. 
He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy. 
Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence. 
“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly. 
“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to. 
“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face. 
“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily. 
“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.  
“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?” 
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okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!
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ebodebo · 4 months ago
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You and Simon had spent the better part of the morning indulging in the decadent breakfast you had prepared as the sun rose over the horizon.
He pleaded for you to stay in bed and not fuss about making him breakfast. He’d get you those bagels you loved from the shop down the road and some fresh cream cheese from the dairy to slap on top.
You leaned closer, placing a smack of a kiss on his cheek. “You deserve it, hon,” you smiled, slipping on your cozy slippers and one of Simon’s hoodies, happily making your way into the kitchen. He couldn’t help but sink into the mattress. How did he manage to find you? A divine blessing you were.
You thought you overdid it with all the food you made. Crepes, waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs, all to be washed down with some fresh-pressed juice from your orange trees—far too much for just the two of you. But Simon would be damned if he left even one piece of the crispy bacon uneaten.
“Good?” you asked with a smile, fiddling with a waffle on your plate as you watched Simon demolish his food.
“Damn good, baby. Got me such a pretty chef,” he muttered, biting some egg. You flashed him a smile, tipping your head towards him as you reached for the syrup, filling every hole on your waffle.
A comfortable silence fell over both of you. The occasional ‘clank’ of silverware and the soft hum of the heater kicking on were the only noises to be heard. The doorbell sharply rang, echoing off the walls of the hallway and bleeding into the kitchen.
You sat your fork down, easing your way up before Simon shooed you back down and placed your fork back in your hand. “Eat,” he mutters as he walks to the front door.
Simon swings open the front door to be met by the postman, who is staggering with excitement as he hands Simon a loose envelope. The postman tips his head slightly, viewing you inside, standing, and placing more bacon on Simon’s plate. Simon’s hoodie hit just below the curve of your ass, and as you moved, it shifted a little higher, giving him a view of your panties.
“I suggest you stop making looks at my wife, or I’ll do more than just kill that pretty pension check,” Simon says, ripping the envelope from the postman’s hand. The guy's eyes flick to Simon’s in record time, full of worry.
“I don’t know what—” he starts, his tone defensive.
“You think I’m an idiot?“ Simon stoically says, crossing his big arms over his chest. “Huh?”
“No—I, I,” The post guy stutters.
Simon raises a brow. “Can’t speak now?” The post guy says something incoherent, and Simon breathes impatiently.
“Use your fuckin’ words,” Simon hurriedly says.
“I—I you know what, I, I, I’m gonna go,” the post guy stammers, almost falling over the porch's front steps, flalling to his mail truck, but not before shouting, “The next shipping is on me.” You bet your ass it is.
Simon clenches his teeth as he closes the door, turning to see you standing behind him. “Baby, I think you scared him,” you laugh out. Simon reaches out, grasping your hand and pulling you closer. You yelp as Simon pulls you flush with his body, placing a kiss on the top of your head.
“Fuckin’ animal, that one,” he mutters into your hair.
Simon never really believed in coincidences. His brain was too methodical—calculated. It was something you learned from your long history together.
So, it was odd to hear him say to the police that it must have been a coincidence that the same day he gets into a scrabble with the postman, he goes missing and is then found dead in a lake with bruises covering his body.
It was definitely a coincidence.
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a/n: your honor my client didn't commit that crime! just trust me!
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checkeredflagggs · 5 months ago
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Glazed and Confused
Pairing: Lando Norris x Potter!Youtuber!reader
Summary: when lando fails to make a simple mug, fans direct him towards your YouTube channel
a/n: I took 1 hr long class on pottery and quit. Don’t like the feel of it, have mostly forgot literally everything about it so…🤷🏻‍♀️
a/n 2: I really struggled to get lando’s voice down and don’t really think I did. Oops 😬 will work on that for next time (also plz ignore that changing of the handles. I try to keep them accurate but again I’m not on those social media platforms so…)
a/n 3: I tried to make sure that this reader was never gendered or given a race — there’s one photo near the end that depicts 2 white smaller hands but I think that is the only time. Please let me know how I did, if you could
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Pottery Made Easy has posted
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potterymadeeasy
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liked by user1, user2, and 2316 others
pottermadeeasy: my newest video (mugs and bowls, pt 2) is now up! In it I show you ways to add a little flourish and decorations to the pieces you made from part 1!
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user1: thank you your majesty! Easy to understand and so so easy to follow!! (unlike my professor 🙄😬)
user2: right? If they either stopped mumbling or spoke up…
user1: might be asking too much of someone born in the 1800s 😭🙄
user2: unfortunately
user3: god your work is so gorgeous. Do you sell anything?
potterynadeeasy: occasionally! I’m based in Monaco rn and a friend owns a shop and sometimes they let me use a shelf or 2
user4: ohh! I’m in France. Plz plz plz make an announcement when you will next have some ready! I’d love to own a piece
potterynadeeasy: of course lovely 😊 vague plans are to have some ready in the next week or 2!
user4: seriously?!? Marking the calendar right now!
user3: you have no idea how jealous I am right now…
potterynadeeasy: dm me! I might be able to ship it to you depending on where you are!
user3: faints bless you
user5: landonorris here! They might be able to help you
user6: be so for real right now. It’ll take a miracle to help landonorris
user7: I hate to be a negative nancy but…yeah. That latest stream was bad bad landonorris
user8: I dont even know…that clay flew… landonorris
user9: would hate to be his cleaner…
lnupdates
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liked by user5, user6, user7, and 1,897,455 others
lnupdates: some of our favorite moments from Lando’s latest stream where he was attempting to make a ceramic mug…bowl? It was certainly an interesting one to watch
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user5: interesting is one way to put it. Tragic is another
user6: no but really…that was. I legit have no words
user7: he needs to watch potterymadeeasy! I love their videos
user8: oh? I haven’t heard of them
user7: they’re a Monaco based potter that has a lot of simple how to videos!
user8: just watched one of them! And god their voice…🥵
user7: oh my god right?!?
user5: but are they gonna be enough to help lando?
user7: well they certainly couldn’t make it any worse tbh
user9: you got this lando! Pottery isn’t something easy to pick up - you just gotta keep trying!
user10: yeah! There was definitely some improvement by the end
Bluesky
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Private DMs
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,790,469 others
landonorris: progress! these ones were mostly standing. I’m not done yet though - catch me tomorrow night giving it another go
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user11: those looked good! Most definitely an improvement!
user12: he’s almost there! It’s literally just the little things now
user13: oh how far we’ve come! In less then a year he’s gone from flying clay to something that could generously be called a bowl
user14: and an “artistic” vase!
oscarpiastri: definitely better then last time
landonorris: mate…
oscarpiastri: you don’t pay your cleaner enough
landonorris: mate!! get out of my comments
charles_leclerc: keep trying! Maybe one day you’ll get there
landonorris: yeah say goodbye to your Christmas present
charles_leclerc: 👎🏻
alex_albon: will be there! And will definitely be recording - gotta have proof 😂
landonorris: is it national bully lando day here or something?
user15: yes
user16: yes
oscarpiastri: yes
charles_leclerc: yes 👍🏻
georgerussell63: yes
alex_albon: yes!!
maxverstappen1: yes
danielricciardo: yes!
carlossainz55: yes!
landonorris: you freaking muppets!
user17: ok but am I the only one who noticed he kept looking to the side and like beaming?
user18: no but I thought I was going insane? Like he was so soft?
user17: yeah! definitely getting the feeling he wasn’t the only one there. Just who are you looking at?
user18: dare we say little lando norris has a partner now?
landonorris
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liked by potterymadeeasy, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 2,723,944 others
landonorris: haha! I did kt! A mug a vase and a bowl!! On to the next step - glazing! And you muppets didn’t think I could do it
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user19: woohoo! Congrats lando! Those look so so good!
user20: and those glazes are gonna be fire when they’re done. I use the same brand and colors he did and they turn out AMAZING
user19: ok don’t be shy drop the names plz
potterymadeeasy: those look great!
landonorris: thank you! Had a great teacher 😉
user21: ariana (potterymadeeasy) what are you doing here?
user22: thoughts are being thunk
user23: unthunk those thoughts right now
user22: sorry…thots are being thunk rn
user23: nurse she’s out again!
user21: really? Under my comment thread?
user24: I’ve connected the dots.
user25: you’ve connected shit
user24: no I’ve connected them
user25: god get a life
charles_leclerc: congrats!
carlossainz55: it only took a few months…
alex_albon: a couple of different throwing wheels
georgerussell63: and 3 different cleaning companies
landonorris: I’m gonna run you all over with my car
mclaren: legally this is a joke
landonorris
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liked by potterymadeeasy, danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 2,922,713 others
landonorris: first round of my ceramics are currently cooking in the kiln. Starting a new batch and stretching my creative skills
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user26: holy shit those look INCREDIBLE
user27: I’m so shocked! I just started watching the old streams so like in the course of a day he went from wet clay lumps to these masterpieces
user28: I’m so so proud of him - I’m currently trying to get into pottery and ceramics and watching him keep at it is so inspiring
user26: user28 you can do it! Persistence is key
oscarpiastri: man thinks he’s Picasso now…but for real congrats lando. Those look good! And functional too
landonorris: I’m only gonna give you the lumpy ones actually
oscarpiastri: I’m good thanks
landonorris: 🙃
oscarpiastri: honestly proud of you. You’ve come a long way
landonorris: thanks mate!
oscarpiastri: I’m also glad you can stop calling me crying about your latest fuck up
landonorris: you muppet!
danielricciardo: too soon to call dibs on that dragonfly mug?
landonorris: after the way you continuously kept laughing at me?
danielricciardo: in encouragement?
landonorris: 😑
danielricciardo: 🥹🧡?
landonorris: fine 🙄
user29: ok yeah good job on those designs and whatever but are we gonna mention those HEART MUGS?!
landonorris: 😂🧡😉
user29: get back here and answer some questions! What? Does? That? Mean?
landonorris: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨
user29: SIR!
maxverstappen1: i see you’re finished making my present but really? Matching heart mugs?
landonorris: not actually for you!
maxverstappen1: heart❤️ been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏
landonorris: …who are you and where is max?
maxverstappen1: I thought what we had was special
landonorris: not my favorite relationship anymore! Sorry 🧡
maxverstappen1: 💔
potterymadeeasy: those look good!
landonorris: I had a good teacher 🧡
potterymadeeasy: flatterer
landonorris: always 😉
User22: !!!
User23: shut up shut up shut up
landonorris
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liked by yourpriv, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 3,123,321 others
landonorris: kiln unveiling and some upcoming projects!
listen. when I randomly decided that I wanted to learn how to make ceramic dishes, it was mostly because I wanted to make something with my own 2 hands — and when I wasn’t immediately good at it, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was.
Its been a long couple of months with a lot of struggles but I can finally say that I’m proud of how far I’ve come. It hasn’t been easy but the journey and the process has been fun and i genuinely can’t wait to see what comes next!
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user30: I’m? Crying? 😭
user31: omg same!!! To see how far he’s come and to hear that he’s finally proud of himself too…
user32: we’re excited for you too!
user33: excited? For what? Some more mediocre “Art” by some mediocre man?
user32: go fuck yourself. And get out of my comments. And off lando’s page
used34: user33 how about you go get some sun and maybe shove some kindness up yours! 🖕
oscarpiastri: seriously, congratulations. Those look incredible
landonorris: thanks mate! I do appreciate your support
oscarpiastri: and my cupboards appreciate your work
user34: 🩵🩵 ahhh he’s giving away his pieces
alex_albon: it’s been a fun ride watching you!
landonorris: thanks i think
alex_albon: no problem!
alex_albon: and could you send me the name of your newest cleaning crew? They most be ungodly good
landonorris: and there it is… cleaningcrew
alex_albon: anyway i could get a series of mugs inspired by albon_pets?
landonorris: I’ll need a lot of pretty good pictures
alex_albon: on it 🫡
landonorris: in fact I might need to visit in person
albon_pets: yay! We love ❤️ getting visitors
user35: UMMM?!? That 5th photo?!?
user36: IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH? DOES LITTLE LANDO NORRIS FINALLY HAVE A PARTNER AGAIN?!?
landonorris: 🫢🤫
user36: YOU CANT KEEP GETTJNG AWAY WITH THIS
landonorris: 😂🏃🏻‍♂️💨
yourpriv: my love, I’m so proud of you! Putting yourself out there in the world to learn something new is never easy but you have done it with amazing persistence and talent.
landopriv: babe… you know I couldn’t do it without you
yourpriv: oh I have no doubt you would have gotten here on your own
landopriv: no. No i don’t think I would have. I’m a fast guy and I’m used to fast results. When I reached out to you, it was a last resort last string. If it didn’t work out with your help, I was honestly going to quit. You pushed me to get better, to stick with it till I made it.
yourpriv: 🥹🥹🥹
landopriv: I’m serious. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me — i love you 🧡
yourpriv: 🥹🥰🧡 I love you too hun
maxverstappen1: can’t lie — it was a fun ride watching you fail but I also can’t wait to see what you make next
landonorris: …thanks for your support 😑🙄😅
maxverstappen1: you know it!
landonorris
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liked by yourpriv, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,997,245 others
tagged: yourpriv, potterymadeeasy
landonorris: no time for a soft launch. Thank you honey for teaching me pottery and for designing such a bomb ass helmet!
comments have been limited on this post
potterymadeeasy: Lando! We had a plan!
landonorris: 🤷🏻‍♂️
landonorris: love ya!
potterymadeeasy:…love you too!
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shaisuki · 9 months ago
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃: A BULLY SATOSUGU SERIES
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— the following will contain warnings such as heavy bullying, nonconsensual actions such as groping, sexual acts and recording, dubious consent, dacryphilia, double penetration, anal sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, humiliation, degradation, drinking, drugs, implied drugging, overdosing, threats, blackmails, sabotage, allusions to depression/suicide, oc characters, fatphobia, gaslighting, emotional abuse, name calling (pig related names), mild injuries, praise. more tags to be added as the series proceeds. dead dove do not eat.
notes this was intentionally a lone fic with no future parts and here we are. the comments are what i didn't expect and completely blown out by the feedback i received. let's see how the series will go on. i thank you all from the bottom of my heart to those who commented, who gave the effort to reblogged and to the notes. it really gave me the boost to write more about this series. we will get to the revenge arc soon.
synopsis you got tangled with the university's golden boys and they made their everyday mission to made your life miserable. what happens if it gone too far? or was it already doomed from the start since they first laid their eyes on you.
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𝙰 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙲𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴
synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.
𝙻𝙾𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂
synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.
𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂
synopsis they didn't know that would be the last time they will see you.
𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂
synopsis you finally started what you want
𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴
synopsis a old memory surfaces.
𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙻 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂
synopsis after three years you're once facing again your tormentors. will you still be the same after that years or would it open new found feelings?
𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻
synopsis to break from the past you desperately want to forget, facing them is the only choice you have left to move forward and is forgiveness is easy to be given as it was forgetting.
𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝚈 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝚁𝚈
synopsis they meet you now after three grueling years and one thing's not changed. is that you still look pretty when you cry.
𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝙴
synopsis you got closure and it was rewarding as it was painful.
𝙼𝚈 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙹𝙾𝚈
synopsis the reason you decided it's payback time.
𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂
synopsis
SOME EFFORTS
𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔
▶𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝚂
synopsis after the punishment you took plus being sick gave them the reason to visit after your two days of absence.
▶𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰 𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃
synopsis a shopping trip with the two sounds fun but it's actually not. you hope that it won't be hectic for you and it would be the first they are genuinely nice to you.
— more to add
MOODBOARDS one | two
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taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade @definetlythinkimanalien @thulhu @mastermasterlist1p1
want to be tagged? just comment.
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spacegyaru · 11 days ago
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DON'T LOOK AT IT!
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your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (shidou, kaiser, sae, and bachira) was all around the internet. how would they react?
cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic, esp shidou and kaiser's.
a/n: i'm going to start this with characters who are most likely to have sex tapes first then i'll add other characters!!
masterlist | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, yukimiya) | part 3 (rin, isagi, chigiri)
shidou ryusei
this guy is a fucking freak. in your relationship with him, every intimate and lovemaking session must be recorded. he would watch it from time to time, and he may have even threatened you a lot of times that if you decided to cheat or leave him, he's going to post those videos online. that guy is 100% shameless.
if your sex tape with him goes viral, shidou would absolutely give zero fucks about it. he would be even smug and confident. even if you feel sad and humiliated, he's just going to make fun of you but would try to comfort you with hugs and kisses… and another lovemaking session together. this time, no cameras on. only for a while, until the issue dies down.
“awww, don't you want people to see how much of a dirty girl you are? you're even moaning my name loudly while i drill you from behind. or are you ashamed of you belong to?”
michael kaiser
another freak who won't give a a fuck about it. like shidou, he would act smug and proud about it.
his management told him that he could lose potential sponsors with that video alone. but he know that he's one of the best players so they couldn't just drop him like that. and apparently, he's actually right. he almost fired his secretary for telling him what to do.
if you feel humiliated, kaiser would try to comfort you. but his way to comfort you is not by words, not even by affection. he would shower you with gifts and designer bags, even with the management telling you to stay apart first until the issue dies down. he honestly don't get it. why do you feel ashamed with letting the whole world know who you belong to?
“what do you mean you feel ashamed? you were fucking me, michael kaiser. i'm no nobody. come on, let me just take you on a shopping spree and get this off your mind.”
bachira meguru
another freak, but also a sweetheart. not all, but MOST of your lovemaking sessions and intimate encounters are recorded using your phone. whenever he's away or on tour, he would watch it and touch himself at the thought of you. when you told him that your phone got lost, you were the only one panicking. he told you that he could just buy you a new one, but that's not what you're concerned about. the videos. THE FUCKING VIDEOS. LITERALLY. FUCKING.
then days later, one of your videos with him went viral. you've never felt so humiliated your whole life. but bachira was just like “huh? what's wrong with that? people already know we're together, right?” you smacked his shoulder with that insensitive comment of his.
hours later, bachira apologized to you, bought you flowers, and ice cream to comfort you. he realized that he did something wrong when you avoided him for being so clueless and insensitive about the issue. he also posted an apology to the social media, after his management and his own mother scolded him. he got extra scolding from his mom when he told her how you responded to it.
“y/n baby, i'm really sorry about it. i thought it would be alright because the whole world already knew how much we love each other. would you forgive me, please?”
itoshi sae
not that much of a freak, but you were the one who brought up the idea of making a video together so he could watch it while he's away. he’s not that much of a fun but would do it just once or twice during your relationship.
when the video went viral, sae mostly scolded you for it. he didn't outwardly ‘scold scold’ you, but he gave you cold shoulder. apparently, his management told him that you guys shouldn't be seen together in public for a while. he knew he couldn't resist if ever he talked to you even nicely.
you started crying because he really acted coldly around you. he sighed and felt guilty about it. so while the issue hasn't died down yet, he took you out for a shopping spree. he bought you some cartier jewelry and new designer shoes.
“jeez, stop being dramatic. we're going out tonight and i'll take you to buy that designer shoes you've been eyeing. but we're never recording any of our sex again, okay?”
a/n: comment down which character should i do next!! i'm thinking of hiori but idk, suggest more pls!!!
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chaoticwriting · 1 month ago
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Part 1
Fenton Crime Family 2
-Batcave-
The batmobile enters the cave with a resounding boom. When it stops, Nightwing, Batman, Robin and Red Robin jump out of the car with Batman going to the batcomputer to make a report. The rest go to change their suit when the elevator bell sounded. Out comes Alfred with a tray of tea and snacks.
Alfred: Returning early today, Master Bruce?
Bruce: *Grunts* Someone has already captured all the rogues before we reach them.
Red Robin: And Oracle can't find any footage of the person in question. All she got is blurry and fuzzy images and the next moment, the rogue has already been tied up. The only thing we know is that the rogues that got beaten up all are around The Bowery.
A revved of a motorcycle enters the Batcave and Red Hood enters with Black Bat and Spoiler following from behind. Red Hood gets off his bike and sits on one of the sofas while taking a plate of cookies from the tray.
Red Hood: I think I know the guy you are talking about.
Red Robin: You know?
Red Hood: Yeah. There is a new gang in The Bowery. They call themselves the Undead. Their MO is completely different from any other gang in Gotham.
Red Robin: So our guy is part of this gang?
Red Hood: Worse. The guy is possibly the leader of the gang.
Red Robin: What?
Red Hood: You say any video of the guy is corrupted in someway right?
Red Robin: Yeah. The image is blurry and the audio is unusable.
Red Hood: Yeah. That's the same thing that happens to all the spying devices I use on them. No recording devices can directly record the leader specifically but from what I know, the leader is supposed to be a child.
Batman: A child?
Red Hood: Yeah. And no. She will not get adopted by you. Apparently, she has a personal vendetta against rich people.
Nightwing: Welp. There goes my new sister.
Robin: I would appreciate it if father put more restraint on his adoption problem.
Batman: *Grunts*
Red Robin: What else do we know about the girl?
Red Hood: Not much actually. Most of the people around her are children around Damian's age so we can assume she is also around that age.
Red Robin: What about her gang?
Red Hood: Remember how I say their MO is completely different from anyone else? Yeah, that's because they don't seem to work like a gang.
Batman: Explain.
Red Hood: They don't partake in any illegal activity at all except for some sketchy gold selling that doesn't have any source. Even those golds are sold at a very high price because they are old gold. Apparently, the collectors are going crazy for them.
Red Robin: Then how do they obtain money?
Red Hood: Using their money as capital, they bought buildings and shops and made their gang members work there. Hell if not for the fact that I know it's a gang, I would have mistaken them as a company.
Red Robin: Anything else?
Red Hood: The leader also has a brother and an unknown sister. Both are older with only the brother ever showing up. White hair, green eyes and around Timmy's and Cass's height.
Black Bat: *Frown*
Spoiler: Wassup BB? Got any news?
Black Bat: I meet the brother.
Red Robin: What? Where?
Black Bat: On a rooftop. He says he is on the lookout for rogues.
Nightwing: You are not hurt right? He didn't attack you?
Black Bat: No. Not hostile.
Red Hood: I thought so. My underlings also say that The Undead is quite friendly. They wouldn't actively hunt other gangs unless provoked first.
Batman: Find out more about them. All of you go to bed. I will finish the report.
Red Hood: Well I guess that's my cue to go. See you never old man.
Red Hood then gets on his motorcycle and exits the cave. The others also move and return to the manor. The others realize that Cass is unusually absent minded the whole time they are going to bed. Cass is usually quiet but her eyes also show that she is not focusing on her surroundings.
She lays on her bed after showering thinking heavily on today's event. The guy that she meets on the rooftop seems so familiar to her. She just doesn't know who.
-The Bowery-
Ellie is not having a good day. First, Danny and Jazz are pressuring her to go to school at breakfast. She says she doesn't like school and their response is how can she not like it when she never experienced it herself. To that response, she has seen how Danny struggles with class and she is pretty sure he is not having fun.
Then there is that new gang that suddenly rises up. It's one thing to make a new gang. But then they have the audacity to send people to kidnap Danny. Sure, Danny is strong enough to raze Gotham to the ground if he wants to. But it's the principle that counts. She is going to punt their group to the ground for doing something like that.
And then there is this Arkham breakout. Why can't all these guys just stay in Arkham anyway? It's not like there is much for them to do outside. After she beats up Condiment King (Ellie swears she is going to kill this guy for covering her in mustard) and Professor Pyg, she gets the news that Danny has already beat up all the rogues near The Bowery.
On the bright side though, she met this cute guy named Damian. He has a little temper but not something she hasn't dealt with before. She is apparently some rich guy's son but she really can't see the similarities in their mannerism from what she sees in this Brucie Wayne guy. After talking for a bit they promised to go out on a date at a zoo. His dad sponsors it and apparently there is a new animal in the exhibition.
After all things are settled she goes back home to have dinner with her family. After teasing Danny a little bit about his date, she goes to bed excited for the date.
Part 3
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screeching-bunny · 1 year ago
Note
I'm intrigued by the idea of yandere priest harem.
Just a bunch of sexually repressed men that now have a tangible person to 'worship'.
Yandere! Priest Harem
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
Tags: @endism
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What the fuck. You can’t believe it but you accidentally started a cult. You weren't sure how but you managed to do it. Everything about it was planned perfectly for you. From the moment you were kidnapped to the moment where you gave in, there was always some sort of routine that the priest followed that seemed almost robotic. Every word or phrase spoken to you seemed somewhat rehearsed as if they were doing everything in their power to make you pleased and happy. Everything that you requested or asked for was quickly met. Did you just say that you were hungry? Don’t worry, wait a couple more minutes and a feast will be made just for you. Did something catch your eye while you were shopping? In a couple minutes it is purchased and given to you. Never in your life had you seen a group more downbad people then these priests. They are incredibly whipped for you and treat you as if you were some kind of God.
Although you were kidnapped you soon learned to just accept the role as their false God. Why? Well to simply put you were just plain lazy and if being kidnapped allowed you to live a luxurious life without needing to work then so be it. Screw having a job and screw having to pay for bills. You will accept this position with grace and take advantage of it however you would like. The only thing that bothered you was why the hell were people joining this stupid cult!?!? By now you expected the stupid priests to run out of money by now due to your spending habits but why on Earth are people still continuing to donate to them!?!? There just always seems to be a never ending supply of money!!!
“Did you see them? The God of this religion is such a cutie. Do you think I have a shot at becoming a priest? Hell, I wouldn’t even mind being a sacrifice to them.” (Go away).
“I just donated my entire retirement fund to them. It’s so worth it. Did you see how cute their sneezes are? I could literally just die!!!” (Then die).
“I shook their hand a few days ago with my right hand. I haven’t washed it since.” (Gross).
Dammit that's why. You're so called “followers” were nothing but a group of some weirdo simps. The only thing that you ever did around this place was give speeches to your cult that came right out of your ass and they would eat it up everytime too. It is so bad that you could literally say that the Earth was flat and they would go to war to defend that you were right. You’ve never seen a group of more stupider people. As of right now you were currently giving out one of those bullshit speeches to your followers.
“... which is why cats are superior over dogs. If you have a cat tell them I said pspspspsp.”
One of the priests raises their hand, “Can you repeat that whole thing again? That was super cute and I forgot to press record.”
Another priest responds with, “Don’t worry I caught it all and I’ll send it to you later. In exchange, can I have that limited edition picture of them sleeping with a teddy bear.”
Another voice shouts, “Wait! I have some never seen before photos of them. Are you willing to trade it for the limited edition picture?”
“...”
Later that night you soon discover that there is a “trading card game” going around the cult using your pictures. You weren’t even sure how they even managed to take these photos but they somehow have them and how were these mass produced without you even noticing!?!? Why are they out of stock and why are they so popular!?!? Everyday is a never ending migraine for you. Just when you thought the priests couldn’t disappoint you even further, they always manage to prove you wrong. If they weren’t the ones feeding you, you would have been long gone by now.
Waking up always felt like a struggle most of the time. Like it literally was a struggle because there was always someone in your bed with you. They would constantly cuddle up to you as close as possible and make it difficult to leave the bed with their weight holding you down. By the time you wake up breakfast is already made and there is someone constantly fighting to decide who gets to feed you. After breakfast, you stroll around the gigantic garden that was funded with the money of taxpayers. Afternoons are spent giving out wack speeches and talking to your loyal followers. Dinners are the same as breakfast and there is competition on who gets to bathe with you. Quite often these end up turning physical fights between everyone. During the night you're out like a light and it’s a repeat of everything the next day.
Every passing day makes you so concerned for the mental health of others. There is just no way that any of these people are mentally sane. They have to be on drugs or something. You refused to believe that these were rational adults that are contributing members of society. No matter how much you try to change your personality, they always find a way to coo at you. On the days that you act like a brat you are met with the responses of, “Oh my god look at them pout that's so adorable!! Now step on me–”. On the days you act lazy it’s met with, “You don’t have to move I’ll do it all for you! Just let me lick your–”. Are you acting happy today? Well that's met with, “Your smile is so radiant! You know what would make your day better if you let me suck–”. In the end though it really doesn’t matter because their main goal in life is to forever worship your being whether you like it or not.
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rafescvntyclubgf · 3 months ago
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+18
𝓔𝔁 𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓗𝓛!𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓼…
a ruthless enforcer who’s not afraid to get into a fight. Rafe’s an enigma. He only lets his guard down for a handful of people. To everyone else, he’s intimidating and cold
dressed in athleisure always, unless it is date night or game day. Cozy joggers, sweatshirts, v-neck t-shirts, and backward hats. He takes off his gold rings for games, but he never takes off his signature gold chain.
particular about his hair. He has a modern mullet with a longer fringe. He's always perfectly “undone,” removing his helmet and brushing his sweaty bangs off his pretty, chiseled face.
awful at dealing with his emotions. He has a temper—one that lands him in the penalty box often. It’s always a risk mic’ing him up because the NHL never knows what he’ll say.
an expert shit talker, chirping constantly. He loves getting in his opponent's head in any way, whether verbal or physical.
strong. Between ice time and workout, he's ridiculously cut. Thick forearms, massive biceps, deep abs and v-lines, and muscular thighs. Sometimes, he catches himself being too rough, but you swear you can take it.
so good at texting. He never fails to give you the butterflies when he’s out of town— sending you pics and texts just to let you know he's thinking about you.
a sweet talker. His favorite pet names are Baby, Princess, and Pretty; always laced in that deep southern drawl.
touchy. His hands are always on you: grabbing your hips, wrapping his big arms around you to give you a hug
posessive... He loves telling you you're his and hearing you say it.
an ace at the game. He’s known for being rough and tumble but has good hands and outstanding stats.
really, really good with his hands in more ways than one. His big hands can make you a wet mess in record time.
rich, and he loves spoiling you.
unreal in bed and his stamina is insane.
a sharp dresser. Rafe always shows up on gameday with a new designer suit. His favorite is an all-black Gucci suit.
soft around you. He's still rough around the edges, but he can't stay mad at you for anything, and you'd always get your way even on the little things, so much so that you'd tease him for it, which made him melt because “who the hell else teases him?”
always hurt. Walking around with a busted lip or a shiner.
a playboy - he was a fuckin’ dog before he met you, and those old habits were hard to break
always in his head. You're the one that got away, and he thinks about it often.
protective as hell. He checks on your socials nightly, making sure you’re okay
a jealous fuck. He’ll sabotage anyone who even looks your way without a second thought
thoughtful. He sends you your favorite flowers and that designer purse you had your eye on when you were together, waiting by his phone to see if you’ll give him anything even just a “thank you, Rafe” and he’d be more than satisfied
observant. Especially when it comes to you… He remembers everything: your coffee order, from the drinks the two of you would grab from your favorite cafe before the game. It's a little pregame ritual that he let you be a part of. He remembers your favorite songs, which is also part of his pregame routine. He loved going for a drive, listening to music, and hearing you sing along with your favorite songs, most of which he didn't know and didn't care to know; he just liked hearing your voice. He also remembers the smell of your signature perfume, the sweet elixir stamped into his memory. One of his college sweatshirts you wore the last night you were together is folded up in his drawer, and it still smells like you.
hopeful. He always sets a ticket aside for you just in case he runs into you before the game and you agree to come.
always looking around for you. At your favorite coffee shop before the game or places, he knows you’ll love, hoping to “run into you.”
reckless with his cash. Rafe went on a spending spree since cocaine wasn't an option: cars, watches, jewelry, trips, anything and everything to get his mind off you.
aggressive on the ice. Especially after your breakup, known for playing dirty. Samming bodies against the glass, throwing gloves for next to nothing, breaking sticks to get out his last bits of aggression before crashing down on the bench, burying his head in his gloves, only to go back out on the ice and crash out again.
humbled by his co-captain. He’s the only one who knows how much Rafe was affected by the breakup. He lets him know he needs to figure his shit out because it’s hurting his game and the team.
lonely. He dreads post-game losses because you were his anchor, someone who could ground him— focused more on how he was feeling versus the “game-talk” he gets from everyone else. At first, he hated it, but now he craves it, trying to remember those conversations and the sweet words you said on his drive home
really lonely… He hasn't been with anyone since and doesn't want to which is unheard of for him.
determined to win you back, which means that he’ll have to talk about all the shit he’s feeling, whichnhe knows is for the best. He’s trying to be the man that he knows you deserve.
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honeypiehotchner · 10 months ago
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kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot
Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently
Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance
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It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.
“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”
“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”
You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.
“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”
“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”
You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”
“Great, see you in a few.”
“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.
You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.
Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.
With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 
Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 
It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.
Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.
He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.
Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.
Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.
The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.
You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.
He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.
“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 
He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”
You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 
“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.
You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”
He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”
“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”
You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.
“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”
He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 
You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.
When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.
“Well,” you laugh.
“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”
You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”
“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”
“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”
“That could be forever, for all you know.”
“That’s fine with me.”
You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”
“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”
He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 
“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”
“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 
“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”
“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”
“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”
He smirked. “I noticed.”
You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”
He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”
“And then come back here for a movie?”
“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 
The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 
“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”
“…kind of.”
“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”
“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”
Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.
The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.
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theveryworstthing · 1 year ago
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Gloria and Phoebe!
i missed goblin week this year due to Situations but every week is goblin week so whatever.
Gloria, Dame of Daylight, is the titular host of of the spooky late day show Beam Dreams, which has a huge cult following among non-human and mostly nocturnal horror fans. she started the show 20 years ago after growing bored of playing the same role over and over in human-led productions and posing for monster girl pin-up gigs. she used the money from her former jobs to buy equipment, hire some buddies, and start her own campy public access show highlighting a few of her favorite monster-led indie horror films. these days she's going grey (well, greyer) and gravity is Happening which make her already racy costumes more of a gamble, but the show still holds the ghoulish charm that made it a success. 
Gloria leans more comedienne than dark and broody despite the media she platforms and she always has a witty observation or subtle joke at the ready. she also has a soft spot for physical comedy and will casually pull an item out of her hair or cleavage unprompted. she doesn't critique any of the work that makes it onto the show unless specifically asked to, but those segments are always fan favorites since they're always equal parts sincere, insightful, and cheeky. she's a real Character. 
Phoebe has much more humble origins. as a mostly mellow music nerd, she currently owns the record shop across from the Beam Dreams studio and lends her expertise to help with segments spotlighting up and coming musicians who fit the vibe of the show. she's found a lot of weird little bands for Gloria, and the current program wouldn't be the same without her. 
even though she makes an effort to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible, it's common knowledge that she's one of Gloria's close friends, which is good for business and also very annoying sometimes. over the years she's had to train herself to spot red flag Beam fans trying to cozy up to her for information or access to Gloria and now she's real mean about it when it happens. 
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fuzzythoughtsblog · 5 months ago
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I had a fantasy that I went to a best friends sleep over and ended up reading her older sister's diary :
Truth or dare
My friend says to me. I look in her eyes and I know I can't choose truth. She'll will come up with the most vile secert to get out of me.
"Dare !" I spit out in fear
"I dare you to sneak in to my sisters room read her diary and report back. " she says with a smirk.
Fuck me I tell her that , she's so childish. And that were on break from college.
"To bad, you pick dare or are you pussy? " she retorts saying the one thing that would convince me to go.
I'm not scared of her sister. She's only a 6'7 grunge base player who is 3 years older. What there to be scared of? It's not like whenever I'm here she rolls her eyes and slams the door. It's not like she refuses to eat dinner with us. Yeah and she wasn't to scary when she yelled at us after sneaking out to a slutty Halloween party. Fuck she hates me and I'm about to sneak into her room.
I decided to just swallow my fear and go for it besides she's not even home she has a gig.
I creep to the basement where her room is. Slowly the fear begins to still as before I enter her room I see the walls covered in electric guitars. Every color and style I could imagine. I stop to admire all the other equipment she has records, picks, amps and even some Cassettes.
I let out a breathe of relief as open the door to her room and she isn't there. Now all I got to find is that damn book.
I first go to her night stand and begin to peer in. I taking a moment to process what I'm looking a, Lacy lingerie. Upon realizing its contents I quickly shut the drawer. Embarrassed I move on desperate to get this night over with. I look at the bottom drawer and am left starring. Toys so many toys in different shapes and sizes. But what left me shocked wasn't just the various toys. I mean were both adults.
It was the was the paddle. Wooden and bigger that my hand I wondered why she would have something like this. With stupid curiousity I lift it up to examine it. The paddle was in perfect condition, like it had never been used. The thing has hearts cut into it and says in big black bold letters "Scream". I begin to put it back but as I do to other items that it was hiding catch my eye. A pair of metal hand cuffs and a strap harness. I can't help but imagine who she's been using these on. At that thought I quickly put the items back in and close drawer.
If she doesn't hate me, she'll definitely hate me now. I went through her stuff and I hadn't even found the book. I sigh before moving over to the other night stand and open the drawer. This time though jackpot the book was sitting in plain sight. As I pick up the black leather book I curse myself for not looking through this one first.
For a second I hesitate, this is total over step of her boundaries. Besides I could just go back and lie that I read it. I decided that a good idea but as I'm about to put the book back I think about how I could figure out why she hates me. I ponder for a moment but I got to know what I did. I open the book.
It turns out the book is less of a diary and more of a shadow journal. I begin to flip until I find a page about me. The prompt reads " What is your toxic or most obsessive desire? "
Slowly I take in what she writes. "If I had a second alone with my sisters best friend I think I'd devour her. " my eyes stretch wide as I keep reading. "The things I want to do to her body are just ... I want to see her begging and crying under me. I want to punish her for being so damn tempting with those little skirts and short shorts."
I bite my lip but flip through more pages until I see something that mentions me. The prompt "What is a bad financial decisions you've made recently? " I can't help but lean closer while reading. " I was checking in on one of the local sex shops I frequent when I saw a cute little paddle. I couldn't help myself not when I imagine her below me pleading. I imagined pulling her hair and telling her to shut up and asking if she was a good girl. She said "yes daddy" and fuck did that just scratch the right itch in my brain. I told her then she needs to take her punishment like a good girl. Before laying down on her ass while she screamed and cried. Of course I gave my pretty girl kisses after I bit her ass. I have to remind her who she belongs to. And now I want to buy her a collar. "
I'm horrified by what I just read but I couldn't put the book down. I continued on. "What is the most fucked up fantasy you've had recently? " "I imagine her coming to my house and asking for my sister like always but this time I walk her to my sisters room even though she's not home. I lock the door behind her and get really close while she backs up. She looks so cute and she's wearing that tight purple dress she wears. I grab her and begin to kiss her while she pushes me away. I bite her lip and she crys into my mouth while I shove my tongue down her throat. She fights me as I throws her on the bed. But I'm stronger and able to hold her down. She begins to cry as I rip off that stupid fucking dress and kiss down her neck to her perfect tits.
I then slide my hand down to her pretty panties and rub her clit through the lace. She makes a noise and trys to squirm away which cause me to hit her. I tell her to be a good girl and this will all be over soon. She fucking whimpers but stops struggling. I continue to play with her cute clit till she soaks her panties. I whisper "see you want this." Before ripping her panties off of her. And sink a finger in. She's so fucking wet. I slide another finger in and then another. Till I'm three fingers deep. She makes the most beautiful noises while I take her apart on my hand. The more I take her the more wet and docile she becomes. I fuck her like this until she's dripping down her leg and begging me to stop. She pleads so cutely I can't help it. I pull down my pants revealing my biggest strap. Pushing it in while she just lies their limp like a perfect toy. I slam in and out of her taking both her virginities on her best friends bed. By the time I cum she's quivering and her cunt is unrecognizable. I take a picture and drag her to my room leaving her juices on my sisters bed. So the most fucked up fantasy I've ever had is raping my sister's best friend on her bed for hours and its reoccurring. I'd never do it of course I want her to enjoy and consent to it I'm not a monster it's just a fun fantasy. "
I begin to rub my legs together at that last one. I put the book back having had my fill when I see her sister standing right there in the door way causing me to scream.
She looks pissed and close the door and locks it behind her.
"How much did you read? "
"Nothing" I shout frozen to where I stand.
"Bullshit" she says stalking closer
"Just the crush thing and it's okay!" I say as she gets even closer.
"Lier"
"Okay I read the thing about the paddle but that's it!" I wince
She grabs my shoulders and looks at me. A chill run down my back. I flinch.
Squeaking out a "Please, don't!"
She sighs and let's go of me before sitting on the bed.
"You read the fantasy? "
I nodded slowly.
"The rape one. "
I nodded again
She sighs "Fuck, this is not how I wanted you find out! Actually I was hoping you'd never find out! "
She puts her hands on her head.
"Sit down, I'm not going to actually do any of that to you. "
I sit beside her. While she remains still before taking a deep breath in.
"So you read it, why? "
I meekly say "A dare"
"Fuck! It was my sister wasn't it? I'll kill her. "
I stay quite she knows the answer.
She sighs "So what do you want to ask me? And then I'm gonna ask you some questions, okay.
I nod.
" How long?" I ask
She breathes "Since your freshman year, of course I wasn't going to act on it. It's just, I thought I thought of you like another little sister and then I started watching out for you. Which turned into watching you and before I knew it I couldn't look away. "
"Is that why your we're mad at us on Halloween that one year ? "
"Are you kidding me? You were basically wearing lingerie. I mean a skimpy pink bunny suit, I know you were a senior but still what if someone tried something? And on top of all that you guys snuck out! You know I had to hide that from mom and dad so you could stick around. "
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, you looked... amazing. Look I don't just like you because of your body, I mean don't get me wrong it's a plus but I also love your laugh. How your the first one to try to help. Even when my sister started doing her project last minute you where there to help. I love the way you melt around animals and your stupid dance. I like you okay. Not just what you have to offer." She says while looking up at me and holding my check.
We're so close. I lean in to close the gap but she pulls away.
"Don't do that, don't give me a pitty kiss! "
I lean forward "I'm not, I just want to try this. "
Our lips finally connect and its like electricity I feel it from my head to the tips of my toes. I shiver we break apart to breathe then begin again. It feels amazing, but not close enough. I crawl closer until I'm sitting on her lap and kiss her while wrapping my arms around her neck. The kiss begins to get more and more dangerous as we go on. Her hand begin to wonder and grip. While I rock into her lap. Soon she breaks the kiss.
"Hey, I don't know if I'm getting mix signals but can I touch you? " she says with her pretty eyes.
I pause for a minute then get a sly idea "Yes, daddy! " I whisper into her ear.
"Fuck " she says before pressing me down to where my back touches her bed. "Who knew you'd be such a damn brat. " she says while kiss down on my neck
I whine as she bites my shoulder. "What's the matter ? You've never been touched like this? "
She lowers her hand down my skirt and begins to rub while I stutter "No, then again no ones touched me. "
She pause "What?"
"You guessed right. "
"Are you sure you want to do this because we don't have to. I can... " I quiet her
"I'm sure , I trust you. In fact I want you to do to me what you wrote about in your little book. Y'know the thing with the paddle. "
"Are you sure that's a little advanced. "
"I'm sure, do you not want to? "
"No I want to, fuck I want to" she says while reaching into the night stand.
"Good, how do you want me, daddy? "
"Fuck your going to be the death of me. Across my lap baby. "
I lay across her lap. And give a wiggle.
"Let's see, how many spanks? Maybe 4 spanks for your 4 years of teasing. Plus 3 for the 3 pages you read. Plus 5 for that slutty fucking costume that had me salivating for weeks. So 12.“
I whine
"Don't whine or I'll make it 15."
I stop.
" That's a good girl. " she says while ruffling my hair.
"Now we're going to use the stop light system, along with a safeword. Do you know how the stop light systems work and have a safeword in mind?"
"Yeah my safeword is rock. And the stop light systems works like red means stop, yellow slow down or change what your doing and green means keep going. "
"Correct, now I'm not going to be upset or disappointed if you safeword or want to stop okay. "
"Okay."
"Good now, count. "
The first hit stings
"One"
The second one burns
"Two"
The third positively aches
"Three"
The rest hurt but for some reason it leaves me feeling dizzy and so good.
"Twelve"
"Good girl are you, okay? "
"Yes."
"Okay how are you, are you okay to continue? "
I nod
"No girl I need a verbal answer what's your color? "
"Green, don't stop I want you to fuck me"
"Fuck, okay baby. " she says before digging in her drawer and strapping into her strap.
I flip around and spread my legs out and put my arms up.
"Wait babygirl, I have to make sure your prepped. " she says as she dips a cloused finger in while I whine
"Fuck baby your soaked. Did my girl like spankings that much? "
I nod
"Poor girls all layed out like a pretty little toy. "
I begin to moan as she adds another finger and begins pumping them in and out with her thumb on my clit. Then she goes fast and pumps in and out harder.
"I know baby it's so much, my fingers are so much for you. " she says while working me harder and harder until fuck... She stops.
"Not yet sweet heart, your gonna cum undone on my cock pretty girl. " she says as she pushes in slowly so slowly.
After bottoming out she waits a minute and I nod. After I nod she thrusts shallow slow thrusts. That feel amazing but leaves me wanting.
After a few minutes of that I grab her shoulders "Daddy, harder!"
"Fuck." She says while rolling her hips.
She lifts my legs up higher to my confusion before slamming in hard. The thrust again and again while I just take it letting her use my body.
"There you go baby. Sorry daddy though you wanted to fucked like a princess. I forgot how much of a slut you are. " she says while still pounding into me
And then she begins to rub my clit. It's so fuck much. Fuck I begin to cry and whine.
"That's it babygirl, cry on daddy's fucking dick" she begins rubbing my clit harder causing me to scream.
"Daddy, I don't want to get pregnant yet. " I say through dazzy tears
"Aww " she says while rubbing and thrust like she was trying to milk more nosies out of me "Don't worry baby you'll look so nice with my kids. "
I feel my body shake and arch and then everything thing goes limp. And my vision goes white. I hear a soft buzzing and for that moment I have no fucking idea what my name is.
"Comeback to me baby" she says my head barley follows her eyes
"Was it good? "
I nod
"Good." She says as she pulls out while I hiss. "It's okay. "
She then lays down beside me and holds me while I begin to come back down.
"You back? "
"Yeah" I say voice horsed
"Okay we'll put cream on you and clean you up later. Okay. "
I nod and cuddle closer
"Okay and baby you can not tell my sister yet. "
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