#or any face skin products that are scented

[crippled-native]

disabled culture is having people tell you you’re collective conditions like Pokémon and you just want attention when in reality you’re actively in denial about multiple conditions you have because you already have so many and don’t want more

[godsfavdarling]

watching him

part of him (one-shot series), my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader summary: You help Spencer wash his curls properly. words: 1,2k warnings: most self indulgent fluff you have ever read, nudity/bathing together, maybe a bit suggestive but still sfw, no y/n a/n: I was in the shower and famously I have the same hair type and color as mgg and we would absolutely share our routine.

Spencer's head tilted toward you, giving you better access to his tangled brown strands. 

Your fingers, maybe a bit too roughly, moved through his scalp, detangling with a kind of focused care you hadn’t realized you were capable of.

You sat facing each other in the cramped bathroom, your legs tucked on either side of his while his stretched out around you, creating a tight but strangely comfortable space between you.

You couldn't help but watch him intently. 

With his eyes closed, unaware of your gaze, he looked almost ethereal—peaceful in a way you rarely got to see. 

His wet curls framed his face, softening his features, and the dim light of the bathroom made him look even more serene. 

There was something mesmerizing about watching him like this, when he couldn't catch you staring, when he couldn't see the way you studied every detail.

He looked so pretty, so effortlessly beautiful, that you let yourself indulge, longer than you should, in the quiet act of watching him.

“This smells nice,” he murmured, his eyes squeezed shut to shield them from your movements and the severe foam you created. His voice was soft, almost drowsy. 

He didn’t say anything more, but you caught the faintest hint of pleasure in his tone. 

Maybe he enjoyed this. Maybe he liked having his hair tugged. You made a mental note of that.

“I don’t really like this one much,” you admitted, scrunching your nose at the scent as you continued working the product through his hair.

“Really?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. His eyes remained closed, but the slight upward tilt of his head suggested curiosity.

“Yeah. It’s too intense. I liked it at first, but now it’s overwhelming.”

“I still like it. It smells like you,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

Not water related heat rushed through your body. 

You suddenly became hyper-aware of how close you were. 

You resumed your careful work on his curls, trying to focus, but it wasn’t easy.

You never thought you’d enjoy this so much. You hated washing your own hair, but washing his? It felt like a sweet dessert, a perfect indulgence after the cozy dinner you’d shared on the couch.

Your thighs kept brushing against his in the tight confines of the tub, sending a slow, torturous fever through your veins.

As if that weren’t enough, his hands found your knees at some point, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your skin. 

He wasn’t making your task any easier.

You fought to keep your breath steady, your heart from racing out of control. You tried to play it cool, as if having him this close, this intimate, wasn’t driving you to the edge.

Is this what it felt like? 

Is this how you know the bond with him is real? Maybe it wasn't an accident after all. 

You've felt like you dreamed Spencer into existence, like he stepped out of the picture you'd been painting in your mind since childhood. 

You felt like you dreamed him up .

And one day, there he was—alive, right in front of you, as if he'd always been meant to be.

And now you were squeezed together in your tiny bathtub on a Friday night, showing him how to take care of his curls. 

“Okay, I’m going to rinse out the shampoo now. Don’t open your eyes,” you warned.

“They’re still closed,” he assured, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

You carefully worked the water through his hair, rinsing away the foam while your fingers combed through his curls. You realized you might’ve been a little rougher than necessary. You gently squeezed the excess water from his hair.

“You have to get rid of the water like this,” you explained, gathering his hair and squeezing it upward in small sections. “Don’t straighten it out, just squeeze it up. Does that make sense?”

“I get it,” he said, his voice laced with quiet trust.

“You could do more complicated stuff, but your hair’s pretty gentle, so I think just shampoo and conditioner for curly hair will do the trick. Just... don’t brush it when it’s dry, okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated, nodding slightly.

“You only brush it when it’s really, really wet. Now for the conditioner.” You took the bottle and squeezed out what you deemed the right amount, showing it to him. “This should be enough.”

He nodded again, his head still hanging, eyes shut as the water ran over him. You carefully worked the conditioner into his hair. 

“You can brush through it if you need to, but don’t put any on your scalp. This one doesn’t need time to soak in, so we can rinse it right away.”

You gently massaged the conditioner through his curls before turning on the water again, running your fingers through his hair to ensure all the product was rinsed out.

You turned the water off and squeezed the excess water from his hair one last time.

Gently, you lifted his head, tugging it upward, and carefully pushed his damp curls away from his pretty face. 

As you brushed the hair from his forehead, his eyes blinked open, still sensitive to the bright bathroom light. 

His lashes were damp, and he rubbed at his eyes, finally releasing his hold on your knees. 

For a moment, you both just looked at each other.

There you were.

Both naked.

Taking care of each other.

What kind of dream was this?

Before you got to dwell on your life more Spencer broke the silence. 

“Now, my turn,” he said, his voice still soft but now filled with a teasing certainty.

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“I’m going to wash your hair,” he clarified, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

There was even more warmth in his eyes than usual and a quiet determination you weren’t sure you could say no to.

“Spence, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” he said, already shifting in the tub to give himself a bit more space, motioning for you to turn around. “But I want to.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of letting him touch you in such a way—this close, this tender—sending a flutter of nervous excitement through your chest. 

“Okay,” you murmured as you turned around. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle facing him now that his eyes were open.

You couldn’t take the way he looked at you. It felt too soft and too loving sometimes.

What did you do to deserve this? To deserve him?

For the sake of your own sanity, you shifted your focus to counting the tiles, letting the numbers steady your racing thoughts of him.

So close. So visible in the bathroom lighting.

His hands found their way to your shoulders first, steady and reassuring, before sliding up to your head. 

His fingers, surprisingly deft, massaged your scalp with slow, deliberate movements, while his other hand held the showerhead, gently wetting your hair. 

You hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel, how effortlessly the tension in your body would melt away under his careful touch.

“I’ll be gentle,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to him. Letting him watch you.

[ja3yun]

Stitch Me Up | L.HS

underground fighter!heeseung x nurse!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), ex heeseung, unprotected sex, cream pie, weapon and blood mention, if i missed anything lmk!

wc: 4.5k+

synopsis: after a tough shift in the hospital all you wanted was to rid yourself of the tension and your ex turns up just in time

a/n: hi! hope you're all doing well. a quick one shot from me so i hope you like it. not much to say on this one <3 ilysm

Dragging your feet behind you, you unlock your door. Everything that went wrong today could have gone wrong; first, you caught your fingers in the mobile hoist, a patient spat in your face, and you spent the last 30 minutes of your shift cleaning shit from the toilets.

No one ever said being a nurse was a glamorous job, but on days like these, you wish you picked something a little more dignifying. 

You kick your shoes off and head to your bedroom to grab some pajamas. Every bit of you is emotionally and physically drained, this past month has been exhausting. Working 70-hour weeks and being underpaid for it was starting to take its toll on your fragile body.

Nights like these you miss Heeseung, you shouldn’t but you do. 

Picking up scattered clothes that made a mess of your bedroom floor, you groan when your lower back aches. Someone in their 20s shouldn’t be in this much pain. They should be living their best life, staying up late, going out at the weekend, and having a healthy social life. 

You love your job, it’s rewarding and you love to take care of people. Seeing people who are in your ward get better makes your heart feel full like your life is actually worth something and doing some good in this shitty world.

You used to have balance. Heeseung was your balance. 

Sifting through your drawers you find some pink shorts with white love hearts and a cropped white tank top. Usually, you would settle for a set of sweats and a baggy t-shirt but after practically spending 3 days straight in unflattering scrubs you wanted something pretty.

When you walk you can feel the pain in your feet, and blisters start to form. You needed this shower asap. Luckily the bathroom is less than 5 steps away from your bedroom door so you can keep your hobbling to a minimum. The shower is so enticing as you switch the button on and set the temperature just right, or in your case, scolding hot.

A roasting hot shower is what you need to forget today. You need Heeseung’s hands to melt away the pain.

You miss him.

Heeseung and you have been broken up for precisely 1 month and 13 days. For some reason today you can’t shake him off your mind. 

The water cascades down your skin, tiny droplets sit on your face as you wash your hair. The smell of coconut fills the tiny box bathroom and for the first time today, you feel content.

After you rinse the conditioner from your hair and wash your body with a matching scented soap, you pull the shower curtain back and step out carefully - the last thing you need is to fall and break a bone.

Wiping the mirror to rid it of the steam you stare at yourself. The dark circles under your eyes and the redness of your cheeks showcase just how tired your body is. Nothing an overpriced and overrated skincare routine can’t fix. You grab the cleanser and start your regime. It reminds you of him, how he used to always help you, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing the product into your skin, and when he had any left over he would use it on himself. He looked so cute and sweet during those times.

What is with you today? Why do you keep thinking about him?

Quickly, you dry your hair and body with the towel and get ready for bed. Typically, you would sit up and watch an episode or two of Brooklyn 99 but honestly, you’re too burnt out to enjoy it.

As you leave the bathroom there is a knock at the door and you freeze on sight. It’s late and none of your friends would come over, so your brain goes into panic mode. Being a girl alone in her flat was scary enough these days never mind taking in the factor of the time. All the lights are off so hopefully if you just stay still, they’ll leave.

Another knock.

Grabbing a coat hanger from the clothesline in the bathroom you arm yourself with it, it would do enough damage to the person on the other side of the door if you had to escape. 

So you couldn’t second guess yourself, you briskly tiptoed to the door and swung it open, hanger tightly in your grip ready to swing.

The figure turns around and jumps, backing up when they see the coathanger ready to be lobbed at their face.

“Woah, Y/N. It’s just me.” He puts his hands in front of him in defense.

Heeseung.

You breathe out and relax, dropping your arms to your side. Although your exterior seems to have gotten over the fright, your heart is thumping still. That could be because when you look him in the eyes finally you register who he is.

“Heeseung it’s past midnight, what are you doing here?” 

He steps forward and you see his face battered and bruised, his lip has been bust open and a black eye forming on the left side of his face, he was a mess. There have been countless times he’s looked like this, it’s how you two met.

A year ago there was a knock on your door, not unlike tonight, except that time your friend Jongseong was carrying a half-to-life version of Heeseung. The boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet.

“Y/N, sorry, I didn’t know where to go, he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Jongseong explained, although it didn’t clear anything up.

“What the fuck, Jongie, who is this?” You grab the other side of the spent boy and sit him down on the couch, “What happened to him?” Looking at the guy in front of you, you see the blood on his t-shirt, slash marks on his arms, and his face is blown out.

Jongseong rushes to get the first aid kit from your bathroom, “He was fighting tonight and some arsehole pulled a knife on him, and got him in the stomach a few times,” You lift the fabric covering his torso and see wounds bleeding, “I tried to pull him out of the fight but he wasn’t having it.”

You don’t know a lot about Jongseong’s work life, all you know is that by day he’s a simple office body, filling, paperwork, a pen pusher of sorts. But when night came he was an underground fighter, all of it illegal, but he fell into it with some guys at the gym. From what you hear he is pretty good at it.

“Heeseung, buddy?” Jongseong slaps the boy's face a few times, “Stay awake, this is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” So his name was Heeseung.

“Jongie, these are pretty serious, he needs to go to the hospital.”

“No hospital.” Heeseung coughs out. You suppose if you take him to A&E how could any of them explain what happened? 

You rub his legs to soothe him, “Okay, no hospital.” 

That night you stitched his wounds and cleaned him up. Obviously, he survived, and you took him in like an injured winged bird. Let him stay at yours for 2 weeks, and by the time he was ready to fly away back into the world, you wanted him to stay forever.

You look him up and down to take in his outfit, he wasn’t wearing sweats so this wasn’t a scheduled fight, instead, he was clad in jeans, a White Stripes t-shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket, “What the fuck happened, Heeseung?” 

“Is it lame if I say you should see the other guy?” He laughs but nothing is funny. 

Stepping aside you let him into your flat which he does like second nature, his shoes left exactly where they used to go, “Heeseung you can’t just come here looking like this and not tell me what happened.” On autopilot, you go to get the first aid kit.

He takes a seat on your kitchen counter and looks around, “Nothing much happened, some guys being dicks.” 

You come back from the bathroom and see him atop your kitchen, “Eh, get down from there. Now.” He always perched himself on anything but a seat. It didn’t bother you too much but right now after your shift, you couldn’t be arsed to pander to it, “Try and treat my place with a bit of respect please.”

Heeseung jumps off and walks to take a seat on the edge of your couch. It might be wrong of you to think it but he does look beautiful like this. You blame Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil for your attraction to busted up men.

As you open the first aid kit you feel his eyes on you, “Why did you come here, Heeseung? You could have treated this yourself.”

“I missed you.” He confesses and it’s true he did miss you. 

For the past month he’s been throwing himself into fights he knows he won’t win just to feel something other than heartache. In spite of his cold attitude and reckless behaviour, he held your love so gently in his heart that he couldn’t even act tough around you. From the first day he laid eyes on you, he knew you had to be his, and if that meant opening up his heart, that’s what he did. 

A first he thought it was because you were fixing his wounds and he owed you something but that thought quickly vanished when you fixed more than that. 

“Heeseung, we broke up. It’s done.” You say coldly. With the thoughts of missing him earlier still fresh in your brain, you had to nip this in the bud.

When you broke up with Heeseung it wasn’t exactly because you wanted to, it was to protect yourself. His lifestyle and yours don’t mix, he was always getting into trouble and you were trying to avoid it at all costs. But more importantly than that, you couldn’t see the man you love come home every night exactly how he is now, broken and beaten. 

The deeper into the fight circuit Heeseung got, the more dangerous it was. People were pulling knives, guns, and bringing back up, all for the sake of making sure their bosses won the bets. Your ex-boyfriend was a great fighter - or so you’ve heard, he never let you come to any of the fights - but these other guys played dirty and it was a threat to his life. 

So when you asked him to stop and he said no, you did what you had to and called it off. You lost sleep, precious never to be taken for granted sleep, every night he fought and it was taking its toll on you. You tried to compromise with him and pleaded with him to go back to the regulated (if you could even call them that) fights, the ones where the stakes are lower.

However, Heeseung was above that now, too much of a hot commodity. 

“Baby, I’m making us enough money so you don’t have to do so much overtime.”

“Seungie, I’m a nurse, all we do is overtime. Plus, this shouldn’t be about the money, it’s about your safety.” Your voice is cracking with every sentence you have uttered tonight, but he still won’t listen, “I’m not asking you to give it up, but please stop taking these high-stakes fights, you’re going to get killed.”

Heeseung scoffs and places a hand on your shoulder, “I won’t die, I’ve got you to stitch me up.”

“No, Seungie, you don’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

It was a brutal way to end it, none of you walked into that conversation expecting that outcome, but for you, it was the only thing you could do.

Soaking a cotton pad with some anti-septic, you place it gently on his lip, a hiss from him following your action, “Sorry.” You whisper. A sorry for the pain but also for breaking up with him. No matter how much you knew it was right for you, you knew it was hard on him. Opening himself up to love you wasn’t easy for Heeseung.

“I’m used to it, baby.” Your heart cries as he calls you baby, it always sounded so perfect coming from him.

“What did the guys do?” You ask and he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, masked behind purple and blue, “You said guys were being dicks, so what did they do?”

He didn’t want to waste energy on it, the fight being over in a flash anyway, “Just stuff. They got a jump on me hence the mess.” He moves his hand to gesture to his face but while his hand is already there, it engulfs yours, the one that’s cleaning the blood from his mouth, “Baby, I didn’t start it.”

“I know, Seungie.” You feel yourself falling back into how it used to be, his thumb running circles into your hand. 

Once you finish up, you place a skin closure strip on his mouth, your thumb rubbing gently to secure it in place. He takes the opportunity to take your thumb into his mouth and you nearly moan at the intimate act. 

But this isn’t how it is now.

“Heeseung.” You warn him. 

He releases your thumb and sighs, “Habit.” He was a man of few words, you knew that, so there was no need to say anything more.

“You should go. Keep it clean, and put some ointment on that black eye.”

“I miss you so fucking much, Y/N.” Ignoring him, you walk into the bathroom to return the first aid kit, “Don’t you miss me?”

It almost makes you laugh. You missed him more than anything, so much so that after the shitshow that was today all you could think about was him. All you wanted was for him to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is fine, but that is a wish that can’t be a reality anymore. 

“It’s not about missing you Heese-”

“I’ll quit.” 

You turn the bathroom light off and brush past him, “No, you won’t. We both know it so don’t lie to me, don’t start that now.” 

Heeseung is a beat behind you when you walk into your bedroom, “Y/N, believe me.” He knew you didn’t need to believe him, there wasn’t even a reason to believe him because he had said this before. But this time is different, “If you just listen to me,”

“No, I don’t think I will.” The stare you have on him is angry, “I offered you a solution for all of this, and honestly? I am so tired of this conversation now. I need you to go.”

Hurt flickers in his eyes, “Baby, I’m miserable without you.”

Agitation builds up inside you. He’s acting like this is solely your fault, like you were the one that caused all this. Granted, you broke up with him but it was after giving him every solution to stop it, “This is not my doing, Seungie, okay?” He wants to retaliate but you snip in before he gets the chance, “You love fighting those losers more than you ever did me, you made that clear.”

He sees red at your allegation. How dare you even think for a second you weren’t his number one. Sure, he didn’t want to give up fighting, it was who he was, but he also didn’t want to lose you, he sees that now. He has to prove to you just how much you mean to him.

Heeseung takes two long strides to you and kisses you hungrily. It’s been so long since he felt your lips in his. The stinging from his wound is dull compared to how he feels to have you like this again, he has a whole month of kisses and fucking to catch up on and nothing will stop him.

“I love you so much don’t you dare fucking say that.” It was a rarity for him to say that he loves you out loud. You knew he did, it was his actions that showed his love more than words, but hearing it made your eyes well with tears. Because he didn’t say it much, you cherished every single time he did.

You fall onto the bed behind you, his weight crashing onto you as you both lose yourselves in the kiss, all that anger and hurt dissipated each of his kisses.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you try and deepen the kiss but he pulls away. He takes off his jacket and t-shirt and that’s when you see the bruises dispersed along his chest and torso. This fight must have been a lot more brutal than he let on. 

Sitting up you kiss each bruise while he straddles your lap, gently showing love for each one. The nurse in you wants to tend to them right away, they really did a number on his stomach and you’re slightly concerned about the damage done to his insides. But right now all he needs is a few kisses to make it better.

“They don’t hurt, promise.” He assures you, but if you kiss him too hard, which isn’t hard at all, he winces. To fixate on something other than the pain he whips off your tank top and just the sight of your breasts has him feeling a-okay, “Missed you so much.”

You could laugh at his obvious ogling but with your burnt out body and his just the same, you just needed to feel him, “Seungie, please,” You whine into his right peck as you kiss him over his darkest bruise again.

Heeseung understands your pleas and pushes you flat against the bed before undoing his jeans and not so gracefully kicking them off, “What do you want, baby? I’ll do it all.” 

To quit fighting. That’s what you want to say, but you can’t risk the idea of an argument, not when you’re so close to having him inside you again, “Fuck me, Heeseung. Please.”

This is all he’s been dreaming about since you told him to go. Your love wasn’t the only thing he craved. 

Dipping his head down to yours he kisses you again, his hands dipping into your cute pajama shorts to pull them down, “Can I eat your pussy baby?”

You would love nothing more than to feel his tongue all over you but you are truly exhausted, “I have had such a hard shift Seungie, just need your cock to make me feel better.” You’re lifting your hips into his as you say this, staring into his eyes to let him know he has to do this soon or you’ll crash.

“Okay, baby.” He brings two of his fingers to your folds to assess how easy you could take him. You’re wet but you could be wetter for him. Heeseung is an average size but if you’ve been without sex for a month like he had hoped you’d need a little more. 

He clambers over you to reach the top drawer and grab some lube. His cock is basically in your face so who were you to not have a taste of it? You sit up on your elbows and your mouth engulfs his member. He's so shocked by the sudden action he nearly drops the bottle, “Shit, baby.” His free hand finds its way into your hair as you bob up and down his shaft, “Missed that mouth of yours.” He breathes out, “Missed it sucking me off, missed it saying my name, fuck I even missed it bossing me around.” 

Pulling back you look at him with an unamused look but he uses it as an excuse to kiss you once again. 

Slithering down to his previous position he coats his cock with some of the lube, sparing some for your hole, slipping a finger into you to slick your inner walls with it. You turn into a moaning mess as you feel his fingers for the first time in so long, your hips involuntarily buck up.

“I’ll only be a minute, baby.” Once he feels satisfied you won’t feel any pain, he slides his finger out and rubs the head of his cock on your pussy. He isn’t even teasing you but you feel like he is with how long he is taking.

Abruptly, he pushes into your heat, the feeling of you around him makes his head spin. No one will ever feel as good as you, that’s why he’s willing to do anything to have you, “So good,” he exhales, “So fucking good, baby.” Bottoming out, he can’t stop a loud groan from erupting out his mouth. You’ve missed the sound so much.

He starts to thrust into you at a fast pace once he knows your walls have settled, each hit making the room fill with sounds of skin slapping and curses. With the way he’s fucking you, you would think you hadn’t seen each other in years, but he craves you so much that even one day without the option of you around his cock was unbearable. 

“Shit, Seungie please go faster.” He listens to you and picks up the pace, knowing how tired you are he needs to get you off quickly. 

Between your thighs, his hand finds your clit as he starts to rub it harshly. You look unreal right now, with your mouth open and head thrown back into the mattress.

Lifting your right leg over your shoulder he reaches a deeper spot, his cock pounding into you with ferocity it makes you squeeze around him, “Oh fuck, baby, do that again.” You squeeze his shaft with your walls again, “Fucking pussy feels like heaven.” He whispers to himself.

His hips keep a harsh rhythm, the sharpness of each thrust sending you more and more over the edge, “Close.” Is all you say.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?” he smirks, happy knowing that he’s about to feel your ecstasy around him, “Cum for me, Y/N.”

And just like that your pussy comes undone on his dick that is still mercilessly pummeling into you. A loud mewl draws out your mouth and your hands grab onto the duvet under you, he’s making you feel bliss right now. 

Heeseung can feel himself getting closer and if he wants full satisfaction he needs to cum now while your walls are contracting thoughtlessly, he needs you to milk his cock dry.

Feeling him lose his rhythm a little you know he just needs a little something to bring him over the edge, “Seungie, need your cum so bad.” He loved it when you begged for his seed.

“Yeah? How bad?”

“I’m starving for it.”

The last few words have his hips stuttering and ropes of his cum shooting into you, filling you up just how you like it.

You’ve finally regained composure from your own high and just in time to see his slack jaw and eyes screwed shut. He was one of the few people that looked good when they orgasmed and you loved when you got to see him in all his glory.

Heeseung falls onto you briefly to catch his breath, the pain from his stomach coming back slowly but that doesn’t matter right now, “Let me clean you up.” He slides out of you and goes to get supplies to look after you.

Because your job requires you to look after everyone around you, it was nice how Heeseung would do aftercare so well, making sure you’re okay.

He takes a while but as he comes back he’s holding a damp cloth and bottle of water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, “Sit up for me baby.” 

After placing the tea and water on the bedside table he starts to run the cloth along your sensitve area. He loved to see you full of his cum, every time the white substance would leak from you he felt a bit of pride so washing it away like this was mourningful.

“I have quit.” He says lowly, “Fighting, I mean. I quit this morning.”

“But you only said you would quit earlier?” You question, recalling the previous conversation.

“I wanted to see if you would believe me.”

You’re dubious, not understanding what he’s saying, “You can’t just quit like that, Seungie. You told me it wasn’t that easy.” 

And it wasn’t. It’s not like you can hand in a two week notice and call it a day, there are too many stakeholders involved, too much money being thrown around to just up and off.

“Yeah, you can see it wasn’t so painless.” He finishes cleaning you off and goes to place the rag in the washing basket.

“What do you mean?” As he walks into the room you see his bruises again and it all hits you at once, “The guys being dicks…”

Heeseung nods and jumps back into his boxers but not anything else with the hopes you want him to stay, “Told them I wasn’t doing it anymore and next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He laughs embarrassed at the memory.

This was technically your fault, you asked him to stop the high stake fights and this is what happened. 

Seeing your face, Heeseung sits on the bed next to you and cups your cheek, “Hey, no, I know what you’re thinking but you didn’t make me quit. I chose too. This is my doing”

“But I asked you to.” You look down and trace over his bruises lightly.

“Yeah, but I said no at first.” His hand runs into your damp hair, “I decided to quit this morning because losing you isn’t worth it. I meant it when I said i’m fucking miserable.” 

Sighing you fear this happiness in your chest is going to disappear at any moment, “It’s what you love though, Seungie.”

“I love you.” He hates that you have this preconceived notion that somehow he loves fighting more than you, “And I know I should have said it more when we were together but, baby, give me another chance so I can keep saying it.” 

You want to cry again, “Have you actually quit? No more fights?”

He places his hand on his heart, “I quit, promise. The only fights now will be with guys who stare at you too long.” 

Laughing, you remember a time he clocked two guys out for even offering you a drink. Heeseung has always been protective of you, that’s why you missed him so much today. Coming home after a grueling shift made you want nothing more than for him to hold you.

He’s offering you that chance again and you can’t turn it down, “I love you, Heeseung.”

“Fuck, baby, I love you too.” His lips are on yours again as he pours his love into you, his devotion.

Heeseung wasn’t letting you go again. Not for any fight in the world.

[ddejavvu]

okay so by now i think all the spencer enjoyers™️ have seen that picture of him in his white unbuttoned shirt covered in red lipstick kisses, but imagine leaving said kisses perchance? earlier season spencer would be like a puddle on the floor and it'd be too cute.

Spencer's job as Designated Driver is backfiring fast. It means that his head is completely clear as your mottled one decides it's time to waste your lipstick, lathing it onto your puckered lips and painting his face with it.

"Another one!" You declare, a giggle hanging off the edge of your voice as you reapply another smeary coat of the product. You reapply every time you kiss his cheeks, which means there's far more of the stuff on your lips than you need there to be.

"Okay that's- that's enough," Spencer reaches for the tube of lipstick, taking it from your hands and clutching it in his tight fist, "You don't need to apply any more. There's enough on your lips already, I- uh, I don't think that's how makeup works."

"But I want the kisses to be fresh," You insist, eyes wide and doe-like, sparkling with earnest, "Spence, I- if the kisses aren't fresh," You explain, voice thick and wobbly, "Then people won't see them, and people won't know you're my best friend! I have to," Your voice tapers down into a sullen whisper, "I have to mark my territory."

Spencer didn't know he was your best friend. He knew he was one of your friends, of course, but he'd have assumed your best was maybe Prentiss or Morgan. Certainly not him, not the man who time and time again fumbles his way through conversations with you because no matter how much time he spends prepping what he'll say, you always make him nervous. He can't say he's exactly calm now, with your bright kiss marks pressed to every inch of skin on his face, but he takes solace in the fact that you're not going to remember this come morning, so he can stutter all he wants and it won't affect his image.

"I think she's right, Reid," Hotch grins, though Spencer can tell the man's holding back the brunt of the expression's force. Spencer curses the man's composure; he handles liquor a lot better than you do. "I mean, God forbid people think you don't know her. It's not like she's sitting in your lap, or anything."

"Mhm!" You nod emphatically from your place in Spencer's lap, his sticky face held in your hands, "Exactly. So I need to kiss you more."

Spencer's not sure what he can say besides yes. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you think he doesn't want to be your best friend. Because he does, perhaps a little more than you realize. But he's not sure he can take the feeling of your lips on his face any more, for fear of turning into a melted puddle of raw awkwardness on the sticky bar floor.

He swallows the saliva that's pooled around his teeth, inhaling the scent of your strawberry shampoo, "Uh- okay. One more."

"Two more." You decide, already leaning up to press not one, not two, but three kisses to his face. One on each of his cheeks, then one that you smash against the curve of his chin. You press until it hurts, intent on really stamping the mark there.

"Perfect!" You declare, and Spencer's sure his breath is shaky when he exhales, a side effect from having your lips so tantalizingly close to his own. "Now- now I'm done." You promise, "And I'm tired, Spence." You suddenly pant, "Can I lay down on you?"

You're already in his lap. Spencer's not sure if he has any reason to say no. Well, besides his uncontrollable, embarrassingly strong, undying adoration for you. But he can't tell you that, not here, not now, so he steels himself as he nods, "Sure. Go- go ahead."

You slump down onto his shoulder so fast it almost hurts, and you're lifelessly snoozing in an instant. Spencer's sure you're not actually asleep yet, but you're so easily dead weight against him that he has to lean up against the back of his chair for support.

"No pictures." He hisses to Hotch who's already taken three, "Stop it."

"Penelope's not here," Hotch goads, sending the picture off before Spencer can demand he delete it, "Someone's gotta be the gossip."

[blueywrites]

u-haul 'cause I might let you move in it (1/2)

dom dealer!eddie x sub fem!reader Inspired by @2jihiir0's fanart 'make it quick... baby's sleeping'. leave them some love! read part two here.

2.5k

cw (both parts): 18+. smut, drug use (weed), situationship becoming something more (???), shame kink, praise & degradation, pet names, exhibitionism-adjacent, no y/n, no physical descriptors, eddie's still a fairly soft dom bc I'm just not hard like that 😭

an: this is just the start of the filth, y'all - most of it occurs in part two 😌 shout out to @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @word-wytch and @the-unforgivenn for their feral support and @fracturedarkness bc this wouldn't exist without her.

enjoy part one! 🩵

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the dusty blinds of the trailer. The air inside is thick with the scent of smoke and stale beer, a heady mixture that clings to the walls. It’s the kind of smell that seeps into your clothes, your hair, your skin. It should leave you feeling slightly suffocated, especially considering the oppressive humidity also clinging to every surface, but somehow, there's a measure of comfort in the acrid scent.

You’re sitting on the threadbare couch, the fabric worn with age creaking as you shift restlessly, trying to find a more comfortable position in the heat. The fabric scratches your soles as you prop your feet up, leaning against the couch arm, fanning the neck of your thin tank top to peel the dampness from your chest. Beneath the old coffee table, your flip-flops lay forgotten, abandoned on the threadbare carpet. A beer bottle sits nearby, sweating rings onto the surface of the table, a testament to the lazy haze of the afternoon.

On the other side of the couch, your dealer lounges against the cushions, his movements fluid and practiced as he rolls a joint with deft, inked fingers. You look over at Eddie as he watches the TV, his head lolled back against the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded, relaxed. He looks good. You can’t help but spend a long moment staring at him: the angles of his face, his big brown eyes and puffy lips, his long, shaggy curls that frame his high cheekbones. He’s pretty, and he’d look downright innocent if it wasn’t for the long nick of white scar tissue kissing the edge of his lip and the scruff darkening his cheeks and jaw. Your gaze dips lower over his tight black jeans, lingering where they meet his rust-colored tank. The shirt is caught up around his hip, revealing a strip of pale skin and a tattoo that you can just see the bottom of. You want to run your tongue over it, then keep mapping all his ink until your mouth has touched each bit of darkness on him.

This thing with Eddie started when you broke up with Trevor and lost your go-to source for getting high. When you’d asked around, a friend of a friend recommended Eddie Munson, saying he was the best you could come by in the area: decent product, reasonable prices, and not a total creep. The first couple times were quick transactions, and then you started hanging around because the girl who hooked you up also told you Eddie would likely offer to smoke you out if you did. He let you hang around because he didn't much care either way, and he didn't find you hard to look at. That led quickly to casual sex whenever you saw each other, usually when you'd come by a couple times a month to restock your supply. And the sex is great– better than the weed, and Eddie's weed is always high quality. He just has this ability to make you feel special in the moment without having any expectations about whatever-you-and-he-were as soon as you pull your panties back on, leaving you free to date whoever you wanted when you left his trailer.

It’s ecstasy to have all of his attention focused on you in those moments because, though Eddie looks like a mean bastard, he gets off on your pleasure. He's not one to make you feel used or neglected; he's a thorough lover. And he has a knack for straddling the perfect line between sweet and sour. He'd praise you then humiliate you in the next breath, and it drove you wild. Kept you coming back even though he never expressed interest in taking you out or doing anything with you other than just getting high, watching TV, and fucking you 'til you screamed.

And then, at some point, you find yourself declining guys' offers for dinner or drinks. You just don’t feel like going out anymore, because trying to find Mr. Right was getting exhausting— at least, that's what you tell yourself. And Eddie starts calling you sometimes to let you know he had a new strain he thought you'd like, some of Rick's fancy shit. Soon enough, you go from seeing him twice a month to twice a week, sometimes more. And slowly but surely, you begin to notice a change in yourself. You start staring at all his tattoos and wondering what the stories are behind them. Feeling an odd flutter when you flop down next to him and he'd sling his arm around your shoulder without a thought. Laying tangled in his musty bedsheets, and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, secretly burying your nose against his pillow because the smell of him has suddenly become... comforting.

Things are changing for you, and you really hope they are for him, too. 'Cause if not, it seems your traitorous heart has determined you'll be in for a world of hurt.

"Y'want some of this?" Eddie's voice cuts through the haze, drawing your attention away from the television. You glance over to see him holding up the joint, a lazy smirk playing at the corners of his lips. The glow of the joint illuminates his features, soft against the curve of his cheek.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your own lips as you shift closer to him. He pats his thigh, a silent invitation, and you don’t hesitate to straddle his lap, the heat of his body seeping through your pajama shorts. His jeans are rough against your tender inner thighs as you shift, grazing the hardening bulge pressing against his zipper; your stomach tightens with the first whispers of arousal as you feel it brush against you.

"Gimme a show then, kitten," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, making that arousal bloom fuller as you grow excited. It’s a playful taunt, a challenge, but beneath the teasing facade, you can sense something more—a hint of possessiveness, maybe even of longing. That could just be your wishful thinking, but nonetheless, your heart races at the prospect as you meet his gaze, accepting his challenge.

With a coy smile, you slip off the couch, settling on your knees and running your nails up his thighs on your way to his lap. You take your time unbuckling his belt, keeping your movements slow and unhurried, though you secretly throb as you begin to unwrap him. It’s crazy how quickly he turns you on— how all he has to do is smirk and pin you with a look, or murmur a few words in that low, husky tone, and you’re already wetting your panties for him. 

Eddie waits just long enough for you to shimmy his jeans and boxers down to his knees, and then he catches you by the jaw with a broad, rough palm. You look up at him as he guides you back up with his light grip on your face. His eyes flick down to your mouth as he leans forward, curls swinging to kiss his jaw. You brighten, eager to feel his mouth on yours, wondering what kind of kiss he’ll reward you with— something slow and sweet, or wet and filthy. But he leaves just a peck on your lips before drawing back, tightening his hold on your jaw to keep you firmly in place when you instinctively go to chase him.

You fall immediately into a pout, slumping back on your heels as he breathes a chuckle at you. Eddie bends to lightly pat your cheek a few times in consolation before settling back into the cushions, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He must know the gesture would rile you up, and it does— you feel your disappointment churn in your belly, turning to petulance. In retaliation, you clamber up to your feet, abandoning your position kneeling before his boots. With narrowed eyes, you drop your shorts and panties together without ceremony, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, denying him the chance to enjoy watching you strip. You cross your arms when your bratting only makes him smirk even wider at you. He quirks an eyebrow as if to say, “Well?” 

You resent how much you like his stupid face.

The couch creaks its protest as you climb up onto it, slinging a leg over his lap again, this time with nothing separating your skin from his, which is hot and slightly sticky with the humidity. His cock kicks subtly when your pussy grazes him, and you bite your lip, feeling an answering pulse of desire within yourself. When you mount him, reaching behind to grip him at the base and notch his fat head at your entrance, Eddie prepares for your performance: draping his arms casually over the backrest, fingers idly tapping against the worn fabric, his other arm hinging to bring the joint lazily to his lips. 

He looks like such an asshole, waiting for you to service him. And you might've goaded him more because of it, but you forget about being bratty the second you sink down on his lap, taking him all the way into you. 

A quiet moan sighs from between your cracked lips when you sit fully on his cock, your eyes slipping closed as you get lost in that initial stretch. He's not the only guy you've fucked— far from it— but there’s just something about the way he slots inside, nudging against the end of you, that always leaves you feeling more perfectly filled than anyone else. Eddie watches with a sly glint in his half-lidded eyes as you start to grind on him, letting yourself drift into the space he always brings you into. With him, you can be soft, sensual, and needy, but also desperate and pathetic. You can act out all your secret desires, know that Eddie will flay you open and force you to acknowledge them, and let the shame of it get you off all at once.

Eddie lets you be a freak, and better yet, he likes it.

Desperate to earn his approval, you run your hands up your body, dragging over your hips and up to your neck as you ride him. Your abdomen rolls as you grind with fluid, sensual movements, doing your best to put on the show he’d requested. You look at him through your lashes as your wandering fingers catch on the hem of your tank top, dragging it slowly up to reveal your soft belly. You hold it just below your breasts so Eddie can watch the way your curves bend and move while you work his cock. 

In some respects, the dance is for you as much as it’s for him because the way Eddie watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring every inch of your body, really turns you on. You bite your lip, your clit swelling with anticipation as you tease him with a glimpse of the underside of your breasts. He hums approvingly, taking a leisurely hit from the joint. As the smoke curls around him in a tantalizing haze, you give in sooner than you’d been intending and ruck up your top to let your breasts fall out. You start to play with them, squeezing and kneading as you rock your hips harder, your own need mounting.

Gradually, your performance ceases being a performance. Your nipples begin to ache, begging to be touched, and a moan spills unbidden from your lips as you tweak and pinch them, sending pleasure zinging straight down within you. You close your eyes, a tiny frown forming as you try to concentrate on the low flame of your arousal, but it remains at a frustratingly low simmer. You rock faster, grind harder, pinch harsher, your movements a silent plea for the sweet relief only Eddie can give. You’ve built your own pleasure as much as you can on your own, and now, you need him. The coyness is wiped from your expression, replaced with a begging pinch in your brow, a needy, wet shine in your eyes as you blink unseeingly at him, all pretty and pathetic on his lap.

At the border between satisfaction and desperation— that’s where he wanted you. 

A hand at your hip stills your movements, and as your eyes snap to focus on Eddie's face, you see he’s leaned forward, his nose scant inches from yours. His other elbow is planted on the couch arm, the joint poised tantalizingly nearby in his ringed fingers. Eddie squeezes your hip firmly, then again more gratuitously, and when you obediently fall still to sit motionless on his cock, he lets his palm slide up the curve of your waist in a drag that makes you gasp, you're so wired and ready for his touch. You watch, rapt, as he brings the joint toward his lips, salivating as a swipe of his tongue moistens them.

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes snap up to his, captured completely by his unwavering gaze. As he inhales, those brown eyes glitter in the orange that flares bright at the joint’s end. And he keeps that point of contact between you as his broad palm travels up, up, up— over the supple heft of your breast, grazing the hard peak of your nipple, skimming the thrumming pulse in your neck, his thumb catching on the underside of your jaw as he cups your cheek. He closes those scant inches between you, and when the bulb of his nose nudges yours, your mouth falls open as your eyes slip closed. 

He exhales, you inhale. When the warm rush of Eddie’s breath kisses your lips, you take it into you, your chest expanding as your lungs fill with smoke. The taste of him mingles with a heady rush of arousal, and you continue to take, even through the twinge of discomfort as your lungs stretch to accommodate it all. As Eddie gives you the last of his smoke, you close your mouth, keeping it all inside.

“Hold it,” he murmurs against your skin. His lips trail kisses along your jaw as you obey, fighting your diaphragm as it hitches, wanting to cough. You make a little noise in the back of your throat when he nips you, the brief sharp sting soothed soon after by the flat of his tongue. You hold as long as you can, and when you finally exhale, Eddie rewards you by taking hold of your hips, pulling you into a slow, sensual grind as he kisses you sloppy, wet lips wide and devouring. The friction and fervor crash over you in an intense wave of pleasure, one that has you whining, twisting your fingers in his hair, pressing your tits to his chest, ready to ignite—

The front door shakes with the pounding of a heavy fist.

[erwinsvow]

the water is hot—much too hot for skin, you’re well aware, but this is your everything shower, so there’s no use in not having scaldingly warm water rain down on you. rafe’s bathroom is a mess of your products—a honey scented candle flickering on the sink counter, your soaps and scrubs along the tub. the entire place smells like vanilla and coconut, smells like you. 

you just need to finish washing your hair and give yourself one last soapy rinse before you can step out and finish up—all that’s left is lotioning up and your skincare. 

but it’s hard to want to leave when it’s so warm, and you feel so clean, and it’s so cold outside, colder still without the warmth of your boyfriend, who is out and about for the day.

so you decide to cherish this time, letting your head run under the showerhead and basking in the feeling. you only get another thirty seconds before the door opens. 

“wha—hey!” you yell out, thinking maybe sarah came in, since sometimes she does that when wheezie’s using their bathroom, and she’s only caught you and rafe showering together twice so far.

“shut up. it’s me.” your boyfriend’s sweet as always, walking in and closing the door behind him.

“rafe, i’m showering,” you start, worried for some reason that he’s gonna yank you out.

“yeah, i can tell. m’not blind, kid.” you hear him settle—he’s probably taking a seat, getting comfortable. “you won’t believe what barry said today-”

you poke your head out from the side of the curtain. rafe’s sitting on the toilet, staring up at you.

“get out!” 

“no. i gotta tell you what barry did.” he makes himself comfortable, sniffing the candle and then starting his story. you aren’t surprised at his antics anymore, there’s no privacy between you two anyways. you go back, finishing your hair wash while listening. 

“jesus, it’s fuckin’ hot in here. how do you still have skin?” 

“this is the perfect temperature,” you sigh, reaching for your body wash. rafe can’t see much through the curtain—it’s not sheer in any way, but he can make out your shadow from the other end, hands running over your body while you wash away the suds, the shape of your face under the showerhead. 

he shouldn’t have come in here.

“alright, i’m goin’. finish up.” you poke your head back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“already? what happened to the rest of your story?” 

“you told me to get out, remember?” you pout.

“was just kidding. i like this.”

“if i stay in here m’coming in there with you.” 

“promise?” 

[bunnycvnts]

need you to write me some perv rafe 😌

pairing: perv!rafe x unaware!reader

summary: rafe has a small obsession with you and finds himself with the perfect opportunity to get closer to you.

warnings: pervy rafe, sexual themes, sorta??dark content, male masturbation, panty stealing (is this a warning LMFAO?)

rafe knew you. well. he knew of you. from glances in the hallway when you passed his room, headed towards sarah’s, small conversations when you joined family dinners, and the occasional interaction during parties when you wanted to score some coke on the low.

he knew you from the image he formed in his head. the one that told him your short passing glances were longing, filled with desire. that your hand brushing his at the dinner table was a sign to spread you open on the wooden table and fuck you. that you buying coke from him when there were many dealers in figure eight was because you needed an excuse to talk to him, not just because he was sarah’s older brother and would give you it a little cheaper than most.

you took up far more space in his brain than any of his little sisters friends should. more than any normal girl should. he’d never been so hell-bent on creating and imagining interactions, forcing them to happen, and putting himself in the right places at the right time if it meant he’d see you. countless nights he’d stay awake, hearing your giggles from across the hall while his hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it to the sound of your voice that would slip between the cracks in the doorframe. rafe couldn’t be by the pool when you’d swim, his length creating an obvious print in the wet swim shorts that clung to his skin at the sight of your body in a small bikini, soaking wet with water dripping down your soft skin. he couldn’t look at you for too long at parties, his focus being solely on you rather than paying customers, even if you were halfway across the room in your own world.

it was safe to say he was obsessed, but it was okay, right? because you totally wanted him too. at least, that’s what he told himself.

for you, he’d always been sarah’s scary older brother that would sometimes stand a little too close, but offered you free coke at parties and would drive you home late at night, even though you only lived a block away and could definitely walk home.

rafe saw the perfect opportunity to get a little closer to you one afternoon after he’d been spending the day by the pool with you and sarah. you’d wrapped your towel around you, saying you were gonna go shower before dinner. sarah waved you off, determined to soak up every bit of sun she could. rafe watched you walk inside, water droplets leaking off of you with each step and the fat of your ass bouncing lightly, visible even through the towel.

he’d quickly sat up, throwing out an excuse of a phone call to his sister before following you inside. his steps were faster than yours, catching up to you quickly.

“hey, yo-you can use my shower if you want? that way, you don’t have to worry about wheezie or sarah trying to walk in.” he tried to sound casual, despite stumbling over his first words. you thought about it for a second before agreeing, having grown tired of trying to split sarah’s bathroom after pool days. rafe guided you upstairs, relishing in the fact that you were now standing in his room in only a small bikini and were about to be showering in his shower. you’d smell like him afterwards; his body wash would linger on your skin, and your sweet vanilla scent would linger in his bathroom. just the way he thought it should.

playing a nice host, he grabbed you a bath towel and turned the shower on for you before closing the door with a small smirk on his lips. you were quick in the shower, only washing your body and vaguely browsing through his products. when you hopped out, you realized you didn’t have your actual clothes. with a towel wrapped around your naked body and a frown on your face, you peeked through the cracked door and asked rafe to grab you your pink beach bag from sarah’s room as it held your clothes.

his eyes widened at the sight of you, but he nodded and left the room, pushing into sarah’s where he spotted your baby pink bag, your name clearly embroidered on the side. he checked over his shoulder quickly, ensuring he was alone, and opened the bag. he shuffled through it before coming across a little white thong that had a small bow on the front. rafe groaned as he shoved it in his pocket, grabbed the bag, and headed back to his room. he watched as you closed the bathroom door again and came out moments later in a sundress that showed off your tanlines from the bikini top, saying a small thank you and leaving the room entirely.

rafe took a moment to breathe, listening to your footsteps pad down the stairs. when he was sure you were gone, he rushed into the bathroom and stripped, your panties clenched in his fist. once he was under the warm shower water, your sweet scent filled the room, making him groan. his cock was throbbing, and his balls were aching for release. the fist clutching your white thong soon wrapped around his aching cock, now soaked and sudsy with his body wash. his grip was tight as he got himself off, your name spilling from his lips with every thrust of his hand. seeing something that once was worn by you wrapped around his length, your panties nonetheless, was surely enough to push him right to the edge. all he could think of was your sweet cunt dripping wetness into the soft cotton, him spreading your folds open and exploring every inch with his tongue, his cock lined with your tight entrance before pushing inside you and experiencing your warm wet cunt for the first time. what really sent him soaring over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting from his thick cock and onto the shower wall, was your voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a light knock. “rafe, are you sure you grabbed all the clothes that were in the bag? some things are missing.”

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101

[ins4nebxtch]

ultimate IT girl guide

a guide to looking effortlessly perfect

"You’ve got the false narrative of a girl who spends 30 seconds on her appearance, when, in fact, you probably spent hours.”

1. basic hygiene:

having clean teeth and good breath

smelling good 24/7. i highly recommend finding a signature scent as a scent is associated with memory, id suggest something sweet yet not too overpowering like vanilla.

being clean in general. regularly shaving and exfoliating your skin to get rid of bodily hair and dirt that accumulates on your skin to make your skin glow.

clean nails. having clean and maintained nails (with a simple design if you wish) looks better than having acrylics that are wayyy too long and appear tacky.

2. hair :

having smooth healthy hair looks much better than dry and damaged hair. take care of your hair by finding the best products for your natural hair. get rid of your split ends as they make the hair appear really damaged.

in my opinion, loose waves look the most effortless yet pretty. but don’t ruin your natural hair by applying too much heat! you can try heatless styling methods to achieve this look.

3. diet and exercise :

being toned is the way to go to fit this aesthetic

avoid oily foods or sugary foods that damage your skin. don’t completely get rid of these as we all have our cravings, but try your best to avoid it

find a workout plan that works best for you, keeps you healthy but doesn’t burn you out! moreover exercise releases endorphins that improve your mood.

4. makeup and skin care :

natural makeup on clear skin fits this effortless aesthetic perfectly!

take care of your skin by finding a routine that fits you the best, consult with a dermatologist for the best results.

having smooth, blended makeup creates an illusion that you aren’t wearing any at all! this appears much effortless than a full face. also try to avoid those really huge false lashes that make you look tacky.

maintain your eyebrows and find a shape that fits you best!

5. outfits :

having a signature style which suits your body type is essential. experiment until you can find what suits you best! you can use a body analysis app for this.

wearing outfits you’re confident in, hot but not too revealing goes a long way. confidence is key. wearing overly revealing clothing might seem like one is trying too hard, but if you can carry it with confidence then that’s great!

jewellery : having dainty, signature pieces is key! find out which suits you better (gold or silver) through an ai analysis and invest in timeless pieces. personally, i think minimalistic pieces such as solitaires, simple pendants, classic hoops etc. look much more effortless.

6. personality :

don’t be too judgemental towards anyone as you don’t know what they’re going through and this makes you seem unapproachable

don’t talk too much or overshare! this creates a mysterious aura which draws people to you more

confidence is key! posture is very important too, carry yourself with confidence and walk with your head held up high.

7. examples and references :

serena van der woodsen (gossip girl)

mia thermopolis (the princess diaries)

cher (clueless)

elle woods (legally blonde)

rory gilmore (gilmore girls)

robib scherbatsky (how i met your mother)

gigi hadid

[zephyrchama]

Obey Me! brothers and an MC with long hair...

---

It drives Lucifer crazy. He's constantly asking you to clean the shower drain and nagging at you to either pull it back while studying or cut it short. His tune changes at night, when there's a chance to unwind with his favorite record. One hand cups a glass of Demonus while the other idly runs through your hair. He'll brush his fingers through it to the tune of his music. He'll grab a fistful of it and let his imagination run wild. The next morning he's back to complaining about the drain again and dropping a scrunchie on your head.

---

It's such a distraction for Mammon. He'll drape your hair across his shoulders like a scarf or hold it up to his lips like a fake mustache to make you laugh. He'll bury his face in it to escape from the world when his brothers find a new reason to be mad at him. He'll tug on it if he feels you're not paying enough attention to him. Mammon enjoys wrapping your hair around his fingers and rings. He's very possessive over it. He has a habit of sticking stuff in it like a mischievous little boy, but instead of gum he'll plant flowers and leaves in your hair, then kick back and watch as you dig out a mirror to see what he's stuck on your head this time.

---

Leviathan has a hoard of anime-themed hair accessories that don't suit him. He only bought them for collection purposes, but now that you're around he's always looking for an excuse for you to wear one. It's too adorable. He's mesmerized over the way your hair bounces and sways in pigtails, versus how elegant you can look when a high bun exposes your neck. He wants photos of them all. If you sit in front of him, Leviathan will comb his dexterous fingers through your hair and ask to style it. He enjoys the smell of your shampoo lingering on his hand and on the accessories he lends you.

---

Satan idly plays with your hair while he reads or spaces out. Most of the time he doesn't realize he's doing it. It does irk him when he finds a stray hair in the pages of his book, or on his clothes, but he doesn't vocalize it like Lucifer does. He'll take matters into his own hands. You'll find Satan randomly tying up your hair without warning, then look all smug admiring his own handiwork. The elastic hair ties he keeps in his pocket for you double as toys for any playful stray he spots on the street. If you have a hair out of place then Satan will tuck it back for you, slowly smoothing it out while making intense eye contact.

---

You never knew how many hairstyles existed until you met Asmodeus. He frequently asks to try out new ideas and products with your hair. He comes to brush it when he wants to vent. Spa days are his way of bonding, wherein he'll wrap your long hair up in a towel and wrap his arms around you while it dries. Asmodeus is addicted to the feeling of it, freshly combed, falling across his skin. He uses your hair as an excuse to touch you and will match your shampoo scents with his. You have to admit the feel of his nails against your scalp is incredibly relaxing, and his intuition for fashion is never wrong. He loves watching you admire his work in the mirror while singing his praises.

---

It worries Beelzebub. He worries your hair will get stuck on something, as he's had to help you untangle it from a hook more than once. He worries someone will use it to hurt you, as he's seen Mammon pull it to tease you. He worries it will get in the food, since he's choked on a long strand before. Whenever you're in the kitchen, asking Beel to tie your hair back is a good way to distract him until the food is done, as long as you don't use a fruit-scented shampoo. When you do, it's fun to have him guess what fruit you smell like and compare it to the real thing. Beelzebub is always conscious of your safety and won't hesitate to put a protective hand on the back of your head if you're walking past a low tree branch or leaning over a pot of oil. He's trying to learn to braid for you.

---

Belphegor finds it annoying to wake up with a mouthful of your long hair. It's pretty, but he hates getting his hands tangled in it while he naps, or finding strands of it on his sheets. If it didn't smell so good he'd have already cut it for you. His solution is to buy you soft hooded pajamas. He thinks it's cute to button a big plush hood (think of kigurumi) around your head and tuck the hair inside it. Sometimes he gets really ugly ones because they're funny. Then he has no problem using your head as his personal headrest. He likes rubbing your head because of the expressions you make. The only downside to these hoods is that he can't enjoy your messy bedhead, so he makes sure to take them off for you, too.

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 5: Riptide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: On the last day aboard the yacht, you get to spend some alone time with Joel, and things heat up.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, jealousy, angst, flirting, sexual tension, thigh/bulge riding, dry humping

WC: 8.1K

A/N: happy birthday @itsafullmoon 😘

Series Masterlist

Joel's fingers shyly found your knee underneath the table and you held back a smile. Instead, you focused on your breakfast, one that pleased him to see you were actually consuming, while he sipped his coffee.

It was another warm day, the heat already climbing and it was barely nine in the morning. As you looked around the rest of the table, you noticed most of the guests looked just about as hungover as you felt, yet they still insisted on indulging in more mimosas and Bloody Marys.

You chose to stick with water and coffee.

There were some quiet conversations being held around you, but mostly you shut it all out in favor of gazing out over the crystal blue ocean. Joel's thumb brushed over your knuckles and when you breathed in deep, you could smell the salt in the air. It made you feel completely at ease, the drama and your argument from the day before the furthest thing from your mind.

Well, maybe not the furthest. You still side eyed Tammy when you both sat down to join everyone that morning, but you decided to let it go. Joel's admission that he hadn't been with her in a year gave you some peace, and you weren't going to allow her to get under your skin. Instead, you were determined to enjoy the last day out at sea because, according to Glenn, the yacht was planning to dock back on your island rather early the following morning.

"We're supposed to stop in a few hours so we can do some water sports. You ever been on a jet ski? Or they got these aqua toys that'll take you under the water so you can see the fish. You wanna do any of that?" His voice sounded slightly nervous as he rambled, something you found incredibly endearing.

"Both sound fun. Whatever you want to do," you told him with a small smile. He was trying very hard, you could tell. You weren't sure if it was guilt that was driving him, or if it was the way you woke up accidentally wrapped in each other's arms, but either way, you enjoyed this side of him.

Just the thought of that morning made your cheeks burn and you had to look back down at your plate. You had a feeling he might have been thinking about it too because he shifted his weight in his seat and released your knee, draping his arm behind your chair instead while he pretended to listen to something Zachary was saying with the tips of his ears turning red.

That morning, your face had been pressed up against his chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, facing one another. Before you even opened your eyes, you could smell him. That distinct scent of hair products, expensive cologne and soap, faded by that point, but still lingering on his skin. One of his legs was slotted between yours. A dangerous place, to be sure. All he really needed to do was roll you both over and his hips would have pressed enticingly against your center.

When your gaze flickered up, expecting to find him fast asleep, you were surprised when you locked eyes. It appeared that he had been awake for a while. Sleep no longer clouded his eyes. So if the way you woke up together was an accident, why didn't he pull away? Why did he continue to stare down at you without withdrawing his limbs from yours? Why did his eyes scan your face and linger on your lips?

And why didn't he kiss you?

"Say, when are you two lovebirds getting married? Set a date yet?" Glenn's voice boomed from the head of the table with a wide smile. His linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down, revealing a mass of grey curls scattered all across his chest.

Joel's grip on the back of your chair tightened and he looked at you affectionately.

"We haven't picked a date yet, but I've always loved springtime," you replied dreamily.

"Then springtime, it is," Joel murmured, then leaned forward to press a kiss against your temple.

"We had a spring wedding," Tammy piped up from across the table. She curled into Scott's side, pulling his arm around her shoulders and you spotted Zoe stifling a laugh next to her. "May 21st. I was so nervous it was going to rain, the forecast called for it all week but when we woke up that morning the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I told Scott at the time it felt like fate. Right? Remember, honey?"

He smiled and curled his fingers around her arm, his eyes flickering back and forth as if he were scanning his memories, desperately trying to remember.

"Of course I do," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Maybe we should get married here. On the beach," you announced, narrowing your eyes in Tammy's direction. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about rain."

Joel chuckled next to you, his thumb brushing gently over your back. "Whatever you say, baby."

"Now you're gettin' it, Joel," laughed Jack, Lynne's husband.

"Oh, no. You should get married at home. Nobody likes to travel for a wedding," Tammy challenged, and you bristled.

"I don't think anyone would mind traveling to Fiji," Harry interjected, and suddenly it seemed like the entire table was involved, previously private clusters of conversation long forgotten in favor of discussing your fake wedding plans.

"Yes, well," Tammy said, fixing a few invisible flyaways, "even so. Guests prefer to stay near their home. Won't you be afraid of alienating people on your special day if you choose a destination wedding?" she asked, tilting her head to the side questioningly.

You probably shouldn't have let it bother you. After all, your entire relationship was a farce, but you couldn't help yourself.

"It doesn't matter to me," you replied airily with a shrug. "The only one I want there is Joel."

When you looked up at him, you could see the playful glint in his eye. He knew what you were doing. He knew Tammy was bothering you and knew goddamn well why.

And he fucking liked it.

His lips curled up into a smile and he inched a little closer, wrapping his arm around you a little tighter, and you felt a shiver run through your body when his lips met yours once again.

You decided to blame it on the leftover tension from that morning, but you flicked your tongue against his lips, looking to deepen the kiss. Joel only hesitated for a second before parting his lips and slowly sliding his tongue into your mouth. It took everything in you not to moan into the kiss, knowing full well how inappropriate it already was, so after allowing yourself just another moment to enjoy it, you breathlessly pulled away. He smirked at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire, a look you no doubt mirrored back.

"What do you think, Joel?" Tammy asked, clearly trying to crack the tension brewing between the two of you. "Don't you have family you'd want there?"

Family.

Why did she say it like that?

Joel's expression changed instantly. Something flickered across his face and his lips twitched nervously when he dropped his gaze to the table.

Then it clicked.

She knew something about him. Something she was taunting him with in front of the whole table.

You desperately wanted to know what she was insinuating, but your bigger issue was not knowing anything about his damn family whatsoever because as he foolishly told you on the plane, it won't come up.

So you had to think fast.

"Anyone who loves us will make the effort to be there. Right, baby?" you purred, stretching an arm to circle around the back of his neck. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and you gave him a subtle nod.

That's right, look at me.

"Yeah," he agreed, and you could see his resolve coming back the longer you clung around him.

"Oh, you two are just so cute," Zoe gushed. Your eyes briefly shifted to hers over Joel's shoulder and she shot you a wink.

"Maybe you should get married while you're already here," Glenn suggested. "Do another ceremony when you get home. Problem solved."

Your blood ran cold and for the first time, your mind went blank. You had no idea what to say. You looked at Joel, trying to silently convey your panic without being obvious, but he seemed perfectly at ease when he tilted his head to look at Glenn with a sly smile.

"Nah, I'll wait til my new hotel is built on that nice spot of land you got 'n we'll get married there, instead."

The table doubled over at his comment, some of the men jokingly calling him ruthless and Glenn complimenting how quick Joel was with his face all pink from laughter. You noticed with a jolt of satisfaction that Tammy was the only one at the table not laughing.

When the table finally let the topic of your wedding go, everyone falling back into their own personal conversations once again, Joel leaned into you and whispered in your ear, "good job."

You grinned and tried not to preen too much at his approval. "You, too," you said back. He scanned your face, his shoulders relaxed and the tension gone from his eyes and you swallowed thickly with a flutter in your chest. You really liked this side of him. The side that wasn't glued to his phone or laptop, the side that smiled and grazed his fingers along your back or arm for no reason.

The side that held you close while he slept.

Just then, Brooks flung the door open from the cabin and stepped out onto the deck with an apologetic look to his father. Glancing around the table, you realized then he was the only person missing from breakfast.

"Sorry," he mumbled before pulling up a seat next to Mary. "Had too much fun last night."

You tried not to stare but you couldn't stop yourself from noticing his obvious disheveled state. His clothes were wrinkled as if he slept in them, hair sticking out at all angles, and his eyes looked bloodshot and glassy.

"Sheesh, guess I wasn't the only one who drank too much," you muttered to Joel. He looked over his shoulder at Brooks, their eyes momentarily locking, before turning back to you.

"Think it's more than just booze," Joel told you softly. Your eyes widened when you remembered how fidgety Brooks seemed at Glenn's cocktail party and the pieces began to fall together.

Scott clapped his hands together after he tossed back the rest of his Bloody Mary. "What's the plan today, gang?"

Glenn checked his watch while Brooks hunched over his plate, his focus solely on his food.

"We'll find a spot around lunchtime and drop anchor. Try to find somewhere quiet so we can really open up those jet skis. Then we got a beautiful dinner at sunset. Mary wrote the menu, can't wait to see what you have planned, sweetheart," he said, lovingly curling his arm around her shoulders and giving her a kiss. She flushed and grinned, the cute display of affection making you smile.

The table began to murmur, some people standing and stretching as they discussed what they wanted to do with their last few precious hours at sea.

"Sounds like we got some time to kill," Joel said as he watched people branch off towards different sections of the boat. You spotted Scott and Jack already sidling up to Glenn while Tammy linked arms with Lynne and strolled towards the open part of the deck to sunbathe.

"You should probably spend it with Glenn," you told him, jutting your chin in his direction. When you looked back at Joel, you caught something not unlike disappointment flicker across his face before he caught himself.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, "you sure you'll be okay? Don't wanna leave you all alone."

You smiled, touched that he was showing some concern. It was a very different Joel than just a day ago, but you had to keep reminding yourself while his delivery left something to be desired, his message was correct: you were there because you had a job to do, and so was he.

"Yeah. Go get that land so we can have our dream wedding," you joked. He chuckled but when he stood, you noticed his cheeks dusting with pink.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, then reached forward and pinched your chin in exactly the same way he did when you were shopping for clothes on your first day there. "Stay outta trouble for me, will you?"

You giggled and nodded after he dropped his hand from your face. And when he tossed you a flirtatious wink over his shoulder as he was walking away, you felt your face warm and your stomach flip excitedly.

It was too late. You were already in trouble.

"Jesus, I shouldn't have drank," Zoe said nervously while you both watched the crew unload the water toys. "One lap around the yacht on a jet ski and I'll be throwing up my lunch."

"Just aim for the big, wide ocean and not Zach," you joked. Fortunately, you had stuck to your word and hadn't had a drop of alcohol all day, but you still felt your stomach drop when you watched Trevor and Brooks fly past on their jet skis, their bodies bouncing violently with each wave.

Zach called out Zoe's name, his round stomach hanging over the band of his black swim trunks, and she groaned before forcing a fake smile and flirty wave.

"Fucking kill me," she muttered before abandoning your observation post. You leaned over the railing, grinning to yourself as Zoe was getting fit for a life jacket with the fear of god in her eyes when Joel sidled up next to you.

"You wanna take a spin on one of those?" he asked, bumping gently against your shoulder with his own. His skin looked bronzed from all the sun and his eyes sparkled as he gazed down at you.

"Uh, if you want to," you replied, biting your lip nervously when you watched Zoe and Zach take off at full throttle, the look on her face telling you everything you needed to know about the experience.

Joel noticed your hesitation and looked around.

"How 'bout we check out the inflatable stuff?" he offered. You frowned and swiveled your head back and forth. "On the other side of the boat. There's a few different ones, I think. Bit more low-key," he said, giving you an adorable shrug when you looked at him with relief.

"That sounds great," you said, then he tilted his head to the side before pushing off the rail, indicating you should follow him.

Joel was right. The crew had been inflating a couple cabanas, a trampoline and a jungle gym for you to use. Glenn and Mary were already waiting for one of the cabanas, joking with you both about how they felt like chickens for not giving the other toys a try.

The cabanas were spaced apart, the trampoline and jungle gym between them and so far you were lucky; the other guests seemed far more excited about the water toys on the other side of the boat, so you were afforded some privacy together for the first time all weekend.

"'M sorry you've been on your own so much," Joel apologized once you both got comfortable on your cabana. "But I'm makin' good progress, I can feel it. Zachary ain't got a chance in hell," he chuckled.

He sat up and gripped his linen button down shirt at the hem, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side with a grunt. You couldn't look away when his lips puckered around a bottle of water, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he drank. A small noise got stuck in the back of your throat when he finished and a few drops fell from the bottle and trailed slowly down his sun-kissed chest.

"Ain't polite to stare, sweetheart," he said lowly without even looking your way. Your cheeks flared and you fumbled with your sunglasses, but he just chuckled and laid back down.

"Oh! Speaking of Zachary, I have something to tell you," you said, suddenly realizing after your argument the day before, you never told him what you found out.

He rolled his head to the side and squinted up at you. "Oh, yeah?"

You glanced around before leaning in and whispering, "Zoe is a sugar baby."

His eyes went wide and he scrambled to sit up.

"How'd you find that out?"

"She told me yesterday," you shrugged. Joel swallowed tightly, his mind racing.

"Did you..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question and insult you, but needing to know the answer.

"No! Of course not!" you exclaimed. "I wouldn't say a word, I promise."

He nodded, visibly relaxing before averting his gaze. "I just didn't... I know you were pissed yesterday, but you should know it'll void the contract if you say somethin'."

"I know," you said softly, "but regardless of the money, I still wouldn't do that to you, Joel."

Something flickered across his face, something quick that you couldn't read before he looked away and slid his sunglasses on, effectively building his wall back up.

"Oh, and another thing," you added, "she thinks he's in a bad place financially. Says if he doesn't get the bid, he might go bankrupt and have to sell his hotels."

His eyebrows raised above the top of his sunglasses and hummed under his breath, looking thoroughly impressed.

"Goddamn, look at you. Feels like I got my own little spy or somethin'," he said, making you giggle. "Might need to hire you to work for me full time when this is all over."

"Oh, yeah? Doing what?" It was impossible to keep the playfulness from your voice. As much as you tried to deny it, you really enjoyed being on the receiving end of his praise.

"Oh, I'll think of somethin'," he replied, winking at you over the tops of his sunglasses, then smirking when he watched you get all flustered.

You settled back in your seat with a sigh, watching as the other guests zoomed by on their jet skis or dove under the water with the sub aqua toys.

Joel had your number before the plane even landed in Fiji. Even though it was taking you a little longer, you were slowly starting to figure him out. One thing was for sure: his good moods were really good, but his bad moods were really bad. He was obviously a man who had grown accustomed to getting his way, a man who had high expectations for the people who worked for him and had zero tolerance for mistakes.

He was a confusing man, made even more confusing by his behavior towards you. One day he was flirting with you, touching you, kissing you, but the next day he was icy and cold and hyper focused on work.

You turned your head in his direction, watching quietly as he basked in the sun with his eyes closed, skin prickling with sweat. Were you reading too much into those little glances and touches? Was it all part of the act? Or did he feel something more? It was clear you were attracted to him. He called you out on it more than once.

So why wouldn't he fucking do something about it?

"Do you wanna go on the trampoline with me?" you asked. He cracked an eyelid and peered at you.

"I think that stuff's made for kids."

You shrugged and flung off your cover up. You caught the way his eyes raked down your body before pretending to look out at something behind you, and you grinned.

"They wouldn't have set it up if adults can't use them."

"I ain't sayin' adults can't use 'em, I'm sayin' it's childish."

You feigned offense before adjusting your bikini and dipping your toe in the water. It was crystal clear and far too inviting to resist sliding in for a quick dip. The warmth of the water engulfing your entire body sent a thrill right through you. When you bobbed back up to the surface, you brushed the hair away from your face with a sharp gasp. Turning around, you saw Joel had laid back down, his eyes closed once again and facing away from you.

"Are you sure?" you called out to him as you began to swim backwards towards the other inflatables.

"Yep," he replied without opening his eyes. A devious smile tugged at your lips and before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned back and kicked your feet wildly, splashing water all over him.

"Hey!" he shouted angrily, but you were already swimming away as fast as you could. Once you got to the trampoline, you pulled yourself up and swiveled around to see if Joel was truly pissed or if he had just laid back down, but unfortunately from your angle, you couldn't see the front of the cabana.

With a shrug, you stood up and took a few hesitant steps onto the trampoline. It was pretty large, in an octagon shape but no walls, so if you so chose, you could bounce right into the ocean. You took a couple small jumps, barely getting any air so you could get an idea of how strong it was before bending your knees and jumping as high as you could go. You laughed when you landed with your legs tucked under you, relaxing your muscles so you could bounce this way and that until you lost momentum and rolled onto your back.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, enjoying the sway of the ocean underneath you. In the distance, you could hear voices from the others on the water sports, mostly squeals of excitement and barking laughs, but otherwise you were completely at peace.

Before you even had a chance to process it, the trampoline dipped and you were suddenly drenched with water. You shrieked and snapped your eyes open, heart slamming in your chest from shock just to find Joel standing above you smirking with an empty plastic drink bucket in his hand.

You swung your leg out, kicking his legs out from under him. The bucket went flying when he collapsed next to you with a loud, deep laugh you weren't sure you had heard from him before. The sound brought a huge smile to your face only to gasp and yelp when he leapt onto all fours and shook his head like a dog, showering you with the water soaking his hair.

You raised your arms in defense, desperately trying to protect yourself.

"Stop!" you half yelled, half giggled from underneath your hands. Finally, the water stopped raining down on you and you slowly dropped your hands from your face.

Joel was smiling down at you victoriously, his arms bracketing you in on either side of your head. The sun shined brightly behind him, making his wet hair and tanned skin practically fucking sparkle.

"No fair," you whispered.

"Never said I play fair."

You swallowed when you saw his eyes darken, his gaze lazily sliding down your face, your neck, your chest, brazenly taking in every bit of you he could see. He swung his leg over your waist, pinning you down into the trampoline when he sat back on your thighs so he could take the weight off one of his arms. To your surprise, he cupped your jaw and dragged the pad of his thumb over your cheek, carefully and tenderly wiping away the droplets of water from your face while you struggled to remember to breathe beneath him. And just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he spoke again.

"Did I make you all wet, baby?"

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut, the low tone in his voice making it very clear he knew he was tormenting you, making you squirm and bite your lip while you fought to keep a clear head.

"'S'matter? Dish it out but can't take it?" he tsked, his fingers gliding down to trace your lower lip. Your eyes flashed open, your lips tingling under his touch and breath coming in shallow pants. You locked eyes with him and opened your mouth so you could wrap your lips around the tip of his thumb. It sent a surge of satisfaction through you when you saw his eyes go wide and his jaw fall slack. The corners of your mouth twisted up into a smile around his finger, your tongue flicking suggestively against the tip. All the smugness from a moment before vanished from his face, and the only thing that remained was surprise and undeniable lust.

Joel said your name warningly, his eyes glued to the way your mouth was wrapped around his thumb. He could have easily pulled his hand away, but he didn't. He let you swirl your tongue around him, gazing up at him through your wet lashes, your arms lying limp next to your head, painting the perfect picture of obedience and that was when you felt it: a small twitch against your thigh, one he tried to hide by shifting his weight but it was too late. A look of triumph flared in your eye when you released his finger with a grin.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to make it hard on you."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Funny."

You stared at one another for a heavy moment, Joel still pinning you onto the trampoline. You waited for him to do something, say something... anything to acknowledge the elephant in the room before you lost your mind. And for one brief moment, you thought he just might. His lips parted, his expression softened and you held your breath, waiting for it. Then suddenly it was like a door slammed shut. He rolled off you in an instant, leaving you feeling cold despite the tropical, humid heat.

"I'm gonna get somethin' to drink. Want anythin'?"

You shook your head in a daze, the sharp turn of events sending you reeling.

"No."

Then you heard a splash and listened while he swam back to the cabana, leaving you with a devastating ache between your legs and more confused than you thought possible.

Despite Joel leaving you wanting more, you still couldn't wipe the smile from your face the entire afternoon. And it seemed like he couldn't, either. Something felt like it changed in him that day. He appeared more relaxed and happier than you had seen him the entire week you'd been on the island.

It was the reason you were distracted on your way back to your room. You told Joel you were going to take a quick shower and change before dinner right before he got roped into a game of poker with Glenn and a few others, but not before giving you a quick peck on the lips. After he hurried to catch up with the others, you glanced around and found no one was there to witness your little kiss. It wasn't for show.

Your mind was swirling with images of Joel, replaying everything with a stupid smile on your face when you turned the corner of the quiet hallway.

"Oh!" you cried out when you collided with something, or rather someone, firm and strong walking from the opposite direction.

"Hey, there," Brooks said, grabbing onto your shoulders to keep you steady. You took a step back, removing yourself from his hold, and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Wasn't watching where I was going."

You moved to step around him when he blocked you with an extended arm and you looked up at him questioningly.

"Having a good time so far?"

"Uh huh," you replied, folding your arms in front of your chest when you noticed his gaze wandering down. "This yacht is amazing, we're having a great time."

Brooks smiled and propped his hand up so he could lean against the wall, fingers tapping rapidly against the wallpaper, effectively blocking your path.

"Glad to hear it. You're welcome to come for a ride whenever you're on the island next."

You smiled back and tried to create a little more distance, but the hallway was narrow enough as it was.

"That's so nice, thank you. I'll be sure to pass that along to Joel."

"Nah, we don't have to tell the old guy, huh? I was thinking it could just be the two of us," Brooks said, "that way's more fun, don't you think?"

You felt a shiver go down your spine at the hungry way he was looking at you and suddenly you realized, aside from the crew somewhere in the depths of the boat, you were the only ones indoors.

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea," you said, hoping to keep the tremor from your voice. "Joel would be worried."

It didn't seem to matter how many times you reminded him you were with Joel, Brooks still persisted.

"Aw, I'm sure we could work something out," he replied, brushing his knuckles slowly over your bare arm. Your eyes dropped at the contact and the panic began to set in. You knew you should push him away. Hell, you should punch him in the throat and tell him to keep his hands off you, but all you could think of was Joel and how hard he was working to get that plot of land and what a great mood he had been in all day.

So instead, you took a step backwards and pulled your arms tighter across your chest.

"Why don't we talk about it with Joel at dinner?"

You were giving him your fakest smile at that point and he could tell. Slowly, his expression dropped along with the arm that was caging you in.

"Sure," he said, then finally began to slip past you to join the rest of the guests but paused and leaned in to whisper in your ear, "but I see right through you. Everybody's got a price."

By the time you had collected yourself and turned around, Brooks was gone.

"You're missin' an earring," Joel said with a frown the moment you emerged from the cabin, freshly showered but still shaken.

"What?" You lifted your hands to your ears and groaned before removing the one you did have and dropping it in your clutch. "Shit. Sorry. Must've forgot."

His eyes drifted over your face for a moment, concern etching his features. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart. Everythin' okay?"

"Yeah," you said immediately, ignoring the heated look Brooks was giving you behind Joel's back. "Everything's great. How was poker?"

You partially listened to him talk about his card game, joking about how he was lucky they weren't playing for any actual cash because he was fucking terrible at it, but you had a hard time moving past that interaction with Brooks just an hour prior.

He could tell your attention was elsewhere. You looked nervous and distracted but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. He replayed everything over and over since you slipped inside to freshen up. Sure, he knew he left you high and dry after that particularly intense moment on the trampoline, one he knew if he didn't stop, you would both have done something you would regret, but you seemed fine afterwards. The rest of the afternoon you were bubbly and sweet, your playfulness leaving a permanent smile across his face.

So what the hell happened between then and now?

Mary clapped her hands together, sending a wave of silence over the bustling table as everyone turned to give her their attention. Joel's hand found your leg, his instincts telling him you needed an anchor, even if he didn't know why, then twisted around to listen.

"Good evening," Mary began. "Once again, I'm so pleased you could all be here on this beautiful getaway with Glenn, myself, and our boys," she said, giving Trevor and Brooks a loving glance. "I had the pleasure of curating tonight's menu, the theme being Tropical Barbecue."

A ripple went through the table and a pleased smile pulled at Mary's lips. Your eyes flickered down to Joel's hand on your thigh and you slid your own on top, fingers curling around his. After a moment where you felt him still, his thumb came up to brush gently against your knuckles, making you smile at the comfort it brought.

Mary began to describe each course and her inspiration behind her choices, but you were finding it difficult to focus. Everybody's got a price. What did that mean? Did Brooks somehow find out you were hired by Joel to fabricate a relationship and sway his father into selling him the land?

No, that would be impossible... right?

Then Joel uttered your name softly and you snapped out of your trance.

"Huh?"

He fixed you with another concerned look.

"I asked what you wanted to drink."

"Oh," you said, shaking your head a bit, "I'll just stick with water, thanks."

He scanned your movements. Your eyes were darting around nervously, your foot was tapping incessantly on the floor and he hadn't seen you smile once since you washed up.

Joel leaned into your side, hand still firmly planted on your leg, and murmured, "You can drink, y'know. I ain't mad 'bout yesterday."

"Mhm, I know," you replied, tugging your lower lip between your teeth. Joel shifted his weight in his chair and gave a polite smile to the crew member who placed two plates in front of you. He watched you pick up a fork and pick at your first course and he swore he saw your hand tremble.

"Did I do somethin'?" he asked after leaning in again. "If it's 'bout earlier, we can talk -"

"What are you two lovebirds whispering about down there?" Brooks' booming voice called from his end of the table. You each turned to look at him, Joel with politeness, you with dread. When Brooks met your eye, you could see the veiled threat behind his otherwise friendly demeanor: don't you say a fucking word.

"Just talkin' 'bout what a great time we've had 'n how disappointed we are it's comin' to an end," Joel replied kindly. His hand left your leg to pick up his glass of scotch and you instinctively found yourself raising your arm, trying to bring him back to you, surprising yourself with your neediness.

Joel raised his glass for a toast to Glenn and Mary while you forced a shaky smile and raised your water. Zoe leaned into your other side when the volume rose around the table and whispered, "Are you pregnant?"

You sputtered around your glass and you looked at her all wild-eyed.

"No!"

She giggled and shrugged. "You've been drinking water all day and you look like you're about to hurl."

You laughed at the absurdity of it and you finally felt some of your nerves begin to ease. If only she knew how long it had been since the last time you had sex.

"No, I promise you I'm not."

"Not what?" Joel asked when he turned away from talking with Harry on his other side.

"Nothing," you replied sweetly. The tone of your voice made him smile and his hand found your leg again. Then, his brows knit together and he raised his other hand to swipe his thumb gently over the corner of your mouth. When he pulled it back to examine the spot of barbecue sauce he collected, your breath stuttered at the same time his paused. It seemed as though you both realized at the exact same time he was holding up the same thumb you had wrapped your lips around just hours before.

His eyes met yours and his lips parted. Slowly, he raised his thumb to his mouth and you watched with heavy lidded eyes as his soft looking lips spread open across his finger, taking an unnecessary moment to grunt in pleasure when the sweet and tangy sauce was lapped up by his tongue.

"Mmm, you taste good," he teased with a little smirk. His chest flooded with warmth when he saw that playful spark in your eye again. He didn't like it when you weren't yourself, he realized, but he really, really didn't like to see you cry. It only happened once, but he knew he didn't want to see it again. As much as he tried to fight it, he had grown too fond of your sweet nature already. He liked the way you stood in awe of the affluence surrounding you but also found a great deal of joy from a few pink seashells, so delicate and so beautiful.

Just like you.

He noticed the more attention he gave you, the happier you became, and he really shouldn't have liked that as much as he did. Seeing your wide smile and hearing your adorable laugh made him soften. But watching your eyes glaze over or your eyelids flutter from his touch, whether it be your arm or leg or back, did something else to him entirely. Something that made him have to remind himself more than once during dinner that this was all an act, that this wasn't real.

Once dinner finished up, you appeared back to your usual self once again. Your hand fused with his while everyone said their good nights, and they remained that way when you walked together towards your room, the air around you silent and thick.

You swallowed nervously as you picked up your pajamas from where you abandoned them earlier that morning.

Instantly, your cheeks warmed when you remembered how you both woke up, all tangled limbs and hesitant glances. You cleared your throat and kept your eyes cast down while you maneuvered around him to get to the bathroom. As you changed and washed up, you wondered what would happen that evening. Probably nothing, you decided, based on the way he abruptly stopped things that afternoon, but just in case you made sure to apply a little lip balm and spritzed a dash of perfume in your hair.

"All yours," you said shyly before sliding into bed. All yours, all yours, all yours. You listened to the water running in the bathroom while you flipped through the channels on the television before giving up and turning it off.

When he exited the bathroom, you locked eyes and gave him a small smile. He tossed his clothes into a pile next to his overnight bag before turning off the lights and slipping into bed next to you with a groan.

You both laid there for a few minutes, each of you staring up at the dark ceiling, your hearts beating too fast to really find any rest. Finally, you tilted your head to the side and peered at him through the darkness. You could just make out his side profile in the moonlight, his distinctive sharp nose and the little pout to his lips.

"I can't sleep," you whispered. He blinked and turned his face towards you.

"Why?"

Everybody's got a price.

Did I make you all wet, baby?

"I don't know," you lied.

He turned onto his side so he was facing you, then you did the same. You left your hand flat on the mattress between you, not touching, but wishing you were.

"Did you wanna talk 'bout... earlier?" he asked softly. You couldn't really make out his face but you heard it in his voice; he was uncertain.

For a moment, you almost said yes. Yes, please explain what the hell is going on between us. Until you realized you may not like the answer, then you whispered, "No."

You couldn't see it, but he was relieved.

"Okay," he replied. You inched your hand a little closer.

"Can I ask you something, Joel?"

He nodded, then remembered it was too dark to see. "Yeah."

You took a deep breath. "What did Tammy really mean this morning when she mentioned your family?"

He inhaled sharply and you immediately knew you weren't getting an answer. "Don't matter," he replied, then stretched out his arm to loop around your shoulders. "C'mere," he added, giving you a tug and pulling you into his chest.

You burrowed your face against him, arms wrapping around his middle, all thoughts of Tammy and Brooks erased from your mind. Instead, you focused on how warm he felt, how good he smelled, how strong his heart sounded against your ear, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

"Hey."

You heard his voice whispering in your ear, but you frowned and ignored it. It was barely light out, too early to wake up, and you were so warm and at peace curled up next to him, you didn't want it to end.

"Hey," he whispered again, this time a little louder. Still, you didn't respond. Then you heard him curse under his breath and shift his weight on the bed.

Finally, your curiosity was enough to make you open your eyes.

He rolled onto his back, his arm still trapped underneath you but the other was stretching down to grip his rock hard erection through the comforter. Your eyes widened when you saw the pained look in his face after he flexed his hand, as if he were trying to seek out some relief without actually jerking himself off. His eyes were screwed shut and his brows furrowed together while he focused on taking long, deep breaths. Then he squeezed himself again and a quiet noise slipped past his lips. The tendons in his neck strained with effort, his skin looked flushed and a little sweaty and the entire visual was enough for you to feel your pussy soften and throb.

He must have wanted you to move so he could get up and take care of himself in the bathroom, but fortunately your deep sleep paid off into what you saw as a golden opportunity.

Before you could overthink it, you slid your hand down his stomach towards his waistband, but right as your fingertips came in contact with the elastic, he stopped you.

"What're you doin'?" he asked gruffly, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

"Giving you a hand," you replied, hoping you sounded sultry like you intended.

"'S not funny," he said, yanking your hand out from under the covers before he looked at you. His eyes were stern but his forehead dotting with sweat and his chest heaving underneath his white tshirt gave him away.

He wanted this.

"I'm not laughing," you said, trying to tug your hand from his grip, but he shook his head. You squirmed next to him under the covers, pressing your thighs together, feeling your arousal soak through your panties. "Please," you whispered, voice breaking on just the one syllable. He shook his head again but you felt his fingers begin to loosen around your wrist.

"Can't," was all he managed to grit out. You groaned and lunged forward, biting angrily at his jaw, then his lower lip.

"Why?" you practically begged, your mouth brushing over his beard, the sharp hairs poking your sensitive lips, leaving them feeling tingly when you pulled away and asked again, "Why, Joel?"

"Ain't part of the deal."

You scoffed and hooked both your legs around one of his, pulling it towards you, towards the heat radiating between your legs. You began to roll your hips, doing your best to torment him into breaking by rubbing yourself on his thigh.

"I don't care about the deal," you replied, narrowing your eyes as you continued to rock your hips against him. "I want you, Joel, fucking please," you whined, then gasped when he dropped your hand and in one swift movement, hauled you up so you were straddling his lap.

"You think you want me, but you don't. Not really," he told you, jaw tense and eyes so dark, you could barely see the sliver of dark chocolate brown you had grown so fond of.

"What does that mean?" you asked. His statement made your hips stall in a moment of clarity.

His eyes dropped to your chest, swallowing when he noticed your nipples poking through your loose fitting tank top.

"You don't know me, darlin'."

"Yes, I do," you cooed, bending forward seductively to play with his hair, but in reality you were just trying to give him a glimpse of your tits.

"No, you don't," he shot back, his eyes glued to your chest, his hands leaving bruises on your hips when he began to shift you back and forth, encouraging you to rub yourself over his clothed erection. "And I ain't gonna fuck you, baby, I'm sorry."

You fought back the sob that clawed its way up your throat. "You want me, too," you tried, tipping your head back and biting your lip when you felt his cock slide perfectly through your folds. He was thick, that much you could tell, and you moaned at the thought of him stretching you open. How delicious that sting would feel at first, the pain that would bleed into pleasure, your mingled breaths and the feel of your skin sticking together that first time.

"This is... fuck," he groaned, bucking his hips up to meet yours. "This is a business relationship, that's it." But his voice held no conviction whatsoever.

"Yeah?" you panted, tilting your chin down to look at him. He was fucking wrecked underneath you. His eyes were all wild, teeth clenching together so hard the muscle in his jaw twitched. You smirked and lunged forward to kiss him, your tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. He whined against your lips, his hands sliding up your back, pressing against your spine as he gave in, his jaw falling open wider, giving you more room to swirl your tongues together frantically while your hips ground down onto his lap, selfishly chasing your high.

"If you do this with all your business partners, I can see how you became so successful," you breathed when you pulled away.

His eyes fluttered closed and you watched his muscles relax, as if he were giving up the fight. You leaned forward and tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth, your thighs burning from the effort as you continued to rut yourself against him. You felt the tip of his cock catch on your clit and you squeaked as a shiver ran through you and your vision began to blur.

"Joel," you whimpered, pressing your nose against his throat.

"Just... just take what you need, sweetheart," he told you, wrapping his arms around your ribs. "I'm hangin' on by a thread here, just - take what you need."

You whined and pushed your face into his neck, too close to your orgasm to fight with him any longer.

"Come with me," you whispered. You could feel his body tremble underneath you at the request, but he replied, "No."

Tears stung your eyes and you weren't sure if it was the confusion surrounding his steadfast rejection or the intensity of your orgasm, but either way you gasped and two tears slid down your cheeks when you fell apart on top of him.

With a shocking amount of speed, Joel flipped you over so you were on your back. He hovered above you, watching your release wash over you, his hips still pressing against your center, still grinding and thrusting and rubbing as he memorized the look on your face when you came. And maybe it was just all too much: too much build up, too much tension, too much begging for his cock from your perfect fucking mouth because he suddenly tensed and groaned.

Your eyes snapped open in surprise when you felt the warmth spreading through his boxers and dampness leaking through the fabric, just barely touching your skin.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned as he continued to come, "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He dropped his chin to his chest, mouth forming a circle and his eyes squeezing shut while his body pulsed and shook with an incredible amount of force.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You stared at one another, each of you panting for air with your hearts hammering wildly in your chests and heat flushing your faces. Slowly, when you began to come down, reality seeped in. As much as he tried to fight it, and as frustrated as you were with him, there was no denying it now:

A line was crossed, and there was no going back.

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[lottiies]

RESTORING NATURAL BEAUTY

ᡣ𐭩 Pure fluff!! Leon takes your makeup off for you

WC: 700+

NOTE: this is completely self indulgent because i do in fact love doing a full face of makeup it’s so fun (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) um lowkey think the tags are pretty dead right now but it’s okay idm

MASTERLIST

Putting makeup on is always fun, but laziness sets in whenever the time to wash it all off arrives. You wish you could cover your ears and sing ‘la la la, I can’t hear you’ to the knowledge that sleeping with a full face was in fact harmful to your skin. But you couldn’t. The world is becoming more and more advanced but they still haven’t been able to create products that you can sleep with? What a joke.

You’re cuddling with Leon, smushing yourself against his chest, your dolled up face threatening to smudge foundation and powder all over his shirt.

“I’m so tired, Leon. I wanna go to sleep.”

“And what’s stopping you?”

“This.” You say in a grumpy tone, lifting your face and looking up at him through your false lashes.

“Ah. Don’t pout, I’ll take it off for you.” He smiled fondly at you, holding you as he stood up from the bed. Leon was well aware you didn’t want to get up, so he easily scooped you into his strong arms, carrying you over to the bathroom and setting you down on the closed lid of the toilet. You didn’t even have to move an inch or ask him to do anything. What a man.

Leon hadn’t known much about makeup removal prior to dating you, but he was pretty much an expert now. Micellar water, cleanser, face wash, and then tons of kisses to your face was the solution. He was smart, a quick learner, he was sure he even knew how to apply your makeup just the way you liked it at this point just by observing you. His hands were steady, they had to be in order for him to have a good aim when the world was in peril…surely doing your makeup wouldn’t be too difficult, right?

He washed his hands thoroughly then pat them before going over to you, the scent of soap lingered on his skin.

“Close your eyes, princess.” Once you did, he carefully took your falsies off. He always felt a bit uneasy at this step, what if he hurt you or accidentally pulled your actual lashes off? He’d never hear the end of it.

He put some micellar water onto a cotton pad. One of his hands held onto your jaw oh so gently, making you tilt your head back a bit. He couldn’t resist, leaning down momentarily to steal a kiss from your pouty lips, you were always so sulky when you were tired. But his sweet gesture made you smile.

“There’s my girl, you’re so pretty when you smile.”

“So I’m not pretty when I’m not smiling?”

“You’re cute when you’re sulking and pretty when you smile.”

“What about when I’m mad?”

“Adorable. Like…” He tried to come up with an example. “When a kitten tries to scratch at you but it’s too cute to do any damage.”

Silence followed, you couldn’t make a comeback so you just changed the topic instead. Typical.

“Would you ever let me do your eyeliner?” You asked, relishing the way he tilted your face side to side to ensure he was running the cotton pad over all areas of your face.

“Mm…” He hummed in thought, purposely taking a long time to answer. “Yeah, I would. Why? You wanna make me look all pretty like you?”

“You’re already really pretty, silly. I’ve always told you that you’d totally rock the eyeliner look.”

He would. Eye makeup would look amazing on him. Or maybe having that cute cupid’s bow of his be more pronounced with some lip liner. You secretly hoped he would never ask you to put foundation on him though, maybe you were being a bit hypocritical but you internally couldn’t help it! Leon was crafted with so many dreamy details. You were blessed enough to have the chance to see them up close and adore them. The faint set of wrinkles between his brows from the stress of his job that made him furrow his eyebrows all the time, all the little acne scars and skin imperfections he held. You’d be devastated if he hid them all. But the most he has asked is for you to use concealer on his eye-bags.

“Maybe tomorrow then, if you’re up for it?”

“Okay! Um, I might mess up a bit though…my hand gets all shaky.”

“That’s what this micellar water is for, isn’t it?”

He rubbed off all your makeup, admiring all your natural features that shone through. Leon had always been attracted to your talent of applying makeup, having watched you switch styles and improve over time. He always liked sitting with you as you did your makeup, you always acted like you were doing some type of YouTube tutorial and he found it so fucking cute. Like, he would smooch you over and over if he wouldn’t be putting your routine into jeopardy. The surge of affection that rushed through him when he laid eyes on your bare face was indescribable.

Gorgeous. Cute. Pretty. Beautiful. All of the above, he wished there was a word that combined all of those into one.

[huellitaa]

౨ৎ ⋆｡• vogue beauty secrets 🐰 ๋࣭ ⭑

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ hair

don't wash your hair every day! i think everybody knows this but i know a couple people who still dont wash their hair only 2-3 times a week. obviously it depends on ur hair type but only wash your hair when it needs it!

don't wash your hair with scalding hot water either. its not only bad for your body and face but its also bad for your hair as it ruins the natural oils and damages cells etc

if you have frizzy or easily knotted hair i recommend keeping a comb on hand in the shower and using it to detangle before putting in any products

i've been emulsifying my shampoo for only a couple of weeks but my hair is sooo much fluffier afterwards so i definitely recommend that!!

now i'm torn on this one but apparently shampooing twice is better for your hair than doing it once? i tried it one time and it did not end well for my hair type but i know it works for a lot of people so if you wanna give it a try then go for it ♡

i squeeze excess water out of my hair before i put in my conditioner so i can completely get it in there without

also change your pillow case often! this is for your face too, as the oils will build up and thats not good for ur hair or face. i change it once a week but 2x a week is good too if you're able 💓

don't go to bed with wet hair. stop doing that. its super bad for your hair and keeping it pretty & fluffy & cute

airdrying is my holy grail, been doing it since i was little and dont regret a thing. its a billion times better than blow drying & makes ur hair so fluffy too ♡

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ body

DO NOT. HAVE. THE WATER. BOILING HOT. i am guilty of this and have been for years but it has such a bad impact and you shouldnt do it! cold showers are better but i prefer warm showers so theres a middle ground (& its always cold in england, so id freeze to death.)

using body lotion after the shower has been such a game changer for me its incredible. makes you smell nice, feel nice, look nice, and its so relaxing and i feel like a princess after i do it <3

exfoliating is really important if your aim is for soft skin 💓 i have been doing it for months and as somebody with super rough skin its SO soft now

partake in some form of exercise. i hated hated hated sports and exercise when i was younger but i did do dance up until i was eleven and have been doing pilates consistently for months now, and my mindset towards it has changed drastically over the years to finally a healthy one. it can be a difficult thing to get into but make it something you enjoy. it doesn't have to be sports. ill make a post on this soon but it can be pilates, kpop dances, running, hot girl walks, anything! and most importantly, do it for mental health and physical health, not losing weight.

make sure you're eating properly. remember that 1400 to 2400 calories of nutritious substance is the MINIMUM. this of course depends on many variables including, weight, height, BMR, what it is your eating, et cetera. your body is so important & is there to be nourished and not neglected !!! ♡ (💭🎀edit: updated info on calories and nutrition from a lovely anon i received a message from this morning! ♡)

change your bedsheets every week if you wanna smell good, this is so important bc sweat and odour will build up if u dont and thats icky and wont make u smell good & probably isnt the best for your skin either!

i also put two similar body washes on in the shower that i get SO many compliments on & its really helpful if one of your priorities is smelling good

dont just wash body wash straight off, let it sit for a few moments so the scent can actually sink into ur skin

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ face

skincare every morning & every night. if ur tired or just not feeling it today then simplify it, just make sure you never leave it out because its super important! no. skipping. no work = no reward.

on this note, try not to have a too complicated skincare routine, as this can backfire and make ur skin worse than before. your skin isnt meant for 18 different products and 200 chemicals every morning!

never wash your face with hot water... this is also a given but just in case... it strips your skin of its natural oils and does more harm than good

stop touching ur face... just for those who need a little reminder

make sure ur sleeping enough. seriously disney princess movies meant it when they talked ab beauty sleep; it seriously makes a difference, so please try make this a priority, especially if you already have dark circles like myself! (like girl did you see aurora's face? my girl's skin was so clear i could see my reflection)

pay attention to what makes ur face puffy or irritated or makes you get break outs. i keep a little break out log in my skincare page in my journal (little teaser for an upcoming post 🤭) and this has helped me go over what helps or hurts my skin! i recommend this especially if ur prone to acne or breakouts 💖

cold spoons in the morning to depuff your eyes; ive only been doing this a handful of times but im making it a habit seeing as it really helps! (as someone who can get vv puffy eyes 😭)

hydration is so important, for everything in this list, but most of all (from my experience) your face! i drink A Lot of water every day. probably a bit too much. but its so worth it, my skin has been absolutely amazing ever since i started actually making hydration a priority. (and this is coming from a girl who didnt touch a drop of water when she was younger & had to go hospital for dehydration several times.)

i'd recommend scrubbing ur lips too in the morning when you brush your teeth, i saw this on pinterest aaages ago bc i had super dry lips and i do it every morning & every night RELIGIOUSLY. its so so good and i definitely recommend

i have super dry lips in the morning so lip balm in the mornings w my skincare is absolutely essential for me

i also put perfume behind my ears & on my neck so its the first thing people smell when they hug me! im a very touchy person and i love hugs and i love showing love to people so this is essential for me but its optional, just makes you smell good ♡

[uc1wa]

*heavy sigh* possessive frat boy Dick Grayson getting increasingly more deranged about how he lays his claim on you as the semester wears on, finals week breaking point where he loses it on you like you're a stress ball, etc.

even though he'd never cave and make you his gf, nope no sir

tags: fem reader, toxic relationship, yanderish, misogyny, mentions of rough sex, penetrative sex, choking, manipulation, fucked up frat boy dick

dick fucked a different girl every weekend, y'know, before his drunk self stumbled to your door. but who cares about the smell of perfume that's clung to his half-buttoned top? the top that has buttons in places they aren't supposed to be. who cares? because he's still going to come home to you, and you'll be his last fuck of every weekend.

but you? the first load he spilled on your stomach should've said enough, no? dick doesn't just fuck everybody, at least that's what he thinks. you're his and his only.

the first time he smelt another guy's cologne on you, saw a shirt that was surely not yours, a product of your own one-night stand, dick grayson lost his shit. fucked you like you were a sleeve for his cock rather than a person.

"then... are we dating?" the condescending laugh that left dick's lips was your answer. dating? the word made him gag, why would he lock himself down when he was at his prime? are you stupid? do you know who he is?

no, you weren't dating. you were fucking, but you obviously had a problem understanding your place, didn't you?

it started with hickies. an embarrassing amount that no number of necklaces or turtleneck tops could cover in their entirety. hickies that started at your jaw, dark splotches moving down your body. did you want to wear a crop top? dick's taking note to leave one on either side of your hips. where there's skin, there are remnants of the man to whom you belonged.

it wasn't hard to stake his claim on you, but he also knew you were hot. do you think dick grayson, the commodity that he was, would fuck somebody ugly? he's not that low. he has priorities for himself.

hickies weren't enough, though. did you think you were slick when he saw a video of you at another frat house, one outside of his own, grinding on a man who was plenty of social levels below dick? you thought he wouldn't find out that you're even more of a slut than he thought?

rather than a hand wrapped around your throat, he used manipulation to his advantage. with a sickeningly sweet voice, he bought you a necklace with his initials since you needed a tag like a puppy; now you know not to run away, right?

"marking your territory, huh?" his brother, wally laughs when he sees you sporting the chain with a prideful chest, gold falling between your tits. don't look too hard, that's dick's property now!

"had to," dick replies, unfazed. "nothing too serious, though." he reminds his brother from his seat in their shared house. but it's still not enough.

he wants you all to himself and it eats away at him. hickies continuing, sucking your face in public, it's not enough because you're still giving guys attention. 'just friends' his ass.

that's why, overtop of the gold chain, his hand covers your throat and pushes down hard. between hickey-covered thighs, his cock is stuffing you full with painfully slow movements.

"i gotta remind you?" he asks, long past acknowledging the fact that you can't speak from the force his hand holds around your windpipe. "whose cunt is this?" a strangled whine, and dick squeezes harder, a satisfied smile pulling his lips when he finally feels your pussy squeeze around his length.

he doesn't care about words; he cares about your cunt being carved into the shape of his cock. he cares about sculpting you like clay 'till any guy you wanna talk to can only smell dick on you. can only smell the expensive cologne he wears, can only smell the scent of his musk. 'till you're limping to all your finals, and there's not a second thought from your classmates who put you in that state; the infamous "DG" that's still hanging between your tits, that's who!

[murdrdocs]

lots of scent talk? fingering; foursome; MDNI 18+ w/ ART DONALDSON & PATRICK ZWEIG & TASHI DUNCAN

the hotel room is victim to a stiff heat unlike anything you've ever felt before. you've been privy to the heat that comes with matches in the south, and you're well aware of what happens when the AC decides to break in the tiny hotel rooms they've put you in.

but this heat is different. it's uncomfortable, yes, but that makes you want it more. it has a stench, strong to the point where it's loud. it blares in your face, almost taking your attention off of them. almost.

you're surrounded by their bodies, the heat of the room radiating off of them. there's a different heat to all of them. unique in ways that will implement itself into your mind to be called on later.

art has a cleanliness to him. he's warm, burning up when you touch his face, ears, and neck. but he's sturdy. he's desperate, pulling your leg over his hip as he grinds his crotch into yours. his boner presses into you almost awkwardly. it's maneuvered by art's hips, and eventually, it lays flat against you through his gingham boxers after some effort. you have your legs spread as far as they can go, welcoming the heat of art's dick against the taunt crotch of your panties. when he's not kissing you, he's breathing into you. this is supposed to be foreplay, but art's getting off to it. his forehead rests against yours and his nose is slotted right up against yours as he breathes onto you. he breathes with you. he breathes into you, releasing air into your awaiting mouth.

every so often, he'll stick his tongue out and probe it into your mouth, maybe swipe it along your bottom lip. eventually, you catch his tongue with your lips, puckering them around the muscle until you have a good enough grip to suck. your head even starts bobbing as if you're sucking him off. and this gets art. he grinds into you with more fervor. he groans low in the back of his throat in the way that he does when you've helped him roll out a particularly tense part of his body.

you have to slow him down from cumming too soon by bringing your bent leg up between you both, nudging your knee cap into his chest. one of his big hands pushes your leg out from between you both, and then he goes in. he doesn't wait, he doesn't hesitate, and it's only through the jesting coming from beside you that he stops. you take your lips from around his tongue and he keeps the muscle there for a second, suspended in air, before he licks his lips and finally closes his mouth.

and then comes the heat from patrick. this heat is similar to the one in the hotel room, likely the largest contributor. stiff, a strong stench. he's musky in the way that says he isn't completely well groomed, but it works for him. his musk is one of money. you can smell it on him—the hints of cologne still not washed off, the smell of fabric softener you likely cannot and will not get in the aisles of a regular grocery store, the waft of hair products that smell just clean enough. it all works to barely mask the musk from his skin, the smell of sweat working against deodorant and everything else included.

patrick kisses at your neck first, burying his nose behind your ear as his hand slides over your collarbones and latches onto the other side of your neck. he pulls you closer to him. he grips the side of your neck, digging his fingertips into the flesh, bringing his thumb around front and clutching. he holds you and you like it. your back arches and you don't have to be told to turn your head, but patrick directs you anyway.

his hand is warm when it slides up to your cheek. he sandwiches your face, pressing four of his fingers into one cheek and his thumb into the other. he pulls you towards him, bringing you to the heat of his mouth. there isn't any hesitance before he has his tongue pressing against yours, your tongues sliding together from the tips to as far back as you can reach.

there comes a moment where patrick, likely driven by his need to be as close to you as possible, nudges his tongue a little too far back. he slides it along the top of your mouth, running it along the ridges, and then he presses into the back of your tongue, almost triggering your gag reflex. you jerk as if he had and try to move back, but patrick holds you still. he eases up a bit, ceasing his almost never ending addition of saliva onto your mouth.

art has stilled a bit between your legs, but he's still fidgety. he has his fingers tapping against your knees and eventually, without much warning at all, they stop. your eyes are closed, lost in bliss of patrick giving you yet another prideful mark, but you open them to the sound of kissing. you see tashi attached to art. she has her hands on his face, pulling him away from you. he leaves the space between your legs empty as he crawls over to tashi, his head tilted up as he rests upon her altar.

you don't know how long they're there. you're too busy sitting in the fever settling over your body while trying your best to reciprocate patrick's lips over yours while his fingers pump in and out of you. but soon there's another pair of fingers gliding down your cunt, running around patrick's two thick fingers down to where you're gushing out arousal. it's tashi, kneeling between your legs. over patrick's head, you see art sitting off to the side, his feet tucked under his butt and his hands rubbing up and down his legs almost as if he's nervously waiting for something.

you can't attempt to decipher his intentions when tashi nudges patrick's wrist to the side, turning his fingers inside of you to a new angle that has you gasping. patrick shushes you quickly, kissing into the center pit of your neck.

tashi's heat is sweet. it's comforting and familiar. she places her fingers onto your clit, rubbing your own arousal around your pert bud. she settles in between your thighs, running her tongue along your inner thigh. you can't smell her until a gust of wind pushes through the open window, and she smells like perfumes and body oils and lotions. they are either all the same, or they just compliment each other well enough. she smells like a kiosk in the mall, but less over powering. she smells gentle, like warm flowers. the heat of her lips against your inner thighs is nice. it's heavy, but less imposing than the heat of curiosity from patrick on your neck. less intense than the heat of primal desire you felt from art.

she's gentle, the reprieve you need from the intense way patrick shoves his fingers into you and the satisfaction you desired from when art had clumsily knocked his hips into yours. she's slower on your clit, helping your orgasm build up as patrick digs and searches for the spot that she can find easily.

"it's to the left," she tells him, and just like that, patrick finds the spot. your hand wraps around patrick's wrist, your nails digging into his skin.

tashi looks up at you, her smile small but very much there. it's visible and familiar, the same smile you saw her wear whenever patrick and art pushed their lips together for the first time without any inhibitions. it's knowing.

she knows that despite the stiff heat circulating through the room, and the individual heat coming from each of you only making it worse, this is part of your dream. your deepest darkest desire that you only admitted to her no more than 48 hours ago whenever you first laid eyes on fire and ice as they'd been dubbed.

she jerks her head to her right just a bit, enough to signal something to you. your eyes turn and you see art, still sitting in the same spot but with his cock pulled out. he's slowly tracing his thumb over the tip, spreading what looks to be a sizable drop of precum over his head. when you find tashi again, she lifts her thick eyebrows once and you know that look. she's asking you if you want a taste.

she leans up, occupying the space previously taken by art. her smile widens when her eyes meet yours. you can feel it hovering over your lips when she brings her head down. instinctively, your head tilts up as you wait for her to knock your lips together. she doesn't do it immediately and you feel pathetic as you wait. you feel like art.

"yeah?" she asks, her lips moving closer and closer to yours.

"yeah," you confirm. and finally, she presses her lips to yours.

[purinjoong]

take off your halo and wings (j.yh)

summary: yunho can't keep his hands off his angel, especially when he stumbles on one of your less than angelic desires.

jeong yunho x reader :: established relationship, smut, fluff, pervert!yunho, soft and slight mean dom yunho, fem bodied reader (gender not specified)

warnings below the cut!

praise, dacryphilia, marking, slight size kink, fingering, unprotected sex (!!!), dirty talk, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, love, puppy)

notes: sadly not proofread im too impatient .. </3 approx 4.9k words!

Yunho swears he would never do anything you’re not ready for, and he doesn’t have any ulterior motives as he snuggles deeper into your embrace on the couch, the colors dancing on the TV flickering across your face. He likes this show, he really does— he was the one who asked to watch it with you— but with the way your head is nuzzled just under his chin and your body is pressed comfortably against his, he has front-row tickets to the tantalizing scent of your hair products and the dizzying warmth of your skin under his palms and against his thighs. 

Every breath he takes thrusts him further into his thoughts, heart thumping against his chest so hard he’s afraid it’ll start jostling you with its movement if it beats any faster. He’s overwhelmed by the need to smooth his palms against the sweet curve of your hips, to kiss you until you’re gasping for air, your clenched fists cutely twisting at the fabric of his loose shirt as he drops his head to your neck, nipping at the soft skin. 

He’s staring blankly ahead, lost in thoughts of you when you let out a cute squeak at something happening in the show. At the noise, his gaze flits down to where your bodies are tangled together, breath hitching as you shuffle around in his hold to get more comfortable. Your thighs are sandwiching one of his arms now, and he’s genuinely holding his breath trying not to whimper from how desperately he needs to have his mouth between your thighs instead, your fingers weaved into his hair as he licks and sucks at you. 

You seem to have noticed something is off, since you tear your eyes away from the screen to fix him with an angelic look of concern, pretty eyes wide and sparkly as you ask him if he’s feeling alright. Fuck, he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but he responds with a mumbled noise of confusion because he genuinely can’t focus on anything other than the way your lips curve around every vowel you utter and how badly he needs your lips moving against his own.

Your arm (the one that isn’t wrapped around his back) comes up to brush some of his hair out of his face, and it’s just a soft, gentle touch, but he can’t stop the shuddered breath that escapes his chest. He’s so thankful the back of your hand covers the sinful way his eyes threaten to roll back into his head from the mere brush of your fingers against his forehead. 

“You’re warm, baby,” you say worriedly, flipping the hand resting against his forehead so that your palm is pressed against it instead. 

“‘M fine,” he replies, inwardly pumping his fist at how normal he sounds in spite of the desire thrumming through his veins. “Let’s keep watching,” 

You give him a look, eyebrows cutely knitting together in disapproval, but you bring your hand away from his forehead and go back to resting your cheek against his chest to comfortably face the TV. 

The measured rise and fall of your body as it lays against his lulls him further into his daze. He tries to tug his arm away from the back of the couch so he can stroke your hair, but his limbs move like he’s trying to swim through a pool of syrup.

It doesn’t help that he’s so acutely aware of how close his other arm is to your core— the bare skin of your thighs are so soft and warm where they’re sandwiched around his forearm, and if you shift any closer he’ll literally be pressed right against the seat of your cute pajama shorts, applying sweet pressure that he knows would have you struggling to stifle a moan.

He feels like a pervert, he is a pervert, with the way he cartoonishly gulps at the slightest movement of the neckline of the shirt you’re borrowing from him. With the way it’s driving him insane right now, he can’t decide whether he wants you wearing it forever or if he should put all his clothes into a suitcase and throw it out into the ocean before he short circuits from how much he loves you and how seeing you in his clothes stokes the flames of the possessive little fire blazing in his heart, burning bright for you. It makes him want to growl mine, into every part of your body he can get his hands on, pressing a soft kiss and a sharp bite anywhere you’ll let him until you’re a collage of marks proving his adoration for you. 

Yunho’s fingers have been absentmindedly stroking your hair for a while now, and as his thoughts grow more possessive, his strokes have turned into delicious little tugs that feel just right, leading you to bite at your bottom lip and tense your thighs to prevent them from closing tighter around his arm. A particularly insistent tug at your hair from his long fingers draws a pathetic whine from your throat, a needy and wanton plea that causes both of you to freeze. 

You shut your eyes tightly, bashful— you’re just cuddling, for fuck’s sake, but as you’re smoldering with embarrassment, Yunho is fighting the urge to flip you onto your back and kiss the shit out of you. To draw more pretty sounds out of his favorite person until you’re begging him to stop, it’s too much, you can’t take it, but you both know you can and you love that he’ll make you take it. 

He opts for being more casual, so as not to scare you with the overwhelming wave of affection that washes over him from his forehead— where your hand was resting earlier— down to the tips of his toes, and tugs at your hair again. He manages to draw another sound out of you, a muffled little whimper (because you’ve doubled down on the force you’re biting your lip with), but it sends his heart reeling nonetheless. 

“What’s this, baby?” he breathes against your ear, and you shudder at his close proximity. 

“Nothing,” is your petulant response, and you both know it’s a lie with how your thighs shift around his arm. 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Yunho says with a soft chuckle, the slight rasp to his voice shooting a bolt of arousal straight to your core. “It sounds like my angel has a dirty little secret to spill,” 

You open your mouth to protest, but he chooses that moment to apply just the right amount of pressure with his nails against your scalp and pulls. With your lips now accessible, a debauched moan floats free from your chest, and it's Yunho’s turn to feel a jolt of arousal shock his body. He wants nothing more than to take you, play you like a delicate instrument that sings a sweet melody just for him, but he sets his feelings aside because he decides he wants to hear you beg first. 

Everything about you is cute, and Yunho can go on for hours given the chance, but there’s something so delectable about seeing you soft and flustered in his arms, everything from your supple cheeks to your shy gaze just begging him to keep teasing you until you melt into his embrace like a marshmallow over an open flame. 

You won’t meet his eyes, not after the tempting way you keened into the pull of his fingers, and it drives him crazy. You’re embarrassed, but you don’t even have a clue how worked up everything you do makes him. It’s delightful, and it’s infuriating, but more than anything, it conjures that perverted, possessive beast in him that belongs to you, just like the rest of him. 

“Why are you so shy, baby?” he whispers. “Tell me how to make you feel good, and it’s yours,” Your gaze flickers to his bow-shaped lips, but it’s still shy, measured, like you’re afraid another whine will pierce the air if you let up on how harshly you’re biting your lip. 

There’s something so lewd about the way he unabashedly growls dirty words into your ears when you fuck, with his soft cheeks, sparkly eyes, and cute lips. It’s worse when his fluffy hair is half-covering his eyes, because he looks so cozy as he’s pounding into you so perfectly you can’t even form a train of thought. At the same time, whenever his pretty fingers roughly push his hair away from his face so he can fix you with a dark, predatory look as he hits that spot inside of you, you unravel for him without fail. 

There’s a method to the madness that is Yunho piecing you apart and molding you back together just to ruin you again. When you don’t respond, bashful gaze still trained on his lips, he coos. “All you have to do is tell me, baby, I’ll give it to you so good,” he coaxes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, but the way your voice trembles gives you away, and his lip curls up in triumph. 

He hums in response, cocky smirk still quirking his lip as he toys with a lock of your hair. “No?” he asks. “So if I took off these flimsy shorts of yours, you wouldn’t be dripping through your panties?” 

Suddenly, you’re aware of the way your thighs have been clenching around his forearm, and how you’re trapped between his sturdy chest and the plush cushions of the couch.

“Yunho,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” At your lack of a response, he coos, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of your lips but not quite on the plush flesh that’s practically tingling with the desire to be engulfed by Yunho’s. 

“I need it,” you breathe. “Need you,” And as badly as he wants to ravage your body with kisses until you’re moaning his name into his mouth, he’s transfixed by the image of your eyes welling with desperate tears, lips swollen from how you bite at them when you try to restrain your sounds and pleas for him to just give himself to you and to stop teasing already. Weak as he is to his desires of your flesh, he settles for pressing a sweet kiss to your collarbone and revels in the way your eyes flutter shut. 

“To do what, my love?” His voice is muffled by your skin as he litters it with more kisses. 

“Stop teasing me, please,” you whine pitifully, and you would have the strength to be embarrassed if it wasn’t for Yunho’s responding deep chuckle. His long fingers brush against your core, applying insistent, sweet pressure for a moment where its soaked the flimsy fabric of your shorts. He brings the glistening digits up to his mouth, pausing to admire the way your arousal clings to his fingers as he separates them. “Yunho,” you whisper, pleading with him to do something, anything to soothe the ache between your thighs. 

He sucks his fingers— coated in your desire— into his mouth, answering your desperate plea with a cocky smirk and a teasing hum around the fingers in his mouth. When your eyes well with tears, he takes pity on you, cooing and swiping at your cheeks with his clean hand. It’s his turn to be embarrassed from how hard your teary, pouting face makes him; he can’t bring himself to tease his angel any further when the only thing he can think about is having you cry on his cock. Yunho brings a thumb to your lips, parting them and kissing you so fervently it feels like he’s pulling the breath out of your lungs. 

You’re so lost in his lips that the gentle yet firm brush of Yunho’s knuckles against the seat of your shorts sends a delicious jolt of arousal up your spine, a cute squeak slipping out of your mouth and into his. You feel the way his lips quirk in amusement, a silent pledge to draw as many lewd noises from you as he can before the night is over. The circles he rubs against your clothed clit are anything but soothing, forcing you to break away from Yunho’s intoxicating kisses to catch your breath, face pressed against his chest while your hips buck against his hand.

“More, please,” you beg, hand sliding under his shirt to run your fingers along his soft skin. 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, but how can he deny his angel, especially when asked so sweetly? He finally makes direct contact with your drooling cunt, long fingers teasing your folds until one is eagerly sucked in by your walls. 

“So good,” you babble into his shirt, and the laugh that rips from his chest is mean, but so, so sexy. 

“Just like that, huh, baby?” he coos. When your answer is nothing but a pathetic whine of his name, he chuckles again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, sweetheart, I’ll give it to you just how you like it,” 

“Need you to fuck me, Yunho,” you gasp, fists clenching uselessly around his shirt while he scissors his fingers in you. You know he’s trying to stretch you out, make it easier for you to take him, but you don’t care at this point. Every moment without his warmth filling you up and fucking you full is driving you crazy. The sharp glint of his smirk at your words has your walls clenching frantically around his fingers, drawing a guttural groan from Yunho’s throat that he throws his head back for. 

You can’t even bite back the pitiful whine the sight pulls out of you— you want to bite his neck, to bury your face in him and drown in his ocean, never coming back up for air if it means you can be surrounded by him, engulfed by him. “Please Yun, I can’t take it,” you whimper, voice catching when his fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you that draws a litany of sounds and broken cries of his name as he takes advantage of it. 

“But you’re soaking my hand, love,” he teases, a cruel smirk taking over his features as your fingers scrabble to grab a hold of his wrist. His ministrations have your limbs tingling, grip weak as you try to halt his pleasing assault on your pussy. “So wet, just for me, hm?” 

“Yours,” you nod frantically, nails lightly scratching at his forearm as you moan at the stimulation. “Put it in, Yunho, please?” you break, too far gone, too lost in the pleasure he pushes on you to care about the indecency and lewdness of your words, not when he’s staring you down like this. Not with his fingers mercilessly teasing your g-spot, sadistically cooing at the staccato whimpers that escape your mouth despite how hard you’re trying to stay quiet. 

“I can’t hear you honey, what was that?” he chuckles, voice dropping a little deeper at the frustrated moan you let out at his tormenting. 

“Yunho,” you huff, indignant, but it comes out as a breathy purr when he crooks his fingers against that spot just right. His sharp, cocky grin tells you it was no accident— he plays your body like an instrument, toying with you to draw out those pretty sounds you make just for him. 

“You’re clinging onto my fingers so tightly, baby, I need a little motivation to get them out to put my cock in you,” he says, voice dripping with faux sadness as though he isn’t enjoying every second of your helplessness beneath him. 

“You’re the wo-rst, Yunnie,” you scowl, face warming with embarrassment at the eroticism of your voice. Even you can’t take yourself seriously with the obscene moans punctuating your every word. 

“Awww, you want Yunnie that bad, baby?” he mocks. “It’s too bad you won’t beg for it,” 

Your trembling fingers curl tighter around his wrist to no avail, his assault on your g-spot so pleasurably mind-numbing that you stumble over your words as you try to beg for his cock, unintelligible cries of his name slipping past your lips. “Please, Yun, need you so badly, need you to fuck me so bad,” you finally manage, head thrown back to escape his piercing stare and perverse smile. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be so good, please just give it to me,” 

“There’s my angel,” he groans. Your pleading eyes brimming with unshed tears makes him want to hold you against the plush cushions of the couch and draw orgasm after orgasm from you until those tears are spilling down your cheeks, pleasure-addled brain unable to focus on anything but whining his name and pawing at his shirt the way you so endearingly do when he fucks you dumb. But since you asked so sweetly, so good for him as always, Yunho pulls his fingers out (with a firm rub against your g-spot and your pliant walls on the way out for good measure) and presses a reverent kiss to your clit before shucking down pants. 

You’re practically salivating, hands wringing the hem of his shirt in anticipation after so cruelly being denied his cock for so long. ”So eager, love,” Yunho chuckles, the weight of dick resting deliciously against your pussy. 

“It’s not my fault you’re such a tease,” you snark. “You could have been inside me ages ago, you sadist,” 

“Yeah?” is his only response, but his tone is so dangerous— airy, but threatening, with some hidden promise beneath it that you’re morbidly curious to discover. 

“Yeah,” you answer, but it comes out softly and timidly at the shift in his demeanor. The smirk on his face that disappeared at your brattiness returns, a more sinful glint in his eye as he takes in just how pliant you are for him.

“So cute, puppy,” he grins. “Fuck around and find out, huh?” And find out you do as he slides in, the glide laughably easy from how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing. 

“Yunho,” you whimper, a silent plea in your wide eyes to go faster, to stop tormenting you and to just give you all of him until there’s nothing left. 

“You’re soaking, angel,” he observes, blatantly ignoring your unspoken request. Instead, his thumbs find your folds, gently spreading them apart to expose your throbbing clit. You’re almost embarrassed at how closely he’s inspecting you, but you’re too overwhelmed by the hunger in his eyes as he bites his lip at your arousal. He brings a thumb against your clit, applying delicious pressure that has your body jerking against his, sheathing his cock snugly within your walls. He laughs at the cute yelp you make when his pelvis finally connects with yours, pressing a little harder against your clit to hear you squeal and watch you shut your eyes tightly to escape the pleasure. 

He devours you in every sense— drinking in the sight of your trembling form trapped beneath him, savoring the erotic mewls and desperate moans you make for him as he feasts on the feeling of your hot skin beneath his fingers and trapping his cock. He has to fight the urge to gather you up in his arms and press you against him, chest to chest, face preferably buried in your neck or hair or lips smothering yours so he can be close to you in every sense of the word, but you look too lovely splayed against the couch cushions for him to manhandle you any further. 

“Feel good?” he asks softly, bringing his free hand up to your face to fondly brush away the hair obstructing his view of his angel. He’s checking in on you, making sure he isn’t being too rough, making sure you can still feel all the love behind his teasing. 

“So good, Yuyu,” you pant. “Please move, please fuck me,” As always, your wish is his command, so he complies, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in. Your moan is so obscene its practically pornographic, and coupled with the tight warmth of your walls sucking him in, Yunho has to throw his head back with a guttural groan to keep himself sane. You’re so fucking cute, calling him Yuyu with his cock buried within you, your pretty, teary eyes blinking up at him so sincerely as you ask him to fuck you. 

He’ll be damned if he doesn’t give his angel the world on a silver platter, so if it’s a good fuck you want it’s a good fuck you’ll get. With every thrust, you let out a breathy moan or a lascivious “please.” If he angles himself just right, you punch out a sweet keen of that nickname that he would find gut-wrenchingly cute under any other circumstances— but with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, brows drawn up and arms splayed limply above your head as you’re left helpless to the pleasure he fucks into you, Yunho would have to be some kind of deity not to lose his mind. For how pliant and weak he makes you, you return it twofold, leaving him powerless before your charm. 

You bring an arm down to your stomach, hand finding one of his to intertwine your fingers as he fucks you deep and calculated, thrusts perfectly orchestrated to have you falling apart on his cock. “Feels so good, Yuyu, I love you so much,” you whimper as your fingers slot into the gaps between his, and Yunho has to grip your hip with all the strength he has to stop himself from filling you up with his cum then and there. 

“I love you too, angel,” he praises, fighting to keep his voice level. “Always so fucking good for me,” 

Your moans begin to rise in pitch, broken little gasps and desperate whimpers of “Yuyu, just like that, please don’t stop,” that come to a peak as your back arches into a pretty crescent, hips bucking madly against his as you fall apart on his cock, cumming with a satisfied sob of his name. 

Yunho has many hobbies, some more productive than others, but his absolute favorite is watching you cum, treasuring the pretty expressions you make only for him and the debauched sounds he can pull out of you. It was good, he can tell from the way you’re panting and blinking slowly like you’re still coming down, but he doesn’t let up because you aren’t crying yet and he promised he would have you falling apart on him so good that you wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. 

You’re so cute, eyes widening in surprise as he fucks you through your orgasm. Yunho isn’t sure if he wants to show the whole world how his angel is the loveliest there could ever be, or if he wants to keep you all to himself, so sweet, all fucked out and pliant for him. 

That possessive beast you conjured in him always seems to win, though, and he shifts so he’s looming over you even more dangerously now, broad shoulders filling your view with nothing but Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. You’d never have it any other way though, mewling at the overstimulation, squirming beneath him and tugging uselessly at his shirt as he fucks you relentlessly. 

“Can you t-take this off, at least?” you whimper, and he heeds your request with a breathy chuckle, his pace inside you never faltering as he tears his hands away from your hips to pull his shirt off. He feels your walls flutter desperately around his cock at his exposed torso, pulling a more throaty laugh from his chest. 

“What a pervert,” he teases, licking his unfairly pretty bow-shaped lips as his palms find your hips once more. 

“Y-You’re such a hypocrite,” you punch out between soft little whines, an indignant squeak preceding your words. 

“Mmm, never said I wasn’t a pervert, my love,” Yunho grins, pinching your hip and grinning wider at the way you squirm. “I’m a proud pervert when it comes to you, but you’re just as bad, aren’t you, angel?”

You want to retort, cheeks warm with humiliation, but you can’t form the words or the thought when Yunho’s penetrating you so perfectly. You’re only able to manage a feeble moan, which draws another mean-spirited laugh from Yunho and the rewarding pressure of his thumb against your clit once more. He finally stops teasing you with his words only for his mouth to latch onto one of your nipples, the hand that’s not busy at your clit making its way up to your other nipple to toy with it until you’re jerking against his body, helpless to his desires as his chest secures you against the cushions. 

Yunho has the gall to laugh against your skin when he bites the pillowy flesh around your nipple, resulting in a cute yelp from you that has him hardening impossibly further within you. The assault on all your sweet spots has you clenching uselessly around him, walls hugging him so tight he can’t tell if you’re trying to push him out or suck him in deeper, if that was even possible. Your thighs are twitching uncontrollably around his hips, fingers scrabbling against his back, seeking purchase in the soft skin and hard muscles contracting under your fingertips from how powerfully he’s thrusting into you. 

You’re almost there, he can tell from the litany of pitiful whines and maddeningly sexy pleas of his name spilling from your lips, but he needs to give you just a little more to have you coming undone for him the way he wants, to give you pleasure so good it leaves you floating for the rest of the evening; so he painstakingly pulls his hand away from your (now swollen from his attention) nipple to press his palm flat against your stomach, applying just the right amount of force to have you gasping and digging your nails into his skin. It hurts so good, his eyes roll back into his head, but he has to keep himself under control at least until he draws that orgasm from you that he knows you’re craving. 

Your eyes find his, and those unshed tears that have been driving him crazy finally fall past your lashes, spilling down your cheeks as you moan his name. You’re so perfect, in every sense of the word, squirting all over his cock as he fills you up. “That’s it, my love,” he praises you, voice deep and strained as he cums for you, “So good for me,” 

“I love you, Yuyu,” you mumble as he pulls out, slowly and cautiously because he knows you’re probably sensitive from all his teasing from earlier. The painstakingly slow drag of his cock against your walls has you twitching against his hips, though— you can feel every ridge and every vein this way and you’re starting to think that Yunho probably had a point when he called you a pervert earlier. If you are a pervert, it’s only for him. 

“I love you too, angel,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your thighs twitch as he soothingly cleans them with a warm, damp towel, carefully brushing your hair away from your face and rubbing comforting circles into your hip with his free hand. “It was okay, baby?” he asks, movements faltering slightly as he looks up at you from between your thighs with those sparkling puppy-like eyes that got you into this predicament in the first place. 

“It was perfect, Yun,” you say sincerely. “You felt so good that I couldn’t really… control myself,” you mumble, trailing off out of embarrassment. You have to avert your eyes for your own sanity when that puppy face splits into a teasing grin, his canines back on display. 

“Hmm, I can tell,” he chuckles, leaning up towards your face to warmly kiss away the few tears still adorning your cheeks. 

“Yunho,” you whine, indignant. “You asked me just to tease,” 

“Nooooo, baby,” he laughs. “It’s not my fault you’re so cute when you get like this,” 

You can’t really retort, not when he’s giggling like that, what with his pretty smile and soft cheeks. 

“If my angel has any other dirty little secrets to share, I think we could have a lot of fun with it, don’t you?” he lilts, taunting you by sliding his long fingers through your hair to rest firmly at your scalp. Not tugging, not yet, but the possibility lingers, kicking up your heartbeat again. 

“You’re the one hiding all these kinky secrets,” you counter, pouting. “I know you took that pair of lacy panties I asked you about the other week, you pervert, so who’s the real false angel?” 

Yunho just laughs, again, a throaty chuckle rumbling in his chest that would have your thighs clenching to alleviate the jolt of arousal shocking your core if he wasn’t settled between your legs. “You have a point, love,” he acquiesces, and shoots you a wink that already has you needy for him to draw yet another orgasm from you. You’ll save this information for next time, though— you have a lifetime to explore Yunho and a lifetime to fall deeper in love with every new inch he reveals. 

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.