#teeny tint

[bibleofficial]

today has been so good i saw so many people like i got a walk-in done for this parlours walk-in day & she was so sweet & fun & she was the 1 i was WANTING to get done by !! THEN i went back home after running errands & FIRST i saw my neighbour that lives in the flat below me, Li, then KP was walking to Tesco & saw me so he popped over! & then TASKIN who lives in the building across from me walked back from getting a haircut & was chatting w him before he & i met this random floridian girl that lives in taskin’s building 😭😭😭 she’s so fucking funny omg i don’t even remember her name but she literally hate crimed me by saying i look like im from colorado

[maretriarch]

Just in time for 4/13 here's the second line of my r63 dolls, this time CREEPover themed with bonus accessories! in an ideal world they would come in adorable recuperacoon shaped packaging. and probably a sopor slime making kit because kids love slime. which one are YOU picking up from your local Goreget today?

[recallback-art]

This was a commission for my buddy @cheeseofthecake of her OC Aurora, replicating a scene from one of her fics!

I've never drawn Sonic characters before, so it was a very interesting challenge to sit down and figure out the general shapes.

[cakegatedisaster]

HOW TALL ARE YOU IM NOT ITTY BITTY

Bestie I'm like 5'7, 5'10 in heels

[hoseoksluna]

LITTLE JUICE | JJK

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut, pwp

rating: 18+

summary: when you get insecure about being constantly needy for your boyfriend, jungkook shows you that it's okay.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: the plot is TEENY TINYYYY in this one, pure filth, mirror sex, dd/lg, little space, new roles for the wine universe omg, jungkook is a caretaker, pet names, degradation kink, praise kink, dry humping, they're so in love it's sickening, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering, squirting, daddy issues, heavy dom/sub dynamics, handjob, penetrative sex without condom, cowgirl, plushies used in a sexual situation.

luna's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out for you on xmas day since i was so sick, but let this be a gift for the new year! i missed writing smut sooooo much, and i can't wait to get back to it starting january. this was so fun omg. i missed wine sm. my daddy issues be daddy issuing so this has something new in it, i'm super excited abt it!! i hope you like this and that you enjoy reading. make sure to let me know what you think in my ask box!! mommy luna is baaaaackkkkkkk. HAPPY NEW YEARRRRR. <3 (one day early but i felt like saying it idc) BIG MWAH.

luna's necessary side note: i missed u all so damn much wtf. OH, AND HAPPY BDAY TAEHYUNGGGGGG.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

The mirrors, lining the walls, are nearly all fogged up once you take a step inside the vast rehearsal room. A certain mellow, yet familiar song led you towards the right door—one that made your ears perk up in curiosity because it reminded you of something you’d heard a long time ago, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not until you rearranged your bobas into the crook of your elbow and slid open the door. 

The stuffiness of the room only added to the sensual aura of the song, and your legs nearly gave out on you. 

No BS by Chris Brown.

The song that started it all.

Jungkook, clothed in black from head to toe, seems to be locked in his own world as he moves his body in the center of the room, his chest and feet hitting each beat without a singular mistake or a misstep. And when the chorus of the song flows in, his whole figure follows suit. It rolls into the rhythm like the slowest, most passionate wave of the sea that splits in the middle and begins to course down your sternum. Your cheeks darken with a feverish tint. You feel every inch of his movements inside you as if he were there, and when Jungkook spins and sinks to his knees, propping only one Nike-shod foot on the floor, and he hip-thrusts before he continues those rippling motions to the last beats, the muscles of your thighs quiver on reflex and your dampened private parts flutter.

You did not expect to see that when you texted Jungkook you were going to visit him just because you finished work early and you could get boba before your favorite shop closed. You feel as though you just got blessed twice. 

TGIF, indeed. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d celebrate the work week ending like you are right now—with two bobas in your arm, cooling your heated skin, and with your eyes witnessing erotically angelic artistry in a humid room. And with your sensitive parts outright dripping, too, because the song ends, enveloping the room in a silence that welcomes in Jungkook’s heavy breathing as he slumps back onto his back, his chest lifting and falling in the air. 

You feel fuzzily faint. He made you wet in record time and he hasn’t even touched you. Nor has he looked at you. 

Instinctively, your hand grasps your mango boba and you press it against the side of your face. Smile to yourself as a lightbulb flicks to life in your mind. 

Leaving behind your purse, you take both of the delightful treats and walk over to him. His eyes are closed as he’s absolutely unaware of your presence, your steps soft and sly. His round, sweat-splotched nose puffs out hard breaths that move through you and you coo to yourself silently before you place both of your feet on either side of him. You squat down, careful not to let your bum touch his lap, and you get his boba ready, placing your own on the ground. And with the loudest roar you can muster, you press the drink to his glistening cheek. 

He yelps. His fear-filled eyes fly open, his hands quick to catch you as you tumble down on him in reaction, your lungs submerging the room in your obscenely loud giggles. Tears of laughter cloud your vision, preventing you from seeing the horror twisting his face, but the little you saw was enough to douse your body in extraordinary elation. The tapioca inside the long cup swirls as it swims ferociously in the thick, violet liquid, mimicking the roundness and the blackness of his pupils with utmost perfection. 

You swipe a finger under your eye, speckles of your glitter smearing its pad. You lean down, your laughter subdued as it slowly fades out, and you can see the horror smoothing out and transforming, seamlessly, into a relieved adoration that taps against your heart. You kiss him with the boba now cooling your cheek as well. Leave behind a hard peck on his perspiration-coated mouth that makes him softly hum into this physical exchange of love, and just before you draw away, he breathes out against you with his nose. And that doesn’t just tap on your heart, it knocks on it most warmly. 

You love him so much. Too much. So much that the simplest of his body and human reactions make you feel things. Things that normal girls don’t normally feel. 

Good thing you’re not a normal girl. 

You’re a messed up girl. And you’re a girl in love. Have been for the past year. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” 

Your mouth widens into a pleased grin, and the light bulb that shone in a bright yellow melts into a warm, dusky pink tinge that floods your spine—only because he squeezes the dip of your waist that you’ve been working hard at carving out. A new thing you’ve implemented into your daily routine after you’ve gotten a new job that doesn’t allow you to fuck him all day long like you used to. The sex has gotten even better with time as the wine of his love ripened and matured. To such an extent that you found yourself craving it more than you had in those times when you were just seeing him for sex. Two rounds aren’t enough for you—and you remember well that after two rounds you were usually too exhausted to even keep your eyes open. Now, because you have matured too, your vessel for his love and his liquid stars has grown, needing more to feel satisfied to the fullest. The new job kept you away from him, the long hours teased you. So much that your bathroom breaks were too frequent and obvious and you spent them locked in a bathroom stall with one hand in your panties and your other holding your phone to your ear while Jungkook guided you, his hand, too, in his pants, locked in the same place on the other side of the line, whispering encouraging, lewd instructions that sent you shaking over the edge in mere minutes. 

Instructions that got him in trouble at his workplace, hence why he had to come up with a solution. Because your thirst was never quenched in minutes. His voice was too pretty, and too soft. 

Gym five times a week for you, dance lessons for him, physical distance for the both of you. A perfect solution for a perfect problem. All that sexual frustration was released during those exercises filled with delicious pain and you went to work the next day free of that carnal lust swishing in your veins. You focused on your work, and you didn’t have to take long bathroom breaks. You didn’t even need a spare pair of panties in your purse anymore.

It worked—and it’s completely crazy to you that all it took for you to break your public purity streak was seeing him dance like that. 

You sit up and with your swift movement, the squelching sound of your cunt rubbing up against your juices sounds out across the room. Your cheeks heat up with a different shade of red as embarrassment runs down your spine, especially as Jungkook’s brows twitch upwards and his eyes widen, his large hands lowering down a little, following the curve of your figure that leads to his favorite part of you. 

Your hips. 

A blush scatters upon his cheeks, too. He heard it. 

He calls out your name, sweeping his tongue across his abruptly dry and chapped bottom lip. Your name, not princess, not baby. Your government name without any embellishment of adoration. 

You’re in trouble. 

Your embarrassment pinches you at the two dimples on the small of your back. “Y-yeah?” 

Jungkook opens his mouth, but he pauses for a moment. As if he could sense where the emotion touched you, his long and warm fingers find its icy traces that it left behind while still keeping the crooks of his thumb anchored on your hip bones. 

“Did you get wet for me?” 

A shiver cascades down the slender column of your back, a visible one for his eyes to see that coax out his softness for you, evident in the roundness of his bottom lip that he juts out, triggering your unprecedented shyness. What a drastic shift of dynamic in your relationship you perceive this to be. All along, for a year long, the atmosphere of your shared love has been nothing but an environment of safety, where you could unfold your sexuality as naturally and confidently as you wanted to without an ounce of coyness. Introduce an unyielding desire and a well-meaning solution for it into the equation and watch the change bloom. 

For some reason, you’re reminded of his past, now distant, liking of a certain degradation kink that once grew like vines across your intimate relations with him. The memories travel along your veins—the vulgar pet names, the calling out, the rough handling—and crest at your core, moistening the center of your panties even more as your walls pull in. And the way Jungkook takes that bottom lip between his teeth divulges to you quite clearly that he feels it. 

Which is a bad thing because you can’t lie about it. 

But… you can’t divert his attention from it. 

You slosh his drink in your hand. “I got you your favorite,” you chirp, the boba twirling beneath your hand while his identical pupils remain unmoving, unblinking, fixed on you. You manage a smile, but its staticness crumbles as soon as you realize that Jungkook isn’t really influenced by your change of topic. “Taro boba. I got a milk one, too. Mango. You wan—”

His hands descend down to your thighs, squeezing, halting the tide of your words, the progression of your trick. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and before you know it, he lifts you just a little bit to maneuver you and make you sit on the shaft of his semi. A low gasp gushes out of your throat as well as a leak of your dew not only onto the fabric of your underwear but onto the material that now clings to his manhood. 

He twitches, hardening beneath your pussy, and gooseflesh pricks your skin. 

“Mango? You always get Taro with me.” 

The glitter from your eye make-up that you smeared across his cheek during your kiss twinkles underneath the dimmed light and he doesn’t guide your hips to move against him. No, he rolls his own—ever so slowly, ever so discreetly. His hands merely hold you down, but nothing about it is forceful. Subdued pleasure springs up your sternum, pooling in your head, making you woozy as quickly as if he were pouring booze down your throat. And when he heightens the pressure enough that he twitches again, you recognize he’s doing the same move that is a part of the choreo he was practicing. 

Your heart hammers against your chest. Your nipples pebble against your cotton top, and Jungkook’s eyes fly to them, catching and taking in their aroused state, perhaps even coaxing it out of them. 

A sigh leaves his mouth. He fists the hem of your skirt, dipping his head into the current of the pleasure he’s giving both of you, and so do you. 

You just can’t help it; you can’t fight it. When your toe touches the surface of the wine of your shared love, nothing can keep you from taking a dip. And the same applies to Jungkook, too. In this case, he’s dripping in red, having slipped entirely into the current, one arm out of the water, fingers wrapped around your ankle, pulling you into the water. 

And something about his desire lessens your strange coyness. His lack of solution offering brings down the stigma, setting you free. And you missed him. You missed him terribly. Haven’t felt his dick in five fucking days. 

You place your hands on top of his. 

A small fire begins to burn within the snug blackness of his eyes. All of a sudden, the noises he stifled come out in soft, almost inaudible growls that cause your clit to throb and your nails to dig half-moons into the skin of his hands. A green light from you for him to enjoy this—and he does. Jungkook throws his head back, his pretty chin pointing to the ceiling, and his big chest heaves. 

It is only at this moment that his eyes leave yours just to bask in this forbidden pleasure. 

Anyone could walk in—the doors aren’t locked, nor are they shut at all. Anyone could think the practice room is available for personal use, without a single soul present. And anyone could see you riding the horsey because the sight of him lost in the vivacity of it all forces you most carnally to give him more. 

You hump him. 

“My friend got it the other day and she said it was delicious,” you breathe out, speaking of your unordinary choice of boba. The movements of your hips are small, minuscule, but hard enough that his knuckles get painted with a shade of ivory that sprinkle your chest with little shocks of joy and pride. A thick vein bulges on the side of his throat as Jungkook tries his best not to let out the entirety of his noises that his body is brimming with—and for that very reason, you grab his hands and place them very brattily on your perked, full breasts. “I wanted to try it and see for myself.” 

This feels good. This feels like the time before you got older and greedy. And the feeling is validated when Jungkook whisks his eyes back at you and grapples your tits, squeezing them so hard that it’s you who bites their bottom lip until you nearly draw blood, your body set on fire with a blue desire that kisses his big hands with such roughness that he whimpers. 

But the moment is ruined all too soon. 

A myriad of high-pitched voices is carried through the thick air, accompanied by giggles. You gasp, looking behind you, and before you know it, you’re up on your feet and Jungkook’s unopened boba is knocked to the side, now rolling sideways towards the mirror. 

You go to fetch it, but a strong hand on your arm prevents you from doing so. You spring back to your place in front of him and you glance up at him in confusion just to see him frowning down at you. 

Sweat drips down his temple. The tips of his brows almost meet in the middle, but swim away and relax at the sight of your puzzlement. The voices grow louder, your breath hitches in your throat and Jungkook’s hand lifts and pets down the back of your head, awakening the butterflies in your tummy as if he’s done it for the first time in your life. 

A yearning to kiss him consumes you. 

“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs, keeping his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. “If they see us like this, they’ll walk away.” 

You nod, understanding if you were to do as you wished, the girls would’ve taken it as a sign to enter the room and perhaps mingle. But if they see you stuck in an intimate moment like this, they quietly and quickly leave without any unnecessary fuss. 

Smart man. 

“I’m also so fucking hard that I can’t even hide it,” he continues, lowering his tone even more. It penetrates you, making your clit thrum, and as your grin blossoms, so does a romantic shade of blush across your cheeks. You envelop your arms around his torso, propping your chin on his chest, radiate your love up to him, and Jungkook smiles down at you. “As per usual.” 

He kisses your forehead, lingering there for a beat longer before he lifts his head and focuses his gaze at the situation at the door. You don’t care much because you dwell on the hot and cold sensation he left in his wake from the warmth of his mouth and the iciness of his lip ring—something you’ll never get used to and something that will always ruin your panties. 

“They’re gone.” 

And so is he. Off to shut the door and lock it, peeking through the little rectangular window to check if anyone is around. Once the coast is clear, you sense him behind you as you bend to pick up his knocked off boba and you stumble upon his gaze in the mirror as soon as you straighten your spine. 

A hungry look is wrung into his features. 

The corners of his eyes droop in arousal, narrowed as they are. His pupils are blacker than the tapioca in your hands. His teeth nibble on his bottom lip impatiently and you flutter all over, taking in his state and his large stature towering above you. You could melt into him and never be found again, hidden in the crevices of his body that you still believe are there for you. Hidden forever, safe and sound. 

He’s delicious through and through—and it’s been five days since you last had a taste of him. 

Five torturous days. 

“You must be thirsty after all that dancing,” you say, breathless and thirsty yourself. His chest heaves, colliding into your back, and all those soft crevices of him touching you brings you back into that ravenous, greedy state you can’t get out of so easily. Dangerous, he is. Utterly, utterly dangerous. Erasing your clean streak like that. “Let me open it for you.” 

You go to turn around and fetch his straw from your purse, but he doesn’t let you. He encages you where you are by a mere placement of his hand on your hip, fingers back to gripping the fabric of your skirt. He can rip it off if he likes—he can buy you a new one and make your heart elated anytime. 

The idea hardens your nipples, making a show for him all over again. 

He pushes you flush against him, earning a sultry gasp from you. The fingers that gripped your skirt elongate across your mound while the other graze your chin, elevating it a little, ensuring a strong eye contact. 

You flutter. Can’t take it anymore. He has to take you home and fuck the shit out of you before you— 

“I am thirsty,” he purrs, his lips borderline touching yours. “But for something other than bubble tea. Care to guess what it is?” 

Your breath lodges in your throat. You know well what he means, but out of habit and out of personal pleasure you pretend to be dumb. You want to hear him say it—you want him to be as detailed as he was during those naughty afternoon phone calls that got him in trouble with his boss, who told him off for having long work breaks. You want him, his filthy mouth and even filthier, condescending manners. 

You want the old times—and for the sake of your desire, you remain silent. Twist your brows in feigned confusion. Widen your eyes a little. Puff out your cheeks. 

Your adorableness makes him twitch against your hip. Jungkook sucks in a breath. Takes the hand that caressed your chin and glides it down your neck, your chest, your stomach that flexes under his touch until he winds up at the waistband of your skirt. There he stops and he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his tongue along the pillow of his bottom lip. 

“What I want,” he starts, his breathing quickening. “Is the little juice that is in here.” He skims the pads of his fingers down your mound, beneath the hem of your skirt and along the sopping surface of your clothed feminine flesh. You mewl, your hips instinctively riding his fingers, following the sailing, back and forth motion. Your adorableness deepens with the influence of the sudden pleasure by the way it scrunches up your features and Jungkook whimpers again, stopping his motions when he feels you timidly soak his fingers. “I want it so bad that I can’t go one more minute without it.” 

You glance down more to see how big of a mess you’re making on his hand, but as attuned as he is to his role, brought about by his arousal, Jungkook takes your breath away with his following actions. 

He moves you closer to the mirror. Bunches up your skirt even higher so you have a perfect view of your panties, which have a large wet spot in the middle. Little rivulets of your juices flow out of their confines and down your inner thighs, proceeding to make a puddle on the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Jungkook’s fingers are shiny in the light, coated in your lustfulness, and he drifts them up and down that stain—over your swollen clit and sensitive lips. 

“See? Here. This little wet princess part of you is what I crave.”

And just like that, owing to his words, you flourish into the little girl you haven’t been safely dwelling in for months, sliding into that role as easily, tenderly and meekly as if you were slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers. You regress, beautifully, making sweet little noises into his neck as you go to hide in there, poking his drink into his hand, silently telling him to take it while you rub your sticky thighs together, eager to get the uncomfortable throbbing feeling away. And he does, solid in his own caretaker role, sinking down onto his knees, placing the drink on the floor against the mirror. But he remains there, looking up at you, eyes big and round, yet still steady, sure, mature and irrevocably dependable. And you sense those eyes to be telling you to take your panties off and give the Daddy what he craves. 

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and drag it down past the middle of your thighs, letting him handle the rest, but you catch his eyes watering ever so gently—and the discovery causes your heart to skip a beat. He’s taken in the role you’ve slipped into, having watched it happen in real time in all its glory, and perhaps he’s nostalgic, or perhaps he’s just euphoric, but he takes the time to bask in it all. 

And he kisses the cotton fabric of your panties first before he kisses the soft flesh of your thigh. Drags it down. Lets it pool in his hands at your ankles. Peeks up at you. 

“The way you willingly give yourself over to me never fails to mesmerize me,” he purrs, pressing another kiss to your thigh without taking his eyes off of you. Your stomach jumps, energy-charged butterflies scurrying to the front of your stomach in longing to kiss him, too. “You’ve been feeling bad about being needy for me. Worked hard for weeks to be a good girl, but what you don’t know, princess, is that you were a good girl even when you called me up at work asking for me,” he continues, lips brushing against your skin with every pronounced vowel. He edges around your knee and begins to pepper gentle, wet kisses there. Your mouth falls open—and you discover this place is a spot of more sensitivity than your neck. You double over, grabbing a tight hold of his tousled, yet soft hair, and Jungkook moans against you. “And you’re a good girl right now for giving yourself over to me, even when you’re so careful about being horny for me in public.” 

Your body forces out the same kind of noises, so tender and pained, your heart rapidly kicking against your ribcage. Your arousal is heightened by his words carrying such devastating praise, even when the most inert core of you aches for such different debauchery—the very opposite of what he’s giving you. 

You leak for him, nonetheless. 

Unable to take it anymore, Jungkook cradles your ankles and carefully rids you of your ruined panties, half-stuffing them into the front pocket of his jeans. A tiny bit of the pink fabric sticks out of it and the sight intoxicates you, pulling you deeper into your little space. Even more so when he finishes his praise because he wasn’t done yet. Not quite. 

“And to see you be little for me so prettily again after such a long time,” he husks, spreading your legs far apart enough to see that gleaming rivulet make its way down the inner of your thigh. “That makes me the happiest man in the world, princess. I missed you. God, I missed you.” 

Jungkook leans in and, with his tongue flat against your inner thigh, he collects the little juice you leak for him. He moans at the taste, but the sound is broken by a cry marked by yearning for more. He doesn’t stop there—he delves immediately, without sparing a second, into your lap with such a verve that your back crashes against the still fogged up mirror. His mouth seizes your clit, making kissing sounds as he laps and sucks at it with a hunger that could never be replicated in the arts. You grip his hair tighter for support, almost sliding down the mirror while struggling to contain your noises, the pleasure permeating every inch of your body that is ultimately submitted to him. The pressure of the delight he’s giving you deepens when he places one of your thighs on his shoulder, helping you take it while he continues to moan into your pussy and eat her like she deserves. 

But you can’t take it. Not at all. Not when he begins to flick his tongue on your clit in a way that he does. 

Your foot slips, but Jungkook is in control. He makes sure you land on your bum safely and painlessly, not once ripping his mouth off your cunt. His eyes continue to be steady, fixed on you, narrowed into such thin, alluring slits that it hastens your sweet release. You hiccup as you take little breaths, overwhelmed by it all. Your cheeks burn, and the fire spreads down your limbs, leaping over to your boyfriend at work, who glows with a rosy tint. Jungkook pulls away a little bit, dripping in arousal and perspiration, and he allows you to see his technique in all its glory. 

The tip of his tongue stimulates your engorged clit with rapid, hard flicks. 

Your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jungkook pushes your legs all the way back until you’re a squished mochi that he can’t get enough of, and when he puts a bigger pressure on your little bud, it is your absolute undoing. 

Closer and closer, the orgasm takes over you completely. From the top of your head to your little toes that flex in your sneakers, you begin to shake uncontrollably as the highest level of the delight bursts upon your body. Jungkook’s noises grow in volume simultaneously, enraptured as he is by the view of his created paradise unfolding over you—and he never stops looking at you. 

Not even as you come down from your high. 

Not even as he, with your little juice dripping down his chin, turns you around and stacks one of your feet on the mirror while he keeps the other leg back with his hand. His limbs surround you, and as you blink through the blinding fog of your orgasm, you realize that you accidentally managed to match your shoes with his. High Nike dunks, black. The ones he got for you as well when he bought a pair for himself. 

Your hole clenches in the mirror. A stream of your little juice makes a larger puddle on the floor beneath you. 

“Look at you dripping for me, fuck.” 

Hooking your leg over his right limb, he strums your entire feminine flesh with the four of his fingers, the squelching and squeaking sounds of your pussy pulling a tortured groan out of him as if he hadn’t gotten a taste of you a mere minute ago. His other hand sneaks to your tits to feel them up, stopping at your pebbled nipple, which he fondles as he breathes against you, inhaling your scent. Your hips buckle, your drenched seashell sensitive from his feast, and Jungkook lets out a pleased chuckle. 

“My pretty little pussy. Always so sensitive from all my love, huh?” 

You nod, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and Jungkook grins before he places a fat, rewarding kiss to your cheek, the two of his fingers, middle and ring, one of them adorned with that white Miffy plastic ring, starting a series of circles on your clit. 

Your hips buckle again, the pleasure soft yet dizzying, overwhelming your senses. Jungkook tightens his grip around you, squeezing your breast. 

“Whose pussy is this, princess?” 

In the middle of it all, a light bulb flicks to life once again in your woozy mind. And a pleased smile, just like his, begins to grow on your mouth. But Jungkook is impatient and you’re not responding fast enough for his taste, so he lifts his soaked fingers and uses them to grip your mouth. 

There it is. 

“I asked you a question. Whose pussy is this?” 

You’d bite your lip if he weren’t squishing your cheeks together, but your satisfied smile reaches your eyes, crinkling them. That causes him to relax his hold and give you a chance to give him the answer he seeks. 

Little does he know you’re about to manipulate him into giving you the sin that you desire. 

“This slutty little pussy is yours. Yours and no one else’s, Dada.” 

His brows twitch and light unrolls across his face, softening his features in a way you’ve never seen before. He curses, momentarily rolls his eyes back, and he plunges his wet fingers into his mouth before he seizes your mouth in a compulsive kiss that thoroughly shuts off your brain. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you comprehend he licked off his fingers and didn’t swallow only so you could get the treat he had himself—because he busies his fingers by burying them inside your fleshy heat. 

And he fucks you hard and doesn’t stop even when you begin to make intense little noises into his mouth. 

You struggle to kiss him back when he curls his fingers and pistons into you with rapid jerks from this angle. His other hand tugs your top upwards, finds its way into the cups of your bra just so he could pinch and rub your nipple in the way that you like. And when his tongue flicks against yours and his mouth purses softly against yours before he deepens the kiss, your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly that you’re as surprised as him once you come apart all over not just his hand, but the mirror, too. 

You splatter it with your little juice and even then, Jungkook doesn’t stop. Growling with heavy breaths, he strums your clit as fast as he can until there’s nothing left you can give to him. 

You slump against him, high on the complexity of yours and his aphrodisiac love. Specks of your glitter—your small shooting stars gravitate down to your flushed cheeks, and then his fingers are in your mouth, traveling far down and deep until you grace him with the sound he likes. You gag around them and he nods, pleased, smirking. 

“Good girl. Your slutty little juice tastes good, doesn’t it, baby?” he asks, and your stomach springs, your drunken feelings intensified by the fact you finally got what you yearned for. “Your mouth makes me fucking crazy. Dada, slutty pussy. I’m gonna lose my mind.” 

You mewl, your eyes heavy, but you want more—you want his cock, and he can feel it, he knows it. He knows it when he pulls out his fingers and kisses you as if the world was meant to end in the next minute. He knows it because he withdraws and he tells you. 

“Dada’s gonna fuck that slutty little pussy of his, hm?” Jungkook murmurs, and then his zipper is down, and just like the old times—he doesn’t rid himself of his clothes and gives you a brand new world with his strokes just the way he is. 

Fully clothed, with his hard drooling cock poking out of his unzipped jeans. 

He presses you against your wet juices on the mirror, spitting on his hand and lubricating the tip of his manhood. He enters you and you gasp, fogging up the mirror with your breath, and the hand that holds your head steady against the mirror buries into your hair while the other wraps around your hip. He sheathes himself inside you slowly whilst your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally being stretched out by him and once he bottoms out, it’s over. 

Your life is over.

“Dada’s pussy always so tight.” 

He pounds into you religiously—creating a new order for this brand new world. Hard, merciless strokes that scramble your brain and turn it into a mush. Your ass ripples with each collision and his noises melt into yours, a hymn for the utopia he’s fucking you into. And then he’s lifting you from the mirror and keeping you flush to himself, staring at you in the reflection while your tits spill out from your bra, bouncing, and Jungkook can’t get enough. Both of his hands drag down your straps, freeing your breasts, and he’s groping them, pinching your nipples without ever stopping the entrancing snapping of his hips. 

“Pretty princess getting fucked. Look at you. So pretty and all mine.” 

And then his Miffy-adorned finger is back on your clit, rubbing hard circles, and your personal world is finished—because your pleasure is his ultimate undoing. 

The smacking of skin quietens and his hips begin to roll—a languid, staccato version of his choreo that got you all needy and wet but an hour ago. Jungkook whimpers into your ear how much he loves you, over and over again, as he stuffs you full of his cum, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your swollen little clit until you come all over his twitching cock. 

And he doesn’t pull away. 

He holds you like this, panting into your neck, his grip still tight, still evoking a sense of safety you won’t find anywhere else. Your drowsy eyelids flit, consider yourself well-spent, and the thought begins to sing a celebratory song in your chest—because all that hard work paid off. 

You’re no longer greedy; you’re gratified after the first round. 

Jungkook kisses the nape of your neck. “We should go before Bunny and Vinny start wondering where we are.” 

The song wraps around your heart, which dissolves at his words. Jungkook pulls himself out of you, but you swivel around and throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. His still erect and wet length brushes against your thigh—and the contact makes you quiver in his arms.

“I feel good,” you explain into his ear. “I don’t need more.” 

Jungkook chuckles. Wants to look at your face and he smooths your hair back, grinning at you. “I’m proud of you, princess, but look,” he says, glancing down. You follow his gaze down and perceive he’s talking about his private parts. “I’m still hard.” 

His cock twitches at his words and twitches once more at the sound of your giggles—happy, happy giggles because the stigma behind your neediness withers and completely disappears, never to be found again, only because Jungkook isn’t embarrassed or afraid to show you he needs more. Your chest becomes light, light enough that you think you grew a pair of wings to fly around the room with.

“Gym, Gguk. You have to hit the gym more often,” you joke, knowing his work out schedule transcends beyond the five days you spend at the place. 

The corner of his mouth curls as mischief twinkles in his eyes, divulging to you that he likes the way you challenge him. 

“Oh yeah?” he questions, lifting his arm, pulling back the oversized sleeve of his T-shirt to flex his biceps. Your cheeks heat up at the strong mountains that appear and your hand can’t help but to knead it. “These aren’t big enough for you, huh?” 

You scoff and shush him at the same time, leaning over to plant a singular kiss to his muscles. Jungkook uses the opportunity to hide you in his embrace and you both sputter into laughs and giggles. He pecks your hair, but something interrupts your sweet moment. 

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, pointing at the mirror, and you gasp when you turn around. 

An imprint of the side of your face is left behind on the reflection. Foundation, mascara and glitter amidst the little pearls and rivulets of your juices. You worry what you look like now if your make-up is smeared to this extent, but it soon is washed away from your mind when Jungkook crawls forward and makes a heart on the wetness of your slick. 

He takes a picture of it and then he cleans it off with his gym towel. The floor, too. 

At home, you fuck him hard for it. 

With his Taro boba in his arm, Vinny on his chest and Bunny in the crook of his other arm, you ride him until your thighs burn and he resembles the prettiest rose you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Having come more than enough on his cock, you jerk him off while you flick your tongue on his tip, and he moans, flushes and convulses until he spills all over your hand and his stomach. Ropes of him cum reach the plushies, too, as he can���t stop coming and, growing feignedly jealous, you swallow him, longing for him to drip down your throat. 

He comes so much that your belly is full and he’s as gratified as you were in the practice room. 

And after a quick shower, you both drift off to your brand new world unexpectedly, the events of the day having exhausted you enough that you fall asleep within the next heartbeat. Vinny and Bunny tumble on in the washing machine while you and Jungkook dance in the new paradise, having stepped into the role of parents having a date without the kids. No stress, no stigma—just the freedom of being loved right. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist

[thebearer]

Ugh I love your writing 🫶🫶 could you do something where the reader and Carmen have that asshole to everyone but his partner trope 🫶like the staff see how he acts around the reader when they drop by to see him during his lunch break and they’re in shock ?

yes yes yes!! I feel like that's such a good trope for him!!

"Guys, what did I tell you? House keeping, please, fuck!" Carmen yelled, running a frustrated hand through his hair, a chorus of "yes, chef!" following him.

"Hey, Carmy," Neil puffed, carrying the ladder towards the bathroom. "Your girl's in your office."

Carmen's eyes lit up, frustration dissipated at the sound that you were here, waiting for him- surprised him. "Thanks, Neil." Carmen grumbled, non-slip shoes padding across the floor, rounding the corner with an announcement, slipping into the office.

There you were, sitting in the chair, legs propped up on his desk, lazily flicking through recipes. "Hey," Carmen greeted, lips curling when he shut the door behind him. "What're you doin' here? I didn't know you were stopping by."

You spun towards him, feet clomping on the ground at the movement, a tiny smirk on your lips. "Came to see you." You hummed. "Thought I'd take up your offer tonight and come have family with you."

"Yeah?" Carmen's eyes lit up, bright and excited- still a little bashful, even after all the time you'd been together. "That's nice, real nice. I'm glad you came, baby."

You giggled, flinging the recipes on the desk, hands cupping either side of his head to pull him closer when he ducked down for a kiss. Your lips slotted over his, hands sliding through his hair to push him further into you. Carmen laughed into the kiss, hands reaching for your jaw, tilting your head up towards him.

"Stand up," Carmen muttered, lips moving against yours.

You obliged, switching places with him so he was in the chair, you straddling his waist. Your arms looped around his neck, his on your back, the other cradling your ass, sliding and squeezing over the fatty flesh there.

"Hey, cousin, time for fami- oh!" Richie recoiled, slamming the door just as quickly as he opened it. "Oh, for fuckssake, lock the door if you're gonna be nasty! Christ!"

"How about you knock!" Carmen shouted back, cheeks tinging with the red tint of embarrassment. You bit your lip, biting back a laugh. Carmen glared at you lightly. "That's not funny."

"It's a little bit funny, Carmy." You grinned, gently petting down a stray curl tugged out of place. "Like a teeny tiny bit." You pressed your fingers together for emphasis, ignoring his light snort of laugher.

"Richie's runnin' his mouth in there, you know that right?" Carmen muttered, hands smoothing sweetly down your waist.

You shrugged. "He always is."

"Yeah," Carmen laughed. "You're right about that, c'mon." He patted your ass lightly for you to get up. You grabbed his hands, tugging him lightly out of his chair, swinging your arms between the two of you.

"Who cooked tonight?" You asked, arms looped around his waist, padding down to the back room.

"Sydney." Carmen replied, grinning at your hum of satisfaction.

"Oh, everyone avert your fucking eyes, here they come." Richie announced loudly, turning to the table before him. "Cousin, that was fuckin' quick, eh?"

"Shut up." Carmen rolled his eyes, annoyed, pushing past Richie. He ignored the snickers from Tina, placing a hand on your back, pulling your chair out for you.

"Here, baby, you want a pop or somethin'?" Carmen asked you in a hushed tone, reaching to grab a glass from the spaces behind him.

"I'll just do water." You nodded towards the pitcher in the middle.

"Sure. You want lemon?" Carmen asked, pushing your hand away lightly when you went to pour your glass, a simple "I got it" that shouldn't have made you as flustered as it did. You blamed the make out session that got cut short.

Tina's eyes cut to Richie, watching the two of you whisper gently. Carmen looked relaxed, shoulders not tensed and eyes not darting. No, he was calm when he talked to you... maybe even sweet? The smiles he gave you certainly were.

Tina shrugged lightly at Richie, a smug, knowing smile on her face.

[twistedpink]

Could i req childhood friend ace who slowly goes through many stages of im just feeling this way because theyre my super good friend and then realizing that thats not very platonic of him to think about them as hes laying in bed in the middle of the night wondering what its like to kiss them (can be spicy if youd like since adolencence and hormones 🤭) the slow realization after his denial of oh shit thats not the kid next door whom im besties and play with everyday but an actual grown up person that id like to pursue a relationship with

Cuttteeeee!!!!

Bestfriend!Ace’s known you since your teeny tiny days. Taking baths together, building mud pies and whatnot- Your parents thought you were adorable, and did everything from threatening teachers to boycotting clubs just to keep you in the same activities,, At least until it got weird. Sharing a bed for sleepovers is fine until someone has to wash their hands at midnight in the family bathroom :/

Bestfriend!Ace that’s the worst, but you can’t help loving him.. All your new friends in junior high insisted that he was a bad influence, going out of their way to avoid him in the halls, but what they don’t know is that you’re just as bad!! When all your spelltimes end and your homework’s done, Ace is the one knocking at your window for an icecream run, and he wouldn’t have it any other way <3

Bestfriend!Ace doesn’t understand why you’re getting so much attention! Guys in your class just come up to him, asking for advice on how to get it. He doesn’t even register what there is to get until the summer before he goes to college- He realizes you’ve changed. Muscle in places that weren’t there before, soft skin where tweenage acne used to thrive. He realizes you’re hot, like, REALLY hot! And he has no clue what to do with that information, because all he remembers you as is a play date,, (God, what’s he supposed to tell his mom??)

Bestfriend!Ace that watches trash tv and house sits for you just to be in your presence,,, For his pride you’re required to ignore your shirts and deodorants going missing, it’s not his fault you’re so scatterbrained! When you catch him sleeping in your bed after a busy week, it’s impossible to kick him out. Just look at that face!!

Bestfriend!Ace texts you constantly during the school year, and there’s still so much to fill you in on! Why not make up the lost time with a couple sleepovers? His dexterous hands steal away your blankets in the night “accidentally” until your only option is to cuddle up,, You hardly notice the sniffles against your neck and the rosey tint of his cheeks in the darkness. He just missed you so much- Even he, a world renowned mage of the modern age, can’t help but get a little sappy,, Won’t you help a buddy out? He forgot how cold your room is :)

Bestfriend!Ace loves you, but won’t admit it for a lonnnnggggggg time. How’s it any of your business, anyways? Have you always been this nosey? For now, he’s content with your movies and songs, but it’s never too late to “practice” kissing with a friend! He can’t help but stare when you’ve started looking so good while he’s away- Keep sending him those selfies and he’ll start getting homesick,, So long as you don’t make it weird, he’d like to have a nice, relaxing bath with his best friend when he’s back. Just like old times! <3

[domjaehyun]

https://x.com/nctzoro/status/1884280714981695989?s=46&mx=2

a jaehyun ver. for I Love Nerds perhaps 🤓☝🏻??? going crazy over him in glasses ever since the content dropped HOW IS HE REAL??? 😭

nerd jaehyun earnestly and eagerly telling you allllll about the intentionality behind music theory and whole time you’re just thinking about how good he would feel on top of you.

when you decide to cut to the chase and put your hand on his leg, he just freezes, looks at it, looks up at you, and then smiles widely and goes back to talking (he has no idea what you’re doing). you’re getting a teeny bit frustrated at this point so you slip your hand up higher and maybe you even squeeze a little bit.

fortunately, this definitely gets his attention, and his sentence is rudely interrupted by his sudden, flustered coughing fit. whole time he’s coughing, his torso is pivoting and moving this way and that but you can’t help but notice that he’s doing everything in his power not to move the one leg that you’re holding onto while his body is wracked with coughs and dry hacking.

as ridiculous as he looks right now, his loud medical emergency unwittingly drawing attention to yourselves tucked away in the corner of the library, you can’t help but be endeared to him.

“jaehyunnnn,” you whine when he’s done coughing up what sounds like his gallbladder or some other internal organ. “i wanna go back to my dorm.”

his face falls—and it falls fast. “oh, i’m sorry,” he mumbles woefully, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he sniffs once and looks away from you.

“sorry?” you ask, confused. “for what?”

“for talking too much and making you want to go home,” he answers sadly, his brows starting to knit together in the middle as his emotions get the better of him. “sorry, i just got so excited, and i know you don’t care, so i shouldn’t have gone on the way i did—“

“jaehyun, i think you’re confused.” you say slowly. “i’m going to my dorm,” you explain, pointing at yourself.

he nods slowly in understanding.

you turn your hand to point at him. “and you’re going to my dorm.”

his eyes widen and he turns to look at you so suddenly that it sends his glasses slipping halfway down his nose. “i’m going to your dorm…?” he asks, a tinge of excitement and relief creeping into his voice.

“yes.” you nod.

“with you.”

“yes, with me.” you hold back your laugh.

“we’re going together.”

“yes, sir.”

“to your dorm.”

“indeed.”

“where we’ll be together… alone…”

“most definitely…”

“in your dorm.”

“you know what?” you chuckle, rising to your feet. “you take as long as you need to process this. i’m gonna head to the bathroom and you should be packing up or packed by the time i get back, okay?” you run your fingers through his hair, ruffling the strands into a messy, tousled look that screams effortlessly handsome, and if you’re not mistaken, he shivers a bit at your touch when your nails reach the back of his neck. experimentally, you drag your nails along the nape of his neck and lightly across the side of his jaw until you’re playfully tugging at his earlobe affectionately.

you maybe expected a giggle or a chuckle perhaps from him; maybe even a “stop, that tickles” or something of the sort. what you didn’t expect in the slightest was for his eyes to roll all the way back into his head and flutter shut as he lets out a low, delighted groan.

“oh?” you giggle, stroking the shell of his ear with one finger.

“holy shit, keep doing that,” he grunts.

“mm, yeah? feels good?” you can’t hide your smile and the smugness it’s tinted with, but it’s not like it matters—jaehyun is so wrapped up in your ministrations on his head that his eyes are shut tightly and his mouth is hanging open ever so slightly, shallow, almost ragged breaths leaving him.

“feels so good.” he admits in a slurred mumble as you proceed to scritch and scratch gently at his head with one hand and massage his ear with the other. to your surprise, he reaches up and loops an arm around the backs of your legs, pulling you between his slowly parting legs to bring you directly in front of him.

“hi,” you hum sweetly, and he looks up at you, pupils blown out with desire and an utterly overwhelmed look on his face.

“hi,” he mumbles shyly, watching you intently. when you resume massaging his ear, he turns his head in so his lips can press against the inside of your forearm. it starts off slowly, a brushing against each other so light that you think you imagined it. but when he sighs softly, his warm breath moistening your skin before he unmistakably presses his lips to your skin, you know it’s not all in your head.

he looks up at you for a reaction and when you just watch him wordlessly, intrigued and a bit amused with your head cocked to the side, he does it again. and again, lips shifting further up your forearm—and further still, until his lips are smooching the crook of your arm and you’re giggling in surprise—and even still, his fingers hurriedly pushing up your sleeve so he can kiss the newly exposed flesh.

“jaehyun,” you hum to get his attention.

“mm?” he hears you, you’re pretty sure, but it’s obvious he’s not truly listening as he kisses a path from your inner elbow, down your forearm, and to your hand, where he places kiss after kiss after kiss—your wrist, the very center of the palm of your hand, the fingertips of your middle and ring fingers, and when you attempt to pull your hand away to tilt his head up so you’re looking at each other, he grumbles something whiny in protest and his eyes scan your surroundings as if he’s looking for something.

your curiosity gets the better of you and you can’t help but ask. “jaehyun, baby, what are you looking around for?”

“i wanted to make sure you and i were actually alone and that nobody’s watching us.” he murmurs, but there’s an urgency to it you haven’t heard from him before, and that coupled with the dark, unwavering look in his eyes only piques your interest further.

“why?” you say slowly, dragging the word out a bit to emphasize your confusion.

“so i can do this,” he mumbles, eyes darting briefly around for good measure before he’s clutching the hand he’s been kissing and bringing your fingers to his mouth, pressing soft, gentle kisses to each pad of your fingers as you giggle shyly in delight. “feels good?” he murmurs, and you are absolutely certain you’re not hallucinating the suggestive, teasing lilt to his voice.

“yeah,” you sigh blissfully, and he chuckles with your fingers still pressed to his lips.

“what about this?” he doesn’t even give you time to reply before he’s leaning forward and taking your middle and index fingers into his mouth. you gasp in surprise—because of course you do; the very hot music nerd has you between his legs and your fingers in his warm, wet mouth and while you want this, oh, so very badly, this is not how you anticipated it to go.

he’s sucking on them eagerly, fingers looped tightly around your wrist so you couldn’t yank it away even if you wanted to. when his tongue comes into play, the mischievous wet muscle gliding along your fingers and swirling around them, you realize you might just be a goner.

he smirks—yes, smirks—when a small moan escapes you, and he slowly pulls your fingers from his mouth but doesn’t release your hand from its position, your fingertips dangling pointlessly just a breath away from his waiting mouth.

to your surprise, he stands up and haphazardly shoves his laptop and notebook in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. he stretches his hand out for your bag, which you hand him readily without even really processing it fully. with a firm grasp on your bag and his bag securely on his back, he nods to you in agreement and starts to lead you out of the library.

“where are we going?” you wonder aloud as he leads you through the shelves and study tables with a sureness, a confidence and an energy that, once again, you don’t think you’ve ever seen from him.

“your dorm, baby. you forgot so soon?” he has the absolute audacity to tease you in response, a playful grin on his face as he regards you carefully.

all you can do is chuckle in response, now eagerly anticipating the moment you can get your revenge.

[byhees]

thinking about boyfriend heeseung, who’s oh-so curious about this self-acclaimed ‘smudge-proof’ product lying right in your palm; the packaging surely advertises as such, a bolded text slapped across the surface, as though screaming right into his eyes.

he can’t help but keep his eyes trained on you, gaze shifting from the delicate way you gently tip the box, taking out the tint, and applying just a thin, shimmery coat onto your lips. “what do you think?”

your voice indirectly grasps his wavering attention, his eyes instantly landing on your prettily puckered lips; “it’s a pretty shade, right?” he can practically hear the smile in your voice, and it sends a skip to his heart.

and although your question remains unanswered, looming in the air between your bodies, he can’t help but to ponder just a teeny tiny question— just how smudge-proof can this little product be? surely it’s just a hoax, or some kind of marketing ploy..

and so, as very famously quoted, ‘you’ll never know until you try’, heeseung leans a tad closer to you, pressing his lips onto yours, as his hand raises to caress the swell of your cheek in automation— and you simply, freeze.

“guess they really lived up to it”, he softly mumbles, a little smile toying on the corner of his mouth as he gently wipes the edge of your lips, fingertip finding itself without a trace of the pretty pink lip tint.

[emilys-bangs]

cherry lips l e.p

Tags: fluff, first kiss, getting together, r has a lip peeling problem (bc I do too), teeny tiny mention of blood (from the lip peeling), no use of yn

Summary: Tired of seeing you pick at your lips, Emily gives you some lip balm. That proves to be a mistake.

Word count: 1.5k

“Here.” Emily throws a stick of lip balm at you. 

It falls on your lap and you give her a confused frown. She barely holds back an eye roll; your fingers are currently pinching a rough patch of skin on your lip—the rest is already peeled off—and when you drop your hand to pick up the chapstick, she catches a smear of blood on your thumbnail.

It really is such a shame. 

You have the most beautiful lips; kissable and soft looking and she’s so often gripped with the urge to lean forward and press her own to yours, test out that softness for herself.

But you have a bad habit—you pick at them constantly, your nails catching on rough skin and peeling it off, leaving behind bright red marks that are sometimes painful to look at. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful to her—god, she wished it did—but sometimes she takes pity on those poor lips of yours. And when she was shopping for some mid-week groceries last night, she couldn’t help but toss the chapstick in her cart.

She won’t be thinking too hard about why she did that.

“Really?” You ask, turning the chapstick over between your fingers, biting your lips to hold back a smile.

Emily’s heart trips when you look up at her with a quirk of your brow; she’s usually good at reading you, but right now she can’t tell if you’re amused or exasperated.

“Since you obviously don’t own one,” she quips, sitting down on the edge of your desk. You roll your eyes and run your thumb over the plastic tube, your nail dragging over the white lettering on the side.

Cherry.

Emily definitely didn’t choose that because it’s her favorite, and she most definitely didn’t choose it because she wants to see how that shade of red would look on your lips.

“I do,” you scoff, unthinkingly bringing your other hand to your mouth. Emily grimaces as you start tearing at the skin, insistent on peeling it off.

“Hey, stop that,” she swats at your hand. You frown as your hand drops to your lap. “Put some Vaseline on or something,” she says, her brow creasing at the blood slowly blooming on your lip, “or some of that chapstick you definitely own.”

She looks at you expectantly and you huff. “Smartass.” You mutter as she turns and snatches a tissue from Reid’s desk.

Emily arches her brow as she extends it to you. “Thank you, Emily, for giving me something I so desperately needed. Oh, no problem, it was my pleasure, really—”

You laugh as you take the tissue from her and press it to your bottom lip, wiping away the little smidge of blood. 

“Thank you, Emily.” You say sincerely, looking up at her through your lashes. “I really, really appreciate you giving me this lip balm and I promise to use it till it runs out.” You vow, your voice silky smooth, fingers wrapped around the chapstick as you hold it to your heart.

Emily’s heart stumbles once more. Do you know the effect you have on her? Sometimes she thinks you do, with the way you flirt with her, but other times you drip with genuine innocence, your smiles nothing but friendly.

“Whatever,” she murmurs, her booted toe lightly hitting yours. You smile and uncap the lip balm, twisting it to reveal a stick of deep red, almost burgundy. 

She almost stops breathing when you turn to the tiny mirror on your desk and start applying it, your lips quickly tinting red, the uneven splotches of recently peeled skin disappearing. You trace it over your skin and smooth your lips together when you’re done, spreading the balm evenly before you turn back to her.

“Good?” You ask as you cap the chapstick and slip it into your pocket. Something in her grows warm at the thought of you carrying it with you. She wonders if it’ll find its way onto your nightstand tonight, if it’ll be hidden in the pocket of one of your blazers tomorrow.

Emily almost laughs at the question. Her eyes drop to your lips, just to check, as if she hadn’t been ogling them while you’ve been turned away. She can still see the edge of the rough skin you were picking at, but it’s mostly hidden beneath the red. She has to tear her eyes from your lips, still ever so perfect.

Kissable. 

“Good,” she agrees, inclining her head in a nod. “I sincerely hope you’ll keep using it.” Her voice turns sickly sweet as she smiles, dimples curving in her cheeks. Your eyes brighten at the shift in her tone.

Grinning, you rest your chin on your palm. “Aw, you wanna kiss me that bad, Prentiss?” You tease. 

She laughs breathily, the sound a little choked if you listen properly. You have no idea.

“Just don’t want those lips to scare anyone away, hon,” she taps your nose and slides off your desk, grinning when you flip her off.

She settles back into her own desk and looks across at you, her heart warming at the light blush on your cheeks, a similar pink to your lips.

“Screw you, Emily,” you grumble, but you’re not fooling anyone with your poorly hidden smile.

She winks at you. “You’ll thank me later.”

----

It’s possibly the worst mistake she’s ever made.

Ever since she handed you the lip balm, you’ve been diligently applying it. Your lips are no longer cracked or dry; they’re plump and healed, shining with a subtle pink sheen, veering into red from the lip balm.

It goes without saying that work has become infinitely harder. She can’t focus when she sees the imprint of your lips on your coffee mug, a red kiss on the rim after you tip your drink back. When you pull out the chapstick in front of her she goes blank, her eyes zeroing in on the smooth, impossibly softer looking skin of your lips.

It only takes a week before her mind inevitably slips and exposes her.

You’re smoothing your hair in the bathroom when she walks in, also intent on touching up her appearance before delivering the profile. Your gaze slides to her and you smile, those perfect lips of yours turning up at the sight of her.

“Hey,” you say as she approaches, but she’s not listening. You’re turning over the chapstick between your fingers, the sheen on your lips telling her it’s freshly applied.

Emily doesn’t return your greeting. Her gaze drops to your mouth as she steps in close, closer than she realizes. 

“Your lips look good,” she says quietly. 

Your brows lift and immediately she feels her stomach drop, a flush rising up her cheeks. “Better,” she amends, her words breathless with embarrassment, “they look better. Than before. Not chapped.”

She really should stop talking. Her mouth snaps shut as her cheeks start to flame. She should stop looking at you, she thinks as your gaze drags over her. Your eyes linger on the pink tint of her pale cheeks, her widened eyes, the flush crawling up her jaw. She swallows and your eyes track that, too, making her body heat.

Emily sees the exact moment something shifts in your expression, as if you’ve come to a decision. Absently, you rub your smooth lips together. Absently, her eyes fall to them.

“They look good, huh?” You tilt your head. You take a few steps and close the miniscule distance between you two. Her chest presses into yours; she breathes in sharply. 

“You know what, Em?” You murmur, your eyes locked on hers in a way that makes her feel dizzy. “They feel even better.”

Emily’s heart races as you slip the lip balm back into your pocket. When you lean in impossibly closer and place your hand on her cheek, she stops breathing entirely.

“We’ve been playing this game for a while,” you say, your thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. She leans her face into your hand, chasing your touch. You smile.

“But it’s not a game, is it, Em?”

God, when you say her name like that. When you say Em and not Emily, when you let the syllables roll around on your tongue, when you say it lazily, carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.

Her hand finds your waist. She smiles a little, through her racing heart. “No,” she agrees softly. “It’s not.”

Your skin is warm through your clothes. She hears the soft hitch in your breath, the way your skin caves beneath her touch.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Emily laughs, soft and a little breathless. “Please,” she twists her fingers into your shirt, feels the material slip against her skin.

When you finally kiss her, she tastes cherries.

*I didn’t expect to write this so quickly after the first one but inspiration struck and I ran with it haha. I hope you enjoyed <33 I’d possibly like to write more for em, so if you’ve got any requests, pop in my inbox and let me know!

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 17: public sex with sampo koski from hsr

warnings: exhibitionism, degrading, fingering, sampo being a slut as usual, finger sucking, gagging, slight feminization

notes: silly silly con-man getting fucked silly

it was sampo’s intention when he did everything.

annoying you, throwing paper balls at you, constantly going “psst! [name]!” only to blow you a kiss or wink at you when you do sigh and pay attention to him. just simply irking you in general. or getting on your nerves.

being a volunteering medic in natasha’s little clinic leaves your plate full of work to do, little to no sleep schedule except for the power naps you stela from time to time. even as the owner of the clinic worries over your health and the constant heavy eyebags under your eyes, all you do is wave off of her worry.

your work schedule is the reason why you’re always so slow and sluggish in your movements. words slurred, voice low and raspy as you literally fit the term ‘walking dead’. perhaps it was that nature of yours that caused sampo to be infatuated with you.

he’s always seen you around natasha’s clinic. helping out with her work, taking care of others, babysitting the younglings — you did everything and anything. the conman didn’t even bother to hide his eeny teeny crush on you. bringing you red roses, calling you cheesy nicknames, taking care of you, dragging you away to make you cuddle him because his boo boos hurt. it was just a mere sore ankles, sampo. get your act together.

but somehow, someway, you would end up in his arms before drifting off to much needed sleep. he has a silver tongue for a reason. but it was further into your little situationship that sampo started to get a little more daring with his little tease.

asking for your consent first, he would send you small little sneak peak photos that’s more similar to a nude pic. it started out relatively tame.

a small snap of him pulling up the front of his shirt that barely covers anything, showing his v-line perfectly. a little pic with a red rose held between his teeth. quick photo of him shirtless but it became progressively more daring with each pic.

picture of him straight out of the shower with a towel around his waist. a sneak peek of him wearing a bralette and his smug face. him in his boxers. it didn’t took long before he was sending you pictures of him in lingeries or him sucking on a dildo, saying wishing it was you instead.

it won’t take a genius to figure out that he wanted you. badly.

all it took for you to snap and give him what he wanted happened to be showing you a very thin lace tied around his waist. the sideless shirt of his did nothing to hide the string of what you would assume to be a lingerie piece as he pulls out the string, flashing it to you with a smug grin and a pink tinted cheeks.

that was all you needed to have all the energy you needed to fuck him in the empty alleyway next to the clinic. it was way past midnight and no one would be outside during such ungodly hours, making everything perfect.

“stupid slut. you wanted me that bad? did no one taught you how to use your words correctly?” you hiss into his ear angrily, pushing him flush against the wall as you shove two fingers inside his mouth. the thief gags at the feeling, choking on your fingers having not expected you to be so rough but that caused his pants to tighten more.

“now, at least for once be good and get my fingers all nice and wet, got it?” you demand, forefinger and middle finger pulling on his tongue. he could only nod dumbly, having been reduced to whines already. sucking on your fingers, swirling his tongue around them before flicking his wet muscle between your two fingers caused to briefly wonder how good he would be on his knees. that is for later.

once you deem your finger were wet enough, you pull them out. his saliva coating and dripping from your fingers to your palm. his own lips all swollen and green eyes looking hazy. you haven’t even fucked him properly yet.

turning him around with his chest to the wall, you slip a finger inside him, causing him to whine at the stretch. just one finger felt so good already. it made him drool as he wonders how your cock would feel inside him. it would definitely leave him sore and limping for days, rearranging his insides. pushing his leg up with your free hand hooked under his knee, spreading him open for you caused your finger to hit his spot.

“aunngh—! guuhck♡︎ [n-name]... there! r-right there!“ sampo moans out loudly, not even bothering to silence himself in the dark alleyway. he didn’t care about being caught, he just wanted you to fuck him stupid. whether that be with your fingers or your strap, he didn’t care. he just wanted to be fucked stupid by you.

slipping another finger inside his loose hole, you let out a grunt at how tight he was around you. it almost felt like you were fucking a cunt with how he was clamping on your two fingers, moaning and drooling like a cheap whore.

“dirty little thing… have you always fantasized about this? getting fingered in some random alley?” you ask, whispering into his ear as he moans deliriously. you may not have noticed but each time you scissored his hole open, your fingertips always grazed against that one spot. that one spongy spot inside his tight walls that make him squeal. head thrown back on your shoulder as he weakly bucks his hips.

“asnh! gyang… mmgh! anh anh anggh♡︎” whiny, high pitched noises of utter debauchery comes from the conman. weakly bucking his hips back into your fingers. he could only moan and drool in place against the wall as he takes whatever you give him without complaint.

this was all his intention when he first laid eyes on the pretty, lace purple panties. sampo knew you would like it on him.

[slut4megantheestallion]

⋆ ☆ Chloe price x 2000sbaddie!fem!reader gf

Warnings: Chloe price x fem reader, black!reader, 2000s, Chloe is a simple for the reader, fluff, reader is a baddie, wlw.

☆Chloe is down bad for you, and she doesn't even try to hide it at all. She didn't think she'd be the type to simp over someone so hard, but there she is, completely obsessed with you.

☆You are the baddest thing to ever walk into her life, and she knows it. Baby tees, low-rise jeans, fresh acrylic nails tapping on your phone screen, lip gloss always poppin' and a face card that never declines-yeah, Chloe never had a chance.

☆Your style is immaculate, and Chloe is constantly in awe. She'll sit back, arms crossed, biting her lips as she watches you put together an outfit like it's a runway show. She doesn't know how you always pull off the perfect look, but she respects the hell out of it

☆She's your biggest fan, Chloe hypes you up like it's her full-time job. The second she lays eyes on you, she's grinning, whistling, borderline drooling - it's ridiculous.

☆Damn, babe... you trying to kill me? Like, what am I even supposed to do when you look this good?

☆"No, seriously, how? How do you always eat like this? I'm conversation you sold your soul for this level of perfection."

☆If you take too long getting ready, she won't even complain. Instead, she'll be lounging on your bed, watching you like a lovesick idiot, head propped up on her hand. She eats this up.

☆"I could sit here and watch you all day... You're like a work of art, babe."

☆She's taking pictures of you ALL THE TIME.

☆She's got a whole album in her phone labeled "My Goddess" (yes, she's dramatic like that.)

☆She posts you on her story with captions like, "Life isn't fair. How am I supposed to function with this woman walking around looking like THAT?"

☆If you let her take Polaroid pictures of you, she'll stick them in her wallet, on her walls, and even inside her truck just to see your face everywhere.

☆She constantly brags about you constantly. You are her greatest flex, and she makes sure everyone knows.

☆She brings you up in conversations for no reason.

☆If Max or Rachel says literally anything, Chloe would be like,

☆"That reminds me - my girlfriend is so hot. Wanna see pictures?"

☆If you post a fire selfie, she's the first in the comments, typing out paragraphs about how insanely fine you are.

☆"Y'all see what I'm working with???? Y'all wish. Y'ALL WISH."

☆If someone randomly stares at you too long, Chloe is grinning like a smug bastard because, duh, of course they're staring. But they can look all they want - you're hers.

☆"They're just mad they could never pull someone like you. Can't blame 'em. I'd be sick, too."

☆She's obsessed with your style. Chloe loves how put together you always are. She can't relate, but she's obsessed with it.

☆Some days, you're Y2k baddie realness- velour tracksuits, tinted sunglasses, lips lined to perfection. Other days, you're in baggy jeans and a baby tee. Looking like you walked out of a 2003 music video. And no matter what you wear, Chloe is in the background, losing her mind over it.

☆At first, she acted like she didn't care about shopping, but now? She'll hold your bag, give outfit opinions, and even suggest pieces she thinks would look good on you.

☆"Okay, okay, what if we go for, like, the ultimate hot girl look? Low- rise jeans, one of those teeny little crop tops that show off your stomach? Ugh, I'm so fucking lucky."

☆If you do her makeup or hair, she's melting. Completely whipped!!

☆If you do a lil makeover, she's looking in the mirror like,

☆"Holy shit... You made me look so hot. How did you-?"

☆Chloe's possessive over you, but in the chillest way possible.

☆Chloe isn't subtle about claiming you.

☆Arm around your waist all times.

☆Hand on your thighs whenever you sit next to her.

☆If someone gets too comfortable around you, Chloe pulls you closer just to send a message.

☆"Yeah, babe, come sit on my lap- wait, you're already sitting? Okay, whatever, just be closer."

☆If someone tries to flirt with you, she's watching with the biggest smirk on her face. She's not jealous because she knows you're hers, but she loves watching people make a fool of themselves.

☆when you shut them down, she leans in, all smug, whispering,

☆"Damn, they really thought they had a shot? That's hilarious."

☆If you're ever upset, Chloe is ready to throw hands.

☆"Nah, who got you fucked up? Let's go, babe - I'll fight 'em right now."

☆She adores you, period. Chloe never thought she'd fall for you this hard, but here she is, completely wrapped around your finger.

☆She lives for your confidence. The way you walk, the way you talk, and the way you own every room you step into - it drives her crazy in the best way possible.

☆She secretly writes about you in her journal. Filling pages with little doodles of your name, random thoughts about how much she loves your smile, and notes like,

☆"I have no idea how I got someone this perfect. Like, I genuinely think I won the lottery. What the fuck."

☆If she's ever feeling low, she'll scroll through her pictures of you, read your old texts, or just stare at you like a lovesick fool.

☆If you catch her, she'll smirk and shrug.

☆"What? I just like looking at my girl, sue me."

☆Overall, Chloe is your biggest fan, protector, hype woman, and personal simp, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

[toomuchracket]

hny (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)

missed him a lot, here's a teeny baby fic about the first new year's eve as a couple. enjoy <3

"we're putting the hootenanny on for the countdown, yeah?"

matty looks up from his conversation with george's girlfriend, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the disdain on both of their faces. "what kind of a fucking question is that, hann? of course we are. we're not animals."

adam stares him down, swigging from the glass of... whatever that is in his hand. "you wouldn't let us put it on last time you hosted new year's eve..."

"yeah, well, that was a while ago."

"... because it would make you seem cringe in front of," the guitarist nods at you, collapsing into giggles when he takes you in properly. "her."

"shut up, hann," matty rubs his temples, a telltale sign of exasperation; his eyes flick to you, the slight panic tinting them obvious even in your tipsy state. "ignore him, sweetheart, he's drunk."

your gaze shifts to your friend beside him, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. "but he's right, isn't he?"

"well," she pats matty on the arm sympathetically, but her pretty face lifts into a smirk. "yeah, he is. your boyfriend here didn't want anything making him seem uncool to you," grinning, she leans in and tugs matty's cheeks, shouting over his protests. "he looooooooooooved you."

"i miss when you were halfway across europe," matty grumbles, swatting her away.

"no you don't."

"in this instant, i do."

"love you too, bff. mwah!" she messily kisses matty's cheek - he's quick to hide it, but you don't miss his smile at the sweet gesture - before teetering over to you, fawn-like as a result of drunkenness and high heels, and planting a sloppy kiss on your nose. "love you even more, though. missed you a lot."

you wrap your arms around her, tears pricking at your eyes. christ, maybe you should slow down on the drinks. "love you so much. you're never allowed to leave me ever again."

"as if i'd do that. we're gonna have a double wedding like in barbie princess and the pauper and everything."

matty cuts in. "do george and i get a say in this, or... ?"

you and your friend both turn to look at him, still clutching each other like life rafts - you shake your head, and she scoffs. "absolutely not. speaking of george, though," she kisses your nose again, stumbling as she lets go of you. "m'gonna find him. and then i'm gonna put the hootenanny on the telly. and then i'm gonna sort champagne for the bells. come on, adam, you can help me."

"love you, darling!" you call after her as she wobbles her way out of the room, dragging an equally wobbly adam behind her. alone with your boyfriend, you slide off your windowsill perch and make your way onto his lap. "you're alright too, i s'pose."

"cheeky," matty pinches your thigh, kissing away the little yelp you let out in response - you deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth with a moan, and he smiles against your lips before pulling away. "jesus, save some for the bells, babe."

you pout, tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. "you're turning down kisses?"

"just delaying them, darling," matty coos. his hands trail up and down the sides of your body, across the skintight red dress you strategically picked for tonight's celebrations; his eyes follow the trail, desire in them as clear as day. "you're making it really fucking difficult in this outfit, though, i must say."

"give in, then!"

matty smiles, shaking his head. "five more minutes, baby. five minutes, and the first thing i'll be doing in the new year is snogging the face off you - which, if you ask me, is the ideal way to kick off 2015. to do that, though, i need to conserve my energy," he leans forward, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and you can't help smiling. "will you let me do that, sweetheart?"

you sigh. "this better be the best kiss of all time, healy."

"trust me, babe, it will be," matty kisses softly up your neck to whisper in your ear. "and after the kiss, i'm gonna kick everybody out, and take that dress of yours off with my teeth. deal?"

"deal."

[apomaro-mellow]

Hello! I love how you write and neeeed someone to steddie-fy this plssss

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM6CptSbP/

ooooh delicious

also this gives me a chance to do a teeny bit of frat!steve that erryone's goin crazy for rite now

Eddie had come a long way from rolling his eyes at his frat brat of a roommate. He'd seen Steve on that first day with his backwards baseball cap and had been ready to write him off. But after only one semester, he'd become totally smitten. In a platonic way, of course.

Steve always texted ahead if his frat brothers would be in the dorm so that Eddie could decide if he wanted to be around that energy. Whatever mess they might've made, Steve always cleaned up. When Eddie was up late studying or working on a hobby, he could hear Steve creeping in like a mouse, respectful of his roommate's night owl tendencies.

Sometimes Eddie had friends over, and Steve was always offering drinks or snacks, playing the part of hospitable host.

And dare he say it? The man was funny. Charming even. To the point that when the semester ended and Steve asked if he wanted to be roommates again, Eddie accepted without a second thought.

Which brings him to the problem he had today.

Now, Eddie himself was pretty free with his emotions. He didn't hold things close to the chest, especially after getting to know someone. So he was no stranger to physical shows, even among his guy friends. He'd hold their hands, hug them close. Even tease them with the promise of a kiss ("Jeff, my man, I could kiss ya!").

But that last thing was a line he never crossed. Kisses were a little too much for surface affection, in his opinion. And as much as he liked Steve and his company, they were just friends. So why was Steve kissing him all the time.

Well, not all the time. Just when Eddie was asleep. Thanks to his late nights, Eddie would sometimes nap during the day. Usually in his own room, but sometimes on the couch. And sometimes when he was on the couch, not yet asleep but down for the count, he would hear Steve's familiar footsteps, and feel an unfamiliar set of lips brush against his forehead. Once Eddie realized what was happening, he first wondered how long Steve had been doing this. Then he wondered why he got butterflies in his stomach.

Honestly, he was surprised that Steve hadn't caught on that he had caught on. Eddie was fidgety by nature and even though he tried to rein it in, he was sure some of his twitchiness had to show whenever Steve gave him those little kisses.

Even so, Steve just went on with his every day routine. Acting like he wasn't giving Eddie a smooch like every other day. Actually, it was getting close to every day now. At least once a day, Eddie found the time to get on the couch in their living room and close his eyes and pretend to be asleep. Sure he could just tell Steve not to kiss him anymore, but he didn't wanna embarrass the guy. Plus, the butterflies.

Then, one day, while Eddie was having one of his pretend naps, he heard Steve come in with someone else.

"Is this the guy?", the friend whispered. It was a male voice so it was probably someone from his frat.

"Yeah", Steve said, just as quietly but with a dreamy tint to his voice.

"And you still haven't asked him out yet?"

"I want to. But he's-you know." Steve's voice was so much closer. Like he was crouching next to the couch.

"He's what?"

Then Eddie felt Steve playing with his hair. "He's so out of my league. He's the president of his club, has his own band, our Lit teacher loves him. Aaand he got here on a full academic scholarship."

"Then you gotta shoot your shot before someone else grabs him."

Steve sighed. "Let's just get the stuff and go."

They left and Eddie was filled with determination. Steve wanted to ask him out. Steve thought he was amazing. Steve thought that he was out of his league. The butterflies in his stomach were gone now and replaced with ants in his pants. Probably not the best analogy but it worked for now. Because in this moment, he actually had to go to sleep and be ready to wake up early.

---------------------

Even after a night of drinking, Steve stayed true to his routine and would set an alarm to get up for a quick morning jog. If he was truly hungover, he'd take it easy and shorten the run but all in all, he never missed it. And he never missed an alarm. But today, instead of waking up to the sound of his playlist on shuffle, he felt something soft and tender touch his forehead.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

Steve's eyes popped open to see Eddie hover, haloed by the sun rising. "Wha?"

"I wanted to return the favor, but unfortunately you get up at the ass-crack of dawn."

"Return the...?"

"By my count, I've got a huge backlog of kisses to make up for", Eddie grinned, then leaned in to give him another, this time on the cheek.

Steve's cheeks pinkened and he had the nerve to look bashful and Eddie just had to kiss the other cheek.

"How long have you known?", Steve asked, pulling the cover over his face.

"About a month. How long have you been doing it?", Eddie asked.

Steve let out a groan and Eddie didn't know if that meant he'd been doing it for longer or if Eddie found out right away. Whatever the case, it was all out in the open now.

"You gonna show me your cute face so I can keep kissing it?"

Steve slowly peeked over the blanket, only showing his eyes. "....Only if you kiss all of it."

Eddie spent the better part of the morning, kissing every inch of Steve's face, teasing him for as long as he could before finally planting one on his lips.

[moonhoures]

Merciless

🕷️ kinktober — day 5: bondage 🕸️

pairing: hyunjin (stray kids) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, the tiniest amount of fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, bdsm dynamic, bondage (rope & mouth gag), pet names: ‘honey’, ‘good boy’, ‘baby’, ‘pretty boy’, ‘my love’ (all for hyunjin), oral (m receiving), brief handjob, mentions of spit/drool (lots of it), ball fondling, mild edging, cum swallowing

word count: ~1.7k

synopsis: your boyfriend looks the prettiest when he’s tied down

a/n: this is v short and a teeny bit 🤏🏻 out of my comfort zone since i’m not used to writing bdsm-themed stuff, but i hope it’s still enjoyable for you guys 🫶🏻

posted: october 5, 2023

kinktober masterlist

It’s unfair. A downright act of injustice for him to look as beautiful as he does in this moment. Long, raven-colored hair perfectly tousled, strands delicately fallen over his forehead and in front of his eyes, some of the ends catching on his eyelashes. His sculpted face tinted was with natural blush and his glimmering eyes shined in the dim light from your lamp in the corner of the room. His body looked like a statue chiseled from the finest piece of rock by the most-talented of sculptors. Though, you had the bigger hand in his posing tonight.

Hyunjin sat naked in the black iron-framed chair before you, his arms expertly tied down to each arm of the chair with a rope made of safe (but intriguing) material. The cords wrapped around his muscles and wrists, holding him down, but you left just enough room to keep his circulation intact. The same cords were coiled around his upper body, intertwining up and over his chest and shoulders, anchoring him to the seat. Even his calves were tied to the legs of the chair, giving him no way of escaping on his own. He was completely and utterly at your mercy, whenever you decided to give it to him, but it wouldn’t be any time soon.

His chest was flushed, light red marks appearing over the skin from his previous orgasm and the chafing of the rope. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t unendurable. He breathed heavily through his nose, nostrils flaring with every intake and outtake of oxygen. His eyes were fluttering closed. His orgasm had only just started to subside, but you were already wanting to give him another.

His eyelids shot back open when he felt your fingertips graze his knee. The hairs on his leg stood up and goosebumps prickled from the skin of his thighs. His eyes had a hint of nervousness in them when they met your own.

“What? Too soon?” you patronized him, an eerie smile creeping in from the corner of your lips. You found his deer-in-headlights expression very cute, “Oh, come on, honey, I know you’ve got another one in you. Don’t you?”

He didn’t bother attempting to respond. It was futile. With the gag in his mouth, even the loudest of words he could muster wouldn’t be comprehensible. The best he could do was shake his head, but that was no good. You had already decided his fate for him.

“Hm, I thought so.”

You sunk down onto your knees in front of him. There was a sparkle to your eyes as you watched him watch you. His fringe swayed in front of his dark, lust-clouded eyes, making him look like a model. His beauty was astonishing. You would never tire of looking at him, you thought. And he only got prettier when he was like this, tied up just for you. It wasn’t fair. It was selfish of you to keep his beauty all to yourself, but that’s what made having him like this so special. You knew you were the only one to ever behold such a sight.

“Don’t give me those eyes,” your voice sounded like honey when you spoke. Your fingernails traced aimless lines up and down his exposed thighs, leaving pale marks in their wake. They came to a stop right at his pelvis, briefly leaving his skin before you took his half-flaccid dick in your grasp. You looked up at him again, seeing anticipation in his eyes now, “You know you want it.”

I do, he thought to himself.

“You want my mouth. My tongue. You want me to choke on your cock, don’t you?”

Yes.

“You want to stuff my mouth full until I gag?”

God, Yes!

“You want to cum down my throat?”

Fuck, just do it already.

“Huh, Hyunjin? Answer me, honey.”

Despite the humiliation he felt, he tried his best to do what you asked. But his reply came out in muffled nonsense. The spit from his attempt seeped into the fabric you used to gag him, and created a wet spot on the corners of his mouth.

“Good boy,” you praised him.

His heart beat quickened as he watched you lean forward and press fluttering kisses along his thighs. They trailed upwards, until you were at the base of his cock. He was still a little soft, but nothing you couldn’t deal with. You kissed him all over, up to his tip. Your lips puckered, peppering small smooches against his slit. You let spit bubble up and drip down his shaft—lots of it.

Hyunjin loved messy blowjobs.

He didn’t tell you that, but you could just tell. There was a glint of excitement that settled in his gaze as his eyes trained on your every move. His breathing pattern picked up in pace, and his fingers twitched, having nothing to grab onto.

“You’ll be good for me, right? You’ll let me suck your cock, and you won’t cum until I tell you to.”

He nodded furiously, pathetic little ‘mhm’s being eaten up by the fabric between his lips. You smiled, eyes returning to his hardening shaft in your hand. You opened your mouth and sucked in his tip, loving the way he filled your mouth as you went further down. When you got as far as you could go, you hummed, and a small whimper sounded from Hyunjin’s throat.

You pulled your mouth almost completely off, then took him in again, and repeated that a few times, slowly. His erection leaned a little to the left naturally, so your right cheek bubbled with the tip of his cock pressing into it. The sight made his head spin.

Soft gagging noises filled the room as you took him in deeply again, his tip touching the back of your throat. It was uncomfortable for you, and it was getting harder to breathe, but you didn’t care about that. You cared about having him on the brink of a raging orgasm. So you added your hands to the mix, using one of them to massage his balls. He let out a whine, like a sad puppy, and his eyes closed for just a moment before opening to watch you again. He couldn’t help it; he needed to watch you torment him.

You made eye contact with him while you sucked him off and fondled him. You made sure to let your drool pool up at the corners of your mouth and drip down his cock. Once you had enough of his balls, you started to pump the bottom of his length, using your drool as lube. His arms and legs were flexing with unbridled energy; he was itching to get out of his restraints. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to caress your face. He wanted to feel your spit all over his hands as he pumped his cum into your mouth. He wanted to hold your head down his cock until your nose brushed his pubes. He needed it. But he couldn’t have it, and it was killing him.

“You’re doing so well, Jinnie. Just a little longer.”

The tears were brimming in his eyes now, creating sparkles in the corners. You felt your heart become mush at the sight. Despite your act right now, you had the biggest soft spot for your boyfriend. Because at the end of the day, that’s all this was: an act. As soon as he decided he had as much as he could take. As soon as the safeword left his mouth. You would praise him and give him the most comforting hug you could manage to give him. You would rub his skin where the ropes held him after you took them off, and he would thank you for treating him so well. You both would get the sexual gratification you wanted, and you would both be happy.

“Where do you want to cum, baby? My mouth? My face?”

His eyes widened and his brows upturned at the first option, so you repeated it. He nodded his head vigorously.

“Okay, pretty boy,” you held his eye contact like you had him under hypnosis. He wasn’t even watching your ministrations anymore, his eyes solely existed to look into yours in that moment. He wondered what he looked like in his current state. You always told him he looked beautiful, but he wanted to see it for himself. He needed to remember to ask you next time to bring a mirror.

“Cum.”

Hyunjin’s eyelid twitched and the flood gates sprung open. Just like that, at the uttering of the word, ropes of his seed jetted onto your tongue. You had taken his tip back into your mouth just in the nick of time, and as he continued to cum, you sunk yourself further down his length. You went as far as you could, but with his semen filling your throat, you could only do so much.

You swallowed it all, holding back a cough as you let the bottom half of his shaft out of your mouth. The fat tip sat on your tongue for a moment, poking your right cheek again. Your tongue laved his malleable skin, feeling the faint veins in it. The salty, creamy essence was vaguely left in your mouth as he fell out of it with a wet ‘pop’. Rugged breaths and humidity clouded you as you felt your face growing warm.

Hyunjin was absolutely spent, his eyelids growing heavy. He was exhausted, and he only had two orgasms so far. He watched, in shock, as you reached for the gag in his mouth, wet to the touch from his saliva. You pulled it out from between his lips, and you took a second to admire the puffiness and redness in his lips. The faintest pink lines at the corners of his mouth made you smile. Gorgeous.

“Ready to use that pretty cock of yours, my love?”

He wasn’t. If you fucked him now he would be so sensitive. He would go insane. But a big part of him wanted to feel your insides so badly that he couldn’t think straight. Lust was the only thing that stayed consistent in his head, and it plagued his every thought. It plagued his lips as he spoke the first and only word that came to mind.

“Yes.”

— taglist #1

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[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Slacker // Tara Carpenter

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: you’ve been in love with tara for as long as you can remember, but you’ve always been too scared to make a move. when she starts dating chad, you feel like you’ve lost your chance to be with here.

warnings: language, angst, hurt no comfort, reader having a low self esteem in a few parts, crying, slight ooc tara at the end (she's a teeny bit mean)

word count: 3.2k

a/n: gn!reader

join my taglist! album masterlist!

I open the door to you, and never close it

You make me feel brand new

And now you're in my room, I hope you know that

There's nothin' I wouldn't do

“So… what’s going on with you? Something seems different. You like someone, don’t you?” you asked Tara, a teasing lilt in your voice. 

Tara had seemed different in the past few weeks. She was happier. Brighter. Which of course you were happy about, it’s not like you wanted your best friend to be miserable, but you hated thinking about someone else making her feel like this. You had been in love with her for so long, and the thought of seeing her in another relationship made your heart ache. But you knew that she wouldn’t stay single forever, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

“Maybe…” she replied, a shy smile growing on her face as her cheeks tinted pink.

You felt your heart shatter at just that one word, but you couldn’t let it show. You had to force a smile and pretend to be interested. Because that’s what best friends do. Tara didn’t know anything about your feelings for her, and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if she learned about your feelings for her, and didn’t ever want to find out. 

“Ooo, spill!” you smiled, rolling over on your bed to face Tara.

She shook her head and smiled, burying her face in her hands. 

“I dunno. I don’t think I should.”

You huffed in exasperation and rolled your eyes, the smile never disappearing from your face. “Seriously?! That was one time, and I was drunk! You know I would never intentionally tell your crush that you liked them. And besides, it ended up working out with Amber, didn’t it?”

“I guess… but if you tell him, I’m never telling you anything ever again!”

You smiled victoriuosly. “So, it’s a him?”

Tara groaned, throwing a pillow at you. “You’re insufferable!”

“Maybe. But you still love me.”

Tara smiled. “Unfortunately.”

You smiled, sitting up and throwing the pillow back at her. “So… who is it?”

Tara blushed harder and buried her face in her hands once more. “...Chad.”

I could’ve had her

But I guess I'm just a slacker

And maybe it wouldn't even matter

Of course she liked Chad. Of fucking course. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Not to mention Tara had known him for years before she ever met you. They had grown up together, and they had been through so much together. Of course she would fall for him. He was everything you weren’t. Attractive, confident, popular. He was perfect. Even if you tried, you couldn’t point out anything wrong with him. Which just made you even more upset. 

“Y/n…? Is everything alright?” Tara asked, nudging you.

You shook your head slightly as you tuned back into reality. “Hmm? Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Guess I just zoned out. So… Chad, huh?”

Tara nodded, a wide, lovesick smile on her face as she rambled on and on about him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention. Her words would only make you feel worse, and you were dealing with enough negative thoughts as it was. Instead you just focused on her. How beautiful she looked. That shine in her eyes as she talked about him. You wished she would talk about you like that. You wanted her to love you, not Chad. But some part of you just always knew that it would never happen. Tara never saw you as anything more than a friend, and nothing could ever change that. 

“Do you think he likes me? I mean I think he was flirting with me yesterday, but it’s Chad so…” Tara trailed off, looking at you hopefully.

“Well he does flirt with everyone. He’s just kinda like that,” you replied, immediately wanting to kick yourself when you saw the slightly deflated expression on Tara’s face.

Were you really that pathetic that you would turn your best friend away from someone she liked, and someone who you were pretty sure liked her too? You couldn’t do that to her. Sure, you might’ve been in love with her. But above all, you just wanted her to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with you. 

If it always ends in disaster

So I'm just a slacker

I'm just a slacker

“But, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s not like that with everyone. I think there could be something there. You should go for it,” you said, a sad smile on your face despite your best efforts to appear happy.

“Are you sure? What if he rejects me?”

You gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? No one in their right mind would ever reject you! I mean, you’re fucking perfect. You’re stunning, kind, caring, funny, thoughtful. You’re practically everyone’s dream girl.” You cut yourself off, realizing how you were talking about her and how close you were to accidentally revealing your feelings. “And besides, even if he did reject you, and that’s a big if, it’s Chad. He’s not gonna be a dick about it. He’d probably just pretend that nothing happened and would go right back to treating you like normal. You have nothing to lose.”

“You really think people see me like that?” Tara asked, a little bit skeptical of your kind words.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that everything you had said was exactly how you felt about her. “I know they do.”

Stars are in your eyes and mine won't focus

To me it's no surprise

And now I fantasize, of you and hope that

You won't realize

Well, she did it. Tara asked Chad out. And it had gone exactly like you had said it would. He liked her back and both of them were happier than you could ever remember seeing them. All because you did the right thing and pushed them together instead of being a selfish prick. So why did it still hurt so much? You should be happy for them, right?

But despite it all, you just couldn’t bring yourself to be. Just seeing the two of them together, seeing how happy Tara was with Chad, it made your stomach turn. She should be with you. You should be the one making her smile, the one holding her hand and kissing her goodnight. Chad didn’t deserve her. You did. You could treat her so much better than he ever could, but you knew that you would never get the chance to prove it. 

“What’s got you all grumpy?” Mindy asked, sitting down beside you on the couch and following your gaze to see what you were looking at. “Ohhh. You like Chad, don’t you?”

You shook your head, drawing your knees up to your chest as you let out a sigh. “That’s not it.”

Mindy gasped, her eyes widened as she turned to face you. “You like Tara. That’s what’s got you all upset. But I thought Chad said you were the one who convinced Tara to ask him out?”

You nodded, turning your head to look at her. “I did. She just looked so happy when she was talking about him, and I could tell he liked her too. I just- I didn’t want my unrequited feelings to get in the way of her being happy.”

“So you willingly decided to make yourself miserable just so she could be happy? Wow, you must really be smitten.”

“Yeah, I am. I think… I think I love her.”

“You know… it’s never too late,” Mindy said, nudging you with her elbow.

You sighed, turning your gaze back to Chad and Tara who were currently laughing uncontrollably over something he had said. “I think this time it might be.”

I could’ve had her

But I guess I'm just a slacker

And maybe it wouldn't even matter

“You really like him, don’t you?” you asked Tara, resting your head against your shoulder as the two of you sat in her bed.

“He’s… amazing. I don’t think I ever knew what it felt like to be in love before him. It’s like… it’s like he sees me for me. He’s not my missing piece, he makes who I already am better. He makes me want to be better. It’s like every day is a dream and it just keeps getting better.”

You raised an eyebrow and nudged her in the side. “Love?”

Tara’s eyes widened and her cheeks darkened as she realized what she said. “Oh, I uhm- I didn’t mean to say that. It just kinda slipped out, I guess.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you love him?”

Tara didn’t say anything for a while, and you were almost convinced she had fallen asleep, before she finally spoke up again. Her words piercing you like a knife entering your heart. 

“Yeah. I do. I love him. I know it’s only been a month, but I mean, I’ve known him forever. And when it’s right, you just know. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“It is…?”

“Yeah! I mean if it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve told Chad how I felt about him. You convinced me to go for it, and I’ve literally never been happier. I wouldn’t be with him if it wasn’t for you.”

You smiled and tried your hardest to stop your tears from falling. A month ago, you were convinced that you had done the right thing, that you should put Tara first, no matter how you felt about her. But now… now you wanted more than anything to go back to that night and convince her that Chad didn’t feel the same. Selfish as it may be, it would’ve been worth it to save you from the pain you were in right now. 

But you couldn’t go back. It was too late to change things. She was with Chad now. And there was nothing you could do about it. 

If it always ends in disaster

So I'm just a slacker

I'm just a slacker

“It’s never gonna stop hurting unless you tell her. I know that’s not what you wanna hear right now, but you need to tell her how you feel. Or you’re going to be stuck spending forever wondering if she ever felt the same. You’re never gonna be able to move on until you know,” Mindy said, frowning as she took in your disheveled state.

It had just been Chad and Tara’s three month anniversary, and they were still as happy as ever. You could barely hold back the tears that wanted to pour from your eyes as you watched them together. It was just too much. Seeing them together was too painful. And you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to take it. 

You had stormed off to your room, mumbling something about a headache, leaving everyone else in yours and Tara’s living room. Mindy had followed you, mumbling some other shitty excuse before rushing to go comfort you. But right now, her words weren’t making things any better. 

“You don’t understand, I can’t! I know she doesn’t feel the same. Okay? I know. Telling her how I feel is only going to make things worse. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable around me. I don’t want to lose how close we are. If there’s even the slightest chance that telling her I love her could push her away completely, I would rather take my feelings to the grave than risk having to spend my life without her.”

“But you’re miserable! You can only hide your feelings for so long, and it’s only gonna be worse the longer you wait,” Mindy said, sighing as you sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your sleeve. “Look, I’m not gonna force you into doing anything. But I know what unrequited love feels like. It sucks. And the longer you hold it in, the worse the pain is going to get.”

You didn’t say anything, laying down in your bed and pulling the blankets around you tighter. Mindy sat there for a few minutes, waiting for you to say something, but there was nothing left for you to say. You had done this to yourself, and now you had to deal with it.

“I’m gonna go back out there with everyone else. If you need anything, just text me, okay? I’m here for you.”

And oh, I know I've been holding this in for so long

Thinking of you every time I write a song

And I could’ve had her

“Is y/n okay?” Tara asked as soon as she saw Mindy.

“Huh? Oh yeah, they probably just ate something bad,” Mindy said, waving it off.

“I thought y/n said they had a headache?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

Mindy’s eyes widened, mentally cursing herself for her slip up. “Uhh, yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You’re not making any sense. I’m gonna go check on them,” Tara said, getting up and starting to walk down the hallway.

“Don’t!” Mindy shouted, grabbing Tara’s arm to try and stop her.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I- I can’t say,” Mindy sighed, reluctantly letting go of Tara, knowing that she had fucked up and that there wasn’t anyway to cover it up without seeming more suspicious. 

“I’m just gonna go make sure they’re okay,” Tara said, before turning to Chad and pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. “Be back soon.”

Tara started walking towards your bedroom, concern filling her from how mysterious Mindy had been. Something was definitely wrong, that’s for sure. But why was Mindy being so weird about it? What didn’t she want Tara to know? It was all so strange, but as Tara grew closer to her room, her concern multiplied tenfold from the muffled crying she heard coming from the other side of the door. 

But I wasn’t smart enough

And I’ll never ask her

If she’s still calling my bluff

Tara knocked on the door gently before pushing it open, peeking her head in to see you curled up in a ball on your bed, sobbing beneath the mound of blankets you buried yourself under. 

“Y/n…?” she asked, walking in and shutting the door behind her. 

Even underneath all of the blankets, Tara could still see your form tense at the sound of her voice, making her face fall. Was all of this because of her? Were you upset with her? Had she done something? She couldn’t think of anything that she could’ve possibly done to upset you like this, but that didn’t make your feelings any less real. 

Slowly you sat up, letting the blankets fall from your face. Your eyes were red and puffy. You looked utterly miserable. Tara frowned as she moved closer, sitting down beside you. You subtly shifted a bit away from her, which only made Tara’s frown deepen. 

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, sniffling as you hurriedly wiped your tears away. “I can’t tell you.”

“Y/n… it’s me. We tell each other everything. You can trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just- I can’t tell you…”

“Did I do something to upset you?”

You shook your head. 

“Is this about me and Chad?”

Without even having to say anything, Tara could tell by the subtle shift on your face that it was. You were upset about her and Chad. Why would you be upset about her and Chad? Oh. OH.

“Do you… like Chad? Is that why you’re upset?”

You shook your head, feeling more tears slip down your cheeks. “He’s not the one I like.”

“What do you mean? I don’t- Wait… do you like me? Is that what this is about?”

You nodded, your face heating up in embarrassment. You never wanted her to find out, let alone like this, but you couldn’t lie to her. She would see through you instantly. So you figured that it was better to just get it out, rip off the bandaid and deal with the heartache that you knew was coming. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too harsh about it. 

I could’ve had her

But I guess I'm just a slacker

And maybe it wouldn't even matter

“Oh. Well uh- talk about shitty timing,” Tara said, a sad laugh falling from her lips. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, expecting a lot of different reactions, but not that one. 

“I like you too. Or at least I did. Before Chad. A few months ago, when I told you I liked him, I definitely played up just how much I liked him. I guess I was trying to figure out if you liked me too.”

Your eyes widened at her words, your vision going black as you felt your head spin. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. You must’ve heard her wrong. She probably just rejected you, and your brain just twisted her words to help cope with the hurt, and it just somehow made it worse. 

“What…?”

“I liked you. I really really did. But I could never figure out if you felt the same. So I told you I liked Chad, which I did, but barely. And then you pushed me to go for it. I just assumed that you didn’t feel the same. Because if you did, then why would you push so hard for me to be with someone else?”

“Because I wanted you to be happy! Seeing you get with Chad crushed me. Tara, I’ve been in love with you for years. I just gave up on anything happening because you never paid attention to me like that. I didn’t want to sabotage a chance for you to be happy just because I knew it was going to hurt me.”

“You were really willing to suffer just so I could be happy?”

You scoffed and gestured to yourself. “I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happening right now. I had the chance to be with you and I blew it. This is just great.”

“I’m sorry. I forced myself to get over you, and now I’m with Chad and… things just feel so right. I never meant to hurt you, y/n. Trust me, I had no idea what this would do to you. And if I had known all this back then, things might’ve been different. But now…”

“Now you’re with Chad. And there’s absolutely zero chance that you’ll leave him for me. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, y/n. I love him. And I just don’t feel like that about you anymore. But you’re still my best friend, and nothing is going to change that. I didn’t want things to happen like things, and I’m so sorry it ended up like this. But it’s too late. I’m with Chad now, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.”

You opened your mouth to respond when there was another knock on your door as Chad pushed the door open and poked his head in. 

“Is everything alright in here?” he asked, his eyes locked on Tara’s even though you were the one who needed checking up on.

Tara nodded and stood up, walking over to him. “Just perfect.”

If it always ends in disaster

So I'm just a slacker

I'm just a slacker

tags: @Hocksetters @hyeyulove @shad-ade

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