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#embellished evening dress
toyastales · 2 months
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SCHIAPARELLI
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sawa-soon · 2 months
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Cucculelli Sheen
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rosemaze-reveries · 4 months
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i had a dream about fellowyuu (im too far gone i fear)
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dozydawn · 2 years
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The diamond drops of Kristi Yamaguchi, 1990-1992.
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aworldofpattern · 2 years
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Lily of the valley embroidered evening gown by Tati of Milan, c. 1965
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vikkates · 1 year
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New pieces I would like The Princess of Wales to add to her wardrobe (1,225/?)
Dress by Jenny Packham
This would look great for an evening reception or maybe certain premieres.
Available here.
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violettini · 2 years
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Valentino Fall 2022 Couture
Photo: Salvatore Dragone/Gorunway.com
Source: vogue.com
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mahoganygold213 · 1 year
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Georges Hobeika| Fall Winter 2023/24 Vamp
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modafashioncouture · 2 years
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Mugler Spring 1998 Couture
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Mouni Roy, In A Mystic Blue Gown At The NMACC Inauguration | Photos
Actress #MouniRoy who is known to stun everyone with her fashion and style, once again, managed to amaze us with her look. Her attire for the event was simply on point
Numerous Bollywood stars and A-listers attended the Nita Mukesh Ambani Culture Centre (NMACC) opening, which was a huge triumph. Even a few foreign celebrities attended the lavish affair. From Salman Khan, Varun Dhawan, Shah Rukh Khan, Ranveer Singh, Deepika Padukone, Kiara Advani and Sidharth Malhotra, Kriti Sanon, Alia Bhatt, Priyanka Chopra, Nick Jonas to Mouni Roy, and others, many stars…
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View On WordPress
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silversashay · 2 years
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Valentino Fall 2022 Couture
Photo: Salvatore Dragone/Gorunway.com
Source: vogue.com
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lightdarkly · 2 years
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Valentino Fall 2022 Couture
Photo: Salvatore Dragone/Gorunway.com
Source: vogue.com
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colorisbyshe · 1 month
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I just came across a tweet saying that Aaron Bushnell--the man who burned himself to death while yelling Free Palestine until he couldn't anymore--will be "in the history books" and that phrase has been coming up a lot. And it chafes me every time I read it, every time I hear it.
Cause, a. no, a lot of this won't be in the American history books. American atrocities, especially those overseas but even those against American people (especially American people of color), don't go in the literal history books. Or the figurative ones. Most American atrocities are wiped from the collective memory... sometimes as soon as they happen. They go unreported (like the first person to self immolate to protest this genocide), they go erased, they go whitewashed, they go falsely recontextualized, and they get twisted into pro-America sentiment--we were right for those atrocities, we were wrong for them but we learned, we didn't learn from it but we felt bad about it and should be comforted for that soreness.
And b. is harder to verbalize but I'm gonna try. It feels... performative in the literal sense. Like we only value what is happening today out of deference for how people in the future will perceive it. We aren't doing anything to change anything NOW, to care about other people NOW, but so that one day... we'll be remembered a caring. Like this man killed himself as gesture, as a move for his legacy.
And I see this phrase--"this will be remembered in the history books"--whipped out in extremely horrific contexts. A child's dead body hanging off a wall, "oh, this will be in the history books." What does that even mean? Was her death worth the historical context? Was it necessary to embellish the horror of it all?
Would the people reading these hypothetical history books not get the wrongness of the genocide without the death of a little girl that you're using as... window dressing?
It just seems so weirdly self satisfied. Like you're eager to note you just witnessed a real moment that people will remember decades from now. When... a lot of people won't which is what is so tragic. A lot of people don't even know it's happening right now.
Because, again, it's not being reported. And when it is being reported it's not being reported honestly.
I'm not saying this well but it just feels like such a gross reaction to things we're seeing in real time.
Why does it have to matter later to matter now? Why is the hypothetical reaction of a history book reader the thing you think about?
A lot of people won't live to read those "history books" because people, right now, aren't doing anything to help them.
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sparklingchim · 2 months
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you're losing me 02 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 5k
genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance
rating: 18+
warnings: pregnancy scare, mean possessive jungkook 😾, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fingerig, choking, oc gets her hands tied bc she's a brat ! ☝🏼, blowjob, cum eating, car sex, teasingg, tipsy oc, v vulnerable oc :(, dirty talk, daddy kink, crying, one boob bite methinks
summary: having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.
a/n: it's finally here !! i hope u like it hihi <3
you're losing me masterlist
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Chanyeol never misses with his Halloween parties.
And usually, you never miss with your costumes too, but given the circumstance you’re glad to even attend.
Truthfully, it was entirely your own fault, and you hate to admit it because you had been extremely excited to wear your customised Barbie doll outfit, but one spill of your wine and the dress was disastrously ruined.
So you had to come up with a spontaneous Plan B.
You finally found usage for the small Victoria Secret wings from their special collection you received during a fashion show. Cinching a lace-embellished corset from Dolce & Gabbana, you paired it with a flirty ruffled miniskirt from Chanel. Your hair was crowned with crystal-embellished hairpins by Jennifer Behr. And oh, those satin heels by Jimmy Choo, adorned with dazzling crystals, added the perfect dose of sparkle to the outfit. You think you might’ve redefined last minute-magic.
“You’re trending on Twitter.”
As you sit on the couch, reaching down to retrieve the ping pong ball for Eunwoo turn at beer pong, Chanyeol abruptly shoves his phone in front of you. His screen is showing the trending page on Twitter.
“Didn’t realise my costume is that cute.” You look down on yourself. It’s a basic costume, but you would have thought that Chanyeol’s vampire look gained more attention.
“Your outfit’s cute, but everyone’s talking about what you posted on your Story,” Chanyeol remarks. He taps on your name trending and scrolls through a myriad of Tweets, with people reposting the picture.
“Oh.”
Eunwoo peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and reads the Tweets. He chuckles. “Everyone’s just talking about how hot we look.”
You giggle, swatting his arm.
You didn’t expect a little mirror pic creating chaos to this extent.
It was just a funny coincidence seeing Eunwoo dressed up in a matching costume to in a devil costume, complete with fitting horns and wings, creating an impromptu couple costume. It was his idea to take a picture.
You probably should have considered that Eunwoo is a rising idol and actor. Everyone adores him. And seeing him photographed next to a girl off-screen, especially when it’s not for a highly anticipated KBS drama, might not sit well with everyone.
“Has your hubby seen it?” Chanyeol asks.
You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? He does regularly check what I post.” But he told you how busy he is today, so you’re not sure if he saw.
“Have you thought about my offer, by the way?” Eunwoo asks.
“What offer?” Chanyeol curiously chimes in.
“The lead role in my next drama. They're srill looking for an actress and honestly, I think ___ would be incredible for this one.”
Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide. “You two in a drama? That’s insane.”
“I’ve never tried acting. Not sure if I’d be any good,” you confess,
“I feel like you’re good at anything,” Chanyeol assures with a grin.
“I’ll think about it.”
They both resume playing beer pong with the others while you watch them as you drink.
As you take a sip from your drink, the weight of lingering gazes persists – less intense than in the beginning, yet a subtle scrutiny remains.
The curious looks undoubtedly trace back to the headlines two weeks ago, when pictures of Jungkook and you in his car near the gynaecologist’s building surfaced online. Captured in a vulnerable moment, perched on Jungkook’s lap with tears streaming down your face, you know how it must’ve looked like to the public.
You couldn’t stand those pictures making the rounds, especially with you in tears.
~
2 weeks ago
“You don’t need to worry.” Jungkook gently traces his thumb over the back of your hand.
You huff, frowning at your interlaced fingers. “But I do worry.”
“Love, if you are potentially-”
“Don’t say it!” you cut him off. “Hearing the word makes me more anxious.”
You hear him utter an exhausted sigh. “You said yourself that your period has been irregular in the past.”
“Yeah, minus the morning sickness.” Your tone is a bit sharp, maybe even sassy, and you don’t actually want it to come off that way and in another circumstance you’d feel guilty, but you’re too drained from your emotions and the conversation to care.
“But the tests you took were negative,” he tries again.
“It’s just plastic. I can’t trust it.”
You took countless of pregnancy tests weekly, filled up the bathroom bin with those stupid little things until you finally acquiesced to Jungkook’s persistent suggestion to schedule an appointment with your gynaecologist.
The slow traces on your hand come to a halt. His fingers lightly squeeze your chin, directing your gaze at him.
“I promise you, whatever the outcome is we’ll make the best of it.”
“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay calm,” you say, eyebrows arching at his composed demeanour.
In truth, this is an authentic depiction of your relationship dynamic. You deal with lots of anxiety, always have been, and Jungkook stands as the serene counterbalance – tranquil and calm, akin to a gentle, silent breeze sweeping over your arms just as it gets unbearably hot in summer and you’re out of options to cope with the temperature.
But this is concerning you both and you can’t grasp the ease with which he handles the plaguing situation.
“Either outcome won’t change anything drastically.”
You head turns to the side and your stare out the windscreen, a hint of pique evident as your tongue pokes your cheek.
“I don’t want a baby.” It’s barely a whisper under your breath. “But you want one.” Your eyes flutter back to him.
Thinking about it, it dawns on you that a potential pregnancy would undoubtedly bring joy to everyone in your life. Especially your dad, who has been eagerly anticipating it for years – bugging you about it almost every time you see him. However, at 24 you have dreams beyond motherhood. The thought of being tied down to it now fills you with a quiet sense of unease.
You know that Jungkook views it differently. It’s understandable; he is 31, and despite mutually agreeing to wait for a baby, for him it’s not the end of the world. His calm demeanour, shaped by having navigated through a previous marriage and bringing a wealth of life experience, contrasts with your apprehension.
Jungkook hesitates. “I do want a baby,” he confirms, a shadow of regretful longing crossing his face. “But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the result is, I will support it – I will support your decision.” Upon squeezing your bare thigh, he realises how cold you are. “Love, you’re freezing.” He fetches a fuzzy blanket from the backseat that he keeps there just for you. He tucks you under the comfy blanket.
“It’s ‘cause I’m scared,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat.
“Come here.” He softly anchors his hands on your hips and guides you to his lap. “It pains me to see you like this.” He wraps the blanket around you tighter. “You don’t wanna go in there and get this done quickly? Avoiding the inevitable messes with your headspace.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
Jungkook mindlessly cups your cheek, tatted knuckle skimming over your skin.
Maybe it’s the way he peers at you. With a gentle shimmer reflecting sheer fondness and poised to unfold the world at your feet, build a home for you wherever your finger points to without having to ask. Maybe it’s the way he is holding you to himself, his hands serving as a protective embrace, a shield warding off any harm that would dare come your way. Or maybe it’s the tall, daunting building on the side of the road, towering over you like a spectre of uncertainty.
But something brings tears to your eyes – making you grow smaller and younger and suddenly fragile.
“My love,” Jungkook utters tenderly. It fills you with warmth and so much love.
Worry contorts his face. His hand around you holds you tighter.
“I’m not gonna cry.” It serves more as a reassurance for yourself than for him.
“You know you can when you’re with me.”
You refuse, adamantly shaking your head. But when you lose control over the tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face into his neck.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, adding a small peck to your temple. “It’s okay to feel this way.”
“Don’t like it,” you murmur into his now tears stained skin.
“But there’s no point in denying it.”
“There’s just...so much. All at once.” You lean back a bit, finger pointing right to your heart.
“I know, love.” He gingerly caresses your back. He softens at your trembling bottom lip, a piece of his own heart falling apart upon seeing you vulnerable on his lap. “I’ll carry everything you can’t, remember?” It’s a vow that formed the foundation of your shared existence. In the quiet assurance of his voice, he continues, “I’ll carry your worries, your fears, your doubts.” His promise is a soothing melody in the symphony of your shared moment. “As long as we talk – communicate properly, this won’t be difficult.”
“But we do talk,” you reply, scrunching your stuffy nose. “No?”
“Yeah, I know.” He nods, thumbing away the tear from the corner of your eye. “But I need you to be honest with me regarding this. No hiding your thoughts from me.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re ready now?” Jungkook asks. As much as he comforts you, traces of curiosity glimmer in his eyes.
“I think so.”
“There’s nothing to worry.” Jungkook smiles in that boyish and lovely way that it coaxes a weak smile on your face.
~
Jungkook had been right the whole time. You weren’t pregnant.
There had been nothing to worry.
You’re still in awe at how he never doubted his feeling. He just knew you weren’t pregnant – typical Jungkook, always has this uncanny grasp on things, like an innate ability.
Your gynaecologist attributed it to a lack of vitamins and advised better hydration.
Jungkook, feeling more than a tad guilty, bombards you with constant reminders to take your vitamins, drink and eat even more than he used to.
“Is that Jeon Jungkook?” A hushed female voice utters to the person beside her.
As you gaze upward, your eyes lock onto Jungkook in the back of the crowd. A flutter dances through your heart at the mere sight of him.
Jungkook’s presence demands every ounce of attention as people instantly recognise him. He’s draped entirely in black. His pants temptingly cling to his thighs, the buttons of his shirt straining across his chiselled chest and strong arms. His Rolex sits prettily around his wrist, it’s gleam harmonising with the brilliance of his wedding ring.
And you find it so funny, silly almost, because this is just Jungkook in his work attire, you see him like this every day, and yet people’s eyes morph into tiny hearts as he effortlessly strolls by, leaving a trail of heated admiration.
Sometimes Jungkook has a way of teasing your sanity. He turns your life into a whimsical romance, making you wonder if you’re living in a silly, sappy romance movie with the dreamiest guy as the lead. Because in this fleeting moment, the world around you dissolves into a blur, and you see nothing but him. Everyone fades, except him.
“Jungkook!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your heels. He immediately wraps his hands around your sides.
“Hi, love.” He kisses you softly.
You missed his sweet, gentle voice when he talks to you.
He rakes a stare over you, one brow arched. “You’re already drunk? Who’s been giving you drinks?”
You deny his question with a dragged out “no”. “Just a bit tipsy – if even.” Before he can comment anything else regarding how many drinks you’ve already had, you ask, “Where’d you get these cute horns from?” Your hand reaches for the hairband with two attached red horns on them.
“Don’t know the brands name. Just a cheap store down the street from the company.”
You tilt your head as you ponder. “I don’t know of any cheap store close to the company.”
A ping pong ball rolls towards you on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve the ball, Jungkook’s hand pulls you back by the waist and he picks it up himself. His possessive hand travels to your butt and he slides his palm over the ruffles of your skirt.
“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” he whispers into your ear. He throws the little ball towards the other end of the table. You shake your head, not really comprehending what he’s implying. Your more focused on how he effortlessly threw the ping pong ball straight into the cup.
“Yah, Jungkook! Come here, I need you in my team right now!” Chanyeol yells.
Jungkook lets out a humourless laugh. “Has Eunwoo not been good enough?”
Eunwoo sends a glare his way. “Chanyeol’s just taking everything too seriously.”
Jungkook rolls up his sleeve. “Too good that I’m also competitive.”
~
When Jungkook has enough of beer pong after carrying his team every round, he sits down next to you, pulling you to his lap.
You were just talking with Jisoo about the newest Dior collection, but she leaves the two of you alone with a knowing smile.
Jungkook swiftly takes the partially filled cup from your grasp and places it on the table. “You’ve had plenty to drink tonight.”
“I didn’t drink that much.” You don’t know exactly how much you drank because maybe you had too much to count, but you won’t tell him.
Jungkook cocks his head. He doesn’t need you to tell him to know.
“Get up.” His palms push your lower back.
“Huh?” You play with his necktie, leaning closer to his body. “For what?”
A crooked, entertained smirk crosses his face. “For what?” he scoffs.
His tatted arm snakes around you, his rolled-up sleeve flaunting the pretty inked lines adorning his skin. Jungkook grips you close to him. He angles your face down, his lips brushing over the sensitive part of your neck until he reaches your ear.
“Gonna fuck your brainless in my car. That’s why.”
His voice has got that pretty husky rasp you love so much. Tingles spread everywhere, especially your pussy. Jungkook sucks your earlobe between his teeth, and you think you can feel his smile when an unintended moan bubbles up your throat. You squirm in his lap.
“Someone’s got excited,” he teases as his hands run up your thigh, thumb disappearing underneath the white material of your skirt.
“Don’t.” Your fingers fly to his wrist. “There are people.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now you care about people watching?”
Your lips pull together in a confused pout.
“You never notice, do you?” He decided against sneaking his finger further between your legs. Instead, he smoothens the hiked-up fabric of your skirt, though there is not much to adjust. It’s a skimpy skirt, it barely covers you.
“Notice what?” Your sparkly heels distract you and you move your feet around, watching every crystal glitter. “You’re being confusing, Koo.”
“I’m not being confusing,” he denies.
“Yes, you are.” You shift your gaze to him. A subtle crease appears between your brows. “You told me you didn’t have time for a silly Halloween party and yet you showed up.”
Jungkook dislikes seeing you upset. He really does. It creates this unexplainable feeling of protectiveness that sits right behind his rib – annoying and intolerable, coupled with a hint of guilt. But seeing your tipsy form upset delights him the tiniest bit.
“I was able to finish off early,” he explains. “Thought I’d join you, ‘cause you wanted me to.”
“And you were pretty mean to Eunwoo.”
“He can fuck off. I really don’t care about him.” His tongue peaks out as he swipes it over his bottom lip, teeth biting at the skin with furrowed brows.
“You’re such a meanie sometimes.” You run your fingers over his eyebrows, relaxing them.
“Want me to show you how mean I can be?” He tilts his head, a challenging glint in his eyes.
“You can’t be mean to me,” you say, shaking your head as your fingers settle on his broad shoulders. “Been good today.”
“You’ve been driving me insane tonight.”
“Me? What did I do?”
Jungkook rises to his feet with you, and you stagger a little at the sudden movement, but he keeps a safe arm around you. “Always so clueless,” he mumbles as he leads you through the crowd.
“___!” someone yells your name.
You stop when you see Karina rushing towards you.
“I’ve been looking for you all night!” She hands you a drink
You look at her through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving already. I’ll see you soon!”
Jungkook takes the drink from you after you had a sip and downs the whole thing. He tosses the cup into a near trashcan as you step out of the house.
“Oh, no. I told Eunwoo I’d give him my number,” you remember. “Lemme go back.”
But Jungkook’s hand on the small of your back remains firm.
“He’s not stupid. He’ll find a way to contact your manager.” Jungkook is pissed and you’re not quite sure if you heard it right, but you think he adds a small “Doesn’t need my wife’s number.”.
“Can you imagine me in a drama?” You giggle as you think about it. “Would you watch it?” You turn your head. “You don’t like watching dramas.”
“Of course, I’d watch it. Immediately.”
Your eyes spark up and Jungkook wants to have this image of your forever ingrained in his memory. A literal angel staring at him as if he was the one that hung up the stars.
You stumble over your heels when you refuse to look ahead, pretty eyes still admiring him. “Careful, love.” He quickly steadies you.
He unlocks his car when you reach it and opens the door to the backseat for you. But instead, you pull open the passenger door and bend over to open the glove compartment.
“Are there condoms left here?”
You search for the familiar package, but Jungkook hurriedly pulls you back, shutting it closed along with the car door.
“Nothing left,” he replies. “Get in the backseat.”
As you get into the car and settle on your back, you ponder, “Didn’t realise how many times we’ve fucked in the car.”
You're not particularly interested in cars, but in rare – or apparently not so rare – moments like these, you appreciate the spaciousness of Jungkook’s G-Wagon.
Before Jungkook joins you in the car, he scans the surroundings, vigilant for any lingering onlookers. He doesn’t need you on the front page of every media outlet again. You’ve had enough of that lately, and that darn Instagram Story of yours likely fuelled the gossip mill again.
Jungkook barely uses social media. You’re the only reason he has the apps on his phone. He doesn’t follow anyone except you, only has your notifications on. During a short break he mindlessly clicked on the Instagram notification, expecting a cute picture of your angel outfit – you had texted him complaining about your ruined Barbie dress and he suggested you could use the angel wings he once saw you carrying into your wardrobe.
Safe to stay he expected everything, but a picture with fucking Eunwoo wearing fucking matching costumes.
As hours passed by, his anger didn’t simmer; instead, it prompted his decision to make a swift trip to the dollar store and join you at the party.
“You tend to conveniently forget when you’re a needy brat.”
“It’s ´cause I’m not a brat,” you reply with a huff, yanking at his tie. “Just a bit needy sometimes.”
“Hmm, just a bit needy?” His knuckle follows along your jaw, teasing you with his gentle touches and the mock sympathy seeping from his tone.
You look so cute lying here for him, with the angel wings peeking from your sides and the little sparkly pins adorning your hair. He just wants to fuck you silly.
You nod pliantly. An innocent smile blossoms on your face.
Jungkook’s hand disappears under the ruffles of your skirt, middle finger sliding over your pussy. You gasp, body twitching at the sudden touch.
“So wet already?” he sneers. “All for me?”
You grind your pussy against him, hungry for more.
“And so greedy for me.” He spreads your pussy lips, gently rubbing the pad of his finger over your sensitive clit. Jungkook moves your skirt up and an immediate glint surfaces in his eyes. “So pretty.” He slips two fingers in, smirking when you shake beneath him. “Baby’s sensitive, huh?”
He pumps his fingers into you and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The alcohol running through your veins heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Everywhere he touches leaves a shimmering trail of tingles, enveloping your body in a cloud of euphoria, a sensation both fuzzy and dreamy.
“I want you.” You reach for his cock, but Jungkook seizes your wrist.
“Did I say you could touch?” His voice drips with condescension.
You weakly shake your head, a frustrated whine accompanying it.
“Use your big girl words.” His fingers stop moving and he completely removes them when you remain silent. “C’mon,” he urges, growing more impatient.
“No, you didn’t,” you sulk. Even dare to look at him through a frown.
“You don’t get to do anything," he tells you. He loses hie tie, wraps it around your wrist in a swift, practiced motion and ties them above your head. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.” He pulls his pants and briefs down, stroking his hard cock before he teasingly nudges his tip against your clit.
You watch him play with your pussy and you’re unable to keep the desperate moans from leaving your mouth, eagerly waiting until he aligns his cock to your entrance, slowly filling you up with his entire length. A throaty moan reverberates when he’s all the way in.
“Pussy’s so good at taking me.”
A gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out. “So good,” you mumble.
Jungkook waits until he knows you’re used to h is size before he starts moving his hips.
Your tits move in the confines of your corset. Jungkook’s head dips down and you feel his tongue slide over the swell of your boobs that peek out, teeth slightly grazing over your skin.
“Don’t bite,” you utter between moans.
But Jungkook does exactly that. Even sucks on your skin a little bit.
“You think you have a say on anything?” His hand squeezes your face. Traces of petulance lie in your eyes. His other hand grips your hips, fingers buried in your skin to fuck you fast.
It’s almost ridiculous how fast Jungkook gets you to your high. He knows exactly what to do to get your walls clamp around his cock, begging him to give you just a little bit more to push you off the edge.
“Don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes falling closed as you the pleasure builds up in your tummy.
But then Jungkook suddenly stops moving. You open your eyes to find Jungkook smirking at your trembling body, amused when a shaky breath escapes you.
“Why would you do that? I was close!”
He pulls his cock out, tapping it over your clit.
“Hmm, no idea why I would do that?” he asks, pushing his cock back into your pussy in one swift motion.
“I haven’t done anything,” you say meekly, staring at the way he slowly fucks you. He could make you cum so easily.
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “Can’t recall anything bad you did?”
He picks up on his pace and you can’t think at all, barely able to shake your head as more breathless moans fly past your lips.
“Posting a couple costume picture online? Fuck, ___ what were you thinking?” He hooks his hands underneath your thighs, pulling them up to fuck deeper. “Wanted everyone talking about you two? Wanted to piss me off?”
“No,” you whine. “Didn't mean it that way. We- we didn’t plan on it at all. Just – when we saw each other it was really funny, and I just took a pic of it.” You’re a babbling mess at this point, the ability to form comprehensible sentences gone once Jungkook sticked his cock in you.
“I don’t fucking care,” he curses. “You know how people perceive this stuff.”
“You don’t... don’t think it was a silly coincidence?”
Jungkook is flush against you. Your nails dig into your palms at how deep his cock is buried in you.
“I should find it silly?” A deep glower settles on his face and in a sick, naughty way it turns you on, making your pussy involuntarily squeeze around his cock. “Fuck, ___, do you wanna cum at all?”
“No, please,” you fuss desperately. “Wanna cum.”
“Then start behaving. Quit being a brat.”
“I am good,” you try to convince him.
Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal. “Put on an angel costume and yet you’re such a dirty girl.”
While you may not encapsule the right persona regarding the angel outfit, Jungkook undoubtedly fucks you like the devil. So mean and selfish, teasing and cursing at you.
“Wanna be – wanna be good for daddy.”
“Yeah?” he breathes, hand travelling up your body until it reaches your throat. “Then don’t disappoint me.” With his shiny Rolex around his wrist, he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tiniest bit. You feel the familiar outline of his wedding ring press to your skin.
Your legs wrap around him and you try not to poke him with your heels, but tears obstruct your view and you can barely control yourself, the aching feeling to come undone is back in your tummy.
“Jungkook,” you utter between little desperate puffs. “Wanna cum so bad.”
“Only when I allow you to.” Jungkook looks down at your defeated, crushed face with a smug smirk. “Can do that, right? My wife’s capable of that, hmm?”
Your eyes flutter shut. A single tear rolls down the corner of your eye. “Yes, I – I can wait.”
“That’s my good girl.” He leans closer, whispering it into your ear. “Cock so good it’s making you cry, huh?” His lips press to the corner your eye and he kisses your tear away.
The more he talks and whispers dirty word into your ear, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to pull yourself back and cum on his dick. But you want to be good for Jungkook, want to hear him praise you for being a patient girl.
“Slow down, please.” Your bound wrists unconsciously attempt to free themselves, but Jungkook’s knot is too tight for you to undo it. You’ll cum soon if he continues at this pace.
“Nuh-uh.” He denies firmly. “You can take it. Show me how good you are.” His fingers dig deeper into your throat and your eyes open again. His brows are furrowed, an angry flush tinting his cheeks. “That’s it. Look at me – look at me when you cum.”
It crosses your mind to secretly cum, but Jungkook’s got a knack for spotting your telltale signs, so it wouldn’t be that sneaky after all. You did try to do that once though. You couldn’t properly sit the next day.
Jungkook swipes his tongue over his thumb before he slips his hand between your legs and starts to slowly circle your clit. A devilish grin sparks up his face.
“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?”
“Please.”
“Wanna cum all over my cock?” His thumb moves faster. “Make a little mess?”
“Yes,” you pant. Pleasure seeps through your entire body and the effort to ignore the feeling becomes so exhausting, more tears fill your eyes.
“Then cum for me,” Jungkook demands, keeping a gentle trace in his voice. His gaze remains on your face and he watches you with greedy eyes as you come undone beneath him.
It happens almost instantly, like a string that snapped. You’re body shakes as your orgasm rumbles through you and you’re so sensitive you want to yank his hand away fromyour clit, but Jungkook enjoys seeing your writhe way too much to stop playing with your nub.
Shaky breaths escape you. Jungkook fucks you slower now, still rolling his hips into you with precision to hit your sweet spot.
“Doing so good, love.” The hand on your throat moves to your face, swiping away the tears. “So good for me.”
And just as you’re about to tell him you’re too sensitive, Jungkook removes his finger from your clit and pulls his cock out. He sits down and pats your thigh. “Come here.”
Despite being tired from just cumming, you’re hungry for him just by the sight of Jungkook stroking his cock. You move to sit on your thighs, tied up hands on your lap.
Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand before he moves your head down. “Open wide,” he instructs, guiding his wet cock into your mouth.
You taste yourself on his dick as your slide your tongue around him. Jungkook is close to cumming. You can feel it in the way his he impatiently pushes your head further down his cock.
“Gonna cum in your mouth.” Tiny moans fill your ear and you take as much of him inside your mouth as you can. “Fuck, just like that.”
Your mouth fills with hot, salty cum and you continue bobbing your head up and down, getting every drop of it.
“Good girl.” Jungkook pulls you away from his cock. You swallow his load as you look at him. He hums approvingly. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, untying the know from your wrists. He rubs his fingers over the red marks.
“I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.” Your eyes close when he pecks your forehead.
After he pulls up his pants and briefs, Jungkook checks his phone. His fingers are quick as he types something.
“Who’s texting you at this hour,” you ask, curiously peeking over his arm.
“Just work. I left a bit abruptly.” He tucks his phone away before you can read anything.
Before more questions can leave your lips, he meets yours in a sweet kiss.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, patting your hair to tame the mess on your head. “Once we’re home, I’m gonna give your ass the attention it hasn’t got yet.”
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20thcenturystarlet · 9 months
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1940s evening dress with 3D strawberry embellishments 🍓
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qilinism · 25 days
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aventurine collects your debt (another way)
[nsfw]. like they say go big or go home confidence is key here guys (i’d cry too tbh)
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you find him at the casino.
your casino, before the ipc had come and run it to the ground, along with every other business your family had owned in this world — crushed beneath the weight of taxes, tallying up to a century's worth of unpaid debt now imposed by this foreign corporation. 
he seems to be having fun though, you think dejectedly, as you scan the brightly lit room, where the blonde haired male now sits in the middle of it all, engrossed within a game of poker, chips piled high by his side. you can only watch as golden coins are exchanged between hands and cash is pocketed, knowing its profits will never reach you. 
everything belongs to the ipc now. they’ll soon drain this world dry and move on to things with greater promise, as you look hopelessly at the business card he had handed you earlier, embellished with the logo of the ipc and his name written in curling golden letters on the other side — aventurine. 
“aventurine.” the name rolls from your tongue quietly, trying to hide the slight tremor in your voice — you’re still unsure of this whole affair, as you approach him. 
the game pauses. 
aventurine lifts his head, glancing up at you. his lips pull up into a smile a moment later, his purple eyes gleaming. “ah miss y/n, we meet again.” 
he knows you — your type, barging in to negotiate as if another singular conversation would lift the debt on your families, to change the mind of the ipc. perhaps the spirit is there, but truly you have no grasp on any business, nothing more than a girl who had grown up among riches, who now had the world crashing down around her, seeking him out in desperation. 
you’re all clueless, and willing to do anything — this the first time in your life where you’ve struggled, despaired even, at the uncertainties of the future which had once been promised to you. 
“this game is over.” he tells the others crowded around, throwing a bag of gold onto the table. they scatter immediately, scooping up any loose coins before disappearing out the door. 
some spare you an almost pitying glance, as they pass you on the way to the door, leaving you alone with aventurine. 
he gets up from his seat at the table and walks over to a nearby couch, plopping himself down with a sigh. he pats the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit down. 
begrudgingly you sit, careful not to let your dress ride up. 
“i’ll have you know there is little i can do for your situation.” aventurine sighs, lounging back, his arm splayed across the back of the couch. 
you look pretty today, he thinks, swept up in a short dress that hugs your figure. there’s something about you that gives off regality, despite the slow collapse of it all he’s to witness — he’s surprised you’re keeping it together still. 
“i know but,” you swallow. “there is something right? can’t you pull some strings? this isn’t right— this must be a mistake, they should reinvestigate this. my family has always been honest and paid their taxes, it doesn’t make sense for all this to happen all of a sudden.” 
he huffs. “of course i can pull strings, but that comes at a price, one that many aren’t willing to pay.” 
“we can pay it.” you blurt, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “we still have some money left in savings—”
“uhuh” he places his finger on your lips as if to silence you, and you pause, a confused expression crossing your face. “not that price. it’s not something able to be bought. you can’t buy a lot of things these days i suppose; loyalty, respect, sincerity all that.” 
“don’t cry.” he adds, as he notices your face fall, almost as if it offers any consolation to your situation — to himself even. he knows he’s a terrible person, having committed countless sins to get to the position he sits in now.
“what do i do then?” you glance up at him, looking almost hopelessly lost. but he can see the faint flicker in your eyes, that’s still willing to blindly sacrifice. you really are clueless — so much, it’s almost endearing. perhaps he is to offer his guidance. 
“i really do like you y/n, you know.” aventurine offers you a look, a pitying one almost. but alas, you can never truly tell what intention brews behind those eyes. “it really would be a shame to see someone like you lose everything like this.” 
“you’re quite a pretty thing aren’t you?” he murmurs in your ear, hot breath tickling your neck as his cold hand slides across your exposed thighs, eliciting a quiet gasp from you. “and what can i say to a damsel in distress after all? i can’t let her leave unhappy.” 
“aventurine—” you don’t recall how you ended up sitting atop his lap, his mouth trailing across your bare neck as his free hand slides beneath your dress, toying with the band of your panties, before pulling it aside. 
“shh relax.” he silences your muffled cry with his own mouth, lips meeting your own as he slides a finger into you — then another, there’s tears watering your eyes again as your walls clench around him, soft whimpers escaping you as he pushes them further in. “you’re so tight, let me fix that.” 
truly he does think you’re pretty, from your first meeting where you had stood as an elegant figure of ethereal grace — he had not thought such a treasure existed in such far flung corners of the universe. and now, he sees you laid out before him, face flushed, in likeness to a fragile porcelain doll he handles carefully, lest you break amid the tears that stream down your face. 
his free hand pulls down the zipper of your dress, you shiver — revealing the full flush of your figure, his mouth trailing past your collarbone, down to your exposed breasts, his tongue flicking out as if to savour the feeling of your bare skin, a low moan of satisfaction escaping him. do you know you smell so heavenly? so divine? 
it’s inviting. he thinks maybe you look prettier when you cry, tipping your head back as he curls a finger against that sweet spot inside you, his name pushing past your lips. 
yet even such a sight is not enough for him — one who seeks the most grandiose spectacles after all. he’s not a selfless man, looking only to pleasure you. you had been the one that had come to him begging, owing him a debt that has yet to be repaid. and had he not taken that opportunity for himself? 
you just make it all the more tempting for him, as he pulls his fingers out from you, denying you. you seem to shudder at the loss, vacantly staring as he licks your arousal from his fingers. it’s sweet, he thinks. 
he unbuckles his belt, letting it slip to the floor with a clink, snapping you from your daze. there’s a brief moment of hesitation that seems to flash across your eyes at the sight of his hardened length. but you seem to get the hint, remembering who it is you serve — perhaps you aren’t entirely clueless after all. 
your eyes flutter shut as you swallow back a gulp, sinking down on his cock, your breaths shaky and haggard, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as if to stifle your cry, as a groan rumbles in his own chest. “fuck.. you feel so good.” 
“look at me baby.” he gasps, pulling you from his chest, fingers tangling themselves in your hair, violet irises dancing, as he rolls his hips against yours and you moan. he didn’t think you could make such a beautiful noise, lips crashing against yours as if poised to devour the essence of your angelic being completely. 
it’s truly some exalting paradox in your existence, yourself a diamond in the rough. he thinks himself enamoured by you in the height of his pleasures, drawn in by this innate vulnerability you exhibit toward him when you yourself are at your lowest, marked by the tears upon your lashes — and momentarily he questions, is it sinful to have taken such an advantage over you? 
but alas, he’s committed a great many sins. 
you’re dancing in the palm of his hands, tits bouncing up and down as he thrusts upwards into you, letting that sweet, sweet melody of your pleasure fill his ears, pushing any coherent thoughts from aventurine’s mind. 
your own mind is equally blank, you’re numb, shaking all over as you ride his cock, gasping as his fingers dig into your thighs, lifting you up and slamming you back down — a cry escaping you, your legs trembling, as the knot in your stomach seems to tighten with each movement of his. he’s grown rougher, faster. 
“a-aventurine!” 
“mm you’re beautiful.” he kisses along your neck, as you wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his back amid a muffled sob, as he continues, settling into a steady pace. 
at this point you’ve begun to lose count of the times he’s abused your cunt, your vision blurring as a sudden orgasm crashes through you, the knot in your stomach growing taut — then snapping, without so much of a warning, as his cock hits that sweet spot of yours, one that has you seeing stars. 
he fucks you through your release, your first, and then every other one that follows, in chase of his own, your walls growing tighter and more desperate — your cries becoming higher and higher in pitch, you’re practically keening with your head thrown back, eyes rolled back into your head. 
you can’t feel your legs anymore, aventurine being your sole support, bouncing you up and down. you feel his cock twitch inside you moments later, a breathless moan leaving you as his warm seed spills into you, the excess leaking down your legs in a stream of milky white. 
you slump against his frame with a tired sigh. you don’t know how long you sit there for, his cock still inside you. he doesn’t make any effort to move either, content to have you rest against him. 
“so.” he says a moment later, lazily caressing your bare thigh, arching an elegant eyebrow at you. “same time. next week?” 
back to business so quickly, you think. you manage to raise your head to look at him with a confused expression, eyes bleary and unfocused. 
“you seriously didn’t think repaying this debt was a one time thing did you?” a smile curls across his lips, purple eyes gleaming in the light. 
“i— of course not.”
"good."
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