#it used to be like. underboob length

[wetchickenbreast]

just chopped my hair with craft scissors lol

#it’s shoulder length now #it used to be like. underboob length #i did kinda forget about the curls so it might be shorter than intended but who give a shit #chicken scratch

[secretsofafangirll]

you're still my favorite girl - vol. two

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!oc

summary: after chris and his childhood best friend reveal their true feelings for one another, they end up going to bed beside one another hot and bothered. what happened when they wake up and those feelings, physically and emotionally, never went away?

//t.w// smut, soft!dom chris, sub!oc, , fingering,, use of "ma'" and "mamas", stomach bulging, mild sub space moment, mild overstimulation, lots of dirty talk.

As the morning sun drew brighter and higher in the sky, it crept through the curtains of my bedroom, casting a warm light directly on my eyes. I blinked them open, one at a time, scrunching each open side to help soothe the ache of the alarming brightness.

Upon coming to, I felt a pressure on my chest. Nothing strong or harsh, but a presence in front of me as I lied on my side. My arm lied heavy against a smaller object and I realized the position I was currently in.

With her back pressed against my chest, sweatshirt and pants long gone, my sickly sweet Isabelle Lavigne slept peacefully beside me, her back arched and ass pressed against me. I allowed my hands to slip under the hem of her shirt and travel the expanse of her stomach, reaching to cup her underboob and then all the way back down to her hip. I pressed my hips into hers and hooked my ankle over hers. Pushing her hair away from her neck, I placed a gentle kiss on the warm skin below her ear.

"My beautiful sunshine angel," I whispered to myself. I felt her stir beside me slightly, a whine scratching her throat as her muscles stretched. My hand stopped moving on her stomach as I felt her subconsciously press herself back into me.

"Chris," She croaked with her adorable morning voice, "What are mumbling about?" She questioned, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling onto her back? throwing her forearm onto her forehead.

"Nothin'," I answered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm away from her face and pushing her hair out of her eyes, "Just thinkin 'bout how beautiful you are."

"Oh, is that the new thing?" She blinked her eyes open and smiled at me.

"What? Calling you beautiful?" I asked, to which she nodded, "Don't act like that, a new thing, Belle. I've always called you beautiful." My hands roamed the expanse of her body, around her stomach and waist and down to her thighs and knees. I wrapped my hand around her waist and pulled her over and into my side before locking my hand under her knee and pulling her leg over my body.

"Chris.." She drawled out, as her body thumped into mine.

"What? I'm just making sure you're comfortable," I teased. She climbed on top of me, straddling my hips as my hands found hers. They rubbed up and down the length of her sides and down to squeeze her exposed ass. My eyes bore into hers until they closed when I gripped the skin tight enough to bruise. She bit her lip and moaned softly, her back arching making her press her hips down into mine. I could feel how wet she was through her panties.

"Chris, please," She begged, her eyes blinking open and looking so innocent.

"Please, what?" I asked, reaching up to her back to push her chest down to mine. I pressed a kiss against her cheek before finishing, "How am I supposed to know what you want?"

"Don't make me say it," She blushed and turned away from me. My hand wrapped around her jaw, forcing her to look back at me.

"Oh, you know better than that, baby,"

"Please touch me," She finally found the words.

"Not so hard, huh?" I teased, wrapping one arm around her ass and one around her shoulder so that I could flip her over onto her back.

She smiled a cheeky smile before saying, "Well," and gesturing down to bulge in my boxers.

"Shut the fuck up," I breathed, before leaning down to her face and capturing her lips in mine. Her hands found my back and slid up under my shoulders before tickling down my spine. My back arched and my smile broke the kiss.

"I really want to feel your hands on my body ma', I do," I said as I pulled away from the kiss, "but if I'm laughing while I'm trying to kiss you, we're gonna have to put them away. And I really don't want to do that."

"Okay, I'm sorry," She bit her lip.

"One, you have nothing to be sorry for. Two, put that lip back where it belongs." I said and pulled it from between her lips. "Now let's take care of my favorite girl, hm?".

I leaned back from her chest and sat back on my knees but snaked an arm behind her to pull her up with me. I grasped the hem of my hoodie that adorned her body, pausing for a moment to remember this moment. I, Christopher Sturniolo, was about to pull my sweatshirt off of this woman's body to expose my half-naked best friend. What a morning...

Third Person Point of View

Chris slowly bunched the thick material around her waist and over her chest and she raised her arms for her to rip it off. He avoided looking until it was fully gone and she was left in nothing but her underwear. He blinked his eyes down to her breasts and took his time admiring each one. His large hands cupped her B-cup tits and massaged them in his hands. She whined in response and bucked her hips up toward his. One hand dropped her breasts and pushed her hips back down to the bed.

"Patience, ma'," He sighed looking in her eyes before darting his own back to her body, "I wanna take my time with you."

His hands dragged down her stomach and sides and down to her hips where he fiddled with the lacy trim of her panties. He continued to touch her thighs, his fingertips tickling the soft skin. He hooked his hands under her knees and slowly separated her thighs.

Vulnerability took Isabelle over and suddenly grew very nervous. She took in a deep breath, one all too similar to the kind Matt takes when he's getting anxious.

"Hey, you okay?" He checks, releasing a leg and reaching up to cup her cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Just a bit nervous, s'all." She assures.

"Ya' sure?" She nods and he makes his way back down to her thighs. He separated her legs again and allowed his hands to fall down the outside of thighs and to her panties again. He grips the hem of them in his slender fingers and pulls them down and over her knees. He unhooks them from her ankles and tosses them elsewhere. Isabelle's legs instinctively closed again and this time, Chris gripped her knees tightly and threw them apart, "Keep these. Right here. I'm not gonna tell you again."

Chris was always a more dominant person. Within his past relationship, hook-ups, and even friendships, he always took on a dominant, sometimes fatherly role. With Isabelle, he was always very protective and casually dominant. Making sure she ate, tying her shoes for her, and scolding her when necessary. Chris has always imagined how much of a brat or how much of a sub she was in bed and Isabelle has always wondered just how dominant Chris could be. And neither of them could lie, this was exactly what they had hoped for.

"Yes sir," She nodded quickly, swallowing thickly.

Chris' gaze diverted to her most private area. The sight he was met with was heavenly. Entirely bare, smooth and so incredibly wet was his, soon to not be, best friend's pussy. He bit his lip and looked up to the ceiling, silently begging for forgiveness for the thoughts he was having.

"So pretty, baby," He cooed, "So fuckin' gorgeous. And just for me, right?" His voice dropped.

"Yes, yes. Only you. Belongs to you." She whimpered as her hips writhed against the bed. She wanted to, no, she needed him to touch her.

"That's right," He whispered and reached out to drag his fingers through her folds, "So pink and wet and all mine."

His touch lit Isabelle on fire. His fingertips grazed over her clit and her breath hitched in her throat. His cold fingers dragged over her core again and slid down to her entrance, "Gotta open you up a bit first, mama."

She whined as his fingers slid inside of her, going deeper and deeper with every second. The pressure inside of her so foreign, as she hadn't been touched in months, "Chris," she breathed.

"What, baby? Feel good?" He coaxed

"Yes, Chris. You know it does," She breathed as her eyes rolled back behind her eyelids. He continued his work inside of her, curling his fingers and pumping them in and out of her. All she could do was writhe and whimper due to the pleasure coursing through her body and he just watched in awe of her beauty.

"Chris," She gasped, shooting her eyes open, "Chris, I'm gonna cum!" She exclaimed as her legs and hips roamed the bed even more.

"Yeah? You're gonna cum?" She nodded and bit down on her lip as her eyes squinted shut, "Go ahead, mama. Cum on my fingers."

She breathed out swiftly as she tried to suppress her moans and whimpers. She brought her hand down to her mouth and bit down on her wrist. Chris reached up with his free hand and tore it from her mouth, "No no no. I wanna hear my pretty girls' pretty sounds."

His words only amplified the pleasure already upon her and she whimpered even louder, however, she still tried to remain quiet so that Nick and Matt wouldn't hear. Gross. She thought. I'm thinking about his brothers while he's knuckle deep inside of me.

He worked her through her high and her breathing slowed as she gained control of herself once again. Part of her was worried about how overstimulated she would be, but she secretly craved the feeling and the control that he has over her. Once she had come down, he pulled his fingers out of her heat and brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. Isabelle's brows pinned together as she felt herself getting even more worked up. He backed away from her body to pull his own boxers from his legs. Exposing his cock to her.

Holy fuck. She thought. She had always imagined what his dick would look like but she would feel guilty and perverted when her mind went too far. She had always thought it would be big, but not this big.

"God, everything about you is so fuckin' beautiful," He breathed, letting his eyes wander her body, "The way you sound when your moaning and whining," He straightened her legs around his waist, "How your hips move because it just feels too good," He teased her and wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her closer so that he core was flush with his own, "And your pretty little face when I touch you just right or say what you need to hear. How your eyes get bigger and how you bite your soft, so soft, lips."

"Christopher," She huffed, "Please."

"Alright, alright. I'm gettin' there," He soothed, running the back of his fingers over he cheek, "Just can't get over you."

His right hand grabbed the base of his cock and his left reached to wrap around her right thigh, "Let me know if anything hurts, okay? You understand?" She nodded in response but that wasn't

good enough for him. He tilted his head and pinched her thigh making her yelp, "You know better than that. Use your words."

"Yes, I understand." She spat out quickly, her need becoming more and more apparent.

"Good girl," He dragged his cock through her folds, the feeling of her warm wetness engulfed his tip and his body shuddered at the feeling. He pressed his tip to her entrance just to test the waters and her body seized for a moment. His eyes darted up to her and his eyebrows raised to check on her.

"I'm okay, promise. Please, keep going." She begged and bucked her hips, getting impossible closer to him. Ever so slowly, he pushed further in, working against the resistance he was met with. He tried his best to keep his eyes open as he felt her stretch and squeeze around his size. Once she got just over halfway he felt her body pull back slightly and a whine of pain escaped her lips, "Chris." She whispered with a trembling voice.

"I know, I know," He soothed, bending down to place a chaste kiss on her lips, "Just a little more, hm? Think you can take it?" He ran his hands up and down her thighs.

"Mhm, yes," She whimpered, "Yes, I can take it."

"Know you can, mama." He praised before pushing in all the way. Isabelle moaned in response and Chris jaw fell slack and his eyes slammed shut before a cheeky smirk was planted on his face, "So fuckin' good, ma'" He breathed out while shaking his head. He gave her a moment to adjust to his size. Once she gave him the green light, there was no going back.

He pulled back and slammed back in, watching her body move up and down on the bed. His hands gripped her hips tightly for leverage as he thrusted his length inside of her.

"Oh my God!" She moaned, her eyes pinching shut. He continued his assault on her pussy and watched as her innocent eyes stared up at his dominant ones. He pinched his lip to try and conceal his own moans but he failed miserably. Groans, moans, and whimpers of pleasure fell from his plush lips as he worked his way through her.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight, holy fuck," He groaned and mounted his hands under her thighs to lift them to 90 degrees, then he slid them down to her calves and through them over his shoulder and leaned forward to continue. This new angle had her throwing her head back and moaning loudly.

"Chris, Chris, Chris," She moaned, tears springing to her eyes are the stimulation, "Oh my fucking God." Her hands reached up to cover her face as hot tears fell from her eyes. They were tears of pleasure, but they were tears, nonetheless, and she didn't want him to see her crying. His hands removed their harsh grip from her hips, where there were surely bruises, and they tore her hands away from her face and he pinned them with one hand to the bed. His brows furrowed when he saw the tears but they leveled out when she cried, "Feels so good. So deep."

His eyes traveled down to her core but were stopped when he saw a lump in her lower stomach. He halted his movements inside of her and she sprang up in surprise to ask him why he stopped. When he challenged force with his hand on the shape, her jaw fell open and a high moan tumbled from her mouth. Her hand shot for his wrist to move it but he was much stronger than her. He could feel the force because it was him that was making the lump.

"Yeah? So deep? You feel me here?" He pressed harder, "You feel me in your tummy, taking up all this space?" He taunted and started his thrusts once again. She fell back against the pillows once again, and he allowed her to be his pillow princess. "That's right. Just lay back and let me fuck you, yeah?" He said and his hands found their way back to her hips so that he could pound into her harder.

"Chris, 'm so close," She whimpered and grasped the sheets in her hands.

His eyes stared down into hers, "I know baby, I'm almost there. You just gotta wait a little bit longer."

"I can't Chris," She whimpered, trying to mitigate the overwhelming pleasure that tingles all over her body. Chris' thrusts didn't relent and he worked so hard to chase his building high, "I can't hold it."

"Then, go ahead, ma'," He permitted, "Cum on my cock, baby."

With that, Isabelle's back arched off the bed and her body writhed in Chris' hands. He pushed her back down to the bed and continued to work in and out of her. Her vision clouded and her eyes rang slightly as he was overstimulating her. High pitched whines and whimpers started to fall from her plump lips and he looked up to his eyes in concern.

"It's alright, mama," He laughed and breathed a chuckle at her dependence on him, "I've got you."

Chris high followed shortly after and whines and whimpers fell from her lips as she fucked her through both of their orgasms, "Want my cum inside you, don't you mama? Want me to make you a mama someday, hm?" His mindless, meaningless words didn't register in his brain but they did in hers and her mind clouded at the pleasure she was experiencing. She nodded in response, not even really meaning to.

Chris continued to pump thick ropes of cum into her and once he was done, he plopped down onto her front, leaving his softening cock inside of her to trap the mess they'd made.

"You okay, my girl?" He checked on her after taking a moment to catch his breath. When she didn't answer and all she heard were her quick breaths, he pushed himself up from his position directly on top of her and looked at her face. He was met with a spacey, fucked-out mess of a woman that he needed to take care of. "Isabelle, baby, you're here with me yeah?" He tucked a sweaty strand of her hair behind her ears and tried to provide her with grounding, innocent touches.

Her cloudy eyes found him and she nodded, unable to form words yet. He just chuckled and pulled out of her slowly so that he could do what he needed to do for her. This made her finally speak, "No," She whined, "Wanted you to stay." She pouted.

"Trust me, ma', I did too, but I need to clean my favorite girl up," He said in a dominant tone that told her not to argue and she didn't even want to. He climbed off the bed and slid his arms underneath her body to carry her bridal style to the bathroom. Isabelle had finally come back to planet earth and found herself staring at him in amazement. "Why're you looking at me like that?" He squinted.

"Nothin'. I just love you," She murmured softly in his ear and her hand played with the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck.

"I love you too. You're so perfect." He complimented and set her on the toilet. She stared up at him with her lips folded into her mouth.

"I'm not peeing with you in here, mister." She said sternly.

"Bro," he kissed his teeth, "I was just balls deep inside of you and you think I care about watching you pee?"

"I don't care if you care, I care if I care. Now please, exit." She shooed him away with her hand. He groaned before spinning on his heels.

"Anything for my favorite girl."

///

aaaahhhh!!! i know this took way longer than expected but i had a ton of exams and my schedule just got super busy, but she's finally here. i'm sorry if it was underwhelming or not what you expected but this was my first time writing something like this, so let me know what you think or what to work on.

thank you all so much for all the love, i definitely wasn't expecting this many people to see my work, so, for that i'm very grateful.

i have a series planned, so, be on the look out for any information about that.

all the love, she <3

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #childhood best friends to lovers #fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x fem!oc #chris sturniolo fanfic #dom/sub #belly bulge #size k!nk #size difference #dom!chris struniolo #Spotify

[scientia-rex]

Best Things I Have Bought

I'm not sure how successful I will be in remembering all of it, but I'll try. These have all been game-changers for me, in a variety of ways. If teen me had had access to all of these, I would have been a vastly happier person.

This one is long, so I'll put in a cut.

-outlet timers. Not having to go around and manually turn off lamps at bedtime? Amazing. I bought these but you can and should get some that have a grounded outlet with three prongs so you can attach good extension cords to them.

-famotidine. aka Pepcid, it's the safest option I currently know of for managing acid reflux. I get nauseated when I get acid reflux, so this is a necessity for me.

-T-Gel shampoo. The only one that keeps my husband's insane dandruff under control. Coal tar shampoos smell peculiar, but are totally worth it if they work. For my hair, I like anti-dandruff conditioner--I apply it to my scalp and my other conditioners to the length of my hair. After bleaching my hair, I use Olaplex 3 to prevent more severe damage; the difference is very noticeable.

-white vinegar for a laundry rinse. I get horrendous contact dermatitis and adding this in the "fabric softener" cup in my washer keeps things from making my skin burn.

-on a similar note, all Oxy laundry booster. Doesn't make my skin burn but does make stains and smells noticeably better than detergent alone.

-Aquaphor. If you have eczema, nothing helps like Aquaphor, unless it's hydrocortisone ointment (the same white petrolatum base as Aquaphor but with hydrocortisone) or a prescribed steroid.

-Bissell Stomp 'N' Go pads. I have stomped. The stain goes.

-Prune puree. A packet a day keeps the chronic constipation at bay. Less volume to consume than prune juice and, in my opinion, slightly more palatable.

-Chinotto is a bitters-based beverage that I discovered by accident really helps my chronic nausea. I've tried other brands, and San Pellegrino is definitely my favorite. Tastes weird at first, but when heavy-duty ginger ale doesn't ease it, Chinotto can. And when that doesn't work, I have Zofran (ondansetron) my doctor prescribed me for the nausea I get with migraines, and that's an effective anti-nausea agent for more than just migraines.

-"You Just Need to Lose Weight (And 19 Others Myths About Fat People)" by Aubrey Gordon.

-rolling laundry cart. Doesn't have to be this one but if you CAN roll your laundry to and fro from the machines, do it.

-"Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men" by Lundy Bancroft. If you Google, you can usually find a free pdf floating around.

-"The Vagina Bible," by Dr. Jen Gunter.

-satin scrunchies. Wet Brush. Terry cloth lined shower cap. AOA terry cloth hair turban (way, way better than similar ones from drugstore).

-stretchy work pants.

-bra liners. For large-chested people who tend to get sweaty underboob, this is a life-saver.

-Goo Gone.

-Dr. Scholls medicated foot powder and the Earth Therapeutics tea tree oil foot spray. The foot powder works for super long days and the spray for lighter days.

-Reflective heat pad. I use this on my car seat in the winter and I am so happy for that every single chilly morning. I've repurchased it... once or twice? now.

-Retin-A. I used to use Differin, which is adapalene, the most potent retinoid available over the counter, but the switch to prescription-only Retin-A has been very noticeable. Decreased wrinkles, clearer skin. More inclined to flake and burn but it's worth it for me.

-Red LED therapy. Near-infrared stimulates collagen production in the skin. The only other thing that really does that is retinoids. I bought the Omnilux mask, which is certainly high-end, but HotandFlashy (a YouTube content creator) did a great comparison of different masks available by specs and this was the best at the time. The difference is noticeable within days. I've tried other, lower-powered masks, but what made me make the jump to high-end was that I got the Dennis Gross red LED eye mask for crows' feet off eBay and I was like "holy shit, this is better." And Omnilux is better still. It makes sense, since they were the OG of the models that have been in dermatology clinics for a couple of decades now.

-AOA foundation has been at least as good at my TooFaced foundation, and it's like 1-2 bucks instead of 40. There are light, medium, and deep shades, each on different pages; I'm linking to light because that's what I use. The lightest shade works for me, and I'm basically translucent.

-AOA VitaGlow tinted moisturizer is absolutely my go-to for lighter coverage days.

-AOA PawPaw blending sponges. Best out there and also the cheapest.

-(do not buy any of the AOA eyeshadows. Total waste of time, zero pigment. I've tried repeatedly and they're just garbage. The highlights are generally fine though.)

-Direct acid foot peels. The calluses come off. Just don't do it when you have ANY open wound on the feet, because it's acid and will sting like hell.

-blendercleanser solid cleanser for blending sponges and brushes. Actually a) gets them clean and b) rinses out.

-PureWine wine wands. I let these puppies sit for three minutes in a glass and suddenly I can drink red wine without migraines or hangovers. Fucking miraculous.

-Dustbuster. Holy shit it's amazing for ADHD peeps. Small thing bugging you? Can't get yourself to bust out the "real" vacuum? USE THIS.

-Crocs. Don't @ me. I wear a black pair around the house and for garden chores and they make my feet happy. Salonpas patches and/or BenGay for a topical when you're sore--topicals are great pain relief.

-Vibrating neck pillow. Don't need it right now? Wait until your next head cold. Vibration clears sinuses.

-PooPourri. I love not having to smell poop. This, and similar products, work pretty well by trapping scent particles in the oil layer instead of letting them evaporate into the air.

-Electric snow thrower. I can't manage a large, heavy snow blower and I don't want to deal with a gas engine. This little guy helped me clear my large driveway in 3-4 hours instead of 12.

-The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, by Carl Sagan.

-Handheld home IPL for hair removal. I ordered this exact one and I like it. You can get these on eBay or Amazon for cheaper sometimes; just make sure you PROTECT YOUR EYES during flashes. Targets pigment in the hair bulb so lighter skin and darker hair work better, and deeper skin tones may burn.

-Lanolin chapstick. Makes all other chapsticks I've used look like garbage.

-Steam eye masks. ShopMissA sells these and you can find them on a lot sites; shouldn't cost more than about a dollar per mask. I ended up buying an electric eye mask because I wanted to treat my dry eye and that just felt more environmentally responsible, but I love falling asleep with these on and I can't do that with my plug-in mask.

I think this is where I'll leave it--I've gone back quite a ways in my shopping history across multiple sites and thought about my daily routines--but if any of these problems torture you, these are my suggestions.

[ddejavvu]

okay but like steve or eddie x f!reader and she’s wearing a top that shows off her under boobs and steve or eddie is obsessed with it!!

send me some blurb requests!

steve:

"Well? What do you think?" You twist this way and that in front of the floor-length mirror, admiring the cropped polo shirt that rests stiffly on your shoulders. The fabric is creased from having been folded on the shelf for so long, but it's slowly fitting your form, no longer rigid and awkward-looking.

"I like it," Steve grins at you from the stool he's sitting on behind you, 'I think it looks cute."

"I look like you." You muse, inspecting the collar and noticing that the tag sticks up invasively out of the back.

"No, you look better in a polo than I ever have." A lovesick grin splits Steve's face and your heart swells, but you busy yourself with the tag so that you don't give away how smitten you are. You reach both of your hands behind your neck, subsequently lifting the hem of the shirt to just above the underside of your bra. It's pink and lacy, and Steve's eyes widen.

"You-uh, your bra is showing, honey."

You manage to tuck the tag under the shirt, and it itches against your skin. You have to ignore it, though, because Steve's cheeks are heating up and you realize he's far more flustered than you would have imagined him to be.

"Steve," You giggle, "You can't handle a little underboob?"

"Don't-" He blinks exasperatedly, rubbing a hand over his face, "Don't call it that."

"Why, you like it?" You taunt him further, pointedly stretching so that more of your bra sneaks out from under the hem of the polo.

"Do not do this to me, Y/N." Steve warns, keeping his hands over his eyes, "We're in public."

"We're in a dressing room," You scoff, "You think one of the employees is gonna burst in?"

"They might!" Steve looks pained, peeking from between his fingers, his eyes flitting uncontrollably down to the curve of your bra, "If we get caught, we're dead."

"Then don't get us caught," You grin devilishly, quickly claiming your spot atop his lap and prying his hands away from his face. He glances over your shoulder in the mirror, his hands slipping up your back and disappearing beneath the hem of the polo shirt. He drags the rough fabric up just enough to see the pink clasps of your bra, slowly unhooking them from their latches.

"Absolutely silent, do you understand me?" He stares down at you with a raised brow, his nose brushing your own gently.

You nod eagerly, pressing a kiss to his disapproving frown, "I'll be quiet, Steve, 'promise."

eddie:

Your neck hurts. It's been at an odd angle for hours, cocked sideways while your head rests on Eddie's shoulder. HIs head is sandwiched on top of your own, but you gently raise yours, nudging him awake.

"Eddie," You murmur, shaking his shoulder, "Eddie wake up."

His eyes flutter open and he lets out a sleepy grunt, "Wha- what time is it?"

"I dunno," You grumble, "Late."

A quick glance at his alarm clock tells you that it's 3:45 in the morning, and you tilt your neck to the side, stretching the muscles that had been compressed for so long.

"Fuck," You groan, "My neck hurts."

"I'll give you a massage," Eddie offers cheekily, his cheeky grin perfect despite just waking up seconds before.

"Nice try," You scoff at your best friend, "Perv."

He rolls his eyes at the accusations, though a fond smile creeps over his lips, wrinkling around the edges of his mouth. He slides down the wall, wriggling under the blanket that's messily draped over his bed and staring up at you as you stretch.

Next you focus on your arms, reaching them above your head and letting out a strained sigh when relief floods through your cramped limbs. You tremble slightly at the blissful feeling and Eddie's eyes drag up your quivering torso, catching the soft curve of your breast from underneath the shirt you've got on. It's a tank top with wide arm slots, leaving half of your side exposed. It's cropped on top of that, riding up your chest as you stretch.

His eyes are glued to your skin, the way that your tits sit pretty above the soft skin of your belly absolutely intoxicating to him. His brain runs wild, conjuring up images of his hands cupping them, his tongue wetting them, his teeth grazing them, but then your eyes are meeting his as you're hovering worriedly over him.

"Eddie? Are you okay? I called your name like ten times."

He blinks bewilderedly, clearing his throat and nodding, "Yeah! Yeah, Y/N, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Me too." You smile sweetly at him, admiring the droop of his eyes, "C'mon Eddie, let's go back to sleep."

This time, instead of resting on his shoulder, you rest on his chest. Your cheek is nestled against his shirt, your lips smushed into the fabric as you settle into his chest. Your arm is draped over him, one of your legs curling around his own as you make yourself comfortable.

Eddie can't help but glance down, seeing your boobs squished up by your neck, cleavage strong beneath the hem of your shirt. He lets out a shaky sigh, forcing his eyes shut as he rests a hand on your back, "Night, Y/N."

"Night Eddie," You mumble, your lips moving against his chest, "Love you."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington dialogue #steve harrington blurb

[tuiyla]

I must admit that I never fully understood the Sebastian/Santana rivallry, and then singing Smooth Criminal. Was it because he insulted and belittled her, and made racist jokes? Because he’s done that to quite a few of them.

At this point in season 3 she wasn’t close to Kurt or Blaine, so it’s an odd choice that she’s leading the group to bring down Sebastian, which then Kurt refuses to do.

Okay SO I’ve been meaning to answer this for so long. Y’all know I love going on about Santana.

I think the episode Michael is such a great demonstration of Santana’s firece protectiveness and the lengths she’ll go to to defend the good name of the whole of ND and even people she doesn’t loudly and proudly call friends. Because it was for Kurt and Blaine and the whole club. As shown by the Kurtana classroom scene, Santana does care for Kurt. I wouldn’t say they weren’t close. Everything’s relative so maybe not as close as Santana was to her girls or as close as they would eventually be as roommates, sure. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t on good terms at this point. And sure, Sebastian did make it personal with her when he insulted her. Santana does like a good revenge plot and wouldn’t just let him have the last word. But again the classroom scene shows us that it’s not about taking Sebastian down for herself, it’s for others. She makes a point of calling Sebastian out for what he did to Blaine, makes a point of letting the whole club know the lengths she went to because she wants them to be proud, and comes up with a pretty clever plan to expose Sebastian. Even dies it without violence because Kurt asked her to. And then Kurt and ND pull a real stupid move by not using the tape rip to common sense. She taped it to her underboob! The unsung heroes of our times smh.

So anyway. I don’t think it’s an odd choice at all. Santana has the drive and brains and flare for the dramatic to pull it off. She cares about this club and cares about their good name. Cares about beating Sebastian but more importantly cares about doing right by her friends, which includes Klaine. Idk I just think chalking Santana’s actions up to her annoyance of Sebastian rather than her standing up for ND is the wrong way to look at it. She’s fighting for something here, not against. Michael is a great first real look at Santana using her bitch powers for good. From her wit through her sneakiness and even her vocals. She protects the people she cares about and I guess this means she cares about Kurt and Blaine and the whole of the club.

I always feel like disclaiming that Santana is a huge bitch whenever I write about her big heart because I feel people often choose one extreme and ignore the nuance. So yeah obligatory disclaimer, despite all this Santana isn’t a nice person blah blah. But she’s a damn good friend! And she is the kind of person who’ll take a slushie in the face and come up with convoluted plans and use her bitch powers to defend someone’s good name or bring them justice. She cares enough to do so. Much more than she cares about some lame ass racist jokes. See that’s actually part of why I don’t get the Sebastian/Santana obsession a part of the fandom seems to have; it’s not a particularly epic personal rivalry because she wasn’t fighting for herself. And she clearly beat Sebastian in terms of both wits and vocals, so.

#they look SO ridiculous with those hoodies on #i just mean they look adorable #when they're trying to be badass #tiny beans #anon #glee asks #santana asks #3x11 michael #santana's hardcore friend skills are often underestimated i feel #which is fair. she is also a bitch #but credit where credit's due none of this was for herself #santanalysis

[strawberry-metal]

I was inspired to make a Luka redesign after my friend Alice made a Gumi redesign a year ago. I used the official Luka boxart as reference, and did trace a majority of the body so don't compliment me for the anatomy. Unless its the legs and head lol

I was actually pretty hard on myself the whole time I drew this because I felt like she didn't look different enough and that the shading looked like trash. Well... I hope you guys like her though. ;w; I'd love to make an MMD model of this Luka but I would have to find someone to commission for this outfit who would be ok with the model being for download, because I'd wanna share her with the community. ;w;

Changes made: Skirt is knee length instead of ankle length, skirt is wavy, skirt is pointed at the bottom, skirt has yellow lace, belts placements have been adjusted, garter added, boots shortened to ankle length, heels added to boots, L added to shirt, removed transparent shirt thingies from shoulders and stomach, unbuttoned shirt to have just a LITTLE bit of underboob showing, digital armband added it's meant to semi resemble Meiko V3's bracelet, sleeve replaced with a glove and bracelet, headphones changed to be swirly, pink lipstick added, lace added to top.

Changes made that you can't see here: The other hand has another glove but it's shortened to a wrist length one with no bracelet, the heels are actually meant to be a little higher but I suck at drawing them so lol

The official boxart that I used as reference and to trace the body is by KEI Garou.

#Megurine Luka #redesign #Vocaloid #Vocaloid Luka #fanart #anime #anime girl #digital art #drawing

[archipithecus]

did you perhaps double the boob in RP, double the out in GenAus, and underboob GenAus and Scotland? (I'm delighted btw. I just copypasted the dictionary transcriptions when I made that post in 2014 but now this can help more ppl)

hi! 1) so glad to hear that you're delighted by the transcriptions, 2) i mainly just copied the transcriptions from wikitionary (boob, out), but i adjusted them a bit and added my own because, 3) transcriptions and analysis of english phonology, especially the vowels, are weird and have their own traditions.

(disclaimer: i'm not a linguist or a linguistics student, just someone who likes linguistics and has read a lot of wikipedia, if anyone has corrections or additions please don't back)

here are the transcriptions i gave in the outboob post: GenAm: /aʊtˈbu(ː)b/ RP: /aʊtˈbuːb, -bʉːb/ GenAus: /æɔt-, æʊt/ Canada: /ʌʊtˈbu(ː)b/ Scotland: /ɘʉt-/

english vowels are often described using a standard list of lexical sets, which are groups of words that all share the same vowel. each named by an example word, and typed in small caps by convention, and these are really useful for comparing dialects.

boob falls under the GOOSE set, which is typically transcribed as /uː/ in RP and /u/ in GenAm. the length marker (ː) is sometimes omitted in GenAm and Canadian English phonemic transcription because those dialects don't have contrastive length, so that's why it's in parentheses, it's optional.

i gave two options for RP boob because RP transcription is kinda conservative, and their /uː/ is more like a central [ʉː]. i also should've specified that GenAus and Scottish have a central (or even front) GOOSE vowel, [ʉː] for GenAus and [ʉ~ʏ] for Scottish

i gave two different transcriptions for out (/æʊt, æɔt/) for GenAus because that's what wiktionary lists, i don't know a lot about Australian English

#ling #wiki

[numinousnic]

[IMAGE ID] druzsea's Shirt Cut Meme, filled out with the player characters from @lazynotconfused's Lyron homebrew campaign for Dungeons and Dragons. Harlow Eskildbarn is filled in for "Sideboob," Phoebe Hesperia-Fairbriar for "Inner Sideboob," Elska Lingren for "Boob Window," Sigbjørn "Siggy" Fenleth for "Underboob," and Vasira Kazamir for "Free Space." All characters are shown from the hips up against a stylized colored background.

Harlow is a tall nonbinary half-elf with a light brown skin; shaggy, shoulder-length dark brown hair, and green eyes. They have a tattoo of the outline of flowering plants on their right bicep. They wear a grey-green workout tank with deep-cut sleeves, and black Adidas track pants. They gaze down and to the left thoughtfully as they run their left hand through their hair. Their background is dark green, with tongues of flame.

Phoebe is a petite half-elf woman with light, rosy skin; waist-length blonde hair; and brown eyes. Her skin is heavily freckled, with scattered moles. She wears a golden heart-shaped locket, a lavender button-up crop top with a low V-neck and puffed sleeves, and a floral skirt with blue, purple, and pink roses. She glances to the left with a small, bashful smile, her left hand curled against her cheek. Her background is pastel green, with falling leaves and petals.

Elska is a lean human woman with light skin, white hair in a braided updo, and pink eyes. Her eyebrows are dark pink, and she has a white scar over her left eye. She wears a long-sleeved navy blue sweater dress with a collar twisted into a chest window. She looks confidently to her right, both hands on her hips. Her background is light magenta, with long trailing wisps.

Siggy is a muscular nonbinary halfling with lightly tanned skin, a red undercut with the top half braided into a ponytail, and blue eyes. They have a tattoo of elemental symbols on their right bicep; most of the elements are faded, but the lightning bolt is bright yellow. Thin, white, lightning-like scars cover his forearms. They wear a cropped fishnet tank top and red sweatpants with a gold stripe on the sides. His hands are laced behind his head, showcasing his arms, and he looks at the viewer with a playful grin. Their background is dark orange, with bolts of lightning.

Vasira is an angular human woman with pale skin; straight, shoulder-length black hair; and brown eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses. She wears a black turtleneck sweater with elbow pads, tucked into belted dark brown pants. Her arms are tightly crossed as she glares to her left. Her background is dark purple, with dashes and dots. [END ID]

The people asked for DnD fanart... I asked my DnD group who they wanted me to fill out the ever-classic Shirt Cut Meme with... they said I should draw our current party... and the rest, as they say, is history. 🤩 This was a large, multi-layered beast (seriously, please open this in full view), but so much fun to work on!

(FYI, Harlow uses they/them pronouns, Siggy uses he/they, and Elska, Phoebe, and Vasira use she/her!)

#my art #dungeons and dragons #dnd fanart #shirt cut meme #lyron #the wayless wardens #harlow eskildbarn #phoebe hesperia-fairbriar #elska lingren #siggy fenleth #vasira kazamir #full disclosure: i REALLY wanted to draw the wayless for this meme #if ONLY so i could put vasira being grouchy in her regular turtleneck in the free space 🤣🤣 #BUT. tattoo design and fishnet crop top ALSO great motivators #GOD this party's so hot. whenever we get to a formal event we are going to KILL IT with our outfits

[sugar-plump-gal]

51 and Chorda

51. “I love that you only wear crop tops. Oh, they’re just regular t-shirts?”

"Yup! They used to fit normally, but I'm a biiiiit bigger than I used to be."

'Biiiiit bigger' is the understatement of the century. Chorda had already been huge, obviously, but the last few months had included a LOT of extra food. A lot of it was for videos, mukbangs, trying everything on a restaurant's menu, or random challenges like 'Chubby bunny but I just swallow the marshmallows,' but the most fattening thing of all was not a video, but her fans' reaction to one.

Simply put, telling an entire planet of loving fans both your favorite foods and your mailing address tended to get predictable results. Every time she mentioned liking a particular food, something she did REALLY fucking often, she'd wake up to a mountain of packages overflowing with whatever treat she'd offhandedly said she enjoyed. She wasn't about to let a fan's gift go to waste, especially when it's something she already enjoys, so most of Chorda's 'mail opening videos' ended up consisting of her happily working through however many hundreds of pounds of food she'd gotten that week.

Letting everyone watch their donations round out her stomach in real time didn't exactly make them stop.

Now, Chorda's bigger than ever and rarely, if ever, not sporting a gut filled with the rewards of her fans' adoration, sometimes larger than the rest of her combined. Even without that, however, spending almost every day stuffed with your favorite foods has only added to her already massive figure. It's hard to say how much, between her height and constantly being stuffed, but the fact that her shirts can still be mistaken as 'crop tops' is almost a miracle.

Just her chest would be enough to stretch them out, even without the massive stomach resting below. They were already the size of beach balls, big enough most people couldn't wrap their arms around her, but at this point even she could barely reach past them, hands just able to touch each other past the sea of tit that sits on her belly. She could have as much or as little belly as she wants, but her bust would still turn any shirt into a grand display of underboob and stretched fabric.

Her lower half didn't really impact the whole crop top thing, but her skirts were having similar problems. Her ass had gone from filling anything smaller than a couch to practically swallowing anything that didn't break outright. Her underwear didn't cover much of anything, and any skirts meant to be shorter than her knees only accentuated the massive cheeks that spilled out of them. Longer skirts and pants either stopped fitting altogether or inevitably tore at the seams from the hips and thighs they struggled to contain.

But all of that still paled in comparison to the massive gut that dominated Chorda's frame. Between her constant eating and the countless calories stored from it, her gut had gone from looking like a pillow to a mattress. You could lay down on it, spread your limbs, and still have plenty of room to spare. That she could still move was entirely thanks to her being a fuschia, a strength meant to haul whales more than suited to carrying her own blubber instead. Even if, gods forbid, she stopped eating, her stomach would still be larger than the rest of her combined. It extended more than an arms length in front of her, heralding her arrival whenever she enters a room if the gurgling didn't already give her away.

Her videos are more popular than ever and her mail room is only getting busier by the day, so. Try and enjoy that 'crop top' while it lasts.

#drabble #long post #mightve uh. gone overboard #anon #ask #Chorda #ocs #externia #wg stuff #Also again #Kissing you on the mouth

[knifegiver]

Costume Analysis - Jaskier's Shirt

Before I start, I wanna invite anyone who disagrees on anything I say here to tell me! Please, be it because you’ve seen a better screenshot or because you have more knowledge than me, please tell me! I’m no professional in anything, and I’m basing my knowledge on what I notice and feel would be practical.

Anyhow, here goes nothing. The shirt is the first thing I’m gonna analyse because that’s how I usually start, and to explain why it’s not gonna be the first piece to be made. The reason is this godawful fabric!

The Fabric

You see, it’s a beautiful fabric, it’s lovely! It’s also absolutely bonkers! The floral pattern on it is the level of extra that is appropriate for Jaskier, but also a pain in the ass to recreate. I have at length complained about it to my sibs from other cribs. They know, and now you do, too, that this freaking fabric enrages me to an unholy ammount!

I would say it’s linen, cotton, or a blend of both. And it has a pattern woven into it. For an undershirt.

See, people who love being fancy and fabulous would definitely have five or so undershirts to change regularely. At one point in our very own, real history shirts were sold by the dozen. They are frequently laundered, and you need a lot of them. So, Jaskier having the fanciest undershirts ever is very much in character, but holy hell, am I mad about it!

I will probably use cotton because it’s easier to find fine cotton than fine linen these days. I want to use linen but if a cotton in the right weight is all I’m gonna find, I’m not gonna be mad about it. Since it’s off-white, naturally cream-ish kind of colour, I will have two options on how to get the floral design on there.

1. I can paint it on. I will have to find a shiny white or a mother of pearl fabric paint but it’s possible.

2. I can try my hand on bleaching the pattern into it. If that sounds daunting to you, believe me. It does to me, too. That method would require a whole lot of research first so I’m not accidentially injuring myself, my mother, the whole neighbourhood.

Both options are the reason why I’m not starting on it first. It’s still winter, it’s cold, and I can’t set up shop on the balcony to avoid having the entire apartment smell like a nightmarish chemical factory. And I really don’t want to give myself the migraine from hell by doing this inside.

So, not yet.

The Cleavage

Jaskier is a bard. As such he’s natural slut. And his chest situation confirms that. The shirt is very open and the only button it has is on the collar. Bards, right? This is the reason why I need boob containment. Due to size I’m not comfortable not wearing anything underneath. And I really hate unmanaged underboob sweat.

I am unsure whether the end in the slit reinforced with piece of fabric or if there are just reinforcing stitches. I think I will decide on what to do with that when I see it in person.

The Collar

I love the collar, I really do. Stand-up collars are amazing and since Jaskier absolutely refuses to use the button on it, I won’t feel like I’m choking.

The collar is not one piece of fabric folded up, but it’s two pieces with the lace sandwiched in between! You can see where the light is showing that little detail! It might actually be starched a bit to not flop around senselessly but that’s another thing I will see once it’s done.

The cord for the button is similarly sandwiched between the collar pieces, but the button gives me a bit of a head scratch. It’s not shiny so I would say it’s not a shell button. It might be bone, or even a fabric-wrapped button. Personally I lean towards bone. But to be honest, if I won’t find anything like that in the necessary size, I won’t be too mad about just slapping on a modern button in off-white.

The Body

The body of the shirt is pretty simple. It’s a big rectangle with a hole for the neck. Well, a hole and a big slit cause… bard. The shirt has not seamline down the body so I know it’s one front piece that had a slit cut into it, and not two seperate pieces sewn together. That’s something to keep in mind.

The shoulders are very over-cut and go to about the mid of Jaskier’s upper arms. I’m not sure, to be honest, if there’s a shoulder seam or if the back and the front are one big piece.

The Lace

First I thought the lace was there to connect the body pieces but there is clearly not extended seam down the arm. So it’s pretty clear that it is insertion lace just for the fun of it. Because, of course you put delicate lace in a place that should be sturdy. Only a bard would do something like that.

The lace is also the reason why I lean more towards the theory that the front and back are one piece, and not two. But as I said, I can’t tell for sure.

The Sleeves

There are lovely gathers in the sleeves. Lovely, and infuriating. By how dainty and even they are you can tell that they have been brushed to insanity. I love nice gathers as much as the next person but doing them is tedious. At least it seems like most of them are on the upperside of the sleeve. I’m not sure if the underarm is gathered, at all.

There is a fine stitch line above the actual seem which indicates that a ribbon or tape was used to bind the edges of the gathers. Which is a good choice. Personally I would have just fold everything downwards and bound it with the seam allowance of the arm sythe but I can also see why the costume department didn’t want to do it. Anyway, tape it is.

The Cuffs

The cuffs are what sold me on the shirt, I’m not gonna lie. They are beautiful! I’m gonna go out on a limb and make a guess that the cuffs ar done in a similar way to the collar, and the sleeves are sandwiched in between the two pieces.

But the cuffs are actually also a source of headache for me. Where the sleeves go into the cuff it looks like the fabric was gathered, the same way it was on the upper arm. But the ruffles are definitely pleated. And those pleats are adorned with lace. That’s gonna be one prickly hell full of pins.

The cuffs don’t have visible buttons. The way they look I would say they’re either closed with hooks and eyes, or with an invisible button. I’m leaning more towards hidden button because hooks and eyes would easily become unhooked on a place like the cuff. So, yeah, I’m going with hidden button unless I find something contrary.

So… this is my analysis of Jaskier’s shirt. Thanks to anyone who made it throught this monster of a post! And really, if anyone wants to throw their two cents in, I’m always glad and happy to discuss garments!

#jaskier cosplay #costume analysis #the witcher

[thirillia]

I think it’s so funny that people think Joseph is the fashion atrocity manwhore just because the iconic outfit everyone remembers is that spicy crop top & skinny jeans combo (which is most definitely due to it being represented everywhere as his main outfit, even though he wore that for the duration of one fight only). And I’m not here to contradict any of you. The description most definitely fits.

But what some fail to consider is that the opposite is happening with Caesar. Just because his most known outfit is that pastel blue-pink winter combo he wore in Switzerland doesn’t mean he is not just as bad as Joseph. If not worse!

Most of Joseph’s casual wear is pretty humane. His wardrobe consists of tank tops and pretty shirts Erina bought him. Some cool jacket, a pair of jeans and he is set. Of course some of his tanks are smaller than need be… it looks like he went clothes shopping and the store just didn’t have stuff for his torso length so he just ran with it. A little stomach never hurt anybody. And he went higher little by little.

Caesar, on the other hand, chose to get himself that lacy underboob ‘tank-top’ (if you can call it that?) and wear it with nothing but a coat over it. Mind you, it was one of his best looks but damn that thing merely counts as a bra (he has a few of these. His main outfit includes one. It’s just over his shirt. Does it act as a breastplate of some sort? Is it armour? Then why doesn’t it cover his whole torso. Does it have practical use like his gloves and knee things to aid fighting? It doesn’t seem to!). I’m not going to get into his first appearance because all of you know how atrocious that outfit was. It seems like all his normal blue shirt-white trouser combo pieces were in air Supplena island. God knows, he only started dressing normally (as normal as it can get for one Caesar A. Zeppeli) when he was under Lisa Lisa’s watch. I’m ignoring the backwards suspenders because that is somehow the least weird thing to me.

Fact is that Caesar has some weird shit in his personal wardrobe. And if you’re going to shame Joseph for his crop-topping, don’t forget to shame him too. He deserves it just as much!

#battle tendency #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #joseph joestar #caesar anthonio zeppeli #caesar zeppeli #caejose

[theinvisiblemuseum]

HEY same anon here, and yes of course I wanna hear about the girl's tattoos as well!!! thank you for indulging me, I'm really invested in thinking about tattoos headcanons now and I love your ideas, they really match each character's personality and look super pretty!! not gonna lie, it's making me wanna get a tattoo too, your power.... <33

ahhh yay i’m glad i’ve sufficiently sold my tattoo headcanons thus far SLAYYY (also i’m obviously a big proponent for tattoos. do it do it do it)

now onto the girls, none of whom thankfully have as many as sirius, but still enough that this post will also be incredibly long :-))) BUT i finally figured out the keep reading cut wahooo

lily:

i hc lily as jewish, so she doesn’t have any tattoos BUT she does draw on her hands and arms all the time as a way to give herself reminders/take notes/etc

mary:

mary’s an astrology/tarot/aura/crystal/etc girl and her tattoos reflect that

1. realistic looking flame- down her left shoulder to her elbow

2. realistic looking wave- down her right shoulder to her elbow

3. crystals- one representing each of her friends, running along her spine 

4. empress tarot card- inside of her left forearm

5. artistic leo inspired design- inside of her right forearm (mary is a leo sun i won’t take crisicism)

6. wings- on her sternum/underboob area sort of similar to rihanna’s isis goddess tattoo but it’s just the wings 

dorcas:

most are pretty simple, similar to james she likes to have ones that really mean something to her

1. suns- one on the backside of either arm, matches james’ on his ankles

2. the letter m- on her wrist bone, for marlene

3. rose- on the outside of her hand, from her pinky to her wrist

4. a bluebird, a cardinal, a goldfinch, and a swallow- down the length of her torso on the right side of her body (each bird represents one of the girls- marlene is a bluebird, lily is a cardinal, mary is a goldfinch, dorcas is a swallow)

5. two hands locking pinkies- back of her neck

marlene:

the sirius of the girls in terms of millions of tattoos half of which mean absolutely nothing

1. the letter d- on her wrist bone, for dorcas

2. va te faire foutre- on the back of her right arm, means go fuck yourself in french (sirius’ influence)

3. the female icon thingy (♀)- behind her right ear

4. skull- left side of her collarbone

5. snake- right side of her chest wrapping up to her collarbone (slytherin dorcas truthers rise up)

6. rose- right side of her chest, matches dorcas’ rose

7. geometric heart- left side of her chest, on her heart

8. sword- between her boobs

9. sleeping cherub- right side of her sternum

10. hand shooting hearts- left side of her sternum

11. golden snitch- back of her neck

12. celtic knot- right shoulder (marlene is irish and that’s that)

13. triquetra- left shoulder

14. bowen knot- on her hip bone

15. dragon- all the way down her back, but it’s sort of mixed with other designs and looks incredibly cool rather than incredibly stupid a la ben aflleck’s back tattoo, you know?

16. bluebird- right thigh

17. sun/moon/stars- stomach

18. roman numerals 1-8- left thigh, i hc marlene with a big family, so there’s a number for each of them

19. sappho quote ‘someone will remember us I say even in another time’- left forearm

20. birth of venus- right shin

21. cartoon style dog- back of her right ankle (also sirius)

22. strawberry- under the inside of her left knee

23. realistic looking lightning strike- down the whole side of her left leg

alice:

while in my mind she’s technically outside the core marauder group, i have too many tattoo ideas for her to leave her out

1. feather- on her left shoulder

2. cherries- left tricep

3. broomstick- back of her left forearm

4. swirly design- top of her left wrist

5. daisy- right shoulder

6. thestral- top of her right forearm

7. sprig of leaves- top of her right wrist

8. sparkling diamond shape- right hand

9. her name in runes- one rune on each finger of her left hand

10. stylized sun- just under her right knee

11. hand with a heart between them- left knee

12. butterfly- left thigh

13. ancient greek inspired geometric pattern- wrapping all the way around her sternum 

subject to change as i add more in my mind, as we well know by now :))

#organ donations #tattoo talk

[sin-of-jess]

Mt. Lady

Type: Smut

I’ve been wanting to do some lesbian action for a while, and honestly she seems like the perfect starter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"But Y/N!!  This is my last outfit and I'm on patrol tonight!"  Mt. Lady complains to me, wearing her signature pro-hero costume that was horribly singed and cut up nearly beyond repair; one of the legs wasn't even attached to the suit and she had someone's mid-length skirt on over her costume for some reason. I can't help when my eyes go to her chest before her face, but I still frown at her, "I'm sorry Mt. Lady, but I'm incredibly busy.  Can't you ask one of the others on the floor?" She pouts as she cocks one of her hips to the side, "You do better work than the others by far, no one knows this style of fabric like you do!"  I roll my eyes, my gaze reaching her chest again before meeting her face again.  She gets a grin on her face and leans across my table, jutting her chest out and making me realize there was a tear in the fabric underneath her left breast.  "Can't you pause the others and do mine really fast?"  She asks in a flirty tone.

I'm ashamed of how long it took me to tear my eyes away from the exposed skin of her underboob to meet her face, though I had a hard time meeting her direct gaze, "I can't just stop the commitments to these hero's to fix yours, it's not even a quick fix!" She pushes her chest out even more, and I realize she's doing her usual ploy of feminine innuendo to get her way.  I didn't think she'd use those tactics on a woman like me, but I wasn't going to complain about the sexy sight in front of me.  "What if I make it worth your while to do it?" I raise my eyebrow and finally lock eyes with her, "What could you possibly propose to get me to do that?"  It felt like a stupid question, but I was genuinely curious as to what she had up her damaged sleeve. She sways her hips dramatically as she walks over to the door of my office, making a flourish to lock the door before coming back to where she was, "I could stay here naked while I wait." She said it so nonchalantly that it stole the air from my lungs.  I cough and drop what was in my hands, looking up at her in surprise, "You'd what?!" She starts fingering at the spot on her chest that's torn, pulling the material up to show more of her voluptuous tits.  "I saw you trying to sneak a peek, what harm would it look to let you get your fill and I get my suit done?"  I'm speechless, my eyes first moving to all the damage of her costume while lingering on her curves.  "Would you like to see why I had to wear this awful skirt?"  She asks me, unzipping it from the side and pushing it off her hips.  I don't see it hit the floor, my widened eyes glued to the obscenely placed cut in her suit that let her pussy hang free. "I uh..."  I stammer, licking my lips as I start unabashed at her hairless mound.   "Is that a yes?"  She asks me in a tone that meant she already knew the answer.  I nod my head.  "Well, then I guess you'll need this then!"  She pulls the suit down in one fluid motion, years of wearing the style costume making her use to taking it off.  Her entire body is free for me to see, and it takes me a few tries to take the suit out of her hands with my focus on memorizing every part of her glorious body.   It takes me a moment to pull my eyes away to start working on her suit, taking off the fabric that's unfixable and cutting it off.  While I rummage through my storage to find the material that matches her costume she busies herself grabbing a chair from the corner of the room and sitting it across from my desk.  I'm able to take a few minutes to start measuring the fabric and getting it prepped to put on the suit, but I can't focus on much once the hero across from me gets fidgety.   At first, she's just rubbing her hands along her chest, almost intentionally avoiding her nipples that were probably hard from the brisk temperature of my office.  I roll my chair over to the specially made sewing matching beside my desk to start shaping the fabric I cut, and facing away from the woman gives me a moment to catch my breath.  It's like my cheeks are on fire, and it's hard to focus on the work at hand.   "Are you interested in woman, Miss. Y/N?"  She asks, swirling her fingers around her nipples as close as she can without directly touching them.   I stumble over my words as I roll back to my desk and am greeted with Mt. Lady's legs now splayed out in front of me.  "I uh.. I am actually."  I don't know how deeply she wants me to delve into my sexuality, but the situation at hand leads me to believe she only cares if I'm sexually attracted to her. "You know what's the best part of women?  They know how to touch me properly."  She tells me as one of her hands traces symbols around her stomach and down towards her crotch.  "Men can be enthusiastic and experienced ones have the hang of it, but a woman knows where she likes to be touched and can learn fast on how to do it on another,"  She continues her one-sided conversation as she starts sliding her finger up and down her moistening petals.   "I, I wouldn't know..."  I awkwardly reply, my hands struggling to work due to my shaking.   Her eyes flicker up to mine, "What do you mean?" I shift in my seat uncomfortably, "Well, I've never had the chance to... to try..." Her eyes turn mischievous as she slowly rises from her chair, "So you've never pleased a woman, or,"  Her eyes travel down and back up to me, "or pleased by one?"  I meekly shake my head no and lean forward to focus on the project at hand.  My focus is brought back up to her though when her form comes into view as she climbs onto the heavy wooden desk.  "Do you want to right now?" She shifts her body so that her pussy is at the edge of my desk, feet perched on either side of her as she spread her knees out.  I lick my lips again, dropping everything in my hands and beginning to reach out.  I hesitate only for a moment, looking up at her and being greeted by her chest being more visible than her face.  It was the first time I realized how tall my desk was. Mt. Lady grabs the back of my head and guides me closer to her wet center, "Come on baby girl, make me feel good," 'Always thinking of herself,' I think to myself before leaning in to dive into her core.  It's sweet and there's a lot of it, giving me plenty of time to enjoy her flavor.  I start by swirling my tongue around her folds, collecting her juices, and swallowing them greedily.  She lets out breathy moans as she lets me use her to experiment.  As her whines get more frequent I decide to focus my attention on trying to make her cum.  I latch my lips around her clit and swirl it around, using my fingers to mimic what I do to my own pussy when alone.   I had to admit I had thought about this before.  She was the hottest hero at the moment and she was loud and proud about how sexy she was.  Seeing her on TV made my insides clench up, and I couldn't believe that I now had her writhing in pleasure on my work desk.  "Suck tighter put a finger in me too..."  She moans out, her hips instantly pushing into me the second I slide my finger in.  It takes a moment to get down pat, but once I can properly coordinate sucking her clit and fingering her I add a second finger.   In hindsight, she was being far too loud, but I was drunk on the intoxicating flavor of her and let her do what she wanted as long as I could be buried in her pussy.  She suddenly grips my hair, pulling me deeper into her, "I'm gonna cum, make me cum, Y/N!"  She says as she pushes into me so hard it barely gives me room to breathe.  I piston my fingers into her as I suck on her clit and swirl my tongue at the same time, my reward being drowned in her juices. When I finally release her clit I'm breathing heavy, my face from nose to chin soaked in her fluids.  Her cheeks and chest are flush as she looks down at me dazed, "You should do that again,"

#mt. lady #yu takeyama #mt. lady x reader #mha x reader #x female reader #x lesbian reader #female x female

[vslattae]

ALL I COULD EVER WANT

ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴄ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴋᴘᴏᴘ ɪᴅᴏʟ...ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɢʀᴏᴜᴘᴍᴀᴛᴇs ᴘᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ..

ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴠsʟᴀᴛᴛᴀᴇ

Paring: taehyung x reader

warnings: ( oh another smutty chapter yes) almost shower sex, oral ( f and m receiving), mention of taehyungs masterpiece on your skin, soft tae kisses but then he kinda turns dommy, cursing..( overall just tae being soft with y/n once again)

chapter 5. a kim taehyung special.

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the sunlight drifting into the soft greys of the curtains woke you up. Shifting in the bed to flake out into a starfish you felt another body. taehyung stayed. He mumbled something that you could hear so you decided to pepper him him kisses like he did the day before.

“tae..(kiss)..wake..(kiss)..up..” he slowly opened his eyes and in return gave you a soft smile..and that turned into a chuckle. “what’s so funny” you cocked your eyebrow at his thrashing figure. “go look in the mirror” he finally stopped his violent attack of laughter.

getting up you yawned at once in the bathroom you glanced at yourself, your eyes trailing down the weird reddish violet spurs on your neck that tracked down to the valley of underboob. “tae...i’m going to kill you..” you whipped around showing him his artwork he gave to you last night. flashes of memory ran through his mind.

the soft ‘ohs’ that came from your mouth...the way you whined when you were so close, the needyness that pulled when your insides curled against his thrusting fingers. “...you said it was okay” he chuckled getting out of bed to make his way to your figure that stood in front of the mirror.

“tae where supposed to go swimming! how am i gonna explain this?” you lightly punched his chest only for him to cage you in his arms. “tell them you tripped and hit your chest on the bed while i was finger deep inside you” he trailed his fingers over the marks..his territory now.

with a hmft you gave up and got in the shower, the warm water coursing over your veins but you didn’t expect another visitor to pop in. His arms flexed around your waist as you sat under the warm water, tiny droplets pooling at his hair as he stared at you in awe.

Stepping out to look at you..all of you the sight when straight to his dick. Trying to play it off he pull you back into him... “tae put the monster away...” your laugh was music to his ears. “ not my fault he’s out..look at you, you made him happy” he mumbled in that deep but soft voice, the shock ran straight down to your heat causing you to turn around and wrap his semi soft dick in your hand..

“oh so he wanted to come out and play hm?” you looked at him slowly pumping the length while your thumb slides over the tip causing tae to let out a soft whine. “i suppose i do owe you for last night and i’m the one responsible for this hm?” you hummed as he nodded peering down at you while you slowly inched down onto your knees.

fuck. he was really hard..and really big..your hand looked so small wrapped around his pulsing length. taking your time doing a few slow strokes with your hand before he cursed, you looked up at him towering over you head tilted back in the water. Slowly inch by inch you took him in, his hands fumbled in your wet hair pulling slightly.

“ oh fuck.” he groaned. humming in the approval you tried your best to slide him down your throat but failing a little you gagged coming back up for air. “ use me..” you fluttered your eyes up at him. “ fuck are you sure?” kitten licking up the small dribble of pre cum that oozed out you nodded.

Then unexpectedly he opened his mouth letting his saliva poured out of his mouth onto the fist of your hand and the uncovered part of his dick, you licked your bottom lip before you let him fuck your throat raw. The strokes always were soft him pulling his dick out before slapping the tip on your tongue before sliding it back in.

God you’ve never felt anything like this..the soft groans that came out of his mouth sounded so fucking angelic, the way he cursed and rolled his eyes everytime the tip touched the back of your throat. Usually your gag reflex didn’t effect you too much but now you were breathing through your nose as your lips met the hilt of his cock.

“ god that mouth holy fuck” his breathing became harder before turning into whines and groans then mumbles.

“y/n are you in here” you heard a voice boom through the room before the door to the bathroom fumbled open. Taehyung ducked onto the floor god forbid haru find out your sucking dick in the shower. especially taehyungs.

“yeah i’m here why oh” you looked down to find taes tongues sliding down your core. you shook your head but he kept prodding his tongue over your clit rolling back and forth making your speech slurred. “ oh we were about to go swimming so i wanted to see if your up..where’s tae?” biting your lip and letting your hand slip in the curly hair of taes head.

he managed to slid two fingers into your dripping heat before looking back up at you to continue the torture of his tongue his other hand sliding vigorously on his length. fuck why is so hot?

“oh- alright yeah i’ll be done in a minute or two.” holding in a loud whine pulling taes finger out to place it in your mouth to lick off your arousal. “alright just making sure! see you in a bit” you heard the door close and the room door close.

“ what the fuck tae?” he pulled back up to look at you pawing at your lip to let him in. “fuck” you whined against his lips as he pulled your bottom lip. “get on your knees and open your mouth i’m close..” he panted out, obeying the order your tongue slipped out as the white liquid spurred painting your tongue white. “swallow” he looked down you watching as you licked your lips and swallowed the salty substance.

Once you were done with the shower. he patted you dry and wrapped the towel around your body and another around his waist. Pulling on the black two piece before piling on a sweatshirt and shorts watching taehyung pull on his grey board shorts. “stop fucking me with your eyes. you know i’ll pounce on you right here right love?” he looked at you eyeing him like candy.

scoffing he placed a kiss on your temple before walking out to join everyone else. grabbing something from the kitchen before piling outside to join haru and jin she gave you a sharp look telling you to spill whatever the hell was on your mind.

taehyung joined yoongi and jin in the water while you sat on the small picnic table where haru sat it only took one word. “spill” she giggled towards you so you openly told her about what happened last night but not what happened in the shower.

“ shut the fuck up..your joking right?” she dead eye looked at you. “does it look like i’m joking haru” you whined pulling the hoodie off a little to show her taes little art piece marked on your skin. “damn...i really lost the bet huh?” she laughed. A few girls arrived “guessing the boys found a few more bodies of company huh?” you laughed. “ uh yeah...that girl ( she pointed to a smaller brunette that splashed water at jk) she was on jk the whole night.” she giggled. “and he didn’t tell me what a shame.” you chuckled back.

“so are you and tae a thing now or just strictly fwb or something like that?” she questioned you sipping out of a glass jar that was filled with juice. “i’m not really sure...like we’ve established our feelings but nothing happened yet.” you looked back at the boys sitting in the water. Tae whipped around to look at you. “well i’m glad something exciting finally happened i mean remember that last guy-“ you stopped her to laugh “ omg he was such a dick huh” you giggled. “ we’ll come on as much as i love tanning i want to swim” she held out her hand.

causally not trying to be too suspicious you slid off the hoodie and your shorts running to the pier to jump into the clear water. Jin and everyone else swam towards you two trying to stay in the water to cover the marks taehyung held you up wrapping your legs around his waist as he smiled.

“ it was about time” yoongi laughed. “what are you talking about” your hands wrapped around taes neck. “ y/n we aren’t as stupid as we look we see taehyungs master piece on your body..” taehyung laughed. Haru was focused on jin running her hands through his hair while the other boys played around with the small group of girls in the shallow water.

Taehyung hand slid over your thighs ghosting your core. “not nowww was earlier not enough for you?” you pressed your lips into his to give him a peck.

“...i could never get enough of you are you serious?” you mustered up to giggle..

“so now what pretty boy?” you looked at him running your hand through the wet curls.

“let me treat you for a kim taehyung special my dear” he pulled your body closer.

“ are you asking me out on a date or are you being lame” you laughed

“ god am i that lame” he pouted.

“ nono i was just playing around. i’d love to but where are we going?” you kissed his cheek then his forehead than traveled back to his lips

“ a surprise you’ll see” he kissed you back as you spent the whole time giggling wrapped around tae and ofc pestering you with his shitty pick up lines. :)

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a/n: sorry this a short chapter but thank you for the reads and the love i’ve gotten from all of you! I hope your enjoying this story! don’t forget to tell me how it is or your opinions on what might happen next :) and as always don’t be afraid to ask to be in the tag list ily until next chapter <3

T͎A͎G͎L͎I͎S͎T͎:

@hantaev @strawverryxmilktae @serendipitysev

#taehyung smut #taehyung fake social media #taehyung fic #bts smut #taehyung story #taehyung #taehyung fake texts #taehyung fluff #bts #bts fake social media #taehyung being a softie #oop all these reads i love yall <3

[hoseoksactualass]

illicit episodes

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: smut 

word count: wtf it’s ltrly almost a 10k pwp im sick

warning/s: sex during office hours (and a phone call kinda) // oral (male and female receiving) // blindfold use // just very nsfw 

summary: dream boy, chief executive officer Jeon Jungkook is someone you go way back with until every fibre of your being becomes his entire fetish.

author’s note: ceo jjk for @taespired

after reading this bitch’s recs I’ve gathered inspiration to write this per her request

have the cliche that nobody asked for but everybody wants: ceo!jk and sec!oc and some other filthy endeavours (also,, jk talks a lot and is cocky here)

It’s a crisp night. Evidently and especially in Jeon Corp. where Chief Executive Officer Jeon Jungkook’s office is astood. Full glass walls that point into a corner so the Big Boss himself can choose what side of the city to overlook. After all, whatever he sees fit is what he gets, and that includes an eagle-eye’s peer over where the sun rises and sets when he feels like turning his back on stacked paperwork on his desk—something the majority doesn’t see someone with such a youthful, handsome face as Jungkook’s tending to, but he does, and aces it, too.

What he doesn’t get, unfortunately, is why he ponders an unusual amount of time about the length of your pencil skirt. Certainly enough, earlier in the day, he swore they were longer than they are tonight. Somewhere above your knees, so like paperwork, he almost demands an explanation why he can see your mid-thighs now and the mesh he wished were some panty hose.

It’s hard to be hard in dress pants, too, and Jungkook has that noted to think about again when he sees you bend over for the umth time in front of him to… tend to the coffee table? For longer than an average amount of time?

That night, you say something in admiration to the hard, sturdy, thick wood of the coffee table, and it’s the same night Jungkook fingers you on it until his fingers are wrinkled wet. The first night of many.  

“I’ll have my secretary send you an email.”

In his office, well, his quarter of the floor, Jungkook liked to let you take his blazer and let it grace the coat hanger for the whole day. It was 8:28 in the evening, and city lights, any light, is good to his veneer. Rolled shirt sleeves, expensive belt, and whatnot. Tonight was one of the rather torpid nights, twiddling a pen in his fingers, mind tranced into his phone call with the Chairman of the Board, and you’d hate for the tight of your suspender belts to go unnoticed. You’re three buttons away from an undone blouse.

“Estimates for the next month?,” this is where he looks at you from the listless loll of his head on his office chair. You nod, not missing the way he eyes at the open crevice of your blouse. He doesn’t bat an eye anyway, instantly averts and gets back into the call. “_____ has a summary of that.”

You roll your eyes, knowing full well he wouldn’t see it anyway. You walk closer.

“The marketing manager in—,” he looks up at you, looks back down only to bring his eyes up at you again, at your proximity. “—Japan has a what? Sorry, a problem?,” he has grace in his voice, but his eyes remain stern as if his attention hadn’t been solely caught by the way you dragged your fingers on the surface of his desk, making your way around towards him. “What does she need?,” he speaks to the phone in the same way he tugs at the sleeve of your blouse, pulling you steps closer so he can ogle at you in the comfort of leaning on his office chair. You flash him a smile, but you know it would come artlessly, what with the handsome part in his hair and the softening of his face when he finally gets that front seater view of the lace on the underboob of what Jungkook could make out as an… open front bra. “Uh—huh, should I—,” he nods as if Mr. Park could see him from his end. He tugs more at your blouse, shuffling you to his lap. “—call this a phone call and handle that then?,” he speaks with a tighter breath, and you send him a glare, aware that his impatience was evident and that he’d make you make the phone call in fluent Japanese after whatever he was growing impatient for. You shake your head, threatening to scoot off his lap before you feel his free hand cup at the small of your back. “Ah, that,” he nods again, pushing his lower lip into a small pout, and you roll your eyes again, but this time he sees it, and it’s with a smile. “_____ had that finalised since last week. She’s my—She’s a really sharp secretary,” he bites white at his lip, teeth sliding swiftly at his lip balm, and you watch every second blood rushes back into it. He palms at your chest, feeling for the opening until he can play his fingers onto your skin. “She’s emailing you on those March sales as we speak,” he boasts, pride in his lie and the way he cranes his neck where you offer to kiss. “I’d love to, I’d love to,” he sounds chipper. You assume it’s about drinks, dragging the tip of your nose across his jugular. His hand leaves the warmth of the inside of your blouse, and you feel it move to the mound of your ass. Just soft petting like it’s on his schedule. You don’t rut your hips; work clothes make way too much sound to be this close to a phone call.

The way you’re sat on his lap makes your skirt hike up your thighs, enough that Jungkook sees the straps of the suspender belt latched onto your stockings. You look at him, eyes still buzzed in an attempt to focus on the call while his fingers played with the mesh, gradually going up to the strips of the garter belt.

“I’m assuming it’s just Japan who has an issue,” his head perks up at you, amused by the way you followed his every gesture. He gives your thigh a squeeze before mouthing the word off. “Great, no attempt to contact was made yet?,” he watched as you slipped off your skirt.

You knew this would get him. To see you undone, undressed this way, a garter belt, just a garter belt that matched the revelation of your bra.

“I—I understand,” you see his chest rise high and fall. Lethargic. You make your way towards him again. He fishes for something on his desk, and then you figure out it’s the remote for the blinds when you hear a significant beep, and the room starts to grow dimmer. “You can—,” he gestures for you to turn around. “—leave that to me,” you comply only to turn to face him again. He bites down on his lip. “Ah—no, sir, it’s a late night for me.”

He gestures for your blouse’s buttons. You undo them slowly.

“For _____?,” you both perk up, meeting eyes, his dark, possessive. “Why do you ask? I believe she’s finalising that email at this second,” there’s a grit to his teeth, but he manages to smug it down. You smirk at him, and he takes it like a challenge to his competence. You’re a button away. “Mm, very well,” then he cuts his attention span, paying full to the phone call more because he was in a hurry to end it. “See you tomorrow.”

He ponders for a bit, recollecting everything Mr. Park had rambled through those lines before he looks back up at you. “You get better at lying by the day, sir,” you grin. “Part of the job?”

“What I know is that you—,” and he eyes you up and down for the effect. “—should keep my secrets,” he leans back on his chair, fingers hooking to the knot of his tie, then he pulls.

He’s lit by the filter of his blinds, bleeding with the blur of city lights; there’s a good reason behind the stigma that rings around the youngest CEO-Secretary duo and how good they look (and perform). “And I do,” you reach for your heels in an attempt to slip off the pain in your feet.

“Keep them on,” he cuts you off, the tip of his index finger running slowly over his lips. “What? I like them.”

“They hurt.”

“Fine. Off, then,” he sighs as you giddily kick your heels off then finally make your way to him again, bending down to brush the surface of your lips against his. The feeling’s addictive, scandalous but it only makes you more avid for it. You feel him take your blouse off before you wave it away, leaving you in lingerie an easy bite off his own credit card. Rich, and you could sniff it off him.

You kiss down his neck, his chest and abdomen through his dress shirt, and then undo his belt like it’s practice.

“You dress like this under everyday?,” he coos, watching as you get on your knees. 

“Not everyday, but I will if you make it dress code.”

“Feel like I should,” he raises an eyebrow, confident but you still see the blazing excitement in his eyes. You tease a hot kiss on his lower abdomen, unzipping his pants. “Who are you looking this good for?”

“Myself,” you respond, palming his crotch, and he takes it with a smile.

“Gonna suck my dick for yourself, too?,” he smirks, moving his foot between your thighs and nudging them open wider from where you kneel. “Don’t think so.”

You make sure you do it languidly when you take his length out, half hard in anticipation for the heat of your mouth. You tease your tongue on the head of his cock, wetting it before you wrap your lips around it just to release with a pop. “What makes you think I’m doing this for anyone other than myself?,” you stroke him dry. 

“You’re doing it for everyone you—fuck��want would get hard or wet for you,” he speaks with a voice coming more from the tightening of his chest. 

You like feeling him like this, gradually becoming solid at the mercy of your mouth, hearing every hitch of his breath, and looking at him not as someone of power but as someone you can take the power out of. You let up after a particularly deep suck. “Tell me more,” you place a tight fist around his cock. “You mean yourself?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, moans coming out in forms of consecutive heavy exhales you could feel in your spine. “And others.”

You gather a decent amount of saliva in your mouth, straighten up on your knees, and make sure he sees clearly when you let your spit drip on his dick. It’s easier to stroke him. “Others?”

“Fuck, ugh—you’re making a mess,” he leans his head back like the rest of the chair was a magnet, just to bring his line of sight back to you. 

“Who is others, sir? Who else do you think would get hard or wet for me?,” you mock. 

He hisses at the play of honorific but more because you knew exactly what you were doing with your hand. He smirks, though, scoffs almost. “Mr. Park. If I put that call on loud speaker, you would have heard how many times he’d mentioned you.” 

“Jealous?”

“No—fuck, keep going—,” he pets at your hair, gently caressing his fingers over the neat of your low updo. “Was just thinking if—he’d seen you in those already.”

You chuckle, up to play his game though fucking Jungkook was admittedly becoming pretty exclusive. Even for him. “You’re my first audience. Always,” you chaff, finally taking him in your mouth to avoid saying anything else. He takes it like it’s the same thing that puts him to sleep and keeps him up at night, head digging into the backrest, back arching at the feeling. You’ve done this too many times to not know exactly what makes his body twitch; it’s easy enough to tighten your cheeks around his cock.

“Mr. Park hasn’t one idea what you do to me,” he as if boasts, tucking stray hair behind your ear lest he wanted it caging the view of your lingerie clad body. “What you’re doing to me—now,” his breath gets cut into a tight moan, a kick of his hip hitting the back of your throat. He moans again at the sound you make. You listen to him like it’s plugged to your ears. “That—filthy rich son of a bitch thinks he has it all,” he huffs, eyes closed when he blissfully loafs his head back before looking at you again. You look at him, only feeling the moulding of your insides more. “What he doesn’t have—,” he thumbs at your cheek, dragging it across the skin of your face to the corner of your lips where he can see his cock plunge in. He bites his lip before speaking again. “—is this mouth, right?”

“Mm,” you hum. Something about how competitive he felt around his own chairman of the board made your body churn harder than it was supposed to. You were supposed to be zipping rich off traffic on your way home by now, but now, your boss’s dick is part of your schedule. You won’t question it. 

“Get up,” he forces, watching the way you let up leave a glisten on his dick, and he finds it pretty. He tugs you to his lap, manspreads when you’re sat on him, so he can touch you where he sees fit. “And what he doesn’t have—,” he continues, eyes lingering over the swell of your lips. You feel his finger feel down, all the way straight to your core. “—is this,” he smirks when he sees your face shudder. He smears his finger across the lips, rubbing too sensitive against your clit, you make a soft ah at each caress. He easily dips a finger inside, watching his hand’s work. 

You like looking at him like this, his hair curtained over his eyes when he’s tranced by how you can make parts of him disappear inside you, i.e. his finger in your cunt, his breaths shallow, cock hard and red against his abdomen. You can pretend it feels good for now, his finger prodding at the wrong place, but his visual turns you on enough that pretending doesn’t feel like a chore. Until you don’t have to. It’s one curl of his finger and the right pressure that makes your hips roll like reflex. 

“That’s it,” he leans before continuously pressing his finger against the spot. “Fuck yourself on my finger,” he would’ve asked you if you were up for it first, but he knows you’ll give in. What he doesn’t know is how hot it gets him. He watches you, in the congratulation of nature for the broad of your hips that rock on his finger, the water from your cunt that’s starting to soil your inner thighs, and the glisten reflecting colours of the city outside. You’re filthy art. 

Another thing you like is making a mess on him and seeing him welcome it. He lets you pull on his tie rough enough, his head jerks before your lips crash. It’s almost an unkempt kiss, too—mouthing at each other like you’re trying to drink each other up, but his tongue is always so soft against your bottom lip. He kisses you like it’s ecstasy—what he feels on his finger. Then it’s near endgame when you whimper on his lips. 

“Look at me,” he mutters, swiping his tongue over his lips. But you’re in too deep that his voice is nothing but radio noise. All you do is rock your hips harder in request for more and make sure he sees when your body shudders. “Please open your eyes, and look at me,” it’s like he begs for it, too, and it’s always him to plead for something he’s greatly smitten by. Until you don’t comply. He nearly rips his tie off when he undoes it, leaving you empty and snapped out of your reverie. “If you’re not gonna look at me, you’re not gonna look at anything,” he almost growls, foaming at the mouth when he ties his necktie around your eyes, forcing nothing but a dark shade of blue until all you can do is hear, feel, smell, and taste. You wince when you feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, two firm hands on your waist. You hear it when he yanks at a drawer, shuffling through envelopes and whatnot before the ripping of plastic and just the enticing, perfect roll of rubber over his dick.

There’s a burn under your body, but you sit on the fire as if you like the way you simmer on it. With your eyes covered, your other senses are sharper, but you doll yourself into submission, not having to see to know full well how hard that made Jungkook not twitch in his dress pants. You feel his lips against your ear.

“What were you thinking of when you bought these?,” when he asks, you hear how young he is. The little postgrad boy with stars in his eyes and a gift for numbers, slack-jawed for girls in expensive lingerie he’d only ever seen in... well, much higher levels of living such as that of your lives now. You feel him pull at your garters before snapping back on your skin.

You bite your lip. Jeon Jungkook, the Computer Science major you had been pining for in your younger years, was now your boss, fingers digging into your hips like the scandal of it all blows his pupils into nothing but black. You have him right where you want him. And although you roll your hips like you’re begging, and he’s grimacing into your skin with authority, you know you’re the one in control. “You. I was thinking of showing it to you,” you whisper, voice more velvety than intended.

“Just showing?”

You crane your neck, give him more skin to nip on while he speaks through his teeth. “More than that.”

“Say it,” he presses a kiss to the juncture where your head meets your neck. “Please.”

“Thinking of making you fuck me in them,” you finger through his hair, messing the do in it, but it’s always nice to feel the silk of his roots. You have him somewhere between making and fuck. It’s only fitting you hear the noise he makes clearer. “I thought of you bending me over your desk and fucking me silly.” After that, all that rung in Jungkook’s mind was a string of I want to fuck her I want my cock inside her I want to hear her cry for it.

“You had this whole nasty act planned then, huh?,” he’s lost, the colour in his eyes a thin ring around his pupils. “Bending over every time I’m on the phone, you do this to Mr. Park, too?”

You hold back a smirk. “I had this act planned just for you.”

You could be smoldered into his skin at this rate, keening where he touches and throbbing where he doesn’t. In his pulse you hear him feeling just the same way, chest tight, sweat on his hairline. He goes a little quiet until you feel him grip at your hips, lifting you slightly, and then the glory of his cock teasing at your entrance. “Shit.”

You make a tiny whimper, and his head would have shot up if it wasn’t for the rather wet visual you had prepped for him.

“You should stop making me want to fuck you every time I’m trying to work—fuck,” he twinges when you sit on him, sinking down, and a long, raspy breath leaves his chest. “Like it just the same when you’re on top of me like this?”

You like how he mumbles this way, as if whispering small mercies and sweet nothings to his own ear, just a breathier, whinier, filthier way of him uttering things to himself when work has the best of him.

You don’t analyze it over; you just want his cock hitting the right place, so you take charge and start with a slow bounce. Enough that you can say the pressure inside you feels good. You know he’s sat back despite being deprived of his visual, with the way you feel him holding his chair in place and the tense of his thighs every time you make him bottom out, and the sounds of his breaths, leaving in ropes of heavy pants and tight groans. You feel a thumb to your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” you almost throw your head to the side. The feeling sends the pair of you into a fucking frenzy—you picking up your pace as you bounce and him trying to match with his finger on your clit. “Ugh—nngh, oh my god—Sir,” the honorific is something you don’t intend. You know, you’re used to it rolling off the tongue just right. With the kick of his hips, you know he’d reveled in that more than you knew.

“Fuck—fucking say that again.”

You shiver, gripping on the arm rests for leverage, head tilted up as if in praise. When you speak, your throat’s a little dry, but it comes off in a husky, light “Sir.”

Why do I find that so fucking hot is all Jungkook thinks of, but he’s biting his lip before he makes a sound more choked than yours.

He doesn’t ask again, but by now, you have a mental note of it. And if there’s something you’re known for as a secretary besides being astonishingly younger than most and unusually giddy around her boss, you were quick at picking up on everything, so you say “Sir, it feels so fucking good” like you were programmed to.

You feel his cock do a thing inside you, and you almost laugh. Quickly replaced by a strangled moan, though, feeling him press down harder as he rubs you. He’s all noise and no words, breathy and tickly in all the good ways until he’s formed a considerable sentence. “Yeah? Fill me in,” one thing that shocks you is his spontaneity in knowing just exactly how to play. Fill me in is the exact same thing he says when asking for minutes, and you tremble as you ride him without intending to. “You like this better than getting your back blown from behind?,” you hear the grimace on his lips. His voice drops, not lower, just softer, more silky, dangerous almost when he says “You like being blindfolded?”

It’s not only the way he says it; it’s all the context behind it. Something about him scribbling down in his head what made your pussy clench around him and what put you off; it was almost... intimate. All you could muster is a faltering “Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me what you like about it,” he prods. 

There’s another thing about responding to this that might ignite your skin where it meets him. As if giving in to him, making him feed off the fetish inside you that is him and every hot thing he does that makes you putty, and you don’t want to splay the evidence before him, but when he asks with a soft plead, “Tell me how this makes you feel”, you find your lips parting. “I—,” you choke when he draws circles on your clit faster as if intending to make you sputter. “I want to see you, but—I like—fuck, I like—how filthy this is.”

He groans, doesn’t mean to. Your thighs are feeling sore. 

He doesn’t ask you to continue, but you do. “S-Somehow, I can—I like that all I can do now is—is hear and feel you,” you’re getting lost in it, stars in your eyes though he doesn’t see. Everything’s starting to fall into the right place, and you don’t know whether the object of his dick in and of itself feels good, or whether that was because he was doing wonders for your clit, or maybe because Jungkook was just hot. You play into it like you’re trained to and ask, voice in a choked whimper, “I just need to—taste you now.”

His thighs flex to a tense. “M-Motherfuck—,” he brings the office chair low, awkward when you slowly descend, but your feet’s weight finds home on the ground, so at least you can bounce on him without rolling on a chair around the office. He doesn’t need to hold onto the desk now, too, so he brings two fingers to your lips and faintly prods. “Ah,” he groans, a low hum when he asks you to open your mouth. “B-Be a good girl,” he almost hisses. “—and taste me like this, hm?”

It’s like your blood ascends to a boil and is stunned right under your skin when you feel him stroking at your mouth. You obey, keeping your tongue a plump bed when you take his fingers inside your mouth. 

When you lightly moan, Jungkook rubs a harsh circle on your nerves before collecting his pace again. “This what you wanted?,” he asks, chest heaving harder, and you almost whine that you don’t get to see him in his glory. “Can you taste me like—like this f-for now?”

You twitch at his tone, hum to it, inner thighs burning at the sore, but you don’t give a single fuck. You bathe in it, feel the way your pupils dilate to try and collect light, but all you’re getting is a more refined version of everything but. He’s moaning for it, eyes switching between the way your lips were wrapped sloppily around his twiddling fingers and down where he was stroking you fast. He tastes of sweat and fading lotion, and every inch and twinge in your body is a second closer to ripping yourself to shreds. 

It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Establishing an unintentionally exclusive sexual connection with your boss was downright absurd, but it can’t be helped when every sensation was a fucking astral projection. You felt like you were evolving, above everyone else, and it was all because of this man’s energy. His eyes are in a haze. You tongue around his fingers, zoned out yourself, until he moans again. “If—If you’re gonna keep this up, I’m gonna—,” you feel him shudder under you. “Oh, fuck—I’m gonna—”

You’d have a mouth to your face in shock if you were looking at yourselves from a third perspective, or maybe the build up was coming too fast; you’d almost want to push him away and veer off the feeling. It’s still something he pressed harder on you, until your cunt makes squelching noises, and that’s where his head snaps. “Shit—oh, god—keep talking, please—”

“Yeah? Keep going,” he says through his tongue’s sputter. “Keep yourself on—on that cock, you fucking—ugh—,” You don’t long to plague yourself on the thought that he’d like to use your body to overwhelm himself this way, let you milk him until none of you can take it, but it plagues you anyway. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, drags the wet of his down your moving torso, makes sure he’s smearing it just right. You mewl. “Fuck—keep going.”

“Shit, fuck, I’m so close,” you squeak, the lower portion of your body quivering slightly. This is what fucking Jungkook was like—bedevilling yourself into nothing but sex and filth. “God, fuck, I wanna cum so bad—”

“Fucking—take it, please,” his hand goes down your waist, planted there like he’s hesitating whether to control your motions or not. “Keep going until you can’t take it, slut—fuck—”

“Oh my god,” you shrivel. But now, your thighs are jelly and knees are trembling; it becomes a supercut—the way he latches on to your hips, lifts you like you weigh nothing and props you on his desk atop messily swiped away papers, and it doesn’t take a minute before your toes curl, and your body itself withers into a weak hold around his dampening body, blinded from everything but the feeling of him taking it away and your own tight shrieks. Then you’re palming at his chest, his shoulders; the feeling’s making your hips buck. “Sir—fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck—”

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so good,” he growls, loses control, leans over your body and pulls off the tie from your eyes only to groan yet again at the sight of your dilated pupils, the twitch of your face and body with every thrust closer to deathly overstimulation. Then his mind-to-mouth filter is nothing but barren territory. “Holy shit, you’re getting—fucking tighter,” he bites, and he’s not done. “That’s a good slut, that’s my good slut,” not done. “So you’ll take it, okay? Take this in your tight cunt until I’m done with you?,” not done. “You’re gonna make me finish, o-okay?”

You almost beg for it, still exactly aware of what strings of his to play with even if a second longer was one step closer to insanity. For now, it’s a whimpery mantra of “Sir, Sir, Sir—”.

“Oh my fuck,” then he loses it, holding back with a tight strain in his chest and all the pull in his abdomen, silent but taut pants until he lets loose with a string of airless groans, slowing down after. He curses a silent “Shit” to himself before pulling out and releasing himself of the soiled rubber. 

Jeon Jungkook is a gentleman, taking your hand and pulling the wear and use of your body to his lap, this time with your back pressed to his front. It’s a story for another time, but when you’d just started out these particular endeavours with Jungkook, you had to acclimate to him treating you like you were married after sex, now the situation being him stroking your tummy as he embraced you and taking up your scent with his nose to your back. “You like being called sir.”

You can’t see him, but you know his eyes are closed. The skin where he sniffs gets cold. “I guess so,” he mumbles. His arms tighten around you, and that’s when you declare you haven’t adjusted to him holding you this way at all, especially with his dick done being inside you. 

“I’ll put that to good use.”

“You already did, miss,” he laughs up your skin, sending two small taps to your hip to tell you it’s time to get off, and you hate it when you feel upset it didn’t last. “Anyway, I have to work from home tomorrow. Need you with me by...,” he brings his wrist up after you get off him, already in the process of pulling your skirt back up. 

At the same time, you glance at the wall clock. Just struck 9. 

“By seven.”

“In the evening?,” you toe your heels on. 

He smiles. “Better if you’re early.” 

You don’t know why, but you feel awkward when you smile back and respond with a soft “Right.”

At most at this second, you were a coffee girl, and you’d love to get out of this tight blouse that’s digging where you sweat. “Anything else?,” you stand next to Jungkook, graced but unfazed by the glory of him working on opening a new sales firm in Japan while wearing pyjamas.

It’s only now he gains sight of the restless on your face. “I didn’t really need you here, you know.”

You felt that make a section in your brain twitch, but you’ve mastered the art of sucking it up years ago. “I’m your secretary after all. We never know,” cue your signature simper, but he knows you too well by now.

“Oh, I know,” he smiles, flatting out papers on his desk and his fingers swipe dangerously close enough to knock his new cup of coffee over. “Called you here to gift you something, actually. I knew you’d be… exhausted.”

You feel the unshakeable use in your loins yet again; it’s like home was phoning you. Turns out you could get enough of your hot boss’s antics. “Oh?”

“I’d let you plan an opening shower for this firm and get that gift for you myself, but I’d figured you’ve had enough of work today,” he leans on the desk, resting his chin on the back of his palms adorably, blinking at you with the still audacity to flirt. “It’s on the bed. In my room.”

It can’t be helped. You smile at him, still in the middle of trying to oil the gears in your head to come up with a thank you or an apology for looking so fucked out.

“And can you turn on my Nintendo Switch while you’re at it? It’s on the bedside. And you can take a shower if you want.”

You laugh, nodding, to turn on your heel and make your way, the implication of him joining you to thumb at a Nintendo device heavy on your mind.

Your heels are still obnoxiously loud by the time you’re at the hall to the left despite trying. You kick them off politely before entering, and when you do, a cityscape view meets you. Someone forgot to turn down the blinds, but it’s perfect like this. A privilege to feel on top of the world by being on top of the world. The ache in your feet’s wearing off already, and the second thing you see is the beige paper bag that sits on the foot of his bed. You don’t bother switching any light on, seeing it sits bright in the contrast of the dimlit room and his dark bed sheets.

Your soles feel like they have balls under them when you walk, but you swerve and flick on his Switch first, its supposedly vivid colours toned in the night’s lighting. On the bedside table was also his watch, ticking an uncertain 8:29 and signifying you had been working on the clock for more than twelve hours. Your work hours tended to always get this rowdy when international boards like that of Japan’s had problems, so you worked like a flint striking stone, though Jungkook… was rather tranquil this evening. As if he had something planned altogether. You won’t question it.

It takes just a peek for you to decide how predictable of a gift this was, an elegant bundle of black silk and lace at the bottom of the bag. You take the bag by your fingers and walk your way to the bathroom, an inevitable smirk on your lips.

Walking in on the luxury of his bathroom will never be customary, already looking warm before you even switch on a light. When you do, you feel like you’ve stepped into a magazine altogether, the golden glow of the vanity giving the perfect accent to the dark, granite finish of the counters and big-tiled walls. For some reason, you don’t lock the door. 

“Huh?” is something you don’t say to yourself out loud while facing yourself in the mirror, but the way the black chemise drapes over the parts you’d use to provoke Jungkook has you raising your brows. 

The pair of you are for window undies and garters and lace and mesh upon lace and mesh, but an opaque, painfully lustrous slip was prettily uncalled for. Your hair’s still wet, but it’s something you ignore when you twist your body for a bit for the mirror as if not used to how concealed all your curves, slopes, and lines were. At least when around Jungkook. 

You hear the doorknob jiggle, and you’re not supposed to, but you feel jittery, on your toes. 

He greets you with a tapping foot, a flustered blush, and a bit lip. 

“You’re taught to knock,” you smile, hands smoothing the silk down your hips. You feel like a wife on her anniversary night, and he’s in careless pyjamas, too, barely allowing you to make out the more intricate lines of muscle.

“You’re taught to lock,” he mumbles through a bitten lip, and you’d expect him to eye you all the way down by now, but he’s fixated on your eyes. “Kidding.”

It’s not entirely carnal, but you feel obligated to act a certain way at this moment, what with how the pair of you are dressed for rewiring your brain into being on your toes like a wedded couple’s honeymoon. “Should I address the elephant in the room?,” you break eye contact. 

“Huh?,” but he’s already turning on his heel, feet leaden and ready to throw his weight where his bed waits for him. He catches on what you mean swift though, and responds with a huffy “You mean my present? Different, right?” as he crashes down. 

You turn off the bathroom light and close the door behind you after grabbing the beige bag now containing your work clothes. “...Sort of,” you wiggle your toes. “I was just trying it on,” you say that rather louder than intended, and it makes him chuckle.

“Nah, tell me what you really think about them,” he pushes himself up, propped on his elbows. You give a good eye at the fabric smoothing over his chest. “I think you look hot, honestly.”

“I feel like I’m about to do nothing but literally sleep with you.”

It makes him guffaw, a bit too hard you would say if you were in his shoes; you almost speculate the slack in his jaw and the wrinkle in his eyes too much and wonder if just sleeping with you had ever crossed his mind. “It’s not like you never have.”

“I have, but it’s always after we fuck,” you raise your brows slightly.

Then it’s now you discern he gives you a sly, once-over and licks his lips. It’s almost like it gives you a spritz of energy in your bones. “Well, do you want to?,” he pulls on his collar before flicking one button of his top open, then toned, honey skin is all you think of. “Just sleep with me, I mean?”

You pull a distasted face, apples of your cheeks twitching into a scrunch when you scoff “‘Course not.”

“Good. Come here,” he pats the space next to him. A smirk on your face can’t be helped when you comply. If you were alone, the instant feel of sheets would have you in an abrupt power nap, but Jungkook handles you like he couldn’t care any less. He throws a leg over you, in a kneeled crouch above you just close enough for you to feel his breath. “Just sit back for me, hm?”

You’re not used to it. The lax in your body, how unmoving you are, clad in bold silk and lace, and Jungkook can see nothing of you but the processing in your eyes and how you wait as if calculating—Why is he

touching me like I’m about to break?

“Do me a favor,” he stills before biting white on his lip. “Tonight, I—,” then you catch his eyes follow down your body, how the silk leaves nothing and yet everything to his imagination. You’re waiting, pulse in sync with the watch on his desk. “I’m not your boss, okay?,” he as if proposes like he’s unsure you’ll confide in him. All you do is search his eyes. “I’m not a CEO, I’m just—,” his shoulders go slump, and for a minute, he zones out. “Just Jungkook.”

You blink. “I—,” honestly don’t know what to say, not when you have outstanding employee plaques on your walls telling you to treat Jungkook exactly how he says not to at this moment. “—but, Sir—“

He groans, leaning down and keeping you caged between his knees, pressing an open-mouthed kiss below your ear. “Have to stop calling me that now, or I’ll snap,” he mutters. You feel his eyelashes on your skin, every edge of his close to you boosted by the touch. For some reason, the whole idea of the pair of you in bed just like teens, with no hectic schedule or firms to attend to, has your breath hitching and even more so when he sucks your skin.

Your hands find his hair, letting the strands sprout through the spaces between your fingers when you faintly tug, and he groans in response. You’ve rarely called him this ever since college, but somehow, your tongue finds it rolls off just as right at this second—he nibbles, and you sigh, “Jungkook.” His name tastes sweet.

Then his pupils blow up, and a soft growl accumulates from his throat, his body reacting at the use of his name before his mind can even grasp it. The use of his name from your lips. “I just—,” he shivers, one hand palming at your chest. Another kiss on your collarbone. “—want to be good to you.”

His voice comes from all kinds of alluring and almost desperate. His lips rose around the bone of your collar and suck, granting himself a soft hiss he realises he’s looking for his name in. Your eyes long to flitter shut, but how Jungkook stops to eye at the marks he’s left can’t be any more admirable. You hear him sniff down your chest, his nose gliding against the fabric before another near chaste kiss on your womb. 

“You’re not wearing anything else,” he utters, keeping himself level with your crotch when he slides slow hands from the back of your knees and higher. 

“’Course I’m not.”

“Good,” he exhales, languid when he pushes your knees into a bend, feet flat on the bed, enough that the chemise curtains over your arousal. You grab a pillow, stuff it under your head lest you want a strain over gaping at him too much. He knows what he does to you. Keeps his eyes on you when he bites on the hem of your slip and leisurely pulls it up where he can see more skin, breathing, turning red in a glow, panting, waiting. Lost in some new inhibition and more when he whispers “Smell so good,” he kisses the mound of your crotch. “So sweet.”

You’re throbbing for it—a prelude for Jungkook wrapping wet lips around your nerves only to stay immobile. All he does is take a deep inhale against your heat; his eyes flutter shut involuntarily, and as if that hazed him, he opens his eyes into dark, lust-ridden hoods. You’re rendered speechless, the way he touches you almost convincing you you’ll break. He kisses against you, tongue licking right under the hood and lips tightening with every stroke. You make a sound he groans to, feeling a jump in the pit of your stomach before it starts to sear in your toes. “Oh, god,” you whisper, grabbing soft hold on the back of your thighs. 

It’s not scarce he hears you like this, laboured breathing and whatnot, pressure on your fingertips wherever you hold on to, but your endeavors preceding that of now’s clearly showed you had the upper hand. Whether it be getting your hair tugged on, your ass squeezed to a bruise, or getting thrown against a wall, he’a always a glare away from being at your total mercy. Not now. And you don’t figure that out just yet.

He mouths at your pussy before pulling free with the shudder in your chest. He takes one arm from where he holds you and brings it to a fold near him, so his fingers play along your wetness. Your lip finds comfort bitten.

What’s so fun about this is the role Jungkook’s getting too good by the second at playing. Your eyes show puzzlement at his feigned love-struck ones, and he has you exactly where he wants. Vulnerable, anticipating something strangely erotic and intimate. The upper hand is his, and he uses its fingers to spread the lips of your cunt apart. “You okay?”, he keeps his eyes on your core. He’s not going to make any snarky comments on how your pussy looks like fresh fruit, but you feel how wet it is anyway, down your ass and all. He pushes a bit with his fingers, watching when the slick drips. He doesn’t spare your eyes a glance, bites his lip to the visual.

“Yeah, I’m—,” he pushes a finger in. It’s limp, and you feel nothing off it, so you know it’s just for feelers. “—fine,” you squeak.

“Want you to feel good, though,” he still doesn’t look at you when he twists his hand so his palm faces the ceiling, curling the plunged finger inch by inch and waiting for that one twitch. He finds it, warm and frilly against his prod. “Do you feel good?”

“There—I—feel good,” you lick your lips and swallow before realising how parched your throat was. He pecks a kiss on your clit before repeatedly pressing his finger against your spot, earning himself almost a shrill whimper from you. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah?,” he pushes a second digit in, the stretch sudden but easy. “Want to make you feel good, want you to cum on my tongue and fingers,” he as if confesses, stiffening his fingers when he slowly pulls in and out to push at your sweet spot again. He feels your hips buck, eyes breaking contact with your pussy just to see your abdomen clench. “You make me so hard, though, I can’t let you just cum now.”

You moan at his words, stupified by whatever persona he’s acquired, youthful and dirty and whipped. “F-Fuck,” is all you can muster.

He speeds up. “What I mean is—,” he stripes his tongue up where you throb for it, and you flinch. “—I want you to cum on my cock. I want to feel this tight, wet pussy cum around my cock, hm?,” his breath proves shallow, fucking you harder with his fingers. A little harder, and you’ll unravel. “I want you—,” his cock’s too much of a strain in his pyjamas by now, and his face feels too muggy. Then he admits, “—to fall apart,” pulling his fingers free and leaving you into a bloodshot, panting grime on his sheets before he proceeds towering over you. His fingers almost slip with your slick when he pulls his shirt off. He’s cruel enough to watch himself when he pulls the waistbands of his pj’s and boxers off, his cock springing up and twitching to a stand against his abdomen. You pulsate in anticipation.

He lazily strokes himself, propping himself in a kneel above you again. He stares at you, the curve of your body and how you wait wet for him. A breath leaves him in a shiver. You attempt getting up and taking his cock in your own hand, but he groans, pushes you down with his other hand and uses it to pull the hem of your chemise all the way above your breasts. Looks for the red undertone of your arousal, your breath and its evident heaving; he squeezes himself before picking up his pace. “Jungkook, let me touch you,” you mutter, on your elbows.

He can’t resist. He lets go and shrivels under the feel of your own hand, pumping him just as he had been. He hums, tilts his head to catch the spread of your cunt, still wet, swollen almost. You make sure your thumb glides over the curtain of the head of his cock, and he bucks. Subsequent to his almost falling apart, he breaks free of your touch and finally props himself down, eyes level with yours, length rubbing on the lips of your heat. You make a whimper of some sort. “Hm?,” he rocks his hips like this. His ears are red.

You can wait. Enamored by how much of a fetish you had become for him. Everything you do or say turns a switch on, and then he’ll want his dick inside you. And now that you had made this revelation, he has you at a blind spot, just waiting, even if one mention of his name will have him by his knees. You whisper, “Jungkook.”

“God,” he ruts, wetting himself with you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he makes a choked exhale, a scrunch on his nose leaving none of his struggle to your imagination. It’s excruciating already. Almost a wine sommelier made to watch before she gets a taste, and every second feels like she’s not getting it so soon. His hair’s falling over his eyes, but you won’t have his head for it. He makes it look painfully sexy, in his crazed element. “It’s—fuck,” he laughs, shaking hair from his vision, licking his lips into a bite when his hips stutter. “Fucking everything about you,” he fakes pressure on your hole, enough to give you a pre-launch on how he’s gonna feel getting in you, but he slides his cock yet again, a shrill groan leaving his throat like he’s annoying himself. “—makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

Accordingly, you think it’ll drive him crazier if you slowly snake your arms from his back to his neck, and it does. He jerks forward and bites his lip a bit too hard, it’s blood red by the time his teeth give. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, si—Jungkook.”

With that, he caves, sparing you silent, awkward seconds to yank at the bedside drawer, and the familiar plastic ripping and rubber rolling plays like a montage again. With what vigor he had to tease you into a puzzle, he uses when he pounds you. You pull at his hair a bit too hard but this time with the awareness anything you do conjures some type of scourged reaction from him. This time, it’s a “Yeah—fucking make me feel it,” he growls, breath light already, and you feel the sheets tighten by your nape where he fists. Your nails almost spade through his scalp, and he only asks for more. Your skin sounds like cheap porn, like a fake audio overlay to appeal to those who craze over slapping skin. “Harder,” there’s a grit to his teeth. Biting down on whatever filth he has before he lets loose.

He’s fucking you hard enough. CEO Jeon Jungkook will look at who he is at this second and frown at his stripped dignity but fawn over how he knows exactly how to move. He knows your body. He’ll know exactly what skin to pinch to make a limb twitch. And he’ll learn fast when the waters haven’t been tested. In this context that he wants to fucking hear you. Are you gonna speak in tongues over dick like this? Are you gonna beg? Scream? Bleat?

“Tell me how you feel.”

Your hands go for his biceps. “I—ohhhfuck so good— fuken’—so hard, Jungkook.” Speak in tongues.

He leans down, totally snogs your ear while he’s at it, biting at skin you’ll put a pain patch over to hide. “Come on, make me hear you,” he pleads, proving lust for more. You never miss how his voice gets tight. He slows for a second, props his knees again; the sheets are starting to sting and stick to his sweat. Then he thrusts back in, fuller, deeper where his fingers have been, and your back archs the way he knows. Somehow, it’s still new. “Right—fucking there, huh?,” then cue—he goes faster. And your hips buck awkwardly, feet leaden, ankles stabbing the foam, abs flexing, and—

“J-Jungkook—more, more—.” Beg. “—More—fuck!” Scream.

And he prides himself with it. Smiles, even. “Yeah, baby?,” is in character with it. You won’t have his head now for anything even if he calls you his fucking sweetheart. Crisis talks. He’ll fuck you and won’t stop until you’ll think about him at night like he’d broken your heart.

If you clench hard enough, you feel the sensation burn but your muscles give out. Something just quite the bargain should be something that’ll fuel you. Make your eye sockets smolder. You ask for it. “Sp-Spit on me. In my mouth.”

“Shit—you fucking harlot,” there’s a glow to his chest. You almost see where his voice leaves, mouth slack when he’s not speaking; he might as well fucking moan. “Open up, baby.”

You lick your lips before you do, make sure you push on the muscle so it’s more plump, red, enough for him to make a bull’s eye when he spits. Your eyes almost roll back into your head. You can taste him. Warm, hint of mouth wash, but mostly warm, foamy, fucking hot. Your gut twists, and you swear you’ll indulge in the feeling before an orgasm starts at your door. “Nnnggh—Jung—kook,” Bleat.

“Yeah, she likes that, you like that,” he mutters before huffing hard, abdomen contracting even more before he goes silent, save for the tiny pants he gives out. Pays attention, wraps his head around your sounds, more pornographic because the both of you are nearing, and your filter has gone to hell. Your lower extremities have thrown a twitching fit, caught between shutting close and keeping them broad open for him. Your right hand lets free from his assaulted skin, traveling down your front to press down on the pit of your stomach, almost so you can feel his dick moving from outside. He makes a cursed growl when he sees you do so. “Look at you,” he hisses through his teeth’s rattling mettle. If he bites down on them, they’ll break. “You know I love your pussy,” he laughs only for it to get choked into a groan. “Getting it even tighter for me.”

Your attempt at a growl turns into almost a cough, dragging out from the blooming of your chest. You’re hot, convulsing, cells expanding and breaking at the heat. Each twinge is like a snap of thunder. You scrunch your face, choosing to show struggle to hold back over sticking your tongue out with rolled back eyes like a cadaver. “Fucking me so good, it feels so good—,” you choke, body curled at his mercy, trusting and praying to his stamina to throw you over the edge, and he’ll prove success with no fail. You have your eyes closed, but his breaths are hot and hard enough that you can pretend to see it in colour. You can write something entirely about the sounds he makes. There’s a pinch in it, each take for air like a sip of helium. “Jungkook, I’m close,” you pant.

“Yeah? Fuckyeah, give it to me.” Skin slaps. His thighs are aching, but he uses its last against your core, fucking the pair of you over it. He’ll hold it back or come to a release with a strangled groan, so he’ll beg for it like you’re gonna forget. “C-Cum, babe, I’m gonna—cum with you,” he groans, pays heed to every bounce and twinge and buck in your body to get off to.

“Fuuuck—there, there, there—“

“Gonnacum—jesus fuck,” he spasms, digs his hips into yours when he unravels and watches when your body twitches into tune. Almost like an instrument played back on track when your body softens with his and your breaths are evidently loud in the air, mouths parched. “Shit,” he exhales, crashing on you, scorching his face with your body warmth where he buries his head.

It takes seconds for you to remember you hadn’t even pulled off your chemise.

It’s a crisp night. Evidently and especially in a Jeon Corp service limo. Full tinted, glass windows that meet by the sides so the Secretary herself can choose what side of the city to overlook. After all, whatever she sees fit is what Jeon Jungkook gets for her, and that includes an eagle-eye’s peer over the roots of the city on the way home when he feels like he’s fucked her hard enough to tick something off his fetish bucket list—something the majority doesn’t see someone with such a youthful, handsome face as Jungkook’s tending to, but he does, and aces it, too.

You go home with Jeon Jungkook’s blazer over your crumpled chemise, a calculated step off the vehicle like in the films. What you don’t expect is Sang-hyuk, designated driver, handing you another beige bag, similar to where your slip had come from just about an hour ago. You peek in, enough to make out a gaping card with a Wear this next before you even find out what it is.

#kwritersworldnet #btswritingcafe #taehyung #bts #hoseok #jimin #yoongi #jungkook #seokjin #namjoon #bts drabble #bts scenario #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #bts one shot #bts imagine #ie #ask:ie

[thorn-amidst-roses]

Got the top of the pants just about done, but I don’t know if I’ll end up having to redo since the reference image looks like...panties with legs...and I’m sure that’ll do fun things to the fit.

For now I’m directly using a panty pattern with a round leg, but I’ll probably adjust it somewhat and add beaded trim over the top of the waistband part after everything’s together.

Also necessary note that I know the top I made doesn’t look like that, but if there’s anything great about BotW it’s that they gave the Gerudo NPCs a variety of different clothing within the same “vibe”:

Some have pants that crop at the knee, some are capri length, some have skirts, and while most of the tops have that center ^ shape, some (particularly for the guards) are more straight across, and check out that Gerudo in the back with the pink puff sleeves??

So straying from the in-game design seems to be okay. Diya’s top is a bit more modest not because I’m trying to make any kind of statement, but because she’s a poseable doll and from my fit testing, any shorter than that and the top pulls up into an Extreme Underboob situation.