#thirty one october | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuagirl · 9 days

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MIDNIGHT INK | JJK

pairings. soft dom!jungkook x fem!reader genres. smut [s] fluff [f]

summary. a faded tattoo marks your heartbreak. desperate for a fresh start, you visit Jungkook, a trusted tattoo artist and secret confidant you secretly love.

warnings. past relationships, heartbreak, and emotional healing, swearing, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral sex, missionary position, and implied consensual rough sex.

( marvy ) hellooooo, first post & writting on here. enjoy, lemme know your thoughts :) ... be nice !

Sitting on your bed, you watched your reflection in the mirror, your fingers tracing the outline of the faded tattoo on your lower back. Once a symbol of love, it had become a haunting reminder of heartbreak. You needed to rid yourself of it, something to signify a fresh start.

Finally, you picked up your phone from the desk and called the one person you trusted implicitly.

"Hello?"

"Hey, before you leave, can I get a quick one done on my lower back?" you asked hesitantly. "Trying to get a cover-up."

"Yeah, sure, be here by eleven-thirty, okay?"

"Alright, cool, thanks." You stayed silent for a minute, hoping he'd say more, but the call ended abruptly.

Glancing at the clock, your eyes widened. It was 11:20. With a groan, you grabbed your keys and rushed out. The tattoo shop was only five minutes from your home, but October's chill and early darkness made the journey feel longer.

Despite the recent breakup with your boyfriend, you always found yourself returning to him—Jungkook. He was the man you confided in, sharing all your problems, including tales of your toxic relationship. Though he listened, sometimes distant, you sensed he disliked hearing about your ex. Yet, he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on; truth be told, he was the reason you frequented the tattoo shop.

Upon arrival, the sign's lights flickered at the entrance. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. Jungkook looked up from his station, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattoo-covered arms. His dark, intense gaze swept over you, making your heart flutter.

"Hey," he greeted, a slow smile spreading. "Ready?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "Yeah, thanks for staying late."

"No problem," he replied, his voice low and soothing. He gestured to the tattoo chair. "Take a seat. Let's see what we're working with."

As you settled into the chair, a mix of nerves and excitement coursed through you. Jungkook moved with practised ease, gathering his tools and preparing the area.

"Alright, let's take a look," he said calmly, lifting the back of your hoodie. His fingers brushed against your skin, lingering longer than necessary, sending a shiver down your spine.

Jungkook's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of desire in his eyes before he focused back on your skin. "15th of... December... 2023," he murmured, staring at your tattoo.

Embarrassed, you leaned your head against the seat. "Yeah, that's when we started dating."

He hummed in response, studying the faded tattoo. "This will be a great cover-up. Do you have a design in mind, or want me to freestyle something?"

"I trust you," you whispered. "Just something that represents a new beginning."

Jungkook nodded, his expression serious and thoughtful. "Got it. I'll sketch something out quickly."

You watched as he worked, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. The room was filled with the soft hum of the neon sign outside and the quiet scratch of his pencil on paper. After a few minutes, he held up the sketch for you to see.

"How about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.

The design was beautiful—delicate yet bold, perfectly capturing what you wanted. "It's perfect," you grinned.

"Glad you like it. Let's get started," he smiled.

He carefully transferred the design onto your skin, his touch sending another shiver through you. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. The first touch of the needle was sharp but bearable. The pain quickly faded into the background, overshadowed by the sensation of Jungkook's hands on your skin. Each touch, each brush of his fingers, felt amplified in the intimate quiet of the shop.

Jungkook worked with steady precision, his eyes never leaving your skin. "You're doing great," he murmured, his breath warm against your back. "Just a little longer."

You tried to focus on the rhythm of his work, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness of his body and his hands' warmth. The tension between you was palpable, each minute passing in a haze of anticipation and desire. His fingers occasionally brushed against your skin in a way that felt more intentional than accidental, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

As the tattoo session continued, you found yourself mesmerized by the sensation of his touch. The combination of the late hour, the dim lighting, and the intimate nature of the session made every moment feel charged with electricity. You could feel the heat of his body close to yours, the soft brush of his breath on your skin.

"How does it feel?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing balm with a dark, underlying current.

"It's... it's good," you managed to reply, your voice shaking slightly. "Thank you, Jungkook."

He smiled, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Almost done. Just hang in there."

The final strokes of the tattoo machine were almost a relief, though you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment at the thought of his touch ending. When he finally finished, Jungkook leaned back to admire his work, his expression of satisfaction mixed with something deeper.

"All done," he said softly. "Take a look."

You stood up and walked to the mirror, turning to see the new tattoo on your lower back. It was beautiful, a perfect cover-up that transformed an old regret into something new and meaningful.

"Wow," you said, your voice filled with genuine awe. "I love it."

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and dark with unspoken desire. "I'm glad you like it," he said.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with unspoken feelings and charged with undeniable tension.

"Thank you," you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

Jungkook's hand brushed against your cheek, and your heart skipped a beat. His touch was gentle yet firm, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. "You're welcome," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Anytime."

As you stared into each other's eyes, the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the line between professional and personal blurring beyond recognition. The tension was almost unbearable, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more.

Jungkook's fingers trailed down your cheek to your neck, his touch igniting a fire within you. "You know," he said softly, his lips just inches from yours, "I've always been here for you. And I always will be."

His hand lingered on your neck, his thumb gently brushing your jawline as he stared into your eyes. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and the air between you crackled with unspoken desire. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing the growing tension in the room.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with longing.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned in closer without thinking, your lips just a breath away from his. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, drawing you in.

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. Jungkook responded immediately, his lips soft yet insistent against yours. The kiss deepened slowly, fueled by the weeks of suppressed desire and the intimate setting of the tattoo shop. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further. The sensation was electric, sending waves of heat coursing through your body.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. The sensation of his heartbeat under your palm matched the frantic pace of your own. Every touch, every movement was charged, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he trailed kisses down your neck. "God, I've wanted this for so long," he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming over your back, tracing the newly inked tattoo.

You let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. "Me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I've wanted you for so long."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and filled with desire as he looked at you. "Then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice a low growl.

With a swift movement, he lifted you onto the tattoo chair, positioning himself between your legs. The cool leather against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat building between you. Jungkook's hands slid under your hoodie, pushing it up to reveal more of your skin. He kissed a trail down your collarbone, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra.

Your breath hitched as he pulled the bra away, his lips capturing one of your nipples in a hot, wet kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

"Jungkook," you moaned, the sound of his name a desperate plea on your lips.

He responded by kissing his way back up to your mouth, his tongue parting your lips as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was deep and fervent, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when they parted. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and dip, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the sensation only heightened your own desire. With a trembling hand, you reached down, palming him through his jeans. He let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you and making you even wetter.

"Need you," you gasped against his lips, your voice breathless with need.

Jungkook pulled back just enough to tug off his shirt, revealing the expanse of tattoos that decorated his chest and arms. You couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, tracing the lines of ink with your fingers.

He made quick work of your clothes, stripping you bare before him. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but the look in Jungkook's eyes sent a new wave of warmth through you. He kissed you again, his hands exploring your body with a fervent intensity.

His fingers found their way between your legs, sliding through your wetness with practiced ease. You gasped, bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "I want to taste you."

Before you could respond, he knelt between your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands gripping the edges of the tattoo chair as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots.

Jungkook's tongue moved with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you felt the first tremors of your orgasm, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

"I want you to come with me inside you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, too breathless to speak, and he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. The sight of him, fully naked and aroused, made your mouth water. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pushed inside.

The sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he began to move. Each thrust was deliberate and powerful, driving you closer to the edge with each stroke.

Jungkook's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moved faster, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine," he growled, his voice filled with possessive desire.

"Yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm yours."

The words seemed to spur him on, and he increased his pace, driving into you with an almost desperate intensity. Your orgasm built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure that finally snapped, sending you over the edge with a cry of his name.

Jungkook followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. He collapsed against you, both of you breathing heavily as the aftershocks of your orgasms coursed through you.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

"That was..." you began, but trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Amazing," Jungkook finished for you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

You nodded, a matching smile spreading across your face. "Yeah. Amazing."

Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "I told you," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "I'll always be here for you."

You nestled closer to him, savouring the warmth of his body against yours. "And I'll always be here for you," you whispered back, feeling a profound sense of connection and contentment.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "We should get cleaned up," he said, but made no move to let you go. Instead, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and affectionate.

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "Yeah, but maybe we can stay like this for just a little longer," you suggested, not ready to break the intimate cocoon that had enveloped you both.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like the sound of that."

The two of you lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms, the quiet of the tattoo shop providing a serene backdrop to your tender moment. The reality of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant compared to the warmth and closeness you shared.

Eventually, Jungkook sighed and pulled away, albeit reluctantly. "As much as I'd love to stay here with you forever, we should clean up and get you home."

You nodded, understanding the practicality of his words even though you wished the moment could last longer. "Okay."

Jungkook helped you off the tattoo chair, both of you moving slowly, savoring the lingering touches and stolen kisses as you gathered your clothes. He was gentle as he helped you dress, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made you want to pull him back into your embrace.

Once you were both dressed, Jungkook guided you to the small bathroom at the back of the shop. He wet a cloth and began to gently clean the areas of your body that still tingled from his touch. The intimacy of the moment, even in such a simple act, made your heart swell with affection.

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. "For everything."

He smiled, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel cherished. "Anytime, Y/N."

With a final, lingering kiss, Jungkook finished cleaning up and walked you to the door. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you felt inside, but you didn't mind. You knew that the bond you had forged tonight was something special, something that would stay with you long after you left the shop.

As you stepped outside, Jungkook held your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Call me when you get home, okay? I want to make sure you're safe."

You nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "I will."

He watched as you walked away, his figure a comforting presence behind you. As you made your way home, you felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that you hadn't felt in a long time. The night had been more than just a tattoo session—it had been a new beginning, a step towards a future filled with promise and love.

Later that night, as you settled into bed, your mind was filled with thoughts of Jungkook, completely forgetting he was waiting for your call.

The intimacy you shared, the way he looked at you, the feeling of his hands on your skin—it all replayed in your mind like a beautiful dream. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, your phone rang, breaking the silence of the room. The screen displayed Jungkook's name, and your heart skipped a beat.

You answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady. "Hey,"

"Hey," he replied, his voice warm and soothing. "I just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"I did," you said, feeling a rush of warmth at his concern. "Thank you for checking."

There was a brief silence, filled with the unspoken feelings hanging between you. Finally, Jungkook broke the silence. "I can't stop thinking about tonight, about you, Y/N."

"Me too," you admitted, your voice soft. "Thanks for the special treatment."

"It was special," Jungkook agreed. "I've wanted to tell you how I feel for so long, but I didn't know if you felt the same way."

"I do," you whispered, your heart pounding. "I feel the same way, Jungkook."

He let out a relieved sigh, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm glad to hear that. How about we make this official? Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

Your face broke into a wide smile, your excitement bubbling over. "I'd love that."

"Great," Jungkook said, his voice filled with warmth. "I'll pick you up at seven. Sweet dreams, Y/N."

"Sweet dreams, Jungkook," you replied, ending the call with a smile.

The next day was a blur of anticipation and excitement. As the evening approached, you found yourself carefully selecting an outfit, wanting everything to be perfect. When the clock struck seven, a knock on your door made your heart race.

Jungkook stood on the other side, looking effortlessly handsome. He greeted you with a bouquet and a shy, endearing smile. "You look beautiful," he said, his eyes filled with admiration.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth. "You look great too."

The dinner was perfect. The two of you shared stories, laughter, and tender glances across the table. Every moment felt charged with electricity, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. After dinner, Jungkook took you for a walk in a nearby park. The night was clear, the stars twinkling above as you strolled hand in hand.

As you reached a quiet spot, Jungkook turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. "Y/N, I meant what I said last night. I'll always be here for you. I want to be with you if you'll have me."

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears of happiness brimming in your eyes. "I want to be with you too, Jungkook. More than anything."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your perfect moment.

The weeks that followed were filled with joy and discovery. Jungkook became not only your lover but your confidant and best friend. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and your love grew stronger with each passing day.

You found yourself spending more and more time at Jungkook's apartment, where he would cook for you, and you would talk for hours about everything and nothing. The walls that once seemed to contain just his life now felt like a shared space where your love blossomed.

One evening, as you lay in bed together, Jungkook traced patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers through you. "I've been thinking about something," he said, hesitating.

"What is it?" you asked, turning to face him.

"I want us to move in together," he confessed, his eyes searching yours. "I want you to be a part of my everyday life, not just the special moments. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy, and you couldn't stop the smile on your face. "I think I'd love that. More than anything."

Moving in together felt like the most natural step in your relationship. You merged your lives seamlessly, finding comfort and joy in the little things—cooking together, late-night talks, and lazy Sunday mornings.

One evening, while unpacking the last of your things, you came across an old photo album. Sitting on the couch, you and Jungkook flipped through the pages, laughing at childhood photos and sharing stories from your pasts. It felt intimate and suitable, a testament to how deeply you trusted each other.

Jungkook pulled you close, his eyes filled with love and promise. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

"We have," you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

As the evening wore on, you found yourselves on the balcony, watching the sunset. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. "I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," he murmured.

"Me too," you replied, your heart full of love and excitement. "With you by my side, I know it will be amazing."

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a deep sense of fulfilment and contentment. The journey began with a simple tattoo, which had transformed into a beautiful love story that would continue to unfold with each passing day.

Your past no longer held any power over you; you could embrace a future filled with love, promise, and endless possibilities. Together, you and Jungkook would face whatever came your way, knowing that your love was strong enough to withstand anything.

As you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace, you knew this was just the beginning of your happily ever after.

(sorry omg i love this pic sm rn 😭😭😭)

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nebulainatree · 1 year

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My superpower is that I get so obsessed with something that I cannot stop thinking about it long enough to sleep. It's also not a superpower and actually is a curse

#This rp server I spectate in has irreversibly changed my brain. And my sleep schedule. I need mental help #Nebbie posts #Nebbie text posting #Send fucking post #it is four thirty am here and I have to bike to school tomorrow. I'm gonna be sick #Wanna hear my ideas? My fucking Ideas? I've got Ideas wanna fucking hear?#First my oc VK who I've talked about once and never made a ref sheet for has a full name now. She's not just initials anymore #Did you know? In a post apocalyptic setting VK would grab a fucking musical instrument and learn to play it and start singing to cope #Little buddy is there for moral support and is also the only other thing that keeps her going aside from badly singing Turquoise October #One and Disc are. Actively becoming the worst power couple in the world. Awful awful people who would kill you for sport #At least One has trans swag though. He's still obsessed with makeup and fashion and turf wars even when the world ends #No ideas for the inkling guy who's unnamed or any other minor splat ocs I've got. Woo #Driving me actively insane. This rp server is driving me crazy insane in a positive way. If only I had the guts to actually tell anyone #I need to scream somewhere about it. Praying no one from that server looks at my blog ever. Or just specifically this post #I told them I read every single rp message in the server (5k+) and like. That I really liked it but #How do you tell someone that something they do has like. Chemically changed you to an extreme extent. How can I ever say that #They're like STRANGERS I've said like FIVE words to them. It's like I walked in on a FAMOUS person #The parasocial is. I want to actually be friends with these people they're so cool but I've put myself into a parasocial thing #They've already got an established friend group and like. I've never been able to join an established friend group #I did it ONCE in middle school by fucking LUCK and it's never happened again. Spect 7 was my magnum opus #I tried to join a friend group one time in the Hollow Knight community and then it just crashed and burned so.#I guess I've just got a doomsday sort of view of interacting with people now. I've never had it work out before #God damn. Earlier I was thinking that past 3am is my poor decision making time and it's so true. Fuck. God damn #Whatever. I need a 3am emotional rambling tag.#It's 4am but whatever #To clarify ig. You can reblog this because the actual post is funny (to midnight me at least) just pretend these tags don't exist lol

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httpsserene · 6 months

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hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

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moonhoures · 7 months

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Wicked Games

🕷️ kinktober — day 16: edging 🕸️

pairing: haechan (nct) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, subtle d/s dynamics (dom!haechan), edging / orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), dry humping, fingering, haechan does eventually let reader cum, haechan calls reader ‘baby’

word count: ~1.3k

synopsis: your boyfriend’s favorite game? denying your orgasms at the last possible second <3

a/n: dedicating this one to my fellow haechan stan @jaylaxies (aria 💙) 🤭

posted: october 16, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Three times. Your boyfriend had basically taken you by the hand, leading you to the very brink, the precipice, of an orgasm just to rip it away from you right before you could have it. Each time a whine would tear through your throat and escape through your lips before he would hush you with a kiss, telling you that would be the last one. But it wasn’t, it never was. He was in one of those moods again.

Haechan would often get into these sadistic moods where he would thrive off of edging you, denying your release over and over and over again until he finally felt some sympathy for you. He luxuriated in the way your brows scrunched together and your mouth parted to let out a noise of unfathomable pleasure before it turned into squeaks of disappointment and frustration. A smile would spread across his rosy lips when your knuckles would tighten then unfurl after being played for the nth time. It was all a game to him, and he only scored points when you looked disheveled, disheartened, and dissatisfied.

“Hae- Haechan, please,” your voice came out in cracked breaths, desperation dripping off of your words.

“Yes, baby?” he was so patronizing in the way he addressed you, like he was so innocent.

“I need to cum,” you whimpered like a wounded animal, begging for mercy, “Please.”

“You need to?” he repeated, “Or you want to?”

“I-,” you had to be careful, because however you answered next would determine your fate in the next few minutes, “I need to.”

“That so?” he asked after a moment of consideration.

You nodded, hissing when his fingertips touched the bruises he left from gripping your thigh while eating you out just ten minutes prior. The corners of his lips twitched, wanting to form a wicked smile. He continued to trail his fingers along your skin, over your hips and waist, past your navel, creating goosebumps in their wake. Up the center of your chest and the column of your throat, finally the digits came to a halt at your chin. They tilted your face towards his own as he now hovered close to you on your shared bed. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the taste of your pussy still present on them from his earlier venture.

“Then I shouldn’t make my love wait any longer, huh?”

A venomous undertone was latent in the way he spoke. Your eyes began to tear up as you realized this will either be the finale of your torment or just another round of his cruel little game. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take, but you wanted to cum so bad you couldn’t think straight anymore.

You breathed deeply in and out of your nose, gritting your teeth behind tight lips as Haechan’s fingers went back between your thighs, drawing meaningless lines and curves with the lightest touch possible. The skin between your thighs was sticky from the amount of arousal that had built up over the past thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of amusing foreplay turned into agony.

The first time, he had you pressed against the wall, your clothes still on. His knee was pressed against your cunt, expertly bucking up between your thighs until you were crying out his name and gripping onto his shirt for dear life. Then he was pulling away, tossing you onto the bed unceremoniously.

The second time, he was eating you out, relentlessly lapping at your clit like a piece of candy. And he didn’t stop until you were squeezing your legs around his head, moans spilling from your pretty lips. The same lips that whined out when he came up with a wet smirk on his own lips, mischief prominent in the way he moved up to kiss you.

The third time, he had been making out with you fervently, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and mashed lips and teeth. He couldn’t hold back his grunts as he slotted his hips between yours and humped you. Both of you were still in your clothes, but only undergarments. You could practically feel his erection against your pelvis, the tip moistening his boxers as it bumped against your folds with every thrust of his hips. You were so close that third time, the closest you had gotten, only for him to pull away with a laugh when he noticed how pathetic you looked.

But now was the fourth time, and it seemed he was going to finger you. Usually your boyfriend liked to cum inside of you, so your chances of cumming soon were looking slim to none. Your chest deflated when you came to the realization, and Haechan noticed the shift in your expressions. A crack formed in his sadistic, playful demeanor.

“Want you to cum on my fingers. You can do that, can’t you, baby?” he kissed your cheek lovingly as his fingers finally slipped between the cushions of your thighs. The sides of his hands accumulated the arousal from your skin while his fingertips collected it from the depths of your slit. A chill went down your spine as you finally got him to touch you, like, actually touch you. Not with his knee or his tongue, “_________?”

“Yes,” you panted, already having forgotten the question. All you could think about was the pads of his middle and ring fingers teasing the slick skin around your clit. Your hips were bucking into his, yearning for more of him. He found it amusing, a cocky smile showing as he finally moved his fingers to your hole, dipping them in. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure as he slowly sunk his fingers deeper, knuckle by knuckle, until he couldn’t go any more.

He slowly pulled his fingers out before thrusting them back in, repeating those fluid movements again and again. He created a pace that had your head digging into the pillows and your back arching. Your hands were clutching at his arm and the bed sheets, your fingernails denting his skin and your fingers twisting the sheets in their grip.

You were painfully aware of the wet sounds coming from between your legs. The squelching caused your ears and cheeks to burn with embarrassment, but it only turned Haechan on more than he already was. He loved knowing that he could make you this wet. That with a little foreplay and teasing, he could turn you into the biggest mess, and all without you cumming. If his pride could be measured it would’ve broken a scale by now.

“Cum on my fingers,” he said, gaze intense as he watched you get closer and closer to release. He knew your tells so well by now. The way you clenched around him was a dead giveaway, but your thighs also twitched and shifted, like you wanted to run but had nowhere to go. Your chest moved sporadically with your uneven, rugged breaths. Your moans became unbridled and carnal.

“Can I?” you whimpered, praying this wasn’t just some cruel joke he was making before he ripped the rug out from under your feet again.

“Yeah, baby, come on. Make a mess on my fingers, I want you to.”

Before he could even finish talking, you were already letting out a moan-like sigh, your hips pressing up against his soaked fingers. As soon as you finished, they fell back against the bed, and you were now aware of just how wet the sheets had gotten. But you didn’t care in that moment, and you wouldn’t for a while longer. You only cared about the buzzing sensation riding throughout your lower half, like electricity running through an electric fence. It crackled in your abdomen, your thighs, your toes, your clit. You forgot how good it felt to actually cum. Maybe now you were starting to understand why Haechan got off on doing this to you.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @kisses4denji @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

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gottagobuycheese · 2 years

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love exerting my artist-endowed right to give middle-aged anna croft wrinkles and prominent tendons and veins and GLASSES

#the only thing they specified was ‘hair that reached her shoulders’ so I will TAKE IT #can't wait until october when I can finally set these loose into the wild #but also october can take as long as it likes since I've got so much more to go lol #don't think I'll reach thirty-one but I'm almost halfway to double digits which I could very much be happy with #Cheese's personal molasses

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utopiaxd794 · 2 years

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coredrill · 2 years

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finally ordered an ssd 😭

#(said in the voice of someone who’s actually had time to gif in the last 6mos)#BUT MAYBE SOON NOW THAT TWO FRAMES HOPEFULLY WONT TAKE ME THIRTY MINUTES TO EXPORT #pls i got so many ttgl gifs i want to make 😭#n maybe edg/erunners idk we’ll see #also for those keeping score at home i DO still wanna commission ttgl art it’s just gonna be. october or in the new year LMAO #one day……………#t.txt

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probablyasocialecologist · 7 months

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How can a person make up for seven decades of misrepresentation and willful distortion in the time allotted to a sound bite? How can you explain that the Israeli occupation doesn’t have to resort to explosions—or even bullets and machine-guns—to kill? That occupation and apartheid structure and saturate the everyday life of every Palestinian? That the results are literally murderous even when no shots are fired? Cancer patients in Gaza are cut off from life-saving treatments. Babies whose mothers are denied passage by Israeli troops are born in the mud by the side of the road at Israeli military checkpoints. Between 2000 and 2004, at the peak of the Israeli roadblock-and-checkpoint regime in the West Bank (which has been reimposed with a vengeance), sixty-one Palestinian women gave birth this way; thirty-six of those babies died as a result.That never constituted news in the Western world. Those weren’t losses to be mourned. They were, at most, statistics. What we are not allowed to say, as Palestinians speaking to the Western media, is that all life is equally valuable. That no event takes place in a vacuum. That history didn’t start on October 7, 2023, and if you place what’s happening in the wider historical context of colonialism and anticolonial resistance, what’s most remarkable is that anyone in 2023 should be still surprised that conditions of absolute violence, domination, suffocation, and control produce appalling violence in turn. During the Haitian revolution in the early 19th century, former slaves massacred white settler men, women, and children. During Nat Turner’s revolt in 1831, insurgent slaves massacred white men, women, and children. During the Indian uprising of 1857, Indian rebels massacred English men, women, and children. During the Mau Mau uprising of the 1950s, Kenyan rebels massacred settler men, women, and children. At Oran in 1962, Algerian revolutionaries massacred French men, women, and children. Why should anyone expect Palestinians—or anyone else—to be different? To point these things out is not to justify them; it is to understand them. Every single one of these massacres was the result of decades or centuries of colonial violence and oppression, a structure of violence Frantz Fanon explained decades ago in The Wretched of the Earth. What we are not allowed to say, in other words, is that if you want the violence to stop, you must stop the conditions that produced it. You must stop the hideous system of racial segregation, dispossession, occupation, and apartheid that has disfigured and tormented Palestine since 1948, consequent upon the violent project to transform a land that has always been home to many cultures, faiths, and languages into a state with a monolithic identity that requires the marginalization or outright removal of anyone who doesn’t fit. And that while what’s happening in Gaza today is a consequence of decades of settler-colonial violence and must be placed in the broader history of that violence to be understood, it has taken us to places to which the entire history of colonialism has never taken us before.

#palestine #israel #gaza #zionism #settler colonialism

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thewulf · 4 months

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Not Just Pals || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hello darling! I have a request for you if you don't mind... It's a hangman x fem! Reader pen pals to friends to lovers kind of thing. Like maybe when he was in the academy someone put his name in this program to write to college students but joke on them because he got paired with reader and they hit it off almost instantly... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew! This one was for whatever reason really tough to write! I changed it up a little bit but I hope you guys still enjoy it. :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.9k +

T/W : Self-doubt

October 9th, 2014

Hi There Y/N,

I’m not sure how you’re really supposed to start one of these things? How are you supposed to go about talking to somebody you’ve literally never met before? Although the Navy/Army pen pal thing could be interesting. I’ll be honest, my buddy signed me up and I didn’t think I’d actually write anything down but then I got the email with your name on it, Cadet Y/N Y/L/N. Consider myself intrigued.

What’s it like up in New York? Is it cold? Do you get a lot of snow? It gets awfully cold down here in Maryland, so I have to imagine how cold it gets up there. I’m from Texas so I’m still adjusting to this weather… four years later. It’s not easy. I think it’s the hardest part of living in the northeast. I’d rather run a marathon with a thirty-pound pack on than sit outside in the snow for more than twenty minutes. I hope to get stationed somewhere warm when this is all set and done.

Your ‘about me’ says you’re going into the Air Defense Artillery after West Point… which is the exact opposite of what I’m doing. Consider myself doubly intrigued Cadet. What do you do? Fire missiles and rockets at jets? That can’t possibly be as much fun as firing them when you’re in the air. It’s cool just not nearly as cool as what I do, know what I mean? Maybe a close second though.

Have you even been in a jet before? I bet you’d like it. I obviously don’t know you, but I haven’t met many people who didn’t like it. There’s something so freeing about flying 1,000 miles per hour in a tiny silver tube. You should try it sometime. If this whole thing works out maybe I’ll even take you up one day, who knows?

I guess that was my attempt at 20 questions. Hopefully you didn’t find it too annoying. Hope to hear back from you soon!

Jake Seresin

November 23rd ,2014

Hello Future Lieutenant Jake Seresin,

I’m thrilled you actually decided to write. I’m glad my name was all you needed to pick up that pen. I have to admit you made me giggle a few times. You seem effortlessly funny Mr. Seresin. Even for a soon-to-be Pilot.

I find it comical you’re asking me about the weather of all things, Midshipmen. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on an awkward first date? But to answer your question, yes it’s cold as all get out up here. But I’m from Indiana so I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean I didn’t wish West Point wasn’t in Georgia or something. Why’d they have to put all the Military schools in the north?

What was it like growing up in Texas? Did you ever see snow? One of my favorite memories from this place is watching my roommate (who’s from Florida) see and play in snow for the first time. She froze her ass off but had the day of her life. She also hates snow now. So, it looks like you warm people have that in common.

To sum it up I guess you can say we fire rockets and missiles. My professors always say, ‘If it sounds like rocket science, it is’. Basically, we need to protect the ground troops from the flying bastards aka you. Although we do love our American flying bastards. So, I guess that doesn’t knock you down too many pegs in my book. Do you think they matched us up because our jobs are the antithesis of the other? If so, somebody had a hilarious sense of humor.

I’ve never been in a jet, and I have no plans to either. I don’t think I’d enjoy it if we’re being honest. You’re talking to the girl who gets sea-sick on cruises and had to take a motion pill if we’re going to an amusement park. My lil brain can’t handle the motion. A character flaw as they say. I also have a sense that you wouldn’t go to easy on me, being Army and all. I’ll stick to my calculations and rockets.

Don’t tell anybody I wrote this, but I do think what you guys do is so badass. I work with a bunch of jealous Cadets who couldn’t make it into the Army Aviation division, they’re just bitter. When I was little my dad used to take me to the Blue Angels shows in Chicago whenever they made their way across the States. Kind of the reason why I wanted to be in the military in the first place. But only my dad knows that. And well, I guess you now too. So, keep my secret safe Mr. Seresin.

I know the weather is less than desirable, but I do hope you’re finding things you love in Annapolis! There are some of the best crab cakes I’ve ever had there.

Thanks for the smiles after a long week!

Your New Friend,

Y/N Y/L/N

February 16th, 2015

Future Second Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N,

That has a right to it doesn’t it? Your name sounds good with a Second Lieutenant in front of it. Sorry it’s been so long since I wrote. Getting busy with graduation coming up and practical’s and all. It’s a lame excuse I know, but it’s all I got. I hope you know how big I smiled reading your letter to me. I read it about fifty times before I could write a decent response to you. You have a way with words that I haven’t read in a long, long time.

Was your father in the military? None of my family was. I also loved the Blue Angels when they came down to Houston for the air shows. I’d always beg and plead and finally my mom or sister would give in and take me. They’re also the reason I’m here. So, I guess we should thank them that we got to meet. Neither you nor I would be in these academies without them. Your secret is locked away in the drawer and safe in my head too. It’s super safe with me.

I’ll be honest, the food here is so damn good. I sure do miss my Texas barbeque, but the spread is better up over here. Plus, the snacks? I didn’t know there was different brands sold across the states and you guys have better girl scout cookies! That’s just not fair. I could’ve gone my whole life knowing that there were two versions of girl scout cookies and I got the worse version. I’ve enjoyed the move far more than I’ve regretted it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. It doesn’t guarantee I’ll be a pilot, but it means I’m one step closer to getting there.

What all schooling do you have to do after you graduate this spring? Are you up for deployment soon? I’ve got a lot left to go. If I get picked after I’ve got a few years of flight school ahead of me. Then I’ll really be off. Wish me luck I make it!

With Love,

Jake

March 13th, 2015

Mr. Seresin,

I was getting worried! I thought it was something I had wrote. I’m glad it’s your negligence and not mine for the lack of communication. I forgive you though. It’s been stressful up here in New York as well. I luckily don’t have any practical’s I need to worry about. Just a few nuclear engineering classes are standing in between me and graduation.

I just have a year of Officer School (if I get selected that is) after this is all set and done come June. We have to apply this April so I’m getting a little anxious about the whole thing. I don’t really have a backup plan that I’d actually like to do so I really, really hope I get selected. Enough about me though, let’s talk about you. You’re going to get picked! Don’t let any bad thoughts get in between you and your goal. I think you’ll make a fine pilot Jake. You seem to have your wits about you which is the first step a lot of people miss.

My dad was in the Navy, like you. Don’t gloat though, it’ll ruin the finely crafted image I have of you. He was a deck hand or something like that. I wish I could ask him some more about it, but he passed when I was just thirteen. I just remember he loved being in the Navy. He loved everything about it. He made it seem like anything was possible with a passion.

I’m glad you’re enjoying the food and the girl scout cookies. It took me by surprise when I got Peanut Butter Patties instead of Tagalongs when I was down south for a winter. I’m so glad I grew up where the real GSC are sold.

I hope this letter brought you as much joy as yours brought me.

With the Same Love,

Y/N

(P.S. – Here’s my number if you’d like to text instead of write. No pressure!)

It had only been a week since you sent the last letter. Sure, you hadn’t really known the guy all too well but there was something so exciting about sending written mail. You felt like a little kid on Christmas waiting for a response from him. Who knew throwing your name in something so silly for your class would bring you so much joy.

You sat down on your desk setting your computer out front of you to study. Jake was right. It was an awfully busy time of the year. Applying for your future. Studying for you exams. When you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket you truly didn’t think much of it. It was only hours later when you finally closed the laptop shut that you went to check it that your face scrunched in confusion. You didn’t recognize the area code. It was then that it clicked that it could be him.

No pressure at all text! Hi there (it’s Jake).

You grinned reading it over and over again. That was quick! Maybe you made an impression? You sure hoped so. You hardly even knew what the guy looked like. You might’ve gone digging a little when you got his name. He was cute. Handsome even. But he seemed like that type. That arrogant pilot type. But even in just the two letters you received from him you got the hint that he wasn’t that type of guy at all.

I didn’t think you’d actually text me. It’s good to hear from you.

The messages between the two of you were infrequent at best as the semester ended. But he never failed to put a smile on your face. When you needed a pick me up you went through and read the messages that popped up.

On your graduation day you sent him a picture of you and a few friends in a cap and gown with the text: Beat you! You’re also looking at your newest Officer Candidate too!

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply. Your face only grew with glee seeing his response: Congrats Second Lieutenant. And future Captain. Knew you’d do it. You look beautiful as always.

Typing a quick reply, you hid your smile away just knowing your friends would make a stupid comment about the mystery man that always had you so smiley: You’re making me blush all the way up here in New York. I better get a picture next weekend when you do the same, future Lieutenant.

He came through on your request. When you got the text you could only smile. You spotted him in the picture immediately, your eyes drawn to him. He was so damned handsome. How lucky were you to get paired with a guy like that? Your smile grew further when you read the message: Lieutenant (and future pilot) Jake Seresin reporting for picture duty.

The messages occurred naturally between through the years as you were deployed, and he was in school. Some months you texted more and some you didn’t hear from him at all. It never bothered you. The silly little thing called life happened for both of you.

Still, the two of you often made time for phone calls when the time was right. The first time you talked on the phone you thought you were going to quite literally throw up you were so nervous. But in typical Jake Seresin fashion he made you feel cool as a cucumber. You talked and talked and talked into the morning. It felt so normal. Like you were catching up with an old friend. Jake Seresin. Who was this man that was making it hard to date? He was quite literally everything you wanted and needed in a partner. The universe had a funny way of working sometimes.

It had been six long years since you received that first letter from him. He was off on a mission now. A dangerous one he couldn’t tell you much about. But he wanted you at his arrival back home in San Diego and you promised him you’d be there. Assured him. That’s how you ended up in here pacing in the hotel room contemplating whether you should really go or not. It felt too intimate, like you were intruding. But he did say none of his family would be there, they had other things going on as the mission was a bit of a surprise to everybody. The pilots were all instructed to keep it as quiet as possible.

Your hands were shaking as you parked your car in the overcrowded lot. Gripping the steering wheel, you took a long breath in. You could do this. You had to do this. For him, for you. You stepped out of the car and made you way to the dock. The aircraft carrier was already docked by the time you got to the meeting site. You stood back and waited. Watched and waited. It felt like an eternity then finally the men and women started pouring out in their Navy Whites. You’d always thought they looked the sharpest of the bunch, but you’d never tell Jake that. He’d make fun of your Army uniforms or something like that.

It felt like both an eternity and seconds later that you spotted him amongst the crowd of sailors exiting the ship searching high and low for you. You promised you’d be there. And here you were. He either felt your eyes on him or had an uncanny sense of timing as his eyes locked with your own. His smile had melted you right there on the spot. You felt helpless as you willed your brain to move but it wouldn’t. You only began to panic a little as he moved with ease through the crowd making his way right to you.

He stood in front of you. Jake Seresin stood in front of you, much taller than you thought, “I knew I recognized you. First Lieutenant Y/L/N.” His eyebrows raised as you gaped at him with wide eyes as if he wasn’t really there. Closing your mouth, you knew you needed to pull it together but that sounded much easier said than done. Jake freaking Seresin, your pen pal was really standing in front of you in real life. He was more of enigma in your mind at this point. Somebody you could have deep life conversations with so easily but never having actually met the man it was hard for you to grasp he was really real. And standing in front of you.

“Jake.” You smiled hoping it sounded somewhat normal. He was so much more handsome than the photos he sent through the years. How was that possible? Wasn’t it supposed to go the other way? You continued once your head finally could form coherent sentences, “Well it’s actually Captain now. Got promoted a couple weeks ago.”

He turned his head to the side just slightly, “You didn’t tell me that.” Almost looking offended you hadn’t told him.

“Never felt like the right time to divulge. With this mission and all. Had to keep you locked in.” You looked up to him now studying his face as you gained more courage talking to him. He was something your dreams couldn’t make up.

He nodded not daring to take his eyes off you. He too thought you were even prettier than he could have envisioned. You’d sent pictures and he’d followed your social media, but nothing could’ve prepared him. Especially in your civilian clothes, he was a sucker already. Deep down Jake knew you were the reason he was so non-committal before. He was looking for somebody just like you and couldn’t find her. Yet here you stood in front of him. You were so funny and witty and smart, and yet he couldn’t put it all into words. You are the whole package and so much more.

“You still could’ve told me. We talked enough before I left.” He grinned seeing that the tension was already easing from your shoulders.

You shook your head, “Wasn’t about me Seresin. I just wanted you to stay focused and safe. And thank goodness you did.” You admitted a little more than you wanted, but he just made you feel so gushy. Like you were a sweeter version of yourself you could hardly recognize. And the words just kept flowing out when he gave you that look with those green eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged you a bit sensing that you were starting to feel a bit more comfortable with him already, “Didn’t think you’d be so relieved darlin’.”

Ignoring the sweet term of endearment you shook your head, “And waste six years of my life on nothing? Jake that’s so inefficient. Of course, I want you safe.” The words came fast, and they were snarkier than you intended. But you truly couldn’t help it. He had you relaxed within the first five minutes of talking to him. You felt like you could just be you.

He threw his head back in laughter. That same weight had lifted right off his shoulders when you snapped back at him like he was waiting on it, “There she is. My favorite mouthy girl.”

He said it so nonchalantly you thought your heart was going to combust on the spot. Your cheeks surely gave way to your reaction to his words. His favorite mouthy girl? Christ. He was trying to send you into a coma or something! Your brain quite literally short circuited as it failed to form any coherent sentence. He only chuckled in response seeing your cheeks heat up in a blazing blush.

“It’s so nice to actually see you in person. You know I’ve always told you this, but it rings even truer even now. You’re quite a stunner, Captain.” His eyes met yours before you looked away quickly feeling as though you were going to faint at those words. You weren’t sure how this interaction was going to go initially. But you really didn’t think he’d come right out and say that he found you stunning. The occasional letter and texts in between had grown flirtier the longer you had known him, but it never crossed your mind he’d be so outright with it.

You turned away out of sheer bashfulness. Never had a man been so bold with you before. It was foreign. Not uncomfortable, no. Nothing could be with him. He made it easier than seemed possible.

“You flatter me Jake.” You grinned up at him hoping your makeup would hide the darkening of your cheeks, “I should say the same for you. Handsome as ever.”

“Now you’re making me blush, Cap.” Sure as hell the faintest pink dusted his cheek, but he seemed much stronger than you. He kept the eye contact going.

You shook your head trying to bite back the big smile you had on your face, but it showed through anyway. How was he doing this? Making you feel so giddy just by looking at him. You knew this man but for the first time it actually felt like you might actually love him. You’d had the deepest conversations with him. When you needed a laugh you texted him. When you craved advice you called him. He was the guy you turned to. And it dawned on you that he never failed to answer you. He wanted to take your calls and answer your texts. He looked forward to it. He too had fallen for a woman he’d never met before.

You needed the change the subject and fast or more words would be tumbling out, “How was the mission? Everyone make it out okay?” You asked having no idea what you were getting yourself into. Jake hadn’t told you much about what they were doing, couldn’t tell you much. But now that it was over he couldn’t wait to tell you every nitty gritty little detail.

“I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink?” He gave you a smirk that sent nerves racing throughout your body. Jesus. This man was something else.

Giving him a curious once over you nodded, “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink sailor? You coming home and all?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never let you buy me a drink darlin’.”

Gosh, Jake was actually going to be the death of you. He was so good making his words come off so easily. You felt terribly high strung next to him, “And why not?”

“Because I’m trying to woo you sweetheart. When I get you to go on a date with me I have to impress you. Inevitably that’ll work and you’ll become my girlfriend. And I can’t have my girlfriend paying for my drinks, no. And it’ll only get worse when I get the pleasure of marrying you. If my wife thinks she’ll pay for a thing she had another thing coming.” He gleamed at you as if he didn’t just say all of that.

You gulped before a stupid smile grew on your face. Of course, you knew he was forward but again, he just took you on an entirely new adventure with that statement, “That’s quite a bold statement Jake.”

He shrugged, “I thought I should make my intentions perfectly clear. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And you’re perfectly you. Sharp as tack. Funnier than ever. You’re you. And I really like you.”

You let out a breath not sure if you really believed all of that, “So not just pals, huh?” It was all you could think of quickly but that did it for him. Sealed the deal. He knew he was going to marry you right then and there. You’d complete him in every way he needed you and vice versa.

He shook his head taking his arm in yours, “Not just pals.” Leaning into his gentle embrace you led him to your car where he would not let you drive. He insisted that it was a gentleman’s job even if he was only running off four hours of sleep. You’d appeased the man who was on his very best behavior. Not that you minded. Nope, not at all. You were thrilled that Jake was exactly who he seemed to be. Your Jake. Not just pals indeed.

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