guccifrog2

[guccifrog2]

cutting up over you— jeonghan x reader

warnings : exes to lovers but in a fucked up way, gaslighting, possessiveness, emotional manipulation,Obsession & Stalking Undertones,bruising, desperate/possessive sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, mild degradation,Reader Being Emotionally Torn, spit kink (?).

————

There are two kinds of heartbreak.

The kind that shatters you in one clean blow—glass against tile, quick and bloody.

And the kind that’s slow.

That creeps up on you like black mold in your lungs. Rotting you from the inside while you keep smiling for the pictures.

Jeonghan was the second kind.

Because there was never a moment you fell for Jeonghan.

It wasn’t a gentle descent, like the sun dipping behind clouds or water washing over sand. It wasn’t innocent, or soft, or warm.

It was violent.

It was waking up one morning and realizing your skin already smelled like him.

You didn’t fall—you were pulled, dragged into him like gravity itself had bent around his smile.

He was beautiful, yes. Devastatingly so. But it wasn’t his looks that ruined you.

It was the way he looked at you.

Like he saw through your skin. Like he knew every fracture in your mind and every ugly thing you tried to hide—and loved you anyway. Worshipped you. Obsessively. Intimately. Until you couldn’t breathe without wondering what he’d think of it.

He was charming in that way that made your friends uneasy. Too good with words. Too good at being good—until he wasn’t.

Until he turned cold mid sentence. Until he kissed you with a kind of hunger that felt like punishment. Until he said things like:

“You’ll never find anyone who loves you like I do.”

“Why do you always think I’m trying to hurt you? Don’t you trust me?”

“You’d die without me, wouldn’t you?”

And you believed him.

Because loving Jeonghan wasn’t like love at all.

It was need.

It was religion.

It was burning your own house down just to feel the warmth.

He loved you like an artist destroying his masterpiece mid-brushstroke.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Back when you still thought it was love.

The relationship was an illusion. A beautiful, intoxicating illusion that he maintained with precision. One minute he was your lifeline, whispering how he couldn’t live without you. The next, he was a stranger, gaslighting you into believing you were the problem. That you were too sensitive. Too clingy. Too dramatic.

He never raised his voice.

He didn’t need to.

Jeonghan’s cruelty was quiet.

Like a razor blade in a silk glove.

He’d kiss you and say you were perfect—right after making you apologize for “imagining things.”

He’d bring you flowers—after making you cry for hours over something he swore never happened.

He'd fuck you like you were his last breath—then leave you wondering why you felt so empty after.

And still, you stayed. Because staying felt like survival.

Until it didn’t.

The breaking point was not as dramatic as you thought it’d be.

There was no screaming. No final betrayal. No cheating or scandal or glass shattered against walls. That would’ve made it easier. That would’ve made it make sense.

It was a Tuesday.

Rain on the windows. You’d skipped breakfast. He showed up late, didn’t answer your texts, and when you asked—gently, softly, scared of your own voice—he tilted his head and said:

“Why do you always assume the worst of me? That’s kind of toxic.”

Toxic.

You.

The word hit harder than anything else ever had.

You stared at him. Really stared. Past the pretty face. Past the charm. And what you saw wasn’t love.

It was ownership. obsession.

It was fear wearing the mask of passion.

Something in you snapped. Not loud. Not loud at all.

Just…done.

You told him you were leaving. That it was over. He blinked. Smiled. Tilted his head again like he hadn’t heard you right.

“Come on,” he said softly, like you were joking. “You’re just upset. You’ll feel better after we sleep.”

But you weren’t upset.

You were exhausted.

"No," you said. "This isn’t love."

He didn’t argue. Didn’t chase. He stood, kissed your forehead—your fucking forehead, like a goodbye you didn’t ask for, and walked out the door.

Just like that.

No fight.

No closure.

No apology.

Just silence.

And that silence? It never left you.

It crawled into your bed. Sat beside you when you cried. Whispered that maybe he was right.

Maybe you were too much.

Maybe you really would die without him.

And at night—when the lights were off and the walls felt too close—you swore you could feel him watching.

But you told yourself you were just paranoid.

That it was trauma.

That you were healing.

You didn’t know then—

The worst part hadn’t even begun.

Because after Jeonghan left, it was too quiet.

Not just in your apartment.

In your body.

The silence wrapped around your ribs like barbed wire. You’d wake up gasping, not from nightmares—but from the unbearable stillness. No voice next to you. No heat beside you in bed. No fingers brushing your cheek while murmuring half-sweet, half-sick things like "mine mine mine"

You didn’t miss him.

You missed the way he ruined you so beautifully.

You missed the attention. The ownership. The high of being adored by someone who could also destroy you with a single word. There was a sick comfort in knowing his moods, in dancing around his coldness, in earning affection like a prize.

Now you had nothing.

No games.

No bruises to map out in the mirror and pretend were love.

Just you.

Your skin.

And the guilt.

Your friends tried to help. Sort of.

They were supportive in the way people are when they don’t really know what you’ve been through. Coffee dates. Encouraging texts. “Proud of you” sprinkled in like glitter to cover the cracks in your voice.

You just nodded. Smiled. Bit your tongue until it bled.

Because they didn’t understand that surviving Jeonghan wasn’t the hard part.

It was what came after.

The constant need to prove that you were okay. To act like you didn’t want to scream every time your phone buzzed. To lie and say you didn’t look for him in crowds. That you weren’t still craving his presence.

Your therapist said it was withdrawal.

Said people like Jeonghan rewired your nervous system. That trauma bonds can mimic love. That obsession and abuse often look like romance from the inside. That it wasn’t your fault.

But it still felt like your fault.

Because even when you were healing, even when you were journaling, meditating, drinking herbal tea, and doing fucking shadow work—you still thought about him.

You still touched yourself thinking about his voice.

You still caught yourself listening to voicemails you never remembered receiving.

“Don’t forget me,” one of them whispered. No caller ID. No timestamp.

You blocked the number.

And that’s when it all started.

The noises.

First, the floorboards creaked at night. Then came the lights— off when they should’ve been on. The bedroom window, open, even though you hadn’t touched it in weeks.

Once, your underwear drawer was pulled slightly open.

Another time, your towel was damp when you knew it hadn’t been used.

You told yourself it was anxiety.

That your brain was playing tricks on you.

That you were traumatized, not haunted.

Because Jeonghan couldn’t be here. That would be insane.

That would mean he’d never left.

Right?

You started sleeping with a knife under your pillow.

Stopped posting your location.

Stopped going out after dark.

Your friends noticed. You brushed it off.

They started suggesting therapy more often.

Your therapist started asking if you felt safe in your home.

You lied.

You said yes.

Because how the fuck could you explain it?

How could you explain the way your skin prickled when you stepped out of the shower—like someone was watching?

How could you explain the scent?

The same scent he used to wear.

Lingering on your sheets in the middle of the night.

How could you explain the dream you had where he was on top of you, mouth on your neck, hand between your thighs, and when you woke up, you were sore in all the places he touched?

Dreams don’t leave bruises.

But you told yourself they did.

Because the alternative was too terrifying.

Then came the sightings.

The street corner near your apartment, he was there, standing still, too still. Back turned, hoodie pulled low. You blinked. He was gone.

A tall figure in the crowd with the same posture, same gait, same lazy hands shoved in pockets like nothing could touch him.

You told yourself it wasn’t real.

You told yourself ghosts don’t wear Dior cologne.

You told yourself if you turned around fast enough, he wouldn’t be there.

But he always was.

Just for a second.

After that, you'd wake up every night around 3:17 a.m.

Always.

Exactly.

At first, you thought it was just your body readjusting. That trauma and therapy and whatever the hell grief really was—messed up your internal clock.

But then the pattern started forming.

You’d wake up sweaty. Thirsty. Needing something.

Your thighs pressed tight together.

Heart racing.

Like you’d just come down from something filthy.

The dreams got worse. Or better.

You couldn’t tell anymore.

You’d fall asleep and find yourself back in his apartment.

Naked. Bruised. Tied up.

You never saw his face. But you felt his breath on your neck. His voice in your spine.

“Tell me you miss me.”

“Tell me no one else touches you like I do.”

“Tell me you want me back.”

And you always did.

Even in dreams.

You started writing them down in your journal. Your therapist told you that might help.

It didn’t.

Because you weren’t writing dreams.

You were documenting memories you never remembered having

Once, you woke up crying.

Another time, you woke up cuming.

That was the night you found your front door unlocked.

You were so sure you locked it. Triple checked. Always did.

But that night the bolt was turned, the chain was loose. And your bedroom smelled like sandalwood and him.

You didn’t sleep.

You sat in the corner with a knife, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

The next day, you tried to be brave.

You dressed up. Did your makeup. Went on a date.

The guy was nice. Kind of funny. Not your type.

Which is to say—he wasn’t Jeonghan.

You tried to laugh. You tried to listen. You tried to stay in the moment. But then his hand brushed your thigh, you flinched so hard the drink in your hand shattered.

The guy looked confused.

You excused yourself to the bathroom. Sat in the stall shaking.

Because in the second that stranger touched you, your body screamed wrong.

Because it wasn’t him.

Because the only hands you wanted were the ones that used to bruise you.

You went home early.

Blocked the date’s number.

Cried in the shower.

Tried not to imagine him in the room with you, watching, waiting.

You failed.

Because Jeonghan lived in your mind like mold. Spreading. Rancid. Unseen.

And the next morning, there was a bite mark on your thigh.

Faint. Deep. Familiar.

Your first instinct was denial.

Then panic.

Then—

Desire.

Because even now, even after all this time—you still wanted him.

You still wanted the hands that hurt you. The mouth that ruined you. The man you left but never escaped.

The final straw came three days later.

You were in the shower again. Hot water. Lavender soap. Eyes closed. Trying to scrub yourself clean of the past.

You scrubbed your skin until it turned red, your shoulders relaxed, your body softened.

Maybe you were okay.

Maybe tonight, you’d sleep.

But when you stepped out—towel wrapped around your body, hair dripping, heart calm, you saw it.

Your bedroom door. Open.

Your phone. Moved.

And him.

Jeonghan.

Lying on your bed. Hands behind his head. Legs crossed. Eyes dark.

His mouth curled.

“Finally,” he said.

“You looked so pretty screaming my name every night. I was starting to think you wanted me to come back.”

Your breath caught. Your hand clutched the towel tighter. The room was suddenly colder than the water you’d just left behind.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even scream.

Because you knew he’d never left.

And he was never going to.

He sat up, the bed groaning under his weight. His eyes trailed over your wet, trembling body.

His eyes studying every inch of skin like they’re memorizing the bruises he hasn’t given you yet.

His chest rising slow. Measured.

His jaw clenched like he’s holding back from tearing you apart.

You don’t move.

Can’t.

Water drips from your hair down your back, and the towel suddenly feels too thin, too small, too vulnerable.

"Come here" he says, his voice a low purr that sends a chill down your spine.

Three words. Simple. Soft.

But you’ve never heard a command sound like a promise before.

You shake your head, whispering, “No.”

And he smiles. The fucker smiles.

Not cruel. Not angry.

Worse—fond. Like you’re cute for thinking you still have choices.

“You’ve been waiting for me. I gave you time to pretend otherwise.”

He sits up slowly, his voice is lower now. Quieter.

“You let them convince you that you could live without me.”

“You even lied to yourself about it.”

“But tell me the truth, baby...”

He rises, walking toward you. You take one step back. He takes two forward. A game. One you always lose.

“When you touched yourself…was it ever anyone else in your head?”

You don’t answer.

Because your thighs are clenched. Your nipples are hard under the towel. Your mouth is dry.

And he knows.

He stops right in front of you. Leans down. Breath brushes your jaw.

“I’ll remind you.”

His voice whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. You try to push him away, but your arms are weak, trembling. His hand reaches for the towel, his fingertips grazing your skin.

the towel drops.

Your breath catches.

He doesn’t touch you yet. He stares. Like you’re art. Like you’re a prize he already won, but wants to unwrap again, slowly.

Then he grabs your throat—gently, but with pressure—and pushes you back onto the bed.

You hit the mattress with a soft thud, legs open, body naked, mind reeling.

He climbs over you, one knee between your thighs. He doesn’t kiss you. Not yet.

Instead, he traces the line of your neck with a finger, watching your pulse race. His other hand slides down your body, over your ribs, your stomach, until it rests right above your clit. He’s not touching you where you need it most, but he’s so close that your whole body feels electrified.

You whimper, trying to arch into his touch, but his grip tightens, keeping you pinned.

"Easy," he warns. "Remember who's in control here."

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan as his hand finally makes contact with your clit, his thumb circling with featherlight strokes that make your hips jerk upward. You're torn between the desire to push him away and the need for more of his touch

“So wet,” he murmurs. “Were you hoping I’d come back?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

He slips two fingers inside and presses his thumb to your clit, watching your body jolt like a marionette on strings. His strings.

You hate it.

You hate how good it feels.

You hate him.

But your body is a traitor.

It remembers his touch, craves his dominance.

You try to fight, but your hips betray you, grinding against his hand.

He chuckles, low and dark.

“I’ve missed this.”

He’s not asking if you’ve missed him.

He’s telling you that he’s missed making you feel like this.

Your breath hitches as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, setting a rhythm that you can’t fight. Your eyes squeeze shut, but you see him everywhere.

“Look at me,” he commands.

Your eyes flutter open. The room is a blur of half-light, his face the only thing in focus. His gaze is unrelenting, his eyes holding yours hostage. You want to look away, but you can’t.

He pumps his fingers faster.

You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you know is the burn of his touch, the flood of arousal soaking the sheets, the ache of your body remembering exactly how to fall apart for him.

His grip on your throat tightens. Not enough to cut off air, just enough to make everything else irrelevant.

You cum fast. Too fast.

He doesn’t stop.

Your back arches. He adds a third finger.

“That’s one.”

You blink. Confused.

“We’re not done, sweetheart. You’ve got more in you. You owe me.”

His words hang in the air as your orgasm subsides, leaving you trembling and exposed. He pulls his hand away, smearing your wetness across your belly, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then he’s pulling away, lining himself up, and in one deep, slow thrust, he’s inside.

You cry out, half-moan, half-scream.

He fills you so perfectly it’s obscene. Like you were made to hold him. Like every nerve ending in your body was coded to remember him and only him.

“Tight,” he groans. “Missed this fucking pussy.”

Your eyes burn with tears as he starts to move, his hips rolling into yours with a familiar, punishing rhythm. The bed frame hits the wall, echoing through the silent apartment. The sound is almost comforting—proof that this is real. That you’re not just trapped in another dream.

Your nails dig into his back—he smiles.

“You like when it hurts, don’t you?”

“You like knowing no one else gets to fuck you like this.”

He’s right. You do. And you hate it.

The way he says it—like he’s peeling back every layer of your soul to expose your deepest, darkest secret—makes you want to claw at his eyes, rip out his tongue. But the pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming, and your body is responding against your will.

You can feel his smirk against your neck as he starts to move, his hips slamming into yours with a force that sends waves of pain and pleasure through your body. You’re so wet that every movement is a slick slide, his cock filling you up until you think you might break.

You cum again—legs shaking, body convulsing. It’s like he’s waking up every nerve ending in your body that had been lying dormant, forced into submission. Jeonghan's teeth graze your neck, his breath hot and hungry, his eyes gleaming with victory.

“Two.”

He doesn’t stop.

He throws your legs over his shoulders and hits deeper, harder.

Your voice is gone.

You’re just a series of whimpers and gasps, each one feeding his ego.

The pain mixes with the pleasure in a sickening cocktail that you know you shouldn’t enjoy.

But you do.

And that makes you despise him more.

He’s everywhere. His weight, his scent, his breath, his voice, his eyes, his hands, his cock.

You can’t escape him.

“J-Jeonghan, please—” you whimper, your voice shaking.

But it’s not a protest.

It’s a plea.

A desperate, needy, pathetic plea for what you know he’s going to give you.

For what you’re going to take.

His eyes light up at the sound of your voice, broken and begging. He leans in, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

“Say it again,” he whispers, his breath hot on your face. “Tell me how much you’ve missed this.”

“I missed you—fucking missed you—need you—”

The words taste bitter, but they’re all he’ll let you say.

He groans, a victory growl that vibrates through his chest and into yours. His hips piston harder, faster, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that makes you see stars.

You fucking hate it, but you can’t help the moan that bubbles up from your chest. He’s winning, and you’re letting him.

Then, without warning He spits into your mouth the salty wetness mixing with the tears on your tongue. He kisses you hard, his teeth scraping your lips, forcing your mouth open wider, invading your space in a way that’s both violating and strangely familiar.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s the kiss of a man reclaiming what’s his.

And as you cum again—hands clutching the sheets, back arching, muscles tightening around his cock—he follows. His movements become erratic, his breath hitching.

You can feel his climax building, his cock swelling, and it’s like you’re riding a wave of pure power. You hate it. You love it. You can’t tell anymore.

His release fills you, hot and thick, and you clench around him, your body milking every last drop.

“I’m not done,” he says.

“You think I came back for just one round?”

He cups your cheek.

“I’m staying, baby. You know that, right?”

You nod.

You cry.

You arch your hips and let him keep going.

Because what else can you do?

Your body is his playground, and he’s not about to leave without exploring every inch.

------

guys I wrote the smut at like 4 in the morning if u see smt that doesn't make sens–no tf u didn't 🦙

[guccifrog2]

Hiii, can you do bf text with Minghao? Pls

TEXTS WITH BF! MINGHAO

[guccifrog2]

tajahao xu minghao hao hao hao

xu minghao 徐明浩 – Pinkies Linked

Minghao has never been the type for grand gestures. He doesn’t need to prove anything with flashy words or over the top displays. Love to him is quieter than that, slipping a jacket over your shoulders before you realize you’re cold, pulling you to his side when a bike speeds past too close, refilling your glass before you even notice it’s empty.

And then, there’s this.

The way his pinky always, always finds yours when you walk together. It’s barely even a touch, just the hook of his finger around yours, like a secret only the two of you know. He might not even realize he does it but you notice. You always do.

"You do that a lot" you murmur, looking down at your hands.

You don’t know why you’ve never said it out loud before. Maybe because it feels natural, like something he’s always done, something you’ve always accepted without question.

But now that you’ve put it into words, you find yourself wanting to know the reason behind it.

"Do what?"

You wiggle your pinky against his. "This."

His lips twitch, like he’s amused you even noticed. "Ah." A pause. Then, a small, knowing smile plays at his lips "Maybe I just like the reminder"

"Reminder of what?"

"That you’re right here" he murmurs, giving the slightest tug, like he’s grounding himself to you. "And that I am too"

我真的好爱明浩啊 😭🥹💗

Your heart stumbles over itself, warmth pooling in your chest. You don’t reply, just tightening your pinky around his, letting the silence speak for itself.

[guccifrog2]

lee seokmin 李碩珉 – Sunshine in Human Form

seokmin covers your face in tiny kisses when you’re feeling down

You sighed, slumping deeper into the couch, arms crossed as you stared blankly at the wall. It had been a rough day and all you wanted to do was disappear into your hoodie and never come out.

You barely reacted when Seokmin flopped down next to you, head tilted as he studied your grumpy expression.

“Tough day?” he asked, voice softer than usual

You just hummed keeping your eyes on the ceiling

“Mwah.”

A tiny kiss landed on your cheek. You blinked.

For a second, there was silence then before you could protest he cupped your cheeks and started peppering tiny kisses all over your face.

“Mwah! Mwah! Mwah-mwah mwah!”

Another. And another.

“Seokmin-”

His exaggerated smooching sounds were absolutely ridiculous, and he did them with such commitment that you couldn’t hold back a smile making him gasp dramatically.

“Was that a giggle? A giggle???? ”

More kisses. More mwahs. Louder this time. Sloppier. One on your nose. Another on your forehead.

You burst into laughter shoving at his chest, but he just tackled you into the couch, caging you in with his arms.

“There it is! My favorite sound” he grinned, finally pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Feeling better now?”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warm “Maybe a little.”

“Mwah” he whispered again against your forehead. “Just making sure.”

[guccifrog2]

goodmorning to you too cheol

[guccifrog2]

[ 용복 ] ✷ ‎flustered !

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏sf!felix ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ smut , oral [male receiving] , unprotected sex , sub felix , established relationship. 2IOOw. ⎯⎯⎯ ⟢ ┆ ⟡ ݁₊ ⋮ oneshot .ᐟ ֹ ₊

mika’s love letters ⟡ ݁₊ happy birthday hyunjinnie!!! also again sorry if you’ve read this before i reposted it. also this is kinda ass my bad :( comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated <3 asks are always open !! happy reading <3

“why is it so hot in here?" you mutter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. leaning your head against chan’s chest, you try to focus on the movie you suggested, but the heat makes it hard to relax. across from you, felix is sprawled on the other couch, absorbed in his phone.

"chan, move a second," you say, pulling your head off his chest as you begin tugging off your sweatshirt. you don’t realize at first, but your tank top lifts with it. to make things worse, felix happens to look up from his phone at the exact moment.

"your shirt—holy shit!" chan exclaims, quickly pulling it back down to cover you.

"oh my god, i’m so sorry!" you gasp, eyes wide with shock as embarrassment washes over you. you steal a glance at felix, catching him mid-gulp, his face flushing pink as the moment replays in his head, his mouth agape. he struggles to look away, his gaze lingering on your chest.

in the corner of your eye, you notice something else—felix’s grey sweatpants, doing little to hide the growing bulge beneath them.

you leaned back on the couch, a playful idea forming after seeing felix so flustered. deciding to tease him, you slowly ran your fingertips up your torso, pausing at the strap of your tank top. matt’s eyes were still fixed on you, widening as he nervously grabbed a pillow, trying to discreetly cover the evidence of his arousal before chan could notice.

with a coy smile, you slipped your fingers under the strap, pulling it down just enough to reveal your hardened nipple. felix’s eyes widened even further, caught between desire and panic, unsure where to look or how to react.

“i—i need to go shower,” felix muttered, his voice shaky as he shoved his hands into his pockets and hurriedly walked toward the nearest bathroom.

“what’s he in such a rush for?” chan asked, turning to watch felix disappear around the corner and sprint up the stairs.

“he’s a weird kid,” you giggled, giving chan’s leg a playful tap. "i’m getting tired, though. do you mind if i head to sleep? i mean, i can totally stay if you want me to," you offered, feeling a slight bit of guilt about what you were planning to do to his best friend.

“no, it’s fine! go get some rest,” chan replied with a smile. you gave him a light kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair as you stood up, heading toward the stairs, quietly following in felix’s footsteps.

you pressed your ear gently against the bathroom door, you could hear the soft whimpers and the faint sound of your name escaping felix’s lips. the sweet, desperate way he murmured it sent a surge of heat through you, and before you knew it, you were already wet, the anticipation stirring something deep inside you.

the thrill of knowing he had no idea you’d followed him made your heart race, adrenaline surging through your veins. suddenly, the door swung open, and there he was, standing right in front of you. his face flushed bright red, eyes wide with shock as you looked up at him with a feigned innocence, your gaze locking onto his dilated pupils.

"want my help with that, lixie?" you whispered, glancing down at his still hard dick, smiling up at him as your hands rested on his chest. the sound of your sultry voice hung in the air, causing his breath to catch, his body reacting immediately to the teasing tone, the hard-on he couldn’t relieve himself still noticeable.

"uh... i—i..." he stammered, his gaze darting away from your eyes, struggling to find the words. “s—sure, okay..." he mumbled, unsure of what you really meant. his innocence was almost painfully obvious.

"follow me, lix," you said with a playful smile, taking his hand. as you led him to his bedroom, he couldn't help but let his eyes drift to your ass, completely entranced.

you swung the bedroom door open and gently pushed felix onto the soft bed, his back pressing against the headboard.

his eyes widened as you slowly straddled his thigh, careful not to move too quickly. you could sense his inexperience, knowing he'd never felt the touch of a woman like this before.

he felt your wetness against his thigh, a rush of excitement flooding him at the realization that you wanted him this badly. as much as you ached to grind down and find your own release, you reminded yourself that tonight was all about felix’s pleasure.

he seemed unsure of what to do with his hands, keeping them awkwardly pressed to his sides as his gaze darted nervously around the room. his face flushed a deep red, so flustered that it was almost endearing.

you trailed feather-light kisses up the nape of his neck, drawing a soft, almost desperate whimper from his lips at the simple touch. "already so loud," you teased, your voice low as you began sucking hickeys onto his skin, marking him with dark bruises.

pulling away, you slowly peeled off your tank top, teasing him with every inch revealed until your perky breasts were fully exposed. "finally got a good look, huh?" you giggled, watching as his wide eyes locked onto your chest, his breath hitching. he swallowed hard, feeling his cock strain uncomfortably against his sweatpants.

he nodded frantically, running his fingers through his hair, now damp and sticking to his forehead from sweat. "don't be scared," you reassured him, knowing he wanted to touch you but was too nervous, afraid of making a mistake. gently, you took his trembling hands and placed them on your chest. he began massaging them softly, careful as if he thought he might hurt you if he applied too much pressure.

when his fingers tentatively pinched your hardened nipples and rolled them between his thumb and index finger, a soft whimper escaped your lips. "so, you do know what you're doing?" you teased, your voice almost breaking into a needy whine.

"i—i guess... not really. i've just... watched a couple things," he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed.

“oh, really?" you murmured with a sly smile, your fingertips tracing over his clothed cock. he let out a loud whine, squirming uncomfortably, desperate for more. "you want me to touch you?" you asked, your voice dripping with temptation.

"p—please," he whispered, releasing your breasts and clutching the sheets beneath him as your fingers teased him slowly, driving him mad.

"beg for it," you smirked, watching his eyes widen in surprise. embarrassment flushed his face as he bit his trembling lip, clearly conflicted but so desperate for your touch.

"i'll do anything... jus' want your mouth on my d—dick," he stammered, barely getting the last word out, his need overcoming his hesitation.

the desperation in his voice was enough to make you relent. slowly, you slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down until his length sprung free, slapping against his lower stomach. you continued, sliding them all the way down to his ankles. his tip was pink and swollen, a few beads of pre-cum already glistening at the slit, betraying just how sensitive he was.

you looked up at him, your gaze intense, as his eyebrows furrowed in anticipation. he gripped the back of the headboard, his body tense. slowly, you lowered your head, sticking your tongue out to place a soft, teasing lick on his tip. "s—shit!" he gasped, his reaction sharp at the slightest touch.

“so sensitive," you whispered, your voice sending a shiver through him, making his entire body tense as the vibrations intensified against his cock.

he panted heavily, his eyes squeezed shut as his head fell back, lost in pleasure.

"eyes open. look at me," you commanded, pulling your mouth off his dick. his eyes shot open, meeting yours instantly. you locked eyes as you wrapped your lips around his tip again, and his hips bucked slightly, making you gag.

"ah—fuck, yeah," he groaned, and the sound sent a throb straight to your clit. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, turning it swollen and flushed, driving your desire higher.

he grew more confident, his fingers hesitantly gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he started to fuck your face. spit coated his cock, slick and messy, dripping down as his tip repeatedly hit the back of your throat.

"m’gonna cum—please," he whined, his voice trembling as you gripped his thighs for support.

"cum f’me, pretty boy," you urged, feeling his stomach tense beneath your touch as he edged closer to release.

"mmph—!" he whimpered loudly, his body trembling as warm ropes of cum spilled down your throat.

your mouth slipped off his sensitive cock with a wet pop, and he hissed from the overstimulation. "now it's your turn to help me," you said, your voice low and commanding.

as he remained propped against the headboard, you stood up and turned around, slipping off your sweatpants and black thong in one fluid motion. his eyes followed every movement, as you bent over. for a few moments, you stood before him, silent, letting him take in the sight of your body. this was the first time he had ever seen a woman naked in person, and his gaze lingered.

"y’so pretty," he murmured confidently, his voice low as he grew hard again. you approached him with deliberate, teasing slowness, the air between you thick with tension. straddling his lap, you placed your hands on his shoulders for balance, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. you were so wet by now that it took little effort to guide him, gripping the base of his cock and gliding it slowly through your slick folds, teasing both of you with the anticipation.

you slowly sank down onto his length, taking him in completely until you were fully seated, your body relaxing against his. "fuck—" he groaned, exhaling sharply as the sensation of your walls tightening around him overwhelmed him.

you guided his hands to your hips, urging him to hold you as you began to grind slowly against him. “so full," you whimpered, your voice breathless as his cock stretched and filled you perfectly. each slow movement sent waves of pleasure through you, making it impossible to hold back your soft moans.

"so fuckin' tight around me," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass as he pulled you closer. you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his neck and up to his jaw, the sensation of your body moving against his driving you both wild. as you bounced on his cock, the sound of slapping skin echoed through the room

“lix—!" you moaned, the sound desperate and unrestrained as your movements quickened. each time you sank down, his hips thrust up to meet yours, hitting your sweet spot with perfect precision, making your pussy tighten around him.

"m’so close," he groaned, his breath ragged, already on the edge of his second orgasm of the night.

"jus'... wait for me," you murmured, leaning forward, your breath shaky. felix immediately took your left breast into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he sucked softly. his hand moved to your right breast, gently massaging it, making sure neither of them was left wanting. the sensation made you tremble, every touch amplifying the building heat between you both.

a cry escaped your lips as you dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving scratches in your wake. your legs trembled uncontrollably as you both reached the peak together. you felt his warmth spill inside you, his cum painting your walls in waves of pleasure. slowly, you relaxed on top of him, both of you breathless as he pulled you close, wrapping his arms tightly around your back.

"can we do that more often?" felix muttered, his voice muffled as he smiled into the nape of your neck. you looked down at him, gently brushing his brunette curls away from his face. with a soft smile, you leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips—tender and loving, a stark contrast to the messy one you'd shared just moments before.

you rolled off his body, settling beside him on the bed, feeling his cum slowly drip down your thighs. felix stood up, heading into the bathroom. he returned with a flannel in hand, gently cleaning you up as you ran your fingers through his hair.

afterwards, you both got dressed and quietly made your way down the stairs, fingers intertwined. you tiptoed, hoping chan had already gone to bed.

"i think we're good," you giggled, leaning up to press a long kiss to felix’s lips.

"y'all gotta be quieter next time," chan muttered, and you both froze in shock, turning around to find him standing there, his voice the last thing you expected to hear.

comments, likes, asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! thank you for reading love, hope you liked it <3

[guccifrog2]

I love her sm stawp

Who do you talk to the most on here? Well some of them

@muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @luverboychris @guccifrog2 @nickssidewitch @sturndesire @chrisspussygang @teddystvrns @imgoing-backto505

omg i always feel terrible with questions like this cause i can’t think straight 😭

[guccifrog2]

hi i miss u

hi omg I miss u too (we just talked like an hour ago)

[guccifrog2]

[ 현진 ] ✷ ‎pretty pink lips !

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏f!hyunjin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ smut , oral [fem receiving] , established relationship. 600w. ⎯⎯⎯ ⟢ ┆ ⟡ ݁₊ ⋮ drabble .ᐟ ֹ ₊

mika’s love letters ⟡ ݁₊ my bad if you have read this before because i lowk stole it from my old sturniolo account and just changed the name to hyunjin </3 comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated <3 asks are always open !! happy reading <3

"be quiet f’me," hyunjin murmured, his eyes locking with yours as he glanced up from between your thighs. his lips brushed feather-light kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding the spot where you ached for him the most.

"mmm—jinnie," you whimpered, squirming beneath his touch.

"shh, baby…" he muttered, his breath warm against your skin, right before dragging a slow, teasing lick up your dripping folds.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling tightly, and the deep moan that escaped him vibrated through your core. your back arched off the bed as your thighs clenched around his head, holding him close.

with his lips sealed around your clit, he lazily sucks it into his mouth, his tongue moving slowly and gently over the sensitive skin.

his strong hands pin your hips down, keeping you from squirming as your grip on his tousled brunette curls tightens. he lets out a soft whine against you, the vibration sending a shiver through your body.

“harder, baby,” hyunjin groans, his voice thick with need, before his mouth returns to your swollen, puffy clit, latching on with renewed intensity.

your stomach clenched, and your legs began to tremble as he pressed them firmly into the bed, holding you in place. desperately, you gripped the soft, pink floral sheets beneath you, riding the wave of your orgasm that crashed over you.

“hyun— i— it hurts!” you whimpered, tugging on his hair. he looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes and a pretty smirk on his face, a stark contrast to the intensity of his touch.

“y’can take it,” he murmured, before sliding his middle and ring fingers into your entrance without warning. the sudden stretch pulled a loud, shameless moan from your lips. his pace remained relentless as he suckled messily on your swollen clit, drawing out every last sensation.

he was so hard just from tasting you, it ached. desperate for relief, he grinded himself against the bed, trying to ease the painful pressure in his pants.

you wrapped your legs tightly around his head, pulling him closer to your core. he momentarily lifted his lips from you to catch his breath, and the sight of him made your heart skip—his face glistened with your wetness, his pretty pink lips slightly parted, breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes heavy with exhaustion but still full of hunger.

"hyunjin, don’t—don’t stop..." you whimpered, your hips instinctively bucking up toward his face.

"wasn't plannin' on it," he smirked, and without hesitation, his fingers quickened inside you, curling just right, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot.

he was completely lost in you, drunk on the taste of your pussy, his mind too fogged with lust to think of anything else. his cock throbbed painfully, trapped in his grey sweatpants, as he rutted into the mattress for any kind of release.

"mmph— hyune!" you moaned, and the sound of his name rolling off your lips was all it took. his body went rigid, and with a strangled groan, he came hard in his pants, hips jerking as his lips finally broke free from you.

he rested his head against your inner thighs, eyes closed as you gently stroked his hair, the both of you savoring the quiet moment. after a few breaths, he lifted himself from between your legs and crawled on top of you, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. the taste of yourself lingered on his tongue, making the kiss all the more intoxicating.

"my turn..." you giggled, sitting up and playfully pushing him back against the headboard, your eyes sparkling with lust.

comments, likes, asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! thank you for reading love, hope you liked it <3

[guccifrog2]

We have so much to catch up on honestly 😔💔

AAAAHH YES HMU IMMA GIVE U MY INSTA

[guccifrog2]

GIRL I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE BACK OMFGGGG

MILLS MY BABY I MISS U WTF NSJQKQKW

[guccifrog2]

HAPPY CHRIS MAIN HOES ANNIVERSARY WTF!?!?!?!?

I literally don’t know what the hell I was expecting when I downloaded this app, but it damn sure wasn’t finding a group of girls who feel like they were handpicked by the universe HOW did we even find each other?? God said “you know what… let’s throw a bunch of unhinged, emotionally unstable, ride or die baddies in a groupchat and see what happens.”

anygays

@mattslolita MY BABYYYY A LITTERAL SWEETHEART she has the warmest and most welcoming heart ever AND I DONT PLAY ABOUT HERRR also so unhinged adorable funny and pretty and I live for her stories about her crush I get so invested 😭 one day we gonna shake ass in the clurb together TRUSTTTT I LOVE U SO MUCH ANGEL RAHHHH

@muwapsturniolo BIG MAMMAAAA PEACHES You’re actually insane but in the most comforting way possible like if a weighted blanket had intrusive thoughts, i lowkey consider u like a big sis and ONE OF THE FUNNIEST AND BADDEST BITCHES ALIVE TOO THIS HO NEVER FAILS TO MAKE WHEEZ HER INSULTS ARE SO CREATIVE especially when she's mad BUT don't play with her u will regret the day u decided to come out of the cooch frfr love u badddd peaches muah

@luverboychris AIDSSSS COOCHIE GRABBER (?) 🫳🫳🫳🫳 I ALWAYS REMEMBER U WHEN I SEE THAT DAMN EMOJI LMAOO You are literally the funniest bitch ALIVE and somehow still manage to be the hottest too like pick a struggle damn???I actually don’t think the groupchat would function without you. NEVER change and NEVER stop i will always remember you when I see that stupid ass emoji and I’ll SMILE every damn time. Love you down crazy ass 🦭💋

@thenickgirl RIRIIII MY ANGEL MY QUEEN You are genuinely one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met online like HELLO?? You always be saying the sweetest shit and it hits me straight in the heart. You bring so much warmth and light to this group but don’t get it twisted Riri is NICE but she is NOT to be played with okay?? 👹 your energy is comforting as hell, and I will defend you with VIOLENCE if necessary LOVE U FOREVERRRR!!!

Y’all are my serotonin frfr one day we’re gonna meet irl and the world will not be ready i’m talking matching outfits, hair and nails done, and a group hug so intense we all fall over and cry-laugh on the floor. Until then, I’m keeping y’all in my heart LOVE U ALL SO MUCH MUAH ☹💓

Happy fkn anniversary you beautiful people. I love you so bad it’s concerning.

[guccifrog2]

so cute I'm crying

tags 💓 @kwonienana @mattslolita @thenickgirl @muwapsturniolo @miiniiiyaaa @luverboychris

Fun little quiz

[guccifrog2]

HELP THE CANNIBALISM???

hmm random guccifrog lore drope gotta be when I was in 1st grade I used to go to a private school and everyone there was so mean LIKE these bitches were EVIILLLL to the point where one time one of the teachers embarrassed me so bad that I pissed my pants infront of the whole class and she made me turn around so they can see the urine stains on my pants 😭😭😭 another example was one time I went to the bathroom to wash my hands from paint and the E.P teacher "accidentally" locked the door while I was still inside and blasted gym music so loud no one could hear me screaming my lungs out let's just say i was locked there the whole day 😭😬this is lowkey my villain origne story

@lixslut @luverboychris @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @asscoupsu

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[guccifrog2]

TEXTS WITH BF! HOSHI

[guccifrog2]

wheezed so loud

chris’ main hoes so locked innnn 🔒

i’d sell both my kidneys and my scorpio niece for them

@muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @luverboychris & zay 🤞🏾❤️‍🔥

[guccifrog2]

dont care. didnt ask. boobs jiggle when i walk.