my lips like sugar

3

Requested by anonymous


How your friend convinced you to do this, you’ll never know. She was the drummer of a band, and their lead singer got very sick right before a gig, so she begged you to fill in. She knew you could sing well, and you knew most of the songs the band tended to cover. You were nervous, but at least most of the audience will never see you again if you do happen to mess up.

Tarzan and Jane were swingin’ on a vine

Candyman, Candyman

Sippin’ from a bottle of vodka double wine,” you sang.

You leaned into the mike to whisper the next part, “Sweet sugar candy man.

As you leaned in, you noticed people walking in. First was Tony Stark. Of course he would find out you were going to be performing. You suspected your friend invited him, not knowing you didn’t want people who actually knew you in the audience. But behind him was Steve and Bucky. Your crushes. You shot a glare at Tony, but he didn’t notice. And behind them was the rest of the Avengers.

Nonetheless, you continued the song.

I met him out for dinner on a Friday night

He really had me working up an appetite

He had tattoos up and down his arm

There’s nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm

He’s a one stop shop, makes the panties drop

He’s a sweet-talkin’, sugar coated candy man

A sweet-talkin’, sugar coated candyman.

The Avengers found seats towards the back to watch you. Bucky in particular seemed to be enjoying the song. Steve, however, blushed at the “makes the panties drop” line.

He took me to the Spider Club at Hollywood and Vine

We drank champagne and we danced all night

We shook the paparazzi for a big surprise

the gossip tonight will be tomorrow’s headline.

Maybe you could have fun with this. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Tony brought the Avengers.

He’s a one stop shop, makes my cherry pop.” You winked at Steve and Bucky. Luckily they were so far in the back that you could’ve been winking at anyone, or no one. The two of them leaned close to each other to whisper, seeming confused.

“He’s a sweet-talkin’, sugar coated candy man

A sweet-talkin’, sugar coated candyman

He’s a one stop shop, makes my cherry pop

He’s a sweet-talkin’, sugar coated candy man oh

A sweet-talkin’, sugar coated candyman.”

You turned to look at your drummer friend, who only grinned and winked at you. You shot her a glare in return. You had a feeling she planned this. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the audience for the next verse.

Well by now I’m getting all bothered and hot

When he kissed my mouth he really hit the spot

He had lips like sugar cane

Good things come to boys who wait.

If there was any hiding what the song was about, that was now out the window. Only thing to do was to play it up.

Tarzan and Jane were swingin’ on a vine

Candy man, candy man

Sipping from a bottle of vodka double wine

Candy man, candy man.

You took the microphone off the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. You leaned in, an innocent look on your face, and your finger up to your lips as if telling a secret. “Sweet sugar candy man,” you whispered. You then stood up straight for the next line.

“He’s a one stop, gotcha hot, making all the panties drop.” You fanned yourself with a hand as you sang this line, as if you were actually hot.

“Sweet sugar candy man,” you whispered again with a wink.

“He’s a one stop, got me hot, making my uh pop,

Sweet sugar candy man.” On this whisper, you made sure to look at Steve and Bucky. They were both red with a blush, especially Steve.

“He’s a one stop, get it while it’s hot, baby don’t stop

Sweet sugar.”

You finished off the song to an enthusiastic cheer from the crowd. You heard a whistle that you were pretty sure came from Tony, and you bowed. You knew there was a small break before the next song, so you stepped off the stage to go greet the Avengers.

“That was really good, Y/N,” Steve said, with Bucky agreeing.

“Didn’t know you had it in you!” Tony cut in. “You’ve probably earned some admirers with that performance.” He gave a sly smile and poked both Steve and Bucky in the back. The two of them again blushed.

“Stark,” Steve said in a warning tone.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. You enjoyed the performance. I’m the reason you knew about it,” Tony defended himself.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I’ll kiss you in public until our
tongues tangle and the police
will have to arrest us for being
too vulgar.
I’ll make inappropriate jokes and
I can be loud enough to get us
kicked out of the mall.
I won’t wake up early in the
morning just to get breakfast
with you.
I won’t comfort you at 2am during
the rain—I am the storm.
I won’t really chase after you
the way you want me to because I
don’t give a single fuck about
our conflicts. I don’t want small
talk—I want the universe as a
topic.
Don’t fall in love with me,
because I’m drowning in the sea
of anxiety and even the sea
monsters have learned how to stay
away at the scent of my blood.
I won’t be like sugar beneath
your lips—I’ll be the salt in
your open wounds.
I’ll be the flowers growing from
your ribcage but with thorns—
beautiful but it’s gonna be
painful with every single move
you’d make.
I’ll be at your doorstep at night
begging you to stay when you grow
tired of me, but I’ll see you
like a tree house where I can
live in for days without wishing
for the solid ground, but still
I’d leave you hanging from that
tree when I get bored of you.
You’ll wake up every morning to
the scent of flowers and the sea,
and I will capture you like a
moth to flames until the
scorching heat burn your skin.
I’m a monster with a devilish
grin, so don’t fall in love with
me, you don’t know what you’re
getting into.
(g.t.)
artwork by Chiara Bautista
Watch on yes-isme.tumblr.com

my lips like sugar 💋🍬

Goodbye’s In The Morning // Chris Evans x Reader

words: 2000+

characters: Chris and You

warnings: fluff

summary: Goodbyes are sometimes just too bittersweet. (shitty summary ik, I’m sorry, I’m tryin’ to be ‘elusive’)


Chris looked at the hotel room and saw you; the most beautiful thing he’d ever be able to see on this earth.

You were radiant in the rays of sunlight that were often rare for January mornings in Boston. Nevertheless, he thanked the gods for those beams of sunlight as they glistened across your morning dew, your puffy lips from a long, well-deserved sleep with your man finally wrapped in your arms once more.

With a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth and covered only by boxer which left him chilly; he felt an overwhelming sense of joy pour into his heart as he watched you, in all your morning glory.

The thing was that; you were nothing special, in your eyes and many- possibly millions of others. You were not an actress or a singer. You didn’t excel tremendously in school or have the body that plastered the magazines and the internet, deeming them as the ‘sexy bod’s you can get in a week’ or the ‘body that she never thought she could get’. 

Well, guess what? You had rolls of fat on your stomach and you always had a hankering for chocolate. You were far from any magazine’s standard of a ‘goddess’. That didn’t mean Chris deemed you less of a goddess, far from it. 

You were his goddess. He cherished the ground you walked on, he loved the way you mismatched your bra’s and panties because you believed ‘matching bras and panties is for pornstars and people who try too hard.’

He was in love with your integrity, humor, passions, dreams, and so much more he’d lose his mind if he listed them all now.

He was just a sick puppy-man in love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you love something, Chris always used to believe you could love only to a certain degree.

There’s only so much a person can give to another, right? Love was one of the most intimate things a human has, and giving that away was like taking your soul and handing it out as a flyer. Chris never wanted his heart handed out over the streets of Boston or any city he visited. He wanted it safe in his own hands, or at least in the hands of someone who he’d know would never do wrong by him. So many times, he gave his heart away. Only to find it in crumpled up forms at his doorstep a year, at most, later.

That was until he met you. Every moment Chris spent with you, he saw more and more of what true love is. It was so imperfect and upsetting, Chris loved every moment he had it, though.

You weren’t perfect, you were stubborn, moody when tired, lazy, and yet all of that could be washed away in a second. As soon as he saw you smile.

True love…

That’s holding someone’s hair back as they continued to vomit into the toilet after bad seafood.

Cleaning up the dishes while they watched a program you hated to hear blasting on the television.

Listening to you along to songs while being out of tune, and never changing the station even if it was Taylor Swift, again.

It was making sure that the car was warmed before someone got in.

That the had been coffee brewed before you’d wake up your significant other.

Watching them show their faults and quirks and never blinking an eye to any of them.

Love was unconditional and that was the best part… you didn’t have to try hard when it came to true love because it was True. Fucking. Love.

The universe made two people for each other, and they fit perfectly together. With faults, weird habits and all.

“Whatcha smirkin’ at over there, Chrispy Creme?” Shrugging, Chris got up and walked over to you laying in white fluffy sheets with a tea being nursed in your cold hands.

He felt a smile rise again to his lips when a giggle came from you watching the hotel’s television where they played a marathon of The Office. Here you were, sitting up with you legs crossed and your hair messily braided into two parts. Your sparkling, morning eyes couldn’t tear away from the television as you saw Dwight bag Meredith’s head with a bat inside it.

There was a marathon of The Office on TBS. Very much to your delight, he may add. You were a fangirl at heart. For The Office, Marvel, Disney; not to Chris’s own extent, but still considered a fangirl.

It was no secret that movies and tv were the escape you used as a child, teenager, and even now in adult life. Your childhood was not one to look back and smile about and school… well, t paid for therapist’s underground pool, let’s say that. Chris hurt to think that all those years you suffered, feeling alone and unaccepted in your tiny world in a small town that was a junkyard, to begin with. You never spoke of the people of your past anymore, never since you told Chris everything about your upbringing, clearly stating you never wanted to speak of it again. Which was understandable, but still. Chris’s heart still tightened up when he thought of you at eleven years old, sitting alone on the grass as the other kids played around with their friends and you broke grass in half, one by one, counting every tear off each strand of greenery you tore apart until the bell rang to go back inside. He wished he was there, him being his eleven-year-old self, offering you to play basketball or go on the swing sets together.

The thought of you all alone tore his heart in two. It left tears in his eyes as he faced his own reality that was slowly seeping back into his brain, sending an emotional bomb off in his chest.

He had to leave you in two hours, alone. In two hours you were going to be that eleven-year-old, stuck all alone on the playground. You were eleven with two braids split straight down the middle, in overalls and a ripped pink t-shirt, getting teased with no one to defend your honor for why you came to school with dirty on your knees and elbows. Hair greasy and shoes with holes in the soles.

“Chris… are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen something awful?” Setting the mug on the nightstand, you got to your knees and wobbly made your way across the bed and over to the man that towered over you. Ironically you seemed to be the tall one now, as tears brimmed his eyes and his hands became fidgety hanging low in front of him.

“N-no. I-I just… my flight.”

“O-oh.” Now it was your turn to become the small one, again. You felt his fingers try to hold your own but for some reason, you let them slip through as you turned around and got back into bed. Denying the fact that he was going to be gone again for two weeks. Having the time of his life while you filed paperwork for patients for the third floor of the Boston’s Child Hospital.

“Common, please… it already hurts enough that I’m leaving-”

“Well, how do you think I’m feeling then!” I burst out at him like a firecracker, lifting my head off the cold pillow that smelled like his shampoo, making me even more upset.

Chris crossed over to the bed and sunk his knees to the floor leaving on the bed with his elbows as he brushed back your bangs that covered your wide-eyed fear of seeing him take off on an airplane once again, leaving you here with nothing to come home too.

“I can’t have you hating me when I leave, Sweet Pea? I won’t. I won’t leave here, goddammit!” His tone came out more comedic than angry which made you smile a tad, letting a bit of light into Chris’s heart again just at the tug of your lips that he saw.

Your face was barely shown to him as you buried it into his pillow. Only one beautiful doe eye peeked out at Chris. Just a corner of your lips was visible, letting him see the small smile. Coming forward to rested his head on the same pillow, your noses were close enough to touch s he smiles at your pinched cheeks from the emotions running through you.

You mumbled into the pillow, pulling your face out so Chris could stroke your burning cheek gently with his fingers.

“You really wouldn’t leave if I was hating you?”  He shook his head, smiling a toothy grin,


“Not if they paid me in the billions, Peanut.” Smiling, I let my demeanor down and twisted my body to face Chris’s, I gave a weak smile that gave Chris’s eyes almost a sparkle at the sight of my small gesture of acceptance.

“What about trillions?”

“Nope, mm-hm.”

“Zillions?”

“Not gonna happen sweets. You’re worth all the gold a leprechaun could ever give me.” 

Okay, I giggled at that one. Chris saw the whites of my teeth start poking out and gave me a wide grin. Tackling me on the bed I yelped in surprise.

“There she is! There’s my girl!” I giggled as Chris kissed my peaked my face all over, finding any spot he could to cover his lips in until he settled on my own warm lips. My lips tasted like tea but overpowered by the hint of sugar, but most of all warmth. The warmth from the hot drink and now warmth from his body pressing into mine. I parted my lips and head his face back, smiling up at those blue eyes I knew I was a goner for the second I saw them reach mine.

“Let’s get you ready for two weeks of being Captain America again, baby.” Chris smiled down at me, cupping my right cheek with his large hand. “It’s a press tour, babe. I’m not gonna be in my suit or anythin’.”

“I know, but the world is gonna be seeing their Cap after a long time. They’ve missed seeing their hero for so long. I know I do, even when you leave for just two weeks.”

He looked taken aback but held back the emotion that was ablaze in his eyes, “I’m your hero.”

“Of course you are! You’re not just my hero, you’re my best friend and the love of my life… even if you weren’t Cap, you’d still be my hero, Baby.” Sniffling, he leaned down and kissed my nose softly, yet lingering for a longer time before finally, pulling himself away which looked like a struggle throughout his whole body.

“God. Can I pack you into my suitcase? Please? I mean you could fit if we leave all my clothes here…”

I gave my hero a grin and shrugged, “Why not?”


(I mean, I had to leave this! It’s Jim for goodness sake!)

A/N: Please leave feedback if you can! It means more than you think and it helps me for future stories on what you guys like and want to read more of! Love you all, thank you so much reading <3 - R .x

(masterlist here)

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The sweetness of September has left my lips but you still drip like sugar from my tongue. It’s not fair.

Because I exist like salt on raw gums but all I can picture is dragging my anxiety over the crooks you call lips and staining your skin the shade my doctor prescribed to heal the vacancy you painted my everything. And it doesn’t matter doesn’t matter doesn’t matter that you mark me like a hospital band alone but separate because I can’t I can’t I can’t sleep at night without three pills and a chaser because the shade of sky pooling on the wall looks too much like your eyes. I’m in love.

Maybe I’m too much or maybe I’m too little too frequent too forgettable but you left two months ago and I still taste you in old films and book pages like frost on my cheeks. And I’m sorry because I can’t forget can’t forget can’t forget the the brush of your skin like velvet against the heartbeat I call a harp because you played my heartstrings like a symphony.

I picture you in metaphors.
You picture me in past tense.
Too bad you never liked English.

—  I call this poetry and you call it bullshit
2

Y'all know im not one to do brand promos but holy Shit. The difference in these pics is 12 hours, a full shift, 2 meals and Tons of water and this lipstick has held this well.
I have a few other shades from the same brand and they all have held just as well (ive fallen asleep and only had it fade enough to need mild touch up) and they have tooooons of shades.

If anyone wants to check it out, the brand is Beauty Bakerie and off sale the lip whips sell for $20 each but they have sales often that bring them to $15. The shade here is Bae Cake 💜💜

Sugar Lips

Pairing: Gabriel x Winchester!Reader
Word Count: 623
Request: @feelmyroarrrr - Congratulations on 300!! Could I request Gabriel x reader and 7 please?
Prompt: ‘You heard me. Take. It. Off.’

A/N - This is my first Gabriel, so if it’s shit that’s why. Feedback is always appreciated.  

Originally posted by ashiewesker

You and your brothers had encountered a lot more angels than you thought you would. It was strange. When your mom said, that there would be an angel looking over your shoulder, you didn’t think there would actually be angels in this world. But hey, where there are demons there are Angels.

The Angel you met after Dean had returned from hell,was Castiel. He had been the one to “raise him from perdition” At first, he was oblivious to everything surrounding him; for him, it was either black or white. There was no in between, no grey, it was either right or wrong. He was a weird one.

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anonymous asked:

Can you write AgeGap!Everlark? :*

THIS IS FUCKED UP AND I’M SORRY

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY CASUALTIES

XXX

Belong

There’s a quiet knock on my bedroom door.

“Katniss, Peeta’s in the living room… he said he needs to talk to you.” Prim’s voice comes out muffled, like it’s been shoved through a sock, but the innocence there makes me roll onto my back with a groan.

Fuck Peeta. Of course he sent Prim to do his dirty work, rather than just fetch me himself, because he knows I have a soft spot for her. I used to have a soft spot reserved only for him, too, but over the past week it’s hardened to stainless steel.

But how else was I supposed to act around him? I naïvely bestow my long-guarded virginity on him, only to have him tell me the next morning that he can’t be with me like that anymore, and I’m expected to shrug it off like he’s announced we’re changing soap brands?

Hell. No.

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I fall asleep and dream
of freckles spread like constellations across your nose,
galaxies in your eyes
and a universe in your soul.
I imagine your lips taste like sugar
and your touch on my face and my hips
lights up my world like the fourth of July.
Your laugh sounds like summer
and your voice is blue skies
I will sing every one of your favorite songs until my throat is sore
and love you from afar, my dear
I could live in your embrace forever.
—  Dream girl
Ceiling and curtains

Originally posted by whereisuniq

Warnings: Something tells me I’ll be visiting the nurse’s office quite often, since Jungkook has done such a good job on doing my sexual sensitivity check up…


The sound of time flying by tickles my patience. I place my chin on the table, feeling myself growing roots that stick to the chair. Fifteen minutes last longer than I expected. Every time I look up the board, the same scenery of students’ backs and our teacher reading from the lecture as if it’s a speech hits my eyes. Again and again, it seems like time stands still without people noticing. I shift my head to the side, pressing my cheeks against the table. I can hear the scribble on her word-filled notebook so loudly, but it is impossible to figure out what she is writing. Something tells me I should get out of here before I run out of air to breathe.

“Teacher” I raise my hand. “Can I go to the nurse’s office?”

All eyes are on me. The teacher, my classmates, they all look at me like I’m not from this planet.

“My head is aching so badly.” I lower my voice, slowly retreating my extended arms.

The teacher examines my face for a while before moving her thin, pale lips. “Sure.” And that is all I need.

I walked through the hall, lining my feet along the tiles. How long has it been since I landed here? Two years? Three years? More accurately when my dad got a job in the middle of this enchanting city of Seoul. You don’t find many girls here with the same skin tone with me. It’s as hard as me trying to find a friend in this school. But I don’t mind, I have a pretty decent life even though it may not be exciting.

I make my way to the nurse’s office. As I slide the door open, the silence greets me ardently. The nurse has gone somewhere since her white coat is still hanging on the spinning chair. It’s not like I need her anyway.

“Can I help you with something?” A high tone voice wraps around my body and spins me around. Facing me is a young man, probably just freshly graduated. My height fits the gap between his chest and his feet perfectly. He still wears on himself the naïve face of being new to the job, sincerely want to help students with their conditions rather than give them a couple of aspirins and tell them to lie down until they feel well again like the usual nurse. The dark circles highlight his pale complexion. How his top lip curves into a heat shape catches my attention. He is handsome for a teacher, handsome enough to gain himself some high school dramas with the other girls. I can tell by the look of his face that my chocolate skin tone isn’t something he’s used to see walking into the nurse’s office, and I’m totally familiar with this.

“I have a headache. But it’s okay, I’m just going to lie here a bit.” I have on my face the smile that they have on commercials.

He places his hand on my forehead. “Are you having a fever? I can give you some aspirins.” The texture of his hand feels strange. It may be because of that natural roughness of a man. I feel warmth spreading from my forehead to my cheeks, sending sucker punches on my heart.

“I’m okay.” I step back defensively.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’m replacing the previous nurse from now on. My name is Jeon Jungkook.” I figure the introduction is supposed to confirm that I can trust him on taking my medication. Even though he doesn’t say it out loud, the agitation on his face tells me everything that his mouth can’t.

“Nice to meet you.” I bow to show some manners. “But really I’m okay. I’ll just lie down a bit.”

Without waiting for his response, I cut the conversation and head towards the bed. After settling myself so that my face looks up the white ceiling, my eyes close and all of my focus switches to breathing – something I couldn’t do in class. I let the sun shine brightly into my eyes, embracing it like a blessing rather than something annoying. My eyes scroll down to where my feet are. Through the floating curtains, I see him scribbling on his papers things that may be too hard for me to understand. He parts his lips slightly, looking down from the pair of round transparent glasses. He has become a muse for me as analyzing him starts to be some kind of a wicked game. The lines of vein flow from his chin down and disappear into the collar of his sky blue shirt. Sometimes he loosens his tie a bit but the knot never goes further than his second button. My eyes roll away whenever he glances at me, thinking that he will never know how long have I been staring. Suddenly he stands up and approaches me. As he opens the curtain, my body freeze, lying straight like a frozen Popsicle. Jungkook sits on the bed next to me, legs spreading and elbows resting on his knees.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks gently.

“I can’t tell.” I answer truthfully.

He stays quiet for a while, licking his lips and clearing his throat. Something is coming out, something that he’s too afraid to say. “How come you came to Korea? I’m curious.” Ah that question… Even though I’ve heard this for so many time, my own curiosity wonders why he would want to know. In addition, why is he starting this conversation?

“My dad got a job here, so we just happened to move…”

And from there, this alleged conversation expands. I begin telling him about my life before moving to Korea and my life now that I’ve moved here. As for him, he gives stories of the most random things on earth like seagulls in Busan or the times he went out to sing karaoke alone. Then I get to see his smile. The smile brighter than the brightest star in the solar system. His front teeth are a bit bigger than the rest, making him look like a bunny. I find the wrinkles at the end of his eyes when his face is stretched somewhat cute. I wonder what he sees in me for him to keep the conversation going this long. But I can’t care less, this is the first time I’ve had so much fun with a Korean.

“Oh it’s lunch time already? I should give the documents to the vice principal. You should go get some food too, Y/N.” Jungkook stands up, offering me a hand. I sit up and take his hand. As he pulls me up, my legs suddenly twist together, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the direction being pulled. Before I know it, I’m lying on top of him and our faces are only the width of a finger away from each other. His eyes reflects my confusing image. My breasts are pressing on his chest and through my clothed core, I can feel the bulge of his pants. I quickly try to stand up, but there are arms wrap around me, locking me body into his.

I look at Jungkook without saying a word. One of his arms releases me so that his hand is free. He pulls my face in closer until our lips touch. The kiss begins with just touching the surface, then he opens his mouth and nibbles the taste of my lips. I do the same, feeling high like I’ve eaten more sugar than I should. He flips us around so that he is on top of me. One by one, the buttons on my uniform are undone, revealing the white laced bra I’m wearing underneath.

“Let me check your condition.”

Jungkook slides his hands into my bra, putting pressure on my nipples. He seems to enjoy the fact that they’re harden under his touch. He takes them into his fingers and rubs them, frequently giving them a hard squeeze that makes me squeak. What is he trying to find in this check-up? How sensitive I am to sexual arousals? His hands accelerate down my stomach, reaching my skirt to pull it down along with my panties. He strokes on the outside of my core, drawing strange pattern that putting more weighs on my breath.

“So beautiful.” He leaves kiss marks on my core. “Let’s see the condition of this place.”

He separates the folds. His fingers rub my small clit, just like how he did it with my nipples. More weighs seems to be adding on to my pelvis, making it numb. The same fingers are inserted into my entrance, two of them. My mouth opens wide when he curls them. More than pleasure, I feel like more things are added, piling up and now they’re going to fall. The juice that drips out from my core doesn’t stop, but the moment when it’s out, it takes all of my energy away. I look at Jungkook, tasting the juice I spilled all over his hands.

“Delicious.” He smirks, sucking his fingers like lollipops. “One last step.”

He unbuckles his belts and strips down his pants. His cock is rising perpendicularly to his body. He holds my legs, spreads them out and slowly sinks into me. The cock fits me and the feeling of being in contact becomes stronger than ever. His pelvis thrusts into mine. Biting his lips and holding his breath, his expression stays vivid under my blinded eyes. A little deeper, a little faster, a little rougher… I keep praying for them.

My climax comes sooner than I prepared. Suddenly, my body is attached to a thin string, hanging in the middle of the air. Then the string snaps and I free fall, just like the juice that is making the stain on the bed bigger and bigger. Jungkook pulls out of me, shooting his orgasm on the bed sheet. I lie there, breathe the air I missed earlier. The view of the ceiling of before, but I see it so differently now. He cleans me up and dresses me. Sometimes, I see his smile in front of my dull eyes. It’s still so bright, so precious.

“Lie there.” I hear his voice. “You can’t go back to class now.” The black curtains slowly close my view of the white ceiling. Jungkook is already gone, but why does his touch still linger on my throbbing core?


For the anon who asked for a scenario with Y/N a colored girl and @bangtanletters who asked for doctor Jungkook, hope you enjoyed it. Although it’s not really the big type of doctor but I want to spice things up a bit. Hope all of y’all thirsty Kookie stan love this too.

Sorry for the weird title, I suck at naming stuffs and my stories aren’t an exception.

new wave and chill

a mix of some of my fave new wave tunes.

tracklist:

i. don’t stand so close to me - the police / ii. i ran (so far away) - a flock of seagulls / iii. how soon is now? - the smiths / iv. people are people - depeche mode / v. bizarre love triangle - new order / vi. standing in the doorway - a flock of seagulls / vii. message in a bottle - the police / viii. rock lobster - the b-52′s / ix. tainted love/where did our love go? (radio edit) - soft cell / x. my best friend’s girl - the cars / xi. this night has opened my eyes - the smiths / xii. lips like sugar - echo & the bunnymen

Some nights I just want to talk to you.
To feel your name dance on my lips.
To taste you again,
like sweet sugar
that blankets my tongue.

I miss the way you feel.
The way your fingertips traced
the crooked bridge of my nose.
Or the way your body felt next to mine,
and how my incomplete soul
felt full when I was with you.

I crave your breath
intermingling with my own.
The heavenly feeling of breathing you in;
filling my lungs as though
you were my own oxygen
coursing throughout my body.

I miss knowing what it felt like
to love another person
with my entire being.
The feeling of my body electrified
by a simple glance from you.

I miss you.
And I know I shouldn’t,
but a broken heart
is never fully mended.
Some nights I wish you were mine again.

—  V.H.
whatvicthinks
Harry Styles' Body: A Christmas Miracle

also known as: the masterpost shamelessly objectifying harry’s body and mixing in cute lil imagines and a couple of really intense thirsty moments.

this is my secret s4nta gift for tumblr user gabbasaurus-rex. :) now everyone buckle up and let’s get started!!!

okay i guess we should ease into the thirsty part a lil bit. let’s start with his feet.

they’re HUGE!!!! and like. pretty clean!! considering that they’re feet!!!!

i wish there was some point of reference in this photo like a standard no. 2 pencil or something because i’m pretty sure his feet are literally twice the size of mine

sometimes he manages to wedge his big flippers into some shoes!!! and those shoes are ALSO huge!!! u know what they say about guys w/ big shoes…

…they’re dumb enough that they can’t remember which is which!!!! it ok harry. 

just casually posing in some squeaky clean new shoes while the size of  his feet ruin my life. it’s fine.

now. harry’s feet happen to connect, via his ankles (as often happens), to a very impressive set of legs.

mmmmmmmm. boy legs. i like boy legs when they’re not too skinny and harry’s got some meat on ‘em ;)

does he shave them? this is a Question. sometimes they look very smooth. but sometimes they look like regular hairy Boy Legs

look at his THIGHS i wanna BITE them

SO SHAPELY. SO EXQUISITE. SO POWERFUL.

sometimes he clothes his legs, which, although it’s not my preferred state for his legs to be in, the pants (trousers) he wears always make ‘em look pretty damn good.

is there a harry styles’ legs calendar because i would buy 1000 copies and wallpaper my room with them

LIKE. OK. his legs are slim but they still have substance like they’re not SKINNY they’re just SLIM and he has these cute little calves that gently curve out and ok yes maybe his ankles are a bit skinny but he makes up for that by wearing heeled boots ayy lmao

he KNOWS he’s got good legs too he shows them off whenever he can

continuing our tour of harry’s body…

although i’m regretful to leave his magnificent thighs…

we have harry’s cute lil BUTT!!!!!!!

some of my friends (not the ones on tumblr, they get me) have trouble understanding why i am so into boy butts

WHY IS THIS DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND???? look at its gentle curve. it’s just enough to grab onto when he’s lowered himself just like that on top of you ;)

imagine if you were dating him and he was about to go out golfing with the bros and you gave his bum a cheeky pinch on the way out the door :(

or if you were going to give him a sexy massage with some flavored massage oil you just got from victoria’s secret. HIS BUM WOULD BE THE PERFECT PLACE TO PERCH!!!!!

i think the only reason harry’s so happy all the time is because his butt’s so comfortable to sit on. like maybe sometimes zayn and liam will be like “how do you stand sitting on that stage for so long” but they will never understand because they have negative asses. harry’s ass is an ass of SUBSTANCE

moving around to the front of this delectable region of harry’s body, we have…. drumroll please……

THE BULGE.

LISTEN TO ME. THIS MAKES ME SO THIRSTY. HARRY IS PACKIN.

THERE IS SO MUCH DICK STUFFED INSIDE HIS PANTS. TROUSERS. WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL THEM. I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW HE WALKS WITHOUT CONSTANTLY ADJUSTING HIMSELF.

oh, you’re proud of the way your jeans bulge out in front, aren’t you. you piece of shit.

there is a PENIS hanging HEAVY between his thighs AT ALL TIMES this is NOT A DRILL

JESUS CHRIST ON A CRACKER PUT IT INSIDE ME

does singing make him half-hard because i mean

LIKE I’M SORRY. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. IT’S TENTING BOTH YOUR PANTS AND YOUR FUCKING SHIRT.

HEY. REMEMBER THAT GOLFING IMAGINE? I GUESS HARRY’S AT HALF-CHUB BECAUSE YOU PINCHED HIS BUTT. GOOD ON YOU.

jesus harry how much are you packing to bulge out the front of a SUIT like i’m pretty sure suits are cut for the explicit purpose of making your body into a clean uninterrupted line, not for being SULLIED by your HUGE GODDAMN PACKAGE.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

does golfing turn him on or is his soft dick really that big now i want to know but at the same time i’m afraid of what the information would do to me

ok last one sorry sorry just like. LOOK at it. the line of his dick. ok. everyone take a deep breath in, then out. in, then out.

ok, we’re ready to move on to his torso. at least, i think i’m ready.

so harry used to have a lot of baby fat. we all did. we were all fat, ugly babies. 16yo harry was fucking adorable look at his little exhibitionist streak and his soft belly (✿◠‿◠)

then harry went through a superhuman-accelerated form of puberty and NONE OF US WERE PREPARED

THERE’S NO WAY TO PREPARE FOR THIS

YOU JUST HAVE TO BITE YOUR PILLOW AND ACCEPT THAT YOU’RE GOING TO DREAM ABOUT LICKING HIS V LINE UNTIL YOU DIE

IT’S SO FUCKING EASY TO IMAGINE HIM COMPLETELY NAKED I’M FURIOUS PULL UP YOUR SHORTS YOU SLUT

OK WE’RE GONNA TAKE A LITTLE THIRST DETOUR. THIS IS WHAT HARRY LOOKS LIKE WHEN HE’S GETTING SUCKED OFF. NO IMAGINATION REQUIRED.

HARRY COULD LIFT YOU UP AND FUCK YOU AGAINST A WALL.

I AM AGGRESSIVELY MOUTH-BREATHING AND MAY OR MAY NOT BE DROOLING

ok ok sorry. back to the Thing. you know how harry knows his legs are aweomse? well he also knows his chest and abs and general everything is awesome, so sometimes he wears sheer shirts because he’s satan and wants to torture us all.

instead of using scissors to cut up my all of my inevitable med school rejection letters maybe i should just use harry’s v line instead because THAT’S WHAT DERAILED ME FROM HAVING A LIFE

also real talk harry has the perkiest nipples of any guy i’ve ever seen

they poke through his fucking shirts (and so does his SIX PACK)

they are always hard and always dark and i always want to bite them

look it’s like he WANTS you to play with them he’s fucking oFFERING THEM

his nipples yearn for the spotlight. i want to give them everything they want and more.

no like they poke through his shirts so MUCH you can’t convince me he doesn’t pinch them and play with them when he jacks off

speaking of jacking off look at his ARMS. more importantly,

look at his HANDS.

they’re HUGE.

you know what they say about guys with huge hands…

…THEY’RE REALLY GOOD AT FINGERING YOU. DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO MAKE A JOKE. THIS ISN’T A JOKING MATTER.

he heard me and he wants to prove me right ;)

while we’re looking at his face let’s talk about what a fine specimen he is

harry is confusing. he can be so CUTE DARLING SWEET CUPCAKE 

and then the next second be really intense jealous possessive. does his shirt say not safe for work. because i’m pretty sure that’s true.

BE MY SUGAR DADDY.

his lips are sooooo so kissable too like look at them i bet he’d be a very focused kisser like very concentrated trying to please you etc :(((

he has his red carpet smirk perfected and it makes me want to punch his mouth and then kiss it better

i don’t know what this facial expression is but it’s making me want some alone time

look at what a sweetheart he is though like above all else :)))))

IN CONCLUSION:

harry styles’ body is UNREAL and i want to lick every inch of it.

THE END.