lavenderbexlatte

[lavenderbexlatte]

GURL WHAT R U DOING TO THE POKEMON AU??? I was lit about to fall asleep when I got the notif and came running 😭😭😭

i finally finished it 😶‍🌫️

repost re-edit re-up is coming 🫣

#uhh no i mean sYsTeM fAiLuRe #she-wintersoldat

[lavenderbexlatte]

legendary series masterlist~

reader-insert pokemon au featuring stray kids (w/ kard and others!) total length ~110,000 words/20 chapters  

     📁 file leaks

D901BCC ⁘ D902LMH ⁘ D903SCB ⁘ D904HHJ ⁘ D905HJS ⁘ D906LYB ⁘ D907KSM ⁘ D908YJI

UNKNOWN

     📑 chapters

s̶̛̝̎̇͂̂̀̓̚ỷ̷̢͍͓̘̜͍̜̗͓̰̇̀̕s̷̢̡̨̡̨̪̰̖̟̋́̾̀͂̔̐̽̉̀̕̕͜͝t̶̢̢̫̝̣̞̟͛̈́̿̓̏̌̇͒̚̕͠͠e̶͚͌́̾͌̓̈́̒̆m̶̨̱̯̝͈͔̃̑̑̊̓̈́ ̸̢͓̪͖̑f̸̨̨̥̙͙͔͚̫̤̪͐̓̕ả̸̙̳̬̹͖̼̐͋͒̚í̴͚̃͒̈́͗̓l̶̳̊̌͌͒̒̀͊̿̾͑́͘̕͝͝ǘ̵̡̪̩̻̗r̷̠̲̬̜͓͍͚͉̯͊̈́̂͐̍͒̀̑̆͋̾̂͘̚͠ë̶̼͕̱͔̝́̑̓̐͐̕͝͝

[lavenderbexlatte]

you are aliveeeeeeeee. who even gets chickenpox anymore lol? hope you are taking this time to rest, but also girl give us an update on your life! are you enjoying work? hows life in korea?

APPARENTLY ME 💀 i was vaccinated as a kid, so this is a breakthrough case. mild, not a lot of spots. but i'm quarantining for a week bc it's so contagious.

work...like i said, i accidentally became crucially important haha

to make a long fucking story short, the company i work for has in-house textbook publishing, and i write for some of the subjects now. i reorganized and now run the writing program myself like some kind of spite-fueled zombie.

korea and fun-wise...let's see. it was just cherry blossom season! my fave. and in february i saw eric nam, lee youngji, itzy, and i went to nct ten's solo album fan con 💚

#anon #i've been okay #but sick a lot #flu in february and this now #i think working with kids is really going to have to end soon for me hhhhh #i even still mask but i keep getting sick

[lavenderbexlatte]

BECCA BECCA BECCA

yes 😭

#🦋 anon

[lavenderbexlatte]

Oh my gosh, hi!! Hope you are doing okay 🩷we've missed you!

babe.

i did not realize that i've been away for SO LONG 😭 completely did not notice. oh my god.

i accidentally became crucially important at work. things took off.

and now this week, i am home sick with fucking chickenpox.

#has it been SIX MONTHS #i'm so embarrassed

[lavenderbexlatte]

👉👈

remember me?

#how are there so many more of you #than when i went on hiatus

[lavenderbexlatte]

I live

YOU LIVE 😭💕

#sleepylixie #blessed is this day

[lavenderbexlatte]

#24 on ur spotify wrapped describes how 2024 will go, how screwed r u

#tinnitus by txt #gonna be a sexy year

[lavenderbexlatte]

so basically i was very sick for months this summer and that has resulted in my losing a ton of hair recently, and spending many hours in hospital to try and reverse it. and then i got sick AGAIN, which i had to manage without the meds that gave me those side effects last time. and it's now exam season for my students and thus kinktober has been. temporarily abandoned.

i will fix it. but it will be some kind of kinkvember.

apologies for not being ahead of things 😕

#delete later #my health has been insane

[lavenderbexlatte]

#it's our day 😔💕 #happy birthday to my lil bestie and my twin #we're gonna have a good birthday

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 24: food play

nct/wayv 1.3k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Xiao Dejun NSFW

🖤 warnings: my ridiculous passionate undying love for xiaojun, not letting ur puppy watch u get down n dirty, improper use of ice cream bars 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

"What the hell are you doing?"

He's completely frozen like you caught him committing a petty crime, like a dog with its head in the cupboard.

That's not too far off, actually, because Bella is right behind him, beagle tail wagging as she expects a bite of whatever her dad is trying to find. In the freezer, though. Not the cupboard.

"Nothing," Dejun answers.

Really, you're not shook about the snack. He can eat what he wants, when he wants. You're just wondering why this is happening at nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, man. Middle of the night. Making suspicious noises in the dark, dark kitchen.

"I heard a noise, I thought Bella was breaking something," you say, squinting even in the dim light of the freezer.

He relaxes. "Oh. No. Just me."

Just him. No dog messes to clean up, which is a huge relief. You're sleepy as hell.

"Then eat your whatever and come back to bed," you say.

"Wait."

"What?"

"You wanna try this?"

You really want to bury yourself back under the covers, and pass out for the remaining few hours until you need to get up for work, but you're only human. Your ability to resist your most favorite boy, with his messy middle-of-the-night hair, still rifling through the fridge, is extremely low. Basically nonexistent. If he's having fun, you want to be there.

He's just so excited. Tail wagging, basically.

It's three in the morning.

You sigh. "What is it?"

He brightens. You swear you can see the fine, sparkly glitter cascading off him, like a cartoon character at peak power. See, this is the energy you can't resist.

"I found these Oreo ice cream things," he says.

Of course, they're Oreo.

After the second or third time Ten roasted him for making shitty desserts in the microwave, Dejun made it his personal mission to find the best store-bought Oreo flavored snacks and desserts. Cookies and cream flavored confections are included, you've been told, but on thin fucking ice.

The best one needs to be found, and he's gonna be the one to find it.

"They're good. I ate one on the way home," he tells you.

"How many did you get?"

The heavy plastic shopping bag that comes out of the freezer is all the answer you need.

"A few," he says, diplomatically.

"More than five?"

"No comment."

"More than twenty?"

He grins. "No."

"Then we're fine," you decide.

"Do you want one?"

"Sure."

Dejun hands you a flimsy blue packet emblazoned with the Oreo logo. Looks pretty good, at least.

You open it up and take a bite. Yeah, pretty good. Nice.

In stark, pitiful contrast, Dejun opens his own ice cream, bites off the end, and immediately drops a big chunk of black chocolate coating onto his white tee.

"Fuck."

"Clumsy," you say, fondly.

It stains, because of course it does. You watch his panic build, as you lean down and retrieve the piece of chocolate so that Bella doesn't get to it. He darts for the sink, and he scrubs at the dark spot with some water, but it doesn't budge.

"It'll come out," you tell him.

"Still," he grumbles.

He strips off the shirt, while you watch with pointed interest. You get to see him naked a lot, but hey, sue you. You enjoy it every time.

The shirt gets yeeted, and the ice cream melts down his hand.

"Careful," you warn.

But the vanilla bar melts down his hand, down his arm, and as he raises the bar up, panicky, to try and fix it, the trail of white drips onto his abs.

He's gotten skinny-guy jacked, lately, and the melted dessert falls enticingly into the little ridges between his abs. He just stares down at it, annoyed.

You, on the other hand, are getting an idea.

"Hey," you say.

He glances up. "Yeah?"

You grab hold of his wrist, and push the softened half-eaten ice cream bar into his chest. He yelps. Which, yeah. It's still cold and the texture is weird. But still...

"Jeez!" he yelps louder.

"Let me just-"

It's three in the morning. It's not your fault.

You lean in, take hold of his thin, broad shoulder, and you lick a stripe up his chest. The ice cream is sweet and cool, and the warm smoothness of his skin underneath is a strange thrill. You just kind of vibe with it for a second. You go in to lick him again, this time, sweeping over a nipple.

"Oh-KAY!" he says, stumbling back a step. "Okay! Wow!"

Poor guy is flushed and wild-eyed. He glances down at his dog, who's just watching, like she wants to go next.

"Sorry, should have asked," you say, shameless.

Dejun looks down at his chest, at the flecks of ice cream and the clean trails you've left behind. You're looking a little lower, at the very sudden interested shape in the front of his pajama pants. Incredible. Your impromptu plan worked like a charm.

What he says, when he finally speaks, is, "Not in front of the puppy."

Bella gets locked out of the bedroom, but one of the ice cream bars gets to come in.

Another one, a fresh one. It's melting, but that's kind of the point.

"You're super weird," he tells you.

"I'm exciting," you correct him.

Clothes are lost, the tingling arousal you'd already been feeling from putting your mouth all over him rising with every inch of skin revealed. Dejun still seems flustered, but he's a cocky bastard. You can see his stupid rizz coming in strong.

You're eager to rip open the next ice cream. Clasped in the excited warmth of you hand, it's mostly melted, squishy in the package. You liked doing it more than you thought, the first time. What was mostly impulse turned into something that you can't wait to try again.

But you don't get to do that, because Dejun snatches the ice cream away.

"Hey, what - oh!"

The dude isn't the tallest, not the biggest, but he's got the motivation and the audacity. He pushes you right onto the bed and crawls on top of you. He sits on your thighs, pinning you in place pretty effectively. You could probably get him off you, if you wanted, but why would you want to?

"This is revenge," he says, dramatic, per usual.

"Do it."

Melted ice cream is fucking cold.

It's cold, but it feels...nice. You're squirming under Dejun as he rips the packet with his teeth and drips the melty vanilla ice cream down your torso. Careful, so that it doesn't run down your sides and stain the sheets.

There's something extra obscene about the color, you muse, as you take in the little shapes he's drawing on you.

"You know what," he says, peering down at your messy chest and stomach. "I get it."

The cold was interesting, but the warmth is even more thrilling.

Dejun's careful tongue, tracing the lines he drew, warm against the chill on your skin. His teeth, as he nips at the thin skin over your ribs, a slow drag over your sternum.

His eyes have fluttered shut. His hand is splayed over your torso, long pretty fingers.

"Jun," you say, serious.

"Mm?"

He's not really listening. He glances at you, and then he adjusts the angle of his head just a little bit, calculated, so that you can see the very best of his sharp jaw, his long lashes.

Fucker. He knows how pretty he is, and he's weaponizing it.

"Jun," you repeat.

"Yes?"

"Does this get to be on your Oreo dessert tier list?"

Now, that one makes him sit all the way up again, face thoughtful. He still has the ice cream wrapper clutched in one hand, and he straightens up on top of you as he rips open the package all the way and takes out a piece of the chocolate coating. He eats it.

"I dunno," he says. "I think we need more research."

You wriggle again, the tacky feeling on your skin starting to get weird. "More research?"

"Yeah. I mean. For example. Is that the tastiest thing in the room?"

His smile is so stupid. Can't even sell an innuendo without cracking up.

"Let's find out."

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #nct xiaojun fanfic #nct xiaojun smut #wayv xiaojun fanfic #wayv xiaojun smut #xiao dejun fanfic #xiao dejun smut #wayv smut

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 21: exhibitionism

nct 1.6k words female reader insert Reader x NCT DoJaeJung suggestive/SFW

🖤 warnings: exhibitionism without prior consent (kind of?), undernegotiated kink, a little bit of a mind game, the Perfume mv but if they could show dick🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

This resort hotel is fucking weird.

For one, it seems like only very, very hot people are vacationing here. The stunning girl in the room beside yours, who's been hanging her bikinis and her lacy nightwear out to dry on the little wrought-iron fence between your room's balcony and hers. The statuesque older couple, elegant and perfectly dressed and incredibly sweet when you greet them in the lobby for breakfast.

And the beautiful guy whose room backs up to yours, across the little courtyard, who does not close his bathroom shades before he indulges in a bubble bath.

At first, you feel bad for him.

You're trying to catch some early morning sun on your balcony before heading into town for the day. But when some motion catches your eye, and you glance across the courtyard, you see him. Naked from the waist up, windows open to let in the crisp morning air, music just barely audible over the gentle sounds of the wind.

The bathtub is full. There are flowers, and candles.

He's going to have a bath, and anyone who hazards a look in that direction will be able to see him. You do feel bad.

A call to the front desk - I'm not complaining, I just wanted to know, could you check on another guest who has the window open while he's...undressed? - yields nothing when you fail to give them any description beyond second floor, across from B-209, handsome young man.

If it was you, getting nude in front of an open window, you would want someone to tell you.

So you swallow your fear, and you calculate the room number. You'll tell him yourself.

It seems like A-207, if your Google Maps aerial view snooping and your hotel floor map scrutinizing are correct.

You swap out your room slippers for a pair of sandals, and you set out to save this dude from a little bit of public humiliation.

As it turns out, you are right on one assumption, and wrong on another.

You were right that his room is A-207.

When you knock on the door, that guy answers. Blessedly, he's wearing pants.

But you were wrong that he would want your advice, on the matter of his open windows.

"Oh, I know," he tells you flatly.

You're floored. "You..."

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the looking out," he says, with a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "But I'm the one who opened the windows. I know they're open."

"Oh." You really don't know how to respond to that.

"Very nice of you to tell me," he assures you.

"But you want them open," you say.

His expression drops fully into that grin, deep dimples appearing and charming what's left of your wit right out of you. "Maybe I want people to see."

And with that, he nods, and closes the door on you.

When you get back to your room, you can't help but check. If he meant it.

You peek out your balcony doors again, toward that room so close across the way. The bathroom windows are still thrown wide, the sunlight streaming in and music trickling out.

He's in the bath, now, lounging on his back with his head pillowed on his folded arms.

Like you'd shouted for him, his attention turns toward you. He meets your eyes. Your heart stops for a second, embarrassed.

He smiles again. You can see the white glint of his teeth.

And then his hand slides into the water. Down, down, under the scant cover of bubbles.

You gasp, realizing what he's about to do, and you scuttle away from the doors.

Dude's weird.

--

You don't ask his name, before the guy staying two doors down from you pulls you into his room and shuts the door.

Mimosa-tipsy is a good look on him. Though, you suspect that pretty much anything would be a good look on a face like that. He's beautiful, like every other person at this resort. Classically handsome, perfectly proportioned. He's tall, and broad, and what he absolutely lacks in game he makes up for in unabashed passion.

That's how he got you here.

A quick compliment over brunch turned into a pitcher of mimosas for the table, more than a few peeks at the daring neckline of your comfy dress, and and invitation from you to do more than look. He's here with friends, he says, but they would understand if he's a little late to their afternoon plans.

It wasn't what you planned to do on this vacation, either, but it's a welcome turn of events.

"You're not too drunk for this, right?" you ask.

The guy scoffs. "Not even drunk. How about you?"

"I'm nearly sober," you say.

He doesn't look drunk, but he's got that flush to his cheeks and that looseness in his limbs that suggests he's a little warm. You trust his judgement.

"Let me know if anything isn't okay," you say.

"Of course."

His bed is artfully unmade, white linens strewn across the mattress like he'd thrown them all back at once and leapt out of bed earlier that morning. A breeze makes the curtains puff out in pretty waves, warm sunlight and cool air coming right in the open window.

He lays down, still in his crisp shirt and slacks, and he cuts a gorgeous figure against the pristine bedcovers.

You just look at him for a moment, taking in the vision of a man that you have every intention of devouring, before you go to the window and take hold of the curtain.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Can I close these?"

He hums. "Do you think we could leave them open?"

For the second time in two days, you feel your heart fluttering with nerves and shock and something like...anticipation.

"I...guess we can."

"Don't take that the wrong way, hey, you can close them if you want," he offers. "But if you're down..."

You hook up with him, trading body heat in the sun-warmed linens, those curtains wide open.

And when you've finished, and he's finished, and you're standing up to stretch out the kinks in your neck, you catch a glimpse out that open window.

The guy from yesterday has his bathroom window open again. And his main room's window, too. The balcony doors, wide open. You can see him. Facing back into the room, a bottle in his hand, he's just standing there on his balcony. If he turned around, even halfway, he would be looking right at you.

Fucking weird.

--

You meet your third beautiful man outside a cafe, on the shopping street just outside the resort gates.

"Jungwoo," he says, going in to shake your hand with the one of his that isn't clutching a big paper-wrapped bundle of flowers.

You introduce yourself in turn.

It's three bundles of flowers, actually. Wildflowers in different colors, some that you can name and some that you can't.

"Want one?" he asks.

"What are they for?"

He shrugs. "My friend is trying to get me into photography. We have a background planned. Long story."

You accept one long-stemmed clipping of baby's breath when he offers it, and he smiles.

"Are you staying around here?" he asks.

"The resort," you thumb behind you, at the courtyard you'd just left.

He brightens even more. "Me too!"

What with the apparent beauty standards for resort guests, that doesn't surprise you.

Jungwoo hoists the flowers higher in his arms. "You can totally say no, if it's weird, but...would you wanna come help me arrange these for the shoot? It's a boudoir kind of thing, gonna be all fancy furniture and closeups and flowers, and stuff."

"Why me?" you ask, amused.

"You look like you have an eye for aesthetics," he answers, smooth and sincere and prompt.

His voice is light and innocent, but there's a sharp intelligence in his eyes that suggests that he has every intention of putting this invitation to...another kind of good use.

"Maybe I don't," you say, "Maybe I'm hopeless."

"I want to find out for myself," he answers.

Well, you can't just leave the poor guy wondering. You follow Jungwoo back into the resort.

The main entrance is at the other side of the courtyard, lined on two sides by your building and the opposite one and the lobby space making a tight U shape. Chatter and music and liveliness from the balconies above makes you tilt your head back to look.

Two figures on their balconies.

Your bath guy, fully dressed, this time, but barely, in a sleeveless top under a delicate knit.

And across from him, two doors down, your brunch hookup, in yet another crisp buttoned shirt, done up only halfway.

"Took you long enough," the bath guy calls. "We don't have all day to play models for you."

"I made a friend," Jungwoo calls back.

Brunch guy laughs. "Looks like a friend that I made the other day."

"So familiar," bath guy agrees.

Here with friends.

Wanting people to see.

"They're a pain," Jungwoo says to you.

You're still following him.

"I understand if you really just want to fix the flowers," he tells you. "That's okay. But if you wanted to, oh, I don't know..."

"Do you know them?" you ask.

Jungwoo nods. "We're here all week. Yearly trip, for the old college roommates."

"If we..." you swallow hard. "If we...I mean. And they..."

You don't get your thoughts out, but you don't need to, it seems.

Jungwoo pauses, looks over your head in the direction where his two friends wait, on their facing balconies, and his smile returns.

"Don't worry about those guys," he tells you.

He leans in a little, like he's got a particularly juicy secret.

"They like to watch."

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct dojaejung fanfic #nct dojaejung smut #nct doyoung smut #kim doyoung smut #nct doyoung fanfic #nct jaehyun fanfic #nct jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct jungwoo fanfic #nct jungwoo smut #kim jungwoo fanfic #kim jungwoo smut

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 20: only one bed

kard 1.5k words female reader insert Reader x Matthew Kim (BM) NSFW

🖤 warnings: inappropriate coworker relationships, yes i turned one of the all-time best tropes into a prompt be mad about it🖤

🎂 happy matthew day~

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

This all sounded way less ridiculous on paper.

Or, like, in an email.

When they were planning the room arrangements for this company trip, you'd thought it was no big deal to volunteer be placed in a mixed-gender room. There just wasn't the budget to put everyone separately, and not enough pre-planned pairs to make it work without mixing different branches together. It seemed like a simple courtesy to say that you'd be okay with someone from a different branch, and a different gender, if it came to all that.

But once you saw the final lineup, you knew you'd be in for it.

Not that you got a bad roommate, or anything. You've actually met him a few times before, and he's a cool guy. Very gentle, polite.

He's just also extremely hot.

You've never really registered exactly how hot, before. Over the three or four other conferences like this one, you've always been glued to your work bestie. But she transferred departments, and now here you are.

Here, at the open bar that the company set up in the hotel lounge, watching him chat with a group of people.

His suit jacket is long gone, his shirt unbuttoned by a few more inches than it was when he arrived this afternoon, showing a deep v of tanned, firm chest. His bleaches hair is starting to come out of its neatly-gelled part, strands falling into his face elegantly.

One of the women from the newest branch is wearing a little sash...it's her birthday, you assume, squinting over the rim of your glass at her. And it looks like he's in the process of buying her a drink for it.

If it was anyone else, you'd figure that they were trying to make a move, but Matthew Kim is just that nice. A little bit of a player, if memory serves, with the smooth talking and earnest extroversion, but a very sweet guy overall.

You lose track of your very hot roommate after a while.

Your boss finds you, and makes you participate in a very long toast to the success of the conference, and after that, Matthew is long gone.

It's not that birthday girl, because she's still here with her coworkers, but you assume (based on nothing, admittedly, nothing but looks) that maybe he's hunting somewhere else. He seems like he's the party type, anyway. Maybe he's going somewhere else for a second round. Who knows.

Conferences are supposed to be "fun," but you all do still have meetings in the morning. You've had about all the fun you're going to have, tonight.

You bid your coworkers a good night, and you retreat to your room.

You just want to get through this trip without anything embarrassing happening.

So, of course, you run into your very hot roommate at the elevator.

He's standing there, waiting, button already pressed, when you walk up, and he looks nothing but happy to see you.

"Oh, hey," he grins. "Goin' up?"

"I'm done for the night," you agree.

"Feel that. I wanna take a shower and crash."

You'd neglected to process, until this moment, that the two of you are sharing a shower, too.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted," you find yourself saying, anyway.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and the two of you are quiet on the ride up. Both playing with your phones, and while your calm is completely forced, his seems natural.

You go to the room in companionable silence.

But once the door is unlocked, and the two of you go in, there is one glaring problem.

"That don't look like two doubles," Matthew says.

He's right. The room that you'd been promised, a double room with two beds, instead has one luxurious queen. Your privacy and his, assured by the HR people arranging this trip, are all but gone.

The only thing your traitorous brain can think, though, is that this situation isn't half bad.

"I'll call the front desk and see wassup," Matthew says, going for the room phone.

He puts the call on speaker.

"I'm so sorry, but we're fully booked. Unless you're able to switch with other members of your booking party, there's really nothing we can offer aside from compensation after the stay..."

The concierge sounds properly apologetic in corporate, and you can't blame them for this. It is what it is.

"That's gonna be more trouble, isn't it?" Matthew asks you.

"Yeah."

"Then we'll jus' figure it out," he decides.

Figure it out.

Okay.

Figuring it out turns out to mean Matthew taking a shower, and then you taking a shower, and then both of you standing on your respective sides of the bed. The energy is indescribable.

"You sure this is okay?" he asks.

You wonder what kind of face you're making, that makes him think he has to ask that.

"As long as you're okay, too," you say.

"Can I just..."

You nod, and he peels back the duvet and makes himself comfortable. There's something kind of intimate about joining him under the covers right away, so as casually as you can, you lay on top, instead.

He doesn't comment on it. Gracefully, he just rolls over to one side and gets back on his phone until you get comfortable.

And after you've wriggled yourself into a comfy spot, he asks you, "Did you have a good time?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it was nice," you say. "Did you do birthday shots with what's-her-name from Chula Vista branch?"

Matthew laughs. "Just like...one."

You're not jealous, you're really not, but there's a very particular feeling under your skin that you can't shake.

"Nice."

"You coulda joined it."

You shrug. "Don't know her. It'd be weird."

"Nah."

You venture out on a limb. "I'm assuming there's no partner in the mix who's gonna get mad about you, like, buying birthday shots? And sleeping here?"

"No girlfriend," he affirms.

"A hunk like you?"

He laughs again.

The two of you aren't looking at each other, which is good, because you're audaciously embarrassed that that horrible sentence came out of your mouth. Either sentence, honestly. What business of yours is it, if he has a partner?

"Not much time," he says.

"Could have tried to bag that birthday girl," you joke.

"I think she's married," he muses. "Wouldn't be cool."

"Yeah, true."

Matthew turns to peer over his shoulder at you. "How 'bout you?"

"I'm not married," you say.

"I figured. But like...nobody back home?"

You've still been staring at your phone, until now. You glance at him.

"No."

You guys have eaten meals together maybe three times. You've gotten drunk together at least that many times. Your total time in his company is definitely less than one calendar day.

You've shared a bed, now, for about four minutes.

So the path from that to tugging Matthew on top of you and kissing him senseless is a little foggy.

He lets you, though. He laughs, a little, and he rolls easily into you, pulling the covers with him. They form a frustrating little barrier between the two of you, but that doesn't matter yet. You've got your arms around his neck, his hand planted in the mattress beside your shoulder, holding himself up as he curls around you and meets you inch for inch.

"S'goin' on?" he asks, sly.

Honesty is the best policy, you decide. "Anyone ever tell you you're super hot?"

"Maybe once or twice."

His words are cocky, but his smile is small and pleased, the genuine and slightly bashful expression of a guy who isn't used to being complimented like that.

"You should hear it more often, holy shit," you say.

He laughs again, louder.

"Would it be out of pocket to say that I'm curious what's under those lil pajamas?" he asks you.

You'd packed some demure and cozy sleepwear for this trip, normal t-shirt and long pajama pants. It seemed practical at the time, but now all you can think about is the sheer number of square inches of skin that are being cut off from touching Matthew, in his muscle tee and basketball shorts.

"You can be curious," you say. "Just depends if you're gonna do something about it."

"Ooh. You're kinda fun."

"I try."

You go for the hem of your own shirt, before he can. But he catches your wrist gently.

"Can I?"

"Of course. But you gotta make it fair," you tell him.

He strips off his own shirt before going for yours, and you're so transfixed by the sudden sight of his shredded torso - abs, pecs, lats, other things that you don't know the name of, scattered tattoos in thick ink - that you barely blink as he gets the garment off and flings it away to the room at large.

Your bottoms, and his, are lost just as quickly.

"I bet," Matthew says suddenly, halfway down your torso to do a little exploring below the waist. "Yo, I bet that the hotel staff did this on purpose."

"Did what?"

He smacks the mattress with one hand. "The bed."

You snort. "We were set up. Damn."

"Worked out kinda good for us, though."

"I'd say so."

Matthew continues his descent, telling you very seriously, "I hope these walls are kinda soundproof."

Oh, jeez. He's implying- "Why?"

"Cuz I think my boss is in the next room, and I really don't wanna have to explain this tomorrow."

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #kard fanfic #kard smut #kard bm fanfic #kard bm smut #matthew kim fanfic #matthew kim smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 19: in the bath

mamamoo 1.1k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Ahn Hyejin (Hwasa) NSFW

🖤 warnings: ...tbh this is pretty tame, i have a thing for water that maybe comes thru here idk🖤

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She's a vision, haloed in the light from the parted window shades, in the warm foggy air above her bath.

You're just watching her. A not-so-secret spectator, taking in her beauty as you linger just outside the bathroom door. She knows you're home, so it's not like you're actually peeping. You're on an errand for her, actually; bath snacks are a must for your favorite lady, and you're not about to make her stop relaxing just to grab them herself.

The snacks are in your hand already, all set to deliver, but you can stand here for another moment.

She luxuriates.

She draws one pretty leg out of the bathwater, hooking it over the edge of the tub, bare to the air. Steam rises from her skin.

Her long hair is piled on top of her head, giving you a lovely view of the slope of her neck, her face in profile.

So beautiful. You can't stay away.

You go in, then, and she beams at you when you hand over the packet of potato chips. That leg goes back into the bath, so she can sit up properly and tear open the packet.

"I don't think those are gonna survive the bath," you point out.

Hyejin shrugs. "Only if I drop them in."

Which she doesn't plan to do, you know. Not her precious chips.

You see Hyejin in states of undress a lot, but this kind of full-body relaxation is truly something else.

She's always sexy, and she's always gorgeous, but when she's completely comfortable, she's transcendent. Carefree vibes aren't easy to come by, not sincerely, when someone does what she does. Eyes always on her, expectations always rising.

Here, she's just Hyejin.

In the claw-foot bath. With her chips.

"Didn't you wanna get in?" she asks you.

"I wouldn't want to disturb your nice time," you reply.

It's not self-deprecation, it's just honesty. She likes to be alone, sometimes, and that's fine. It doesn't bother you when she wants her very limited free time to be just that: her time.

But she shakes her head. "You wouldn't."

"I would have to go get unready," you muse.

She groans. "That's no fun."

You sink down to rest on your haunches beside the tub, leaning over the edge a little, just to get closer to her face. The water smells like flowers, something lightly perfumed. The steam is enticing.

"How long are you gonna stay in?" you ask.

"Forever."

You grin. "Then don't be impatient."

Hyejin pouts. She reaches out, long fingers and long nails, and takes hold of your face by the chin, squeezing so gently.

"You don't want to spend time with me?" she asks.

You know that tone.

"Of course I do," you tell her.

She rises onto her knees, carefully rolling her chip bag over and dropping it to the tile floor. She leans into you.

"Then come play with me."

Hyejin kisses you slow and sweet like honey. Detailed, attentive, like she's trying to put a spell on you. She doesn't need to, of course. You're already too far gone for her. But there she is, the dampness from her bare shoulder pressing a warm spot into your shirt, while her tongue maps out the back of your teeth.

She's like a siren, you think, deliriously. A mermaid luring you in.

When Hyejin pulls back, you bite your lip, and open your eyes. She's there, and she's beautiful.

She studies you for a second. "Is your phone in your pocket?"

"No," you tell her mindlessly.

"Good."

She throws a handful of water at you. It splatters down the front of your shirt, and you yelp in protest.

"Oh, you're already wet," she says innocently. "You might as well just get in."

You stand up. She's won. You'll just strip and join her, like she wants so desperately-

"I said, get in."

Those long pretty fingers wrap around your forearm, before you can react, and one good strong tug has you tripping over yourself and falling into the tub.

You catch yourself on one leg and one arm, luckily avoiding all your important bits (teeth...nose...) smashing into the side of the tub. It isn't very sexy, considering you're still clothed and now extremely waterlogged, but most of you is in the tub. Water sloshes out onto the floor from the impact.

"There," Hyejin says, satisfied.

She really has won, now.

You can't even be annoyed about it. You would have gotten in, anyway, but this is kind of more fun.

"I'm still dressed and everything," you tease. "How is that any help for you?"

"Oh, now, I get to take it all off," she grins.

Taking off a very warm, very wet t-shirt is also not very sexy, but Hyejin seems to enjoy the game of it nonetheless. She's laughing as she peels the long sleeves down your arms and throws the whole wet mess across the room.

Your comfortable shorts are easier to get off, but they're also heavy with all that absorbed water. Hyejin wrings them out before she throws those, too.

When you're as bare as she is, just warm skin in the steamy water, sending relief into your muscles and a pleasant tingle up your spine, Hyejin arranges you like her own little doll. She gets you sitting flat on the bottom of the tub, and she plants herself right in your lap.

"What did I say?" you chastise. "Impatient."

"I am," she nods.

"You're lucky you're cute."

"I always get what I want, don't I?" she replies.

Her gaze is so sultry. It's not the same as the face she sells, with her pristine makeup and strong aura. It's much more quietly assured. The confidence of knowing exactly how short of a leash she's got you on. Assurance of how much you adore her.

And you do, of course. You adore her.

"You do," you say. "How could I ever say no to you?"

You pinch the side of her leg playfully, making her jump and slosh yet more water over the lip of the tub.

The overflow valve really doesn't work in this thing. Inconvenient. That's what it's for, dammit. Save you from cleaning up messes like this. You'll have to look at that later.

Your home improvement thoughts are immediately derailed when Hyejin grinds down on your lap and trails her hands up your shoulders to meet at the nape of your neck, holding you close.

"I want something else, now," she says, voice low.

Impulsively, you reach for the oversized scrunchie keeping her hair in place. "Can I?"

Her quick nod has you unwrapping the hair accessory, letting her sleek coppery hair fall in waves around her shoulders.

The damp ends of her hair sticking to her skin, to yours, the hungry look in her eyes...

She just might be a siren. Ready to eat you alive.

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #mamamoo fanfic #mamamoo smut #hwasa fanfic #hwasa smut #mamamoo hwasa fanfic #mamamoo hwasa smut #ahn hyejin fanfic #ahn hyejin smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 17: oral fixation

stray kids 1.1k words female reader insert Reader x Kim Seungmin NSFW

🖤 warnings: kink discovery, a nice good-natured roasting during sexytimes, penetrative sex (f receiving), mild d/s dynamics🖤

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This would undoubtedly be considered a happy accident.

He just wouldn't shut up.

Which, honestly, is par for the course for Seungmin. If there's a snide comment available for the situation at hand, he's gonna say it. That's just in his nature. But sometimes it gets under your skin. Not every action needs running commentary, you know?

An endearing quirk can turn annoying so quickly. Especially in bed, where you're both so vulnerable and things can be taken so personally.

This was one of those times, when every little thing you did was being met with a comment and a raised brow, a challenge. You were annoyed, and you really needed him to get in the zone for a second. So you pressed your hand over his mouth to physically keep him quiet.

That didn't work, though. So, even more annoyed, you shoved your fingers into his mouth.

It was spur of the moment. You might even call it an accident.

But you did it; you shoved two fingers into his mouth so that he couldn't spout any bullshit around them.

And now you're sitting here, your fingers still pressing against his tongue, your wrist cramping awkwardly from being held aloft. Seungmin is similarly frozen. staring at you in relative terror.

The unabashed moan that'd just come out of his mouth is still ringing in your ears.

It was sincere, from deep in the chest, far too real to be him fucking with you. He's embarrassed, too. You can tell from his wide, frantic eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, you pull your fingers back, not even minding the wet grossness. That doesn't matter now.

"Um..." Seungmin tries and fails.

"What was that?" you ask.

He's very sincere. "I...don't know."

"Because it seemed like..."

"Babe, please-"

"It seemed like you were about to nut hardcore just from my hand in-"

"Please," he begs, as if you're not going half as easy on him as he usually goes on you, roast-wise.

"What?" you ask. "If that's something you like, I wanna deliver."

You also aren't gonna give up this golden opportunity to mess with him, but that goes without saying.

"Who said that's something I like?" he challenges shakily.

Well, you're both bare-ass naked. You'd gotten pretty far into this encounter, clothes long forgotten and skin against skin. So there is one above-average-sized hint that this is indeed something he likes. He's still rock-hard.

You don't mention it, though. "Are we gonna pretend that didn't just happen?"

"I would prefer that, yeah!"

If it's what he really wants, then yeah, eventually, you'll let it go. You're not about to really upset him for no reason. But how could you let this slip through the cracks without proper investigation?

"Okay," you say. "Okay. So you're telling me you don't want me to keep putting-"

"That's not pretending it didn't happen!" Seungmin complains.

"I'm sorry," you apologize soullessly.

He glares at you, but he does let you get in nice and close again.

Moment of interesting new sexy discovery or not, you still want him. And you're gonna have him. Comfy on his lap, now, you're just a quick adjustment and a slow, careful slide away from being filled by him.

"Fuck, yes," Seungmin sighs.

You settle against his thighs, grinning as you feel him flex beneath you, trying not to buck up into you too hard, too soon.

"I missed you, you know," you tell him.

Seungmin tilts his head to the side, puppylike, wry. "It's been like three days."

"Three days," you agree. "Terrible."

"Needy."

"That's you."

It's so comfortable with him, though. Comfortable, as you take up a slow, rocking rhythm to ride him. Even comfortable enough to try your luck with some more mischief.

The first time was a happy accident. This time is on purpose.

You're gentle about it, not wanting to upset him by being too aggressive or embarrassing or, like, disrespectful. No, you just trace your hand over his gorgeous face, down the line of his cheekbones, to his pretty jaw. He indulges in the attention, too, always glad to have your eyes on him.

Carefully, you press your fingers against his lips again.

He pouts.

"What?" you ask.

Seungmin doesn't make you move your hand, though, speaking against your fingertips. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," you promise. "I'm really not."

"I get it, it's funny that I mo- reacted, or whatever. Let it go," he says.

You stare at him, imploring.

"If you really, really want me to drop it, I will," you say, "But I really feel like this is something you like. And if it is, then I want to try it."

You can't say for sure why you're being so adamant about this.

Maybe because Seungmin so rarely asks for things like this for himself. He's pretty tame, in bed, very much fine with you making the changes that you want, calling the shots according to your tastes. He'll always tell you what he doesn't like, but it's much less common to hear what he does like.

There's nothing more exciting that the idea of giving him something that he wants.

Seungmin does not disappoint.

He's flushing pink across his cheeks and his neck, and he's so fucking hard inside you, as he parts his lips and lets you press your fingers inside his mouth again.

It's just gentle pressure, the weight of your fingers on his tongue. Simple, for you, barely anything at all.

You're still rolling your hips gently, stimulating yourself to keep things interesting, as you curiously watch his expression change. A little bit distracted. Floaty eyes, something, you'd wager, like that headspace after a good orgasm. You're fascinated.

Oh, this is different. He likes this.

You clench around him, rising up and sitting back down, and he groans, lips moving around your fingers.

You do it again, but this time you press your fingers into his tongue just a little, making the weight of them more noticeable.

This time, he moans.

"Baby, you really like this," you say, breathless.

Seungmin looks you in the eye, his gaze unfocused. He doesn't try to speak around your fingers, but the flush spreads to his ears.

"You just need your mouth full, huh?" you say.

You're not expecting it, but he nods, dazed.

"Oh, honey." You can't help the way you're practically cooing. "Seungmo, baby, did you not know?"

His tongue flexes against the pads of your fingers.

"Before today?" you clarify, "Did you not know that this was something you wanted?"

Sheepish, he shakes his head.

"Have you never gotten fucked with your pretty mouth filled?" you ask.

You can't even be embarrassed about the way you're talking. It's too good, to delicious, to have him like this.

Flustered, lost in the moment. His hips are rocking up into you, his lips wrapped around the intrusion of your fingers.

Incredible.

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #stray kids fanfic #stray kids seungmin fanfic #stray kids seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin fanfic #stray kids smut

[lavenderbexlatte]

i can't believe coach ukai from haikyuu was 26 he should've been at the club

#😔🙏

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 15: lingerie

twice 1.4k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Hirai Momo suggestive/SFW

🖤 warnings: lots of staring, a secret lingerie kink, or maybe just a big crush on momo who even knows~🖤

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You've never felt less professional in your life.

It's the very essence of your job to look at pretty people. Being an assistant DP means your life is full of spotless sets, glittering lights, and beautiful, beautiful people. And usually, it's all mundane.

People can get used to anything, after long enough. And you'd thought you were used to pretty people.

This shoot isn't even anything special.

You've done dozens of lingerie shoots. Even a few kink shoots for adult websites, with even less clothes than the models are wearing today. And usually, any twinge of interest in the people wearing those clothes is absolutely killed by the alternately boring and stressful demands of your job. It's hard to be horny when you need to hold reflectors for eight hours straight.

But this client is unbelievable.

She's independently famous, something outside of modeling, but you're pretty sure you've never seen her before today.

You wish you had, though, because she's stunning.

The line being advertised is some very expensive lingerie brand that you've also never heard of, delicate luxury fabrics that the wardrobe girls have already complained about. Apparently they're only allowed to use certain kinds of thread to tailor them up, something about weight and fabric pulling. The intricacies of fashion are above you, but that's fine. The models look great.

Especially this girl.

You're sure your face is extremely unprofessional, as she takes off the big teddy bear coat covering her outfit and steps onto the set.

Her abs catch your eye first. You don't see many models with visible abs that seem like they're the result of effort, rather than simply body composition.

Wouldn't matter to you, either way, because her face is equally as stunning, and you can't fake that. Intelligent eyes and a sneaky smile, glossy black hair with stair bangs.

Ridiculously pretty.

"Are you ready?" asks the director.

This girl nods. "Ready."

"Anything uncomfy?"

"No."

"Then let's get going."

It's a businesslike exchange, polite and short, and usually you'd be right there with everyone else. Your boss, the DP, who's calling lights and judging the placement of fake plants. The director nudging and complimenting the model into different spots on the tight set.

Usually, you'd be just as busy. But you're just kind of...watching.

Watching, as this girl in her thick garters and black bustier bends and smolders and tosses her hair for the camera.

Someone finally says her name, and it's the makeup artist, darting to the edge of the set between shots.

"Momo, can I fix your lipstick?"

You think her lipstick is perfect, personally, but whatever. The makeup artist smooths a little brush over the model's full bottom lip, taking away some imperceptible imperfections, and you just watch, like an idiot.

Really, you never thought you had a thing for lingerie.

It's part of your job to see it in detail, like this. It's part of life to see it at all. You're  person in society. Clothes never really did it for you, even intimate clothes.

Must be the girl, then.

It must be.

"Let's do the warm light, next," the director decides. "Can I get the reflector in here?"

Shit. That means you.

The unwieldy gold fabric circle is admittedly pretty neat, a tool that reflects the studio lights back with a warm gold-colored tint. And this one is handheld, which means that someone has to stand next to the model and angle it just so, to get the perfect lighting.

That someone is you.

And in you go, hauling the reflector.

"Up close on the left, please. Her right," the director tells you. "Thanks."

You can't see any flaws in her lipstick up close, either. Momo gives you a very interesting, oddly knowing kind of smile, as you hover beside her with your reflector. It's a few moments of taking direction - a little right, a little up, closer...not that close you're in frame - and then just holding the pose until the director decides to let up.

Usually you'd be counting the seconds, as your muscles stiffen up from staying in the same awkward spot, praying for the shoot to end.

But right now, you're focused on not being super weird.

You need to watch her, to make sure that the light doesn't change. You need to be aware of the glare off the silvery hardware of her garters, to move the screen around if she changes poses. That, of course, means you kind of need to stare at her.

And Momo seems to like that you're staring at her.

Maybe you're reading into it, just wishful thinking. But every time she adjusts, and you adjust with her, trying to look at her just enough but not too much, Momo...looks at you.

It's a smirk, it's definitely a smirk. Not a smile. Sneakier than that. She's smirking at you.

That probably means that you're being obvious, and she can tell that you're interested in her. Or at least intrigued by her. She's so pretty, pretty enough that you probably wouldn't be brave enough to approach her at a party. Pretty enough that she's probably used to people reacting to her like this.

It doesn't help that she's only wearing lingerie.

"Anything else you wanna try?" the director asks.

This director is a nice lady, accommodating even when she has to rush through bookings like this to meet deadlines, so this is one of the usual questions. Letting the models suggest poses and concepts helps them take some control over their gigs, a rarity in the fashion world that moves so fast and objectifies so quickly. You usually appreciate it a lot.

But today, Momo hums her consideration, and looks at you.

"What do you think?" she asks.

You startle. "What?"

"Is there any position you think would look good?"

Momo is grinning at you, an innocent smile, but her eyes are glinting. She absolutely knows what she's doing, and she's doing it on purpose.

The director doesn't even blink. "Any ideas?"

"I mean, I-" you stammer. "No, everything has been good, yeah-"

"Then we're finished," the director decides.

Embarrassing, but you're safe now.

Or, you're safe for the next ten minutes.

Sets move fast, and it's only a matter of seconds before Momo has retreated to the greenroom with her manager, and the next girl is brought out. This girl is also very pretty, but you don't have the same brain-melting reaction to her. Which is a fucking relief, because it means that you didn't suddenly get weird.

As the next shoot starts, the DP calls you over.

"Can you go get the colored screens? We're gonna need red for this girl."

"Sure," you agree.

So you take the gold reflector, and the regular silver one, and walk to the supply racks to find the primary-colored ones. You'll grab red, and blue for good measure...

"You got a second?"

Oh, no.

You turn around, and there's Momo, wrapped in her teddy bear coat again, leaning against the doorway to her closet-sized greenroom.

"I guess," you say, nervous.

"I just wanted to know if you liked this outfit."

While you still have the presence of mind, you put the reflectors in their spot on the wheeled rack in the hallway.

That's a good call, too, because as soon as your eyes are on Momo again, she drops the coat.

And there's that lingerie set, again.

"It seemed like you liked it," she adds.

She's still standing like she's on set, posed against the doorframe, her fluffy coat piled at her feet. It's ridiculous that someone can be this hot. You're mesmerized by the dip of her skin around the tight band of the garters, the smooth lines of her cleavage over the top of the bustier, her abs...

"I liked it. I like it," you say.

You probably sound way too eager, but it's too late to try and fix yourself.

Momo tilts her head, looking purposefully, artfully curious. "Would you wanna touch it?"

You wheeze.

"The outfit, I mean," she says mildly. "Of course. It's really nice. You could touch it."

You're not entirely sure what's happening, or why, but there is some higher power smiling down on you right now, and you're not about to waste it.

Fingers of one hand tugging at the thigh strap of her garter, the other hand smoothing a path up the expensive silk and lace of her bustier. She's all but laughing at you and your eagerness, and she lets you crowd her backwards into her greenroom. You at least have the presence of mind to not want to get caught.

"This a normal thing for you?" Momo asks.

You relish the chance to answer. "No!"

"Huh." Her face is far too satisfied. "Must just be me, then."

The feeling of the delicate material of her lingerie under your hands does feel fantastic, but you think she's probably right.

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #twice fanfic #twice momo fanfic #hirai momo fanfic #twice smut #twice momo smut #hirai momo smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction