BBOKI

i said i was done with this blog and wouldn't be coming back but i can't not speak up for people who have been tirelessly bullied and pushed away from their platforms because you soulless fucks couldn't keep your mouths shut. because you don't like something. because you decided it was a good idea to go rant and whine and rave about how people have "bad grammar" (when you can't even spell grammar correctly) or write poorly and it's "so boring." and yet, you still found the time to read it?

if it was so boring then why did you read it? "oh i didn't." mm you must've if you knew how 'boring and bad' it was.

learn how to scroll. learn how to move on and do better. and learn that while you're typing disgusting hate behind an anonymous user online - just because you're on anon doesn't mean you're not the words you speak.

and to the writers who were directly impacted by the blog made and things said - know you are so much better than them. it does not matter if your grammar isn't perfect or english isn't your first language; it doesn't matter if you write headcanons, full fics, drabbles; it doesn't matter if you write nsfw/smut or if you're totally sfw and prefer to write fluff & angst. it does not matter. there is bound to be someone out there who will adore your writing - but first and foremost, it should be you. write for yourself, not those around you; though do know that while i'm still quiet on this blog and lingering - i will always be here to support you and cheer you on from the sidelines.

with all the love in my heart ,

He rang the doorbell at precisely eleven, with that apologetic twinkling in his eyes that makes you feel things a married woman shouldn't—at least not towards anyone but your husband, and definitely not towards someone younger—knowing it's too late for your daughter to be awake, but giving it a try nonetheless.

You'd invited him in for a break and a quick chat, and he'd told you about how Riki from the football team signed him up to be the Santa impersonator in your tiny town for the year, and how despite the initial embarrassment he didn't have the heart to tell anyone involved in the initiative that he didn't really mean to offer his help. That, and he wasn't going back to his family for the Holidays this year anyway, so why not make a few children happy on an otherwise very lonely night?

What neither of you expected, was for him to have you folded over the couch armrest, your head hovering just above the floor and a dizzying feeling spreading over your entire body—if from the way blood rushes to your head or from how intensely he's licking away at your dripping cunt, you can't exactly tell.

"Should've made a move sooner," Jungwon moans against your puffy lips in between licks of his tongue, voice hoarse from need. He's laying stomach down on the couch, still in his Santa costume, with his strong hands spreading your asscheeks open to give him the perfect access to your heat. "But your ugly and balding husband is always around like a fucking cockroach that won't die. To think he was keeping me away from this." He punctuates the sentence with a long stripe drawn with his tongue, from your sopping hole to your sensitive clit, and then backwards, until he can shallowly dip the tip inside of you and fuck gently with his wet muscle. He groans into it and makes you feel how drunk your taste makes him, how easy it is for him to turn you into a blabbering, cross eyed mess in the same living room your husband could walk any minute into.

"Picked up an extra shift on Christmas of all days while his pretty little wife is home? He doesn't deserve you like I do, baby. I would never leave you and the kids. Fuck—Holidays, birthdays, trips, nothing could remove me from this sweet cunt you have on you."

You loudly gasp when he latches his mouth onto your clit and starts suckling, and swirling it around in his mouth, playing with it, circling it with his tongue only to let his lips engulf it again and leaving you no room to ground yourself. Your hands fly from grabbing the big hands on your ass to supporting your weight, braced against the floor, but Jungwon roughly pulls them back and holds both of your wrists against your lower back in the palm of one hand. He does it so easily your head spins, lust shooting through your body as the younger man manhandles you however he sees fit. He holds you there, with his strength alone, hanging over the armrest like you're featherweight, and your mouth drools at the thought of his bulging biceps you only get peeks of when you run into him as he comes back from working out, hair dripping from the shower short sleeves even in the dead of winter.

"Be quieter, baby. We don't want to wake the kid up," he says it so lovingly, so fondly it almost sounds like the kid is his, and the effect that has on you is devastating.

"Jungwon!" you yelp at a particularly harsh tug on your clit. "Please—I'm not gonna last long." It just leaves you, you yourself not knowing whether you want him to pull away and sink his cock into you, or if you want him to push you over the edge by ravaging you with his tongue alone.

He makes the choice for you. "Go on, cream my tongue like I know you're dying to do, give it all to me." He flicks your clit faster, and whenever your hole twitches and clenches around nothing, a stream of wetness gushes right on his awaiting tongue. He tells you to quiet down on the moaning, but the sound he makes are enough to wake the neighborhood up, and the squelching noises your cunt makes right along with him are no joke either.

The ringing in your ears is loud, so fucking deafening, but even that doesn't drown out the sounds of his synthetic clothes rustling against the fabric of the couch covers (which you will definitely have to wash before your husband comes back, because with the amount of liquids slowly soaking into it, telling him you accidentally spilled something won't cut it) and despite the lustful cloud muffling your thoughts, you realize Jungwon is humping the couch while he waits for you to finish in his mouth.

Oh, and what an image that is. You don't even need to see it yourself because it sends you straight over the edge, your tummy tightening in ways it hasn't done in years, so hard you think your insides might burst. You bite on your tongue hard enough to draw blood, just to try to keep any sounds in, but by the way Jungwon is also moaning into your heat right along with you like the hypocrite he is, you know neither of you are doing a decent job at keeping things within a respectable volume level.

You come, and you keep coming with every careful, deliberate lap he gives you, slower and sweeter each time like he's trying to commit every crevice of your pussy to his memory, like he wants to burn it in the back of his mind for years to come. You gush into his mouth with every twitch of your walls, and by the time you're almost done riding out what's probably the longest and best orgasm you've ever had, he's panting against your soaked mound too, pressing fluttering pecks to it like he wants it to mean something.

"Perfect, you're so… perfect," he heaves into your neck when he pulls your body up and turns you gently to lay with your back on the couch. You squirm when your skin makes contact with the uncomfortable amount of liquid beneath you, but neither of you care enough to move somewhere else. "You should be mine. I can't believe I have to watch you kiss your husband goodbye every morning while I get on my bike and ride to class. I can't even fucking focus because all I can think about is having your lips on me. That should be me."

He pushes your knees apart to make space for himself between them, and the press of his bulge, hard and throbbing and huge, against your naked, slick pussy is almost too much to bear when you're still so sensitive from the mind blowing high he gifted you. "You're gonna let me fuck you raw, yeah? Will you give it to me as a Christmas present? I came all the way here and you won't leave me go empty handed, right?"

You bite your lip, conflicted because on one hand you want nothing more than to feel Jungwon's length inside you with no barrier, on the other… you should at least try to be responsible. He is a college student afterall, a ridiculously hot one at that, probably getting his dick wet more often than he has it confined in his pants.

But you're not exactly thinking straight, maybe because the buzzing feeling from your orgasm is still making your entire body feel light, or because Jungwon's musky scent is clouding your senses, maybe even because of the one too many glasses of wine you had while waiting for your husband to get off work. Whatever it is, once he presses his length against your pussy one more time, the answer leaves you before you can stop yourself. You nod, and he lunges for his pants, but your words stop him in his tracks. "As long as you pull out."

He grins, a glint behind his eyes you catch but don't question because it's too soon gone, and his hands go back to lowering the elastic waist of his Santa pants, and his boxers soaked in precum along with them, just enough to allow his heavy cock so spring free.

Whatever you said about pulling out, you regret it because of the sight alone. He's big, pale and veiny at the base but so flushed at the tip, so heavy it hangs low even when he's so hard it looks like it hurts, with a slight curve upwards towards the middle of his shaft. Jungwon chuckles darkly when he catches you completely enamored with the sight of him, and he makes a show out of the quick pumps he gives himself, even more precum oozing out of the little slit in his tip like he has infinite reserves of it, and with balls so heavy, he might.

He lines himself up with your hole, gently teasing it with the weight of his cock head, but not actually pushing in until you're desperately wiggling your hips.

"Please, Jungwon. Want to feel you split me open," you beg so sweetly, and you know it gets to him because his length twitches against your slit,and his teeth dig into his lip so sinfully it only makes you crave him even more.

"First—" He lowers down to capture your lips in a messy kiss, all spit and tongue. His hand finds yours, and for a second you hope he might want to hold it, but he slowly yanks the wedding band on your ring finger, then throws it to the side with no care for it despite your surprised gasp. "That thing stays out of my sight when my cock is inside you. Understood?"

With that, and no patience for your answer, he slams into you and immediately sets a pace that has your mouth hang open in a silent scream, the couch driving back and forth against the dark colored parquet. Jungwon fucks a little mean, maybe a little too fast and too hard for someone that just got her pussy eaten to hell and back, but fuck if it's good. Better than anything you have ever had, better than anything you could've imagined with your hand between your legs while laying in your bed, your husband's side cold and reeking of his absence, and images of the cute guy next door plaguing your mind instead.

He's ruthless but precise, and the slight tilt of his cock only helps him reach so deep inside you your vision goes white every time his balls make contact with your puffy folds. You reach for his hair and hold onto the back of his head for dear life, the freshly shaven black undercut slippery with sweat as he keeps driving into you like it's the only thing that has ever mattered.

"God. You feel so fucking good, baby. Should've fucked you the first time we met when I moved in and you came over with food for me. So sweet. I could've eaten you right up. Should've known how badly you wanted my cock from day one." Jungwon moans, curses under his breath every time your cunt flutters against him and digs his nails into your hips like he wants your husband to find proof of what you're doing, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and slapping sounds getting more intense by the second.

Your hands leave his hair and drag all over his body, from the exposed flesh above his cock, you rake your nails underneath the big red costume, exploring his chiseled torso, every dip of his abs and the swell of his trained chest, lifting the fabric with your arm the further up you go. The sight has your toes curling and legs wrapping around his hips, and you don't want to eat your words, but if he'd ask again, you'd let him release inside you.

"You said I have to pull out," Jungwon pants, angling his thrusts to reach even deeper than what you thought humanly possible. "But shit, baby. It doesn't look like you really want me to." He reaches for the glass of milk your daughter set up on the coffee table before falling asleep, right next to the plate of cookies for Santa, and brings it to your chest, dribbling some of it and letting it soak into your bra. He bends down to lick over the red glittery material, sucking it into his mouth until the white liquid coats his tongue. When you grind your hips back on his, he laughs into your skin. "Red bra too, it's like you wanted us to match." He pushes the lingerie down until your nipple pops out, hard and swollen, and spills even more milk right on it, just to lap it back up and suckle on your sensitive nub. "I'd get you nice and pregnant, tits swollen with milk for me to taste every fucking day. You'd have no choice but to leave your loser of a husband and be with me. I'd give you so many fucking kids, keep you stuffed forever. Isn't that what you want? For me to live inside you?"

The way he sounds so convinced of what he's saying, voice an octave lower than his usual cheery tone, combined with how hard he has never once stopped fucking you, makes your brain quite literally short circuit.

You haven't said much this entire time, too busy with your mouth full of moans, but your voice and brain aren't even able to connect any longer, not when he starts grinding his hips in circles, with his tip oh so deliciously pressed against your cervix. It feels entirely too good, too much and not enough at the same time, the brink of your sanity one thrust in just the right spot away.

"Give me another one, baby. Give it to me."

When you come, it's sudden and you're nowhere near braced for it. Your body shakes violently against him, so much so Jungwon had to physically hold you down. You trash under his hips, milking all around him. Searing white and dark spots overtake your vision, and your blood and heartbeat are so loud in your ears you almost miss the groan your fluttering cunt rips out of him as he bottoms out completely and floods you with his cum in multiple spurts, his cock twitching restlessly with each one.

There's so much, so much inside you you can't think of a time you've ever been this full and satisfied, breathing erratic and overwhelmed, still shaking in Jungwon's hold as he keeps his hips flushed to yours and rubs soothing circles into your skin to help you come down from your high, even when his arms are still trembling and his heart feels like it might give out any second.

He looks at your dazed expression, in those few moments after an orgasm where you're literally glowing form within, any stress in your body completely melted away, and that's when he decides he cannot possibly ever let go of you, not now that he's had a taste.

⟡ Then it was when you realized the tree was slumping to the left. You stood on a stepstool to try and fix it - and nearly dropped the whole tree on the ground. Luckily, that didn't happen, but the stand almost broke and you left just leaning it up against the wall. Wonky looking but - it's fine. There wasn't much you could do with it unless Chris was there to help out so - it was good enough for now, even if it irked you a little bit.

⟡ And of course the cookies you baked just had to burn on the bottoms. They looked fine when you pulled them out of the oven, gingerbread cutouts turned flat and spread out into chubby looking blobs (which was perfect and oh-so cute,) until.. "Eugh-" You grimace, pulling the warm cookie from your mouth at the burnt taste on your tongue. Turning it over, the bottom of the poor ginger-bread boy is crisped to bits. Your lips curl into a frown. You'd have to make another batch, which would take another hour at least... UGH.

⟡ You decide to forget all of it; Chris will be home later on in the evening from the studio and you want to look cute when he gets home to exchange gifts and have dinner. So you tug on a christmas sweater and some nice jeans, deciding to spruse it up just a little with some nice jewelry. And then your bracelet gets stuck on your sweater and would you look at that, a seriously long thread is hanging down towards your hip. Your fists clench tight at your sides as you stare in the mirror, eye twitching.

⟡ And just then, Chris walks through the door. He grins as he enters, holding a small paper bag and his keys. But he stops short, lips parting and staring at your slightly-shaking figure to take it all in. He's not sure what you're angry about but he can tell it's bubbling under your skin and as he shuts the door, he glances around. "Oh, the lights aren't on."

⟡ The string that is your patience snaps in half and you groan, loud, grabbing a nearby sweater to throw it on instead. Chris watches as you tear off the Christmas one, toss it in the hamper and pull on the other. He hesitantly approaches, reaching out to touch your arms and steady you.

⟡ "Hey, hey." He tips his head to look at you, your gaze avoidant and irritated. "Talk to me, angel. What's going on?" He watches as you gently pull away, moving to sit on the couch. The drop of you plopping on the cushion just radiates defeat and he moves to follow, kneeling in front of you to listen. "Hey; Talk to me. Tell me what's going on in that pretty head."

⟡ "I tried..." You huff out a soft breath and Chris lifts a hand, gently rubbing at your arm to keep you calm. "I tried to fix the lights but they weren't working and we don't have any extras - and the tree almost fell over earlier and I almost dropped it --" At the mention of that, Chris' brow furrows in concern. "The tree?" "And then I tried to make us Christmas cookies but the cookies were like stuck to the pan and it took me so long to get them off the pan and then when I did, they were burnt? I don't know how they even burned like that, they looked fine on the pan and --"

⟡ "Hold on, Hold --" Chris blinks rapidly, gently grasping your arms to cut you off. "You said the tree almost tipped over? Are you okay? Did it fall on you?" When he's got confirmation that you're good, he lets go and keeps his eyes on you when you continue. "Well -- Let's think of it this way, yeah?" Chris offers a small smile, "You're safe and nothing is broken in the house, and we can still make tonight fun, yeah? We have gifts to exchange and I stopped to grab us dinner before I --"

⟡ "Dinner," you gasp. "God, I forgot to make dinner for you --!" Your heart breaks as you hear another mistake you made today, head dropping against his shoulder. Chris can only laugh softly as your body slumps into his, holding you close and rubbing his hands over your back as you whine. "It's alright, jagi.~ I got us something delicious to eat before I came home. My treat for my beautiful girl..~"

⟡ After you've relaxed a little, the two of you decide to eat and then exchange gifts. Of course he's excited no matter what it is - and your gift choices are even better than he could have imagined; Shirts he falls in love with, jewelry such as bracelets and a few necklaces for him to wear, and even a new bag he can carry in airports since the black one he usually uses has finally started to wear and tear. And his gifts - Gosh. Plenty of Fendi, along with a few cute dresses - some for Summer, some for fancier date nights - and he'd even gone the length to figure out what cosmetics and skincare you'd like. Things you use often - he figured he'd get you refills so you never run out.~

⟡ And when he asks you to grab him a cookie from the kitchen, claiming he likes the bitter taste of the burnt ginger-bottoms, he practically runs to your stocking (which was empty after exchanging gifts earlier) to drop a little something inside. When you return, he points to the stocking from where he lounges on the sofa. "Baby?" he coos, gesturing weakly. "I think you forgot something in there. Looks like there's something 'n the bottom."

⟡ "I swear I got it all," you murmur as you wander over, picking up the fabric to look in. Reaching in, you fish out a small velvet box.

A ring box.

⟡ Your eyes bore into Chris' skull as he smiles innocently, blinking over at you. "...Open it," he giggles, cheeks and ears flushed rosy at the sight of you holding the box. As you flip the top up, the ring inside shines up at you - reflecting the Christmas lights from your tree and dazzling. It's almost as if every worry and irritated from the day has washed right away from your shoulders, every weight lifted. You swallow, slowly pulling the ring from the cushion and trembling. "Chris -- This is.."

⟡ "An engagement ring, yeah," He beams, still giggly. "I thought next Christmas, we could spend it.. you know, married. And every Christmas after that, too." Chris grins. "Cause.. I don't plan on separating from you anytime soon, sooo..~"

⟡ He laughs out when you all but dive into his arms, hugging onto him so tight he's sure you might pop him like a balloon. His arms wrap around you just as tight, rolling over on the sofa so you had to cuddle into him, and he's all giggles as he gives you a little squeeze. "So I take it that's a yes?" He grins, pulling back just enough to look at you and steal a small kiss. When he sees you tearing up with a grin, he knows the deal is sealed. What he doesn't know is how it made you night a million times better; Who knew one little ring could fix all of the days problems?

⟡ The rest of the night is pretty much spent cuddling in each others arms. Chris is happy to place his head on your chest, arms around your waist and your legs around his as the two of you snuggle on the sofa. He'd put on some random romance movie, focused on the screen and the little kisses you place over his temples as he comes in and out of slumber. Though he can't help himself, stealing glances as you when you go on your phone to send quick messages and pics of the ring on your finger to your friends, grinning to himself. He's proud - and happy, of course. And he can't wait to spend next Christmas together with you again, only next time - as your husband.