Do U Like Choc Chip Cookies.
do u like choc chip cookies.
is this an ask going around in every blog lmao 😩 but to answer your question
More Posts from Taechaos
Little Secret
pairing: step-dad!Jungkook x fem!Reader
synopsis: From a fun celebration to not getting to the bathroom on time, you pee yourself in the middle of the living room and your step-dad has to take care of you.
warnings: smut, pseudo-incest, urine, fingering in tub, dubcon
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is the disgusting fic i was talking about 🥰 not proofread, just smth i wrote in one day for fun. enjoy as long as u dont hate piss lol 😔👍
It's a night of celebration—the end of high school. It's the best celebration yet because you, after surviving hell of twelve years, are at the legal age to drink in a bar with your friends; the best night you can recall in your drunken state. Dancing, singing karaoke, giggling: pure joy.
So why are you crying while stumbling around in the living room? You sob and hiccup with a hand over your face and the other holding the couch for support. It has never been so difficult to stand straight, and you're thankful your mother's sleep is so heavy that she wouldn't wake up from your wails.
But your step-dad's sleep is as light as a cat's, and you don't hear his heavy footsteps or grumbles as he climbs down the stairs. He rubs the sleep away from his eyes and they widen the moment they lay on you. He's about to call your name until his eyes trail down to the dark patch on your jeans. He doesn't need to ask why you're crying so loudly; it's easy to tell you're under the influence, and well, it apparently makes you very emotional since you're so upset about peeing your pants.
But you're not exactly doing anything about it.
"Oh, it's okay," Jungkook coos and walks over to you to bring you into a light hug.
You snuggle your face into his loose white shirt and sniffle. "I didn't– I didn't mean to," you snivel. "I-I couldn't get to the," you inhale shakily, "b-bathroom on time."
"That's okay," he runs his fingers through your hair soothingly, equally disheveled as his. "Don't cry, sweetheart. It happens; it's not a big deal. We'll get you cleaned up."
"I-I ruined it!"
"The washing machine—"
"No," you whimper pathetically, "it's ruined. My denim—" your head rolls back along with your eyes to the back of your skull. You go limp for a few seconds, and Jungkook holds you tightly. Just as he's about to ask you if you're alright, you continue, "the denim is forever ruined!"
Stepping away from his clutches, you rub your palms against the knees of your jeans and then the damp crotch area. The crotch and knees feel different; it makes your face scrunch up in sorrow. "Never the same," you exhale in a trembling voice.
Jungkook watches you in surprise and amusement. You tend to be closed off around him, well in the past year that he's been married to your mother at least. It makes him feel guilty to like you better drunk—extroverted.
"We'll get you new jeans then," he tries to comfort, but you only shake your head.
"Feel it."
He sighs with a breathy chuckle and feels your jeans as you asked. He touches your pockets and then your crotch, practically cupping your heat. It's still warm with your urine and you pout at the look he gives you. You misinterpret it as disappointment, but it's a look of suppressing laughter. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. I'll wash it, okay? Your mother won't know."
You scoff and wipe your tears away. "Thank you. I-I'm very sorry, so sorry."
"Don't be. Let's go to your room," he slings his arm around your shoulder and walks you upstairs. You hold onto his waist and keep your gaze downcast.
Your hiccups don't cease when you face the door of your bedroom. He twists the doorknob and lets you enter first. With puckered lips and tear stains on your face, you wait for him to come after you. He does, and then turns away from you. "Hand your jeans over to me, okay? I won't look."
He hears you shuffling behind him, and you don't take long to place the tainted pants in his waiting open palm. Your feet don't stay planted on the floor and you eventually land on your bed. The bathroom is right behind you, but you can't muster the energy to sit up nor open your eyes. "My underwear," you mumble with the side of your face squished against the sheets.
At your indirect request, he cranes his neck and takes a peek at you. You're lying on your stomach and his eyes unintentionally travel to your ass. For being your step-dad, he thinks it to be okay for him to drink in this erotic sight. It isn't as if he's about to take advantage of a drunk girl, no less his step-daughter.
"You can't take them off?"
"Mm-mm," you shake your head.
He blows out a deep breath and stands before your feet. The sight of your wet panties isn't meant to be attractive, but it does get his stomach in knots. He grabs the edges of your underwear and asks you to lift your hips, which you do sluggishly. They're off within seconds and he picks up your jeans from the floor before aiming to exit. He has to get out and cleanse his mind of all his filthy thoughts from seeing your bare pussy two inches from his mouth. "Don't fall asleep before taking a shower first," he reminds with flushed cheeks and pushes the door open.
"Help me," you whine childishly before he can leave.
He sighs your name as if exhausted—reluctant.
"Please!"
As if it's not bad enough that he got a small glimpse of your pussy, now you're asking him to give you a shower while completely naked. He's trying to be respectful by keeping his focal point at bay, but your ass is still hanging out while you're on the verge of a tantrum.
"Oh God," he mutters to himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. He gives in.
After throwing your dirty clothes in the washing machine downstairs, he returns quickly so he doesn't catch you fast asleep. Thankfully you're still awake, but not so alert.
He warns you to keep your eyes open while he fills the tub in your bathroom. There's a water bottle on your bedside table, which he tells you to drink lots from until he's back. He throws in a pink bath bomb sitting on the edge of your tub so you can hopefully relax. Never has he seen someone be in such a childlike headspace after drinking.
But childlike doesn't fit the current scenario when he's lying under your naked body in his boxers in the bathtub because you seem to be a lot clingier when drunk. You don't move a lot, which is a plus, but your butt is pressed against his crotch, which doesn't make the situation any better.
"I'm sorry," you slur sleepily, "I really didn't mean to." He can pick up the strong scent of vodka lingering around you better in this position.
He tightens his arms around your shoulders with his hands clasped above your chest as he whispers, "Don't apologize, sweetheart. You won't remember this when you wake up, and I'll keep it a secret. Don't you worry about a thing."
"Why are you crying?" he asks softly when you start to sob again. It's a dry cry, and he's certain you don't know what you're doing yourself at this point.
"I can't do anything," you complain, "I'm so tired and-and I can't move."
He stays silent so you can comfortably babble on and on about nothing until you say, "Wash me. Please."
Jungkook lightly pecks your neck and eyes your tits before dipping his hands in the warm, pinkish water and scrubbing your shoulders. You sigh at his gentle touch, prompting him to switch to your knees. "My knees are not dirty," you grumble incoherently.
"Hm? You're not dirty?"
"I'm not dirty there."
"And you're dirty where?" He's teasing you, knowing exactly where you want to be cleaned, but that'd further agonize him with how little freedom his erection has under the tight restraints of his briefs. It wouldn't be appropriate of him to use you to get rid of it, but is it against the law to simply bathe you?
"Down," you vaguely murmur.
He can't see anything of your lower region from the courtesy of the blanket of colorful hue that the bath bomb transitioned to, which both annoys and relieves Jungkook. But his hand only listens to you as it trails down to your pelvis. "Here?"
You nod against his shoulder, and that's all the confirmation he needs to palm your vulva. You gasp and slightly jump before adjusting to the feeling of his hand. The adjustment proves to be futile when a small moan slips past your lips at his fingers grazing your labia.
“You want me to stop?”
“No, no,” you breathe with a shake of your head. “I want to be clean, otherwise no sleep.”
“That’s right,” he chuckles and starts running his fingers down your folds. Stopping at your clit, he starts to circle the hood to thoroughly give you the cleaning you desire so much. It isn’t with any ill intentions that he gently cups your pussy and moves it up and down while you squeak out moans without shame. After a few rubs and touches, he's confident there is no more remaints of your drunk mistake. “You’re clean now, love. Want to go to bed?”
“I’m not,” you whine loudly and hold his wrist to keep his hand in place. “I’m not clean,” you cry out and he knows you’re going to start sobbing again, which you do—except your volume might risk waking your mother.
He tries to hush you, but you don’t stop with the crocodile tears. “Baby, baby, look at me,” he pulls your face by your chin, but you escape his grip easily and continue with your tantrum. “I won’t clean you if you don’t look at me.”
With your newfound defiant attitude, it's with a few huffs and puffs that you finally face him and he silences your sniveling with a press of his lips. It's not a kiss in his defence; neither of you are moving your mouths, which he appreciates now that you've gone quiet.
Now that the risk of your mother waking is taken care of, his hand is on your hidden heat again. At this point, it's easy to tell you're not worried about being clean anymore. You aren't sleepy, though you keep your eyes closed from being in this intimate proximity with Jungkook, you're in need of a climax. It's a shame that he's in a similar state as you, but if you're drunk to the point of asking your step-dad to touch you, it wouldn't be clever of him to ask you to return the favor.
Despite his clear lack of vision, Jungkook is a human anatomy professor and he finds your clit and squeezes it between two fingers easily, not to mention he's already experienced in the sex field. Your lips part into a whine and he opens his mouth to swallow your sounds as he slowly rubs your clit.
You lean into the—now labelled as—kiss needily, and he lowers his hand to poke at your entrance with his middle finger. He stupidly peeks an eye open to see if he's located it correctly, but your subtle thrust is approval enough. He cautiously shoves it inside your tightness and uses his palm to continue pleasuring your sensitive nub, grabbing your tit with his other hand to play with your nipple.
"Oh God, hmmm," you moan against his lips and sloppily make out with him, smearing your slick saliva all over. He hums into you, unbothered by your raw affection as he thrusts his finger inside and pinches your nipple to get you to cum faster. He can't have you sobering up any time soon.
"Are you close, love?"
You murmur something in response, but it's not intelligible enough for him to understand, so he assumes you're at least getting somewhere. He quickens the pace of his thrusts, his palm against your clitoris; massages your boob more roughly and moves his mouth down to kiss your neck. As he's giving you a small love bite, your breathing turns into mere gasps with little broken moans. If he could, he would add a second finger to your pussy, but your clenching hole doesn't feel so ready when he curls his knuckle.
You clutch onto his hair, chanting, "I'm gonna pee again, I'm gonna pee again…"
"Try to hold it in, baby," he cuts in hoarsely without ceasing his movements. He does slow down when your legs start to shake and tremble, splashing the water as you do as he leaves calming pecks on your neck, collarbone, and a few on your lips. Not as a warning to lower your voice—your last moans are ones to savour—but to ride out your high. He has no idea if you did squirt in the tub, but he isn't going to take another shower to wash it down. He wants to feel it on his skin.
He can feel your pounding heartbeat under his hand as your body spasms and grinds on his erection. A moment of silence passes with your shaky inhales and exhales while he pets your hair.
When he feels you calm down, he asks, "Do you feel clean now?"
"Bed."
"Alright," he whispers and kisses your cheek. Your eyes are closed and he predicts you'll be fainting soon, so he pulls the plug with ease and waits for the water to drain before pulling you up by your pits. It's a bit of a struggle because of your slippery wet skin, as well as the water weight on you, but manages to get you out and immediately throws you on the bed. He grabs a towel hanging on the bathroom door and dries you before himself.
Jungkook considers himself an honorable man most of the time, but he can't refrain from jerking off to your naked body while you doze off. Like he said, you won't remember a thing, so it'll be his little secret as he releases on your tits with a groan. He wipes off the evidence of his unorthodox actions, pecks you and your pretty little pussy before dressing you in your pajamas.
He puts on his clothes and tucks you in before leaving your room with a quiet, "Good night, sweetheart."
All there's left to do is persuade you into doing this again while sober, because he didn't marry your wretched bitch of a mother after two months of meeting if not to have you all for himself. He doesn't mind letting you in on that one secret with time.
“Little Secret”
I think she is also attracted to him in a way but of course since he is her step-dad she tries so hard to hide this but once alcohol is involved… 😏 just my thought. Really enjoyed this story ☺️❤️
who wouldn't be attracted to that sexy beast 😣🤚 as they say, drunk words speak sober thoughts so our homegirl is definitely sending mixed signals here 👀 I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT THO SHFJSJRJE *happy noises*
OC's instagram in Textbook Love
WHAT THE FUCK THAT CHOKING ONE I 😳😳😳😳 this is too good wtf 😤
Hi! I found your blog and am obsessed with your writing, it’s so amazing! I was wondering if I could perhaps get a prompt about an unseelie seducing the human into their realm and the human only finding out their cruel nature at the last minute?
I don't write prompts anymore, but I can do you a modern-typewriter original story snippet.
Their lover's cottage was lovely, quaint, all white stone and wildflowers. Their lover's cottage was a threshold, apparently, beneath their lands. The front door led to the human world, and the back door to the fields and the forests of the immortal courts.
"Are you ready?" the fey looked back at them, still holding the human's hand in theirs. They raised it to their lips for a kiss. "I understand if you don't want to do this..."
"I do!" It felt xenophobic to be frightened. Their lover had been patient with them, never complaining of homesickness - always smiling so beautifully, so sadly, as they thought of what they had left behind. What kind of person were they if were scared of seeing all the magic in the world? Of their lover, just because the world wasn't human? "I want to see." It wasn't a lie.
They'd always thought there should me to the world than what humans had. That was why so many people wrote stories about magic, wasn't it? Hoping for a glimmer of something extraordinary. And now...now they, of all people, had it. They had it and their lover was sweet and thoughtful and brilliant and so gorgeous that it almost hurt to look at them.
The fey smiled at them, bright as the sun.
They didn't know how they'd got so lucky.
"Of course I want to see your home," the human said, more firmly. "I'd never ask you to split yourself in half and stay with me forever, as if you're not what you are. That wouldn't be fair."
The human was, therefore, the one to led the way forward. They pushed the door open with fey's key - moving past a comfortable, elegant living room and a kitchen that smelled like baking bread and herbs.
"Just through the back?" they asked their lover, heart hammering.
"Just through the back," the fey echoed, softly.
The human drew a steadying breath and went through to the back door, stepping out into...
"Wow," the human breathed.
The world ahead of them was unlike anything they'd ever imagined. It was wild and it was magic. The trees shone like they were bioluminescent, vivid green and flowering against the pitch back night. They took a step forward, then another. Music drifted through the trees, something orchestral and lilting that made the human's chest ache. They turned to face the fey, wide-eyed, and - stopped.
They had never seen the fey look like they did just then.
In the human world, the fey didn't quite register as fully human, but they were close. A little too pretty, maybe. A little too graceful. Their lover only looked like their lover in the way that a painting could capture something of someone's essence. Their lover now was - the air around them felt different, cold. Not the cool of the sea washing gently over hot skin on a sunny day, but painfully frozen. And their eyes...
"Sweet little human," their lover crooned. Even their voice was different. It had always been like music, but now..."what's the matter?" the fey tilted their head. "I thought you wanted me to be able to be completely myself? Because you love me?"
The human bolted for the cottage door, still so small and so human looking. It didn't open. The key hole was gone.
The fey made a wounded sound.
The human whipped around, and then the fey was there, pressing them up against the wood in a mockery of intimacy. Their fingers closed on the human's hair, tugging their head back with a sharp yank, baring the human's throat.
"Say it again," the fey murmured against their lips. Their breath was like honeysuckle. "Go on."
"Why-I don't-"
"Say it." The fey's nails dug in.
Tears, bewildered and hurt, sprang to the human's eyes. Still. They straightened their spine against the door as best as they could.
"You said you loved me too." The human clutched hold of the fey's hand. "Your kind can't lie."
"Of course I love you," the fey said. "You simply have a mortal's adorable comprehension of what that means. Are you going to make me ask again?"
The human swallowed. They studied the fey's face, searching for something they recognised. The problem wasn't that there was nothing recognisable - there was too much, and not enough, and they'd been so blind.
"I love you," the human whispered. "And you're offended by the lie, aren't you?"
The fey looked momentarily surprised. Their grip loosened a fraction, enough to mimic something mortal.
"You hate that I would claim to love you and care for you when I don't know anything about you at all. Well." The human smiled, without mirth. "No more than 10% of you. How dare I call 10% love?"
It was the right and the wrong thing to say, they could see it on their lover's face. Right because it was why the fey loved them, why they'd picked them. Wrong because it was why the fey loved them, and why they'd picked them, and the human barely knew what that meant but the door was locked so it couldn't mean anything good.
The fey leaned in and kissed them, fierce and claiming, and the human had never been kissed like that before.
"Don't worry," the fey said, with a cruel smile hat still had the audacity to be stunning. "You have the rest of your life to make it up to me. For once you were blind..." They kissed the human's nose. "Now you will see."
They swept the human up into their arms, spun on their heel, and carried them into the lights and the dark.
Forever.