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#Did I make them all short because I myself is short... Definitely
howdyrat · 2 years
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Do people even do the " Genderbent" thing anymore? that was rhetorical question. pt.1
I do, and gotta say I like it. It might possibly be because I can't draw guys, but anyway my other post is making me want to do a different version of the dagger squad.
Warning: I like height differences and being unrealistic
Bob- 5'7, same glasses, and has shoulder length hair that's slightly fluffy likes to put in those hair pins when not on duty.
Hangman- 5'5, still likes toothpicks, has long blonde hair down to mid back, western boots to add some height, and best friends with Javy.
Coyote- 5'7, best friends with Jake, shoulder length box braids put up in a bun, has fun but is sort of a mom friend (more protective over Hangman), also can be immature while having fun.
Phoenix- 6'0, short black hair, is the leader (like usual), protective, calm, and intimidating (like usual).
Rooster - 5'8, Hawaii shirts, has somewhat of his mother's style of hair (Princess Diana fluff), and has the same scars.
Fanboy- 5'4, the shortest dagger, shaved head that reminds her of Aang from ALA, likes star trek's James Kirk and Nyota Uhura.
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violixs · 1 year
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hello..
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fatal-blow · 3 months
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growing up, my mum always told me, whenever i went to the doctors or any sort of health professional, that it was important that i told them that i was hypermobile. she'd done the tests with me (herself being hypermobile and disabled in large part because of it) and though she didn't know the details, she knew that hypermobility was important to have in my health record.
so it was to my great surprise and displeasure that, whenever i told doctors i was hypermobile, it was skipped over. never addressed, never touched on, not even a comment to belie what that meant for me. i myself didn't know the impact hypermobility could have on a person, but my mother had been insistent about that fact. it was important, so why did no one else seem to think so?
i grew up with kids in school who were on the extreme ends of hypermobility. i knew a boy in middle school who could put both feet behind his head. i knew a girl in high school with long, spindly fingers who showed me how far backwards her arm could bend.
both of them had health problems, which became more profound as they aged. i never knew the details, but it stuck out that they were hypermobile, and so was i, and with my own health declining there HAD to be a connection.
common knowledge gives the vague definition of hypermobility as extra stretchy muscles, of being double-jointed. it comes with warnings not to push your hypermobile body into the extremes. don't overextend, you will hurt yourself.
the warnings are warranted. the importance isn't overplayed. these things i knew, but i didn't know why. and without knowing why, they were warnings that i could never truly obey, despite how conservative i became with my movements in a vain attempt to protect what little ability i had left.
hypermobility is NOT stretchy muscles. muscles are supposed to stretch. in fact, it's important to their health (those conservative movements prolly hurt more than helped!). hypermobility affects connectives tissues, and lands under the umbrella of Ehlers-Danlos Sydromes (there are a few) which can range in severity from affecting skin and tendons to affecting blood vessels and organs.
severity is rare, and much easier to catch. this post is for the people who are "a little hypermobile" so that they can understand what makes their body different.
a muscle and its associated tendons are like a hammock. the muscle is the fabric you lie in, stretching to accomodate the load. tendons are the rope that attaches the fabric to the trees, providing a secure anchor for the muscle to operate.
so, what happens when the ropes on the hammock are also stretchy? well, you sit in the hammock and your ass hits the ground.
now imagine that the fabric of the hammock has the ability to clench like a muscle. a normal hammock doesn't need to work that hard to stop ass from meeting ground, because it has sturdy anchors. a hammock with stretchy rope, however, must exert several times more effort, because the more the muscle pulls, the more the tendons stretch.
in short, hypermobility forces your muscles to work harder, because they must first pass the threshold of stretch the tendons are capable of before it can actually do the task it's meant to do. the stretchier the tendons, the harder the muscle needs to clench, the easier it is to overwork.
this info reframed everything i was doing with my body. small tasks of strength required the effort of much larger tasks, and larger tasks ranged from extremely difficult to impossible. holding my arms up so i could work above my head required monumental effort. with an anatomical peculiarity of the feet, i needed to use several muscles in my calves and hips just to stand without losing balance.
so no fucking wonder i crashed and burned in my 20s, when everything i did took all of my strength to accomplish. no wonder i would contort myself out of shape, so flexible that i could anchor myself into extreme poses just to give my muscles a moment of relief, overstretching myself without ever realizing why, and what damage i could be doing.
so, some things to remember:
overextending isn't good for you, but it shouldn't be your biggest concern. instead, be aware of overexertion, both how LONG you are using a muscle without breaks and how HARD you are using it.
small, frequent breaks are your best friend if you need to do something for awhile.
when you take breaks, stretch the muscles you'd been using.
if you need to exert effort to maintain a pose (whether it's sitting, standing, etc) examine whether you need to be clenching those muscles, and why.
actually whenever you are using muscles, try to train yourself to use as few as possible. you can practice by sitting or standing, and relaxing as many muscles as you can before you tip over. finding a sense of balance can make your life so much easier.
become acquainted with what relaxed muscles feel like. chronic tension can distort your perception of this, and result in habitual tension.
so yeah. if you're hypermobile, that's important. don't let a doctor's dismissal make you think otherwise. take care of yourself and know what you are and aren't capable of.
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enkvyu · 1 year
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12:45am — gojo satoru ;
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“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.
“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”
“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”
shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."
shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”
“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”
shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.
"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”
“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”
you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”
“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.
you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.
yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.
seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.
with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”
“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"
yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.
your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.
when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.
his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”
“morning. what’s with you?”
gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”
your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”
“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”
“you sure?”
“i am.”
you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”
“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”
“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”
“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”
you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”
“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”
you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”
“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"
“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”
gojo leans forward. “yes?”
“crazy.”
he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.
you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”
gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”
“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.
he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.
you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.
the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.
“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.
gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”
“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”
gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.
gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.
“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”
he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”
“yeah?”
“and calm?”
you nod. “more than you, at least.”
“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”
the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”
“oh my god, you do.”
“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”
“you think getou’s great?”
“don’t you?”
“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”
"what are you even saying?"
"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"
baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”
gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”
the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.
“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.
“nothing!”
“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.
getou blinks.
“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”
“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”
“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”
"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."
"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."
you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.
subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.
something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.
you look away hastily and inhale.
gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.
getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”
“nothing.” gojo says.
getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.
gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”
at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.
yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"
“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”
“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”
your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?
slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.
did that mean…?
someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?
you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.
seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.
no, maybe you were wrong after all.
just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.
oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.
gojo has a crush on getou.
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filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"
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strangeasexuallegume · 2 months
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I redesigned the EG Mane Six! I tried to go based of the general design ideas of the originals, though I did deviate where I felt it better suited the characters.
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Twilight: For Twilight I mostly went for something that could look decent enough to make up for the fact that she has definitely been wearing it three days in a row. That bitch is NOT taking proper hygiene and you know it. I also wanted to play around with the idea of her struggling to walk no matter what, making her own mobility aids (that are albeit low quality and seriously uncomfortable since she was working with what she had) the first night that she was there, and then at some point Rarity reveals that she purchased and bedazzled a much better and comfier set of aides for Twilight. Other than that, not much else to say.
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Fluttershy: Tbh, I don’t have much to say about her other than True Stoner Rights and also I wanted to give her a look that would look nice enough to wear to school without risking being picked on, and also isn’t too outside her comfort zone. The look is based on what I thought as a kid was “Parisian fashion.” I imagine that that Fall Formal dress is actually outside her comfort zone, but she didn’t wanna make Rarity come up with a different outfit and honestly the whole thing was outside her comfort zone so it’s whatever.
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Rainbow Dash: I HAD TO FIX IT. RDS IS THE ONLY ONE IM CONSIDERING FIXED BECAUSE THIS IS NOT. MY. GIRL!!!! First off, why did they make her a SOCCER PLAYER??? TRACK IS LITERALLY HER THING SHE WAS BUILT FOR SPEED— I made her a track athlete instead. Second off OH MY GOD THESE OUTFITS ARE SOOOO NOT HER STYLE UGH, I KNOW THAT THESE DESIGNS ARE MOSTLY TO GO WITH THE SAME TREND AS MONSTER HIGH BUT TRJEJSHDJDGSISDRAGH THIS IS NOT RAINBOW DASH!! SAME THING WITH HER FALL FORMAL OUTFIT WHAT IS THIS, THIS ISNT WHAT SHED WEAR TO A PARTY!! UGH!! STUPID!!!!!
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AJ: A lot of her outfit was me working on pure nostalgia from when I was a kid in the early 2010’s. (Oh yeah I forgor to mention, I tried to change these designs to fit what I thought would work for 2013. Aside from Twilight, she looks more current to look more out of place) I remembered stuff like the ankle/shin high boots with all the different buckles that I remember adoring, the jeans or shorts that’d have all sorts of pretty embroidery on them, etc. etc. I also wanted to try and make her fall formal dress look more casual, which I figured would work since I’m assuming Fall Formal is sort of like the homecoming of this universe. Overall, hers was one of the most fun to design.
Side note, RD and AJ are making fun of each other’s trademark poses in all of the default pngs
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Rarity: She was kinda easy, I don’t have a lot to say about her if I’m being honest. I think she was the one that the designers ate with the most. Even her fall formal dress, there’s not much I wanted to change and was actually kinda stumped for a bit on what to do differently.
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Pinkie Pie: she is my Maximalist Kandi Scene Furry Queen. When dying her hair she either did it herself or told the person at whatever salon she went to that she wants to “look like an acid trip.” The non binary flag was made one year after EG first appeared but the genderqueer flag was made in 2011 so Pinkie Pie got True Genderqueer Rights. I couldn’t control myself and gave her straps. She stands out like a bleeding thumb. I love her. By far the most fun design. This was so incredibly self indulgent and I couldn’t be happier.
Edit: forgot to add, I used this pose reference by @albanenechi !
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mattybsgroupie · 20 days
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movies | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); semi-public; sub!matt
notes: hello my darlings!!! SUB MATT IS BACK!!! nothing much to tell about this one, it's super short and super simple, just jerking him off at the movies lmao. not proofread but hope you enjoy anyways! thank you for almost 1,7K i dont deserve all of this love, yall are just fantastic.
- ♡ -
when matt and i first started dating, the movie theater was our favorite place. it was dark, comfortable, and no one would disturb us. as we grew into our relationship, date nights were no longer a priority, but we both knew how much we missed it. the innocence, the butterflies in my stomach, the nervousness about holding his hand, the giggly kisses and the awkward confessions.
“are we really doing this again?” matt asked me with the biggest smile on his face, adjusting his sweater. i nodded, glad that i was able to convince him to go out.
“we want… whatever’s next” he said to the cashier as he interlocked his fingers with mine, raising his free hand to his pockets, looking for his wallet. “yeah, this one” he nodded and grabbed the tickets, leading us to our assigned seats.
- ♡ -
i didn’t know how long it had been since the movie started. i would often lose myself on matt’s blue eyes, his skin reflecting the red colors of the big screen, his poorly done beard emphasizing his sharp features. i couldn’t resist placing a few kisses on his jaw, receiving chuckles and a squeeze on my hand, almost as if he was warning me to behave because he was actually interested in whatever we were watching. 
until the scenery changed. the lights turned warmer, the music slower and suddenly it was hard to breathe. i felt my chest raising on its own as the sensual atmosphere took over the room, matt’s grip on my hands tightening, silently asking me to take my eyes off of him and pay attention to the erotic scene in front of me. 
we didn’t expect such an explicit act. the actress had removed her bra, flashing her bare breasts to the few people at the movie theater. matt’s mouth fell open in surprise and i audibly gasped, quickly raising my palm to cover my sudden noise.
both of us turned our heads to each other, widening our eyes as we tried to hold back our laughs. “i promise i’m not looking” matt joked, pretending to block his view.
“you can look” i giggled, adjusting myself on the chair and getting closer to matt, letting my hand rest on his thigh. “i know how much you like boobs”
“well” he stopped for a second. “you’re right, but i’d rather look at yours” matt checked me out from head to toe, a grin appearing on his face as if i was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
i decided to be bold. my free hand moved to the hem of my sweater, pulling the cloth upwards and revealing just a bit of skin - enough to get him excited. i mentally thanked him for always choosing the back row, giving us privacy to our heated makeout sessions back then.
“please?” matt whispered, his digits reaching for my exposed tummy. “wanna see your boobs, please”. 
it was definitely risky, but i couldn’t resist his pleading blue eyes, the way his top teeth bit his bottom lip, how his fingers caressed my belly. what seemed like nothing to others was already too much for us, along with the adrenaline of doing the same silly things we did years ago as teenagers in love. i had blew him at that same seat several times, but it was different now. as if we weren’t supposed to be acting that way. and it felt too fucking good to ignore.
i finally gave in, pulling my sweater and revealing my breasts. i wasn’t wearing a bra, making this way easier for matt, who immediately shoved his face in between them, muffling a “thank you” i was only able to hear because it was a habit. he would always thank me for anything i gave, even my boobs. 
his beard tickled my skin as he moved downwards, resting his cheek just above my left tit. he wasn’t going to speak, too busy sticking his tongue out to tease my nipple before latching his lips around it. matt sucked so hard i left out a sigh, bringing my fingers to his hair, caressing his brown locks as i whispered how much of a good boy he was, which certainly didn’t help his impatient self. matt squirmed around on his chair, trying to get comfortable and ignore the growing tent inside his pants.
“need help, baby?” i asked, brushing my digits over his boner. matt nodded desperately, not letting go of boobs until i wrapped my knuckles around his covered length, making him gasp from the sudden contact. “what’s got you like that, hm? was it the movie or me?”
“you” he said, hiding his face on the crook of my neck. “always you”.
“such a good boy for me” i praised, receiving a muffled whine in response.  “nuh uh, keep it down. you don’t want them to hear us, do you?” matt denied with his head, jointing his hips forward, silently asking for me to actually jerk him off. i knew it had hit him too. the nostalgia, the excitement, the risk of doing something we shouldn’t. 
matt dragged his lips across my chest as i finally got a grip of his cock, placing my hand inside his pants and slowly pumping his shaft. he placed his tongue on my nipple once again, sucking it at the same pace i would stroke him. with long minutes of a lazy and steady handjob, matt was far gone — he couldn’t care less about the movie, frantically chasing for his orgasm.
i could feel his chest panting as i heard the heavy sighs coming from the back of his throat. matt was trying so hard to stay quiet and yet, he failed, letting out a cracked moan when i brought my thumb to his leaking tip, rubbing his slit as i tightened the grip on his throbbing cock.
“cum” he whispered to me, not opening his eyes. i pretended i didn’t hear it, my eyes glued to the big screen in front of me. “please, wan’ cum” matt spoke again, replacing the lips on my boobs with his hands, massaging my flesh.
he wasn’t getting what he wanted — my attention and permission. “princess, please” he pleaded, now covering my neck in kisses as he mimicked on my nipples the same movements i did on his slit. i savored the moment for a bit, hanging my mouth open as his kisses turned into love bites.
“hold it” i said, loosening my fist. matt whined at the loss of contact, throwing his head back in frustration. “you look so pathetic, baby” i cooed, running my fingers through his hair before cupping his cheeks. he looked so, so fucked out. “such a needy boy, aren’t you?”
“no” he pouted, blue eyes covered in desperation. “i’m good, i promise i’m your good boy!” matt said, moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock.
“you’re gonna have to wait until a really loud scene comes up” i told him. “we don’t want anyone to hear this good boy cumming all over himself hm?” i asked with faux sympathy, feeling his length twitching against my hand. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold much longer.
“boobs” matt practically begged. “i will keep my mouth on them and i won’t make any noises” he said, more to himself than to me.
“yeah? you wanna cum sucking my boobs?” i teased matt, who vigorously nodded while adjusting himself one last time. he spread his legs open, waiting for my cue. “go ahead” i encouraged him and he immediately latched his lips around my nipple again, muffling his needy sounds as i jerked him off, my fingers pumping his swollen length rapidly enough for matt to cum seconds later.
matt’s whines turned to whimpers as he reached his high, releasing the sticky spurt over my hand. i couldn’t see it, but i knew the inside of his pants looked like a mess. he panted heavily as he slowly came back from his orgasm, thighs still trembling after holding it for so long.
i kissed the top of his head as i finally removed my palm from him, raising it near my mouth and licking his cum. “don’t do this to me” he said as he watched me, pulling my sweater down. “i’m gonna get hard again”
“good thing we have the whole movie left” i smirked before sealing our lips together in a passionate, hungry kiss. 
after all these years, we were still the same kids who started dating at the back row of the movie theater.
- ♡ -
taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @mommykinks4matt @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25
i haven’t updated this in a while so if if you want to get in/out let me know! mwah!
- ♡ -
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thelostconsultant · 1 month
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Soft launch vs. hard launch
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
type: smau
summary: Oscar and Logan are very protective of you, so you and Charles have to get through them before making your relationship public.
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liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc and 35,133 others
yourusername: I wanted to start the day at the gym, but someone knows the way to my heart ☕ logansargeant ❤️
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user1: You’re in Belgium? On an F1 race weekend?
↳ user2: Can’t wait for the posts about her shenanigans with Logan. 
oscarpiastri: And where’s my coffee?
↳ logansargeant: Get your own.
↳ oscarpiastri: Good to know I can count on my friend.
↳ yourusername: Stop flirting under my post! It will be flooded with shippers in seconds. 
↳ logansargeant: Shhhh, don’t tell him.
↳ oscarpiastri: Tell me what?
↳ yourusername: Nothing. 
↳ oscarpiastri: I hate you both.
↳ oscarpiastri: And see you at the track.
user3: I love these three. They should do a podcast together during the break. 
user4: I wonder who’s dating who. 
↳ user5: It’s a poly relationship, I’m calling it now. 
↳ yourusername: Wrong. 
↳ user4: Then what’s the truth? The suspense is killing us!!!!
↳ yourusername: 🤷‍♀️
charles_leclerc: Photos I can taste in my mouth...
↳ oscarpiastri: What?
↳ charles_leclerc: Her coffee.
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yourusername: So you wanna know what’s my favorite position? Here, now you know (credit to Debbie Ridpath Ohi)
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logansargeant: Look, there’s Oscar! 😼
↳ oscarpiastri: Haha…
user6: Sometimes I look at her weird posts and I have to remind myself what an amazing fashion model she is beside everything else she does.
user7: You should have taken a photo of yourself doing that. Preferably in a short skirt. 
↳ user8: Dude, gross, fuck off!
↳ logansargeant: Yeah, fuck off.
↳ user9: I love how Logan always shows up to tell assholes off. 
charles_leclerc: Guess the interview didn’t go as planned.
↳ yourusername: Never again. You were right.
↳ oscarpiastri: Wait, what interview?
↳ logansargeant: Hello? Care to answer your phone? 
↳ yourusername: Chill, boys, it’s ok. Already had my rant session with someone. 
↳ charles_leclerc: Anytime.
user10: When did this happen? Can’t remember Charles ever commenting under her posts. 
↳ user11: He has left comments before, but I gotta agree that he’s been suspiciously active lately.
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liked by yourusername, heidiklum and 291,329 others
charles_leclerc: Thank you for having me, verawang, I had a good time. Anyway, what do you think, would this one look good on me?
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user12: Considering how often he interacts with yourusername on social media, I'm not even surprised to see he happened to pick her photo.
logansargeant: You're talking about the clothes, right? Because if you're not talking about the clothes, we will have to talk.
↳ charles_leclerc: Am I in trouble?
↳ oscarpiastri: After writing, "would this one look good on me?" Yeah, you are. Pervert.
↳ charles_leclerc: I'll send you to your room, son.
↳ logansargeant: Pulling the adoption card? Tsk, you can't pull that on me. Confess.
yourusername: *pulls out the popcorn*
↳ logansargeant: Put that down, I sent you a message.
↳ yourusername: No.
↳ user13: LOL, I love that she's only here for the chaos.
user14: Charles, what's going on between the two of you? This is suspicious.
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,754 others
charles_leclerc: Our first kiss captured by the one and only danielricciardo. #tbt
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user15: Soft launch on this average Thursday? Who is she?
user16: HOLY SHIT IS THIS YOURUSERNAME??????
↳ user17: This photo is so dark, how could you possibly tell?
↳ user16: Trust me, I'd recognize her anywhere. (Don't ask how.)
↳ oscarpiastri: I'd like to ask though.
↳ logansargeant: It's definitely concerning.
danielricciardo: You're welcome.
↳ logansargeant: Why are you randomly taking photos of other people making out?
↳ danielricciardo: I have a natural talent to recognize historical moments.
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,932 others
yourusername: Someone came home from the party with a fake beard and fell asleep with it still on his face. No kiss for you until you get rid of it.
tagged: charles_leclerc
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user18: Are you a "soft launch by Charles" son or a "hard launch by Y/N" daughter?
↳ user19: And she hard launched it with this? She's so chaotic, I love her. She could've chosen some sweet photo, but instead she chose this.
user16: I told you all it's her. I knew it!
logansargeant: If you ever want to complain about him, you know where to find me.
↳ oscarpiastri: And me. I'm ready to trash talk my father.
↳ charles_leclerc: Thanks for the vote of confidence.
user20: Not Max liking this. Dude, just follow Charles!
oscarpiastri: Okay, reacting to Charles's photo now that you made this public: Keep it PG!
↳ yourusername: Osc, don't freak out, that's just a kiss.
↳ logansargeant: Yeah, but the rules.
↳ charles_leclerc: That's a photo, it's not happening in front of you.
↳ oscarpiastri: It was on my screen, so now it's burned into my brain.
1K notes · View notes
melzula · 8 months
Note
Could you write a Sokka x firebender reader that has the plot of the secret tunnel episode but instead of aang and katara getting stuck together it’s him and reader? :)
Don’t Let the Cave In Get You Down
a/n: got two requests for this sokka storyline and i was very excited to write it! i couldn’t find a way to seamlessly include the fire bending part of the request but i could definitely build on that in another piece. hope you enjoy <3
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you met the Gaang when they were passing through a small trading village on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom
they were low on supplies and in need of a shopping spree, so they stopped at your little food stand in search of fresh fruit and snacks for their travels
you seemed awfully young to have your own business, especially when compared to the other merchants, but you were kind and your prices were affordable
their shopping spree was cut short by the arrival of fire nation soldiers, but you quickly escorted them through the backstreets of the marketplace and helped them evade the soldiers
“That was a close call,” Aang breathed out in relief, “thanks for your help.”
“Those guys are jerks, I couldn’t live with myself if I had just let them capture you.”
“Who are you?” Katara asked in awe.
“My name is y/n, and I’ve been hiding out in this village for about three years now. I escaped from the Fire Nation when I was 12 and never looked back.”
“Wait a minute, Fire Nation?!” Sokka exclaimed before quickly pushing his sister and Aang behind him. Raising his boomerang in a threatening manor, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is this some kind of trick?! Did you just lure us out here so you could capture Aang and get the reward for yourself?”
“Sokka, you’re being ridiculous!” Katara had scolded angrily, harshly pushing his boomerang away. “She said herself she came here to get away from the Fire Nation, I’m sure she’s just trying to make a better life for herself here and you’re not making that any easier for her by being a jerk!”
“I don’t trust her, Katara!”
You’re a little disheartened by the disdain in his voice when he speaks about you, and despite Katara vouching for you you can see that you’re out of place
“I’m sorry, I’ve made things awkward,” you apologized sheepishly, “I’ll leave you now.”
“Wait!” Aang called, stopping you from going. “If what you said is true then… then I think you should come with us.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” Sokka scoffed in disbelief
“If she’s from the Fire Nation then she must have knowledge about the ins and outs of that place. Maybe she can even help me find a fire bending master. We need her help, Sokka.”
Though he was reluctant and very distrusting of you, Sokka realized Aang was right, so he begrudgingly allowed the airbender to welcome you to their team
You agreed to help as much as you can, and the rest was history
From there on out you’re officially a member of Team Avatar, but that doesn’t mean Sokka becomes any more trusting of you
He always keeps a suspicious eye on you, never letting you help with tasks he deems too important to avoid having you “sabotage” the group
His lack of trust in you hurts, you can’t lie about that, but you continue to do what you can to aid the Avatar and his friends and earn their trust
Of course, this all changes when you get to the cave of two lovers
Unlike Sokka, you found Chong and his group of Nomads to be great fun. They’d braided your hair beautifully with flowers from the lake and performed wonderful songs, so despite your predicament you were in a cheerful mood
Being stuck in the cave had put a strain on your group’s mission to make it to Omashu, but you tried to remain hopeful and help as best as you can
Surprisingly, Sokka even puts you in charge of holding one of the torches
“I’m only giving this to you because I know you’re at least smart enough not to waste resources while we’re in here.”
It’s a start
And it’s a good thing he gave you that torch, because it comes in handy when you both end up getting separated from the rest of the group
“This is just great,” Sokka utters sarcastically after several failed attempts to dig through the rock and get back to the others.
“Come on, Sokka, lighten up. We have a torch and your map, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out,” you try to console. “What did Chong say earlier? ‘Don’t let the cave in get you down, Sokka.’”
He’s not amused by your singing
It’s a bit awkward being stuck with the boy who’s been so adamant that you don’t belong despite your best efforts to prove that you can be trusted
You don’t speak much and try to stay out of his way and follow his lead, but the tunnels keep changing and you keep getting lost and your torch is about to burn out, so things are beginning to seem hopeless
“Maybe we should try changing our strategy,” you offer only for Sokka to immediately dismiss you.
“Right, like I’m going to let you lead us through the cave. You’ll probably make us get lost on purpose.”
“You know, if you stopped being so judgmental for a second you’d probably realize that i want to get out of this cave just as much as you do!” You snap irritably, surprising Sokka. you’ve mostly stayed docile to try and keep the peace whenever Sokka accuses you of being untrustworthy, but at this point you’re finally starting to get fed up
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he says softly, and this time you’re the one who’s surprised. You never thought he’d actually apologize to you, and it’s a nice feeling. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Well,” you start with a sigh, “maybe the story is right. Maybe if we trust in love, we’ll find our way out of here.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
You simply shrug, prompting Sokka to let out a heavy sigh. Your torch is going to run out soon, and his map isn’t doing anyone any favors. It seems you have no choice
“How exactly do we trust in love?”
“I’m not sure… the only love I know is the love I had from my parents, but I haven’t felt it in so long… I’m not sure I ever will again.”
“…What happened to them?”
“My parents were peasants with nothing but love to give each other. They were poor, but they were happy,” you explain with a faint smile. “My father was a fire bender, but he kept his gift hidden in fear he’d be forced to serve in the Fire Nation army. He didn’t want to leave me or my mother, but our home was attacked, and he had no choice but to bend to protect us. Our lives were saved, but he was taken away.”
Sokka hangs on to your every word, eyes glistening with unshed tears and sympathy. Your story is similar to his own, and he knows what it’s like to lose your family to the Fire Nation. He feels less disdain towards you now, more empathetic. He still isn’t 100% sure how to feel about you, but hearing your story makes you easier to understand now
“My mother knew I’d never be safe or happy if I stayed there, so she arranged for me to be smuggled out of the Fire Nation and brought to the trading village you first met me in. I haven’t seen or heard from her since, and I’m not even sure if she or my father are even alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Sokka utters solemnly. “Katara and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation, and we haven’t seen our father since he left to fight in the war. I know how you feel.”
“I don’t want to be Fire Nation, you know. None of this was a choice, and I understand why you don’t trust me but I’m not like them Sokka. Please believe me.”
“I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time. It’s just… it’s hard to believe people from the Fire Nation can actually be good. But you’ve proven that you can be trusted over and over again, I was just too blind to see it.”
“Can we start over?” He asks with a sheepish smile, carefully sticking his hand out for you to shake. Instead, you push his hand away and throw your arms around him in a tight embrace.
The force of your hug knocks him back a bit, and though he’s unsure at first, he eventually returns your embrace by carefully wrapping his arms around your figure
The fire of your torch slowly begins to die, but neither of you seem to notice or care as you enjoy your moment together
You expect to be engulfed in darkness when the flame goes out, but instead you’re met with the beautiful shimmers of the crystals that line the roofs of the cave
“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur in awe, your eyes sparkling under the light
“Yeah,” your counterpart utters quietly, but he isn’t looking at the crystals
“Was she always this pretty?” Sokka wondered to himself
Together, you’re eventually able to follow the crystals and make your way out of the cave
And when you leave the cave, hands woven tightly together, you leave as two completely new people
You understand each other now, you trust each other
And your relationship will only continue to grow stronger from then on out
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303
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bvidzsoo · 10 months
Text
Grease and Oil
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⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳
TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it
Word count: 5,6k
A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!
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            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.
I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.
“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”
Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”
He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.
“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.
“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.
“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”
Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.
“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.
“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.
“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”
Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”
Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.
“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.
“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.
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            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.
“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.
“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.
And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”
“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”
“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.
“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.
“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”
“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”
Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.
“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.
“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”
“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”
I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.
“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.
“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.
“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.
“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.
“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.
“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.
“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.
“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”
Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.
“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.
            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.
“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.
“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”
My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.
“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”
I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.
“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”
But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.
“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.
“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.
“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.
“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”
Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”
His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”
“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”
“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.
“That we should go for a second round—”
“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”
Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”
“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.
“I thought I smelled hot—”
“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”
“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”
“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.
“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.
“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.
“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.
“Goodbye, Mingi.”
“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.
Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?
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princessofangiemania · 2 months
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𝑺𝒖𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚: 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝑺𝑷 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒑𝒂𝒅-𝒆𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚
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First and foremost, I would like to apologise for my inactivity ;w; I've been so focused on school, it was HECTIC and boy do I have a lot of success stories, this being one of them. So start of the school year, I wasn't planning on manifesting a boyfriend. I just wanted good grades, beauty and stuff. Long yapping session ahead!!
I was friends with this guy. Our whole friendship started because I was bored and wanted to play cupid (He liked another girl). So I was talking with him a lot, I was his right-hand woman. But this guy, he's not fond of making first moves but the girl isn't either. Long story short, he got rejected they didn't end up together. Let's call my SP "Coco" for good measure. You thought that was the end of it and we just remained friends? Wrong, I started developing feelings for him and womp womp (I actually thought he was physically attractive when I first saw him but backed off when I saw he liked another girl because I wasn't that attached yet). An even funnier story, we're in a four-person friend group. (2 boys and 2 girls), the other two are a couple. So our friend-group was more like a double date if we did end up together. Since my 18th birthday party was coming up, I had to pick a partner for the cotilion. And I picked him (He was convinced) and I even proposed a solo. So while we were practicing, we had lots of moments and I'm pretty clumsy, you can pretty much imagine that. There came our field trip. And it was mostly water sports. After that, we were all given free time to play in the pool for about two hours. I began carrying people randomly and they started doing the same to me. I actually carried Coco too and of course he carried me too. Around dismissal, I switched places with the other guy in our friend group and sat next to him. Average romance anime cliche moment, I fell asleep on his shoulder. To fast forward through, I confessed to him but he gave me a "You deserve better, I love you as a friend" but not a definite no. The rejection is implied but what does our LOA Barbie girlie do? We persist. That time wasn't the best, I was more than awkward around him but all I thought was, "This is for the plot" over and over again.
Like a Wattpad love story, it started picking up on the day of my 18th birthday, when we sang Photograph. Not relevant? It played our part in 18 Roses (In Philippine culture, it is customary for a girl to dance with 18 bachelors to signify her coming of age). And of course, I just had to experience all the cliche moments like him holding an umbrella over me, carrying my bag, going to get ice cream, walking somewhere and exchanging longing glances when the other wasn't looking and it all came down to a pool party we had when the school year ended. I got drunk (My dumbass thought the punch was orange juice and filled my cup all the way through) and I was just mostly chilling by the jacuzzi because of it. Coco over here, if we weren't hogging the karaoke machine, we were just chilling in the jacuzzi by ourselves (And the annoying pick-me girl of the class occasionally) and when I got too drunk, apparently I asked if I could hug him and for the last 2 hours or so, I was just hugging him. It was weird because Coco would usually join water sports going on in the other pool but he decided to just chill with me.
Before we got together, just like how I would write a wattpad fanfiction, there was the mandatory angst misunderstanding. The confession was really something. Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift was playing in the background and we became an official couple at exactly 12 midnight. Now, we're in a happy and loving relationship! Honestly, I was scared of what he'd be like in a relationship (Cuz I thought he wouldn't give me what I needed, E.G. princess treatment) but since I persisted and said to myself that what I wanted would always be given to me, I'm proud to say I'm dating a guy who practically worships the ground I walk on, not afraid to show his affection and respectful. I could go on and on about how good my relationship is how he treats me so well but I'd save you all the sappy stuff.
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babybinko · 1 year
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Made a TON of Venture Bros. genderbends :D
Bonus + some of my thoughts on all the designs under the cut:
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This is from a conversation I had with a friend about how Dermott and Hank would behave in this AU (its exactly the same as normal)
Ok now some thoughts on my design process
Hank: I think I drew Hank's face actually perfect, I made her so cute. I also feel like there's a common trope with genderbends where athletic characters get short hair so I gave her long hair and gave Dean short hair. I actually think the longer hair fits her perfectly. ALSO I LOVE HER BOOTS.
Dean: I gave goth Dean more Accessories than normal because normal goth dean had no fucking swag (it was besties idea to make her pants ripped). Even before I started drawing college Dean I knew I was giving her those legwarmers you can pry them from my cold dead hands. Same with the legwarmers I knew the first dean design needed a Jean skirt its just the vibes.
Dermott: The millisecond I even thought about doing Dermott I KNEW she would be 2012 grunge girl aesthetic. Gigantic shoplifting energy. Love her.
Rusty: I wanted her to look like a mean mom and I believe I accomplished that goal. Absolutely had to add the glasses strap. Very Jamie Lee Curtis.
Brock: I drew the one with the hair down first and my friends preferred the one with the hair up so I just did both. I wonder if she was a cheerleader in college and killed another girl on her cheer squad by throwing her too far/dropping them.
21: I drew 21 then I realized I had just drawn myself with bangs. Also I drew her with a blunt because there's an episode where 21 has a joint in his mouth the whole episode the other henchmen are standing in stupid poses in the background and its maybe one of my favorite bits in the entire show its so stupid.
24: 24 took several attempts to get the hair right I kept drawing it short and curly and my friend told me to give her Elaine from Seinfeld hair which I think ended up working really well.
Monarch: One of my favorites I did. I feel like this one you can definitely tell how Bayonetta completely re-arranged my brain chemicals as teenager. I love the hip cutouts, I made a tummy cutout to kind of mimic how Dr.GF's monarch costume is kinda skimpy. It's also hard to tell because of the cowl but I tried to give her like a finger waves hairstyle.
Dr.Gf: I tried a bunch of different hats but my friends liked the brimless hat the most and completely doomed him into looking like a Bellhop (more than he already did). Its giving Tyler the Creator at the 2020 Grammys. I still think he's cute though :)
Billy: I really didnt want to just draw her in a suit because thats boring. The show always gives me 60s vibes despite being set in modern day (I'm sure its on purpose) and I definitely channeled that with Billy. It took a couple tries to find a balance between fitting her body but still looking adult but I think I got it in the end.
Pete: YAYYYY PETE YAAAAYY!!! ^_^ Shes so Ava Max Coded. I also gave her giant buckles on her shoes to match his stupid ass one two buckle my shoes ass shoes.
Triana: Very much looks like putting emo boy in the Pinterest search bar. I made her thigh highs into his sleeves and I gave him square bangs like her.
Dr. Orpheus: NEEDED to make her a hot milf and I did. Its a little hard to see but her shirt has lace over the open part. I love the hair Jewerly at the bottom of her braid. :)
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PROVE IT ───
jackson rippner ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “You think you are possessing me / But I've got my teeth in you.” — ‘Unicorn’, Angela Carter
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pairing. jackson rippner x reader
summary. after breaking up with your boyfriend. you meet a handsome stranger at a bar. you tell him your cunt’s better than the girl’s your boyfriend cheated on you with; he tells you to prove it.
warnings. swearing, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, porn with some plot, impact play, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 3.6k
a/n. i seriously doubt i wrote jackson’s character accurately in this so please comment anything i can improve on LOL🙏
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It’s not often you spill your entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this one, this stranger with his watery blue eyes and plush lips, is oddly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It makes you want to give him everything, and absently, in your alcohol riddled mind, you think he’d make a good scammer. 
Or, serial killer, whichever he prefers really.
But it's not entirely his fault; you’re stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit your system ten-fold. 
You’re there because you’d broken up with your boyfriend the night before. You’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and you let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 
Wrong. He’d been cheating on you since he went to Copenhagen — four months, now — with a pretty little Dane that wanted to marry. 
You were furious when he told you, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but you began seeing all the differences between you and the woman he cheated on you with: she, a perfect homemaker, you, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 
“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” the stranger across from you said softly, breaking you out of your nostalgic stupor and back into reality. “‘cause he’s a right asshole. For cheating on you like that.”
The man had entered the bar hours after you did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the softball game on the bar TV, before you drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant your dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here you were now.  
You peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but you can’t tell if you actually think that, or your foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail you into next week. 
No matter, you thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of your throat sweetly, fire trailing down your insides. “M’not beating myself up,” you protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 
He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as are you.
“Well,” he inched closer, large hand sitting itself on your thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 
This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with you: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from your face, later he swiped a drop of drink off your lip, then he’d clutched you by the waist, pulling you close to him when someone squeezed past you in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in your ear. 
Then, there’s a gap in your memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt you donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in your ear was too much for your dizzy head, and the only thing you remember is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and the next, you’re pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee pushing your quivering legs apart. 
You’re trading wet, messy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up your shirt till they reach your chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching your breasts needily. 
He’s kneading you artfully, fingers pawing at your flesh like he’s never felt something so soft, so plump. Your back arches as he does this; you’re practically putty in his hands. 
It doesn’t slip past you that you’re being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom you don’t know the name of, but you don’t care. “Please,” you beg, his name coming up completely blank on your tongue, “please.”
“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, one of his hands moving from your breasts up to your jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to your neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”
You’re too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so you whine instead of answering, your weak fingers carding through his brown locks. 
“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”
His words make your cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes your core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to your problems all night telling you you’re just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got you all hot and bothered. 
“Please,” you beg again, more desperate than before, “I need you.” 
The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 
He had noticed how your legs clenched around his knee, how your breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how your fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 
You bit your lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed you by the waist and turned you to press your face against the wall. 
One of his arms then draped across your shoulders, pinning you down and arching your back, hard, making your ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, and you could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face. 
He can’t be that big, right? It was just your drunk mind, making him feel bigger than you thought through his shorts. Plus, you hadn’t been fucked in over a month — you were probably just not used to it. 
Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something. 
However, these days, you’ve learned that you don't have the best intuition. First, with your boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 
“Oh, fuck,” you cursed, head straining to look at him behind you. Unconsciously, you shyly closed your legs at the sight of him. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between your legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”
The two of you were flush against each other, and you could feel his hard length resting between your legs. Just that, just him between you, already had you trembling in anticipation. 
“Then fuck me already,” you bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, you were thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, you, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when your boyfriend made his routine visit. You were a loyal girl, alright, and your fingers never went as deep as any cock could.
But the moment for you to reveal your worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.” 
Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of your ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on your cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom. 
Your breath caught in your throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and you flushed. Thank god you were pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to your burning face. 
He’d spanked you, and you fucking moaned. 
“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of your panties. 
“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against you, your folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”
He slowly slid in and out against your folds, his cock just barely grazing your clit, and you swore you could have screamed. The way he was teasing you was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous. 
“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing circles on the skin of your hip. 
You let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” you squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked your tight hole. 
“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into you. 
“I came here to…” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground your thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“
Then, the loudest keen you’d ever heard tore out of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into your soaking cunt. 
He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching your knees buckle and your mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on your ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking you like that. 
But the way he insulted, complemented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had you shuddering; never in your life did you think such dirty words could make you so wet. 
You barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout your body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how your walls squeezed around his cock had you barely coherent, your face taut with pleasure. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for you to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into you, and another helpless groan rolled off your tongue. 
“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing you against the wall shifted, now covering your mouth. 
Before you could protest, he slid out, then snapped into you. Immediately, you saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past your lips. 
“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little fuckhole’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast you could barely comprehend the ecstacy you were feeling. 
“Oh my god,” you barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of you relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for your moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into your sweet cunt. 
Then, the both of you heard the bathroom door open, and you froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing you by the waist and planting you on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on your mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from your throat: this new position of you on his lap had his long length pressed right against your cervix.
“Now you really gotta be quiet, honey,” he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. You shut your eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting your mouth. 
“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on your shoulder, laying his head on your back. 
The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips and help you slide up and down on his cock.
Your eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” you said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving  your mouth, but you were completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure you felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on. 
“Shh,” was all you saw him say, as you strained your neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.
Without his hand to muffle your groans, you muffled them yourself, biting down on your tongue. One hand of yours gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep your balance, and your other hand sneakily traveled down to your wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at your clit. 
He noticed this, however, hand gripping at your wrist and pulling you back to pin your arm behind you. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”
You let out a shaky exhale at his words, but you found your cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of your skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did you really get more turned on by what he’d said?
Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside you exited the bathroom entirely, and you belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked you up and pressed you against the wall once more, this time facing him. 
He plunged his big cock into you like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into your hips you swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into you, not even a fucking meteor. 
You, on the other hand, were arching, the pleasure taking your body over completely. Your hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into you. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time. 
Your tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like you were made with his fat length in mind, and it drove you up the fucking wall: the pain in your hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and your orgasm began to spill out from under you. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.
“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Your cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like you were afraid he’d never come back to you. 
You nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of your words. 
He grinned, and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into you. Your toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past your slick folds. 
One of his hands lifted off your hip and trailed across your lower stomach, “Can you feel that, honey? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge. 
Both of you were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and you a feverish mewl. You couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on you from the outside. 
Suddenly, you remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before you dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, under the name Jackson. 
You face grew taut, your orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across your face. “Jackson! Jackson, please,” you moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on your tongue. 
“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged you through your orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. 
It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within your insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout your entire body like you weren’t already being fucked relentlessly. 
“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning into rest his head against your chest. You were weak, sensitively riding out your high, but you knew Jackson wasn’t quite as close. 
His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling your walls against every inch of him. Your head rested beside his own, your eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation. 
Despite your orgasm, your cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both your skirt and his pants. It made you tremble, thinking of you two tiredly exiting the bathroom, disheveled and having to cover the other up. 
At this point, you didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting your mouth, with Jackson’s grunts and groans covering up your whines completely.
“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”
“You do! Jackson does!” You exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of you quicker and more jolted. “Jackson owns this pussy!”
Jackson grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within you. He clenched his jaw, piercing blue eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of your cunt squeezing him for every drop. 
You were so fucking full, and even when Jackson pulled his softening cock out of you — which, was still huge despite its idleness — you felt stuffed to the brim. 
His come dripped down your leg, and he promptly pulled your panties up, patting your worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good honey.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to your neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”
“Told you so.” You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking you to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within your own, clasping tightly. You didn’t really mean round two - though, you wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking you - you actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead you.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through you cheekily, pulling you close to him. 
So, you did go home with him, and in the morning you laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, counting the freckles on his face.
His eyes fluttered open when you shuffled. “Were you watching me?” he said, voice low and sleepy. 
You nodded silently, your hand coming up to pet his skin comfortingly. After a beat passed, you asked the question that was bothering you all morning. “Jackson, you wanted to fuck me first, right?”
He blinked, tense for a moment, before smoothing out his expression. “What?” he opted on saying instead, sounding every bit clueless and entirely convincing.
Not convincing enough for you, however. “Baby, you think I didn’t notice the shots you were calling over and inching toward me? I was drunk, not stupid.”
“Are you saying I took advantage of you?” He said darkly, a side of him otherwise unknown to you ‘till now. 
You raised a judging brow. “No need to be offended. I wanted to see where it was going to go: ‘did the handsome stranger want to fuck me, or did he want to kill me?’.”
He pulled you close to him, his arm snaking around your hips. “So, what are you saying?” he said, pressing a patronizing kiss to your forehead. 
“Hm. Well, I jus’ wanna know if this is a one nightstand.”
“And you don’t care about the - drinks, the “taking advantage” part?”
You let out a laugh. “I was confident, darling; I keep pepper spray and a pocket knife in my purse. Even if you did - which you didn’t - I’d make it out alive.”
Jackson bit his lip, looking up at you. This had meant to be a one night stand, considering the job he had, but you were looking at him so sweetly, so accepting, like you secretly knew what he did for a living and wanted him despite it. 
“Not a one night stand,” he murmured, leaning into your touch. 
You beamed, and, later, when you did find out what he did for a living, you merely cocked your head. Thought about it… outweighed the pros, the cons, (and the fact you were completely right: he was perfect, but also a fucking sociopath), and merely shrugged. 
“Honey, you’ll never do anything to me. Why should I care what you do for a living? Just don’t,” you warned, staring at him like you could and would fucking kill him, “cheat on me.” 
You didn’t have the best intuition. And, as it turned out, a great moral compass, either. 
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letstripdotcom · 7 months
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9:00am- matt sturniolo x fem!reader
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summary: it took a while for you to get used to matt. he was hard to read and could come off as mean. once you got to know him you guys started to become friends. after a long night out matt falls asleep in your bed.
warnings: smut bc you already knowwww
-
“y/n this is matt, matt this is y/n” my best friend nick explains. from what i heard, matt was a pretty cool person and i i was excited to meet him. “hey nice to meet you” i said cheerfully
“hey” he said flatly, giving me a flat smile. he walked off into the kitchen as nick and i got situated on the couch. that was rude. i thought to myself. matt definitely didn’t seem like the person nick had told me about.
after a while, matt had got situated on the couch with us and helped us pick out a movie. once we finally decided on a movie we all liked, we turned of the lights and got comfortable. matt sat on the other end of the couch and i cuddled up next to nick.
after the movie ended we were all hungry. we eventually decided on ihop, since it was the only thing open at this hour of the night. “i’ll drive.” i offered, getting my keys off the hook.
when we got to ihop i found myself trying to make small talk with matt, trying to see the side of him his triplet brothers saw. i eventually gave up on the conversation, feeling it was very one sided. we ate our food in almost pure silence, then left.
“i’m tired so i’m gonna head home. goodnight guys.” i said as we pulled into the driveway. i dropped the boys off and drove home. the whole drive all i could think about was the way matt acted. he definitely wasn’t the sweet guy i heard about.
-
i hung around matt more often, trying to figure him out, but almost seemed impossible. when i would go somewhere with him and his brothers, he would sit quietly and let them do the talking. conversations with him were almost impossible, because he would try to cut them as short as possible
one day i’m particular, you felt like you needed to know more about matt, and why acted the way he did towards you. you thought out what you were gonna say as you sat on the triplets couch.
“hey matt can we talk for a sec?” you whispered, trying to not be a distraction from the movie that was currently playing. “uh- yeah- i- sure” he stuttered, being caught off by your question. you guys got up and went into the kitchen.
you sighed, and decided to just rip off the bandaid. “is there a reason you don’t like me, or…?” you spoke. “what?” he asked. “i don’t know nick just tells me how sweet you are and all so i just get the feeling you don’t like me” he soaked in my words.
“i don’t not like you, it’s just hard” he paused “ you know, meeting new people, it’s hard to- i don’t know” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “sorry” he muttered.
“hey no it’s okay” i said reassuringly. “i didn’t mean to come at you like that. i guess i was just upset.” he smiled at me softly. “you’re cool, y/n and i would like to be your friend.” “yeah of course” i said semi-cheerfully. we went back to the couch and continued the movie.
-
after that day me and matt became much closer. we talked more often and we found out we actually had a lot in common. we both liked to read and write. we had the same music taste, and we disliked the same people.
one night, me and the triplets sat out by my pool and just talked. hours passed as we changed subjects, talking about life, friends, dreams, and anything you could imagine. “ok ladies i’m going to bed.” nick announced.
shortly after, chris got up too. “i actually have somewhere to be, so see you never” neither of us questioned where he might be going at three in the morning, and we continued our conversation.
“hey i’m hungry, wanna hit up ihop?” matt asked. “i’m so glad you said something because i’m starving.” we got in matt’s car and made the drive towards the restaurant. the whole way there was a blast. we blared music through the speakers and laughed about whatever.
we sat in the empty ihop for about an hour, laughing at the dumbest things before we decided the employees were tired of us. we went out to matt’s car and talked for another hour and a half in the ihop parking lot. we eventually got tired and drove back to mine.
we went up to my room, walking quietly past where nick was sleeping in the living room. “wow chris has been gone for a while” i pointed out. “yeah” matt sighed. we talked some more, the time now almost 6 in the morning. i looked at my phone then i looked over at matt who was passed out in my bed. i didn’t bother to move him so i just closed my eyes and went to bed.
at about 7 in the morning i woke up to feel matt’s arms snaked around my waist. i felt a strong sense of comfort like this, but his breathing on my neck made me slightly nervous.
without knowing i fell back asleep, and woke up at around 9, matt’s arms still around me. this time something was a little strange. i adjusted my position slightly, making me feel matt’s hard on. fuck. i sighed trying to go back to sleep and ignore it, but i could tell matt started to wake up.
“you okay matt?” i muttered, half asleep. he groaned and started to grind his hips into my ass, turning me on a little. “fuck y/n please” he whined. “please what?” i teased.
“m’ so hard” he whined “i need you” he placed his hands on my hips and grinded into me harder. “fuckkk feels so good” he whined. even tho i could probably get off to the sounds he was making alone, i decided to do something more.
i turned over, and pulled away, making him whine at the loss of contact. he looked at me with desperate eyes. “do you trust me?” i asked. “mhmm” he nodded frantically.
i threw one leg over him to where i was sitting on his lap. i pulled down his pants and boxers, just enough to release his dick. i took it in my hand and gave it a good squeeze, making him moan. i pumped it up and down a few times.
i then stood up and discarded of the clothes on my bottom half. i sat back down to the position i was in before. i rubbed him up and down my folds. he whined desperately under me. “let me fuck you” he pleaded.
“okay” i said, turning over as we switched positions. he was now on top as i lied under him. he placed sloppy kisses on my collar bone and chest.
he reached down and his thumb came in contact with my clit. he rubbed to slowly in circles. i moaned and threw my head back into the bed. he hit the sweet spot, making me squirm. when he noticed my actions, he rubbed that spot repeatedly til i came.
“fuck so pretty” he sighed, removing my shirt and bra. “ i wanna see all of you when i’m fucking you” he smirked.
without warning, he started to push into me. he gave me time to adjust before ramming into me forcefuly “fuck mattt, someone’s needy” i joked. he didn’t reply and just continued fucking into me.
he got so deep at one point that you can see it poking my stomach. “fuck matt just like that” i yelled, disregarding everyone sleeping downstairs. i gripped his back with my nails, slightly drawing blood.
“fuckkk- feels s-so good. i can feel you clenching pretty girl” he groaned “taking me so well.” i could hear his words forever. he looked down seeing my fucked out expression. “you doing okay baby?” i tried to come up words to answer his question. “mhmmm” is all i could say. he smiled at me and tucked a loose hair behind my hair.
he thrusted a few more times before i reached my orgasm. i breathed heavily, and raked my nails dow on his back, leaving bloody scratches all the way down. “cumming matt f-fuck” i managed to say as i came.
his orgasm wasn’t far behind. his thrusts started to become more sloppy. he whined and his face twisted as he came inside of me. he pulled out, the both of us breathing heavy. “good morning” he smiled. i rolled my eyes and laughed. “sorry bout your back”
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a/n- the end sucks but i liked the majority of it😍
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kanmom51 · 6 days
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Jikook - Are you sure?!
My take is that they pretty much are!!
I've been mulling over this for a few days now.
Do I write this? How do I approach the subject and how do I even put this onto paper (figuratively)?
I touched on this a little in previous posts, including in my last one about choices. Clear cut choices the two of them made regarding enlistment, the show and how they wanted to spend the little spare time they had before their restrictive 18 months military service.
But this post here is specifically about the show.
Even before the show came out I was thinking about the subject and discussing this with friends. Why do the show? Is there something they are wanting to tell us and if so what is it they are trying to tell us?
The first question was an obvious to me even before the show came out, before we heard their discussion in the car on the way to CT.
It was a way to spend time together in the guise of work (once again, a choice they made so that they can spend much needed quality time together within the constricts of their schedules and upcoming enlistment - and that car discussion sure did show us just how much this was a need for the two of them).
Being such a short time before enlistment, both with separate super busy solo schedules, this here was their way of getting to travel together, including out of the country (for which they needed it to be for work to allow said travel at this point prior to enlistment), spend quality time together, creating those new memories to carry with them into the military, all while under the protection of "work".
It's not that they hadn't spent time together. We talked about this already. This was about it not being enough. Not enough quality time. Not enough memory making time before this life changing event they are going to go through.
We have to remember that when this was initially thought about, the idea of the show, them enlisting together was not a done deal. Can you just imagine that? Them knowing that time is running out and they have to enlist but might have to part ways for 18 months? If so many of us were so stressed out about the idea, what do you think it felt like for them?
There was so much going on behind the scenes, which we were unaware of, it's actually quite comical knowing what we know today and looking back at the discourse surrounding those two - the stories of heartbreaking breakups or just plain indifference to each other - all because people just cannot come to terms with the fact that not all their lives are out on display for us (kind of blows to pieces the whole Jikook are for fanservice narrative, if you ask me), that these two can and do spend time together when only they can, behind closed doors, just enjoying each other's company doing whatever. That there are powers at play (many reasons why they were toned down in public and content in 2023), that there are things they might need to be doing in order to reach an end goal that suits them, playing a long game. And the one sentence I have on repeat since I started here on Tumblr:
Not seeing them most definitely does not mean they aren't there.
And boy did they prove that one to us during AYS. Time after time. They get together. They see each other. They spend time with each other. They share things with each other. And huge surprise (NOT): they do it off camera!!! Without us knowing. Without reporting back to us. WOW!!!
As usual, off track meet Kanmom...
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Back to the show.
So, talk about doing this came before they knew for sure that they would be enlisting together. It came months before. Way before July 2023. Toying with the idea, turning it into a plan of sorts and then it took planning and booking and getting permits for filming, including using drones for filming.
This might partially explain why the first trip happened in July and not earlier, although they both did have busy schedules pretty much from April 2023 onward and the trip happened when JM finished recording Muse).
And what about the destinations? Why these three?
Connecticut - I think this one was more of a chance decision, as in it was suggested to them seeing that timewise this was the only time they had available for that first much much needed trip. JK was already scheduled to be in the USA, they had Hybe America to rely on as far as finding locations, places to stay, activities to do and places to eat. And I do think that doing this, the unknown location in a country where they don't speak the language fluently was actually something of a thrill to them as well (going to a location where the chances of them being recognized as JM and JK of BTS were kind of low). But mainly, I do believe this was more of a "we need this trip and we need it now, so we will go wherever, just make it happen" kind of situation. This was "the much needed trip".
Jeju - Jeju is a safe place for them. A place they both love and have visited multiple times separately and together (the last time prior to this trip was only weeks before). Even without Tae, this would have been a lighthearted, activity filled fun trip. Tae being there highlighted them, their intimacy, their connection with each other. And it probably did tame down some of their naughtiness, although we did get to see plenty of that as well. This was "the fun trip".
Sapporo - Japan as a whole is a destination they love. I mean, and JK said that himself, Tokyo is where they took their first alone trip together, they loved Tokyo, and the memories from that trip are dear to their heart to this day. They got to do Tokyo together again. Not together all the time, probably not as much as they wanted to either, but still managed to spend some time together in Tokyo before moving on to Sapporo where they filmed the show. A trip to Japan, Tokyo, and Sapporo as well is a sentimental one. Places they have been, places where good memories were made (as part of BTS and as a couple), places where they will make more good memories that they will carry with them to the military. This is "the emotional/ sentimental trip", or "the nostalgic trip".
And you can see the difference in their behavior between the three trips. Each and every one of those trips meant so much to them but each in a different way. And when you look back at the three as a whole they needed all three.
The perfect trifecta.
The idea was spending time together, making it a work thing allowed for the travel abroad, but it also carved it into a work schedule. Which means, unlike regular time off that can be moved and cancelled, doing this set their plans in stone, in a way, ensuring that these trips actually happened.
This was also a huge opportunity for JM and JK to create content for Army for when they were away. A choice to showcase themselves, their "chemistry", a word used a lot to describe the show. This, on the one hand, was great for JM, who obviously does not want to be visible during his service (and JK is kind of the same, especially when he has JM by his side), and on the other hand created content for Hybe to release while they were away. And having it on Disney, creating merch and a photobook (and maybe there is more stuff to come) is more income for the company while they are away, so win win (that explains Hybe agreeing to this in the first place).
All those are obvious, clear reasons as to why this show came into fruition.
But I do think there is more.
And before I move on to that, I want to remind us all, once again and with feeling, that all 3 destinations were supposed to be Jikook and Jikook only. Jeju was not meant to be a maknae destination. Tae was not invited, and I mean no malice in that. It's just me stating the truth. They let him know that multiple times during the trip. And him being there, in a sense, just highlighted how different they are with each other than either of them or both of them with Tae.
So, they wanted to do a show, just the two of them, visiting different destinations, enjoying different activities, good food and just being (the whole them just being was more evident in CT and Sapporo because of it only being the two of them, although we certainly did get some Jikook BEING moments from Jeju as well).
I get wanting to spend the time together, carve out new memories to carry with them into enlistment, but why show it to us, why the way it was done? Hours and hours of Jikook content, some of just the two basically doing nothing, or nothing much? It's not about sightseeing (not really), it's not about the activities, not really, it's not even about the food (gasp).
This is not about the travel, it's about them!!!
It's about them doing their thing, and us just enjoying sitting for hours on end, watching them do their thing and SEEING them.
Not the places they go, not the things they do, not even the food they eat. It's seeing them do those things, eat those things, be together - them just BE.
And it's about them wanting to give that to us. They want us to see THEM. See what they are together, what they are to each other.
JK and JM know that there are parts of the fandom that have a visceral reaction to them, as Jikook (together and apart - a lot of said hate stems from what and who they are together) . We know that JK monitors SM. Maybe not down to the ugliest, but they know. And still they want to show themselves, because this is who they are and they want to be able to be themselves as freely as possible (depending on just how far they want to be going).
They can't come out and tell us, not yet, maybe not ever. It is what it is, sadly.
But they do want to cement this within the fandom:
JM and JK together can be over the top in every sense. PERIOD.
And when I say over the top I mean as sus as shit...
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JM and JK love each other dearly. PERIOD.
JM and JK are inseparable. PERIOD.
JM and JK are close as can be. PERIOD.
JM and JK enjoy spending time with each other. PERIOD.
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JM and JK CHOOSE to spend time with each other when they can (the whole Jeju change of plans makes it even clearer) - PERIOD.
JM and JK NEED to spend time with each other. PERIOD.
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JM and JK are playful together, as much as they are serious together - PERIOD.
JM and JK care for each other and take care of each other (well they try to as much as the other allows it). PERIOD.
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JM and JK enjoy to do the exciting and the mundane together. PERIOD.
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*I do believe that JK climbing is just as exciting as rock climbing. And they enjoyed both...
JM and JK know each other intimately - PERIOD.
JM and JK find safety, peace and comfort in each other - PERIOD.
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JM and JK do not act like a typical "we are not in a relationship" hyung and donsaeng act - PERIOD.
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JM and JK do things bros just do not do with or to each other - PERIOD.
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JM and JK share their work with each other - PERIOD.
JM and JK are the embodiment of You are me I am you - PERIOD.
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Jikook can most definitley be seen as a unit. PERIOD.
*Something that has been shied away from for too damn long.
Add to all of that those the things you just can't put into words. But they are there. They are undeniable. That chemistry, that love, that need, that je ne sais quoi, that engulfs everything else and makes it all feel like so much MORE!!!
More palpable, more intense, just MORE.
Remember my whole rubber band theory starting way back in 2021, how I think Hybe and Jikook were stretching the boundaries seeing just how far it can be stretched without breaking?
Ear suck stretch, pas de deux stretch, Christmas couples cheer stretch, hickey stretch (these are all moments that were either shown by the company in official content - like memories - or part of officially filmed content - like filmed performances)... and then came 2022 followed by 2023, with the company taking 20 steps back, but that's for another day (if ever).
This here, my friends, is the ultimate rubber band stretch. Hours and hours of content to show us that every single one of those Jikook instances that came before were not a one of. Not forced. Not singular and far apart. That what we have seen of them is NOTHING compared to what they are, because this is them all the damn time. Cameras on cameras off (dare I say that when cameras are off it's way worse?). Together with the others, or by themselves. No more "it might be out of context". We get the context, most of it, and still we get THEM. And that rubber band, it still hasn't snapped, cause there are still those that do not see it, lol. But, I think it's safe to say that many do and those that don't, well, many of them cannot deny anymore just how close they are. Even though "brothers" or "besties" still comes up a lot.
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It's funny how things that were obvious to many of us needed to be reinforced by JM and JK in this show. It always baffled me the way a big chunk of this fandom steered away from Jikook, like touching on the subject was a taboo. Like Jikookers were insane, delusional (we are used to be called that). Not only steering away from a romantic involvement, but also that, god forbid, they are the closest within the group of 7. That didn't sit right with many. Ruined their Vmin soulmates dreams, or TKK best mates or whatever (do we raise the subject once again why the clearly closest duo in the group were kind of put aside, not acknowledged as such not only by the fandom but by the company as well?). OR, and I feel like this one is the winner, admitting as to how close those two were, with their clear super suspicious behaviour, would have them have to admit that there was something more going on between them. Homophobia or over wokeness, either way these people were ignoring what the two were signaling to us for years now. And now, well now, we are in chapter 2, or perhaps just before chapter 3. All of them after service. We know from RM how he's bursting at the seams to tell us things he feels he can't say just yet (and couldn't prior to enlistment), I do believe this is going to be something we will be seeing from all of them. They are mature men now, they have fulfilled their duty to their country, they are BTS, talented successful, rich artists. They have signed new contracts after long negotiations. They will have more freedom. And they will be showing us more. Things they couldn't before. And this show, imo, is one of those steps forward.
Let the world see JM and JK as they are. There will be those that SEE them. There will be those that acknowledge their closeness. There will always be those that continue to deny or hate them because they SEE them. But at the end of the day, this here is a step forward for them to be able to live their lives openly, be who they are to each other and with each other, not have to hide or tone back too much (there will always be toning back because you can't be too open on camera and because at this point they are kind of used to it). They don't have to 'come out' officially loudly (if they do not choose to). As long as they can continue to BE the way they want to and live their lives freely the way they want to. It's always been their choice, but this here allows them more freedom within that glass closet if they choose not to break through it. They will be who they are, live their lives freely as they will, leaving others to think as they want, neither denying nor confirming anything.
Let's be clear here though. This too is a choice. A brave one as such. Because no matter what they decide to do, if it is to leave things as they are, or if they decide post military service to 'come out' as a couple (and there could be reasons for them to make that choice), this show here is as loud as @&#%.
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And proud as $@&%
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*And for clarification sake, just incase, none of the above is me voicing my opinion about if or should they 'come out' or not after being discharged from the military.
I can't believe AYS is coming to an end. Last episode tomorrow. I know we still have the behinds and we still have the photobook coming, but I sure am feeling the "the show has come to an end" blues. This here, what we got with this show I don't know if we will ever get another chance at. Them letting us in as much as they did. I do hope they know just how much we appreciate them allowing us to see THEM and how very much they are loved!!!
196 notes · View notes
carakook · 7 months
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Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.
╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗
“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”
🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.
Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.
Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader
Word count: 7.5k+
Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!
⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.
A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
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.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.
See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.
You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.
Boy, you were wrong.
Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.
Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.
Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.
You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.
The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.
If only he wasn’t such a dick.
Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.
It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.
Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.
“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”
He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.
“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”
And that’s when all hell broke loose.
You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.
Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.
He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.
“Studio. Now.”
He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.
“You’re not my fucking boss.”
He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.
“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”
You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.
You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.
“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”
No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.
“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”
You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.
But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.
You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.
He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.
He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.
You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.
But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.
“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”
Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.
He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.
But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.
He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.
You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.
“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.
He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.
“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”
Fuck him.
“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”
He laughs. He laughs at you.
Fuck him.
“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”
“No, I-“
You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.
“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”
“Maybe if you-“
You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.
“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”
“Because-“
Again.
Fuck him.
“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”
“Me? No, you-“
Again.
And he’s had enough.
“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“
He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.
You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.
That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.
His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.
The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.
And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.
He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.
And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.
He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.
“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”
You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.
“I-“
“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”
Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.
“Then why-“
“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”
You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.
You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.
You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.
He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.
He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.
“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”
You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.
“Fuck you.”
He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.
“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”
You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.
But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.
He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.
He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.
“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”
You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.
“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”
“Please, just… do it then.”
Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.
He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.
Fuck him.
“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”
You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.
He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.
“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”
You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.
“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.
He tilts his head at you, amused.
“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”
“There are no other men.”
He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.
He is too intense. Never met a man like him.
“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.
“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.
“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”
He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.
“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”
You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.
He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.
“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”
Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.
Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.
What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.
He loses it completely.
“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.
You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.
His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.
Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.
His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.
He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”
You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.
He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”
He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.
Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.
Oh fuck.
He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”
You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.
He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”
Fuck him.
He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.
Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.
He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.
He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.
He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”
If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.
But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.
You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.
You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.
When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.
“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”
Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.
That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.
You can take it.
He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”
Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”
He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…
He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.
He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.
He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.
But none of that matters now, does it?
He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.
His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”
You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.
He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.
He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.
Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.
But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”
His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.
You want him to do something? Oh, he will.
He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”
You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.
Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.
You liked that shirt. Fuck him.
“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”
Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.
But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?
You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.
Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.
He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”
One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.
He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.
Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.
“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.
Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.
One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.
You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?
He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”
You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.
You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.
You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.
You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.
The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.
You’re not complaining though, fuck no.
His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.
Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.
It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.
He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.
“Fuck. Go faster, please.”
Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”
He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.
You asked for this.
How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.
“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”
All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.
Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.
He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”
Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.
The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.
You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.
It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.
His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.
He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.
“Need more?” He pants out.
You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.
The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.
Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.
God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.
You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.
He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”
And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.
Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.
This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.
It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.
The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?
At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.
He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.
It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.
Definitely shouldn’t have happened.
He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.
But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.
You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.
Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.
But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.
“You good?”
He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.
Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.
“I’m fucking great.”
That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.
He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.
His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.
He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.
“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.
Ugh.
He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.
You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.
He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”
At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”
And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.
Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.
But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.
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artyandink · 4 months
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Five-Star
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Summary: You’ve been dating Dean Winchester, which is nothing short of a fever dream. A brilliant fever dream. But when you decide to test him on how much he wants you, you don’t get the answer you expected to have.
A/N - Welcome to the Karak Chaii-verse! I had an idea to write Dean with an Indian POC, since I’m one myself. Creds to @zepskies and her brilliant Midnight Espresso-verse, and you should definitely check that out. This is a small drabble that I thought up.
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Your family had moved to the US around a year after you were born. That’s because the monsters in India were far more dangerous than in America due to the origination of them from the depths of Indian mythology, such as a rakshasa or arunasura, but you found that here was far more escalated.
At least, you’d found out when you met the Winchesters.
You came from a long line of crazy good Indian hunters, so you were already a great one yourself. Back in India, your parents would pose as part of the CBI, but you had to resort to finding someone who could make you a believable FBI badge once you turned eighteen and got into hunting solo, which was around 1997. There you met Bobby Singer, who hooked you up with what he called the ‘All-American Hunting Kit’, which consisted of an array of fake IDs and a lore book. You were glad your training, done by your dad, was done by the intensity of monsters in India rather than here, otherwise it’d be harder to get by.
On a hunt for a vampire and wraith hybrid in Grant Pass, Oregon, you came across the Winchesters, the shorter of the two having dubbed the hybrid ‘Jefferson Starships’. That man was Dean, and you were taken by his charming, goofy attitude that switched to an attractive sort of intensity when faced with imminent danger. You just didn’t expect ‘imminent danger’ to be the mother of all monsters.
Once your parents had found out that you were hanging out with the Winchesters, who were at the centre of any and all supernatural trouble in America, they sent you a thousand calls telling you to get your ass out of there before you got killed. You being you, you didn’t listen. Not when you knew that you’d get withdrawal symptoms from not seeing the million dollar smile of Dean Winchester, which quickly won you over (and his lips too, which knew damn well what they were doing).
As for Sam, you quickly saw him as your little brother figure, who also helped you manage your unruly hair by recommending the right hair products that you now had stocked up. You’d both nerd over monsters, you’d tell him about all the ones you’d encountered in India while Sam told you stories about all that he and his brother had gone through.
Which was no less than a lot. And you thought India was a harder place to live, by what your parents told you. Here there’s the friggin’ Apocalypse.
Dean was obviously your favourite Winchester. He’d told you he really liked you about two years and a half after you met amid averting eyes and stammered words as he spewed compliment after compliment, standing there in the Bunker’s kitchen like a nervous melon in his grey robe, black shorts with hot dogs on them and black undershirt with fuzzy hair.
You’d cut his nervous ramblings off by pulling him in by the lapel of his robe, lips puckered in surprise as they met yours as the tangy taste of cherry and sweet, buttery pie crust flooded your taste buds and even more so when Dean quickly took control of the kiss, hands tangling in your hair and grabbing at soft curves like his life depended on it.
One thing Dean loved about you was your cooking. Your mom had taught you a wide array of Indian dishes that you could cook, and the moment the first bite of your rajma and rice graced Dean’s mouth, it was hook, line and sinker. You’d taught him how to eat chole bhature, roti and sabzi and which masala was which so he could know what the hell did you put to make him fall for you over and over again.
You were scrolling on your YouTube shorts one day when you came across a video of a woman asking her husband what his favourite snack was to see if he’d say her or not. You didn’t look like the definition of a snack right now, with your unwashed hair tied up in a bun that your mom taught you to do with no hair tie whatsoever in grey sweatpants, Dean’s undershirt and fuzzy mismatched socks, but you decided to try it out anyway as Dean came into the bunker’s living room, approaching you from behind with a delicate yet possessive cup of your chin and a kiss to your temple.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted in that low voice of his that was effortlessly seductive even when he wasn’t trying, his hand sliding down to comfortingly rub over your chest and shoulder as he passed by. “Doin’ ok?” He sat down beside you, arm around your shoulder as his fingers began to play with your hair, warm green eyes trained on you.
You nodded, setting your phone aside. “Doing alright, yeah.” Then you decided to try out the question. “Dil, what’s your favourite snack?” You called Dean dil sometimes because it meant heart in Hindi, and he had yours.
The question got a chuckle out of him as he jerked his head to the right in amusement. “Awh, sweet girl, that’s hardly fair. I’d say beef jerky, but that new thing you, uh, introduced me to really raised the bar.” His brow furrowed in thought for a moment in contrast to the large grin on his face. “The aloo whatzitsname.”
“Aloo lachha.” You corrected with a giggle, barely holding back the urge to say what the answer was.
“Yeah, that. Or, uh, pie, but that’s a dessert and not a snack. Maybe that rajma stuff, but that’s a meal.” He continued rambling on any and all snacks he’d added to his palette since meeting you, until a bout of laughter from you slowed his roll. “What? What’s so funny, huh?”
“So… your favourite snack isn’t me.” You teased with a smirk, which got the cogs in his head turning. “You failed, sorry, honey.”
The words got a raise of his eyebrow and a slow and subtle roving of his eyes down your body and a bite of his lip. To him, you looked absolutely delicious. Like the best thing at a five star restaurant.
He stood up with a low grunt, facing you before grabbing you by your hips, hoisting you up so fast that you had to wrap your sweatpant-clad legs around his waist with a small shriek. “See, baby, that’s where you’re wrong.”
He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that bordered on reverence and somehow the intention to devour at the same time, which had you moaning already. His tongue slipped into your mouth, briefly getting a taste and giving you the distinct flavour of the aloo chaat you had made for lunch mixed with beer before he pulled back and nipped your bottom lip, groaning at the feeling of your fingers now tugging at his hair.
“You…” Dean paused for a breath and a low chuckle, staring at you hungrily. “You are the whole damn buffet.”
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TAGLIST:
@k-slla @hobby27 @supernatural-jackles
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