#Masseto | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mambalae-s · 2 years ago

Text

sugar — geto suguru x reader

wc: 4.3k

cw: ceo! geto x employee! reader; unprotected sex; office sex; semi public sex; reader is described as a black woman; she’s not explicitly called chubby but she is described as plump; creampies; oral (reader) receiving; one instance of spitting; one instance of choking; mating press; a sir kink you dont have to squint too hard to find; not at all proof read; if i’m missing anything, please let me know!

notes from author: yeah, this went an entirely different direction than what i had planned… this is an nsfw post — if you’re under 18, PLEASE do not interact with this post. i will block you.

suguru’s certain you have no idea the kind of effect you have on him. he’s so entirely convinced that you’re oblivious to his struggle to merely contain himself with you sitting across his mahogany desk, dark stockings hugging your plump thighs and that short, a-lined skirt just barely sitting over your lap. you wear your hair like a regalia, beautiful, thinly done tresses of black braids half-tied at the back of your head where the rest flowed down each side of your body, the ends of them elegantly curling while you’d left two braids to frame both sides of your face — a style called french braids, he’d learned when he’d asked you curiously.

his mind is so far gone from words of acquisitions and business meetings that you read from your prepared document, eyes zoned in on your plump, full lips that glisten on strawberry flavoured gloss. he’s so distracted by the ‘o’s formed on your sweet voice, every sentence sinking themselves beneath his skin like drops of honey that rush through his veins and churns within his blood like a drug. he leans back into his chair, throwing his head back in unhidden frustration and releases a groan, and the sound of it snaps your attention from black printed words to look up at your ceo.

“sir?” you call him, hesitant. you cock your head to the side worriedly. “i’m sorry, is it not how you want to proceed?”

suguru shakes his head weakly, brushing his thumb over his lips. “no, no,” he assures you, “that’s not it at all. you’ve done great, in fact. it’s perfect.” he sees the way your brows furrow over your dark coloured eyes, the way your lips part on words you don’t let out, and suddenly, he feels too hot. “i’m sorry, ms. (l/n). it’s just especially hard for me to focus right now.”

“oh, i understand.” you utter, shifting to sit a little straighter in your chair. the action causes your breasts to shift beneath your low-cut blouse as you close your manilla folder. and suguru, he has to remind himself to breathe. “well, we do have some time before the board meeting if you’d rather we look over the details some other time?”

suguru hums in agreement as he stands, forcing his eyes off you and walking over to the left wall where he keeps a fine array of wines and expensive liquor. “yes, let’s do that then.” his hands reach for a bottle he knows you enjoy most out of his collection, an itallian imported masseto merlot. he reaches for two wine glasses and turns to you, offering you one to take. “how about we enjoy a drink for now?”

you rise from your seat to stand next to him, taking the cup from his hands. he wonders if you’d felt your fingers brush against his, if you’d perhaps done it intentionally to tease him. ah, but he knows you better than that — even now as you hold your cup out for him to fill, he knows that you’re far too shy to ever think of trying anything with him, your boss. you’re always the respectful and diligent worker, always and ever doing your best to meet his expectations and go beyond. he’d be lying if he tried to say he didn’t look forward to seeing you every day, or that he dreamt of doing unspeakable things to you right here inside his office. even standing this close to him, suguru feels his pants tighten at the uninhibited view he has of your plump figure, your breasts tempting him as he loses himself on your sweet scent of fresh linen and honey oats.

“is there something on your mind, sir?” unaware of the thoughts clouding his mind, you innocently flutter your eyes to peer up at him with your glossy lips pursed atop your glass. he watches you take a sip of the dark red liquid and thinks about it wetting your mouth, imagines the satisfied sigh as something far dirtier, unprofessional, and how you would sound with your legs folded against your chest. he imagines all the ways you’d cry out for him, to beg him for more until he turned you into a whiney mess.

“it’s just…” again, he clears his throat. he reaches one hand up to loosen his tie, showing off the expensive watch on his left wrist. “been a long week, that’s all.”

your lips form a sympathetic pout as you lower your glass to your chest, your forearms unconsciously squeezing your breasts together and, have mercy— how can you make the dirtiest things look so innocent? “i’m sorry, mr. geto,” you offer, “i’ll certainly try harder to make things a little easier for you… is there anything i can do for you?”

“oh, no, miss (l/n), you’ve already been such a great help to me—” he stops himself midway, his dark eyes turning thoughtful as he considers. the idea that pops into his head is an awful one, he gives himself second enough to consider. but, what is he supposed to do when you stand so close to him, eyes innocently looking up at him, your very breath hanging onto his words? here you are right in front of him, so open and willing to help him, and perhaps— no, not just. suguru’s certain you don’t mean your words in the way that he thinks, but the very sight of you, the thoughts he has of you late at night and even now, it overwhelms him and tells him to cast aside all logic and give in to viscous wanting.

suguru quietly draws a breath, sets his glass down atop his desk and bites the bullet.

“well… there is something you could do for me.” one, two, it only takes him three short steps until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough for the smell of your sweet, honey-scented oils to fully wrap around him and fill up his lungs. his figure basically shadows your much smaller frame, towering over you as your eyes nervously met his. he focuses on the way your brown lips hang open slightly, on the way your pretty eyebrows furrow over your expression. he focuses on the deep breaths you take that cause your chest to rise and swell, lets himself go on the slight squeak in your voice when you hesitantly call him.

“sir…?”

“what if, ms. (l/n),” suguru hums, reaching his hand to your own glass of wine, intentional when his fingers cover yours. “i told you that you’re what’s been distracting me all along?” like a hawk, he observes every flicker of thought that crosses your dark brown eyes. first, he watches them widen on surprise, then they waver back and forth before lowering to where he held your hand, the deep red colour of your merlot surely not what holds your attention. you’re flustered, he knows it by the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, but he’s not kind enough to let you hide that beautiful expression from him. slowly, as if not to scare you, he takes his fingers and holds on to your chin, tilting your head to where you had no choice but to meet his stare.

“i— i’m,” you pause, your lips trembling so deliciously, your breath ghosting against his skin like an autumn’s gentle breeze. “i’m not sure what you mean… mr, geto…”

“you aren’t?” suguru lowers his voice to a whisper. he imagines he could hear your heart thumping inside your chest, that he could feel your pulse racing underneath your skin, and he wants more of it, wants more of you. “let me show you exactly what i mean then, ms. (l/n).”

he tells himself to be gentle as he leans in, tilting your head up so that his lips meet yours finally, finally— and suguru nearly loses himself to the sensation of being swept off his feet. gods, you’re even sweeter than you’ve ever tasted inside his dreams, the living flesh and bone version of you kissing him back so softly as if you’d walked right out of his fantasies and come to find him at daylight. he can sense the hesitance behind your lips, an uncertainty weak to your own desires as you lean further into him. your hands reach for his chest and you pull away with a breathlessness, gasping as you look up at him, showing to him your worries, your fear, your mutual want.

“mr. geto, we shouldn’t do something like this here,” you whisper as if afraid your words would be heard by someone passing by. though suguru could tell that, if he pushed, you wouldn’t be able to resist. your fingers feebly grasp at his arms, bunching up the white fabric covering his biceps and, oh— you pull him closer, yet not close enough to close the gap. he looks at you and sees it then, in the way your lips pout up at him, that—

“you want this too, don’t you?”

he touches a hand to your cheek and feels heat radiating from you in waves. pulling you closer, he brings that hand to cup the back of your neck and revel in the feel of you being so close to him, your chest so soft against his as his other hand falls to squeeze your hip. gently, he tilts your head to one side to expose your neck and he lets himself be greedy, leaning to drag his nose against your bare skin, lips just slightly parted so that you could feel his warm breath ghosting against your cheek.

your knees nearly buckle beneath your weight and you have to squeeze on to his biceps even tighter, for fear that you would collapse if you don’t hold on tight. “y-yes…” you quietly gasp once he finally presses his lips to your skin. the feeling of him harshly sucking your neck is enough to cause your head to spin, for your legs to clench together at the new heat that pools in your panties. you feel him begin to press forward, and as you step back, he chases you, pushing you until the back of your thighs hit his desk. the sensation of cold wood is stark against the waves of searing heat that pours from the both of you and you stumble for a moment, accidentally knocking his pristine ceo plaque to the red carpet below.

“then,” suguru’s voice sounds slurred. his words are heavy and he sees the way they weigh you down as his fingers skillfully pull the first buttons of your blouse. he takes in the picture of you with reverence and worship as greed swirls within his gut, tightens his pants and makes him forget anything that didn’t have to do with you. with one hand, he pushes you further until you’re sitting on top of his desk and leans in once more, ever more wanting to feel your lips on his. “don’t think about anything else right now. just focus on me, yeah?”

dazed, it’s all you can do to nod ‘yes’ as he slots himself between your open legs, his hands squeezing down on your hips and pulling you forward until his bulge presses right up against your core.

it’s hard hold himself back any further, and suguru abandons his inhibitions as he hungrily slots his mouth against yours, the kiss almost universes different than the last. where before, he’d been experimental, testing the waters almost and tasting you for the first time, he now devours your very soul like a man starved of water and you, his fountain found in a scorching desert. his lips are searing as they move, and he pours so much into you that it becomes too much and it burns so deliciously, filling you until whimpers slip out from you and your hands hungrily pull apart his buttons. his nails dig into your thighs as he bites down on your bottom lip and pulls before he begins to press kisses against your cheek, trailing wet, impatient lines of spit along your jaw.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” its almost a growl when he speaks, low and dangerous as he feels himself slipping further. his teeth sink into your dark skin and he sucks, hard, relishing in the moans that you reward him with. “how badly i wanted to have you till i couldn’t sleep at night.”

“s-sir wait,” you try to call him, struggling to find your words amidst the fog clouding your brain. he’s sucking your skin so much that you fear he’ll leave marks, yet your voice seems to only urge him to leave more. “not there, people will see— ngh!”

he doesn’t pull apart when he grinds his bulge against you, letting you feel just how big and hard he’d gotten for you. each move he makes sends you reeling, the pool between your legs enough to soak you right through your stockings as he rolls his hips into yours.

“focus,” suguru reprimands you, lowly growling into your neck. “all your attention on me right now. do you understand?”

when you take too long to respond, he pushes one hand around your neck and squeezes, causing you to squeal as he pulls your head back to face him. your mouth hangs open, gasps of air struggling to make it past his hands, his spit smeared all across your lips, cheek and neck with the beginnings of purple bite marks forming on your dark skin — you’re the perfect picture of a mess, your beautiful brown eyes glazed over by lust and desire, so far gone from your normally neat and put together appearance, and it’s all because of him.

“understand?” he bleeds the word slowly, and, feeble, you respond with a desperate nod of your head, barely managing to force out a ‘yes sir..!’ through his grip around your throat. you try to squeeze your legs around his waist, wanting to pull him closer, to feel his cock pressed against you once more, for any kind of friction, but one hand swiftly pries them wide apart as his fingers snake between them. startled, you try to squeeze them close, though your body quickly loses its strength when his slender digits press up against your dampened core.

god, you’re already so fucking wet, you’re dripping enough to leave dark coloured stains atop his wooden desk. suguru marvels at the feeling of your slick practically pooling along his fingers, coating them as he rubs slow, teasing circles over your clothed pussy. “look at that,” he says breathlessly before pulling his hands away to lick at them, and the taste of your essence causes his cock to twitch against their restraints. popping his fingers out of his mouth, he shoves them past your gaping lips for you to swirl your tongue around, a groan escapes him once you begin to suck and whimper around them. “fuck, (y/n), you’re making it hard for me to control myself.”

his thumb brushes against your lip and he pulls your mouth open, dizzy when you eagerly open your mouth for him to spit into. “such a dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?” he grins as you swallow with a moan, “yeah? never dreamed i’d see you do something like this, ms. (l/n). were you thinking about something like this everytime we spoke? hm?”

a sharp ripping sound startles you, though you hardly have the chance to regain your bearings as suguru finally touches you in the place you need him the most. your pussylips are basically sopping and so, incredibly swollen, your clit so eager for him to touch you when he presses his thumb against it. “f-fuck…!” you throw your head back, hissing and biting your bottom lip to contain your cries, all while suguru marvels at seeing you unravel. you’re completely under his control like this, a pretty little doll in the palm of his hands that he could toy and play with until your mind would crumble. the revelation blazes through him like a wildfire and swirls like a ferocious torrent — more, he wants — needs — you to break even more.

“i want an answer, (y/n). how badly did you want me to fuck you all this time?”

you try to respond, though your words fall apart on a weak, wavering cry of his name as he sinks two fingers inside you, feeling them split apart your walls before pulling back out slowly. he uses his knees to keep your legs from clamping shut while his free hand slips your bra up over your chest, letting your full mounds fall freely for him to squeeze. large, brown nipples perk up under the exposure of the cold air, pointy and sensitive beneath his thumb when he pinches one and softly twists. he groans, nearly panting, your pussy clamping down around his middle and ring fingers. “you’re so fucking tight, you’re just leaking and making such a mess. must’ve been waiting for me to fuck this pretty little cunt, huh?”

“nngh, sir..!” oh, those pretty little cries you make would be the end of him. he wants more, wants you to fall apart utterly and completely until your mind would be blank and you would be nothing but a blabbering mess. he wants to feel you, taste you, to devour you whole.

swiftly, he drops down to his knees and spread your legs wide open, one on each of his shoulder for him to see your messy cunt. he’s mesmerized at the view of you, sopping and dripping as your hole squelches around nothing, greedily begging for him to take it and make it his.

above him, you’re barely able to register his movements before you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth hungrily sucking your pussy, and it catches you so off guard that you release a loud cry of his name. “suguru…!”

“shhhh. shhh, baby,” the man doesn’t stop for even a second, muttering the words right up against you and sending shockwaves through your core. desperate to keep your voice down, you clamp your hands over your mouth as you feel his tongue flicker against your swollen clit, back and forth before he begins sucking and lapping. your essence pools all over his tongue and suguru feels himself getting drunk, diving his tongue between your folds while his fingers drill in and out of your hole, filling the large office with sloppy, slurpy noises as he coaxes ever single drop he can out of you.

despite you trying, you fail to hold your voice back as the coil within your gut tightens and your vision grows spotty. his fingers repeatedly brush against that spot deep inside your cunt that makes you see stars and you can’t catch your breath. your moans turn into strangled cries as your legs clench around his head, and you can’t pay any mind to how tightly you’re squeezing him between your plump thighs as you grip his hair to pull him closer. “aah..! aghn! nnngh..! fuck, sir, i’m close…!” your hips begin to buck as you chase your end, desperate for your climax as he groans between your legs and sets a relentless pace with his tongue and hands. he focuses his mouth on your clit while his fingers stretch and fuck your cunt and you taste like honey, pouring into his mouth as he laps it all up and milks you for everything you could give him.

“cum for me, princess.” his muffled voice shoots through your core like lightening, and you feel that coil in your gut reaching its height. you’re almost there, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close— “make a mess all over daddy’s face, come on. thaaaat’s it, baby, gimme all of it… don’t hold back and fucking squirt for me.”

he curls his fingers inside you, and the coil snaps like a bullet shot right through you. your orgasm crashes into your body as every muscle inside you seizes, your cries and whimpers unrestrained and nearly deafening. tremours reck through your figure as suguru coaxes everything out of you with sweet praises, till you squirt all over his face and fingers and you collapse against his desk, sending several important documents and utensils clattering against the carpet.

“shit…!” your eyes barely register suguru’s form hastily rushing to his feet, stumbling and lightheaded, his face and shirt absolutely drenched in your cum as his fingers unbuckle his belt. you see his cock spring out from his boxers when he pulls them down, and in your fucked out daze, you admire how pretty it looks. the pink tip smacks against his toned stomach, the length of it thick and twitching as he grips your thighs and he’s so fucking big. fuck, you start to panic, but your body’s far too weak for you to move quickly, barely able to lean up against your elbows while he folds your legs up against your chest — “wait, sir, not yet, i— haaah!”

your mind blanks, your vision shoots white as his cock bullies its way into your pussy, still sensitive from him eating you out before and a cry erupts out from your chest. above you, suguru’s expression contorts and he groans loudly as he sinks deeper into your cunt. your gummy walls clench down on him as if to keep him out, squeezing him so tightly that his knees nearly give out underneath him. “aaaahh, fuck, (y/n), your pussy feels so fucking good.”

he’s too impatient to give you time to adjust, you just feel so good clamping down on him the way you do and he pounds you, fucking into you relentlessly while you writhe and cry beneath him. “fuck!! sir—!! s-slow down— ahh! haah! ‘m still— still sensitive— ngaahh!”

“sorry, princess.” he huffs, folding your legs further down into your chest and pivoting his pelvis to reach inside you deeper, deeper until he pounds your cervix and you jolt as if you’d been shocked. you have to grab the edge of the desk to keep yourself from sliding from underneath him as he relentlessly fucks into you. “your pussy jus’ feels too good, fuck. ‘s like this pretty cunt was made jus’ for my cock.”

how perfect you look folded underneath him like this, breasts bouncing and tears pooling from your eyes as your body trembles and shakes from the overstimulation. how your hair messily flails underneath you, your clothes all bunched up and your stockings shredded and your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you senselessly wail, fuck, you look so damn hot. “i know you can take it princess,” he coons, stilling his hips as he pushes all the way inside you, pinning you down when you try to squirm. “c’mon, pretty girl…” slowly, he pulls out and slams back into you — once, twice, over and over, each time your walls tightening and squeezing ravenously. “you got this. you’re doing so good for me, soooo so good. you like how my cock feels inside baby? does it feel good fucking up your pretty little pussy?”

“yes…!” with teary eyes, you look up at him, your response short of senseless and incomprehensible as you choke out a sob through your pleasure. “yes, yes, yes, yes, sir, feels so fucking good!”

“shhh, shhh, i know baby,” suguru coos down at you, grinding slow, sweet circles against your core before picking up his pace. the sudden change catches you unprepared and you shout, hands flailing to his biceps and clawing into his skin as he caged your body beneath him. “you’ve been so good for me already, aah, can you gimme one more? cum one more time for me pretty baby, jus’ one more for me.”

as if at his command, you feel that familiar tension take hold of your body as he drills into your cunt, so sudden and without warning as it crashes over you. you squeal, babbling his name over and over as your pussy creams all over his cock, your gasps drawing little air as your orgasm tears through you and leaving you breathless.

“thaaaaat’s it, shit. just like that.” he praises you through stuttering breaths, cooing at you sweetly as you come dkw. from your high. you’re positively fucked out of your mind with tears falling freely from your eyes and drool smearing your cheeks, snd the sight of you like this beneath him, the feeling of your pussy milking around his cock, it’s enough to send him over the edge.

“fuck…!”

his body twitches as his cum spurts inside your pussy, warm and thick and so, so much of it comes out, painting your insides white. your chests heaving in unison, suguru finally collapses on top of your chest, and he’s just every bit of a mess as you are. both of you are absolutely spent of every drop, endorphins coursing through your veins as the adrenaline exists your systems. your eyes seek out his to find him already staring at you with a cheeky grin, your own face flushing with embarrassment while he presses butterfly kisses against your stomach.

“d-did, um…” it’s hard to get the words out, your lungs still very much fighting for air, but you cheekily grin at the man, your boss, kneeling between your legs, and dare to allow your hands to run through his disheveled hair. “was i… able to help?”

suguru weakly chuckles, and your heart flutters a bit at the sight of crinkles forming on his nose. “you did, (y/n).” smiling, he rises to his feet and leans down to kiss you, pressing a hand down on your tummy and pushing down. he feels you writhing beneath his palm as his cum leaks out of you. “trus’ me, ‘s just what i needed.”

2K notes · View notes

bangtansmauyeondan · 2 years ago

Text

TECHNICAL FOUL! | Part 2 - Airball

Pairing: Basketball Coach!Jin x Teacher!Fem. Reader

Rating: 16+

Genre: Enemies to ???, Coworker AU, fluff, angst, implied intimacy

Summary: When one of your best students in class failed his mid-term exams, you only had one person to blame- Coach Jin. He thinks he's the king of the world-tall, handsome, brooding, borderline arrogant and seems to be always getting things done his way, but you are adamant to give him a piece of your mind. The only problem is that you easily get tongue-tied in his presence.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12-deactivated20221218 @bts-reveries @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

•••

Airball

noun. a shot attempt that was off the mark and didn't touch the basket or the backboard

The gooey and oozy mozzarella cheese dribbled down on the side of your bestfriend’s mouth as she widened her eyes in shock, the other half of the deep-fried goodness caught in the air between her greasy fingers. “What!?” Bree exclaimed. “Wait, wait, wait… so you’re telling me that you and the class of 2008 basketball captain Kim Seokjin– whom you’ve been crushing on since high school, work at the same school?”

“Yep…” you winced at the bad taste that the sangria left in your mouth. You’re not really a wine person, but since Bree, your self-proclaimed wine connoisseur of a bestfriend moved in, you’ve been consuming it quite a lot lately. “We were both summoned into the Principal’s office a few days ago because one of my best students has not been best-student-ing right lately because of his basketball practice. Unscheduled, that is.”

“Ooh, did he get all hot and bothered?” she winked.

“No, I did,” you guffawed, smacking your bestfriend and roommate a little bit too hard on the arm. Oh, you think you’re so funny.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re working with him!”

“I didn’t because he’s technically not working with us, or for us,” you sighed. “He’s some minor league hotshot and he’s assigned,” you made quotation marks with your fingers in the air, “... in our school this year, because well, apparently he’s besties with the principal. They’re so tight, they’re on a first name basis, and the principal uses honorifics with him.”

“Oh…” Bree ran her fingers on her chin, pouting in the process as curiosity fell on her face. “What does he look like now? Is he still a cutie?” She batted her eyelashes at you.

You reached out for the empty bottle of Masseto you used for the sangria and placed it in front of Bree. “You see this?” You paused for dramatic effect, before you sighed dreamily.

“Kim Seokjin ages like fine wine.”

—

“Finally! Now you don’t need me to ask my teacher to watch the game, you already met her!” Soobin grinned and ran across the court with the ball, bent his knees and took a shot. Missed.

It was Monday afternoon, and Soobin decided to drop by the gymnasium after his classes. Bag strewn messily on the bleachers, he wasted no time in grabbing a ball and attempting to show off to his coach.

“Hey, that’s traveling! You gotta always dribble!” Seokjin called out. “Do you know the reason why we were called at the principal’s office, huh, young man?”

“Are you both in trouble?”

Seokjin burst out in his infectious squeaky laugh, grabbing the ball from Soobin. “We’re not in trouble, Soobinnie… you are.”

“Me?!” The boy’s eyes widened like saucers. “What did I do? Were my parents there?”

“At that time, no. But Miss ______ will surely have a meeting with them about your grades.” Seokjin dribbled the ball a few times before attempting to shoot a three-point shot. Missed. He signaled for Soobin to retrieve the ball with a cock of his head. “What’s going on, kid? Why have you missed your homeworks and failed your quizzes?”

“They’re getting harder these days, coach,” Soobin whined. “Math was fun until Mr. Park introduced shapes and letters. How are we supposed to calculate them?”

Seokjin scoffed. “You sound like my ex-girlfriend. She can do math, she’s excellent in language, just don’t mix up the two!”

“I agree! She must be fun. Maybe that’s why she broke up with you.”

“Yah…” Seokjin passed the ball to Soobin almost aggressively. “You’re bombing your Science quizzes too.”

“Mr. Jeon wanted us to label a blank skeleton!” Soobin marched towards the bleachers and sat down in frustration.

Seokjin retrieved two bottles of ice-cold water from his cooler and gave one to Soobin. “Have you tried talking to your parents or your teachers that you’re having a hard time?” His heart goes out to the child. He probably feels like he’s gonna get scolded if he admits he’s having a hard time.

“I might get scolded if I ask a lot or say I don’t get it.” Soobin pouted. Bingo. Seokjin was right.

“Hey, don’t think that way, okay?” Seokjin ruffled the kid’s hair. “That’s what your teachers are here for– to help.”

“Can you help me, coach?” Soobin looked up at him with hopeful puppy eyes.

Seokjin threw his head back in laughter. “I helped you get better so we can show off to Miss ______, but it bit me back in the butt because you actually got in trouble. Missed shot, dude. Airball.”

“You thought my teacher was pretty though, so you can’t back out, coach!”

Seokjin contemplated for a bit. He’s pretty sure he’s seen some early 2000 movies (or at least one) where the protagonist used basketball to teach geometry to a struggling kid. Maybe he should do that then. He quickly pulled up his phone and googled the different kinds of angles, just in case you know, he gets confused between an acute angle and an isosceles triangle. Which one makes up the other one again? Anyway, it’s no secret that he also wants to get the teacher’s attention too. He thought you’re very pretty and he overheard one of the senior teachers teasing you about being single a few weeks ago, so he knows it’s okay to crush on you. Crush? Pfft. Why he even thought of such an immature word is beyond him, but maybe because he’s surrounded by tiny humans below 15 years old all the time.

However, what he thought of paled in comparison to what you really looked like up close when he met you at Yoongi’s office. Your almond-shaped eyes are deep set and expressive, your well-groomed eyebrows rise and fall with every emotion mirroring your words, your cheeks are full, and your refined nose compliments your full pouty lips. Your make-up was barely there that he had to stop himself from staring, in case you caught him and you got weirded out.

“Okay, kiddo…” Seokjin stood up and dribbled his way to the center of the court. “You and I will have a one on one geometry lesson starting today, so…” He passed the ball to Soobin which the latter fumbled on catching. “Get into position and let’s show Ms. _________ what we got.”

Coach Seokjin’s goal? Impress you.

#bangtansmauyeondan #technical foul jin #jin x reader #jin fluff #jin angst #kim seokjin fics #bts fics #kim seokjin x reader #tf!jin

30 notes · View notes

stochastique-blog · 9 months ago

Photo

sharing something like this...

Now that’s the dream…

#wine #italian wine #sassicaia #masseto #ornellaia #solaia #gaja #salon

1 note · View note

thewineauctionroom · 4 months ago

Photo

New Post has been published on https://wineauctionroom.com/report-on-winter-online-auction-announcing-next-live-auction/

Report on Winter Online Auction & Announcing Next Live Auction

There has never been a more opportune time to invest in the world’s most iconic wines. Over the past two years, these prestigious wines have reached their lowest price levels, presenting a unique buying opportunity.

We believe the fine wine market is on the brink of a significant upswing. Major market indices stabilised in Q2, and economic indicators suggest that consumer confidence and spending are set to improve. Historically, this has correlated with increased demand for assets such as Fine and Rare wines.

July and August are typically quieter months in the fine wine auction calendar, with limited new releases. This period often presents the best opportunities to acquire rare and trophy wines at affordable prices. As the market recovers, these investments are poised for strong returns.

Our recent Winter Online auction concluded on 7th of July, offered a rare chance to acquire some of these iconic wines at attractive levels. In this sale, Remy Martin Louis XIII Cognac took the highest hammer win at $3525, 1992 Henschke Hill of Grace magnum followed at $1762.50, and 2007 Masseto Tenuta dell’Ornellaia sold for $1175.

Bordeaux was once again the No.1 star region. 2008 Chateau Mouton Rothschild, 1961 Chateau Margaux and 2012 Chateau Lafleur all sold for the same price at $940, 2005 Chateau La Mission Haut-Brion closely followed at $893. Both 2003 Chateau Pavie and 1952 Chateau Latour reached $528.75.

Burgundy was steady as always. 2011 Domaine Leflaive Puligny Montrachet Clavoillon 1er Cru reached $705, 2009 Domaine Bruno Clavelier Chambolle-Musigny La Combe d’Orveaux 1er Cru Vieilles Vigne sold for $376 and 2005 Bouchard Aine et Fils Clos de la Roche Grand Cru closely followed at $364.25.

Some highlights from other major regions, 2003 E. Guigal Ex-Voto Ermitage sold for $763.75, 2004 Penfolds Block 42 Kalimna Cabernet Sauvignon sold for $705, 1966 Dows Vintage Port reached $611, both 2004 Destiny Bay Magna Praemia and 2007 Jim Barry The Armagh Shiraz sold for $376, and 2008 Craggy Range Sophia scored $188.

All prices include Buyers Premium excludes GST.

Our next auction will be a Live Sale held at our Eden Terrace office on August 6. This is another sale filled with outstanding wines, showcasing a range of values with wonderful provenance. Catalogue published and accepting absentee bids now.

0 notes

i-iip · 6 months ago

Text

2023 Marta Martins Silva :: Retornados

🇦🇴 Mocubela; Bairro Montanha Pinto; Uíge: Maquela do Zombo; Baia Farta; Malanje; Songololo; Úíje; São Salvador do Congo; Sabondo; praia Morena; Luanda: Bairro da Cuca, Praia das Conchas; Congo Belga; Luso; Moçâmedes; Lubango [Sá da Bandeira]; Caconda, Bembe, Mabubas, Caxito; Cuito [Silva Porto], Cala, Matal; Huambo [Nova Lisboa], Cela Angola, Serpa Pinho, Cuanza Sul: Gabela, Porto Amboim

🇲🇿 Miteda; Muidambe; Nampula; Vilanculos; SOFALA | Beira: Vila Pery; Boane; Mecuburi; Cabo Delgado; Angoche [António Enes]; Moma, Napetil; Marracuene; Quelimane; Tanganhica; Monapo; Nacala; Nagololo; Boane; Nacala; Gungunhana; Chimoio; Morrumbala; Leopoldville; Alto Molucué; Nauela; Guarué; Muxagala; Murralelo; Inaço; Marromeu;

🇵🇹 Sobreira Formosa, Milreu, Sardoal, Sesimbra: Hotel do Mar, Lisboa: Seraton, Ritz, praia Ribeira do Cavalo; Lisbia: Fonte Luminosa, Bairro Quinta das Furnas, Baixa da Banheira; Castelo de Vide; Paião; Vila Flor; Termas Vale da Mó; Odiáxere; Portela; Minde; São João da Talha; Monfortinho; Forras de Algodres;

🇿🇦 Joanesburgo; 🇧🇷 Curitiba; 🇨🇩 Kinshasa; 🇬🇦 Libreville; 🇳🇦 Windhoek; Walvis Bay; Wandouc;

1896 passaporte para África gratuito

1907 abolição passaporte para África gratuito

1957 independência colónias Belgas, Britânicas

1960: >migração colónias (/) condição civil <> motivos comerciais: seguros, agrorural, indústria, serviços públicos;

Angola-Portugal

amiúde; decrepitudes; cacimbo; bailundos; mala de Mpingo; Marmorite; Cotonang; esbaforida; Frelimo; Navio Niasse, Uige; dinamitar, sanzala, sizal, umbundo, genealógico, Acordo Nakuru, Centro Lingua Portuguesa; crispação, resvalou, chapas Lusalite, tabique, tacanha, navio Kwanza, engalanava, Carlos Gil fotografia, Válery Giscard d'Estaing, naperões, Chipenda, Adidos, cós das calças, previdente, bicuatas, chapas de Flandres; óleo de palma, amêndoa de dendém; Navio Silver Sky; Cruz Vermelha; Claudete; caldeirada de cabrito; ostras, burriés, búzios; debandada; turba, vinho de Moçâmedes, barco Mouzinho de Albuquerque, muamba, calulu; Savimbi; aldeia Tchamutete, Casa dos Rapazes, laripo; cal, mercurocromo; fraticida, kimbo; barco Principe Perfeito, açulada, Colégio Viriato, musseque, Saab 99; Renault 12; taipa; adobe; rockets; quitengues; funge

1956 MPLA: Manifesto Escrito

15.03.1961 Massacre UPA; Congo, Cuanza Norte, Luanda; Baixa dd Cassange; bacongos, canhangulos; Carmona;

13.04.1961 Salazar: envio tropas (33m

Transferência Angola-Portugal com pagamento de % a empresa ou autorizado;

1966 MPLA: Leste - Songololo-Malanje

1966 UNITA: 1ª ação

09.1976 IARN Apoio Retorno de Nacionais

pensões

hospedagem de retornados em hoteis

fornecimento: colchão, espumas

crédito instalação, mobilização

Portugal - Moçambique

FRELIMO, GUMO, COREMO, FICO, RENAMO, ZANU; Ford Mondeo 1600; machamba; praia do Bilene; Kruger Park; Loja Brinquedos Bambi; pastelaria Princesa; Sisalz; Operação Nó Górdio; Planalto dos Mascondes; paulidismo; bilharriose; Cahora Bassa; Rio Zambeze; Spinola_Portugal e o Futuro; SNASP; candonga; SHER; Morgane Delaunay; Instituto Algodão; "Renamo com a farda da Frelimo"; 15 anos Guerra Civil; Renamo (Rodésia África do Sul); Alto,Molucué : Zambézia - algodão; empecilho; Felizardo Masseto; cobra venenosa <> superstição;

🔤 cordoer;

#history #colonialism #africa

0 notes

wine-porn · 10 months ago

Text

Monti Merlot

A stunning IGT meriting serious decant and aging: dusty layers of fruit buried under gobs of tannin, the dearth of early beauty combining with chalky berry in a final elixir making all your oreno, sassi, and masseto playthings seem like chubby pancake syrup. Get the real dealio. 2019 @tenuta.licinia ‘Montepolli’ IGT Toscana 14.5

View On WordPress

0 notes

ofevenings · 1 year ago

Text

she remembers summers best from the backseat.

blurred and sepia-toned with the heat and the filter of muggy dark sunglasses that slip down the bridge of her nose, the window frames all that passes by. dense green patches of farmland, the lone mangled tree in the distance, the dingy neon of gas stations, and the winding snake of skid-marked freeways.

the only other living thing in the sedan sits at the wheel, in silence for hours at a time. she’s like that a lot when there’s no stories to tell. these long stretches of driving serve as the prelude and interlude to the moments she does find something. tucked somewhere in her purse is the neat bundled stack of cards that bear her title and company— by professional standards, news staff of some sort. behind all those manuscripts and non-reimbursed mileage, it’s a little more personal than that. it always is.

han jungmi starts out as no one in some no name town, is a girl that wants to grow up far too fast, and becomes a woman far too soon. at the foot of her shadow follow a string of people and places that she’d shed off with good measure, those not-so-distant memories nothing more but thin, sun-bleached snakeskin. intern, fact-checker, reporter. there’s flashes of faces intermittently; the odd temptation, the one that came with a promise, and never, ever her own parents. it’s sin enough to be young; to be armed with ambition on top of it is practically sacrilege.

the world lets her know it, too. with every little point in her favor—looks, competence, an esteemed degree—appears a higher mountain to climb.

gangwon has plenty of those as it is. it’s off to the races, then. there’s an opening for a legal correspondent in seoul.

II.

domestic bliss has never been more plain: a cramped two-bed-one-bath nestled in itaewon, a place where they can pretend to be ordinary people. mom plays up the part when the door to the apartment opens with a click, soles aching as she gets up from the couch while seri zips right past her.

“dad!”

“hey, kiddo.”

the embrace is warm, as is the plastic bag of takeout on the dining table. he’s always been affectionate this way, even if the undertones of apology were remiss. she supposed his perpetual absence is something he should be sorry for, no matter the reason.

said reason, by the way, being: he’s got his own tail to chase. many a time it takes him across the country, continents, and (according to mom) to a whole different planet, entirely.

as the degrees of separation widen with age, the attempts to close the gap accelerate with earnest. postcards, souvenirs, gifts with heavier price tags by the year, and a trust fund that she suddenly had access to the summer before college.

III.

it’s always a steady rise before the steep incline. with every step is an exponential growth in magnitude. han jungmi is no overnight sensation, but it’s not everyday korea gets their first female news anchor, either.

groundbreaking momentum and a shattered glass ceiling leaves an open sky and a wide road for seri to take flight. the changes to make such a thing possible accumulate in a slow motion torpedo—middling apartment to penthouse to a second house tucked inside a gated community in apgujeong. starch white uniforms switched out for the pressed blazers and knee length cashmere socks. the excess alone is dizzying, but being the new kid yet again brings an old, old wave of nausea.

seri’s quiet enough to float by, meticulous enough to keep from drowning into oblivion. these days, the calls that go straight to dad’s voicemail make her bristle with annoyance than falter like she’d use to.

mom no longer asks her to understand, either. the ring on her finger, a small silver band, is loosened and unloosened as the sommelier brings the prized masseto to their table.

IV.

she doesn’t mean it to be a rebrand, but nobody can do a whole lot to resist the way a new place shapes them. boston’s bound to make anyone a little mean. could be due to the bone-numbing cold, a reactionary reflex to new england pretention, or she’s simply aligning herself into the shape she’s supposed to take a couple years down from now.

men, seri reaffirms with new age, remain as audacious as the boys they’d once been. if deep-seated daddy issues could explain away everything, then it might’ve made all that posturing worth something. the deliberate way they seek possibility in places that don’t have it, and the innocuous ways women entertain with blistering boredom: the careful curl of a mouth, the exposed slope of a neck, the glint of defiance in a bright-eyed stare.

she’s sure dad was, is, the same way. those like him, she finds, over and over again, know reckless abandon better than anyone else.

her mom skypes in for graduation. “got better places to be, remember?”

a command wrapped into a reminder for the obvious. the itinerary for her flight next week is pulled up on the browser.

a scoff. “you could at least help me with packing.”

VI.

the worst part is finding out entirely on your own.

there’s no warning, no exposition, no easing into shallow waters. it’s by pure, sick chance.

it’s some travel package to rome this time. with love, he’d ended the note, after a lengthy explanation as to where he’s been and where he will be.

last she’d checked, london was in england and not the lobby of the shillah. his back is turned, oblivious and only ten feet apart from where seri stood, blood gone cold. the woman at his arm has a hand that wears a twenty-four carat diamond on her ring finger. next to her is a face that bears equal resemblance to the both of them. even with a couple years on him, he’s unmistakably from a past far too close for comfort.

“seri?”

too. fucking. close.

"what are you doing here?”

#c. nam seri

0 notes