#RIP Bentley (┬┬﹏┬┬)

[rovermcfly]

I really really hope that S3 has a minor plot point of the bentley being sad that aziraphale is gone and no matter how much crowley pretends and insists he doesn't care or miss aziraphale the bentley doing the car equivalent of crying hysterically always reminds him how much that is exactly how he feels

[maufungi]

The Bentley is a lie

(This is a spoiler zone for Good Omens season 2) Hey guys! I found something strange (and most likely the stupidest meta of all)

I read these amazing posts about the Bentley Ineffable discontinuity and the Bentley's roadtrip transformation and this one by @embracing-the-ineffable and @thesherrinfordfacility

and they got me thinking…

Why the Bentley is a lie:

So while re-watching episode 2, I noticed something strange…

Something immediately caught my eye in the first scene. The blue box in which the "2" (2500 BC) is written. In terms of color grading, I find it very striking.

A second blue box appears with the "L" of "Land of Uz".

The next 2 are in the book of Job that Aziraphale and Crowley are looking at. "T" and an "S" can be found.

In the back of my mind there was still the hint that this episode was called "The Clue". And of course there would have to be hidden clues in this episode. Something story or meta relevant.

So I just googled "2LTS". (Because I am a research professional)

And to my surprise a model of a car appeared, that looked very similar to the Bentley: the Ballot 2LTS.

Maybe there is a Bentley at the start of the season (episodes 1 and 2) but they later switched it to another car? The Ballot 2 LTS.

I don't know anything about cars. So I read a bit about them. To my surprise, a Bentley isn't just a Bentley. It's the chassis that is from the manufacturer Bentley and the body is made by a coachbuilder company. (In this post @scrapheapchallenge explains which body the old Bentley in season 1 had and what happend to it in season 2.)

So my theory is that they changed the Bentley chassis to a Ballot. And put on a 4 door body.

This could explain the changing seat colors and hubcaps.

And why they talk about a Bentley in the first two episodes and later just use the word car.

And why a Queen song is only played once in the Bentley. (Episode 1)

The Bentley was there at the beginning but then it was replaced?

In what way is this relevant for the story? I don't know.

Why are the clues hidden within the Job storyline? I don't know.

Maybe it has to do with multiple timelines (by @noneorother) where the Bentley is and isn't? I don't know.

Maybe the the french word "Ballot" has a deeper meaning? I don't know.

Does any of this make sense? Probably not, but I had fun writing it.

The only thing I know is that the Bentley ought to be the old Bentley, but it seems to be another car.

There are more of those blue squares (did you see the metatron's TIE?!), so I will look further into them, but for so long:

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I'll let myself out.

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

one demon's peril (is another car's pain) (T)

It’s Soho’s second Christmas without Aziraphale, and things are bound to go wrong. Muriel finds a book, Crowley has a panic attack, and the Bentley goes berserk due to the intrinsic connection she and her owner have to share. Surprisingly, this does not end all that bad.

link to ao3

exclusivity on the @in-love-with-my-car-zine (IILWMC)'s second volume has ended, so i'm publishing the fic from it!! sorry i haven't written anything besides a 300 word poem since january, i've been busting my ass off on bang events (among Other Personal things...looks at month long silence) so i can't publish the sum of 100k words i have in my docs (not an exagerattion, its really that much). just watch guys. i'll be back with a schedule and everything...for now, enjoy. <3

[annepsilvaauthor]

You Belong With Me - Jamie Dutton

Pairing: Jamie Dutton x OC (Ava North)

Summary: Ava only wanted one thing: to be a horse tamer. And when she had the chance, she took it. Ava became the new horse tamer of Yellowstone, a totally different ranch from the others she met, either because of its immensity or because of family problems. Ava thought her problems were big, but when she met the Dutton family that thought dies. However, there is a Dutton who is a point out of the curve, a lawyer mistreated by the problems and by his own family. Meeting Jamie Dutton may not have been the work of chance, after all one broken understands the other.

Warnings: Subtle sexual innuendos, brief language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, fluffy.

A place for women

"The ranch isn't a place for women, Ava." Rip said sounding more protective than she had ever seen. "There are only animals there."

"Great, I love animals," she replied with determination after taking a sip of her beer.

"Don't tell me you want to wash a cow's ass? That's what a cowboy does...and many other things."

"No, I don't want that. You know what my talent is, Rip." She reminded him with a confident smile of her glory days in the rodeos.

"Oh, of course. The 'horse enchanter'. I remember her." He disdained with a smile and drank a sip of beer straight from the bottle. "You earned much more at the rodeos than you would at the ranch."

"You know why I done competitions, I'm not going to get into this subject again." She protested almost angry and asked for another drink.

Ava looked around. It was almost three in the morning and the bar was empty, there were only the two of them there exchanging favors as they always did. Rip sent it, she did it and he paid for it. It was always good money, but she was tired of infiltrating, selling her body to get information and pretending to be who she wasn't. The competitions gave her a lot of fame and exposure, the work of private detective locked her in lies. Ava wanted an escape from all that, she wanted to live in a place where she could be herself. Yellowstone looked like one of those places.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Ava asked incisively, but Rip continued in his passive state, drinking the beer as if it were the most expensive wine in the world. "Damn, we've known each other for I don't know how many fucking years and I've never asked you for anything, Rip. This should help you understand how much this matters to me."

"I know it's important to you...and it's precisely because we've known each other for so long that I'm afraid to put you in there." He sighed heavily and ran away from her eyes with every word. "You know the...things I've been doing, damn it. You know that. In there you're not a simple cowboy or horse tamer, you're their property. His property."

"You never complained about what you had to do for the Dutton. This means that you agree with what should have been done. You are part of them now or of his property. And if he protects his own property so well and I will be a part of it, then there is no other place in the world safer than there."

Rip shook his head in denial and fixed his dark and deep eyes on hers. There was pain, anger and sadness in them, something not so different from Ava's. That's what connected them and continued to keep their friendship so alive.

"I'm not going to convince you otherwise, am I?" He asked with a weak smile and she denied it with her head. He sighed strongly and drank two more big sips of his beer. "OK. I can do it for you...but there's something you need to know before you get in."

"I'm all ears." Ava moved around on the stool, turning totally to her friend, who had suddenly taken a very serious tone.

"We all value loyalty very much. John values that for real. We do what he asks without questioning... out here you had the opportunity to change branches as many times as you needed, but not there. Once you entered the ranch, you don't leave there anymore, do you understand?" Rip's eyes shone in a kind of devotion mixed with terror and Ava paid attention at every word, internalizing that for good. She nodded in agreement. "Are you sure you still want to do that?"

"More than anything in my life." Ava opened a moved smile." It will be good for me, Rip, you know that. They were good for you. Look at you! All full of authority, toughness and giving me orders. What can be so bad about that ranch that I haven't seen in my life?"

He didn't answer that, he just looked at her again in depth, which made her feel as small as she was when they met a few months before the tragedy with his family. Rip had been her protector as a child and, even though Ava was already on the verge of thirty-five, he still protected her as if she were that frightened and lost girl from Miles City. Well, Ava was no longer like that, she could take down anyone who approached her with ulterior motives, but a part of her liked Rip's protection, as much as it often irritated her.

"I'm going to be your boss." He informed in a mocking tone after the brief pause.

"Let's see for how long." Ava returned in challenge and the two laughed.

"Be in the shed in an hour." He announced and Ava raised an eyebrow. Rip laughed. "I'm not going to make it easy for you just because we're friends. You'll be like any other beginner."

"I didn't expect anything different from you." Ava stroked his shoulder with one hand, pulling his attention out of the bottle to her. "Thank you for that."

"Let's drink one more as friends."

[grande-caps]

Yellowstone 5.09 - Desire Is All You Need

Quality : HD Screencaptures Amount : 1.496 files Resolution : 1.920 x  1.080 px

- Please like/reblog if using!

[breadstickroll]

first attempt in a LONG time of an actual comic deal... i had an idea that aziraphale falls, also from asking god why it all has to end. god would immediately cast him down, striking him with holy power the whole way down. aziraphale however absorbs it instead, being truly pure of heart, and ends up with a marbled black and white pattern on his wings.

[chiyuki-hiro]

A visual aid for what type of man I find attractive, vs what type of man my Mom finds attractive. 

[sparkly-key]

Uncontrolled descent

The bookshop was in flames. Aziraphale was gone. Killed. And Crowley couldn't see the sense of staying on Earth or the hope of fleeing to Alpha Centuri. So he goes to the end of the world, angry at Heaven and Hell for wanting their stupid war. Written for Day 4 of Whumptober 2023 - "I can see the danger. It's written there in your eyes."

Crowley stared at the legions of the infernal and the angelic - their members clashing on the Tadfield Airfield tarmac and in the air above it – from behind the wheel of the Bentley as he idled at the edge of the woods.

The end of the world.

He laughed bitterly, tipping his head back and upending the bottle of merlot into his gaping maw with no attention paid to the nectar that escaped his lips.

He should have run. Shoulda shoved the angel into the Bentley and fled to Alpha Centuri like he’d intended hours ago. Or 11 years ago, when this damned debacle had started.

Now they’d killed Aziraphale – Heaven or Hell, didn’t know which one, but damn them all and their bloody war - and he couldn’t even think about escaping Earth. Because what was the point if his angel wasn’t there with him?

Crowley finished the bottle with a gulp and thew it onto the passenger seat, hissing as it clattered against the small mountain of broken glass that littered the spot where Zira had sat the night before. His head pounded but the demon didn’t care enough to miracle away the ache. It wouldn’t matter soon in any case.

A column of lightning barreling down toward the tarmac caught his eye – a stark contrast to the few single licks that danced between the sky and ground as less skilled angels smote whatever demon they could target. No, this display of might practically had a signature and its maker was apparent as he beheld Sandalphon, his wings folding and fanning out expertly as Her executioner struck down his opponents with either the golden sword in his right hand or the precise finger he used to smite those unlucky enough to receive his target. His face alight with a sadistic satisfaction Crowley hadn’t seen since Sodom and Gomorrah.

“That’ll do it,” the demon slurred. He fumbled for the door handle, his lithe fingers pulling at it but finding no give as the Bentley refused to release him. “Let me out, you hunk of russssty metal.”

His car ignored him, revving its engine defiantly as it reversed toward the treeline to get him away from the battlefield. Crowley hissed, slamming his foot on the brake. The Bentley shuddered to a stop, trembling from the force of his ire.

“Either let me out or I’ll drive you there myself,” he demanded, his eyes stinging from unshed tears. “Can’t sssstand the thought of you ending up a twisted lump of ssscraps, not when there’s sssssome idiot mortal who can appreciate you properly before this all goes titssss up.”

His car, his second longest companion, sputtered indignantly at the thought of leaving him.

“’M doin’ thisssss, beautiful, can’t ssssstop me,” Crowley promised. “So you’re either gonna have to leave or drive sssssstraight for that sssadistic twat.”

The radio came on with a burst of static, the thin red line ricocheting from one end of the AM-FM spectrum until it came to rest in the center and music blared through the speakers.

Here we stand or here we fall

History won't care at all

Make the bed light the light

Lady mercy won't be home tonight yeah

The Bentley roared to life, slamming the redhead back against the driver’s seat as gas hit the floor and the pair careened off the incline toward the carnage.

Crowley’s lips twisted in proud smirk, just a hint of sorrow in his eyes as he reached for his spare glasses in the glove box. He slid the wiry frames up his nose and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Atta girl,” he whooped as they burst through barricade. The Bentley fishtailed, bodies of angels and demons colliding with its obsidian frame before the car straightened its course and peeled onto the tarmac – where Gabriel clashed with Beezelbub, their armies circling them in combat as if though they were gladiators in Rome.

It wasn’t Crowley’s plan, but he could improvise.

You don't waste no time at all

Don't hear the bell but you answer the call

It comes to you as to us all

We're just waiting

For the Hammer To Fall

The redhead snarled when a bolt struck them, ripping through the hood. He braced himself as the car flipped forward, cartwheeling grill to bumper until it slid to a stop on its roof. No music was heard, just the sound of a faintly sputtering engine.

Crowley grunted in pain from where he’d landed, the frame twisting around him like a cocoon. His corporation protested as the demon pat the crumpled dash fondly. “Knew I could count on you.”

I've taken my bows

And my curtain calls

You brought me fame and fortune

And everything that goes with it

I thank you all

The lyrics wheezed through the speakers as Crowley forced himself through the wreckage, ripped metal and jagged glass tearing his clothes and his flesh. He snarled as another bolt – not as strong as Sandalphon’s but still nothing to sneer at – struck the Bentley, silencing it completely while the impact slammed Crowley’s shoulder onto a piece of rebar twisting out of the door frame.

With his car hushed, he could hear the battle around him, the cries of fury and pain ringing out among the cacophony of metal clashing against metal and thunder echoing through the air between the cracks of lightning.

Gritting his teeth, the demon freed his shoulder first – biting his lip to contain the pained yell that threatened to escape – and then the rest of his body. He stood, leaning against Bentley as he took in the sight around him.

A scream of agony broke the air as blinding coil of lightening erupted less than 100 feet away and Crowley turned his golden gaze to the sky. Sandalphon was hovering with his back to the demon, his ivory wings beating steadily.

He pulled an engine crank from the wreckage of his car, the somehow unharmed metal cool in his hand. He ignored the pain in his shoulder as he stepped away from Bentley’s support and strode toward the balding bastard whose offhand treatment of Aziraphale had always rankled.

“Oi, you overssssized tweety bird!” Crowley shouted, testing the weight of his makeshift club. He doubted the prick would make the mistake of getting close, but he was an optimist at heart.

As Sandalphon turned, the demon inhaled deeply, pulling from his aching core, and opened his serpentine maw to unleash a dragon-like flame. The hellfire reached for its target, dancing through the air as the angel furiously beat his wings to remove himself from its range.

He roared, more for effect than for affect, for a moment more and then closed his jaw, his corporation normal.

“Well, if it isn’t Aziraphale’s infernal boyfriend,” the angel sneered.

“Keep my angel’s name out of your fucking mouth,” Crowley hissed, darting forward. His ebony wings flared out behind him, lifting him off the ground with a mighty stroke. The wind bit at his eyes, but the demon’s gaze never left his target as he chased, climbing higher through the sky.

Sandalphon broke through the cumulonimbus clouds, obscuring himself from view. Crowley corkscrewed upwards, wind spiraling outward from his body and dissipating the clouds around him. As he got his bearings, his gaze darted around, searching for the threat.

Instead, it barreled into him from behind. Sandalphon’s arm wrapped around his throat, cutting off his breath as Crowley tried to draw out his hellfire. The angel’s free hand dug into the wound on the demon’s shoulder, close enough to his left wing’s muscle that the dark appendage faltered and caused the redhead to waver in the air.

Sandalphon pulled them backward through the sky and in the blink of an eye, his arm was no long around Crowley’s neck as his hands caught grip of both of his wing’s metacarpus. He twisted his body, planting his feet on the demon’s back, and shoving the redhead’s form away as he yanked his wings back.

He heard a terrible snap and a guttural scream burst from Crowley’s mouth as violently as the hellfire had moments before.

The angel let go and once again, Crowley was falling.

The wind twisted him around as he plummeted through the air and in his descent, the demon could see Sandalphon raise his finger.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted as lightning lanced the sky.

[davorkuhelj]

R.I.P. Dame Vivienne Isabel Westwood (8. April 1941 – 29. December 2022). Dame Vivienne Westwood passed away peacefully and surrounded by her family, in Clapham, South London. She was an iconic English fashion designer and businesswoman, largely responsible for bringing modern punk and new wave fashions into the mainstream. Photo was taken in 2007 when she teamed up with Bentley Milano for one of her fashion shows. We see her next to a beautiful 1992 Bentley Continential. Photo and info: bentleyspotting.com #viviennewestwood #bentley #bentleycontinental #fashiondesigner #rip #classiccar #bentleymotors #bentleycars #bentleylife #classicbentley #rrec #cabrio #bentleylove #luxury #luxurycars #punkfashion #punkisdead #punk #bentleyfans #luxuryvehicle #carsofinstagram #newwavefashion #newwave #instacars #dead #carlifestyle #died #fashion #bentleycabrio (at Milan, Italy) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cmy6LelI4AZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ineffablechild]

honestly, when I first watched s1, I just thought it was a piece of his car and that he, because it just went up in flames, just wanted something to remember it by...

crowley used the metal tool in season 1 to start time, and we learn that he's used it first to start space. to create the stars -- he still remembers how. he still remembers all of heaven's passwords: in the book crowley is described as an optimist because he has the "utter surety... that the universe would look after him". not god, but the universe. and of course he does: he helped create it and he's looking after it, too.

think about it: aziraphale had a sword, but crowley is about to face satan who wants to destroy the world, and crowley's only weapon is a tool of creation

[randomriddlee]

list of my favourite things in good omens 2 that not many people talk about

„the masks will be provided for every demon that can’t blend in” (sth like that) and they were COVID MASKS?????

ty tennant aka david’s son played cunty twink that hit on aziraphale????

long haired gabriel jumpscare

after crowley’s apology dance aziraphale gave him a look resembling bedroom eyes i will die on this hill

saraqael miracling a ramp in the bookshop <33

good old fashioned lover boy playing in the bentley, thank you neil for your (fan)service we love u

nonbinary spouse my beloved

also crowley and shax using they/them pronouns for beelzebub so effortlessly <3

the fact that words like kink, grindr and twitter (rip) were mentioned???

the way david’s regular eyes looked absolutely stunning on prefall!crowley

crowley teaching aziraphale how to appreciate human things

aziraphale choosing humans over his loyalty to heaven <3 again <3

crowley. wouldn’t. let. aziraphale. fall.

the fact that Gabriel is still a self-absorbed mf (statue scene with beelzebub) and this same person chose his love over his status

aziraphale asking what gabriel and beelzebub want and then never asking crowley the same thing?????

aziraphale and crowley choosing each other but not in the way the other wants at all? but you know, they have very different exactlies

[dahlia-molinas]

rip to everyone upset about the ending of good omens s2 but im different. neil gaiman look at me i want it to get worse. i want crowley and aziraphale to be absolutely miserable in the beginning of season 3. i want aziraphale to crawl under his desk and cry every three minutes. i want crowley to lock himself into the bentley and listen to hozier and to see someone eating and start bawling immediately because it reminds him of aziraphale

[doritochoi]

Teacher's Pet | C.S

pairing: fem!reader x teacher!choi san

genre: pure smut, 18+, mdni ( because its always my fav)

warnings: san is in his late 20s, reader is 21 years old, public sex, unprotected sex, big!dick san, teacher x student relationship.

Every day when you left the school building, you would see your art teacher, Mr. Choi. He was sitting in the schoolyard with the other teachers, smoking a cigarette. Even if you weren't a smoker, this sight was inexplicably appealing. You noticed how the pronounced veins on his hand gripped the cigarette with undeniable elegance. It was a small detail that fascinated you every time. You didn't know exactly what attracted you so much to Mr. Choi. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, always with an air of mystery and distinction. Or maybe it was the passion he put into teaching art, inspiring you, to explore your own artistic talents. Despite the fact that you couldn't explain exactly why you were attracted to Mr. Choi, your obsession with him grew day by day. You knew everything about him, from the car he drove—a sleek black Bentley that gleamed in the sunlight—to his daily habits. Indeed, your obsession with Mr. Choi could not be explained only by the external details you observed about him. It was something deeper than that. You are seeing him not only as a teacher, but also as a protective and inspirational figure in your life. In his every gesture and every look you felt safe around him, like he was an anchor in a sea of ​​uncertainty. Being a strong and wise mentor, you wanted to learn more from him and feel protected in his presence.

It was Wednesday, 7 PM. You always waited in the hallway to see your favorite teacher. You even knew when he arrived. You waited until you heard footsteps approaching, knowing it was him because his footsteps had a distinct sound you recognized. You see him climbing the stairs, and hurriedly you enter the classroom. You sat impatiently in the chair, looking towards the door and waiting for Mr. Choi. Finally, the door opens, and he appears in the doorway, exuding an air of safety and elegance. His black jacket matched his hair perfectly, and the slightly unbuttoned shirt revealed a bit of his well-defined chest. His hair framed his face impeccably, and each strand seemed to be carefully placed to highlight the fine features of his face. But the most captivating were his eyes. They were a warm, rich shade like melted caramel. In the sunlight, his eyes were shining in a charming mixture of gold and brown. His gaze, penetrating and mysterious, had the power to hypnotize you. Your eyes traveled further down, noticing his slightly transparent shirt and loosened tie. His slim waist was always a temptation for you. You wanted to feel the texture of his skin under your fingers, notice how it felt to hug that waist that seemed to be ripped from a work of art. Those pants, which sat perfectly on him, accentuating his well-defined figure, were hard to ignore. You couldn't help but turn your gaze to them, noticing how they molded perfectly to his legs and highlighted every movement of his graceful body. With every step he took, the pants seemed to draw your attention more and more, and you couldn't help but want him to get closer, to notice every detail of that charming appearance.

He sat down in the chair and you assumed he was sitting with his legs spread, imagining you could sit on his thighs and move lightly on them. This thought made you feel a little excited rubbing your thighs together. After that, he announced that the next mark would be given for a drawing that would impress him. You didn't hesitate and took out a sheet, starting to draw immediately. In less than ten minutes, you've created a perfect drawing of Mr. Choi in all his glory. His position was exactly the same as sitting on the chair, and every detail of his expression and posture was captured precisely. Mr. Choi sats up elegantly from his chair, and the subtle scent of his perfume wafted throughout the classroom, captivating your senses. With quick and sure steps, he began to walk through the students, finally stopping behind you. He bent down a little, put his hand on your shoulder, and you flinched a little from the movement he made. He looks at your drawing, smirks, then brings his lips to your ear whispering in a husky voice. "Can you meet me after class?", he said so softly that only you could heard. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You didn't even know what to answer, so you turned your gaze towards him, now staring at his features and nodded.

The hour passed extremely quickly and you have to go home, but you remembered your teacher's words. Before going to his office, you went to the bathroom. You unbuttoned 2 buttons on your shirt and lifted your skirt a little so that your red panties could be seen. You honestly didn't know what was in your head to do something like that, but you couldn't resist anymore. Seeing him so many times with that innocent face, pretending he doesn't notice you, it annoys the hell out of you. After you got your things, you headed to his office. You stopped in front of the big wooden door. That door made you to feel different things, especially since you know very well who is inside. You took a deep breath, put your hand on the doorknob and opened the door. As soon as you opened the door, you started to feel an intoxicating scent of vanilla that was present in the whole room.He was there, sitting on the chair and looking at the laptop. He looked at you from time to time, enjoying every part of your body. "I knew you would come", he closed the laptop making you startle a little. He got up from his chair now seeing how he looked. His shirt was almost undone, and his pants looked wrinkled, you didn't know what or who brought him to that stage, but he looked different. He was getting towards you, and you ended up hitting your back against the wall. You couldn't look at him, so you started lowering your head, looking at the ground. "Look at me, miss," he moved so close to your face that you could feel his breath. You didn't do what he was saying, you continued to look down, annoying him. He wasn't happy with what you were doing so he took your hands and stuck them to the wall above your head forcing you to look into his eyes. "Don't avoid the situation", he started to put his hand on your waist and then lower reaching your panties. He looks at them, then keeps playing with the material. "We both know what you want, and you know well that I can offer you everything you want", this time you could feel his breath on your neck, until you felt something wet. He kissed you in a unic style making you feel things. Mr Choi grins a little, watching how he can dominate your body and see what things he can do to you. "Tell me pretty girl, what is your on your mind?", his voice was so low that only you could hear it. His hands began to roam your body, undoing the buttons on your shirt, now remaining with only the bra visible. "Please, fuck me" ,these were your last words, not thinking twice about what you were going to do.

He picked you up in his arms, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he took you to the front of his desk, making you sit with your ass on it. His hands started going everywhere, from your firm breasts to your panties. He undid your bra, and a hand massaged your left breast, kissing you passionately. You let out a moan, making him even more excited than before, rubbing his cock against your leg as well. "Bend over ", you didn't even stop to think, because you got off his desk, and you bent over showing him an amazing view. He got down on his knees, tore your skirt, now showing only the red panties you chose for him. "Fuck, I can't wait to taste you", he starts running his hands on your inner thighs, then approaching with his lips, applying small kisses. "Stop teasing, please" , You knew he was the type of person who likes to tease, especially you. He always did this and he likes it a lot. With a determined hand, he starts and removes your panties, looking with such a charming look as if it was all he wanted. He licked his lips, started to come closer and without saying anything, his tongue was already doing its job. Mr. Choi’s tongue moved with deliberate precision, exploring every sensitive spot with a teasing slowness that drove you mad. Each flick and swirl sent waves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back and press against his mouth. The room filled with your moans, the sound echoing off the walls, blending with the intoxicating scent of vanilla that still lingered in the air. He pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your wetness as he spoke, "Tell me how it feels, pretty girl. I want to hear every detail." You could barely form thoughts, but you managed to gasp out, "It feels amazing... please, don't stop." A smirk played on his lips as he continued his sensual assault, his tongue now circling your clit with agonizing slowness before giving it a gentle suck. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as you fought to stay grounded under the intense pleasure. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them in a way that made stars explode behind your closed eyelids. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "I can feel how much you want this." , "Yes, Mr. Choi... I want you so badly," you panted, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. "Patience, pretty girl. I want to savor every moment of this." He continued to work you with his fingers, each thrust and curl perfectly timed to keep you on the edge. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles that had you teetering on the brink of climax. But just as you were about to tip over, he stopped, pulling his hand away and leaving you panting and needy. You let out a frustrated whimper, looking down at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Why did you stop?" He stood up, his body towering over you as he undid his belt, the sound of the leather sliding through the loops making your heart race. "Because I want you to beg for it, pretty girl. I want to hear you say exactly what you want." Your eyes locked onto his, filled with desperate desire. "Please, Mr. Choi. I want you inside me. I need to feel you." He slowly lowered his pants and boxers, his hard cock springing free. He stroked it a few times, letting you see just how much he wanted you too. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Yes," you breathed, your eyes locked on his impressive length. "I want you to fuck me. Please."

With a satisfied smirk, he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet folds, teasing you just a bit more. "You’re so eager, aren’t you? Such a good girl, asking so nicely." You could only nod, your breath hitching as he slowly began to push inside you. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you completely, was almost too much to bear. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him. He started with slow, deliberate thrusts, each one hitting just the right spot inside you. "You feel so good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "So tight and wet." Your nails dug into his back as you clung to him, your body trembling with pleasure. "Faster, please," you begged, needing him to take you harder. He didn’t need to be told twice. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more urgent. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the familiar coil of your impending orgasm tightening with each thrust. "Oh, Mr. Choi," you cried out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "I'm so close.", "Come for me, pretty girl," he urged, his voice rough and demanding. "I want to feel you come around my cock." That was all it took. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your walls clenching around him as you screamed his name. He continued to thrust into you, riding out your climax, pushing you to heights of pleasure you’d never known before. As you came down from your high, he slowed his pace, giving you a moment to catch your breath. But he wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled out and flipped you over, bending you over the desk. The cold wood against your heated skin was a stark contrast that made you shiver. He entered you again, this time from behind, his thrusts deep and relentless. One hand gripped your hip while the other reached around to play with your clit, adding to the overwhelming sensations. "Do you like this, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice strained with his own pleasure. "Do you like being fucked like this?", "Yes," you moaned, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I love it. Don't stop." He didn’t. He kept up the punishing pace, driving you both closer to the edge. You could feel another orgasm building, this one even more intense than the last. "I’m going to come again," you warned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Come for me, pretty girl," he commanded, his voice a growl. "Come all over my cock." With a final, powerful thrust, you did. Your orgasm ripped through you, more intense than anything you’d ever felt. He followed soon after, his own release spilling into you with a guttural moan. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound your heavy breathing and the pounding of your heart. He stayed inside you for a moment longer, savoring the feeling, before finally pulling out and collapsing onto the desk beside you. You both lay there, spent and satisfied, basking in the afterglow. "That was incredible," you whispered, your voice hoarse from screaming. He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You were incredible, pretty girl."

[annepsilvaauthor]

You Belong With Me - Jamie Dutton

Pairing: Jamie Dutton x OC (Ava North)

Summary: Ava only wanted one thing: to be a horse tamer. And when she had the chance, she took it. Ava became the new horse tamer of Yellowstone, a totally different ranch from the others she met, either because of its immensity or because of family problems. Ava thought her problems were big, but when she met the Dutton family that thought dies. However, there is a Dutton who is a point out of the curve, a lawyer mistreated by the problems and by his own family. Meeting Jamie Dutton may not have been the work of chance, after all one broken understands the other.

Warnings: Subtle sexual innuendos, brief language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, fluffy.

Part I

A woman among rustic men

"Guys, this is Ava North. She will stay with us from now on. Treat her like one of you." Rip announced to the cowboys at dawn.

Ava watched every look of the cowboys carefully. They stared at her in a mixture of discredit, confusion and horniness. She did not expect anything different from what she received, after all, she was the only woman among those rustic men who probably had no time or willingness to leave the barn in search of some adventure in the city. Rip could order them to treat her like a man, they could try to treat her like a man, she wanted them to see her like that, but Ava would never pass herself off as a man.

Ava had inherited her mother's long dark hair, as well as slightly tanned skin and small, black eyes. They said that her nose and mouth looked a lot like her father's, but she couldn't say it since she never saw him. The slender and curvilinear body may have been inherited by genetics, although the years of training for competitions have physically prepared her for something beyond rodeo. The fact was that, even under a hat, wide and thick clothes, heavy boots and dust, Ava did not go unnoticed by anyone, especially for those men.

Rip did not give enough time for the cowboys to whisper or approach Ava, sending them to perform the daily tasks. One of them, Lloyd, a man who looked more than fifty years old, but with a cervix as hard as hers, guided her with a respectful smile to one of the horses in the barn. It was big, black and shiny.

"How gorgeous you are." Ava exclaimed walking her hands through the robust mane and it snealed loudly at her. "Hey, calm down, boy."

"This stallion has given us a lot of work." Lloyd explained in his hoarse voice. "Rip told about your old job. Do you think you can do your magic with this one?"

"I can try." She caressed the strong shoulders of that horse as a woman would caress the man she loved. "The secret is in trust. Probably whoever rode him was more afraid of him than he was of the tamer. He can feel everything, even a miserable fly in the hull, and he certainly feels our fear."

"He seems to like you." Lloyd smiled under his thick mustache as he contemplated the calm of the stallion under Ava's hands. "Let's test it."

Lloyd opened the gate and guided the stallion through the partitions until he reached the huge fence about a hundred meters away. He prepared the cell and the stirrups, so he invited her to assemble. As much as Ava had practiced that for long years, it had been a long time since she rode a horse for the last time. And taming one ha longer than that. She didn't want to tell Rip about it or she wouldn't convince him to accept her there. But the fact was that Ava was a bit nervous to ride again,

She noticed that Lloyd was watching her carefully, trying to find some reason for her to be there in the middle of those rough men who barely knew how to read. Maybe he thought why she had left the competitions or how she had convinced Rip to let her work there. Whatever his thought, Ava should demonstrate with actions that she deserved to be there, that she really had a talent and loved what she did.

So, she leaned on the cell and rode the horse. Immediately, the stallion was surprised by her presence there and began to jump and rabble, wanting to expel her from there. However, years could have passed, but the muscular memory was as alive as before. Ava grabbed the cell tightly and tied her other hand to the stirrup, slightly forcing the horse's snout. He still moved under her mount, making her run through the white sand a few times. That horse was very fierce, but Ava wouldn't be defeated.

She lightly pressed the stallion's ribs with her boots, also trying to calm her own being. Once again relaxed, Ava finally got the animal to stop jumping and start running. The strong breeze of the morning hit her face without merce, taking her hat away, but she didn't care. The smile of satisfaction covered her dusty face and she only noticed that there was an audience when the horse ceased its movements.

Lloyd clapped his hands on the other side of the fence, proud of what he had just seen. However, her attention was fixed on the man next to him. He exhaled power in his bluish look and calm expression. No one needed to report that that was Mr. John Dutton, the most influential landowner in Montana. He stared at her with a mini smile that she interpreted as something not very common to him, a smile that he released only when he was satisfied with something. Not bad for the first day, she thought.

John Dutton didn't have time to say anything about her performance — if he was going to say anything — because his attention was stolen by someone else. Ava observed a tall man, so white that he shone in the sunlight, and navy blue suit very aligned to visit a ranch. He walked in a hurry, touching the buttons of the suit in the meantime and aiming at nothing more than John's back. The rest of the world didn't seem to exist for him. Ava didn't seem to exist for him.

The man who looked like a businessman or perhaps a lawyer called John, who did not seem so happy with his arrival and walked away from the fence. The two began a quick conversation that ended in expressions that transited between worry and boredom. So, John Dutton walks away from the stables with the man in a suit. He didn't even look at Lloyd, or anything around him. His focus was just John Dutton and that intrigued Ava more than it should.

"Who was him?" She asked as soon as she got off the horse.

"He was John Dutton. Yours and our boss." Lloyd responded by collecting the stallion's stirrups.

Ava shook her head. "I know. I mean the other one, the one with the suit and tie."

"Oh! That's Jamie Dutton, John's son."

"He doesn't seem to be the son of a landowner."

Lloyd laughed as if he knew something else. "That boy always behaved as if he were more, and became more. He is the family lawyer, he graduated from Harvard and blah, blah, blah, these nonsense that you or me don't even understand."

"He really seems to be more...or want to be more." Ava thought out loud and decided to leave that subject behind, since the life of the bosses was none of her business.

But her mind wouldn't stop searching that scene and that man. Jamie Dutton. It was not a good name for a lawyer, certainly not a good one for a landowner. Still, it was a name that echoed in her mind all that day.

[grande-caps]

Yellowstone 5.07 - The Dream Is Not Me

Quality : HD Screencaptures Amount : 1.682 files Resolution : 1.920 x  1.080 px

- Please like/reblog if using!

[embarrasingmf]

What Was I Thinkin’

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: you find yourself sneaking out of bobby’s house to be with your boyfriend, dean.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k (I’m writing longer fics yay!)

WARNINGS: established relationship, early seasons dean bc I feel like he’d be more likely to do this, me trying to combine lyrics of a song into a fic (yes, that deserves a warning.)

A/N: uhh obviously this was inspired by What Was I Thinkin’ by Dierks Bentley (PLS LISTEN TO THAT AND 5-1-5-0, THEY’RE BOTH SO GOOD🙏🙏 /nf) also I know dean probably wouldn’t listen to country music but let’s js pretend for the sake of the fic!

You were lying in bed, staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling as you waited for a certain someone to throw a small pebble at your window.

When you heard the thump against your window, you immediately sprung up and looked out.

It was your boyfriend, Dean.

Well… secret boyfriend, technically. Your father, Bobby, didn’t know about you guys yet!

You always remember all the times Bobby had chewed you a new one, blabbering about how much of a bad influence Dean would be.

You didn’t think so, you saw the good in Dean, how sweet he could be despite his rough edges.

Once Dean saw your head peek through the window, a wide grin appeared on his face.

He threw you a wink before beckoning you to come to him. You nodded and quickly shut your window.

You snuck out of your bedroom, narrowly avoiding the floorboards that you knew for sure would creak and possibly wake up your father.

Sneaking out with Dean or friends in general had its perks.

That perk being knowing which floorboards to avoid and which ones to not avoid.

It took you a few extra minutes to get out the front door this time around because last time Bobby had already been awake for some odd reason and asked what you were doing up.

You quickly made an excuse, saying you were getting some water before hastily filling up a glass and retreating back to your room.

It was safe to say that you made it out of the house without any interference from Bobby.

That was until you heard him faintly cursing from inside the house, and you just knew that he saw or heard you sneak out.

You rushed over to Dean’s Impala — or *Baby* as he always called it — and swung the door open, almost ripping it off before climbing inside.

“Drive. Now!” You told Dean in a slightly panicked tone.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked over, seeing Bobby running out of the house and waving a 12-gauge.

He put Baby in drive and tore out of the junkyard and he could hear Bobby fire a few shots.

He’d have to check his tailgate later.

After speeding down the road for a bit, Dean reached over and pulled out a mixtape for you to take.

me ‘n them was the title that was messily scrawled onto it.

“What’s this?” Came your questioning voice, yet you put the mixtape into the dashboard anyway.

“It’s a mixtape I made. It’s ‘bout us.” Dean explained proudly, hitting a button on the dashboard before you heard a country song start playing.

You looked over at him, slack-jawed and eyes wide. In all the time that you know him, he never listened to country music.

“What Was I Thinkin’ by Dierks Bentley, seriously?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if Dean was in the right headspace.

“Just listen to it!” Dean assured, casting a glance in your direction. “I promise it’ll remind you about us.”

You sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat of the Impala, listening to the lyrics of the song that was playing.

She snuck out one night and met me by the front gate

Her daddy came out wavin' that 12-gauge

We tore out the drive, he peppered my tailgate

What was I thinkin'?

You scoffed at listening to the lyrics, it sounded just like what had happened moments earlier.

You reached out to turn it off, or skip the song, but Dean smacked your hand away.

“Uh-uh, you’re listening to this song whether you like it or not.” Dean chided, waving a finger in your direction. You huffed.

Oh, I knew there'd be hell to pay

But that crossed my mind a little too late

You had later noticed Dean taking a dirt path that was off the highway, but you didn’t question it. You had a vague idea on what he was planning to do.

So instead, you busied yourself with listening to the lyrics of the Dierks Bentley song that was starting to become catchy.

'Cause I was thinkin' 'bout a little white tank top

Sittin' right there in the middle by me

I was thinkin' 'bout a long kiss

Man, just gotta get goin' where the night might lead

I know what I was feelin'

But what was I thinkin'?

What was I thinkin'?

You felt the Impala jolt slightly as Dean put it in park, opening the car door and climbing out.

You climbed out as well, watching as Dean sat on the hood of Baby and glanced back at you before patting the spot next to him.

You wordlessly complied, the front of the Impala shifting and creaming under your guys’ combined weight.

Dean leaned in close, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin where your neck and shoulder met.

You chuckled, nudging Dean away before looking at him.

“Did you really take me out here just to see the stars?” Dean placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense at the prospect that you didn’t like his surprise.

“You don’t like my gift?” Dean asked, his tone full of playful accusation. “I’ll have you know that I planned this out perfectly.”

You laughed, turning back to the night sky.

“Whatever,”

Dean laughed as well, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

—————————————————————————

It wasn’t until half past two that Dean had gotten you home, and he couldn’t deny the spike of slight nervousness he felt when he saw Bobby sitting on the porch.

That stupid 12-gauge was still with him, too. It was leaning against the porch steps, almost taunting him.

To be honest, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby decided to shoot him in the chest right there and then.

But he didn’t.

Instead he slowly got up and walked over, arms crossed as he examined the two of you.

Bobby’s eyes landed on Dean, his gaze scrutinizing.

“You idjit, thinkin’ you could just make my child sneak out the house to hang out with ya?” He grunted before moving his gaze to you.

“And you.” You shifted awkwardly, swallowing down your nerves.

You were a hundred percent ready for your father to demand that you stop seeing Dean, even if it’d break your heart.

“I can tell you really like this idjit,” Bobby admitted with a sigh, his arms dropping to the side. “So I’ll let this whole thing slide.”

You felt relief hit you like a freight train, your eyes lighting up with a hint of hope.

“Really?”

Bobby nodded, “Yup. Just make sure to tell me if you’re gonna sneak out later in the night so I don’t almost have a heart attack worryin’ about you.”

You laughed quietly, looking over at Dean.

“Okay, dad.”

Bobby gave a small smile before he walked back inside.

You turned to Dean, smiling at him. “Well, I’ll see ya next time you arrange a date for us.

Dean smirked, “you bet.”

You stepped closer before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

Dean’s smirk fell into a giddy smile before he pulled you in for a proper kiss on the lips.

Soon after, he watched you run back inside as you waved wildly at him in goodbye before the front door closed behind you.

—————————————————————————

tags<3 : @ryvkkr