#black-throated mango

[lowcountry-gothic]

Black-throated mango (Anthracothorax nigricollis) in Colombia. Photo by Oscar Avila.

[rondaincorporated]

Hummingbird Species, Part 2

Today’s spotlight is the black-throated mango, Anthracothorax nigricollis. Introduction: The world is blessed with a diverse array of bird species, each possessing its unique charm and characteristics. Among these fascinating creatures, the black-throated mango hummingbird (Anthracothorax nigricollis) stands out as an exquisite example of nature’s intricate creations. This essay delves into the…

[spinus-pinus]

Black-throated Mango Anthracothorax nigricollis

7/12/2024 Caldas, Codombia

brewmaster via iNaturalist, CC-BY-NC

[proton-wobbler]

Battle Royale

Family Reunion (C-3)

Some families are more popular than others, you know? It's a miracle there wasn't a submission for ever single corvid that's ever existed. Instead, we have these guys.

[st4rbwrry]

STICKY ☆ eren yeager.

☆. warnings ~ 2.8k. fem!reader, black coded, self pleasure, eren gives us a massage w oil, blowjob, dj on the clit, unedited, kissing, praise, pet names dnt feel like listing, vulgar language, teasing, mention of cycle, dry humping, titty sucking, neck kisses, minors do not interact! reblogs & comments are appreciated.

because this just happened to me and i had no choice but to write it. but imagine eren giving you a full body rub down massage with some shea butter scented baby oil while the two of you watch crime documentaries on netflix. it’s playing soundlessly in the background while the two of you lay comfortably on the black velvet sectional sofa in your cozy studio apartment. it’s raining outside, nighttime nearing. your home smells like salted lemon meringue pie; a candle eren bought for you because he said it reminded him of you.

warm, soft, and sweet. the two of you are cuddling together on the long part of the couch, eren completely pressed up against your left side slowly rubbing your ass in circles under your fuzzy pink blanket. you’re so into your show, sipping on a can of mango arizona, only dressed in an oversized anime tshirt and a pair of pink lace panties printed with hearts that matched the bralette underneath your shirt. he can’t stop touching you. leaning his head on your shoulder, his legs spread out in his gray sweats before his hands sink lower under your blanket to knead into the soft flesh of your hips. delicately working his way up your spine with the points of his thumbs to rub out any tense muscles. you can’t help but giggle at his move, smiling into your hair and biting your lip the higher his hands rise.

massaging your back, hands slipping underneath your bralette as he chews on his pouty lips and scrunch his eyebrows in a focused manner. intent on making you feel good. he knows you’ve been working hard so your body’s been a bit heavy. and you’re dreading heading to work tomorrow morning. so he wanted to ease that stress, as well as the hard-on he’d gotten in his sweats just from the faint moans falling past your pretty lips.

“take this off,” his voice his deep, sultry in its tone and he can’t help it. it drips off his tongue like honey. touching you has his body on fire.

dropping your phone you had picked up to check a text from your best friend, you do as he says, lifting your shirt so you’re left only in your cute lingerie set. eren stands to his full height and clears his throat as he fixes his dick in his sweats. he had to mentally remind himself that you’re ending your cycle and you aren’t really in the mood to have sex. but fuck you’re making it hard looking and sounding like that. you stare with a mischievous grin, following him as he walks towards your bathroom to find your body oil. he comes back, pushing your coffee table back so he can crouch on the floor before you.

“c’mon, lay on your stomach.”

and you’re doing just that. snuggling a neon pink easter bunny plushie close to your face for leverage. eren hums to himself, eyeing your backside as he squirts oil into his big palm and massages them together before rubbing your body down gently. he’s targeting every curve, muscle, tense area. heavy hands gliding across your brown skin with ease. he even uses his forearms and elbows to get those spots like a real masseuse. you’re moaning from how good it feels, shifting in your spot.

eren notices a inconvenience and says. “i need this off too, babe.”

he’s referring to your bralette. you laugh lightly, making a comment about how he’s trying to be nasty when you told him no. he says he promises it isn’t like that. both of you knowing damn well that it’s like that. throughout your princess treatment that you were grateful for, needing it so bad, eren begins to get bold. rubbing his palms over your ass and thick thighs, and then in between. this is torture for you considering your period was a big cockblock. she’s ending but you’re in that spotting phase that goes on and off. and you didn’t have time to check before his little teaser. your hormones were everywhere. being away from him for a full week, no dick, no head, eren’s consistent fucking with you knowing you can’t do anything . . . it’s all pent up. you needed a release so bad. and he’s playing games right now. slyly pulling your underwear down, eren saying ‘relax’ when you get too antsy before rolling and kneading your ass cheeks.

“erenn, stop,” his name comes out airy. your face is planted flat into the couch as your eyes loses their focus and your lower halve begins to ache.

“you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”

and he’s fucking right, you really don’t. you whine, twisting your ass side to side. eren chuckles and slips your panties back up, finishing with the back of your thighs giving you time to breathe with relief. until he’s back again, spreading your legs a little more so he can get into between to touch your pussy. long fingers rushing over your clothes clit, fabric becoming damper from your uncontrolled arousal. how could he make something so intimate instantly nasty? the man can’t focus on one task. his brain switches like a fuse. hissing to himself, he rubs your hardened clit in circles, taking his time, not wanting to get you too riled up. he couldn’t fuck you after all.

your face curls up in pleasure, breathing his name again, your hair covering your view of his face. hips grinding against his hand and gripping your plushie tighter. he smacks your ass a few times, loves to watch it bounce even in the dark living room you currently reside in. eren drags his right hand up your entire backside before placing it on the back of your neck to choke you, not too hard, just enough to hold you still. he’s leaning down, bringing his face mouth to your ear and breathing like a feral animal. spanking you over and over to hear you whimper and whine. squirming in your spot with annoyance when he removes his hand from your cunt, hot and needing more attention immediately.

“okay i’m done,” he announces, rubbing the remaining oil into his own skin and smiling like a cocky bastard. you groan with irritation, shoving your face into your plushie as he stands and laughs like an asshole.

“fuck you, bro.”

“you can’t, remember.”

he’s really testing you. now is not the time to test you. he takes a seat beside you after you advert your attention back onto your show, resting your chin in your palm and purposely ignoring him. titties all out and everything. eren spreads his longs legs as wide as they go, your eyes catching the tint in his crotch. he’s got his arm thrown on the headrest of the couch, looking down at you without your knowledge just to see what you would do. he wants his dick in your mouth so bad. if your willing to do it is the question that remains. it’s not really about him right now, is what your thinking. you gave him the sloppiest head literally yesterday before he had to leave for work, cum and salvia covering your face as you gagged and sucked him off like he’d run away. attempted? definitely. he couldn’t stop moaning and squirming away. especially when you overstimulated him after he nutted, cum shooting in your left eye mind you, risking a damn pink eye for his satisfaction. and he can’t grant you this one thing? you didn’t even want him to fuck you. you just wanted him to touch you.

so you know what you do? you turn your body clockwise to face him, looking up at him as he avoids eye contact and keeps them at the projector on your wall.

“i hate you,” you start with, shifting your hips so he can watch your ass move. you touch his stomach over his hoodie, the man still dressed from earlier when the two of you ran out to get food and came back to get lazy and watch horror movies. not really horror. it was it follows, side note, horrible film.

“why?”

“because you know i can’t fuck you right now, so you’re teasing me.”

“mhm,” he tongues his inner cheek, jade eyes catching your swiftly before redirecting them back to the show. “be a good girl.”

“don’t wanna,” you pout, lifting your upper body to press your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and eren immediately succumbs to you. it’s the most sensitive area on his entire body, other than his hips. he hissed and tosses his head back.

“stop,” he grumbles, but you don’t listen. rolling your neck to catch every inch of his neck with your lips. “stop.”

when he says it that time it’s stern, eren locking your neck in his grasp as he clenches his jaw, dick hard as fuck. he knocks his knees in and out, staring your pretty face down, a smile all over it. unable to contain it, he kisses you. sloppy and with tongue. your hands smoothing down to his crotch to palm the outline of his dick. eren inhales deeply, reaching between your heated thighs to rub your clit again through your panties. gasping, you lift your left leg to give him better access. grinding against his hand as he watches your face churn with contentment.

“gonna be a good girl now?” he taunts, you nod your head that now lays in the crook of his neck, moaning and kissing him still. he’s loosing his self control at this point. your tits are pressed together as you grip the back pillow of the couch and ride his hand, squealing and whimpering. your sounds take over him and he’s soon pulling his sweats to sit at his knees, heavy cock slapping at his abdomen, a clear pearl of pre sitting at the tip.

his hand swerves to the back of your neck to turn your head and push your face to his lap where his dick sat, hard and needy. honestly, your not in the mood to suck dick, your jaw going sore yesterday . . . but for your man, you’ll do anything.

“don’t care what you say,” he shifts up a little so you have better access. “suck on it.”

only your mouth encases his cock, hands clutching his hoodie, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper and suck hard just like he loves. focusing mostly on the tip because it makes him twitch and you love that reaction more than anything. love when he’s moaning ‘fuck’ or ‘fuck me, baby’ cause it makes you feel good inside. while your head bobs he continues to fuck you with his fingers, reaching inside your panties this time to toy with your clit better. eren comes to his senses and realizes if this proceeds he’s going to fuck you real bad. he swears to god he’s ready to lay a towel down and say fuck it forreal. but he knows it’s not something you’re comfortable with.

“c’mere, princess,” he speaks to you in that low, listen to me tone. you let his dick go with a sloppy pop, swallowing the remainder of spit in your mouth before leveling your face with his, batting your lashes and pushing your matted hair out the way. “do me a favor and cum for me, okay?”

“ ‘kay,” nodding your head mindlessly, eren gets lost in pleasing you again, wrapping his hand around his dick to stroke it while he finger fucks you. nothing compares to when you do it, though. you’ve ruined him, honestly. but he wants to keep it hard for you ‘cause he knows you want it after.

he notices your breath hitching, placing your hand over his when he loses his position and tries to sink his fingers in but you really want him to stay on your clit. you’re about to cum, he also knows because your burying your face in his neck and nodding frequently after he asks, “you cummin’ , princess?”’

“y-yess, m’cummin!” squeaks and mewls stream out of you and he swears it’s the prettiest thing every time you do it. eren latches his mouth back onto yours, groaning as he stops stroking his dick and shoves his tongue in your mouth. your hands have a death grip on his wrist as your thighs enclose his forearm to stop him, already sore.

“there we go, that’s my girl,” he kisses your forehead after, letting you take a moment to calm down before he’s coming up with another attack. doesn’t even give your five full minutes before he’s telling you to get up. and you sulk, whining because you don’t want to move.

“noooo,” you pout at him but he’s not hearing it, grabbing your arms and picking you up to place you on the edge of the sectional. he’s on his knees again before you, dragging you closer so your ass nearly hangs off and intertwines perfectly with his hips. “trying so hard not to fuck you.”

stretching your arms above you, you giggle like your drunk, playfully telling him to get off of you but of course he doesn’t listen. eren’s hovering his big figure above yours, bringing his head down to dart his thick tongue out and drag it slowly over your left nipple, soon latching his cotton candy lips around the bud and sucking. pulling it along as he rotates his head and moans with his eyes shut. you let him do as he pleases, always intrigued when he gets into his moments. as he’s sucking on your chest that’s when he starts grinding his hips forward to fuck against you. the bulge in his sweats rut on your clit waking it up for round two.

“fuck this,” eren makes a pained noise as he tugs his sweats down to reveal his cock again, scooting closer and sitting higher to position it right on your soaked clit he slaps with the tip a few times, dark eyes eyeing you as you bite your lip and moan like a slut from that little play.

eren’s placing your legs over his shoulders, like he loves to do, arching over you so your knees are close to your shoulders. he makes sure your thighs stay closed so the pressure on his dick feels better for friction. he begins to lick up your chest, trailing up to your neck where he laps his tongue and follows with kisses, fucking with you just like you did with him. you’re just as sensitive there. tossing your head back and moaning, gripping onto his shirt since he removed his hoodie, rolling your eyes back. and it gets worse when he starts ramming his dick like he’s actually fucking you. he’s following the bounce of your tits while he rolls his hips and fucks his dick on your sluice folds drinking in the fabric of your panties. your thighs making this feel so much fucking better. it feels good for you too.

“fuck, ma,” eren smacks the outside of your thigh, grunting and hastening his pace, skin slapping and it’s all making your mind hazy. “got me feelin’ like this without bein’ deep in your pussy.”

“erennn, you look so good,” it slips from your mouth without your own permission. you made a mental comment about how good he looks fucking you right now. long hair messy around his face, silver rings on his digits along with spiky or cuban link bracelets on his wrist. ink tatted on various parts of his body. his perfect white teeth sinking into his bottom lip. he’s too fucking handsome. and he’s all yours.

“i look good, huh baby?” he chuckles between a strangled moan, brows creasing.

“unh huh,” you huff out, reaching up to caress his face in your dainty hands.

“you look fuckin’ better,” his eyes turn white as your body rolls somewhat to your right side, eren able to hit it from the side, this position constricting his dick tighter, pounding harder. “fuck, n’ it’s gonna make me nut jus’ lookin’ at you.”

“keep looking,” you bite your lip and keep your face to his, the two of you breathing in each others air. “stare at me when you cum. wanna watch your face.”

“fuck,” it’s crazy what you do to him. because not even a few seconds later he’s shooting cum right on your tummy and it’s a lot, keeps going as he shudders and keeps his eyes on yours like you wanted. he’ll bite his lip off at some point with how much force he’s applying. might even get a headache from his eyes turning white. it’s all worth it though.

you smile like you’ve made the biggest achievement, curling your hands up into a ball and planting your cheek on it, falling back with a dreamy sigh. he’s the prettiest, and he’s all yours.

“i hate you,” eren runs his hands through his hair with a deep laugh, his dick still unable to stop leaking cum. he smacks your thigh again. “fuckin’ hate you.”

“you started it.”

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[seouljazzbar]

𓆙 watermelon sugar — lee jihoon ★ .ᐟ

summary - “blowjobs are called jobs for a reason but going down on your girl is called eating out because it's a privilege” or your boyfriend just wants to eat you out word count - 1.3k warning - pussy worship, bed humping, slight dirty talk, oral + fingering (both f. recieving), jihoon cums all over himself poor baby — MINORS DNI! 18+ author’s note: i haven’t written fic in a while so here’s to me getting back to it! this is a refresh of an old fic i wrote but with a little polishing! something short and sweet for my woozi girls warnings: just a thousand words on jihoon eating pussy word count: 1.2k

There was something so alluring about seeing you fresh out of the bathtub. Your hair pulled away from your face, skin glowing in its post-cleanse state, hints of mango and chamomile wafting off of your body as you lathered lotion all over yourself. You’d had a long day and decided to treat yourself to a soak in the bath, all of your favorite products used generously in the seething hot water as you played music from your speakers.

Jihoon watched from your bed, eyes shifting between his phone screen and the indent of your spine as you sat at your vanity. Watching the way the black slip adorned your figure as you slid it on carefully, adjusting the straps the way you needed them to be. He didn’t want to interrupt you, knowing how much you loved your ‘me time’, especially after a long day dealing with your asshole of a boss. You looked so peaceful as you moisturized your face, humming along to snoh aalegra instead of singing because you didn’t know all of the words.

“Did you want me to order something for dinner? I would’ve already but I wasn’t sure if you ate and I didn't wanna disrupt your bath.”

You smiled at him sweetly, swiping a layer of balm to your lips before joining him atop your duvet. “I could go for some food, yeah.” You turned on Netflix on the TV, shuffling through the popular section to find something new for the two of you to watch. His gazing in wonderment at you staggered your focus, causing you to look over at him quizzically. “Everything okay?”

“More than,” He scooted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your midsection as he kissed you delicately, not daring to deepen it like he was scared to break you. “You’re just so beautiful, it’s hard not to stare.”

Your relationship with Jihoon was still fairly new. Navigating intimacy still made you bashful, and his eyes focused on you in such close proximity still made you want to hide from him. Your heart fluttered as the feeling of his breath on your face hit, his smile obvious in your peripheral as you averted your eyes in sheepishness. That warm fuzzy feeling was back, your face all prickly as the scent of his cologne washed over you again.

You leaned closer to kiss him again, tasting your own strawberry balm on his lips before your tongue ventured into his mouth. You held back the moan that bubbled in your throat as his hands lowered to your ass, squeezing the flesh seamlessly before you pulled away. “I think dinner can wait a minute.”

He chuckled against your lips, rolling you over to lay on your back as he propped himself up on his forearms. “Who told you you could look this good?” His lips littered kisses across the expanse of your neck and collarbones, your giggles music to his ears as he migrated your warm skin. Your hands gripped at the waistband of his sweats, fully prepared to tug them down his legs until he stopped you. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I just thought, you know, I could help you out.”

Jihoon shook his head, hiking your slip up to your waist to expose your thin cotton panties to him. “I’m not worried about that right now, I just wanna taste you.”

Your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as he licked his lips, moving so that he was laid comfortably in between your legs. You pushed your knees together to shield yourself from his line of vision, smoothing your slip back down your legs. “But I haven't shaved in a few days.”

“Baby, I'm a grown ass man. Now open up.” He discarded your panties, lugging you closer to his face as his hands enveloped your thighs. His tongue was hot as it pressed against your clit, slowly dragging up the nerve endings before swirling around it. You squirmed at the pleasure that rippled through you, hands clutching onto the duvet as his tongue dipped into your hole. He hummed against you, eyes rolling back at the taste he’d been craving since you invited him over. “So so good.”

The soles of your feet pressed against his back as he continued to explore your core, fingers trailing delicately along your hips as you refused to keep still. “Oh, my god, right there.”

“Feel good, baby?” He smirked more so to himself as he curled a finger into you, relishing in the hitch of your breath and the relocation of your hands to his hair as you pulled at it desperately.

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter shut as your head fell back against the pillows. You’d normally feel a bit embarrassed by the loud squelching noises your body was making as Jihoon’s fingers kneaded your g-spot, but it felt so good that you forced yourself to bask in it. “I’m almost there, Jihoon, fuck.”

“Let go, baby, give it to me.”

The tension in your stomach snapped as he added another finger, tongue still working your clit as your legs clamped around his head. His pace was unrelenting even when you tried to push him away, trying to rush out that you were done. “I-I came already, I’m too sensitive.”

He pulled away momentarily, wiping at his mouth as he looked up at you. “I'm not finished with you yet though.” Your taste stained his tongue in a way that he couldn’t get enough of, eager for more with each lick of your folds. He was absolutely addicted to you in a way you weren't used to and it surprised you every single time. “Taste yourself.”

Jihoon replaced his mouth with his fingers, digging his palm into your clit as his fingers pumped inside of you at just the right speed. He hovered over you as he kissed you, licking into your mouth so you could taste yourself in all your glory. You moaned quietly, followed by a whimper as he withdrew his hand from your heat. His fingers tapped at her mouth and you opened immediately, licking them clean of your own arousal without him having to tell you to.

He settled back between your legs and dove right back in without missing a beat, making your thighs shake around him in no time. He flattened his tongue between your folds as he shook his head, bringing that ball of tension back to your belly as his fingers slipped right back into you. You hadn’t even noticed that his hips were grinding into the mattress, humping in time with the rhythm of his fingers as he worked you through your second orgasm. “I don't think I can take a third.”

“Yes, you can, baby.”

His thumb rubbed circles around your clit as his tongue and fingers thrusted into you, stretching out your walls as your hips bucked uncontrollably. Profanities fell from your lips as you gripped his hair tighter, back arching at an alarming angle as you came all over his tongue for the third time. He moaned into you loudly, his grip on your legs deathly as his hips stalled their movements.

You struggled to come back down to earth, your breathing rough and ragged as Jihoon padded off to get you a towel doused in warm water. Your lips just barely muttered out a ‘thank you’ as he cleaned you up, grazing over the insides of your thighs that were sure to be sore in the morning. “It's your turn.”

Jihoon stuttered as he disappeared back into the bathroom, coming back with a towel wrapped around his hips instead of his sweats. “I, um. I’m good, actually.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized why he was good, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “O-oh, you already… Got it.”

“Eating you out just really turns me on.”

[menagerofmischief]

Dia's Diner (closed)

diner is closed for catch up as I have too many unwritten orders, time of return unknown

Welcome to Dia's Diner, here you'll be able to order your meal (fic) with as many specifications and dishes as you want. We hope you leave satisfied ;)

first step is choosing who you want your fic to be about, so pick a server (you can even pick two)

SERVERS:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Lewis Hamilton 

George Russel

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Daniel Riccardo

Alex Albon

Fernando Alonso

Franco Collapinto 

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Ollie Bearman

Kimi Antonelli

Mick Schumacher

Arthur Leclerc

Sebastian Vettel

Mark Webber

Jenson Button

Nico Rosberg

Toto Wolff

every good meal starts with an appetizer, by choosing your appetizer you're setting the main trope of the fic

STARTERS:

charcuterie board (dating)

artichoke dip (brother’s friend)

olives and cheese (friends to lovers)

stuffed cherry tomatoes (sugar daddy)

hummus nachos (teammates)

shrimp cocktail (rivals to lovers)

and how you want it served

HOT OR COLD: 

hot appetizer (sweet sex) 

cold appetizer (rought sex) 

now it's time to order the main dish, feel free to choose as many as you want

MAINS:

lobster (“I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy”)

caviar and oysters (“Gonna look so good full of my babies”)

fish and chips (“Where are your manners?”)

steak (“Made just for me. My pretty little cocksleeve”)

burger and fries (“Hurts? That’s too bad baby, should have thought about it before being such a slut”)

buffalo wings (“Count them for me”)

ramen (“What would your brother think if he saw us?”)

gyros (“Gonna fill you up”)

full english (“My pretty little slut”)

pizza (“My good girl”)

pesto pasta (“Slow down, you just told me to speed up. What’s it gonna be silly girl?”)

carbonara (“Look so good on my cock”)

sausage rolls (“I’ll make it fit”)

sushi (“Better quiet down, you don’t want them to hear us.)

tacos (“I’m gonna give you an attitude check”)

chicken quesadilla (“So pretty with my cock down your throat”)

crab cakes (“Yeah, gonna swallow like a good girl?”)

chicken nuggets (“Couldn’t help being a brat, could you?”)

kimchi (“Be a good girl and take it”)

tomato soup (“Running away from my dick? I don’t think so.”)

cheese fries (“I love making you squirt”)

stuffed potato (“Just where you belong … on your knees for me”)

sarma (“Gonna put a baby in you”)

moussaka (“You look your best covered in my cum”)

caesar salad (“Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next”)

chicken skewer (“Be a good girl and cum for me”)

mac and cheese (“Only good girls get to cum”)

mango sticky rice (“Next time you try that shit I’ll make him watch while I fuck you”)

chicken fingers (“Yeah, you like being filled in both ends like a slut”)

butter chicken rice (“If you want it then you better beg for it”)

eggs and bacon ("Are you gonna stop moving or am I gonna hold you down?")

spring rolls ("All you do is complain, perhaps I should shut you up")

sloppy joe ("You have the prettiest mouth. Why don't you put it to good use?")

kebab ("Look at that my cock is splitting you in half")

grilled cheese ("I buy you nice things and then I get to fuck you in them. Sounds fair to me")

pot roast ("You going to let me take my anger out on you, sweetheart?")

chili ("Look at you humping my thigh like a bitch in heat")

california rolls ("Scream my name - I want everyone to know who's making you feel this good)

PB&J ("Look at him while I make you cum")

dumplings ("Ride this cock - it's your cock")

black pudding ("There we good, you're such a good girl, taking you punishment so well")

smoked salmon ("My good girl deserves a reward")

fish tacos ("Just lie back and let me take care of you")

seafood boil ("Maybe I'll make a mix tape of your moans to listen to while I drive")

spaghetti with meatballs ("Why don't you put on that pretty little set I bought for you?")

veggie burger ("Feel how hard you make me")

hot dog ("Thought about you while touching myself. The real things is much better")

ratatouille ("I'll mark you up so much no man will dare talk to you again")

bacon pancakes ("I love when you wear dresses. It's so easy to flip it up and fuck you")

chicken alfredo ("You haven't been very good, have you? And you know what happens to bad girls")

avocado toast ("Look at you all dumb and crying on my cock")

lasagna ("Where did all that cockiness go now that it's time to take your punishment?)

gnocchi ("You like when I treat you like a toy, don't you?)

mashed potatoes and gravy ("You had no problem getting fucked in here like a slut. Then you should have no problem walking out there with my cum dripping down your legs")

having a drink with your dish really elevates the experience, drinks represent different kinks

DRINKS:

ice tea (oral giving/receiving)

sweet tea (morning sex)

mint tea (body worship giving/receiving)

redbull (filming sex)

vodka redbull (squirting)

white claw (pegging)

white wine (sir kink)

red wine (daddy kink)

rose (spanking)

champagne (threesome)

old fashioned (drunk sex)

whiskey (double penetration)

mai thai (mirror sex)

cosmopolitan (temperature play)

beer (bondage)

root beer (blindfold)

apple cider (spitting)

apple juice (edging)

orange juice (overstimulation)

pineapple juice (wax play)

boba (anal)

smoothie (hickeys)

matcha (toys)

vanilla milkshake (nipple play)

hot chocolate (dry humping)

chocolate milk (thigh riding)

espresso (dom/sub)

black coffee (chocking)

mocha coffee (degradation)

pumpkin spice latte (losing virginity)

fanta (size kink)

coca-cola (somnophillia)

coke zero (free use)

pepsi (car sex)

lemonade (public sex)

strawberry lemonade (breeding)

coconut water (jealous sex)

sparkling water (phone sex)

iced water (dirty talk)

to end the night you might consider getting a dessert, in this case dessert is aftercare

DESSERT: 

yes (aftercare included) 

no (aftercare not included)

special instructions: tell me your favorite track/race at the end of your request and I'll throw you in a freebie on the house that goes best with your order

Thank you for visiting! Here at Dia's Diner your pleasure is our priority, so be on the look out for new additions to our menu. Come back again.

A/N: I'm so grateful for each and every one of your requests, but I just ask that you be patient about waiting for it since I don't have much free time because of school.

[laiiaaa]

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE — CARMEN BERZATTO 1. BUTTERSCOTCH — you finally say hello to a familiar face in the city after a little girl bumps into you. (2.7k) masterlist | next | taglist

Carmen keeps track of the running grocery list in his head:

Green onions? Check. Shallots? Check. Rolled oats? Check.

“Alright,” he huffs into the phone, a stupid thing tucked snug between his shoulder and jaw.

“Carm, I’m serious—”

“Nat, I got it, alright? I’ll call the fuckin’ guy.” Strawberries? Check. Eggs? Check. “I’m at the store, ‘n I’ll be back, ‘n then I’ll call him. It’s fine.” Dino nuggets? Check. That way-too-sugary cereal Sofia likes—? Even though he wishes Richie never gave it to her—? Check, check, check, so fuckin’ checked. “Now, do you wanna talk to—”

He looks to his side, where Sofia once stood with chubby little fingers hooked on the cart, that raggedy old stuffed animal always caught in the other fist. Gone. Carmen’s heart stops and catches in his throat. 

Natalie’s voice again, much quieter now that the phone’s not at his ear. “Hello?”

He doesn’t even hear his sister, doesn’t process her words.

He turns around. “Sof?” But she’s not there.

He tries again, facing forward, a little louder. “Sofia?” Nothing. “Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, ending the call without a second thought. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—” 

He shoves his phone into his pocket, abandons the cart altogether, pokes his head into the aisle over. “Sofia.” Nothing. “Shit—”

He can’t breathe. A closed fist shoots to his chest to try and soothe the droughted ache. The ceiling’s closing in from above, every aisle looks the same, his feet are too heavy to carry him fast enough through the store.

Where’s his fuckin’ kid?

You’re spooked out of a fatigued trance by a clumsy little girl at your feet in the produce section. 

She can’t be older than four, her chubby little face framed by golden brown curls, dressed in a cute little black dress and pink tights, ballet flats to boot. By her hand is a well-loved stuffed animal: an orange tabby cat with lint fuzzies along its body, teetering on the edge of the display about to fall into the lettuce.

���Well, hello,” you start.

She peeks up at you through stray curls with a grin. “Hi.”

You do a quick scan of the immediate area but spot nothing other than a worker stocking bananas twenty feet away, another pushing a cart of mangoes. “Where’d you come from, hm?” You perch down next to her and try to offer a warm smile to keep her calm.

“I’m here with my daddy.”

“Yeah? Where’s he at?”

Her lips, shiny with drool, puff into a pout. “I…” Her little voice wobbles, and you know that fucking wobble, that precursor to something uncontrollable and wretched, and for a split second you consider letting her cry, just on the off chance her dad hears it.

But you come to your senses: it’ll take all but five, no more than ten minutes to cover the entire store ground. You graze your hand by her back and offer her the sorry excuse for a cat. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s alright. I’ll help you.”

“B-But…” Those pretty brown eyes of her turn glassy, ready for tears, and her lip quivers, her cheeks puff out.

“I’ll help you find him, okay? We’ll wait right here, and I promise he’ll find you. We won’t leave this spot til he does.”

She hesitates before she nods, gives you a warbled, “Okay.”

You give her your name—something you read or heard from word of mouth, how putting a name to your face makes you more trustworthy. “What’s yours?”

“...Sofia.”

“Sofia,” you repeat. “That’s a very pretty name.”

The dimples that come through with her smile have you swooning, your chest filling with something sweet. A supercut you’ve long since abandoned flits through one of the best and worst years you’ve endured: kisses at the door for hello and goodbye, chilly Chicago mornings spent in someone else’s sheets, serving coffee in thick handmade mugs and being thanked for it with lips pressed to your cheek. But that was a year ago, and it’s long gone. You’re better off now—occupied with work, and running a business, and trying new things, and finding comfort in the solitude of an apartment that’s filled with nothing but the smell of coffee grounds.

Your pointer finger lifts her toy’s head: “And who’s this?”

“Butterscotch,” she says, Butter sounding a whole lot like Buttah.

“Yeah? Where’d you come up with that name?”

“My daddy’s a chef, he teached it to me.”

A chef, you hum, No wonder he’s here at seven in the morning.

And you do just about everything you’d want someone to do if this were your kid: you keep her right where she is like you promised her, you listen to all her stories she has with Butterscotch, you answer the silly questions she asks while she holds your finger in a squishy hand and bears a gummy smile.

Until—

A man wrought with stress approaches. Fitted white tee, loose denim on his hips, beat up Nikes that’ve probably seen better days. Golden brown curls like the little girl’s, only thicker, darkened with age, and half-straightened, probably from the way he runs his fingers through them like he does as he walks toward you and the girl. Buff arms, built shoulders, and they’re littered with tattoos…

Not what you expected. And he looks so fucking familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it—

“Sofia,” he huffs, and she scurries over to him in tiny yet quickened steps and jumps into his arms, his eyes closing and brows furrowing with a relief that’s palpable as he tucks his nose into her swirling hair. “What’d I tell you about comin’ to the store w’me, huh?” A veiny hand with the letters S O U inked on the fingers cups the back of her head as he sways her from side to side, failing to give her much of a stern look at all despite his frustration. “You gotta stay by my side, I told you, you’ll get lost.”

“But I wasn’t lost, Daddy,” she pouts, “I was right here, and—and I had to find Butterscotch, and you—you weren’t there—”

“Okay,” he soothes, rubbing his hand along her back before he thumbs away budding tears from her fleshy cheeks. “Okay, hon…” He props her at his hip. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You just scared me ‘s all, alright? Didn’t know where you were, had me lookin’ all over for you.”

“...I’m sorry,” she mumbles, clearly upset, nuzzling into her dad’s shoulder as he presses a sweet kiss to her head.

He looks to you, then, and you lend him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about her, she’s, uh…” He peeks at her, so lovingly— “She can be a handful sometimes.”

“No, don’t apologize, she was great.” Your eyes drift to his hands. They’re big, strong, like he knows what to do with them around the house, with a baby girl...with her mother, too, though you wonder where that stands. You try not to. “She’s talkative, makes for a fun conversation. A great storyteller, too.”

He smiles, and it’s hearty, with a twitch of a brow as he draws just a bit closer—it’s slight, so slight you almost think you’re imagining things. “Think so? She doesn’t usually, um…doesn’t usually wanna talk to people, y’know?” He hikes her up again, and she turns so that she’s facing you. “Get all grumpy, don’t ya, Sof? Like with your Uncle Richie?”

“But she’s nice,” she chimes in, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaving the cat’s head peeking through. “Not mean like he is.”

Again with that smile, he looks at her with raised brows, bobs her up and down as he holds her tight, like she’s his entire world. “Yeah?” He shoots you back a look, half-impressed. “You don’t wanna see him today, huh?”

“No,” she grumbles, face smushed into his tee. “Can she come to work with us instead?”

“Sof…” He scoffs, cocking his head to the side, and his eyes dart between you and his girl. “That’s not—we can’t just—”

“Pretty please, Daddy…” She pouts at him, pulls on his neck with her arms looped around it, starts trying to lean back to stir up trouble but his hands hold her firm to his torso. “You said Eva and Vivi can’t play today…”

“I—I know, hon— . . . It’s just— . . .” Kissing his teeth, he contemplates for a moment. “She probably has work to do, y’know? Just like I have to work? And how sometimes you can’t come with me?”

“Where does she work?”

“Uhhh…” In an awkward pause, he seems to realize the dilemma. The expectant glance your way is almost painful. “Shit,” he hisses, holding Sofia with one hand to run fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, I should’ve—I should introduce myself, right?” The pained look on his face makes you think the question is genuine, and he offers his right hand to you— “I’m Carmen, but, um, most people just call me Carmy.”

It clicks: He’s Carmen Berzatto. Not just some guy or some chef in the grocery store you’ve happened to meet, but the guy. The guy who owns the fine dining joint across the street from your cafe; the guy who showed up to the city a few years ago only to revamp his family-owned sandwich shop in its entirety; the guy you’d heard so much about from the gossip around the block between vendors; the guy who left his roots to be something so much bigger than anyone could’ve imagined; the guy who came back with a reputation with none to rival and a shattered family in its shadow. The prodigal son of Chicago. You heard of him but never met.

“Y-Yeah, right, right,” you nod, stumbling for the right words. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.” You take his hand graciously as you give him your name. His handshake is firm, solid, sure of himself, with a callused palm and dry skin and cracked knuckles, an inked-on hand with a knife through its palm on the back of his hand. “You own The Bear, right?”

“I do.” Sheepish, like it’s embarrassing to be successful.

“Cool, cool, I’ve, um, I’ve heard a lot of good things about it, but I’ve never been.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Something warm in your belly comes to the surface and you try to drown it. “I own the cafe across the street—? Just a, uh, a smaller place—” You shake your head as if to dismiss the thought of him even knowing about it. “I dunno if—”

“No, no, yeah, I know that one, a few doors down—” he nods, fervently— “Etta’s, right?”

You smile. He knew of it so quick, with so little detail you want to think it means something. “Yeah, that’s the one.” For fuck’s sake, the guy probably just likes to support his local businesses. Get a grip.

“My sister loves that place, goes there all the time. But I, uh…” A soft smile at his girl. “I don’t usually have much time to go myself…”

“Yeah, I can imagine you’re pretty busy with her.” Unless her mom is in the picture…?

But he doesn’t take the bait—he only smiles, hums with a subtle nod, gives Sofia a pat on the back to get her attention, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hey, cub, guess what?”

She comes to only slightly, with pale blonde locks like angel’s hair tickling Carmen’s neck. Grumbles something akin to a Hm?

“You know those chocolate chip muffins you like? The ones your Aunt Natalie gets for you?”

Her curls are already caught in her eyelashes. “With the sparkles on top?”

He gives you a knowing look: sugar, not sparkles. “Yes, with the sparkles. Did you know our new friend here runs that shop?”

Her head perks up with a gasp. “What?” Her excitement is so soft, and she can’t even stave off a smile now, tiny teeth shining through to show the dimples in her cheeks again.

“You heard me.”

From her mouth is only a whisper, a doe-eyed look targeted right at you. “No way.”

You smile at her. “Yes way.”

She puts on those puppy dog eyes, looks at Carmen with a pout as she tugs on him again. “Daddy, can we please—”

 In one fell swoop, his hand whisks her hair out of her face. “Uh-uh. Nice try.”

Oh, but she’s a stubborn one. “But please—”

“Not today, baby, we gotta finish shopping, hm? Then go to work?” His eyes dart to meet yours in a knowing glance, a silent apology and excuse to leave. “Maybe I’ll ask Aunt Natalie to get them for you tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

She huffs and buries herself into his neck again, turning away from you now that she’s in a surly mood.

“Okay,” he sighs, smiling to himself, and you can’t deny the comfort in seeing his little girl so cozy with him, like he’s either the only parent around, or he’s really just that good of a father—and husband, or fiancé, or boyfriend, or whatever he might be. You don’t know if you should feel guilty for wanting to pry.

The conversation lulls to a hesitant stop, like neither one of you is sure how to bid farewell—or whether you want to do so at all.

“Y’know,” he starts, with a finality to his tone, “I’ve still gotta—”

“Yeah, me too—”

“And I left the cart in the other aisle—”

“Right, right, of course—”

“And they need me at the—”

“Same here, I need to, uh—”

“Right, yeah, so um—”

“Yeah—”

“I guess I should—”

“Probably—”

“And, uh—…”

“It was nice to meet you, though,” you finish, maybe a little too enthusiastic for only having just done so minutes ago.

But if it were, Carmen doesn’t show it. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you, too. I’ll, uh…I’ll see you around.”

You offer a softened smile. “Guess so.”

And he leaves you with a curt nod before he turns around with Sofia’s face smushed into his shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck to leave Butterscotch hugged to the nape of it. That’s all you see, then: just a beaten up stuffed animal and springy golden curls as Carmen rounds the corner of the aisle, your breath gone short and face gone warm by the end of it.

Half of it, you’re sure, is the simple brevity of it all: consoling a lost child, to chatting with her father, to finding out he’s a business neighbor. And against your better judgment, the other half of it is a twinge of attraction to him.  Even though he has a kid, and he may very well be married, or at least in a relationship, and by the looks of it, stressed out of his goddamn mind…

But there’s just something about him.

The way he was worried about his daughter like he’s supposed to be, the way he holds her and dotes on her and rubs her back like it’s nothing but natural to him, the heartwarming smile that reaches his eyes just by looking at his precious girl. The hard-earned strength in his hands and arms, the symbolic imagery of his tattoos that you’ve yet to dwell upon in late night hours, the awkward demeanor about him like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to talk to you—or if he even knows how. And all this, you see in a man working down the street, a man you’ve never spoken to until today, who could be the worst person in the world for all you know.

You don’t, is the thing. You don’t know his middle name, or his favorite color, or favorite food, or where he’s even worked, really, other than here in Chicago. You don’t know if Sofia’s mother is still around, or whatever happened to her if she isn’t, or if it’s a topic he breaches freely or not at all.

You don’t know enough about him yet to judge. You don’t know much at all. You don’t know if you want to, whether it’ll send you head first into a mess of pasts not unlike the one you’ve been trying to crawl out of alone for the past grueling months, if it’d upturn all the good you’ve tried to make stick.

But if there’s one thing you do know, it’s that you want to see him again. 

And that you’ll have to make a batch or two of muffins first.

masterlist | next | taglist

@knight4xmas @ajourneyforjoy @penguin876

[sscieloz]

Alcohol teacher

Kim Minjeong x Yu Jimin

Synopsis: “My face immediately turned red, but I wasn’t drunk, though. I also had my first soju with Jimin unnie, my alcohol teacher.” — Kim Minjeong.

Warnings: dom!karina x sub!winter. you know the deal babes, lots of plot with a little smut in it. drinking, nsfw, drunk (public?) sex.

Word count: 2k

Notes: I’ve never had soju in my life. enjoy ˆˆ n gimme feedback we barely talk anymore :(

“You look too skilled doing this.” Minjeong says, watching quietly as Karina pours a small amount of liquid into two shot glasses. It doesn’t seem like much, which leaves Minjeong annoyed. She doesn’t want Karina going easy on her, even if it is indeed her first time drinking.

Her judgmental look is no strange thing to Jimin, who merely shrugs and continues her task. She smiles at Minjeong once she’s done, nose scrunching with how much she’s enjoying the situation. When Winter had gone to her and mentioned she wanted to have a night out for drinks, so she’d try them out for the first time, Karina felt like she was in heaven. The first thing she did once she woke up was to book reservations, so the whole bar would be left alone for them— this way, Minjeong would be the most comfortable to experience the drinks, and no crazy fan would bash them for being grown women drinking.

“So,” She begins her explanation, ignoring the younger girl’s irritated tone. “We’ll start simple. Here, there’s vodka. We’ll drink it all at once: it’s as easy as that.” Bringing her cup near her mouth, Karina gestures for Minjeong to do the same. Which she does, after eyeing the raven-haired girl suspiciously. “On three, ok? One, two…”

Karina’s hands gently hover over Minjeong’s chin, turning the cup upwards so the liquid flows over Winter’s throat. Karina’s fingers linger even after the cup is left empty, her touch igniting the younger girl’s skin.

Vodka burns— it tastes like fire, washing through your cells until it hits your esophagus and threatens to back its way back, clearly not welcomed. It’s an unpleasant sensation, to say the least.

Yet, the only feeling Minjeong’s brain acknowledges are Karina’s delicate hands, now tracing her collarbone. She decides, then, that her bandmate’s touches are worse than a thousand vodka doses.

“So? What’d you think?” Karina asks, eager to know Minjeong’s opinion. She bounces like a puppy, moving as much as the booth they’re seated at allows her to.

Minjeong nods, running her hands through her face to spread the flush that lingers stubbornly on her cheeks. She feels on fire; distracted, which is unlike herself. When asking Karina for guidance on learning how to drink, her intentions were nothing but serious. She has never not been the best at something, so she fully intended to be a great drinker. By that, she intended on inspecting each liquor religiously, taking mental notes and rankings over each one, so she’d know exactly which ones to make conversations about or to order at award-shows and after parties.

Her plan, now, was ruined by a tall, black-haired girl with smokey eyes and bubbly lips.

“It was ok.” Minjeong answers, smiling a little at Jimin. Despite her internal irritation, Jimin was the one to pull her back to reality, making sure she didn’t overwork herself—or just reminding Minjeong to not take things too seriously, overall. She was not entitled to be bratty and corrupt the bubbly girl. She wouldn’t.

“You’re a tough one, Minjeong-ah.” Karina says, placing two soju bottles in front of her, then. “Luckily, that was only our warm-up. The real fun starts now!”

Minjeong stares at the Blueberry and Mango Soju bottles with an uncertain gaze. Karina had let her choose, even though Minjeong could sense her getting impatient every passing second. And, because she loved to tease Karina as much as the girl enjoyed to tease her back, Minjeong picked the blueberry-flavored bottle right before Karina’s quick fingers could reach out for them.

“You’re so mean, Minjeongie.” Karina whines, resting her back in the padded seat. The younger one laughs, then, pleased to have gotten into Karina’s nerves.

“Should we eat?” Minjeong asks, as the food is placed in front of them. Karina only nods, biased as she is, opening both bottles before setting up portions for her and Minjeong.

So they drink, eat, and laugh, talking about idol life and all the gossip they hear or notice around. In a blink, their plates are empty, the soju bottles are nearly dry and their throats, raw from rambling too much. Karina orders more food, and opens new bottles— Minjeong is a strong drinker, she commented. A professional, even though it’s her first time, as it goes with everything the auburn haired girl proposes herself to do.

Minjeong has never felt better in her life. It’s as though she’s walking through clouds, lightheaded and unable to hide her loud, careless laughter. Needles prickle her skin, which makes herself grow restless. It’s the reason she stands, after a while, simply unable to keep in place.

“Minjeong-ah? What are you doing?” Karina asks, confused to see the girl walking the short way towards her seat. Her balance is not at all the resemblance of the Minjeong she usually knows; calm, collected, sweet Minjeong. No, Karina doesn’t know this daring, careless girl who is struggling to walk a straight line and launches herself into the older girl’s lap, red curls tingling in her neck.

She loves it, though.

“I don’t want that seat anymore.” She pouts. Minjeong’s eyes are stargazed, but Karina is surprised to not find them glassy or unfocused, as she stares right into the girl’s dark orbs. If anything, they’re attentive — hungry, even though they had just eaten. “Yours is much more comfortable and cozy… Change seats with me, Jimin unnie.”

Karina’s arms wrap around Minjeong’s petite frame instinctively. Her finger’s tease her collarbone once again, while her other hand scratches the skin showing between the younger girl’s crop top and skirt.

Karina laughs. “You need to get up, then, Minjeongie.”

The girl bluntly ignores her, too deep in her thoughts to listen to her unnie.

“You’re so beautiful, unnie…” Minjeong’s whisper is followed by her hands, both gripping Karina’s face rather delicately. Her touch is tender, much different from the way she squirms, pressing herself against the oldest’s thighs. “I’ve always wondered what your lips tasted like…”

Without a warning, Minjeong presses her lips against Karina’s, not a clear thought going through her head. She’s met with a closed mouth, at first — Karina’s too surprised, frozen in position to do anything, but slowly, the oldest finds herself relaxing against Minjeong’s warmth, pulling her in. Their kiss, ever so sweet, suddenly gets impatient, as they lose themselves in savoring each other.

Minjeong already feels as if she’s going to explode: her insides burn and she feels so needy it hurts. She’s aching, humping Karina’s lap like a dumb puppy. Not only the alcohol, she’s drunk with desire, too, she quickly realizes. Drunk with Karina’s sweet taste, and now so empty— without Karina touching her where she needs it the most.

She’s aching, all hot, bothered, and so impatient. It’s the reason she is so loud— or so she likes to tell herself, as an excuse, allowing Karina to grab her neck and guide her head upwards, sucking and nibbling Minjeong’s skin with her teeth as she pleases.

“You’re such a doll, Minjeongie.” Karina praises, but her words do nothing to please the girl. They only make her even more annoyed, borderline desperate.

“Unnie,” She whines, eyes half closed as her body intensifies every sensation possible, focused on driving her to madness. “Give me, now.”

Karina stops herself, too delighted to have Minjeong so desperate and pliable in her arms. How many times had she gotten herself off with the thought of Minjeong’s moans, and now she had them all for herself? It was a dream come true, and she’d enjoy every moment of it. Her fingers stop toying with the hem of the younger girls’ skirt, now far away from her thighs. It makes Minjeong scoff, annoyed.

“Give you what, Minjeongie?” Karina asks, her tone as innocent as she manages it to be, lying on her seat once again.

Minjeong pouts, now having her movements guided by Karina’s hands, gripping her hips and forcing her to a faster pace.

“W-whatever you want.” She manages to say, breathless, as she humps Karina’s thigh. “Just do it now, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Karina’s eyes never leave Minjeong’s face, with the intent of memorizing the moment forever.

The older girl’s mouth lowers, tracing wet kisses until she reaches for the hems of Minjeong’s top, watching them fall freely until the girl’s pink, rosy nipples are exposed to Jimin. Minjeong recoils, shivering due to the sudden decline of temperature. Before she can cover herself, Jimin’s mouth is on her nipple, suckling and nibbling as she gropes the other one, pinching and twisting. Her tongue traces circles around Minjeong’s skin, and she’s absolutely delighted about how responsive the girl is, squirming and trying to run from Karina’s warm, wet mouth. It makes her leave a trail of saliva down her chest, making a mess of the so-collected Kim Minjeong.

She feels Karina everywhere: from her mouth, so inviting, sure of what she’s doing and aware of how desperate she’s making Minjeong be, to her hands, now pulling Minjeong’s panties aside, so her fingers can finally meet her folds. Minjeong is drenched, Karina feels it as two of her fingers enter her folds, no warnings needed. In response, a loud, needy moan can be heard, and Minjeong lets her head fall back, mouth open and a strong grip on her bandmate’s shoulders. She’s finally full, no longer aching with emptiness or desire. Instead, Minjeong is knocked by the pleasant pleasure building up in her stomach, as Karina keeps fingering her pussy hard.

Satisfied, she stays like that: filling the empty bar with her pornographic moans as she keeps riding Karina’s thigh, thinking about nothing else but the way the friction against the leader’s pants is just perfect, aligned with the stretch on her walls, and the mouth on her breasts. It’s almost too much, but she’s unable to ask for Karina to stop, or to gown any slower. No, Minjeong’s head is filled with the urge to let go and come, nothing else. So she lets herself enjoy whatever Karina is willing to give, mind submissive and pliable.

“Does Minjeongie want to cum? Do you, doll?” Karina asks, tone innocent, even though she’s far from being so. Winter’s cunt throbs, making her gulp. Even though there are a few words being formed in her mind, she’s blank, unable to speak in any coherent sentences.

Minjeong nods, a mess of moans and whimpers, clinging onto Karina as if her life depended on it. Karina’s pace deepens, a third finger adding to the stretch of her pussy.

“Yes, p-please!” She chants, just as Karina’s thumb presses onto her clit, making her nearly cry. She feels her peak approaching her form, the combo of sensations building up to her pleasure.

Karina’s hands clutch on Minjeong’s waist so hard she’s sure it’ll bruise the girl’s skin, but she doesn't seem to care. She makes Minjeong’s pace on her thighs faster, dragging the orgasm out of her. “Do it, baby. Come on my fingers.”

Minjeong lets out a high-pitched moan at the command, feeling her body shaking as the orgasm finally has her spilling her juices in Karina’s hand. She’s breathless, hair disheveled and so sensitive— as Karina doesn’t let her stop her movement’s on the leader’s thigh. She whines, but keeps going, though. Like a doll.

“My little doll.” Karina voices her thoughts out loud, dropping wet kisses on Minjeong’s bare shoulders, waiting for the younger girl to settle down.

After a few minutes, she does, leaving Karina’s lap to sit beside her, inhaling deeply.

It’s Karina, Minjeong realizes, then. Karina is better than Soju, better than Rum, and much better than vodka. Karina is what sets her on fire, what gets her dizzy, drunk with desire. Minjeong wants to drink in all of her.

So she kisses her again, just as hungry as their first time, knowing their night had just started.

[herpsandbirds]

Black-throated Mango (Anthracothorax nigricollis), male, family Trochilidae, order Apodiformes, Trinidad

photograph by Ajay Rampersad

[lowcountry-gothic]

Black-throated mango (Anthracothorax nigricollis) in Colombia. Photo by Oscar Avila.

[rondaincorporated]

Hummingbird Species, Part 82

This week starts with the black-throated mango, Anthracothorax nigricollis. The black-throated mango hummingbird, also known as Anthracothorax nigricollis, is a species of hummingbird native to Central and South America. The species is widely distributed throughout the region, ranging from southern Mexico to northern Argentina. The black-throated mango hummingbird is considered to be one of the…

[muldermuse]

Guardian Angel (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

this was based on a prompt i recieved!

18+ only!! mdni!! warning: reader is briefly knocked unconscious in the fic! not by Gator but by an anonymous male who is never named/identified. mentions of bad childhood/abusive parents. mentions of police brutality. mentions of smut. being in a hospital/back of an ambulance. Gator and Roy are threatening in this and mean about reader. Angst!!! lil bit of fluff! more angst?? Unhappy ending (no character deaths tho do not worry)

I’m sorry :/

Part of the two sinners works! Read more here!

Gator Tillman had no choice but to become a Sheriff, he idolised his Father and saw the respect that surrounded him. No one ever questions Roy Tillman; at least, not if they value their own life. Gator had witnessed firsthand the brutality that his father inflicted on his community when wearing the badge. One of Gator’s happiest childhood memories was his daddy letting him wear his cowboy hat and his Sheriff’s badge. Roy Tillman’s eyes were full of pride as he looked as his young son, “you’ll make a fantastic Sheriff one day, boy”. Any other dreams that young Gator were quashed in that moment, ever since that day when his Father looked at him and saw the potential Gator could grow up to have- he knew he had to be a Sheriff. 

Unfortunately, Gator Tillman never wanted to be a good Sheriff. He didn’t actually care about helping people or being a beacon of hope for his community. Gator, like his Father, loved the power that came with the badge. Without it, he was some loser daddy’s boy but with it; he felt he was unstoppable. As much as Roy Tillman ignored his son, he knew him too well and he knew what little ability Gator actually had. So, Gator was always on the quietest shifts and he was always paired with an older colleague who could actually do the job. In his father’s eyes; Gator was still a little kid playing dress up. So here he is, browsing the disposable vape collection in his local gas station to fill the time until he can clock out. The clerk looks away and Gator slips a watermelon mango flavour into his pocket. He throws a few dollars on the counter and takes a bag of Takis before heading back to the patrol car. Maybe he can convince his patrol partner to drive him to a diner to get a coffee to kill a few more hours or maybe he’ll have an uncomfortable nap across the back seat.

Then a call comes in. 

“Dispatch, please respond. We have a call for assistance at The Outpost Bar about 4 minutes from your current location. Seems that an altercation between two men has escalated and a young lady has got hurt, ambulance is nearly there as she’s knocked out”.

Gator picks up the radio as his colleague starts speeding to the bar, “Heard- name of victim?”. 

Bile rises in his throat and he feels his stomach drop. 

It’s your name.

Before he can even process what has happened; the patrol car arrives on the scene and sees the ambulance outside the front of the bar. 

He knows his job is to find the guy who’s done this and get him in the back of the car. He knows the ambulance and the paramedics are there to help you. But he also knows that you’re currently unconscious on the floor of a shitty dive bar and that’s all he can focus on. His heart is thundering in his ears as he runs into the bar, his colleague is shouting his name after him to try and discuss a plan before entering the bar. He needs to see you, what if the call was wrong? You never mentioned that you’d be heading out tonight. You never really tell him anywhere you’re going though. He wishes you would but he can’t think about that now. 

The inside of the bar is nearly empty, the lights are up and there’s a group of women stood around someone lying on the floor. The shoes he can see are a pair of black boots- has he ever seen you wear those? Would you wear something like that? The thought in his head are moving too quick for him to comprehend. He tries to make his way over to the huddle of women on the floor but he sees a familiar face first. It’s Jenson Ackerley, the guy you brought to the church pot luck, the guy that you’d told Gator you never planned on seeing again after blowing him off for him. Gator had seen a few texts from Jenson pop up on your phone but you were seemingly quick to ignore them. He’s stood at the bar, he’s holding his head in his hands and looks relieved when he sees law enforcement come in.

“Thank god you’re here, they fuckin’ ran off after they shoved her. She hit her head and then they fuckin’ ran off. She’s breathin’ fine so sh-“ he sounds relieved as he speaks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as if he’s a concerned partner. You’re not his partner, Gator isn’t either but he’s closer to it than this fucking guy. A rage flushes across his face as Gator grabs Jenson’s plaid shirt in his fists and pushes him against the concrete wall of the bar. He spits at Jenson’s feet before speaking to him, “What the fuck happened? Why the fuck didn’t you step in? Some fuckin’ quarterback huh?” He shoves him harder; feeling rejoice in the nerves filling Jenson’s eyes "Lettin’ her get hit while you just fuckin’ stand there holdin’ your fuckin' dick?”. Jenson’s face contorts in confusion, he tries to respond before Gator punches him hard in his lower stomach. He grabs Jenson’s cheeks and pushes his head further into the cold, hard concrete of the wall as he whispers low in his ear “I fuckin’ swear on my fuckin’ Dad’s life- if something happens to her, I’ll fuckin’ kill you”. The hard grip of his hand gets tighter on Jenson’s face, Jenson’s face would be flushing red if it were not for the fact that all blood seems to have drained from his face with nerves. Gator’s smirk is predatory, “‘m a fuckin’ Sheriff y’know- I can make it look like an accident”.

He can hear your voice, it’s mumbled and strained- but it is distinctly you.

Gator turns that quick he feels a bout of nausea hit him, it’s doubled when he sees you being moved out of the dingy bar on a stretcher. You look confused but a flash of recognition and reassurance flutters through your expression when you realise it’s him.

“Gator?” Your voice is slow as if your wading through thick molasses to whisper his two syllable name. He grabs your hand, it’s ice cold and he knows that it’s the shock your poor body has been through this evening. Your hand meekly trembles in his and it occurs to Gator that he’s never seen you as vulnerable as this. 

“Yeah-yeah it’s me, hi” His voice is the softest it’s ever been with you as he tenderly presses a hand to your face. This isn’t the same man who two days ago called you a whore as you rode his cock in his Daddy’s bed and this certainly isn’t the man who’s last text simply told you to fuck off and leave him alone. This isn’t your Gator. But right now, this isn’t you. When you look back, you both won’t recognise the other in this moment.

But fiercely, you’ll both take the tenderness right now. You both desperately need it.

Gator will come to always crave it.

*** 

He insisted to his colleague that he’d go with you in the ambulance. The paramedic was too preoccupied with checking your vitals to notice that Gator held your hand the entire way. When tears filled your eyes due to pure confusion about your current situation, he’d press a soft kiss to your under eyes and mumble to you that it was going to be okay. He wasn’t leaving your side until it was all okay- he promised.

“I swear on it, okay baby. Me and you” he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it. Tenderly, he moves your hair out of your face as you nod in agreement. You wanted to believe him with every ounce of your body and soul but your mouth is too dry to beg him to stay; you’re not sure if you’re asking for tonight or for forever.

Gator’s watching you intently, he’s memorising the different parts of your face- just in case. Of course nothing’s going to happen to you, he’s sure of it. But just in case, he’s logging to his memory the soft curve of your lips, always a little pouty and so fucking pretty when you wear that lip gloss that drives him wild. The little furrow in your brow, always more prominent when you’re worried or plotting how you can try and fuck up Gator’s week by saying something calculating.

Your eyes flicker shut as the paramedic rests a hand on Gator’s shoulder, “you’re a good boyfriend. Half the guys don’t even want to come in the back and the others usually try to calm themselves rather than their partners. You’re a good man”. The irony isn’t missed on him, he is someone’s boyfriend but he’s not yours. His girlfriend has never received this tenderness from him. Gator Tillman is a lot of things but he is definitely not a good man. In this moment, however, he is trying to be. 

He doesn’t thank the paramedic, he just nods and keeps your small hand in his. He doesn’t want his mind to wander and consider how things would be if you were in a relationship. You’d drive him mad, he’s sure of it but with Glenda; he feels nothing. He considers that at least anger is an emotion. Better than an emotionally vacant relationship. 

The ambulance comes to a sudden stop and he feels your hand grip his tighter, your eyes are open and as the paramedic works to open the door; Gator is reassuring you that everything’s going to be okay. 

“Promise that you’ll stay?” your voice is hesitant and soft. You feel emotionally exposed right now and it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling.

Gator presses a kiss to your forward quickly, conscious of the paramedic trying to get your stretcher out of the vehicle and onto a ward. “Of course baby, as soon as they find you a room- I’ll be there. Okay? I swear it”. You begin to cry as you nod and Gator desperately wants to kiss you more to console you but you’re wheeled out before he gets the chance.

Your hands are pulled apart as your stretcher gets wheeled into the hospital. He’s lost in his thoughts until a familiar authoritative voice booms behind him.

“Gator?”

It’s his father.

Gator feels the blood drain from his body and he tries to stop his hands trembling before he turns around.

Roy’s hands are on his hips as he glares at Gator. He’s dressed in his usual cowboy hat and denim jacket. His father’s presence always makes Gator nervous. With one look from Roy Tillman, Gator is transported back to being a four year old meek child who had accidentally broken a vase, terrified of his father’s reaction but simultaneously in awe of the authoritarian berating him for his mistake. He’d seen them holding hands, Gator takes a second to thank the lord that that is all his father had seen.

His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, he can’t speak and if he could; he doesn’t even know what he would say. There’s no reason for it. Why would he be holding your hand? Why would he travel in the back of the ambulance with you? It isn’t protocol and, for all Roy knows, Gator does not like you. He isn’t even supposed to know you. His father had warned Gator about you from the first time he had seen you. 

“She’s a sinner that girl- I don’t want her corrupting you. Showing you her worldly ways, you are not to speak to her- y’hear me?” What Roy didn’t know is by that time, you’d already started sleeping together. Both of you taking the time to learn each other’s bodies intimately. You made Gator feel things he never had before but that didn’t matter- you were a dirty sinner. It never crosses Gator’s mind that he could be a sinner too.

The paramedic reemerges from the hospital and before Gator can intercept, she tells him that ‘his girlfriend’ is on ward 6. 

“I’ve told her that you’ll be up soon to see her. She’s still a bit upset so maybe head up after you’ve finished speaking with the Sheriff” the paramedic is kind. Her words are soft and considered and her eyes look up at Gator as if he’s a great man. He hopes that this paramedic will keep Gator in her mind as an attentive and considerate partner. She may be the only person who would ever think of Gator Tillman in that way. Roy smiles at the paramedic but it doesn’t meet his eyes; Gator realises that his smile never does. 

After she leaves, there’s a moment of silence. It feels too long and uncomfortable.

***

“I don’t know what’s happenin’ with you and that girl b-“

“Dad” Gator scoffs, as if the idea is ridiculous “nothin’s happenin’. I answered the call so I was there and y’know, I’m the Sheriff- it’s my job to make sure she’s safe. Well, not ju-“

Roy takes Gator’s shirt in his fists and slams him against the wall of the hospital. The thud of Gator’s head hitting the concrete echoes across the vacant space. Roy spits in Gator’s face as he whispers sternly, “Do not fuckin’ lie to me. You’re a worse fuckin’ liar than your fuckin’ mother”.

He can’t speak, as hard as Gator’s mouth tries to form words, it lets him down and makes him look weak in front of his father. Just as he did when he was younger; Gator takes the emotional beating from his father.

“You got a good christian woman at home and I don’t think that Glenda would want to hear about you in the back of an ambulance with her- agree?”

He nods, his mind is empty as all he feels is blind panic. Will Roy tell Glenda? As soon as he loses her, he loses his father’s approval- something he’s spent years cultivating. He can’t lose her; it’s not a choice. Roy robs him of the chance to speak.

Roy’s hand is firm on Gator’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh. “What have I told you from day one about that girl, son?”. His eyes are unwavering on his son’s, Gator realises he has not seen his dad blink throughout this entire interaction.

“That she’s a sinner” it comes out too easy and Roy smirks in response. He’s made his father happy and he feels he can speak again. His chest not as tight as it felt a few moments ago.

Roy’s hand gets tighter on Gator’s shoulder and it begins to feel uncomfortable. “Tell me what you think of her” he nods to prompt Gator to speak. Gator briefly imagines if he could tell him the truth, how would he describe what he thinks of you? He’s unsure if he even allows himself to think about you when you’re apart. The thought of you living unfiltered in his mind is far too much. You need to be a box locked away in Gator’s depraved mind. There’s no key because it never needs opening.

He stutters as he goes to speak, “well…we all know what she’s like right? She’s a fuckin’ whore” Roy nods in encouragement as a shy smile breaks across Gator’s face. “Yeah, I mean, she’s probably dating about 10 different guys- right? I mean, I saw her with Jenson and then with some other fuckin’ guy like two days later. Glenda doesn’t like ‘er- thinks the same as me”.

Roy is content, his grip on his son’s shoulder eases as he smiles brightly at Gator. “We’re not gonna look for the guys that did this- didn’t happen. You were doin’ a routine check at the bar and that’s it. I’ve already told Williams that that’s what’s happened- I’ve sorted it for you, son”

Son.

That one syllable word is a warm blanket on a cold night. A ice cold glass of water in the hottest desert. A three course meal after a day of raw hunger.

Roy leads Gator away from you, he sits him in the patrol car and drives him home to Glenda. Glenda kisses his cheek softly at the doorway. She’s made a home cooked meal for her hardworking man. The meal tastes like ash on Gator’s tongue. He drinks whiskey to help him sleeps more than usual.

Meanwhile, you are laid alone in a hospital bed. Holding out hope that Gator will return, hopefully with the affection from the ambulance. But of course, Gator doesn’t come back to your room.

You don’t see him again whilst you're in the hospital.

He doesn’t text you for two weeks.

He turns up one late night when you’re back home, he asks if you’re ‘all good’ and you reply that you’ll be fine. You have sex that night and never acknowledge how tender he was to you in your time of need. You’re both rougher than usual, both craving to dominate the other and fuck them into submission. You have to make up for the unjustified kindness.

***

You never see how Gator spends his time off work. When he’s not with you, or with Glenda, or working- he’s trying to find out who did this to you.

He won’t stop searching until the person who did this is found in a ditch.

But you will never know.

[b4bybunz]

Just Friends

Satoru Gojo x Reader

2.5k words

Content: public, choking, etc, etc

A/n: hey sistas :3 if u didn’t know im in love with Gojo

“I need you.” were the only words that Gojo needed to hear before he was the assigned designated driver for you and your friends. He cancelled all plans he had and dropped everything to be right where he was at the moment which was in the driver seat of your small girly car.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have any plans tonight out of all nights.” You said as he adjusted the driver's seat to his liking.

“I know, crazy right.” He laughed nervously. He did in fact have plans, plans to host his own New Year’s Eve party, that he quickly cancelled in order to make you, his pretty lady friend, happy.

“Thank you for this Satoru.” You put a hand on his arm, that sent a rush of heat through his body. You noticed the way his veiny arm tensed when you touched him, ‘weird’ you thought.

“It’s not a big deal,” He finishes adjusting the seat then looks at you as your hand still rested on his arm your perfectly manicured nails grazing the vein on his pale skin “You know I’d do anything to make you happy” his voice deepened as his slender blue eyes looked into your big brown ones. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch in your throat, your mind completely blanked.

“Because that's what friends do.” He smiled as his voice returned back to normal.

“...yeah…friends.” You gave him a slight side eye and then you turned to look out the window waiting for your girlfriends.

Satoru always did things like that, things to get you flustered. It wasn’t that he liked you or anything, that's just how he was. A charmer that used his looks and charisma to get what he wanted. What you didn’t know was that he wasn’t like that with everyone, just you.

Your hair was in its natural state. Curls defined perfectly and smelled of coconut and mango. Your skin shined beneath the streetlight that shined through your tinted windshield and your body sat nicely in the black lacy top with matching bottoms. Satoru could not stop staring at you, and you could feel his eyes looking at you as his tongue licked his bottom lip slightly.

“What is it?” You finally give him attention.

“You look really pretty.” He grinned “and you smell good, that's all” His hand rested on his chin as he continued to stare at you.

You tried not to smile at the compliment, instead you rolled your eyes trying to brush off the feeling that was in your stomach. He was just a friend, you couldn’t be feeling whatever you felt in the pit of your stomach for him. You’re just friends you kept repeating in your mind. Finally, your slow ass friends made their way to your car so you could finally get to this NYE party.

During the drive you and your friends talked loudly about random shit, and sang along to the songs on your playlist. All three of you were hyped for this frat party, the only thing Satoru was hyped about was having you on his arm. Even though it wasn’t anything official, he wanted to let everyone know he wanted you. He’s wanted you since he met you, but you made it clear that he was just your friend. Friends don’t feel the way Satoru felt about you and he was convinced you felt the same way he just had to test his theory a little. He was already touchy, but that wasn’t enough. You still called him your friend, so he planned to just be straight up and ask when the time was right.

“Why’re you so quiet, you’re literally never quiet?” You look at him.

“I’m not quiet, am I quiet?” he asks your friends for a second opinion.

“Yes.” they both say.

“It’s scarily quiet,” Your friend Liz says.

“Literally.” Your other friend Stella says

“Fuck you guys, I’ve been talking this whole time. You guys are just loud and don’t listen to what I have to say.” He lies.

“Whatever.” You look him up and down analyzing him.

“Unlike you, staring doesn't bother me.” He teases. “You’re going to get a lot of stares tonight looking as good as you do right now.” He says boldly.

“Oh, shut up.” You push his arm, he tenses up again as he slightly bites his lip.

Your friends watched the whole interaction, they swear they could see hearts in your eyes as you watched the way he bit his lip.

“Get a room you two.” Your friend Stella teases.

“Maybe we will.” Satoru says.

It didn’t sound like a joke.

“Oh look, we’re here.” Satoru fills the silence and parks on a spot in the grass in front of the huge Fraternity.

The music was booming out of the house, as well as the sounds of people having fun, playing games, and celebrating. All of you got out of the car immediately and practically ran to the action. You and your friends saw your other mutual friends screaming in excitement and gushing over each other's outfits.Gojo stayed close behind you, almost guarding you.

“Who’s that?” Your mutual friend raised an eyebrow.

“Her boyfriend.” Liz blurted out.

“No-” you start.

“Yes.” Gojo smirks and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. There goes that feeling again, the butterflies. Heat rises to your face as you feel his farms tighten and his body press up against you.

“Okay, I see you y/n, popping out for the New year.” your friend teased.

“New Year, New Man!” Stella egged it on.

You just sighed in response. “I need a drink.” you unlatched his arms from around you and walked to the kitchen with him following behind.

You weren’t one to drink, but with the way the night was already starting you needed something. You grabbed a jello shot off of the counter and threw it back like nothing.You felt someone press up behind you that you thought was Gojo, but when the guy spoke you knew it wasn’t. You turned around and the guy trapped you against the counter with his hands pressed on each side of you.

“You look good, Ma.” The random guy said. He was drunk, all you could smell was beer on his hot breath and it made you scrunch your nose.

“Excuse me.” You push him back and he presses up against you more. The house was so crowded Gojo must've got caught in the crowd.

“You’re not going to say thank you?” The guy leaned in more. His hot breath hits your nose directly.

“I will when you back up-” you start before Satoru snatched him off of you.

“Get the fuck off of her, dude.” he pushes the guy onto the ground and the guy looks up at Gojo which towered over almost everyone in the kitchen. You look up at Satoru before he pulls you against him with one hand.

“You okay?” He said in your ear, his voice going deep again. The way he spoke made your legs nearly give out.

“Mhm.” you nod subtly, biting your lip.

That’s when he knew, he got you.

“Come on.” He took your hand and took you to the backyard that was quiet. You didn’t say anything, you just followed him.

He led you all the way to the far side of the backyard, next to a big tree.

“What are we doing out here?” you ask him.

“Talking.” He licks his lips.You feel the butterflies again.

“About?” You notice he’s still holding your hand. He begins playing with your rings as he speaks.

“Us.” Satoru continues looking at your hand. Your breath hitches and he watches how you react.

“You like me, don't you?” He has a big grin on his face.

“N-no, we’re just friends.” You say, he gives you a look that calls out your bullshit.

“I don’t like you like that, Satoru.” You give him a serious look.

“Oh yeah?” he says and you nod “Well why are you still holding my hand?”

“Fuck you.” you snatch your hand away and begin to walk away

“Fuck me.” he says which stops you in your tracks. “I want you.” he adds.

You turn and look at him, those eyes piercing into you. Satoru looks you up and down, his chest heaving. It’s almost like you’re being pulled toward him the way your body gets closer and closer to his.

“Fuck you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Please.” his eyes plead.

“Hm, no.” You pull him by his wrists and put his hands on your ass. “How about you fuck me.” You bite your lip a little before his lips crash onto yours.

Your hands on his strong biceps as he kisses you deeply making you stumble backwards slightly. The taste of your lips making him moan as he kisses you hungrily, needing to taste all of you. His tongue in your mouth lapping against yours creating a sloppy mess as his hands grip and rub your ass, in one maneuver he turns you around and presses you up against the tree. His knee in between your thighs making your lips pull away from his to release a sweet moan before pulling his lips back onto yours. The way his lips tasted was almost addictive, You needed more, and he gave it to you. Lifting you up by your thighs he wrapped your legs around him as his bulge grinded directly into your heat everytime your lips met each other. The warmth of your pussy made his cock twitch in his pants, he had to stop.

“Wait.” He pulled back breathing hard.

“Don’t stop.” you pulled him back in.

“We’re in public.” he said between kisses.

“No one can see.” You stopped kissing him and looked around.

The backyard was dark, especially nin the corner you both were in.

“Well I know that, but they’ll hear.” He said in your ear.

“I’ll be quiet.” you grin and plant a long kiss on his neck. “Take it out.” you say in his ear and just like an obedient dog that’s what he did.

You looked down and saw the outline of his thick and long dick. The thought of it being inside of you made you salivate. Satoru pulled your lace mesh pants and panties down, only exposing your pussy. His big strong arms held you underneath your legs.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

He gently pushed the throbbing tip of his cock inside your plush gummy walls. Your mouth is agape from the full feeling of just the tip. Satoru himself already felt like he’d cum if he moved even slightly. You felt better than he’d ever imagine you feeling. Both of you just stuck until Satoru pushed his way deeper and deeper through your tight walls until his dick is inside of you fully. You had to widen your legs to let him in deeper, that’s just how thick it was.

“We should hurry before your friends come looking for you.” He tells you, almost giving you a warning on how he’s about to rail your guts. You nod in response feeling like you’d be too loud if you spoke.

The sound your pussy made around him was enough noise for the both of you as he began thrusting slowly. One of your hands held onto a tree branch for support and the other held Satoru close to you. Being quiet wasn’t too bad of a problem until Satoru couldn’t bear being slow and gentle. His dick began pounding into you rapidly making your voice squeak out ever so often. Your big brown eyes looking in his as you bite your lip trying to muffle the whimpers. The impact of his hips making your boobs bounce in and nearly out of the low cut shirt.

“Shhh..shit! You gotta be quiet, baby.” Satoru warned.

“It feels so good” you quietly cry out in his ear.

“Oh fuck, I know.” He chuckles quietly in your ear then puts his lips on yours to try and quiet you before he thrusts harder.

“Mm!” you moaned into his mouth at each thrust. He was deep in your guts to the point you couldn’t think straight. You could feel each vein of his throbbing dick inside you, it was like he was making your body accustomed to him and only him.

“Shhh.” he hushed you, putting a hand on your throat. His hips pounded into you needily, needing to make you cum as quickly as possibly wanting to make you feel good. His whole body felt hot with arousal for you.

“Right there toru~” You hum.

“There?” He slows his thrusts down, hitting that spot directly watching your eyes roll back. He hits that spot with such precision it almost sends you into over shock. At least you were somewhat quiet, the overwhelming pleasure only mustering shuddering breaths as hes grunting in your ear.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good.” Satoru’s hand squeezes your throat a little tighter as his hips thrust faster. You moan in response to his praise, your nails digging into his shoulder as you try and hold yourself up. A ring of cream forming around his thick cock as he fucked you good and deep. The only noises coming out of you were strained whimpers from the way his hand squeezed around your throat. You didn’t mind the way he chokes you, as long as his dick kept pounding your guts in.

“Y/n!” Gojo could hear your friends calling for you in the far distance. You looked at Gojo with wide pleading eyes pleading for him to make you cum before you were caught.

“Hold on, okay.” he stopped choking you and pressed your legs against your chest. He began sloppily pounding your poor cervix making you gush around him. Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to hold your moans back but failed. Your pussy dripping from the way he fucked you.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” Your chest heaved as your toes curl.

“Cum on my dick, make a mess on it. Do whatever you need to.” Saturo’s lips kissed your neck as he continued to pound deep bruising your cervix.

“I’m cumming~” You gripped his shirt as your legs shook uncontrollably. A knot forming in your stomach and your back arching up off of the tree.

“Fuck!” Satoru grunted as he pulled out before cumming.

Your pussy was a dripping creamy mess as your legs continued to shake around Satoru’s waist. It clenched around the air , needing Gojo to put it back in. You wanted more, just one more round is all you wanted. You could barely even speak, still in shock from how hard you came.

“Later.” He kisses your forehead and pulls your pants and panties back up. He sets you down before pulling up his own pants and making sure you both don’t look suspicious.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"Hwa hwa, you know I love you the most, right?" You threw your arms around the male, hugging him with a sweetest grin that you could muster. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he stared at you, more like glared at you.

"Yeah right. The only time (y/n) tells Seonghwa hyung she loves him is to get out of trouble." Jongho snorted.

"Shut up, Jongho." You hissed.

"Be nice." Seonghwa hit the back of your head, making you sulk. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist to back hug you.

"Woo~" You squirmed. Seonghwa sighed, stroking your head. He knew that you already knew what he was going to say.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"Not at all. It was nice and relaxing. I needed this, to keep myelf busy." You looked up at him. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho knew what you meant.

"Plus, Yunho is good company." You added. All 3 boys looked up at Yunho, who was just standing there, trying to eavesdrop and watch what was happening without being noticed. He blinked when he realised that all the stared were at him. Embarrassed that they knew he was there, he cleared his throat.

"He made sure I sat down to rest after. And you! You're interfering with my coffee drinking! Even made sweet innocent Yunho turn against me." You raised a hand to hit Seonghwa.

"I-I made her a h-hot chocolate." Yunho confirmed, a little flustered to hear you call him 'sweet' and 'innocent'.

"Good. Now let's get to work." Seonghwa said, patting your head and completely ignoring you.

"I only need to fill my pasta. I'm letting my galbi and broth simmer for as long as I can let it. My garnishes and toppings are prepared." You told them.

"I'll start on apps with you?" Jongho offered. You nodded, about to walk when you noticed Wooyoung still latched to your waist.

"Wooyoung! Let me go." You patted his back. He puckered his lips in a pout before he unwillingly let you go.

You wore your apron again and went to wash your knife. This night was slightly different. With everyone working on their own dish, there wasn't a clear sous, prep or head chef. All of you just split the shared tasks while working on your own.

"Oh, wait. Let me check on the ice cream." You put your knife down and went to churners to check the consistency of the ice cream. Once they were done, you put them in the freezer.

"What's for dessert?" Yunho asked.

"That was smoked milk and vanilla ice cream. We're serving that with red bean jelly cubes, pieces of injeolmi rice cake and an almond tuile."

"Like flavours of patbingsoo but elevated." Seonghwa informed. You nodded in confirmation.

"For Western dessert, we're doing a burnt white chocolate panna cotta with raspberry swirl meringues, a passionfruit coolis and fresh mango cubes over." Jongho added.

"That sounds really nice. But burnt white chocolate?" Yunho leaned forward on his hands.

"Well, not burnt. More caramelised. White chocolate on its own is very sweet. But cook it until it becomes brown and caramelised, the flavour is a lot better and easier to balance." Wooyoung explained. Yunho nodded in interest. You continued working on the appetisers with Jongho.

"Hweh crudo. Take the marinated fish slices and roll it up with pea shoots, scallions and shredded perilla leaf. Minari (Water dropwort) jeon." You listed.

"We need to prep gujeolpan (plate with small wraps and 9 delicacy toppings)." Jongho reminded.

"Right. Then the confit tomatoes with pickles." You checked.

"I'll do the roasted eggplant with black olive doenjang and ponzu. Almost done here." Wooyoung voiced out as he worked on his dish at his bench. The door opened, the others entering.

"We're here early to help!" San declared loudly with his arms raised. Hongjoong and Yeosang shushed him.

"You can help us with the appetisers. Get aprons and wash your hands." You said.

The 4 main kitchen crew took turns. After Seonghwa and Wooyoung stepped in to guide those that didn't know their way around the kitchen, you and Jongho could work on your mains.

"Yunho, want to help me with my pasta?" You asked. Yunho's head shot up, looking for where you were in the kitchen before leaving Mingi and his task to go to you. He smiled excitedly as he bounded over like a puppy.

"So we need to shred the meat for the pasta. This is the galbi. Take two forks and pull them apart." You demonstrated.

"I can do that! And that smells so good." He pointed to the galbi. Grabbing a tasting spoon, you let him indulge in a bite. But soon, you had others around.

"Hey!" Yunho protested as you fed San, Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong too.

"Alright, get back to work." He scolded them. You stayed beside Yunho, rolling out the pasta dough.

"You don't need to shred every single piece entirely. You can leave them in different size pieces." You told Yunho. He nodded with a hum, sneaking a bite before continuing.

"Stop stealing the food." You scolded him with a laugh. Yunho grinned cheekily.

"I want to do Yunho's job too." Hongjoong whined.

"No! It's my job." Yunho barked back. He liked working with you, like your personal sous chef. Yunho watched you measured the dough with a ruler and cut it. You took bites of meat that Yunho had already shredded and placed it in the middle before closing it, joining the ends together.

"Ooh, can I try?" Yunho asked with sparkling eyes. You nodded and Yunho put the forks down temporarily for you to slowly demonstrate how to fold the pasta dough.

"Not too much filling or it'll burst." You advised.

"Yeah, just like that. Press the two ends." You leaned over to see Yunho's one.

"I'll finish up here and continue that." He smiled proudly, putting it aside before finishing his previous job of shredding the meat. Once he was done, he helped you fold the pasta.

"I'm not as fast as you." He pouted.

"You just started. I would already say you're already doing a great job." You smiled.

"Thank you." Yunho blushed from your compliment. He continued to make the pasta with you. You momentarily stepped away to check the seolleongtang broth that was bubbling away on the stove, giving it a taste to make sure it was getting there.

"How is it?" Yunho asked when you stepped back into your original spot. You looked up at him and nodded, telling him how the progress of the stock has been.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, there were a few sets of eyes staring at the two of you chat in your little corner. It was like you were in your own bubble, smiling as you chatted and made the pasta together.

"That's cute." Wooyoung noted. Yeosang nodded in agreement. Hongjoong let out an affectionate chuckle.

"They're in their own world over there." San chuckled.

"They're just talking, how is that cute?" Mingi blinked, completely missing what everyone was talking about. Hongjoong patted Mingi's shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay not to get it, Mingi ah." Hongjoong chuckled. Seonghwa stared for a second, unknowingly clenching his jaw.

"Seonghwa hyung?" Jongho called out, breaking his brain fog. The look Jongho cast him, Seonghwa knew he had been caught spiralling in his brain. He was reminding the elder that he wasn't alone in the room. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa focussed on the cutting baord in the front of him.

"We're done here. Anyone need help on anything?" You came back to the center of the kitchen where everyone was still working.

"Appetisers are almost done. Do you want to start the dessert components with me?" Seonghwa asked you in a gentle voice. You nodded your head.

"Let's get the panna cottas in the fridge to set." You both went to get the ingredients from the walk in and pantry.

"Thanks for all the help, guys. But if you need to go prepare the front for tonight. Just go ahead, we've got it handled." You said to the 5.

"We should bring in the washed plates for tonight." Yeosang said. He and San went out to bring the plates in for the kitchen crew to use to plate the food on.

"Who is working the pass tonight?" You asked.

"I can be the main. But we'll have to rotate from time to time." Wooyoung volunteered.

"Sure. Just tap out when you need someone to take over." Seonghwa and Jongho agreed. With a small crew, this was how you had to make things work. You couldn't afford to have one person just at one station the whole night.

Soon, the crew that works the front of the restaurant all were busy trying to set up for the night, leaving only a few in the ktichen to work with your kitchen crew.

"Actually, Mingi. I would love to speak with your mother about cooking eels, preparing and procuring them." You said.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to share that knowledge with you, (y/n). She loves talking about food." He chuckled.

"Maybe she can give me her eel supplier. I would love to explore it as an ingredient more. Surprisingly, I have not been that exposed to working with it." You sighed.

"My mum's the right person to go to then. I should bring you to the restaurant one day." He replied.

"I'd love that." You had a small smile on your face.

"Let's cook the staff meal first. I have feeling we might end later than we usually do and we'll be too tired to cook for ourselves then." Seonghwa suggested. You checked the clock, about to decide what to whip up quickly for everyone but San and Mingi came over, volunteering to cook.

"You guys are busy enough. We'll take over and cook something up." San smiled.

"Thanks, guys." You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho were very grateful that they stepped up and volunteered. San and Mingi were the best cooks out of the 5 so you weren't too worried.

"Shall we make curry rice?" Mingi suggested, holding the cubes of Korean curry up.

"I know how to make that." San laughed. The two began chopping vegetables, adding whatever meat they could find.

"Is anyone using these?" San came out of the walk in with a few packs of chicken thighs and sliced pork belly in his hands. You all shook your heads.

"I'll cook the rice. You start slicing the meat." Mingi instructed and went to get the rice cooker. The 4 of you made sure to be around them in case the two needed help. But San and Mingi were confident, they didn't want to ask for help.

"Mingi, sorry. Just a few minutes. Yunho needs another tall person to help." Hongjoong poked his head into the kitchen.

"Coming." Mingi went out.

"Hi, (y/n)ie." San smiled when you moved opposite him to check on the pasta that you made with Yunho earlier. You chuckled at the casual way he called you.

"Hi, Sannie." You returned the greeting. San looked up in surprise but smiled nonetheless, his dimple popping through.

"So are you excited for your parents to come tonight?" You asked him. He nodded.

"My parents live rather far in the countryside but when they visit, it is always a treat. I hope my older sister comes too. I miss all of them." San said.

"They must be really nice."

"They are. They treat everyone like their family." He laughed. You wondered what it must be like to have such a warm, welcoming family. Maybe your family would have been like that if your mother was still around. But even then, your father was someone that never liked you and your mother to be too friendly to others.

"(y/n)." Seonghwa called you. You looked up to see Seonghwa nodding over to where he was. Shooting San a small smile, you went over to him.

"Okay?" He whispered as you stood beside him. You let out a small hum, helping him with the dessert.

-

After a quick dinner, the kitchen was bustling for dinner service. You knew the parents came when the boys were all greeting them loudly and excitedly in the dining room.

"Hey." Yunho came in with all the parents behind him. You all stood up, bowing respectfully. He introduced whose parents were whose and the family members. Yunho's younger brother looked like him.

"Please, don't let us bother you. Or interrupt your flow." Mrs Song chuckled, waving a hand. She knew what it was like working in the kitchen, owning her own restaurant. You all returend to your food prep tasks.

"I'm Wooyoung. That's Seonghwa hyung, Jongho and (y/n)." Wooyoung, who was the closest, introduced all of you.

"(y/n). The head." Even if you were not looking at them, you felt all eyes fall on you. Jongho nodded at you, assuring that he could handle it. You straightened up and walked over.

"Nice to meet you." You bowed to them.

"Omo. You're so pretty." All the mothers flocked to you, cooing at you affectionately. You grew flustered, unsure of what to do or how to react.

"Okay, ommas. Let's give her some space." Yunho cut in, separating them from you. The fathers merely chuckled, shaking their heads while the mothers scolded Yunho.

"How talented you are. I heard you've been in many reputable kitchens at your age." Mrs Jeong said sweetly, holding your hand.

"Ah, no... It's all just for experience. I'm thankful for all the opportunities given to me." You gave an awkward smile. Yunho cleared his throat and his mother pulled away, shooting her son a look. You bowed your head and went back to help, not wanting to leave the others on their own for long.

"Alright, we shall let them get back to work. Let's go back out." Yunho ushered all of them out of the kitchen. He let a sigh, hoping his mother didn't scare you too much.

"What happened?" Mingi asked.

"Our mothers were smothering (y/n)." Yunho rolled his eyes as the parents took their seats.

"Hyung, (y/n) and those guys are so talented. Why would they want to work for you?" Gunho asked. Yunho shot his younger brother a flat look while Mr Jeong nudged his youngest son.

"Because I am an amazing boss, okay?" Yunho scoffed.

"Mmm, sure." Yeosang coughed. Hongjoong handed out the menus to the parents for them to see what they would like to order.

"Omma, order (y/n)'s dish. I helped make it." Yunho leaned over, pointing to which dish you made on the menu. Mrs Jeong nodded with a hum.

"Hyung helped make it? I'm so not going to order it." Gunho shook his head. Mingi snickered, reaching over to hi-five him. Yunho threatened to hit them. But in the presence of other customers, he wasn't going to.

"Order coming in for the VIP tables." Wooyoung warned as he started to read off the order slips that were coming through.

"Let's go." You all began to work on the appetisers together that would be served first. Wooyoung, at the pass, would finish up with sauces and garnishes before sending the plate out to be served.

"Service." Wooyoung put the plates out for the other boys to bring out to the table.

"Let's start getting ready for mains so we can fire once they are done with apps. In case we need to float." You said to everyone.

"How is it going in here?" Yunho came into the kitchen. You were straining your seolleongtang stock, getting it ready to plate the mains later.

"How are the appetisers?" Seonghwa asked, setting up his oven smoker with the tea leaves for his duck.

"Oh, they love it. Every single dish, I had to stop them from ordering seconds before the mains. But at least they're all excited for the mains now." Yunho grinned proudly. When you were done, you helped Jongho with setting up his binchotan grill for the cod fillets. Yunho came over to you.

"Need help?"

"No, we're good here. You should go out and be with your parents. In case they need anything." You put a hand on his arm. Yunho pouted but nodded, obediently leaving the kitchen.

"We can start firing the mains." Wooyoung said, having observed the dining room from his position at the pass.

"Gunho looks like Yunho. A younger version." You chuckled as you took the pasta out of the boiling water. You missed the odd look that your friends shot you.

"Cuter?" Jongho asked, wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"Maybe." You shrugged.

"What?!" The door burst open and Yunho yelled in disbelief, making you all jump in shock. Hongjoong, who was outside, bowed in apology to the surprised customers before hurriedly pushing Yunho in the kitchen.

"Geez, Yunho! There are customers! You can't just suddenly yell like that." He scolded in a hiss before exiting to return to the dining room.

"Yunho, don't do that. You're disrupting customers and it's not safe where we're working with knives here." You frowned.

"Wait, do you seriously think Gunho is cuter than me?" Yunho planted his hand on the counter, blocking your way with his body. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho snickered.

"Does it matter? Now, I need to plate my dish." You said, walking around him to go to the plates.

"Yes, it matters to me!" Yunho threw a tantrum, stomping his food as he whined.

"(y/n)~" He whined when he realised that you were ignoring him. You plated each pasta on each plate, making sure the positions of each pasta was accurate and similar. He leaned down in front of you.

"(y/n), tell me I'm cuter than Gunho." He said. You rolled your eyes, patting his head to pacify him then walking to get the seolleongtang into a jug so you could pour it over the pasta. Yunho sulked, following you around like a puppy with separation anxiety. You poured the broth over, garnishing with two oils.

"Pass me the egg garnish." You instructed. Yunho sighed but handed the containers for you to put the garnishes over.

"Bring these out for service, will you?" You told him and went to prepare the other portions. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho called the others for service too.

"Yah. Don't just stand there. Keep moving." Mingi clicked his tongue as he carried the dishes in his hands.

"We might have a little lull time before dessets." Wooyoung said.

"(y/n). Tell me I'm better than Gunho." Yunho came in again, still pushing his agenda. You raised an eyebrow at him. He was seriously a pouty puppy.

"I don't know Gunho well enough to know if you're truly better than him. That's biased." You pointed out.

"True." San, who overheard, voiced in agreement. Yunho whipped around, glaring at San.

"Get out." He pointed at the door. San scoffed and rolled his eyes before going out. Turning back around, Yunho saw that you had slipped away. You were still doing the few orders for mains and appetisers that came in.

"Service." You handed the plates to Wooyoung. Yeosang came in to take them out to the dining room. Seonghwa and Jongho also served what they finished working on. Yunho brought them out.

"Let's take 5." Seonghwa suggested. You stepped out the back door for a breather. Yunho came back to find you missing.

"I'm just taking a breather, Yunho." You said when he stepped out of the back door.

"I know." He said, taking a seat beside you on the stoop. With his body practically brushing against yours, you didn't move away uncomfortably. You sat there in silence.

"Why were you so adament on me thinking you're better than Gunho? It doesn't matter what I think." You asked with a chuckle.

"No, it matters to me." Yunho said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you can't like Gunho. I want to be the only one that you like." He frowned.

~

Series masterlist

[anarchiii]

The Shadowsinger’s lover-4 —ACOTAR AU

Part four | warnings: fluff, Az being a simp, little bit of innuendo at the end. | Azriel x Rhys!sister

Summary; Rhys’ sister comes home, finally, and the the new members of the inner circle are surprised to learn that she (we are gonna call her ‘Selene’) and Azriel are Mates and have been for over two hundred years.

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Selene’s POV

The sun was rising, and with it, the people, the air was crisp and the fog a quiet companion, she loved days like these, despite what many people may think. Selene was not a night owl. Quite the opposite actually, she loved to wake with the sun and sleep with it as well, besides, less people to deal with, she and people didn’t get along well. That was why her and Azriel paired so perfectly. Silence and solitude was a good—and old—friend to both of them.

Selene was pulled out of her thoughts by the feeling of strong hands wrap around her waist, the smell of cedar and night chilled mist met her nose, soothing her soul, silky black hair tickled her neck, she turned said neck and met eyes with her mate. Those eyes were glazed over with the remaining remnants of sleep. A smile grazed her lips at his presence, “hello, love” Azriel said, his voice gravelly

“Hello, handsome” she said back before she gently pressed her lips to his, his hands tightened around her waist but she pulled back before it could continue, Azriel frowned at the loss of contact.

“Not now, I have to do a couple of things in the city, besides, don’t you have a meeting to get to?”

“Fine, you’re safe for now.” He grumbled back.

-

The sun shine bright across the streets of Velaris, a light breeze blowing through her hair, birds were singing and children were laughing, it was a perfect summer’s day, the markets were filled with people purchasing things from the freshest fruits to the finest silk. She had breezed through the stalls. Browsing the many items available, a couple mangos and fresh goats milk lay in her bag.

Selene stopped at a local bakery and bought a loaf of bread and a almond croissant—her mate’s favourite—the smell of fresh bread followed her throughout the market, she was just exiting the packed square when something shiny caught her eye, it was a lovely piece of jewellery, silver and cobalt blue—like Azriel’s Siphons.

The ended up buying the necklace, it was not the cheapest jewel she had bought but definitely not the most expensive, she would have to find a good time to wear it, Selene knew Azriel would adore it. And she had just the dress—nightgown, was more like it—in mind to pair it with.

-

Azriel’s POV

He hated meetings, he hated the people in it, and most of all—he hated how he had to be away from his heart, his love. His all.

Some may say Azriel was too infatuated with his mate but that was just love, thinking about them constantly? Love, wanting to be around them every second of every day? Love. It was simple.

Azriel trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, he wanted nothing more than to get under the covers and sleep and sleep until he had to wake up, unfortunately, that wasn’t an option for him, if he at least got a few hours of shut-eye he’d be content, he opened the door in time to see his mate. And holy mother. She was beautiful, clad in a short blue dress and silver hair falling around her face, she wore a beautiful necklace, the colour matching his Siphons perfectly, Azriel groaned, they both knew they were not getting any sleep for a while.

“Shall we continue what we started earlier this morning?” She batted her lashes at him, her throat bobbing while a blush slowly spread across her cheeks, “by the Cauldron, yes.” He answered back.

Definitely no sleeping tonight.

The End.

Note: thank you guys so much for reading this or liking it, I really appreciate it, I’m so sorry this took so long to post, I haven’t been in the greatest place mentally but I really wanted to get this out. Thanks again!

-Taglist;

@daycourtofficial

@illyrianbitch

@milswrites

@itsswritten

@azrielslittleslut

@utterlyotterlyx

@thehighladywrites

@flickering-chandelier