#it would only take what like 4 pages???hhhhhhh

[toxooz]

god not me being blasted out of nowhere with a MIGHTY NEED to draw a short Wig n Zortzi angst comic snippet on top ov everything else nnOoOOOOOOOO

[ppersonna]

half baked - pjm | m

baby we two distant strangers. i know you don't speak my language, but I love the way she's talking to me - love talk, wayv

↳ summary- park jimin gets a job at your bakery, and you can’t help but find yourself annoyingly attracted to the cocky man.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ word count- 5.2k

↳ genre- smut, fluff

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, lightly dom!jimin, sub!reader, slight enemies2lovers, sex in a kitchen, please god don’t fuck in a kitchen its a health code violation, spanking, nipple play, cum play, fingering

↳ a/n- ahHH!HHHHhhh!H! i blame this 100% on @wwilloww​ for merely putting the idea in my head and i had to take it and run with it.  also thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ my babe/my loml for the amazing banner! i truly do not deserve u but ily so much.  and thank you to @chimoona​ @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @taetaewonderland​ for being the best mf squad a lady could have and beta-ing this for me! i love you all so much! i hope you enjoy silly cocky jimin!

 Two cups of flour, one and three quarters cup sugar, 2 cups of butter.

You know the recipes by heart.  In fact, one might postulate that the recipes themselves are the sole contents of your heart.  

You live and breathe baking. It is your solace and your truest love.

Which is why it is all nearly thrown into catastrophe when Park Jimin comes into the picture.

It starts on a rather busy day.  You’re hard at work in the kitchen, prepping the finished products and presenting them in neat little boxes, when your best friend and co-owner of Wake ‘N Bake, Willow, lets out a frustrated squeal..  You turn your head to find her covered head to toe in flour, making you snort as she shoots you a playfully ominous glare.

“Shut up,” she sniffs as she attempts to pat some fine dust off of her, to no avail. “I only have two hands and about fifty things to do with them at the same time.”

Your lips part to reply something equally sassy when the bell over the front door rings, notifying you of a paying customer.  Grabbing a towel, you quickly wipe off cookie debris and throw it at your best friend to do her best to clean off as she follows behind you.

You pause as you take stock of who stands there. A handsome man arrives at the cash register and peers around, presumably looking for an employee.  He is gorgeous—ethereal even and looks like someone who walked out of the pages of a magazine. His bone structure screams model, and you can’t help but feel the stirrings of desire for the beautiful stranger.

“Hi! Welcome to Wake ‘N Bake!” Willow sings cheerfully, despite being coated in baking flour.

The man eyes her with a glint of humor in his eye, and Willow’s cheeks turn a hue of pink when she remembers her current appearance.

“Hi,” he speaks. His voice is smooth like butter, and gentle. It makes you feel weak, like you’re warming in the very ovens that your pastries rise in.

“I saw your shop from down the street and I had to stop in. Your desserts look amazing.  Is the owner here by chance?”

Your smile fades as he looks around the room for someone else, someone beyond you and your best friend.

Of course.

No one believes that two young women could start and maintain their own business. Everyone assumes that some older, well-off man was at the helm while you and Willow toil for minimum wage.

Your arms cross over your body in clear displeasure.

“We are the owners.”

“Oh!”  The man looks surprised but not put off. “Awesome. I was hoping I could… talk to you about, err—… a job?”

His face is sheepish and Willow nearly coos at the sight.

Unfortunately, it appears you and your best friend have warring ideas.

“Yes!” She chimes at the same moment you dead-pan a resounding ‘No’.

Your heads spin to stare at each other—Willow’s eyes wide in disbelief and yours in annoyance.

“We need the help!” She huffs.

“We can do things on our own, like we always have,” you remind her.

Willow gestures to her flour covered clothing in desperation.

“We clearly could use help with how successful we have gotten!”

To your chagrin, she has a point. It might be nice to have someone to help in the front while the two of you manage the kitchen in the back.  It would increase your productivity by double what you’re able to do now.

But there’s something about his attitude coming in that rubs you the wrong way.  Like, he’s too pretty. Too confident. Too nice.

“What’s your baking experience?” You ask as you turn back to the hopelessly lost, yet ever eager man.

“Oh, err—,” he stutters. “I worked at my friend Jin’s restaurant. That served desserts, too?”

You shake your head in disdain while Willow claps her hands in excitement, a puff of white flour dust pluming into the air.

“Perfect! So you could do sales!?”

“Yeah! I can do sales, no problem.”

You turn your gaze back to Willow who stares at the man like he is her knight in shining armor.

“Willow?! Can I talk to you in the back?”

She knows that tone—the one that tells her you’re not pleased with her decisions. She nods once and politely excuses the both of you from the man before heading back towards the kitchen.

“What in the world is wrong with you?!” She asks the moment the swinging door closed.

“Me?!” You’re incredulous—hands flying in the air. “You’re over here trying to hire the first Joey Hot-Lips who walks in off the street!”

Willow’s anguished face falls and turns into a devilish smirk as she leans back on her heels.

“Aha! You’re attracted to him,” she notes as if she figured out the world's greatest mystery. “That’s why you don’t want him here.”

“What? No!” Your defense crumbles around you. “Did you hear him? He totally acted like he didn’t believe we could be the owners!”

“Oh, come on, that was a simple mistake and you know it!  You’re just being protective.”

You ‘humph’ a non-committal response—unable to argue.

You are protective of your bakery. It’s your combined love child with Willow. What started as a dream between cocktails with your best friend became a real brick and mortar reality.  You had been through enough trying to open it you can’t help but feel skeptical of anyone trying to get involved. Many tried to discredit your ability to maintain such a successful shop, and you’d rather continue to run it with no one else than see it fall at the hands of another.

“Just as I thought,” Willow hums. “In that case, he’s hired!”

You’re given no chance to reply—the flour-covered girl pushes through the swinging doors and announces to the handsome man that he’s hired and free to start the following day.

“Great!  Thanks!” His smile is sincere—blinding and breathtaking, and you hate how much you want to see that smile again.

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, waving goodbye as he exits the chiming door.

“Now, you need to deal with whatever issues you have about letting others into the shop,” she says pointedly, pushing a finger into your arm gently. “And whatever issues you have with wanting to bone him.”

“Willow!” You gasp. “I do not want to bone him!”

“Sure, babe. You think you can fool me but I know you too well. Just try not to fuck him in the kitchen, alright? I don’t need the health inspector up our ass.”

The next early morning starts at 4:30 am, with you elbow deep in cookie dough for a catering order.  You’ve nearly forgotten about the new employee starting until the man himself strolls into the back kitchen as if he’s worked there for years.

“Hey!” He says cheerfully, two cups of coffee in his hands. “I got you a coffee. Willow said you’re a nightmare without some in the morning.”

Your eyes narrow at the man. It’s unfair how delicious he looked so early; while you look like a frizzy mess who rolled out of bed and walked into work (which you did), he looked polished and crisp and clean. It’s infuriating as much as it’s glaringly attractive.

“Thanks,” you mutter as you pick cookie dough off your hands and pull off your plastic sanitary gloves. “Every girl loves hearing she’s a nightmare.”

He chuckles behind his steaming cup and places yours on the workbench next to you.

“Those were her words, of course. I’d never call you a nightmare.”

You easily flush, then chastise yourself for allowing him to make you feel so weak so early in the morning.

“To be fair,” he continues. “I don’t even know your name.”

“___,” you sigh as you grab the coffee and bring it to your lips. “And you?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

The first sip of coffee is like a soothing hug. He somehow knew how you took your coffee—two creams and two sugars.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just guessed.”

“Good guess.”

Jimin smirks and looks proud of his accomplishment.

“You seem like the type of girl who likes balance to her sweetness.”

You stare at him curiously over your own steaming paper cup, unsure of what to make of his comment.

“Good morning to the love of my life!” Comes the voice of your best friend entering through the back door.

You roll your eyes in amusement as she teeters in, peppy and perky as she always is this early.

“Oh! Hi, Jimin.”  Her cheeks turn a familiar shade of rose as she realizes he heard her. “I didn’t know you were here yet.  That’s just a… thing we say to each other every morning.”

“Cute.” Jimin smirks at you, making your stomach lift with unwanted butterflies. “Where do you want me?”

Underneath you, beside you, above you, any possibly way...

You shake your head quickly to push away the sexual thoughts of the gorgeous man taking you from any position. No, you refuse to let your mind wander there.

Willow finishes washing her hands and putting on her apron before she nods to the fridge.

“If you can get the milk, eggs, and butter out, we’ll use you for creaming.”

Your cheeks heat impossibly as Jimin smirks even wider.

“Oh, I’m fantastic at creaming.”

Your hands pause from where they massage dough while you close your eyes and breathe, before lifting to glare at your best friend who wears a faux-innocent look.

“I’m sure you are, Jimin,” she chimes virtuously, before getting to work.

The next few weeks were a haze. You’re so caught up with graduations, birthdays, weddings and major events that your time spent at the shop overtakes your time sleeping, breathing, existing in any way that isn’t baking.

Even Jimin was busy.  Despite your initial hesitancy, he was proving to be an excellent third member of your team.  He’s a pro at sales—you’re sure his good looks and the mostly female clientele helps—and he pitches in in the kitchen without fail. He even tries his hand at decorating cakes, with only one frosting-based spill.  You would never give Willow the satisfaction of telling her outright, but she made an excellent decision in hiring the dazzling man.

But it doesn’t stop your annoying heart from fluttering every time he comes close to you—rubs elbows as he helps you roll out dough or smiles at you from across the workbench as he stamps out sugar cookies.  You refuse to allow yourself any thoughts on what it would taste like to lick dough off his fingers or how he would look bending you over the countertop to take you from behind.

You only allow such thoughts at night, safely tucked into bed with your vibrator cranked to the highest setting.

It doesn’t help that Jimin solidifies himself in your life by introducing his handsome and dopey best friend Jungkook to your gorgeous and clumsy best friend Willow.  The moment they laid eyes on each other, you knew you were doomed to have Jimin in your life with or without the bakery.

And you weren’t sure how to handle that notion.

Was Jimin flirting with you simply because you were there?  He seemed to have no problem flirting with the customers.  Sure, the shop has never made more money than when Jimin works his charms and seduces women of all ages to buy the extra cookies, cannolis, and cakes—not that you watched or glared or hated every second. No, of course not. It was for the good of your business and the angry jealousy demon inside you would need to stay firmly locked away.

Except, it’s on a particularly crowded day at the shop that your jealousy gets the best of you.

You’re up front assisting Jimin by boxing and bagging the treats he rings up.

You know he’s flirtatious, but it’s when he goes the extra mile for an extra pretty girl that you lose your cool on him the moment the customers leave.  

“Do you have to eye-fuck every single co-ed that walks in this place?!”

Your hands fly up in frustration, and Jimin watches you with a soft gaze.

His silence and knowing smirk makes you continue.

“Seriously? What the fuck was that about?! You’re acting like you’re about to bend her over right here in front of us! Jesus!”

Willow hears the commotion from the back and comes forward.

“What’s going on here?” She asks suspiciously.

You point towards Jimin who maintains his poised demeanor.

“I’m reminding Jimin that work is not a place to sexually engage our customers!”

Willow rolls her eyes as she pulls her apron off and grabs her coat from the hook.

“Whatever, you’re being ridiculous. Jimin’s never been inappropriate. Plus, he’s making us a fuck-ton of money,” she sighs. “You two can close up without killing each other right?”  She eyes you in particular.

You cross your arms and huff, glancing at the clock to find you have two hours still until closing. “Why? Where are you going?”

Willow’s annoyance fades away as if it never existed.

“Jungkook is taking me to the Museum of the Printing Press!”

You can’t help but choke a laugh while she pushes your arm.

“Shush! You know how much I love them! And he totally surprised me with tickets!”

Willow can’t shake that lovesick look in her eyes and your heart melts a little. She’s your best friend and you’re thrilled she’s found someone who wants to indulge her in her nerdy fascinations.

“Go have fun, babe,” you smile sincerely. “We can take care of closing. Now, go fuck on a letterpress or whatever!”

Willow snorts and hugs you tight, bids goodbye to Jimin, and exits the store.

Now that your quick anger is gone, you feel sheepish around the man who has yet to reply to your tirade—but you refuse to stick around under his piercing gaze.

“I’ll be in the back,” you mumble under your breath before slipping into the kitchen before he can get any word in edge wise.

You spend the rest of the evening monologuing an apology as you prep ingredients for the next morning and clean your workstations.  The shop is closed, doors locked, and Jimin is somewhere at the front of the house finishing his duties.

“‘Hey, I’m sorry for the way I acted’,” you practice out loud. “Hm—no, not humble enough. ‘Hey Jimin, I was a real bitch’, too degrading?  Maybe something like, ‘Hey Chim, can I call you Chim? That was fucked up, wasn’t it? Haha.’ God!” You throw your rag down in a huff, frustrated at your inability to form a decent apology.

“You can call me Chim, if you want,” a voice speaks from behind you.

You squeak in surprise and turn around, clutching your apron in your hands as you find Jimin leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face.

“Only my closest friends call me Chim, but I think we’re close enough.”

You swallow hard and nibble at your lip.

“I’m assuming you heard that whole… thing,” you mumble anxiously.  His nod confirms that he heard your entire play-by-play of the apology you would deliver to the handsome man.

“Yeah,” he licks at his lips. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re jealous.”

“J-jealous?” You nearly trip over your own tongue.  “I wasn’t—, I’m not jealous!”

Jimin begins a slow approach towards you, striding as he keeps his sparkling eyes on yours.

“Oh?”  He quirks his head, making his soft hair fall into his face.  You desperately want to push it away, cup his cheek, kiss those ridiculously plump lips.

He can tell you’re staring at this mouth and it makes his smirk turn nearly feral.

“So, you weren’t jealous? Not a single bit?”

He inches closer and you can feel your heart tighten in your chest and your stomach twists in on itself in excitement, in nerves.

“N-no,” you whisper, unconvincingly.

“You didn’t want to be the one I was making eyes at?  The one who ‘gets bent over the counter’ as you said?”

“I—,” Jimin cuts your words short as he stands a breath away from you.

“I guess if you weren’t jealous, then I don’t have to tell you you’re the one I really want to bend over the counter.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating—positive that it will fall from its place in your ribs into your feet.  

“What?”

Jimin cups a hand to your cheek and smiles as he steps even closer.

“If you’re not jealous, then I don’t have to reassure you you’ve got nothing to be jealous over.”

Your lips run dry, throat parched as if you’ve never had a sip of water.  Jimin is standing so close to you you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves.

“Jimin—,” you breathe and he continues forward until he presses you against the countertop and crowding you into the metal and wood.

“Tell me you were jealous.”

You gulp, eyes seeking his for an answer, for any information.  Is he playing you? Does he know you’re hopelessly attracted to him?  Does he find it humorous to tease you when Willow isn’t here to insert herself into your flirting.

“I was jealous,” you admit slowly. The words are hard to release, but once they do, the floodgates open. “I wanted to be the one you flirted with.  I was jealous because I want to be the one you notice.”

Jimin smirks, then pulls your face in quickly for a heated kiss.

His lips are just as plush, just as soft as you imagined.  They’re puffy and sweet and he tastes like one of the treacle tarts you made that morning.  He must have had one with lunch, and you find yourself addicted to the way he tastes with your creations on him. You wonder what he’d taste like with your arousal coating that tender, plump mouth.

He bites at your own lip and tugs, chucking under his breath as you mewl your desire at the slight hint of pain.

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re angry like that,” he breathes as he presses his forehead to yours.  “I nearly popped a boner while you were yelling at me. I could tell you were jealous, and it made me want you more.”

It’s hard to hear him speak so candidly—it makes you groan.

“Jimin—fuck,” you sigh. “I’ve been attracted to you since you walked into this goddamn place.”

He smirks and snags your lips up in another desperate, yet quick, kiss.

“I know.  It’s why you didn’t want me to work here.”

You grumble after he pulls away, tired of the teasing and wanting nothing more than to stop talking and start doing.

“I didn’t like you because you assumed I wasn’t the owner.”

He smiles and rubs at your arms, a softer expression crossing his face.

“No, but I hoped you were.”

It’s silent for a moment and you let his words wash over you as he continues.

“I was attracted to your authority.  I could tell you were important here somehow, just didn’t know in what way.”

You swallow your growing guilt.  You had clocked Jimin entirely wrong.

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you start.

“Hey, hey, I already heard your apology, remember?” He smiles.  “Although, I could think of a great way to mend the wounds if you’re interested.  No pressure.”

His soft smile becomes a devilish grin instantly and your body lights with instant arousal.

“What did you have in mind?”

His lips press to yours again and you nearly lose yourself completely in his embrace.  Your arms circle his neck and he holds you tight at your waist, before pulling away from you, yet again.

“I happen to be very good at creaming, if you’ll recall.”

You can’t hold back a snort of laughter, that quickly gets covered by Jimin’s hot lips, one’s he will not pull away from you any time soon.

“You want to, right here?” You ask as he trails a hot line down your throat.

“Yeah, do you?”  

You vaguely remember Willow’s threat of not fucking in the kitchen, but find you can’t seem to care an ounce.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

Jimin needs to hear no more.  He pulls you close and kisses you with the remaining amounts of pent-up passion and emotion he feels for you.  He’s grown to love the way you take charge, the way you move through the building like you own the place—because you do.  He loves the power you radiate and wants nothing more than to make you give up that power for a single night, to him.

“You wanna do this… all the way?” He asks, re-assuring himself that he’s not throwing himself at his boss.

“I want you, Jimin.  I want you to bend me over this workbench and fuck me until I’m crying for more.  Please.”

He grins and lays a hand on your neck, fingers tracing the gentle lines.  

“I might not let you boss me around,” he warns.

“Take control.”  Your eyes are blazing with need.  It makes him smile, and he gives the moment a slight pause.

“Then, get on your knees and show me just how sorry you are for yelling at me.”

You’re sinking to your knees quicker than you can comprehend.  Jimin is almost thrown at how instantly you caved and submitted to him.  He watches as your eyes stay fixed on his and your hands work at the button of his tight jeans.  

“That’s right,” he murmurs.  “Right where you belong.  No one else.”

You preen—heart warming at the idea that you’re the only one he wants kneeling before him and tugging his cock out of its confines.  

It springs forward, and it pulls your gaze from Jimin’s magnetic eyes.  It’s long and thick, just like you suspected all those nights with your vibrator stuffed where he should be.  Your mouth waters at the sight and you lean towards it to mouth at it gently—pressing soft open-mouth kisses to the tip.

“Oh, shit,” Jimin gasps.  Your fiery mouth feels like heaven on his cock.  It’s something he’s equally dreamed about—spent many nights fisting his cock to the thought of you.

You take your time, licking tiny stripes around the head and down the shaft, until Jimin becomes weary of the teasing.

“Please, take it all.”  His request is so genuine, so needy, that you’re loath to deny him.

He slips into your mouth with ease, slicked up just enough by your trailing kisses that he slides in and hits the back of your throat in seconds.  His eyes close as he feels his cock-head hit the back of your throat—a tighter and more constricting feeling in your already impossibly tight mouth.  It feels like absolute bliss, and he’s gasping for air after mere moments of you holding him inside your mouth to the hilt.

He doesn’t need to speak; you know what to do.  Your mouth works him in and out, tongue swirling around any open real estate of his cock.   His moans echo around the tile of the kitchen walls and he’s sure that the sight of you on your knees with his cock disappearing in and out of your mouth will have him cumming in no time.  

He steels himself, makes his body behave because he wants to enjoy this and the way you feel.  As good as your mouth feels, he’s desperate to know what it’s like to slide into that cunt he’s spent too many nights dreaming about.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as you make delicious, slurping noises from the gathering saliva.  It’s a wet squelching sound that makes him even harder than what he believes is possible—all blood in his head now completely rushed to his dick for his pleasure.

“B-Babe!” He calls as he feels his balls tightening.  He doesn’t want to cum, not yet.

He grips your head by the scalp of your hair and pulls you off his cock that is seconds away from losing control.

“Please, I’ve got to fuck you,” he nearly begs.

You wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and smirk, licking the tip of his cock teasingly before standing up to his full height.

Jimin’s hands fly to your expensive leggings that you insist on wearing to work while he kisses you.  The kiss is feverish, frantic. It’s full of tongue and teeth and desperate moaning against each other as he pushes down the pants and delicate panties, and cups your cunt in one hand.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as the pad of his finger slides against your clit.

“You’re fucking soaked.  All from sucking my cock?”  He’s cocky and sucks a mark onto your neck as he massages the bundle of nerves.

“Don’t be arrogant now,” you warn with a smile.

He presses his tongue to your ear and licks a stripe and chuckles.

“I think you like it when I’m arrogant. Your pussy sure seems to like it.”

He emphasizes his words by slipping two fingers into your channel and fucks into you, scissoring you open.  He cuts off any chance for you to retort by launching his lips back to yours and prowling around your mouth with his tongue.

His fingers are small but fill you so deeply, and you’re sure his hand is drenched with your arousal.

“J-Jimin, please,” you gasp as you pull your mouth away to breathe in deep.  “Please, just fuck me already.”

He growls into your ear.  

“I thought I told you you’re not in charge.”

He spins you easily until your back is pressed to his chest.  He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts, throwing the shirt away and quickly making work of your bra clasps to join the shirt on the floor.

His hands cup your full breasts and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling of his soft and warm hands.  He feels so good against the chilled skin of your chest and he tweaks and thumbs your nipples until they stand perky and erect.

“I’ve always wanted to bend you over this counter,” he muses in your ear as he pulls a nipple harshly.  It makes you squeak out at the pain, then moan as the pain turns into a sizzling, pleasurable spike that runs through your veins.

“Every time I would catch you staring at me, I just wanted to fuck your cute little throat until you were gagging around me.”

Your eyes close as he continues his abuse on your perky nipples and whispering his deepest thoughts about you.

“I wanted to lift your cute dresses and eat your cunt until you’re wailing loud enough all the customers can hear.”

“Jimin,” you nearly cry.  “Please, fuck me.”

You can feel his hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your sodden folds to cover his length in your slick juices.

“I like it when you beg.”

He kisses at the juncture of your neck before letting his teeth graze over the spot and bites down—right as he pushes your face down to the workbench and slides his cock into your spread heat.

He bottoms out easily.  You’re soaking wet and he buries himself to the hilt in one fluid motion.  He groans out loud—stunned by the heat and wetness of your pussy and how tight it grips him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he gasps as he gives himself and you a moment.  His hands grip at your waist, one hand coming to rub the tender skin of your supple ass.

“Jimin, fuck, you’re so big,” you whine.  

He brings his hand up, then slaps it down on your ass hard, hard enough that the crack echoes around the large kitchen.  You cry out in delight, in pain, as the reverberation of the stinging wraps around you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess,” he whines as he sets a pace.  Your ass meets his hips and claps with each thrust, and he punctuates every few pumps into you with another hard slap to your ass.  He wants you screaming his name, crying out for him loud enough that the neighbors know who he is.

He’s relentless in his pumps—gripping your hips tight as he fucks you deep and senseless.  Your eyes roll back into your head at how well he works your body.  Your tits rub raw against the wood of the workbench and you’re weeping fat tears of pleasure as Jimin continues his plight.

“God, I’m gonna cum, baby,” he warns.  “Cum on my cock, princess.”

You slide a hand down to your clit, eager to add the ultimate piece to what makes you unravel.  He grins and pumps into you harder, slaps your ass repeatedly until he knows it’s going to leave bruises.

“That’s right, baby, rub that pretty little clit,” he urges.  “God, I can’t wait until you you sit on my face and let me eat this fucking cunt for hours.”

You blubber a response of desire, nearly begging him for more and more, as you swirl your fingers around the tight bundle.  You’re peaking towards the summit of your climax, ascending to a point you’ve never gone before.

“Fuck, Chim!” You scream. “Gonna cum!”

Your warning falls on deaf ears—you’re cumming and pulsating around his thickness instantly and Jimin moans mix with your own to create a symphony of pleasure.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos.  “Your cunt is so good to me, baby.  Mmph—let’s frost this cake, now.”

Instantly, he’s groaning as he pulls his cock free from the vice-grip of your cunt and jerks himself twice to completion, allowing his hot seed to splatter against the tender flesh of your ass where he’s left a clear print of his hand.   The warmth soothes the battered skin and you shake your ass teasingly as he continues to stroke himself through his climax.

“Ohhhhh, my god,” he breathes as he finally comes down from his high.

Your face is resting on the cool surface of the wooden workbench as your breathing slowly settles back to normal.

“That was fucking good,” you whisper with a smile.  Jimin bends down to press soft kisses to your spine, before grabbing a towel to gently clean his cum off your beaten ass.

“Willow’s going to kill you for fucking me in the kitchen,” he warns with a laugh as he kisses the same spot he came on.

“It takes two to bake a cake, buddy,” you tease.

He laughs and brings a hand down to your untouched asscheek, making you squeal with delight.

“That’s not how the saying goes, but sure, doll.”

The next morning, you’re hard at work making a five-tiered wedding cake with Willow at your side, when Jimin throws open the door.

“Good morning to the loves of my life!”

Willow chokes on her own air while you hide a giggle behind your cake covered hand.

Jimin approaches the pair of you while she splutters and gasps.

“What?”  What happened last night after I left?”

Your cheeks heat and Jimin wears a face of pure cockiness.

“Oh my god,” Willow gasps as her eyes open wide, snapping your tender ass with her rag.  “You did NOT fuck in my kitchen!”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

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OPINION: I Don't Know Who'll Win the Anime Awards, But Here's Who Should 2021 The More Correct-er Edition

  Ah(hhhhhhh!), the Anime Awards. It comes earlier every year. It was only some 360-ish days ago that Demon Slayer took the coveted title, and I went 0/6 on my predictions for who would win. But as another awards show comes, much like the changing of the seasons, does a whole new collection of hot takes begin to bloom. And oh how I have been taking care of them like my new pandemic succulents (poorly)!!

  There's a lot you can say about the last year. There's a lot you can say about the last year in ANIME! But since I don't have a Clubhouse invite yet, you're gonna have to hear about it right here in written form. This is also the only opportunity I have on company time to talk about who should win and who actually should have gotten nominated in the first place, as well as make up my own totally fake awards because this is my article!!

  When presented with the likelihood of something being infinitely close to zero, Simon from Gurren Lagann said that means it isn't inherently zero, so as far as he's concerned, that makes it the same as a 100 percent chance. That's the sort of cartoon logic that is very healthy to bring into the real world, as well as guessing who is going to win an awards show, so let's get to it! 

  1. Best Director: Shingo Yamashita

  While he is not nominated, Shingo Yamashita has had an incredible year, not only directing two of my favorite openings, but also ones I could consider all-time highs. Simply put, I really like the guy and his art direction, and he always seems to deliver something unique and interesting when he is in the director's chair. Through that unique style, he was able to work with a team of really talented animators to make that statement right from Episode 1. Pay attention to the people in your life who have opinions on the direction of the Naruto vs. Pain fight, but then turn around and talk about how cool the aforementioned openings are.  

2. Best Japanese VA Performance: Mamoru Miyano's Kansai Accent

  This is a very indulgent choice (well, this whole article is), but out of all the voice actor performances this year, I'm still thinking about Mamoru Miyano's Kansai accent. Playing the volleyball star Atsumu Miya from Inarizaki High in HAIKYU!! TO THE TOP, either Miyano or the people he worked with really made sure to train him to have the thickest Kyoto accent imaginable, and I was enthralled. It's kinda hot? I think Miyano works best when he plays characters with a bit of an edge and goofiness to them (see his performance Kotaro Tatsumi in Zombie Land Saga), so having him star as the eccentric setter was a perfect fit. I do wonder if Atsumu Miya and Kotaro Tatsumi ever met if it would be an unstoppable force/immovable object situation.  

3. The "You Were Right" Award: Akudama Drive

Image via Funimation  

This is not a real award in this year's Anime Awards, but I think it deserves mention for a series that was so under-nominated. So, Akudama Drive started last October and everyone was losing it. One person (I think it was our own Adam Wescott) described it as "a show where every episode feels like the season finale." But I continued putting it off. Sure, the first episode has a guy who swings around Osaka like Spider-Man on his motorcycle, but there's no way it could keep up. I also haven't played any Danganronpa, so I wasn't familiar with this sort of Kazutaka Kodaka romp, as his storytelling and style is written all over it. But after the show finished, I went back and gave it an honest shot ... and you were all right! It's really great and doesn't let off the octane at any point! This was definitely one of the strongest series I watched this last year, with its pointed cyberpunk storytelling and a particularly fantastic season finale — which might be my favorite episode. So whatever categories Akudama Drive is nominated in, sure, I think it should win ... wait, it was only nominated for Best Fight Scene!?  Anyway, I should have listened to you all sooner. Mr. Kodaka, I'm sorry for doubting you. 

4. Best Animation: Beastars

Image via Netflix

  As I wrote in our Best of the Decade list last year, Studio Orange's utilization of 3D animation is a treasure to behold and a jewel of the industry. Eiji Inomoto and the staff at Orange are putting out shows that are frankly the gold standard for the form. Beastars is no exception, far exceeding any expectations I had for what an adaptation of Paru Itagaki's animal drama would look like. However, in the case of Beastars, it's not only the CG, but also the multitude of other animation styles the staff integrated throughout the show, and none of those unique styles ever repeats! I think it says a lot for a studio and a show that not only perfects its main style but also includes phenomenal companion pieces that are fantastic on their own. For such drive and direction, and excellence in their field, not only would it be a win for Beastars, but also a win for the everlasting creativity coming out of Studio Orange. 

  5. Anime of the Year: Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!

  In any other time, I would have chosen Beastars as the Anime of the Year winner (see my praise above). But this hasn't been any other year. It's been quite a terrible one, to be honest. But in some sort of cosmic irony, Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! started 2020 as one of the most optimistic and deep-hearted series I've ever seen.

  A lot of people pitch Eizouken as an anime about making anime. I agree, to an extent. Anime seems to be the surface for the themes the show is playing with, as it's far more a series about the creative process and the imaginative fuel artists use when molding their ideas into something tangible. It's also about the interpersonal relationships of those creatives and how people can create community and teams around their strengths and weaknesses. It's also about how tiring and expensive it is to make one of these things! Truly, it takes a village. Eizouken grabbed a lot of anime fans' attention early last year, particularly those who enjoy these sorts of explorations of the artistic mind. My former editor and good friend Zac Bertschy was one of them and wrote the episode reviews for Eizouken every week. Each time I read one of his articles, that passion and enthusiasm lept off the page. And let me tell you, when Zac was passionate about something, he'd let you know. His thoughts and takeaways were genuine to an extent I hadn't seen in a while. This series truly was something special to him. Zac's passing still hurts, and seeing Eizouken's nomination continues to remind me of what was not so long ago. But seeing it nominated in the first place gives me confidence that anime fans around the world also saw that passion Masaaki Yuasa and Science Saru were presenting. Seeing Eizouken take a big win would be a triumph for the art and artistry we all love so much, as well as an exemplary showcase of the drive that truly makes this stuff magical. Jonathan Clements ended his book Anime: A History with a line I've been thinking about recently: "... the future of anime as an art form, and as a thing of enduring value, still rests as it did at the time of its inception, in the hands of artists and artisans with vision." I truly believe Eizouken is a celebration of that ethos. And for that, I hope it wins Anime of the Year.

  Anyway, as always, waitin' for the big one when I'm 5/5 on these predictions.

        Kyle Cardine is an Associate Editor for Crunchyroll. You can find his Twitter here!

By: Kyle Cardine