#body lift in dubai | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaegeraether · 4 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 79)

Alexia Putellas x Character (35) - Ridley Part One

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**4.5k**))

This is PART ONE of TWO for Ridley. You DO NOT have to read this! This is simply me getting out what's been in my head for a while about Ridley and her darker side and military ties. Although this one isn't bad at all, part two will be a lot more graphic and morally grey.

Any Australian military mentions such as squadron types and specialties are 100% real and researched.

Feel free to skip these two Ridley parts as you won't be missing anything in the main story. :)

RIDLEY POV PART ONE

Ridley’s body was thrown into the straps of her five-point harness relentlessly. She was sitting in the jump seat of a C17 – a last minute military aircraft she’d caught from London to Dubai. She just needed to escape. To get far away from her in the hopes that it would stop her from hurting Alexia. She wasn’t too concerned with hurting herself.

“The CAT is easing, Commander,” came the voice of the pilot through her head set. “We’re almost through it.”

CAT – Clear Air Turbulence. Ridley was tired, but she couldn’t sleep. She was seated in the cargo hold which was devoid of any other human except herself. “Copy.”

The flight was 7 hours long, and most of it she’d spent staring a thousand-yard stare into that void of the cargo hold just thinking about her. Alexia. The way she’d whispered, moaned, begged for her. The way she felt, the way she tasted and fucking moved with her. Her sounds when she whimpered, when she’d was pushed to her limits… when she came. It had broken Ridley, like she knew it would. How could she ever want anything less than all of her after that? No, she deserved more. She deserved the whole fucking world, and not the monster she was. Alexia had no idea what she was getting herself into with her, and she needed to protect her from herself.

They landed at 2pm local time and she caught a lift into town with one of the senior ranked officers on base. Ridley was known in the military world, and she’d been around. Met a lot of people. Worked hard and climbed the ranks. She was respected for her accomplishments, and now could come and go as she pleased, as she held such a high security clearance.

“Are you sure, Commander?” The officer asked.

Ridley nodded. “Here is perfect. Thanks for the lift.”

“Give us a call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

He left and she waited for him to do so. Only when he was gone did she jump on public transport to get to where she was actually going. She was used to frequenting Dubai for a few reasons, one of which being that it was central and in her line of work, that was essential.

She exited the train and moved over to the bus line, making sure she wasn’t followed as she went. Always aware. Always watching. Avoiding cameras and drawing attention. The bus moved through six stops and she stepped off just before the doors closed. From there she walked to her destination, stopping at a café on the way to pick up some sweets. A popular local sweet dish in Dubai that she loved was knafeh, which she bought along with filled donuts which were a must.

She paid for her items, adding a bottle of water to the list and was off down the street. She arrived at her destination at around 2:45pm and stopped outside, looking up at it. It was a mechanic shop. And not just any mechanics, the best in town. Anyone who knew Dubai knew that expensive cars were a given. Almost everyone had one. And this was the place they all fought for bookings at.

She walked into the open floor planned warehouse which was lined down the outer edges with cars on different levels, each getting work done, and each more expensive than the last. Ferrari, Lamborghini, Aston Martin, Bugatti, Maserati, Rolls Royce. She walked through and acknowledged each nod she received from the people who worked there. She came upon the office of the owner and knocked twice, opening before he answered.

“Ridley!” The voice boomed. Ali was a rich man, though not the egotistical type. In fact, he was rather the opposite. Most of the money he made went straight back into humanitarian efforts and other philanthropic endeavours.

She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek as she placed the knafeh on his desk in front of him.

“For you.”

He hummed as he looked her up and down. “You seem different…” he said in a strong Arabic accent.

Of course she did. She was fucking heartbroken. Grieving. In love with Alexia and forcing herself to break her heart. Plus, she hadn’t slept in 46 hours and had been wearing the same clothes she’d thrown on hastily as she’d left her in bed 9 hours ago.

“I haven’t slept in a few days.”

“No, no. There’s something else…” he murmured, still wondering. Eventually he gave up like people usually did. Ridley was a closed book. “But alas, I think I’m tired myself. I’m guessing you’re here for that?” He asked, gesturing to the wall.

She nodded.

“I was told you weren’t coming. Are you staying for long?”

“Unsure.”

“You’re welcome as long as you’d like. Anything you need.”

Anything you need. She heard that during almost every conversation when she was in Dubai. Another reason she enjoyed the place so much.

He smiled as he opened the box and she forced herself to give one in return. It’s not that she didn’t want to – just that it was difficult to fake any sort of positive emotion at this point.

Ridley turned and moved through the second door in his office. The one that was barely used. It led to the part of the warehouse that no one was allowed to enter except Ali and a select few individuals. The individuals she was there to meet.

She entered to the darkened part of the warehouse and was greeted by four heads turning towards her with the majority of their expressions showing they were caught off guard. All except the one person standing. The big guy.

He stood in front of the trio with a projector behind him, and his hands held behind his back with discipline. Beckett. That's what everybody else called him. That or Lieutenant. To her, he was Becks.

The trio sat casually in front of him, their chairs met with desks either side for their notes and food. Their faces spread into grins as she approached, placing the donuts on the table.

“Oh no, she’s here! Fucking knew this was another BOHICA,” said the little guy known as Fuzzy. His real name was Kaupa and he was SASR for Australian Army. They all were. Together, the group was made up the Fourth Squadron of the Special Air Service Regiment, though the government had never acknowledged their existence, nor ever would.

To the public, there were four official Squadrons. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd were sabre Squadrons, made up of 20 troopers with differing expertise, and they rotated through counter terrorism/special recovery and warfighting/reconnassaince. Then there was the 152nd Squadron designed for electronic warfare and to support the sabre squadrons. There were more, of course, though these four were the basis of the SASR for Australia and were always closely supported by the Australian Secret Intelligent Service for any of their missions and activities.

Their fourth squadron was not the usual. Instead of five of each in their special fields, there was one of each. And they were the best.

First, there was the little guy, Fuzzy. He was called Fuzzy because he was born in Papua New Guinea and during WW2, the Australian soldiers in PNG named the locals the ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels’ as they helped them, cared for them, gave them medical attention in support. Kaupa fit that description. He was a little loose cannon, though the best when it came to his specialty. Mountaineering and jungle warfare. You’d never even know he was there until you were dead.

The next was a typical Australian guy named Williams, though they called him Wombat. Short for eats, shits and leaves. Crass, but true. He never settled down and never slept with the same woman twice. The typical womaniser, though Ridley loved him. He was unapologetically himself and he was well aware of his shortcomings. You had to be a bit of a nutcase to be in their profession. His specialty was Airborne. He could pilot anything like Ridley, and she’d met him when they were in the Air Force together, prior to their being poached by the SASR.

The last of the trio was a woman named Morgan. Her nickname though, was Duce, short for Medusa. Why? Because she could level a man with a gaze and wasn’t there to fuck around. She was the toughest of the trio. Her specialty was Mobility. That was ground movements, land movements, logistics, terrain and sniping.

She grinned at Ridley who returned it without a second thought. These were her family away from family. The people she trusted with her life. Though she trusted no one beyond the big guy. Becks. His specialty was Water. Scuba diving, water raids, submarines, etc. They ran the Squadron together for some time and although she held a higher rank in the Air Force, they both held the same in the Army and refused to be made higher. They didn’t want a desk job or to be put in command of more platoons and squadrons. No, their job was perfect and to be quite honest, she doubted that anyone could replace any single one of them. That’s why they were so successful. That’s why everybody in that dark side of the world knew them, and yet the public never would. They did the terrible things so that people could live their lives in peace and a blind happiness.

“You always think it’s a BOHICA,” Ridley murmured as she stood next to Duce. The woman wrapped an arm around her waist and smirked up at her.

“We both know Fuzzy loves a bit of bending over and taking it.”

BOHICA: Army slang for ‘Bend over here it comes again’ i.e. we’re being fucked.

“Now, now, there’s no problem with swinging both ways,” Wombat teased with a wink. He wasn’t just a womaniser for women, that one. Wombat loved everybody.

“I didn’t think you were coming for this one, Wings.” Becks said from the front. The others went quiet. He was very well respected. They both were. And he was the only one who called her that.

She shrugged. “I was bored. Besides, I figured you’d all need the help.”

“Oh no she didn’t.” Wombat challenged and stood.

“Bad idea bad idea, Romeo will smack you down,” Fuzzy said – wanting to see the result.

“Need help huh?” He fake challenged again.

Ridley stepped forwards and got close to him. Real close. The one thing he couldn’t control with her was his dick, and she had never, nor would she ever have done anything past a friendly touch with him. So now with her so close, he froze and as her lips closed in on his, she swept his leg and shoved him hard in the chest, forcing him to fall hard on his ass on the chair.

“Keep dreaming, Wombat.”

He grinned and stuck his hands up in surrender.

Ridley took her seat near Duce and put her attention back on Becks. “The floor is yours.”

Becks started presenting their mission again, throwing her a pack to read through.

“Here’s the finer details, the basis of it is that we’ve had a task we need to complete tonight. The son of one of the biggest political figures in Dubai needs recovering. His father is of vital importance to the current political stability in the middle east. He keeps the peace between Dubai and the western countries, including Australia.”

“Where is the son?”

“Taken hostage by Somali pirates. They’re using him as a bargaining chip to have his father cut the relationship between the middle east and western countries, and also money. Lots of money.”

He wasn’t saying the full story and she knew it. “Spit it out, Becks.”

He studied her face with a neutral expression before he spoke. “Cumar has him.”

Fuck.

Cumar was one of the largest crime lords in Somalia. Up until this point, they hadn’t managed to capture or kill him. Though he had killed one of their own. One of the pilots she and Wombat had trained with. He’d killed him right in front of her as she hung from the fucking ceiling, beaten and bloody. She was lucky the group had found her in time. She had more than a few scars from that incident. That was the last time she’d disappeared from Alexia.

Cumar, however, had escaped. He was currently the most wanted man on the globe.

She turned and looked at Wombat whose jaw was locking and unlocking. James was his friend too. It was difficult to not involve emotions.

“This is not revenge,” Becks said, reading their minds. “This is an overdue extraction. He’s been with him for two weeks now.”

“Two weeks? Where the fuck are the SAS? Why didn’t they handle this?” Wombat growled. He had a point; they had a lot more riding on it.

“They’re stuck in the Ukrainian conflict, and the uprising in the middle east at the moment between Palestine and Israel.”

“Seals?”

“They tried. They lost contact with them before they even reached his base and the yanks received some… prizes in return.”

Body parts.

Cumar.

“They believe this to be impossible. They want the best.”

Silence again. They were an interesting group of personalities, though they all had that intellectual and professional persona when it was serious.

“You wouldn’t look so confident without a plan..” Ridley murmured.

“This is mainly mobility so Duce has made a plan and we need to expand on it and see if it’s viable.” They nodded. “Duce?”

They switched places, Duce taking the front and Becks sitting in the seat near Ridley. He put a hand on her shoulder briefly. That’s the most physical affection he tended to show, though it meant everything.

“I’ve been liaising closely with ASIS and we believe his location to be here,” she said, pointing to an area on the map. She spoke of the location, identified the hazards and from the intelligence they were given, where their security were posted. They all listened carefully, adding their expertise here and there to overcome each of the potential issues that were already onsite or that may arise at some point as they made their detailed extraction plan. As they were talking – Ridley knew that coming here had been the right choice. Sure, she hadn’t slept in two days, but this… this was distracting. It was the only thing that could have distracted her from the thought of Alexia.. the softness of her skin… the feel of her hands tangled with her own as she fucked her from-

“Romes?”

Ridley looked up and Duce smiled. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were tired.”

“Mmnhmn.”

“We were talking about this. This is where we believe the Seals had an issue. They chuted in but their carrier was spotted and fired upon. From there, they were already dead, it was just a matter of picking them off when they touched ground. There’s this strip here that we’ve noted which may potentially be large enough to land at…”

“If their carrier was spotted then engine noise is our other issue,” Wombat said before turning to Ridley. “Can we glide in?”

Wombat was a fucking good pilot. But he knew what he was asking was dangerous and beyond anything he’d done before. Ridley had much more experience testing the limitations of aircraft and maximising the efficiency of an aircraft within the relative airflow.

She stood and Duce automatically stepped aside. Ridley pulled up the live map of the landing strip, she checked the wind, the cloud levels, the distance to the first potential group of people who may hear them. She’d need to shut down engines early… though from the look of the air pressure and wind…

“It’s dangerous. It has the potential to go very, very wrong. But it’s not impossible. With the weight of everybody here… we can use a plane small enough for the strip. It’s a full moon with direct contact to the strip so we will have okay visibility without lights when we go engines out. We can pull lighting just as we come down to flare, the trees will cover it by then. The biggest issue is getting an aircraft with an incredibly high aspect ratio. Think gliders… with an engine.”

“What’s the range needed?” Wombat asked.

“If we get approval to base and depart from Mandy Bay… the round trip will be around 1000 nautical miles.”

“So… bladder tank.”

She nodded. “Definitely. We’ll calculate the fuel needed for the return before we land and dump the excess fuel for weight as we glide in.”

“Do we have contacts in Kenya?” Becks asked.

“I do,” Wombat nodded. “I have a guy who’ll have the aircraft we need. I’ll make a call.”

Becks nodded and turned back to Ridley. “We can do this?”

“I’ll need to monitor every and all weather changes, but for now, it will work. The strip is north east facing, directly into the forecasted wind. It’s also almost the perfect amount of headwind for the direction we hit it, and it’ll give us a bit of leeway too. Cumar’s location is north. It’ll be hard to hear us as we’ll be downwind of where they are. I’m thinking we can switch off the engine a little later than anticipated because of it. It may end up being a bit of a crash landing, though, depending.”

Duce chuckled and Fuzzy scoffed. “It’s all been crash landings with Wombat since you’ve changed to coming and going as you please. How’s life as a civvy?”

Civvy – a civilian. She rolled her eyes and ignored the attempt to get a reaction from her.

“Happy with the risk?” She asked.

Becks nodded and stood, offering a hand. He wasn’t big on physical affection, though this was a treat. She clapped hands with his large, rough one.

“I’m glad you’re here, Wings.” He was the only one to call her Wings, and she the only one to call him Becks. Their own little way of showing their respect.

“Me too,” she smiled. She was glad she’d come, knowing that she was the only one who could land this.

“But you’re sleeping on the cargo plane before we arrive.”

To anyone else, they would have taken that as an order. Although she’d moved to part time, coming and going when she wanted, it still didn’t take away her rank or the respect they had for her. Beckett always treated her like an equal, although he was technically the sole squadron leader now. She listened to him talk about sleep though, and she knew it was coming from a caring place. He wanted her safe. And the group. Fatigue was a liability.

“Wilco.”

An hour later, they were on another military aircraft to Kenya. Ridley had found a medevac stretcher and had settled there with her jacket over her eyes. She slept through the flight and only woke as they touched down. The landing gear hit the runway and she jolted upright automatically awake. Fuzzy looked at her and gave a somewhat sad smile. They all tended to have those reactions, after what they’d seen. And although the PTSD was mild and well managed with therapy – they all knew they were stuck with it for the rest of their lives.

They stepped outside to a bright moonlit night at the US military base of Mandy Bay, Kenya. Flying backwards, they’d gained an hour, as it was only 8pm. They were greeted by officers and taken straight to their prep room. Ridley and Wombat detoured on their way to scout the plane they were to use and made sure it was satisfactory for the job.

“Happy?” He asked as he inspected a prop.

She nodded from her place under the wing. “This will work.”

“How much fuel, Commander?” The US officer asked from his ladder. He was filling the bladder tank in the back of the aircraft.

“Hold five. And move it more central for our weight and balance. We can’t have an aft centre of gravity with the structure of this.”

“Yes, Commander.”

As he and another soldier moved the bladder tank more central under Wombat’s supervision, Ridley took out her tablet and double and triple checked her flight plans with the updated forecast of winds and weather.

“I need full wing tanks and that bladder with an extra 280 litres. I’m going in to prep. Standby in case the winds change before we leave.”

“Affirm - full wing tanks and 280 litres in the bladder.”

Their prep took hours – as it should. They were very, very thorough. It was rare they were ever caught out by surprises or unplanned events. They collected their packs, their weapons, and ran through their strategies with updated intelligence. Whatever happened – they didn’t exist. She wondered what Alexia and Blue would be told if she weren’t to come back. If she were to be killed. To be fair, she just wanted them both safe and happy. And then her will would provide the extra cushion of financial support for them.

Their off-blocks time was 10pm. They flew straight north, following the coast as the moon reflected the waves below. They flew high enough to not be heard, yet low enough to not be seen. There was a single road that ran across the border of Kenya, into Somalia and towards their target. It looked empty from above, yet they all knew better. There were definitely more of Cumar’s people checkpointing the road. Duce had intelligence on a few areas to expect them should they have to escape via road, though not all of them.

Being stuck in a situation where they couldn’t be seen or heard to approach, it meant they needed to conduct a non-conventional approach to the landing strip over water. This was to avoid the noise over the land. Ridley dropped them low over the ocean and joined an extended base for the strip. In the moonlight, they spotted it, but barely.

“Engines out is final.” She reminded. “We won’t be attempting to restart and we will be landing, regardless.”

“Affirm,” Wombat agreed from the right seat.

As they approached the height of engine out, he started to read her airspeed and altitude. This was the most difficult part by far.

“On spec… on spec… plus 4 on slope… plus 7 on slope… plus 10 on slope…”

Ridley had purposely increased her approach speed to compensate for the upcoming lack of power.

“Plus 15, plus 50…. 200 above engine out… plus 20, plus 80… 100 above engine out… 50 above engine out.”

“Established. Engines out.” She directed.

“Copy – engines out. Engine 1…”

Wombat shut down the first engine and Ridley compensated for the yaw with her foot pressed hard into the rudder.

“Feather engine 1.”

“Feathering engine 1…” The pressure needed from her leg eased as it feathered. “Engine 1 feathered. Engine 2 out…” He said with his hand on the second throttle.

“Affirm, engine 2 out.”

Wombat shut down the second engine, cutting the mixture and all went silent. They were gliding.

She compensated for the tiniest bit of yaw before, “Feather engine 2.”

“Feathering engine 2…” The need for rudder was eliminated until it was just to account for the wind. “Engine 2 feathered.”

“Gliding, lights out.”

“On speed, 50 below.”

He read her speeds and altitudes all the way down the approach, as was usual for a multi-crew environment. She checked her fuel and was satisfied with the remaining amount.

“Dump the bladder.”

Becks, Fuzzy and Duce dumped the bladder tank from the aircraft which made it lighter and put her back on slope.

“On spec.”

She’d adjusted perfectly for the engine outs and the weight loss from the bladder, and she could hear it in Wombat’s voice.

“Wind 030 at 15.”

She’d noticed the wind had shifted to a slight crosswind, though it was manageable. It was more difficult with a high aspect ratio of course. Longer wings means more area for the crosswind to push, though she worked the rudder and ailerons to crab into the landing strip.

“300 above. On spec…. minimums…”

“Continue.”

“200 above on spec. Lights on?”

“No until the flare,” she murmured. The trees were lower than she’d expected, and didn’t want to risk the lights being seen. “Lights at 70.”

“Affirm.”

“100 above.”

They were only 100 feet above the ground and descending at a rate that would result in disaster. But that’s exactly where she wanted to be.

“70 feet, lights.” Wombat said – powering the lights.

Ridley had a split second of vision to flare relative to the ground. She did so and held pressure back on the yoke, not having to compensate for the wind that was now blocked by the tree line. She held back pressure until the mains touched, and slowed with brakes until she could let the nose wheel down.

“Lights off.”

They went back to darkness, moonlight only, though that was enough. Ridley made the most out of the momentum of the aircraft to roll it to the far end of the strip and pumped the right brake in stages to turn them back around near the tree line. Ready for a quick getaway.

They stopped and parked there, pulling the park brakes on. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“That was fucking extraordinary.” Duce said, speaking for the others. She leapt out first, with her pack and rifles.

Fuzzy tapped her shoulder in thanks on his way out also. “Missed you.”

Wombat gave her a grin. “You’ll always upstage me, huh?”

“Someone needs to keep you on your toes.” She shrugged as she took her headset off.

He leapt out and she went to follow suit when Becks murmured from behind her. “There will never be another you, Wings.”

The highest of Becks compliments. She didn’t have time to respond before he was out on the ground.

Ridley slipped out last, hitting the floor harder than usual with the weight of her pack. Now they were in Cumar’s territory. Any step could be their last.

All of the group were hyper focused on their surroundings and automatically took up positions where their backs were to each other, protecting each other. Regardless - Ridley hadn’t even had a chance to join when she felt a body against her back, and a knife pressed so hard into her stomach that it pierced through flesh.

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #woso x reader #alexia putellas #fcb femení #lionesses #fc barcelona #fc barca #culers

80 notes · View notes

riboism · 2 years

Text

ungodly hour

pairing: j.yh x (f) reader content: pool sex, established relationship, valentine’s day, public sex, manhandling, dirty talk wc: 900

a/n: I think about that yunho dubai poolside pic maybe 2-3 times a day

“Yunho.”

He only hummed into your lips, having no intention of breaking away from the kiss just yet, no matter how much you whined. It was Valentine’s Day weekend, and Yunho surprised you with a trip to a couple’s retreat in the city. The hotel you were staying at has a pool, and your boyfriend begged you at the odd hour of midnight to come down and join him for a swim.

It was innocent at first, until a game of tag led you to be pushed up against the edge of the pool while Yunho locked his lips with you from above and teased you with his bulge below the water. He had been rubbing fronts with you for a while now, and you could feel him growing as he did. You finally managed to break away from the kiss, gasping for air as you tried to warn your very excited boyfriend.

“Someone can walk in and see us!”

He clicked his tongue and pulled you closer to him by your waist. “Trust me, no one’s going to come in this late. Come on, it’ll be fun. Didn’t you say you wanted to spice things up a bit?” He winked.

Being busy and working adults, sex with Yunho had become pretty mundane and predictable, even with all the manhandling. You suggested spicing things up and trying new things this weekend, but public sex wasn’t necessarily on your list. “I don’t know…”

Yunho’s lips trailed down to your chin before he made it to the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. His fingers toyed with your swim top’s strap, slowly pulling it down from your shoulder. “Please baby. Need you right now.” He mumbled into your skin. He was rock hard now, mindlessly rutting his thick bulge over your clothed clit. He was so far gone that it would require a lot of work to get him off you, but if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t want to stop just yet. Feeling his cock tease you like this only made you want him more, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to wait until you made it back to your rooms to continue.

Reaching down into the water, you undid the knot on his swimming trunks while Yunho looked down at you with a boyish grin. He loved the pained look on your face and was completely smitten over the fact that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you right now. Trying to pull his trunks down was more difficult under water, and you looked at him with desperate and pleading eyes when he didn’t bother helping you out. “Yunho,” you cried in frustration “hurry.”

With haste, Yunho pulled his trunks down just enough to release himself. He lifted you up from the back of your thighs and you immediately locked your legs around his waist. He pulled your panties to the side and began lining his leaky tip up with your entrance, forcing a small gasp out of your lips when you felt him rubbing against your achy core. “Fuck, gonna take me right here right now, baby?” He teased.

The stretch is usually a little painful because of Yunho’s size, but the pool water helped ease you onto him better. It was too slippery for you to move, so you wrapped your arms over his neck and held on the best you could while he grabbed onto your waist and moved you up and down his length to his own pace. Sometimes, you let him choose the pace, allowing him to use your body at his will. Afterwards, he’d kiss the bruises he left from his tight grasp on your waist.

It was hard to keep quiet with the way Yunho dragged you over his cock, his hard tip reaching so deep inside you. If anyone was around, they’d definitely know what you two were up to. Yunho adored how vocal you can get, but he also didn’t want to get kicked out of the hotel in the middle of the night.

“Gotta do something about those pretty little moans baby.” He said, before dismantling you from him. His hands took authority over you, guiding you to turn around so you were sandwiched between him and the edge of the pool, your back pressed against his chest. You knew what he wanted to do next, but you let him pull your hips closer to him before he rammed into you from behind. Yunho caught your moans with his palm, his long fingers squeezing your cheeks as he did so. “Have to stay quiet, baby. Fuck, you feel so good.” He whispered into your ear. “Tiny little pussy taking my cock like this…gonna take all my cum too?”

You let out a muffled yes into his hand, earning you a chuckle from Yunho. “That’s my girl.”

The sound of your skin slapping together got more and more delayed, a sign that he was close. You dipped your hand under the water to work your way up to your own high, but Yunho already beat you to it. His fingers glided over your clit perfectly, giving you the perfect amount of pressure before you two finally reached your peaks.

Your walls clenched around him, squeezing out every last drop of his essence. His head fell into the crook of your neck, and you kissed his head softly as he calmed down.

“We have to do this again.” He panted.

You giggled at his enthusiasm. “Absolutely not.”

🎧 ungodly hour- chloë x halle

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho oneshot #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez smut drabbles

740 notes · View notes

fredwkong · 1 year

Note

Hey man, been lifting for a good 3 years now and I'm loving the growth, but i'm nowhere near my end goal size. Think you could help me achieve my dream body of a sweaty, hairy arab bodybuilder? thanks.

If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a personal hand in helping you through this transformation. I mean, you did ask for my help, not Himbo Maker’s.

A few days after you submit your request, some friends start complimenting you on your tan. Yeah, it’s the end of summer, you’ve been getting out a bit, but you’re more the type to burn in the sun than brown at all. But when you look in the mirror, you’re definitely several shades darker than you used to be. And is that… hair on your face?

You chalk it up to a natural test increase. I mean, you’re hitting PRs every time you lift, lately. You must have changed something in your diet or habits, that’s all. Sure, you find yourself posing cockily every time you pass a mirror now, but you’re just admiring the absolutely disgusting pumps you’ve been getting, and checking out the thickening beard on your tan cheeks.

When the sleeves burst on your favourite shirt, you have to admit that you’ve been growing at an unreal rate. Your biceps added, what, six inches to their circumference in as many weeks? All that extra size and body hair has you sweating all the fucking time, so you always look oiled up, and the stench of sweat emanates off you in waves.

It seems like all this extra muscle’s been powered with brains, though. All you seem to be able to talk about these days are your PRs, your social media presence, and your upcoming trip to Dubai. You can’t wait to party, lift, and fuck 24/7 with tons of other like-minded Arab bros. Better take another duck-faced flexing selfie to get all your new bros horny thinking about you!

I can't wait to see how enormous you'll get on your trip.

#male transformation #mental change #answered ask #muscle tf #dumber tf #race change #male tf #musk tf #arab tf #broification #all fwkong

256 notes · View notes

paddockbunny · 2 years

Note

Your comments about Pierre have me wanting a Pierre oneshot from you!!!

The Moustache Test Drive

Summary: Pierre finally gave into you and grew in the moustache to his beard…but he wants you to “test drive” it to make sure it stays Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader Word Count : 1,793. Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult content, adult language, oral female receiving, slight fingering, slightly rough action 💞Authors Note : Seeing as Mr Gasly hasn’t given us any gif worthy clips of his delicious new addition (if he still indeed has it) then we’ll roll with this hot af one ✌🏼

You buzzed with excitement. It wouldn’t be long till you were off the plane and back with your new boyfriend to celebrate the New Year. You had only properly been dating Pierre for the past three months and everything was still new and thrilling. And while you felt like you were in a fast paced, blissful haze you also felt strangely settled and content with him. All of your friends back home were right though when they told you not to get ahead of yourself and just take the moments as they came. You knew he had a bit of a history with short term relationships (and being a massive flirt) so knew to keep things at a nice steady pace instead of jumping head first into things. But none the less, as soon as the wheels of your plane touched down in Dubai you couldn’t contain yourself.

Pierre text you as soon as you were off the plane and heading toward the first class luggage reclaim area to get your luggage (as Pierre had booked your seat for you he spared no expense) to tell you that he was waiting for you in the arrivals hall. You were so eager to get through and get your hands on him. You had last seen him two weeks ago and yet you were addicted to him your fingers tingled for wanting to be on his skin.

While the lovely man from the airline pushed your multiple bags for you on a trolley you broke out into a gigantic smile when you saw him. Pierre was standing there waiting for you with a smile on his own face too. And then something just grasped hold of you and you broke into a slow sprint to get to him quicker. And when you reached him his arms engulfed you and you were lifted clean off your feet. “Fuck, I’ve missed you!” He sighed as he held your body to his. All you could think of was how it felt to be back in his energy and how strong his body felt around you. As Pierre lowered you back to your feet you needed his lips on yours, you craved it above all else. Your hand went to the back of his head and he got the hint but right as his lips touched yours something was different and you immediately pulled your head away to check. “Pierre!” You gasped and he looked at you with mocked confused as to why you had stalled. “What is that?” It came out of your mouth without even thinking but it wasn’t because you were appalled it was because it was amusing and you realised he had listened to your pleas. “Oh! This?” He tan his fingers over the newly formed hair filling the space between his upper lip and his nose. “I’m trying it out….my girlfriend begged me.” He did that signature Gasly smirk and cheeky tongue thing that drove you wild. “I didn’t beg you.” You playfully tried to correct him but he wasted no time putting his hand around your neck and pulling you back into him. “We can debate that later, just shut up and let me kiss you.” And so you did. And he did. And it was fucking perfect.

It didn’t take long till you were both back in Pierre’s suite. He stood watching as the hotel porters unloaded your luggage from the bellhop trolley in slight amazement and dumbfounded-ness. “Mon Amour, are you on vacation or moving in?” And you rolled your eyes. You had over packed - yes, that was true - but you wanted to look good for him and he hadn’t told you anything about what this Dubai trip would entail so you wanted to be prepared for every eventuality. You had enough bikinis to last the full two weeks and also plenty for activities outfits like sand-dunning and (god forbid) if he wanted to jump out of a plane and skydive. Glancing at the cases you figured at least you would always be dressed appropriately. After Pierre shook the palm of the porters hands - tipping them generously - they left the suite which finally left the pair of you alone, you immediately thought of the moustache again.

“So what made you give in?” Asking him playfully while removing your sweatshirt and catching a glimpse of the newly formed upper lip invader. He turned to you but didn’t comprehend what you were referring too till you rubbed your top lip. With an exhale and a joking eye roll he told you; “Well, this really beautiful but kind of annoying girl said I looked like a baby wolverine and I guess I want to be the full grown, wolverine that gets to do this….” The whole time he had been speaking he closed the space between the pair of you and without a shred of hesitation he grabbed you round the waist and shoved you forcefully - but in a super hot way that made a gasp leave your body - against the wall to the side of you. An agreeable “hmm” purred from way down deep inside your body as you adjusted to having your back flat against the cool, cold wall. From Pierre’s expression you knew the noise you had just made pleased him immensely.

“I think you need to take it for a test drive.” He hummed. His eyes flickering down to your lips before falling lower to where your chest was heaving in your sports crop. “What do you mean?” You sort of knew what he was hinting at - it was one of the main reasons you really wanted him to grow it in the first place - but you liked the feral side that came out in Pierre when you acted so innocent with him. Without one single moment of indecision Pierre grinned smugly before slowly getting on his knees before you. You tried to regain control of your breathing because it had become erratic as soon as Pierre’s fingers hooked under the waistband of your leggings and began to pull them down. He paused for a second to pull your trainers off and finished getting you out of the sage green tight Lycra. You whimpered his name when the slightly rough pads of his fingertips ran up and down your thighs but his eyes were on the prize and he was laser focused. Intently you watched him as he reached for your simple thin thong and just as he had done with your leggings he pulled it down your legs tantalisingly slowly. Pierre’s hand then firmly went to the backside of your thigh and your eyes left left him as he repositioned himself and put your leg over his shoulder, his mouth now tormentingly close to where you were desperate to feel him.

Pierre worked quickly. After fleetingly glimpsing up to you he ran his index and forefinger up and down your dampening folds before finally he stopped teasing and parted you. Pierre’s tongue then swiped over your sensitive bundle of nerves in one featherlight and slow, so painfully slow, stripe. You sighed as he continued driving you insane by taking his time with you. The tip of his tongue stroking up and down, up and down. The pressure wasn’t enough and you were sure you hadn’t breathed since Pierre began this torture so your shoved your hand through his hair to urge him to step it up a notch. Which he did. He took your hint and sealed his mouth around your now aching, pulsating clit and sucked strongly. The action made a full shiver rack through you and you it made a sound of sheer pleasure roll from the back of Pierre’s throat, as if he was devouring his favourite meal. You mentally thanked your body for its response because Pierre gripped hold of your butt and made sure you got all the strength of his tongue. Your breath caught in your throat as his name was teetering on the tip of your tongue but he surprised you by pulling away and looking at your pussy, glistening with a mixture of your wet arousal and his saliva. He clearly admired it for a moment before he delved back in and this time his tongue went lower and this time you felt the moustache graze against your sensitive little bundle. “Fuck!” You gasped, unable to hold it back anymore. You wanted him to know how good it was, how good he was, his good his tongue was. Your fingers tangled into his hair and pulled on it so he knew how badly you wanted more. Which he gladly gave you but all you could think of was the new sensation of his moustache. The slight prickly sting against your fleshy bud was a reminder of all the begging you did weeks ago to get Pierre to stop shaving his upper lip. It wasn't a selfish move - be truly looked better with it and it completed his beard - but fuck, as he was close to making you climax you mentally thanked yourself for being so relentless.

However, it was Pierre that was the relentless one now and he really stepped on the gas and accelerated all of the movements he was making. Short, longing licks were replaced by merciless lapping of his tongue and you had been so focused on the feel of the upper lip addition that you missed him adding his fingers into play. You had become a panting, quivering mess by the time your orgasm was hammering down on top of you and you were struggling to hold out. The attempt really was futile because Pierre hummed against you and his fingertips found the fleshy mound inside of you and grazed it repeatedly. And that was it. You were gone in seconds. You came so hard that the leg that was holding you up almost gave way. Your body vibrated as Pierre brought you to the edge and pushed you over it. You orgasmed so hard that you would testify to seeing stars in front of your eyes, they were clamped that tightly shut. And he lapped up all of the juicy mess that you made. He always praised you and claimed you were his favourite taste in the world and it was no different now. The only difference was when Pierre sat back on his knees and your leg fell from his shoulder you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the look of him. His moustache was glistening, coated in the product of your orgasm.

“Is it staying?” He was so arrogant in the way he asked you but in the come down of your high you shakily laughed

“It is absolutely staying.”

837 notes · View notes

healthguru · 1 year

Text

Lower body lift in Dubai | Hasan Surgery

A lower body lift in Dubai is a cosmetic surgery procedure that is designed to remove excess skin and fat from the lower body, including the buttocks, hips, thighs, and lower abdomen. The procedure aims to improve the appearance of sagging skin, cellulite, and other cosmetic issues in these areas.

In Dubai, there are several plastic surgery clinics that offer lower body lift procedures. The cost of the surgery may vary depending on the clinic, the surgeon's experience, and the extent of the surgery.

Before considering a lower body lift in Dubai, it's important to consult with a qualified plastic surgeon in Dubai. During the consultation, the surgeon will assess your suitability for the surgery, discuss your goals and expectations, and explain the risks and benefits of the procedure.

It's also important to note that the recovery period after a lower body lift procedure can be lengthy, and patients will need to follow a strict postoperative care plan to ensure proper healing and minimize the risk of complications.

Dr. Hasan Ali from Hasan Surgery is a leading plastic surgeon in Dubai for all Body lift procedures in Dubai.

Contact: https://hasansurgery.com/

#dr hasan ali dubai #dr hasan ali #hasan surgery dubai #lower body lift in dubai #dubai #dubailife #doctor

0 notes

health7777877 · 2 years

Text

When Should you consider a Breast Reduction Surgery in Dubai? - Prof Dr. Robert Hierner

Breast reduction surgery in Dubai could be considered if you have large breasts and they are causing you physical discomfort or health problems. Read on to know if you are a candidate for the procedure.

#breast reduction surgery in dubai #body lift in dubai #body lift #breast reconstruction

0 notes

cinderellapeter · 7 months

Text

Body Sculpting Dubai: Plastic Surgery Trends in 2024

Body sculpting, a branch of plastic surgery aimed at reshaping and contouring the body, has seen significant evolution over the years, particularly in Dubai, where advancements in technology and techniques have driven notable trends in 2024. As people increasingly prioritize physical appearance and wellness, plastic surgery trends in Dubai continue to reflect this demand for aesthetic enhancement. Let's delve into the latest trends shaping the landscape of body sculpting Dubai in 2024.

Unknown Plastic Surgery Trends in 2024

Non-Invasive Procedures

Non-invasive body sculpting procedures have gained immense popularity in Dubai and worldwide. Techniques like cryolipolysis (CoolSculpting), radiofrequency, and laser lipolysis offer patients a way to achieve desired body contours without surgery or lengthy downtime. These procedures target stubborn fat pockets and tighten skin, making them appealing options for individuals seeking subtle enhancements.

Combination Treatments

In 2024, combination treatments are becoming increasingly common in body sculpting practices in Dubai. By combining various non-invasive techniques or integrating minimally invasive procedures like liposuction with skin tightening treatments, plastic surgeons can address multiple concerns and deliver comprehensive results tailored to individual needs.

Emphasis on Natural Results

While dramatic transformations were once sought after, the trend in 2024 leans towards more natural-looking results. Patients in Dubai are opting for procedures that enhance their features while maintaining a harmonious balance with their overall appearance. Surgeons are employing advanced techniques to achieve subtle yet significant improvements that complement the patient's physique.

Focus on Body Contouring After Weight Loss

With an increasing emphasis on health and fitness, many individuals in Dubai are undergoing weight loss journeys. However, significant weight loss often leads to excess skin and stubborn fat deposits, prompting individuals to seek body contouring procedures. Plastic surgeons are adept at addressing these concerns, offering tailored treatment plans to help patients achieve their desired body contours post-weight loss.

Customization and Personalization

In 2024, the demand for personalized treatment plans is on the rise in Dubai. Plastic surgeons understand that each patient has unique goals and anatomical considerations. Therefore, they emphasize customization by assessing individual needs and crafting bespoke treatment strategies that optimize results and patient satisfaction.

Advancements in Technology

Technological innovations play a pivotal role in shaping plastic surgery trends in Dubai. The introduction of cutting-edge devices and platforms enables surgeons to perform procedures with greater precision, efficacy, and safety. From 3D imaging systems for pre-operative planning to minimally invasive techniques powered by robotics, Dubai remains at the forefront of embracing technological advancements in body contouring Dubai.

Increased Male Interest

While traditionally dominated by female patients, the landscape of body sculpting in Dubai is witnessing a notable increase in male interest. Men are becoming more conscious of their appearance and seeking procedures like abdominal etching, chest sculpting, and jawline contouring to achieve a chiseled physique. Plastic surgeons are catering to this demographic shift by offering specialized treatments tailored to male aesthetics.

Focus on Wellness and Self-Care

Beyond physical enhancements, the trend towards holistic wellness and self-care is influencing plastic surgery preferences in Dubai. Patients are seeking procedures that not only enhance their appearance but also promote overall well-being. Surgeons are incorporating wellness-focused elements into their practice, such as nutritional guidance, post-operative support, and mindfulness techniques, to ensure patients experience holistic transformations.

Rise of Social Media Influence

Social media continues to shape beauty ideals and drive consumer preferences in Dubai. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok serve as influential channels for showcasing before-and-after transformations, patient testimonials, and procedural insights. Plastic surgeons leverage social media to engage with potential patients, educate them about available procedures, and showcase their expertise, thereby influencing plastic surgery trends and patient decision-making.

Ethical and Responsible Practices

In line with global trends, Dubai's plastic surgery community is prioritizing ethical and responsible practices. Surgeons adhere to stringent standards of patient safety, informed consent, and ethical conduct to ensure optimal outcomes and patient satisfaction. Emphasizing transparency and integrity fosters trust between patients and practitioners, contributing to a positive patient experience and long-term relationships.

Final thoughts

Body sculpting in Dubai is characterized by a convergence of innovation, patient-centric care, and societal influences. As the demand for aesthetic enhancement continues to grow, plastic surgeons in Dubai are committed to delivering safe, effective, and personalized solutions that empower individuals to feel confident and comfortable in their own skin.

Looking ahead, the trajectory of plastic surgery trends in Dubai is likely to be shaped by ongoing advancements in technology, shifting societal norms, and an unwavering dedication to patient well-being. Also choose other treatments such as Rhinoplasty Dubai & Face lift Dubai. With a focus on natural results, personalized treatment plans, and ethical practices, Dubai's plastic surgery community is poised to remain at the forefront of the global aesthetic landscape.

As individuals increasingly prioritize self-care and holistic wellness, plastic surgery serves as a transformative tool for enhancing both physical appearance and emotional well-being. By fostering open communication, fostering trust, and embracing a culture of continuous learning and innovation, plastic surgeons in Dubai are poised to redefine beauty standards and empower individuals to embrace their unique identities with confidence and grace.

In essence, body sculpting in Dubai represents not only a journey towards aesthetic enhancement but also a celebration of individuality, self-expression, and self-love. As the field continues to evolve, one thing remains certain: the transformative power of plastic surgery to inspire confidence, restore self-assurance, and unlock the true potential of every individual fortunate enough to embark on this remarkable journey.

#Body Sculpting Dubai #Body Contouring Dubai #Face lift Dubai #Rhinoplasty Dubai

0 notes

anjaelle · 1 year

Text

The Consequence of Pride

Pairing: Tangerine x Black!Reader

Warnings: Guns, Gore, Glass injury, Attempted murder

Word Count: 1.3K (a shorty)

A/N: Something I threw together on my phone in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep. Tried to check for errors and such.

(gif source)

The humor of the situation wasn't lost on him.

Two men lay in a puddle of their own blood just a few feet away, with their brains painting the vibrant blue wallpaper behind them. When you told him that you shot the assailants and then tripped and fell into the glass shards of the broken coffee table, he laughed. He couldn't help it. It just slipped out. He apologized until you let out a tiny affronted gasp which made him guffaw even harder.

"I hate you." "Uh huh."

"I'm going to shave your mustache off in your sleep."

"Bit dramatic, innit?"

You let out a low grunt as he pulled a few smaller shards of glass out of your hand with a tweezer and tossed them aside. "That noise sounds familiar."

"Shut up, Tangerine."

You watched him furrow his brows as he sprayed the antiseptic on your hand and you whined at the sting. He was never surprised at how easily you were able to hold your own. But you also had a surprisingly low pain tolerance and an even lower tolerance for bullshit.

"I know, sweetness, I'm almost done."

As usual, he could see right through you. Despite the fact that you stood in the remains of your once beloved housewarming gift, all he could focus on was the way your lower lip jutted out pitifully and the way you clenched your good fist in anger. He wrapped your leg up in a gauze to cover up the bleeding cuts after pulling glass out of your thigh.

You were dressed in a red satin pajama set that Tangerine bought you from Dubai that you were excited to finally show him after not seeing him for over a month. Luckily, the blood stains weren't obvious, but the shorts didn't protect you from the glass. And your first night with him was definitely ruined.

"I still can't believe you laughed at me." You mumbled as he kissed the palm of your hand through the bandage. You couldn't let that go. You were injured and in distress, and your boyfriend had the audacity to let out a little giggle...a little "tee-hee" over your clumsiness.

"C'mon, it's a little funny. It's kinda funny, baby. Admit it." He raised his brows at you.

"No."

He clicked his teeth and shook his head, "Gotta work on getting a better sense of humor."

You pretended to bristle at him when he kissed your forehead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you liked the attentiveness.

He ignored your antics, gently lifting your head up to inspect your face. He tilted your head to the left and then the right, looking for any surprise injuries. He’d taken the time to clean the dried blood from your face.

“It’s not mine,” you clarified, glancing at the bloodied wall, “It’s asshole number 2’s.”

You couldn’t really tell what was going on in his head. His eyes expressed a mix of anger and concern about the situation at large. They’d come here with the intention to hurt or take you. He knew that much.

The question was why and how they knew where you were. You hadn’t worked a job in ages. They clearly thought you’d be off your game, but they were quickly proven wrong. He glanced over at the bodies in the apartment foyer.

“How long did that take?”

Time seemed to slow down during the struggle. It could’ve been 2 minutes or 2 hours between the time they barged in and the time you were plucking glass shards from your elbow. You told him as much.

“So…what the hell happened?” He questioned casually. He took step back to look you over in full.

“They pretended to be delivery men. I know, don’t give me that face. I ordered dinner for us and they showed up. I took out asshole number one first. Asshole number two tried to fight me. Me! You know I’m not that great at fighting.” You fidgeted with your anxious hands as you spoke, remembering the adrenaline you felt as you and the assailant struggled to take each other out, “He lunged at me, but missed and crashed into the coffee table. I tried to get to the gun, but he got back up and grabbed me by my hair.”

Your gun was kicked under the couch in the scuffle, so you had to improvise. “We were fighting again. Next thing I knew, I had his gun and—bam.” You mimed a headshot with your hand.

As you spoke, Tangerine looked around the apartment as if following the story in his head. He hummed, “Taking out two men on your own in little Jim-Jams. You’re kinda scary sometimes.”

“Don’t try to flatter me after you laughed at me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You know who did it?” Once he was sure that everything was calm and you were okay, he took off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to move the frame of the coffee table out of the way.

You watched him from your plush purple couch, perpetually pleased that you didn’t really have to lift a finger while he was around. Even as you crossed your legs to get comfortable, you ignored the sting of pain in your thigh where the glass dug into your skin, “I dunno. They didn’t have any IDs or easily identifiable tattoos on their arms. I wasn’t really interested in examining them.”

You grimaced at the thought of touching their cold, dead bodies.

“You seem pretty fuckin’ calm about all of this shit.” He said, kneeling down to sweep up the broken glass, “I need to report it, y’know. Someone’s gotta be looking for them.”

“It’s not the first attack. Probably won’t be the last. I’m a hot commodity, babe.”

He shot you a tired look and you grinned proudly at his annoyance with you.

“I called the cleanup crew to come.” You added in a mocking tone, throwing your voice and putting on his accent, “So, yes, I was responsible, bruv.”

“I don’t sound like that, you dick.”

“Mhm, you do.”

He swept up the last of the glass and raised his brows at you, then threw his voice to match yours, “Shut up Tangerine, stop laughing at me. I’m overly sensitive and hot with a princess complex.”

You matched his expression and he grinned at you.

“Whose fault is that? Hmm.” You asked, motioning at him. He let out a loud laugh, tossing his head back and leaving to dump the glass.

“Fair enough.”

You sat curled up next to him on the couch while the cleanup crew moved the bodies and tried their best to get the blood out of your wood and wallpaper. You already knew it was a lost cause. Despite the actual gore being washed off, there was still a tinge of pink visible on it. He’d finally showered and changed into joggers and a t-shirt, tying his hair up. His hand rested lazily on your upper thigh, gently rubbing circles into your skin. You’d showered too, forgoing the cutesy pajamas he bought you and choosing just a plain concert tee and shorts. The plushie he bought you from Seoul sat tucked between your knees, and you felt fully comfortable for the first time in hours.

“Sweetness…” he mumbled tiredly.

You stopped scrolling through your phone, “Hmm?”

“Be honest,” he gave your thigh a light squeeze and a small smack, “did you break the coffee table?”

“No…yes.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you heard the rumble of another giggle in his chest.

“How’d you do that?”

You let out a long sigh, knowing you were gonna regret this for the rest of your life. “I was doing a victory dance. And I tripped over the couch leg and fell. In my defense, it was already cracked from when the other guy fell into it.”

The giggle turned into a full blown laugh and you couldn’t even be mad about it. It was a stupid way to get injured. An embarrassing way to get injured, even. He leaned down and pressed a few kisses to your forehead.

“Thank God. I fuckin’ hated that table.”

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x black!reader #aaron taylor johnson x black!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #jaelle writes #aaron taylor johnson

292 notes · View notes