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#that title card is so sexy
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Vincenzo : Episode 1
Oh my god STOP this title card is saurrrrr good
It is giving me the nostalgia of old crime thrillers which used to have these quiet , animated and wonderful title cards.
his hair are styled to the T my god, not a strand displaced. my dumbass wants to ruffle it a little.
and just like that an entire building is down 🫨
all of the shots up until now have been so pleasing to me. the cinematography is so unserious hot!? mind you, I'm four minutes in. 💀
the random ass vertical shot just as i said this
i thought he was the mafia boss? he's a lawyer
the shots are so beautiful HELP
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Ohhhh, his boss is dead.
lmao the man just casually eating pasta. that's an Italian baby 🇮🇹
this man is so busy chowing down on that pasta that he cannot see the threat sitting in front of his table
did Netflix change its subtitles again (since i saw this happen with alchemy of souls i have never recovered my trust in them) like i can read! let them be
throw the pasta in this racist's face vince!!!
[foreboding music]
'regret is the most painful thing one can experience in life' bars! saying this before you kill someone and you're giving them a chance is funny but still bars
all of that blatant racism and heat for Vincenzo but can't handle 3 sentences said in Korean
i knew they were going to burn everything as soon as I saw the damn plane 😭
the driver liked that 😂
the score mixed with the silence is actually so good
not a second has been wasted as of it. it's been so pleasing on the eyes
yes!!! snap and kill that cigarette #real #lungsareourfriends
got out of that bathroom so elegantly to kill everybody 😭😭😭
Adrenaline playing let me just
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no way they cut to a scene this cute WHO IS SHE I LOVE HER
lmaooo where is this discussion going, is she trying to strongarm him? gotta be the most adorable way I've ever seen
LMFAOOOO she is deadass singing Für Elise while making him take out the cake topper 😂
a string of money coming out she is so unserious 💀✋
wait I know this man
it's candy in my ear !!! cutie !!!
I LOVE HER
Do Bong Soon's dad and Itaewon class villain! Him being here... will this be a hit or a miss 😟
he's mad because she's working for the enemy, it's giving Itaewon Class
I still find it fun as of yet though
lmao is this emotional blackmail. ah we both clocked it 😂
cutieeee
i just watched xo kitty before this so this man getting a free taxi is so funny when my girl was running for her life in Korea when she got out of the airport
lmaooo not this limo man being a kidnapper
he's got really pretty eyelashes
[sinister laugh continues] 💀
honestly kidnappers accidentally kidnapping someone from the mafia is a storyline i can always get behind. you deserve each other!
the old man from alchemy of souls!
[ominous music playing]
superiors being lax after getting an important tip from a junior once again before impending doom
the way i already know what's going to happen to taecyeon like let me not get attached
His hair are so poofy and cute let me run a hand through them 😭
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my man who burned like 7000 acres and contributed to 100% of climate change just got kicked in the face and knocked out cold by two casual robbers 😭
a true homecoming
i did not expect this show to be funny
speaking in lower tones with pauses so we know for sure that they're the bad guys doing a business deal
flower of evil detective?!! they really picked one person from each of the 5 kdramas I've watched 💀
he's having the worst day one can have in a new country 😂
the dramatic ass Italian music playing
the piano player 😂 oh wow the tenants of this building are something
lmaooo Vince having the weirdest day in Korea after having an intense I’m the shit, fear me moment in Italy is sending meeee
what is going on in this building
awoop monk jump scare
how does he look THAT good in a blue shirt
lmaooo the chef
everytime water goes out in foreign serials the south asian in me wants to beg people to just keep one bucket in their bathrooms just in case!
do not burn yourself king
the shower doing its own concert with breakdance slay
freezing water is always better than getting burnt by hot water 😭
he gets my pigeon hate omg they’re always outside your window !!!! doing the most 😡
leave sir 🐦 omg don’t use your phone !!
is that his mom? free us from the dumbass narrative of mom leaving child for adoption as heartless. y’all hate women and don’t get it at all
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she is correct! this is literally not relevant and y’all are just trying to rile hate for her here. he’s teary eyed. oh no she worked for an abuser ?!!! let her TALK
MOTHER I WILL AVENGE YOU
wait isn’t that lawyer our girl?
eugh annoying perverts. stop taking pictures of strangers challenge failed
get them aunty!
okay opera chef !!! lmaooo the dramatic music playing in this show gets me 💀
nawww he made the chef cry 😭
I'm bonding hard to every 3rd character on the screen like why is the conversation between lawyer dad and mom wrongly in jail making me soft
I know it's actors being actors but I'm so happy to see laywer dad ( Yoo Jae Myung) be soft again. I was ready to fight through the screen with him in Itaewon class.
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I love the Mr. Cho actor so much. He truly has the funniest expressions. 😂
NOOOO Mr. Cho. Oh this is nasty
lmao is her dad emancipating from her
#saveMrCho omg
NO NO NO NO NO you cannot do this to me
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I am suddenly terrified like I'm already low key devestated
beat his ass sister !!!
lmao the Italian ass entry 😭
help how has he not fallen to his death that's a measuring tape 😭
i need to take a self defense class at some point lol
slayyy
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akkivee · 2 years
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MY REVIVAL PULLS THO????????
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teaboot · 1 year
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One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.
You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.
We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.
After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.
How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.
The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.
You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.
I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.
I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.
You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.
I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.
It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless
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bbokicidal · 1 month
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"Where Did I..." | Corruptive!SKZ [H.H.]
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If you've read any of my other works (on my previous account) you would know that I have a knack for (and often write) corruption kink!skz lol. So this delved into that a little, because the theme of 'dumb bimbo gf' tends to go along w/ that. if you want it rewritten more specifically, lmk. ALSO - i labeled the title as a 'bimbo gf' because just saying 'dumb gf' feels a little rude i dunno lol.
warnings : NSFW CONTENT (MDNI), corruption kink! hyunjin during the NSFW headcanons, MEANDOM!Hyun, and I'm talking fucking mean. Like calling you dumb to your face mean.
Hyunjin w/ A Bimbo!GF
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BF!Hyunjin who cherishes you so so much and absolutely will help you with anything you need or ask him for. He'll do your laundry if you aren't sure which button to push, will cut up veggies for soup if you don't know how to, will hand you your phone even when it's right in your back pocket.
BF!Hyunjin who thinks that it's sooooo fucking cute every time you forget something. He'll tip his head and let his hair fall in his face as he watches you fumble with your phone, forgetting how to turn on Do Not Disturb.
BF!Hyunjin who adores the way you get pouty when you forget where you put your favorite dress. He'll watch you get mumbly and all cute about it before offering to just buy you a new one - find one online and he'll go to the store to get it just for you.
BF!Hyunjin who thinks it's SO fucking cute when you walk in a room and pause, eyes glossy and lips popped apart because you can't remember why you walked in there in the first place. He'll stare with a giggly smile as you walk out, then back in, and eventually sit down with a pout as you try to remember.
BF!Hyunjin who ties your shoes for you after watching you knot your laces two different times. He'll just straight up tie them - he won't teach you how to because he thinks it's just so cute watching you forget and fumble. He wants to tie your shoes for you forever.
BF!Hyunjin who has to do the grocery shopping because you can never remember where a single thing is in the store, even if the aisles are labeled. You just go along as his pretty little arm candy.
BF!Hyunjin who doesn't let you carry cash because you count twenties like they're tens and he's not going to let you embarrass yourself in some fancy store - Just take his Black card.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who thinks your 'stupidity' adds to your sexiness in bed. He is obsessed with the way you so willingly submit yourself to him because you don't know any different and you're just too dumb to figure out how to top him.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who presses his thumb into your lower lip to pry your mouth open, murmuring about how cute you are on your knees and how you should just stay his pretty dumb bitch forever.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who hums out shit like, "Open your mouth for me. Just like that. Now sit pretty and let me fuck your throat since you can't suck me off right." And, "You're just my dumb little whore, huh? Don't know any different; Useless unless you're acting as my personal cocksleeve."
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you he's so happy you're his girlfriend - and how he knows you'd never cheat on him because you're too dumb to go out and find anyone else.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who pumps you full of his cum and then blatantly lies to you, telling you there's no chance you'll get pregnant because of some dumb reason he makes up in his head. He takes EVERY precaution afterwards to clean you up however and make sure you actually won't get pregnant, but he's going to let you believe that his cum can't get you pregnant so he can keep filling you up.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who tells you it's totally normal for guys to share their girls with his friends just so he can have threesomes with you and the others - He knows for a fact Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin love how dumb you are, too. And you just look so pretty all confused and whimpery with their cocks stuffing all your holes.
Corruptive!BF!Hyunjin who makes the effort afterwards during aftercare to assure you that he absolutely does love you, and that he doesn't really mean all of those harsh words he said to you during sex. He adores you the way you are and outside of the bedroom he really wants you to know that his love runs so deeply for you. He'll curl up from behind and wrap an arm over your waist after cleaning up, press kisses to your shoulder and hold you as tight as possible as he whispers about how one day he'll marry you and keep you safe from the word. And those mean cashiers who can count right.
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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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— stone flower
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SUMMARY : aka. part two of i believe in a thing called love. quickly attempting to find out what’s wrong with his girlfriend, dean makes a dreadful (objectively funny) discovery about what’s actually going on
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam, castiel 
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), dirty thoughts/reminiscences, fluff, crack?, cas being an angel LOL
WORD COUNT : 1.9k
A/N : title from a muse song. this fills the someone is cursed square on my @jacklesversebingo card. if nothing makes sense, it’s bc I wrote this at 3AM :’)
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It felt strange to you now, knowing that Dean was your boyfriend and that he had been for years. 
You felt naked beneath his gaze. 
Not entirely in a sexy way. 
He had the advantage of knowing everything about you. Naturally, that made you feel vulnerable. Part of you dreads to think of the things he knew about you, but part of you found it arousing. The way he just… seemed so hooked on you was making your heart soar like Icarus did towards the sun.
As soon as Dean realised you weren’t joking about not knowing him, he rushed you into changing more modestly, hardly giving you any time to recover from the two orgasms he pulled from you. Once you were both decently dressed, you legged it out of his bedroom, his hand in yours guiding you through a dark hallway with dozens of rooms that you were curious to explore. 
The two of you were still flushed, still physically glowing with that post-orgasmic euphoria by the time you reached Castiel in the kitchen attempting to eat a sandwich after you woke Sam from his slumber. You’d forgotten all about it until Castiel gave you and Dean an inquisitorial look.
It was embarrassing. You’d attempted to tame your hair, but you knew you were screwed, and quite literally looked like you’d been properly, thoroughly screwed by the same man you claimed not to remember.
But worst of all, your body could still feel him. 
You were still wet from your two orgasams—with his and with your own release. You could feel it dampening your underwear as Sam and Castiel spoke to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in the library chair, the table was scattered with old books, the pages were filled with strange images of monsters and beautiful herbs.
As lovely as they looked written on the now-yellow pages, you couldn’t focus much on what Sam and Castiel were saying, not when Dean’s eyes were fixed on you. Not when your clit continued to pulse and ache alongside your sensitive pussy.
Part of you figured he was only concerned, but the way he swiped at his pillowy pink lips with his tongue whenever his eyes dropped to your lips—which made your heart flutter—told you he was also still aroused.
It was driving you nuts. 
He was so hot. 
Your heart hammered quickly in your chest and you tried to ignore the way his gaze heated your skin like the sun you couldn’t see in the “Bunker” you were trapped in. Your nipples tightened in his shirt and your pussy fluttered around nothing but the memory of once having him inside you. 
You bit your lip and tore your gaze from his to look at his brother.
You would have been more embarrassed about the state of you if Sam’s hair had been neatly hanging down his jaw, but it was dishevelled and parted in a way that didn’t seem to be his typical style. He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and some blue and green plaid pyjama pants. He wasn’t even obvious about whether or not he noticed the way you looked so fucked out. 
You feared that you simply couldn’t hide it. 
But you mostly felt so alive, so electrified by Dean’s presence and how much he seemed to adore you. You felt beautiful. 
Dean’s hand blindly found yours and for once—at least since the morning when you woke up—you could tell the way your stomach fluttered was not from lust. His thumb brushed tenderly over your knuckles, he squeezed your hand gently, he did all of that subconsciously as he spoke to his brother. Your heart only slowed down because you felt safe, assured. In any other situation, you’d be stunned by his affection and your heart would leap out of your chest—but it’s as if your body still remembered him.
You only then realised how many other lovely things you must feel just being around him. Part of you missed not knowing what it was like, what he was like. You only felt, deep inside, that it must be much more intense and tender if you only remembered.  You wanted to remember it all so bad.
You tore your eyes away from Dean’s beautiful hand around yours to look at Castiel when he spoke.
“I can try to fix it,” he offered, then gazed into your eyes. His blue eyes nearly drowned you as they studied you. You thought to yourself something you don’t even remember learning from anyone: only psychopaths don’t blink. His gaze was intense, so you looked away. 
“Yeah, let’s, and then we’ll move on to the next theory if it doesn’t work, we gotta fix this, now,” Dean agreed and, once again, he squeezed your hand gently. He finally looked at you again, and while all the hunger had faded into concern, there was a lot of love in his eyes that heated your cheeks.
“We’ll fix this, Dean,” his brother reassured him. 
Dean hesitantly looked away from you to contemplate his brother. You admired him for a few moments, the curve of his plush lips turned into a frown, the line of stubbled jaw, the flutter of his beautiful lashes. Castiel’s coat rustled beside you and you felt his cold fingers on your forehead before you could turn to face him. 
Your eyes fell shut on instinct and you felt warm for a few moments before Castiel’s fingers stopped pressing against your forehead. You peeked an eye open to question Dean quietly. He looked at you expectantly, as if he were holding in a long breath, waiting for you to show a sign of something, but you were only confused. 
“Okay…?” Dean leaned forward to take both your hands from your lap. Was that supposed to do something? You regretted watching the hope fall from Dean’s pretty face, but you’d rather be properly fixed than pretend you could remember him.
“I still don’t know who you guys are,” you shrugged and looked at Castiel for answers. He squinted his eyes at you and then looked over at Dean. His mind worked quietly and quickly as he analysed you and Dean,
“The source for her loss of memory is not in her,” he revealed, then pursed his lips as he walked behind you to get to Dean. You tried to follow him as you thought of what he meant, your frown deepened, his large hand fell on Dean’s shoulder. Dean looked down at his hand, puzzled.
“What?” You and Dean asked simultaneously.
“You are the source, Dean.” You stared at Dean with wide eyes and he mirrored the expression on your face. “It feels… like a mind parasite, similar to a mind STD-”
“STD?!” You both turned to the man, bewildered.
“Not really,” he soothed your concern with the most casual expression on his face. “I said it's more of a parasite, it burrowed to your mind—and it’s attached to her now too, feeding on her memories of you to keep it alive.”
“Okay, well how the hell do we get it out of my head?” Dean exclaimed, shrugging off Castiel’s hand to get up and pace. His hands rested on his hips and he chewed on his lip. You didn’t know how to comfort him, and it frustrated you.
“That’s going to be the hard part. Parasites make you crave whatever it is it’s hungry for-”
“So, what? No sex!?” Dean instantly asked and rested his hands on the table, right beside you. 
“That’s what it is?” Castiel asked, brows furrowed in perplexity. 
“Why does it matter?” You interrupted, your entire body heated up uncomfortably with shame. Both of them looked at you. Castiel took the bait and began to think.
“Don’t tell me I need to go cold turkey on sex,” Dean mumbled mostly to himself, but you still heard him. You rolled your eyes at him half-heartedly and felt yourself smile. He relaxed visibly at the sight and returned a small smile that made you feel more confident about finding a solution.
“Can you really not stop… I don’t wanna say it…” Sam groaned with a grimace. You really could have blown hot air out of your ears from humiliation at the implication of his words about his own brother—about you. 
God, how horny were the two of you regularly? Is that why they don’t question the fucked-out state you were both in? Because they were used to it? Unbelievable. 
Sam didn’t need to verbalise what he was saying. You glanced up at Dean. He frowned and pondered for a long time, then he looked agonised at whatever he was thinking. “Come on, we gotta find something else.”
“You’re gross, Dean,” 
“I’m sure we can go a few days without… sex,” you tried to reason with him. You really just wanted your life back, all of it, if it meant remembering Dean. He gave you a look, it challenged your words. You could already feel your body react to him, the feeling of his gaze was like foreplay. You were both doomed. 
“Dean-”
“How the hell did I even get this-what, parasite?” Dean broke the spell before Sam could make a comment about it. You exhaled shakily and sank back in the chair to think deeply, trying to force your mind to seize the memories and fight the parasite. 
“Remember that witch you were being a dick to in Lafayette last week?”Sam asked after a few moments of shared silence between the four of you.
“Wha- that bitch! I knew there was something off about her!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sam got up from his chair after closing the book he was reading, smug and amused. “She’s long gone and the only thing we know can work is if we keep you far away from each other.”
“But…” Dean pouted and gazed longing at you. You looked up at him and his wide green eyes. God, you wanted to give him everything. 
“It might be the parasite making you afraid of being away from her,” Castiel offered, but Sam scoffed. Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, and you frowned. Could that be true?
“Come on, he’s like that on a regular basis,” Sam argued. Today was just not your day. You sank deeper into your seat, hoping the heat wasn’t visible on your face. And if it was visible, you hoped the chair would come alive and devour you whole. Part of you was flattered. “Remember when you and her got stuck for two days in that angel trap? Dean didn’t even wait for us to get out of the car-”
“Okay, I get it!” Dean saved you from the embarrassment of events you didn’t even remember and threw his hands up. He was blushing, too, and it was so adorable. “Look, fine. I’ll do whatever I have to do for a short amount of time if it means spending the rest of my life with her—with her memory intact.”
They turned to look at you. You sat up normally in your chair and focused back on Dean. He was already making you fall in love— and hard. Somehow. You wanted that life with him and all the memories of how embarrassing the two of you are together. 
“You know, I don’t know anything about anything, so… if this is the solution, I’m in.”
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andy-wm · 3 months
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I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB
It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.
And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.
We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?
Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.
So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?
Maybe.
But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.
It's sweet, so sweet, but....
Maybe it's a little too sweet?
We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.
But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.
Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.
"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.
So what's really going on here?
What are you doing Jiminie?
And more importantly, why are you doing it?
You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.
But my view is:
This a pantomime. And it's very clever.
According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment,  originating in Roman mime, in which  performers express meaning through  gestures  accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.
Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.
Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.
The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.
There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.
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But back to the Pantomime itself...
A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.
Gender role reversal - TICK
Slapstick comedy - TICK
Colourful costumes - TICK
Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)
Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK
Take another look at the music video - it's all there.
Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:
The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.
Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.
Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"
Welcome, Loco.
(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)
So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.
If it's a pantomime, what is it about?
I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...
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but real love takes a little longer.
Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).
In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...
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But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.
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Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...
At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.
We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band
It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.
After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.
The children run over to him and the tale begins.
Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.
He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".
But he mentions June 12th.
Why June 12th?
Why not 13th, their debut day?
BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.
He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.
Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".
Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.
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Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.
Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.
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He sings:
"All the things we couldn't say before
And your hidden feelings too (just for you)
Don't you worry anymore
Since we're together now**
Let's be a little more honest."
So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.
<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>
Hang on, what's happening in the MV??
On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.
He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.
Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.
Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??
ALL MEN??
ALL MEN?!!!!!
Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.
So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.
He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.
He sings:
"Ooooh I love you babe,
I'll come closer to you
I want to hold your hand,
I want you babe (yessir)
Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.
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The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...
[Enter stage left: Loco]
Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.
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They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:
The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....
It's *The Golden Hour*
I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.
Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...
fucking sunflowers bloom.
SUN FLOWERS.
BLOOM.
FOR HIM.
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<I need to lie down and process this>
SUNflowers...
Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.
Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.
SMH... let's move on.
Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:
"So tell me how you feel,
let whatever you feel
wash over you"
Then he sings
"I love you babe, (yessir)
I'll come closer to you
I want to hold your hand,
I want you babe (yessir)
Please note the hand gesture again
👉 👈
The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>
"I think we're ready now
<NGL I may have shed a tear here>
Lets begin 1, 2
<Ok fuck, I bawled at this point. Goddammit Jimin!>
Put your hands up"
*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.
Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.
The show is over.
*THE END*
But wait, I am not done.
A few more things bear mentioning here:
I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.
It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.
I wanna hold your hand
This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...
I am you, You are me
The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.
All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.
I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.
The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.
I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.
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"Even though we're together now"
These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?
It's strategically brilliant.
This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.
AND FINALLY....
The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.
The song is bookended by references to BTS.
That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.
This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.
💛+💙=💚
So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.
And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.
But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY
🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈
Thank you Jiminie
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fandomnerd9602 · 21 days
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Affirmation (🌶️)
Bambi!Wanda x Reader
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Gif belongs to @percyderolo
It had been three months since the birth of yours and Wanda's little baby girl Natalie.
Life had settled into a nice little pattern of doing things. True you and your doe mate had lost sleep over the last few weeks due to Natalie crying at 3 in the morning but it was worth it.
The sanctuary officially was titled the Westview Hybrid Sanctuary. It was at Tony’s insistence that the place be officially named.
And with the birth of Natalie, your mate was placed on maternity leave from her office job at the Sanctuary. And so the job was filled for the last three months or so by a cat hybrid named Agatha Harkness. She was friendly and helpful around the office.
But Natasha had her suspicions. No one would cozy up that quickly to someone, especially you, without some motive. The air around Agatha was full of pheromones, not that you could tell.
Wanda could tell though. It started out as one lunch break visit to your office. Wanda brought little Natalie to see her poppa.
Agatha walked into the office with a bag of subway sandwiches. “Hey team” the cat hybrid smiled. “One pizza sub for Nat and one turkey and cheese for (Y/N)”
“Thanks” Natasha chimed, the hair on your wolf hybrid buddy’s neck was slightly raised.
“Hi there” Wanda spoke up, “I’m—“
“Wanda!” Agatha interrupted, “it is such an honor to meet you. You have been such an inspiration to me and a lot of the other hybrids!”
Wanda caught whiff of the pheromones practically oozing off of Agatha. She looked to you, a little suspicious. No one was gonna steal her detka from her.
“Well I gotta get back to my cubicle” Agatha said with a little smile before turning and leaving.
“Bringing you lunch,” Wanda’s tone dropped a little bit
���I gave her the subway card to go get us lunch” you shrugged, completely unaware.
Wanda simply smiles, hiding her feelings. Agatha was a little skinnier than her. Toned, fit, everything Wanda used to be before she had Natalie.
Natasha picked up on Wanda’s tone and guided her pal out of the office. “Don’t worry, Wanda,” the wolf intoned, “if Agatha tried anything I’ll rip her throat out”
“What if my detka doesn’t love me anymore?” Wanda’s mind wandered.
“Then make (Y/N) see that you haven’t changed.” Natasha’s tone became a little more commanding. “Put your detka in their place. You are strong, commanding, be sexy”
Sexy? An idea formed in Wanda’s brain. You would know who you really belonged to. Your doe was going to make sure you’d never forget.
Your work day came to an end. You walked past the courtyard to see Agatha chatting with another cat hybrid, she did have a thing for that particular one. You couldn’t help but smile. You wished her all the luck that she would find the same kind of happiness as you and Wanda.
You picked the boys up from school and made your way home. Made dinner for your little family. Watched TV. The nice little routine that you loved so much. You noticed the wheels in your mate’s head were turning. You tried to let her calculate whatever it was.
At the end of your evening, you tucked the boys in and turned off the lights. You saw your mate exit the nursery, dressed in only a bathrobe.
“Natalie’s down for the evening, detka” her eyes were darkened with desire. Her tone was dripping with lust. And with that she sauntered off to your bedroom.
You were practically a slave as you walked into your shared bedroom.
You were barely a step through your bedroom archway when she grabbed you and playfully shoved you to your bed.
“Wanda?” You chuckled. It was then you saw her serious tone.
“Who do you belong to, detka?” Her tone strong and commanding.
“You” you answered without a second’s hesitation.
“Are you sure?” She cocked an eyebrow at you, “I saw the way Agatha was around and I didn’t like it”
“Agatha is…”
Wanda silences you with a seductive shh. Her hands drifted to the tie of her robe. One yank and the knot came undone.
She took the edges of her robe and slowly pulled it off exposing her scarlet red set of lingerie. You hadn’t seen that in all its beauty for a couple months at least.
“I’m going to remind you who you belong to” she saunters over to you. She gets right between your legs and takes your face in her nimble fingers, “I’m in charge tonight”
“Yes my doe” is all you can say. She tugs at your shirt, you quickly pull it off. She tugs at your belt, kissing you fiercely.
She growls in your ear, “get these off”
You obey her. She pushes you gently onto the bed and straddles you, already grinding her hips into yours. A moan echoed through your lips, she put a hand over your mouth.
“We have to be quiet. The kids.” She gently chides, not even ceasing in her ravenous movements. A giggle escapes her lips.
You practically tore what she was wearing off, leaving her in all her untouched glory.
This was some new animalistic side of your mate. She galloped you, her eyes rolling backwards as you fell into a familiar rhythm and flow.
You missed this time with her. Being parents was amazing and all but you missed times like these: when you and your doe could be mates.
Little moans began escaping her lips, “d-detka”
She began turn over. You and her switched positions. You locked eyes with her, her more softer side reappearing. You gently took ahold of one of her antlers. Wanda giggled, she loved when you held one of her antlers.
You continued hitting every little spot that you knew would make her moan and cry in the best possible way.
She wrapped her legs around your waist, “don’t stop!”
The two of you went at it like you were wild mates again. Her cries mixed with yours. Her laughs entangled with yours as the two of you became one in the most spectacular, beautiful and profound of ways.
“I-I’m close!” She whines in your ears. You could feel the warmth and emotional energy building within you. “Yes! Yes!! Oh!! Oh!!!”
You kissed her softly, letting her moans be softened by your lips. You both hit it at the same time, your moans mixed in with hers as you tried to be sure the children wouldn’t have their sleep interrupted.
You pulled back and looked at her in amazement. You were sweaty and yet so satisfied. You could only look at each other in absolute amazement.
“Detka” she whispered.
You kissed her tenderly, “there will never be anyone else”
She looked at you in confusion for a split second, “and what of Agatha? She had pheromones all over her when you were-“
“She’s interested in another cat hybrid” you take her face gently in your hands. “Why would I look elsewhere? You. Are. Perfection. You are my love, my life, my doe, my everything. I love you Wanda so much.”
“I love you, so much” she cried as she pulled you into another series of gentle kisses.
Wanda giggles, “I suppose I didn’t have to be this forceful sexy goddess then”
“I like it” you chime.
“Really?” She giggles. “I might wanna keep it around.”
You and your doe share a laugh as you cuddle in one another’s arms. Nothing would ever make your eye wander from her. She was yours and you were all hers.
Tags @lifespectator @dudesweet17 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @russianredassassin @revanshand @multi-fandom-enjoyer @olsenmyolsen @aloneodi @abimess @ab1nsur @softlymaximoff
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aestheticaltcow · 7 months
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Last Updated: 09/13/2024
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606 notes · View notes
sefinaa · 3 months
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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞.❞
What is your future spouse’s aesthetic?
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🧡 ݁₊ ⊹ . 🎃 ౨ৎ Masterlist Subliminal Channel Tips ‧₊˚ 🎃⋅♡🍊౨ৎ 18+ Readings Paid Readings Tarot Services
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Pac Summary!
🍊Your future spouse's aesthetic.
🍊How they feel about it in the future or in the present moment.
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Moodboard | Divider
Pile I
Your future spouse's aesthetic. 
As I was shuffling, nothing came out. So I went with the assumption; perhaps they are lost with who they are. They are trying different aesthetics and seeing what makes them happy. I believe having a title like an aesthetic can bring us down if we don’t know what makes us happy, and that is the same with your fs. They are struggling to see what fits their standards of aesthetics.
Reversed nine of wands.
The reversed nine of wands confirms my thoughts. Right now, they are struggling with everything. They remind me of the tower tarot card. This is seen as something negative, but I see it as a breakthrough in life. Because if there isn't a negative situation, then you can never become uncomfortable or grow from the experience. You need those negative emotions for growth even if it’s sabotaging yourself. You become self aware throughout and teach yourself to not be your own enemy. I’m still feeling hopeless energy with your fs. So right now, the aesthetic is baggy clothes. They are struggling to become comfortable with their skin and what they like. They have tried fancy and luxurious suits. They have tried the swag or baddie aesthetic. They have tried sexy dresses, etc. They keep going for materialistic outfits, and intuition says you will meet them in a month or two and help guide them out of that hell hole. So when you do meet, I see them going for a flowy or relaxing aesthetic. It reminds me of a bit of boho and a soft aesthetic. And those who are into men, I see them actually painting their nails. Now, I've seen people associate nail polish on men with the LGBTQ+ community, alternative/emo/punk, etc., but no. Nail polish is about expressing yourself like makeup; the same goes here. 
How does their aesthetic make them feel in the future?
I kept shuffling the cards, but wasn’t able to get anything. Then I realized they wouldn’t feel much about it. I don't see them caring about how other people perceive them because of you. You were able to guide and heal them in a positive manner that made them realize they don't have to try so hard to impress others and that impressing themselves is more important. And you also taught them that materialistic aspects won't last in the long run; appreciating the small things you have in life is important. Beautiful life lessons; thank you for sharing those with them and elevating them into someone they love. So there isn’t a feeling here, but more of a thank you note from them to you.
‘’Thank you for showing me something that I thought was lost. Thank you for being there for me when I struggled and put money, charm, and looks on a pedestal. It was because of you that I realized that those weren’t important. What matters is the inside of us, our soul, and how we actually do things for other people. Without you, I wouldn't be able to understand who I was—I wouldn't be self-aware of the flaws I had, nor would I understand the struggles I put you in when I was so self-absorbed in the fashion world. Forgetting how toxic the industry has been. So thank you for being by my side and allowing my wings to flutter open as I escaped hell and finally met you in heaven. In our heaven.’’
Masterlist.
Pile II
Your future spouse's aesthetic. 
I was seeing a dark, winter night. The wind is flowing around the dead but beautiful trees. Beautiful white snow is raining down from the clouds, and there is a haunted house. Well, that is how the rumors spread, but in that house was a single father with his sweet daughter, trying hard to survive in the winter. Though it was hard to survive time to time with rumors being spread, people coming to throw hate, and such, the only thing that helped them cope was the love they had together. Before, I check what the card is. Intuitively though, they give me the aesthetic of gloomy winter. That softness that comes from the winter days, the excitement that comes out when it’s winter break, and when you want to go to the fireplace and have a nice cup of hot chocolate while being sneaky and adding marshmallows for yourself. The darker days of the winter as the moon glistens over a river. Or when the days become cold you must isolated from your friends. This is what your future spouse’s aesthetic. It’s complex but that’s the beauty of it. They allow people to spread false judgments while they express what they love, their aesthetic. They portray softness while appearing rough, a contradiction that works beautifully like dead trees allowing the snow to pile on top of it. Eventually the tree grows back and blossoms once more. That’s the irony of your fs.
Reversed four of wands.
A smile appeared on my face because the energy matched. Even though it is reversed, it’s a siren (bird form) on an apple tree, as weapons, i believe arrows, are pointing at her and targeting her. Do you see the resemblance? The weapons are the rumors. The siren are the people in the house, or in this case, your fs’s house. And the apples are the love shared with the family. The tree is what your fs holding their family together. Their family has accepted what your fs change in their traditions/culture which has made them happy. Thus causing them being comfortable with themselves and wearing the aesthetic they like despite it being frowned upon. I am getting a conservative family with them, but the family was able to heal because your fs took the stand and changed their views. I heard the family had no idea of the pressure given to their children before everything went down.
How does their aesthetic make them feel in the future?
The first word that popped up in my head was refreshing. The biggest weight came off their shoulders; it will be so rewarding. Everything they wanted has already come their way, and to top it off, you will be their last reward. Their wishes are coming and you are the last wish. They are manifesting for someone like you; you are their dream person, and the thought of being with someone like you makes them go nuts. Think of the craziest TV show character you know and amplify it by 3-5 times. That’s the excitement I feel with them, but with a healthy mindset. It’s just something they have been dreaming about for so long, since their childhood or teenage years. 
Reversed seven of wands.
Yeah, so with the reversed seven of wands, this is about a turning point that will lead to a positive situation occurring in someone’s life. And you are their positive aspect. If they didn’t stand up for what they believed in and speak with such vulnerability and power, then you guys wouldn’t be meeting in three to four months. Everything would’ve been delayed. And as I channeled this, I kept hearing soulmates. I know all (other than the 3-4% who believes it) of you don’t believe it, but that’s what I am hearing. So if it’s not soulmates for you, then it’s a relationship that is meant to be.
Masterlist.
Pile III
Your future spouse's aesthetic. 
Two of wands.
Your future spouse’s aesthetic is daring. They like to try new things, always getting out of their comfort zone. Sometimes, they enjoy pissing other people off because they live in a traditional area. Wearing something that is provocative or very showy bothers the people around them, but for them, it’s similar to adrenaline. I see someone riding on a skateboard wearing ripped jeans, showing their bruised knee. A grin is on their face as they are wearing a crop top, accentuating their curves and body. People look at them with disgust, but all they can see is their reactions. People record them to make fun of them and yet, they do not care. This is your future spouse’s energy. They genuinely don't care what other people think of them unless it comes to you.
Their fashion is fun and bold. It makes you think about them as they stay on your mind. In terms of aesthetic names, I get punk and emo vibes and lots of tattoos or piercings. Someone has vampire teeth, or they add them in. For some, your fs loves wearing spiky boots or making their ponytail in a spiky motion. Others, think of alternatives mixed with cyberpunk. Very wild and bright colors too. They know what they want when it comes to life and their fashion taste, and they are very straightforward about what they dislike too. So when there is a communication issue, they will be upfront about it and you both can resolve it quickly. 
How does their aesthetic make them feel?
Ten of pentacles and queen of wands.
Honestly, they feel blessed that they are wearing what they love. When you live in a traditional area, it’s hard to wear the outfits or do the things you enjoy, but they were able to push past their fears and become confident. Their outlook on life changed drastically, and they became comfortable with their real selves. They also feel thankful for how you will accept their fashion. They felt hesitant around you because they assumed you wouldn’t like their fashion style.
Masterlist.
Pile IV
Your future spouse's aesthetic. 
When I was shuffling your cards, a card flipped by itself, and then it became lost. At first, your future spouse kept changing their aesthetics constantly. They didn't know what looked best with their facial structures. They have a mother who is into cosmetics, so they know how to work well with fashion, but the idea of being perfect has affected their mindset. ‘’Perfectionism is my downfall; I know that, but I am working on it.’’
Reversed strength and reversed the high priestess.
Their mother has always been strict with them. Always putting their imperfections on their child because they couldn't handle their insecurities. So your fs has absorbed what they said onto them, thus causing them to become a perfectionist. The high priestess reversed is focused on trust issues and a lack of personal harmony. Their mother pressure has caused a strain in their relationship, and the amount of projection has made your fs doubt their fashion style. That is why the card disappeared and became lost. That is their energy right now. Their aesthetic is kind of like piratecore mixed with richness. It’s very attractive and will make you feel flush. I see them wearing a corset tank top with a white blouse top, showing their breasts slightly, or they will show their chest and torso in a laid-back way. They will have black pants that are tight to accentuate their body and to match their eyes. They will wear a black steampunk or some type of long jacket with buttons resembling a pirate’s captain. It’s going to fit very nicely. They will leave their hair loose to create that effect. And I am also seeing that sometimes they will switch it and wear a suit while still allowing their chest to show. I'm getting a strong nonbinary aesthetic too. They don't focus on what is feminine or masculine; whatever appeals to them and makes them look attractive in their eyes is what matters. 
How does their aesthetic make them?
Reversed six of wands and the empress.
There is already a huge cliff between their mother, and their fashion focused on piratecore and rich/luxury has drifted them a bit. Their mother isn’t noticing their hard work to find what they like; they are supposed to be into only classy outfits. Everything must be hidden and modest, and they break that. So that has pissed off their mother. The six of wands reversed is about a temporary setback and a lack of recognition for achievements. In the future though, I don't see much of a difference between them so meeting their mother isn’t a likely occurrence. On the bright side, they love their aesthetic, which makes them love themselves more. They are able to rebel against their mother and find comfort in this. The amount of changing things up to fit their mother’s standards killed a part of them, and to be able to gain it back and become resilient is something they are thankful for. They have a strong connection with themselves, and it makes them want to learn how to make their own clothes or design them. But no, this is a hobby and not their major or what they want to have as a career in the future. I also hear that they find themselves to be beautiful now, and a huge weight is off their shoulder. In a way, they are their own mother now (accepting their feminine side and taking care of their inner child), and when you meet, they will prorate a nurturing and mother-like nature. Tranquility is what appeared in my mind; you will feel peaceful around them. A true gemstone amongst the fake ones. 
Masterlist.
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holylulusworld · 3 months
Text
My annoying sexy neighbor
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Title: My annoying sexy neighbor
Written for @buckybarnesbingo (Round 6)
Card: B004
Square Filled: C3: free space - Neighbor AU
Ship/Main Pairing: Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: voyeurism, daydreaming, objectification of Bucky Barnes and his metal arm, a lil fingering, light/implied smut (unprotected)
Summary: Summer is extra hot this year.
Word Count: 1,3k+
Written for week 4 of @buckybarnesevents: Free Week
Prompt filled for: 2023 @buckybarnesbingo (expired): B2: “Get off my lawn”
Prompt filled for: @sebastianstanbingo: Square 2: “I bet all our neighbors can hear you.”
Prompt filled for: Navy and Roo’s slumber party presents bingo @the-slumberparty (expired): crush
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You hate him. You can’t even describe how much you hate him.
James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky to his friends. The worst neighbor ever.
It’s his fault you hate him.
Not because he’s a bad neighbor. No. He’s friendly, a little cocky maybe, but very helpful. If you’d have to describe his character, you’d say he’s a kind guy with a good sense of humor. Bucky offers to mow your lawn, help you with your trashcan, or fix your fence.
You hate him because he slowly makes your resolve crumble to never fall for a man again. Especially not the hot kind of man. You know, the kind of man wanting you to fling your panties across the room and suck him off without even knowing his name.
He makes your life so much harder. Before he moved in across the street, you came home from work and had time to relax. Sometimes you indulged in watching the rerun of old shows.
Now you must race home to not miss him working out, bringing out the trashcan, or mowing the lawn. Whatever Bucky does, he does it shirtless. You get lucky if he wears more than the shortest shorts you ever saw on a man.
If only you could say “Get off my lawn” and forget about him. But you have this stupid crush on your sexy neighbor.
Just like today. You raced home, almost running your trashcan over when parking your car because he was mowing his lawn while shaking his ass.
That bastard dared to wave at you and call you a pretty doll! How dare that man to tease you with his perfect abs on full display!
Sweat was running down his chest, and he did the worst thing possible.
Bucky killed the engine of his mower, jogged toward you, and emptied a bottle of water over his head. Water ran down his body and you had no other choice but to watch it wander down to his shorts. Fucking tight shorts… The fabric left little to nothing to your imagination. “That” was on full display, and you could tell, it was big.
“Hey, doll,” the fucker grinned as your eyes were glued to his artificial arm. A beautiful piece of technology. He once told you it was custom-made, and that he can feel everything, even though, it’s not made of skin, flesh, and bones. “How was work?”
“Boring and…hot,” you swallowed thickly. Your throat was suddenly too dry, and your panties soaked.
“Hot?” He laughed at your predicament. Bucky didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed his body. He had hoped that today was the day you finally broke. “If you are hot,” he stepped closer to run his metal index finger over your cheek, “you can come over and cool off in my pool. I just cleaned it.”
“I-I,” you would kill to swim, but being around Bucky in only your swimsuit was something you tried to avoid. He invited you over more than once to cool off.
“We can order food,” he smirked at you, already grabbing your hand. “Come on, doll. Don’t make me beg. I don’t want to swim alone. We can have a pool party.”
You considered his words. For a second you wanted to chicken out and come up with an excuse. “I promise to wear swim shorts.”
“Okay,” you finally said, defeated by your neediness. “Let me get the trashcan inside and have a shower. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Let me handle the trashcan,” he flashed you a smile. “I’ll be waiting for you after I took care of it and put the mower away. I can mow the rest of my lawn tomorrow.”
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You took your time and checked your appearance in the mirror more than once. It wasn’t in your plans to draw too much attention toward you. So, you wore a light summer dress over your swimsuit and hastily made a salad to have an excuse to visit Bucky. The ladies in the neighborhood love to gossip.
“Doll,” before you got the chance to knock Bucky opened the front door. He glanced at the salad but said nothing. “No food before swimming.”
“It’s for…uh…later,” you stammered, still unsure if it was a good idea to come to Bucky’s place. “If we get hungry after swimming.”
“I will order food, doll,” he purred and shamelessly wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders. You shuddered at the sensation of the cool metal against your heated skin. “You’ll get all you desire.”
Bucky had no clue that your heartbeat quickened, and you felt like your legs were about to give in as he guided you through his house. “Oh gosh! I forgot a towel,” you tried to talk yourself out of this bad idea.
“Doll, I got more than enough towels,” he pecked your cheek. “I got all you’ll need before, during, and after your swim.” Bucky flashed you this irresistible smirk again. “How about you get comfortable, and I put the salad in the fridge and change into my swim shorts.”
“Sure,” you almost whined when he dropped his metal arm from around your shoulders to leave your side. He threw a look over his shoulder to look at you right when you turned around yourself to glance at his wide back and ass.
“Go ahead, Y/N. Get comfortable,” he chuckled and walked a little faster to reach the kitchen and change clothing. Bucky couldn’t wait to get in the pool with you.
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You looked down at your body to check on your swimsuit. Just like Bucky suggested, you got into the water to cool off. Or maybe to hide that you soaked your swimsuit.
“I see you already got comfortable,” Bucky winked at you before he jumped into the pool, splashing water in your face. You shrieked and giggled because he grabbed you by your waist to press you against the pool wall. He smirked when you shuddered in his embrace. “Let’s get you even more comfortable.”
His lips claimed yours before you could ask him if you saw right. You moved your hand between your bodies to feel him up. “Doll, you’re naughty,” he purred against your lips.
“You are the naughty one, wearing no swim shorts, Mr. Barnes,” you smirked while stroking his cock. “You invited me for a swim and come here, wearing nothing but a smirk.”
“Baby, tell me you’re not wet and we can swim or,” he kissed you again, greedily shoving his tongue inside your mouth. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you?”
“No,” you dropped your hand from his cock to wrap your arms around his neck. “Do you know how long I wanted to do this to you?” You slung your legs around his waistline to slowly grind against him.
“Fuck…baby…”
“Louder!” You rubbed yourself against his aching cock, making your sexy neighbor groan loudly. “Louder!!”
“Fuck! I wanna fuck you!” He wildly jerked his hips.
“I bet all our neighbors can hear you,” you teased, all the while rolling your hips. “What about you show me how much you want to fuck me?”
He hastily shoved your swimsuit aside, exposing your cunt to his greedy fingers. “You know that you’re mine from now on. None of the other lonely guys can have you.”
Bucky worked your swollen bud with skilled fingers. Of course, the bastard knew how to make you even more desperate for his cock.
“Bucky,” you whined and whimpered. “Please.”
He silenced your moans with his lips, sealing your fate while replacing his fingers with something better. Bucky slipped inside, ignoring that you groaned against his lips because of the wide stretch.
You held onto him and slung your legs tighter around his waistline for dear life.
“I bet all our neighbors can hear you,” he groaned against your lips. “How about we give them a good reason to talk about us from tomorrow on?”
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Tags in reblog.
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ugh-yoongi · 1 year
Note
Jess' B-Day Hobi request:
Hobi x Reader - Amusement park date. Maybe cute and sexy, like reader feels bad for making him go on a particularly scary ride, so she blows him?
HAPPY BDAY JESS!! 🎉🎉🎉💜💜💜
this is so dfljlgdlkjgf. everyone please pray for hobi he really needs it.
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swallow your pride
pairing: hoseok x reader genre: est. relationship au, pwp; smut warnings: this is mostly just porn, so — a handjob, oral sex (m. receiving which i'm sure you could've guessed), come swallowing, very slight overstimulation. use of pet names. i apologize for the extremely on-the-nose title but it had to be done. no pronouns used for reader. unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1k
You’ve barely crossed the threshold into your hotel room.
Perhaps naively, you’d thought it’d be fun. Thought you’d go on and laugh and grab on to one another and buy the mortifyingly ugly photo at the end. Add it to the stack of all the other mortifyingly ugly photos you’ve collected after years of dragging Hoseok on roller coasters he otherwise wouldn’t go within two-hundred feet of.
Clearly you’d thought wrong.
“I almost died—”
You sigh, pushing Hoseok far enough into the room to close the door. “It was Space Mountain, babe.”
He scoffs. Looks really affronted, offended that you think it so impossible that he could’ve died on Space Mountain. Which just isn’t true. He very well could’ve died—it was very dark and had a lot of sharp turns, not to mention he was a previously undiscovered shade of green by the time it was over.
Not to mention the photo.
Hoseok knew it’d be bad. Knew he hadn’t ridden a second of that roller coaster without the ugliest, most fear-stricken look on his face, and all he could do was try to cash in whatever good karma he had left that it wouldn’t be that bad.
And you—you’d waited for it to pop up on the monitor with the most wicked grin he’s ever seen you wear. So sinister it’d rapidly diminished any hope he’d managed to conjure up. Stuck out your credit card to buy it before he even had a chance to beg.
“That’s not—w-what are you doing?”
What you’re doing is planting both of your hands on his chest to push him onto the bed, rolling your lips to keep from laughing when his knees hit the edge and he tips backwards, overpriced Mickey ears falling off and bouncing to the floor.
What you’re doing is dropping to your knees in front of him, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them. Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat when you start to undo his belt, and it’s instinct, the way he sinks into the mattress, busies his hands in the sheets. Knows to keep them to himself.
What you’re doing is—“Blowing you,” you answer. “That alright?”
“Uh-huh,” comes his automatic response. “Yup. Per-perfectly fine.”
What you’re doing is unbuttoning his jeans and dragging the zipper down, sly smile on your face, tongue pressing into the fat of your cheek, as it strains over his erection. What you’re doing is pushing the denim down to his knees, ghosting your nails along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, delighting in every small gasp that makes it past his lips.
There’s a way Hoseok likes to get sucked off, and it’s almost never like this. Hoseok has never shied away from his neuroticism, and that innate need of his to be in control bleeds into every aspect of his life, including here, so maybe you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised at how pliant he is beneath you. How subdued. Surprised that his hands are still gripping the sheets and not the back of your head. Surprised that his hips are staying level to the mattress, that his mouth isn’t running a mile a minute.
“You’re being awfully behaved,” you note, eyebrow quirking in question.
He blinks, head lolling forward to ask, “You gonna try to dom me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” you retort, taking his cock in your hand. He’s already so, so hard, flushed and leaking precum. “I’m simply assuaging my guilt.”
Hoseok snorts at that. “Because I almost died?”
You spit in your hand, stroking him once, twice. There’s something about the way he shudders in your grasp. Makes you feel powerful, has a quiet whimper of your own slipping through your parted lips. All of it just serves to rile him up even more, his hips rolling in time with your wrist.
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” you say, unable to help yourself; unable to keep the awe out of your voice.
And Hoseok, the cheeky fucker, preens. Closes his eyes and smiles up at the ceiling, not a hint of shame to be found. “What are the od—fuck—odds of you apologizing with your m-mouth?”
You pretend to think it over. “Hmm.” Lean in closer, your breath ghosting along all that sensitive skin. “Pretty high, I’d say.”
There’s another tart comment on the tip of Hoseok’s tongue, practically visible in the stale air of this hotel room, but it dissolves into nothing but a guttural groan once your lips are finally wrapped around him. Tapers into staccato whimpers as your throat constricts and you swallow. He’s still rolling his hips, fucking into your mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the sheets tighter every time he hits the back of your throat.
Hoseok has never once denied himself of anything. This included.
Spit pools in the corners of your mouth, drips down your chin. Messy, just how he likes it, and there’s nothing more dizzying than Hoseok in the throes of pleasure. Nothing that drags you to the edge faster than watching him go mindless from the indulgence of it. Makes it nearly impossible to focus, but you want to unravel him all the way, want to be responsible for it, want to push him to the brink of overstimulation.
On you go.
It’s so much—your hollowed cheeks, the way you’re fisting at what doesn’t fit, the sounds both of you are making. Has his balls tightening, has him stuttering out your name in a pathetic little whine. Has him so disoriented that the first drop of cum hits your tongue before he can warn you.
“Fuck, fuck—baby I’m gonna, shit—”
He spills into your mouth with a cry, hands finally moving to the contours of your cheeks. And normally you’d take it easy on him, swallow and move up the bed to kiss him just as sloppy, sit on his face, but something about Hoseok in this moment has you feeling undone. Has you wanting to ruin him entirely.
So you keep going.
Hoseok’s eyes go wide. He panics, tries to pull you off, but you know him. Know he wouldn’t let you if he really didn’t want to, just needs a minute to push past the discomfort. You also know you’ll be paying for this later, after he’s come back down to earth, but you’re finding it hard to care.
After all, he almost died. You’ve got a lot to apologize for.
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stellayuta · 3 months
Text
Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 5 (FINALE)
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Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 💙
PART 1 ||| PART 2 ||| PART 3 ||| PART 4 ||| PART 5
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synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.
content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, all sorts of sexy stuff (fingering, oral, orgasm denial), swearing, angsty elements, cheating and discussion of mental health <3 WARNING! Always use protection!
word count: 10k
a/n: part 5 and the final part! For the purpose of this story, Last race of the season takes place in Japan, not Abu Dhabi.
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"Y/N..." A voice tries to break your rigid concentration. "Listen, Y/N..."
"What!" you snap finally, turning to face your anxious coworker. You look away from your monitor to find one of the timid interns holding her laptop shakily, mortified at your outburst. You clear your throat and quickly readjust your computer glasses.
"I'm sorry about that, I was just going through some of the client meeting notes." You clarify, pointing at your screen. "What's wrong?"
"No, I just wanted to make sure the tickets were booked right. I've never traveled out of the county. And this is such a big deal as an intern, I-I want to make sure I do everything right!" she blurts out, making you give her a small, nostalgic smile. You remember when you were an intern - tiny, timid, clueless. When you moved out of your small town, you left behind all the things that restricted or haunted you. Now your new job is flashier than ever, in the heart of a metropolitan city, buzzing with people and possibilities and with a promotion on the horizon. It had been a year, and you don't even remember Megumi's face anymore. You had no hard feelings and not even a single second of your time left to give to him anymore.
It was hard at first of course, but encouragement and support from your friends and a lot of self-work soon helped you find balance and self-satisfaction in life. You were at your healthiest at this point. Away from turmoil and away from self-doubt.
"Y/N, did you listen?" the intern looked at you nervously, derailing your train of thought yet again.
"Come again, sorry."
"The other Manager has recommended your name to accompany me at the Tech Summit, with two other interns. He said you'll be able to manage us properly. They've already booked your tickets."
You almost choke on the coffee you're sipping.
"What? Who the hell gave them-" you begin to roar but then looking at the poor girl cower in fear, you sit back down.
"No, no. I'm not mad at you."
You were mad because this was the weekend of the last race. The decider match.
Of course, it had been a year, you had metamorphosized, moved on. But you never forgot the race that got you on the edge of your seat back in Vegas. And neither did you forget the man who drove you crazy with lust. Not even for a single day. His business card was still hidden underneath your phone cover, creaseless. You had never dared to look at his number.
Now, you cheered him on as a fan. Following his races, rooting for him. Every now and then, your heart would ache - but you were happy for him. The only connection you had with him was through your device screen.
After a disappointing end to his last season, you had a lot of guilt. He clearly looked a bit weary, insomnia ridden for sure. Not willing to talk during interviews, keeping a low profile. He had gathered a lot of negative press because of this, people on social media sending him death threats, cyber bullying him, picking apart anything he said or did. It broke you to see him that way and there were many times you wanted to reach out - comfort him. But you knew it wasn't right.
You weren't ready then and he definitely didn't need a reminder that you happened to him. And now, it's too late for any of that.
Yuta maintained his aggressive, dominant racing style that he cultivated over the last year compared to the calm, calculative run he had during the years prior. It was a shock to the grid, but newer fans were very fond of the new beast that the track had birthed. He spoke less, remained polite and stayed out of trouble - focusing everything on winning races.
Fan interaction was the least of his concerns right now because Geto's team, Red Bull - had come up with massive and effective updates making the fight for the title a challenging yet thrilling one. They wanted to continue their laurels from last year and secure Geto his second win. They were closely tailed by Gojo and Geto's teammate, Mahito.
Geto and Yuta were currently tied in the standings. The final match was to take place on Sunday. The decider. Yuta and Geto's home race. And you would now miss it because that stupid manager can't be bothered to move his ass.
"I have plans. I can't make it." you flatly tell the intern who merely frowns. She was probably prepared to get a rejection from me because she is ready with her rebuttal. "The manager said you had committed a few weekends this summer. He just picked this one based on that."
"I'll talk to him." you reply, shaking your head and pinching your throbbing temple. With great responsibilities, come great migraines.
"Where is the summit anyway?" you ask, already typing out a message for her manager.
"Oh, It's in Japan. I'm quite excited, it's a beautiful country."
Japan?
You backspace the entire message.
"Never mind, I'm coming." You leave your laptop open as the split window flashes with a formula one ad - "Decider Race in Suzuka, Japan. Join the Fun, December this Year!"
"Let me meet up with your supervisors and talk more."
*****
The immigration at Japan's Nagoya International Airport, with three kids tailing you, hiding behind you like puppies is a bit of hassle with the language barrier and everything, but you persist regardless.
It's rather comfortably cool but not bitingly cold, even for December, owing to Suzuka's more southern location - compared to Tokyo. There is no sign of snowfall as you witnessed from the airplane while it descended. It would be good conditions for the race - a bit dry perhaps. And of course, the summit, the main attraction!
The interns, though a bit overwhelmed by the new environment, are starting to show signs of excitement as well. Their initial shyness is giving way to curiosity, their eyes wide with wonder at the sights and sounds of the bustling airport. You smile, knowing that this experience will be a memorable adventure for them too.
You are finally able to catch a shuttle to the hotel you're staying at - a five star one (courtesy of your company) and are finally able to relax, staring out the foggy window at the organized and clean Japanese streets, and the people, dressed in plain, formal clothes walking to work perhaps. You almost get lost in the mundanity of it all until the interns alert you that the hotel is here.
You all get down with all your luggage and gawk at the premier hotel building with its cream granite exterior, European design and tall pillars. It looked a bit out of place in the minimalistic spread of Suzuka. There is already a line at the receptionist's desk when you near it, making you sigh.
"Ah foo-" you turn to face your interns. "Can one of you hold the place while I sit somewhere?" The interns hesitantly, but definitively shake their head to say No. Kids, they grow up fast.
You stand in line for what feels like an hour but is only a few minutes until you hear an entourage approach you with their shiny, expensive luggage and matching clothes.
"We have VIP access, let us cut." one of them, a suited and no-nonsense woman tells you. You raise a brow at her, staring at her chapping red lips and burgundy jacket.
"Like hell. Cut after us, we're going first." You tell them flatly.
"Listen, we don't have time for this so please just comply..." the woman tries to negotiate but you don't want to budge.
"I don't have time either." you raise your hand.
"Let me handle this..." A man steps in front of the woman, towering over both of you. He is completely covered head to toe in a red beanie, red track suit and dark glasses with a black face-mask. Before he can say anything though, he simply looks at you and your interns.
"Y/N?" He removes his glasses to show a pair of cerulean eyes that you immediately match with a snowy head and a flashy personality in your brain.
"No way..." you clasp at your mouth. "Gojo Satoru?" you exclaim, confusing the parade of staff, probably Ferrari staff behind him.
"Next!" the receptionist bellows before you two can talk further and you make haste, finishing up the formalities, grabbing the keycard and returning to talk to Gojo, followed by your heard of puppies who look at Gojo skeptically. Of course they would, if a flashy, red man showed up.
"I'm- Where the hell have you been? You just disappeared!" He says and you open your mouth to defend yourself but he clearly has more to say.
"Yuta was distraught! What the hell happened between the two of you anyway! He won't talk to Geto, well they are kind of on weird terms now anyway. But he won't even talk to me!"
Hearing Yuta's name makes you immediately divert your eyes.
"H-How has he been?" you ask, softly.
"Well he was in a mood last season. We were all afraid he'd run us over with his Merc." Gojo admits, recalling some eerie memory of Yuta. "Well, specifically he was angry. But wouldn't talk about it. He got reprimanded by the management of course and started to focus his anger on the races instead." He tells you.
"I mean, he was always a beast on the track, a once in a generation talent. But now, he's simply incomparable. The only races he lost out on this season were ones where he pushed the car so hard, the engine or the mechanism went off."
Internally, you are happy that Yuta seems to be doing well. But somewhere, you feel a pang of discomfort. This isn't the Yuta you know. Or any of his peers know.
"Give me your number by the way..." Gojo asks, excitedly, removing his phone, also bright red. Human Ferrari he is, for sure.
"What for?"
"To leak on the internet..."
"Gojo..."
"What to hang out of course. And I have something to send to you." He says, forcing you to divulge your number which you do, with a grimace. What could go wrong anyway.
"Oh, and I don't know if you're still on talking terms with Yuta but, he's on floor 5 of this hotel, meet him if you want-" Gojo tells you and your heart skips a beat. You sneak a glance at your keycard and feel your throat go dry. You are on floor 5 as well. Before you can say anything else though, the Ferraris are on their way.
"Make sure you are free tomorrow! It's race day!" He says, without turning as their entourage enters the glass elevators.
"How do you know him, Y/N, he was quite hot..." One of the interns tugs at your elbow.
"Was he a former sweetheart?" The other intern grins at you.
"Hell no!" you snap. "That's a professional formula one racer. Watch ESPN a bit more, kids." you say, pulling them along with you to floor 5. You hope and pray with all your might that you don't run into Yuta at any point. Only when you send them off to their suites and enter your own, you finally take a huge breath of relief.
You thought you were over Yuta as well. That you could look at him and interact with him as fan. Maybe that was the case, given you'd never see run into him again. You cover your reddening face with your hands as you slump down to the ground and go into memory mode. It all comes back to you all of a sudden. His height, his dark hair, his large, innocent eyes, his firm, toned body and careful hands. His calming voice and his cozy demeanor. The more you think about him, the soggier your panties feel. You cannot afford to get out of this hotel room and run into him. You have no idea what you will do to him if you see him. Plus, what if he has a girlfriend now? Control yourself, Y/N. Show maturity.
You suck in a harsh breath and get off the carpeted floor, instead removing your laptop from your bag and checking emails to distract yourself. An ad keeps popping up in the corner of your screen though - about the Decider Race in Suzuka. And after all your attempts to ignore it, you finally click on it, annoyed.
You go through the seats and the prices. Even the cheapest, general admission ticket you can find sells for a fortune, making you gasp at the numbers. Great. This gives you a solid reason to NOT go. Now you can use it as an excuse to convince your brain that you are not losing out on an opportunity.
You shut the tab and continue looking at your agenda for tomorrow, smiling and humming to yourself in relief. That is until you hear your phone buzz to life, beside your laptop.
You check it to see a few messages from an unknown number.
"Helloooo!!!"
"Gojo here. Satoru Gojo. Handsomest driver on the grid. Ferrari's muse and face."
"You are already 20 seconds late at replying. Be quicker!"
You cringe at the string of messages and send him a thumbs up emoji as a reply, snickering menacingly when he sends another string of complaints. You wonder if Gojo too has a queue of women waiting for him to notice them. In that case, has he been influencing Yuta too?
You shut the thought down immediately. You're a fan. You remind yourself.
"Look what I got for you. Thank me later."
*Attached File*
Did he send you a trojan virus? nope. It's worse.
You open up the PDF file to find a ticket of some sort. Only it's the paddock VIP ticket for the race tomorrow. You'll be in Ferrari's stands.
You type out a long, long, long message. One full of swears and reprimands. But you backspace all of it and instead hit the call button.
"Ah, hi. Did you see-"
"WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS GOJO SATORU!" you shriek into the phone receiver earning a yelp from Gojo.
"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Y/N. You can't say no."
"But-"
"I've already paid."
"....."
"Oh, come on. Cheer for me. Come. You'll have fun!"
You are too angry to answer, and you simply cut the call. After your five minutes of anger subsides, anxiety takes its place. So, this is it. You get to see Yuta demolish the track live. Maybe this will be the last time ever. Maybe it's a good thing.
You decide to not think too much about it and just sleep on it instead. And sleep comes fairly easy, after your day-long air travel and the nervousness that maybe Yuta is hugging his blankets with his muscular arms, right next door. You picture those arms around your waist for a second and reminisce his deep blue eyes as you fall asleep, a bit bothered and surely wet.
*****
The next morning, you wake up before the sun even has a chance to show its face. You take a cold shower and prepare everything for the day to come. The Tech Summit will be a crucial stage to showcase your company and you, and your interns have to do a good job. As soon as the clock strikes 7, you go knocking on their doors to wake them up by force.
"Rise and shine, children! We've got some serious networking ahead of us!" you announce with infectious enthusiasm. Suddenly, the volume of your voice strikes you, and a wave of panic sweeps over you at the thought of waking Yuta. The mere idea of him hearing your voice and peeking out from one of the doors sends a shiver down your spine. With your heart racing, you quickly inform the interns that you're heading to the reception area. Without missing a beat, you make your escape, your high heels tapping a rhythm masked by the plush carpet that blankets the entire floor, each step a silent testament to your urgency.
The ground floor lobby of the hotel in the morning is a serene yet bustling oasis of activity. Sunlight streams in through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the polished marble floors. The air is filled with a subtle blend of fresh coffee and the delicious aroma of breakfast from the lavish dining court, north of the lobby. Plush, modern sofas and armchairs are arranged in cozy clusters, inviting guests to sit and relax.You were too busy with Gojo to notice any of this, last evening. 
As you walk around amongst the many hotel guests who are going about their way, enthralled, you take a seat in one of the sofas. You even see familiar colors, worn by some of the people in groups. You see the full teals of Aston Martin, the pinks of Alpine, the orange of McLaren. Looks like the entire grid is housed in this hotel. You gulp as you try to keep an eye out for any sight of black and subtle teal of Mercedes. 
Instead, you feel a shifting of feet beside you and find a group of dark blue and red clad people looking rather grave and sitting on adjacent sofas, in a close huddle. It doesn’t take too long to recognize long, sleek hair half tied up and half down. His snake-like eyes scan the huddle, as if he’s commanding them. You don’t forget the aura of Geto Suguru. A pale guy, with wild matted and blue hair sits beside him, with a manic expression on his face, like he’s his lap dog. This must be Mahito. They seem to be having some sort of serious conversation with their team. You can’t help but listen in, keeping your eyes on the ground. 
“So what are we going to do about Strategy A?” one of the Red Bull engineers asks Geto, in a low voice, looking around to see if any of the teams are paying attention.
“Act normal, Garner.” Geto tells him, smiling sweetly but darkly. “Don’t act suspicious and no one will notice.”
“We are to proceed with Strategy B. We don’t attack the rest of the grid today. We will only focus on the Mercedes duo.” Geto states.
“That was the plan all along.” The Red Bull staff interjects. “What are you saying?”
“Well your plan was for me to defend against Okkotsu and Mahito to defend against Merc number 2, Inumaki.” Geto begins as the team leans in closer to pay attention. Mahito seems strangely excited to get a mention from Geto.
“My plan is that we leave Inumaki alone. He’s of no consequence to us. He’ll be too busy defending against the Ferraris.” Geto continues and your brows furrow. What is he on to?
“I am sitting on the pole. And Okkotsu is second. The best way to go about it is to get Mahito to play on the offensive. Okkotsu gets rash and risky when faced with competition or close tailers. It is likely Mahito and Okkotsu will take each other out.”
Your eyes widen as you hear this. 
“And Inumaki has the slower car. Ferrari’s engineers wouldn’t anticipate number 2 and 3 being knocked out. They are more prepared for a podium finish, not the top finish. This will ensure that Red Bull will go home with the Driver’s Championship trophy.” Geto concludes his idea and the Red Bull team immediately begin discussing its feasibility. From the sound of it, most of them seem on board. Mahito seems to be the most excited, willing to give anything for Geto to get his second title.
The absurdity of the ongoing discussion is enough for you to look up and find yourself directly looking into Geto Suguru’s skeptical eyes. Your nostrils flare and a sweat breaks out atop your forehead at the thought of being caught. He narrows his eyes at you but dismisses you as a fan. He doesn’t recognize you. 
Thank GOODNESS.
You smile at him and quickly move away from their group of sofas. As fast as you can. So they are going to use Yuta’s driving style against him today. Which is fine. They are willing to crash into him to take him out as well. This is all a pre-planned, premeditated attempt to injure, or…you gulp… murder.
You lean against one of the reception desks to gather yourself for a minute. The lobby’s morning hustle now feels like a surreal backdrop to the chilling plot you’ve just overheard. The hum of conversations, the clinking of breakfast dishes, and the soft footsteps of guests blend into a muted buzz as your mind races. You need to warn Yuta, but how? 
Your interns show up soon, their bright, eager faces a stark contrast to the dark conversation you just overheard. They’re ready to go for the summit, unaware of the dangerous game being plotted in the corner of the lobby. As they approach, you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and try to push the sinister revelations to the back of your mind. You don’t see the Mercedes team anywhere in the lobby anyway, so you take your leave for the moment, feeling a tightness in your chest.
While the task at hand is crucial, you are more than confident that you can handle it flawlessly. The Tech Summit is being held at one of the corporate headquarters in the city area, a sleek skyscraper with reflective glass windows that glisten in the morning sun. As you step into the spacious lobby, you are greeted by an impressive display of innovation: booths showcasing various avenues in computing. Executives in sharp suits mingle with tech enthusiasts, the air buzzing with excitement and possibility.
Once you are in, you send off your beaming and well-prepared interns to talk to some big shots, their enthusiasm palpable as they approach various booths and networking clusters. You retire to a quiet corner, checking your phone and brainstorming for your next move. It's only a few hours until the race in Suzuka, Japan, a pivotal event in the Formula One calendar. The summit’s focus on the intersection of technology and sports is evident, with several companies proudly displaying their investments in Formula One.
Tech giants are pouring millions into F1, not just for branding but for the practical applications of cutting-edge technology in car performance, data analytics, and real-time communication systems. The fusion of high-speed racing and high-tech innovation is a perfect synergy, driving advancements that benefit both the automotive and tech industries.
However, the tension from earlier this morning lingers. Despite the engaging presentations and lively discussions around you, the clandestine conversation you overheard refuses to leave your mind. The race in Suzuka today is more than just a sporting event—it’s a battleground where the stakes are life and death, a thought that chills you as you consider Geto’s ruthless strategy.
You open your phone to find a few messages from Gojo and it makes a bulb go off in your head.
“Come to the hotel lobby at around 4PM. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I’m at the track right now.” He has texted. You read the message and pull out Yuta’s card from your phone cover. You don’t waste time and call him right away. A woman receives your call on the other end.
“Hello! Is Yuta free?” you ask, desperately but you can tell from the woman’s silence that it is not the case.
“He won’t be free until after the race. I’m sorry.”
‘I-it’s fine.” you laugh nervously, keeping the phone.
That idea was a bust.
Before you can think more, you are pulled in by one of your interns to help you out with a heated discussion they are having with a company representative on use cases of Artificial Intelligence. The rest of the morning and afternoon goes this way, with your hands full of discussions and debates with Men in Tech, mistaking you for one of the interns until you sigh and show them your badge of ‘Director of Software Engineering’, before obliterating them during the ‘discussions’ with a curt smile.
You don’t think about the race until after you have exited the premises of the Summit along with your pumped up interns who are waxing lyrical about you. They won’t stop talking even on the cab ride back home.
“That was amazing Y/N. You saved our necks.”
“Just be confident and patient till they give you a moment to strike.” you tell them wearily. 
Probably a strategy Mahito will be using today. 
“Do we go out today for drinks? How about it?” The interns begin discussing among themselves while I tune them out, shaking my leg in agitation.
“Y/N, want to join us?” one of them asks you eagerly and politely reject their invitation.
“I have plans today.”
“What plans?” The male intern asks, curious. The other two also lean in to listen.
“I am going to watch a Formula One Race, it’s in Suzuka.” You tell them and their eyes go all sparkly before they begin smirking at you.
“It’s the hot driver guy isn’t it. He invited you? That’s awesome Y/N! Looks like he’s interested!” This makes you scoff. “He’s just a friend. He’s not the one I have eyes for anyway.”
“Oooo, so there is someone you have eyes for!” they chime together. “Who is it?” 
An image instantly pops into your head. One of him hovering over you as you moaned out his name. You smile to yourself and dismiss the interns’ questions, making all of them pout.
As you enter the hotel lobby, a stark contrast from its earlier bustling atmosphere greets you. The lively chatter and movement have dissipated, leaving behind an eerie quiet that amplifies the grandeur of the space. The reception area, usually a hub of activity, is now manned by a solitary staff member who nods politely as you pass.
Heading towards the elevator, a wave of unease washes over you, chilling your hands. Should you attempt to find Yuta by knocking on every door on the fifth floor? No, that would likely result in being ejected from the hotel.
Entering your room with a frustrated grunt, you slam the door shut behind you. Another cold shower helps clear your mind, though your appetite remains nonexistent. Stomach growling, you mechanically brush your teeth and change out of your morning pant suit into a comfortable ensemble: a red sweater, blue jeans, and sneakers. The choice of red is a nod to Ferrari, aligning with your plans for the day.
Feeling more at ease in casual attire, you pause to gather your thoughts. It’s 3:45 PM. You should head out now. You grab your phone, keys and wallets and walk out of the suite, impatiently trotting towards the elevator. You turn the corner just in time to see it close. Maybe you are hallucinating but you barely spot a glint of black and teal behind the doors as they swiftly close.
You stop dead in your tracks for merely a moment before you sprint towards the elevator. But that one is gone now. You press the down button for the second one and tap your foot on the ground, waiting for it to arrive desperately. 
When it takes you down to the ground floor, you come out, wildly looking around to see the familiar colors again. When you finally see them, your words all drown in your feelings as you see the black and teal clad man get into the back of a car, giving the driver a quick nod and a short smile. 
It was from fairly far away that you saw him, but you were certain. It was Yuta.
You have to hold yourself upright as you nearly begin hyperventilating and the receptionist has to come and check on you.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m fine.” you assure him, as he makes you sit on one of the sofas. You watch intently through the glass windows as Yuta’s car zooms past. That was your chance! If only you had come out two minutes earlier and weren’t drifting away in your fantasies.
You had to focus now. You can’t afford to have your legs turn to jelly or your head spin out of control anymore.
When the person meant to pick you up arrived, donning a red jacket and black pants, you were completely calm and composed — now willing to think clearly about what to do next.
The drive to the Suzuka Circuit is rather short for obvious reasons. The hotel had been picked to be accessible from the circuit. The car your driver has brought along isn’t a Ferrari, unfortunately.
Arriving at Suzuka Circuit as the evening settles in, the atmosphere is electric with anticipation. The sprawling complex is illuminated by bright floodlights, casting long shadows across the paddock and grandstands. The air buzzes with the hum of engines from nearby practice sessions and the excited chatter of fans who have gathered from around the world to witness the fight for domination between Red Bull and Mercedes.
The paddock itself is a hive of activity. Teams in their distinctive colors, now suited up in their race-suits, bustle about, mechanics fine-tuning the cars under the watchful eyes of engineers. Media personnel dart between interviews, capturing the pre-race fervor and probing for insights. Paparazzi lurk at every corner, their cameras flashing intermittently as they seek shots of drivers and celebrities who have shown up to support the drivers/take pictures for social media.You stare at the whole spread, starry eyed and very much in awe. It feels surreal as the world around you moves at 2x speed.
The cars themselves are a spectacle to behold. The sleek, aerodynamic designs gleam under the lights, adorned with sponsor logos and intricate details. Each team’s car reflects their engineering prowess and commitment to performance excellence, poised to navigate the demanding twists and turns of Suzuka Circuit. You want to go ahead and take a closer look but the Ferrari guy who is guiding you around stops you from doing so until later.
“You can see Ferrari’s car later.” he tells you reassuringly but you frown at him.
You spot Mercedes, clad in their silvery-black-teal livery, standing out with their meticulous preparations, but you maintain a straight face. Red Bull, in their vibrant blue and red, exude confidence and determination as you narrow your eyes at them. 
You are finally taken to Ferrari’s section — an attractive mix of red and gold flying in the stands and the air. The fans add to the vibrant tapestry of the evening. Dressed in team colors, they wave flags and banners, eagerly awaiting autographs and selfies with their favorite drivers. The scent of food from vendors mixes with the exhaust fumes, creating a unique blend that signifies race day excitement.
“Oh, look. There’s Mr. Gojo!” your guide cheers excitedly pointing to a separated section where two shiny, red cars sit in all their glory, surrounded by an army of mechanics and staff, also dressed in red. Seated in one of Ferrari's cars, a familiar figure catches your eye. He sits in the cockpit, helmet off, his tousled white hair catching the light as he adjusts his gloves with practiced ease. Spotting you amidst the crowd, Gojo flashes a brilliant smile and waves enthusiastically from the cockpit.
“Excited?” He tries to yell out over the crowd as you near him and his team. You nod and smile at his engineers before cornering him. 
“Did you see Yuta?” you ask Gojo.
“Busy day man. Haven’t really kept an eye out for him. Why won’t you go talk to him? Mercedes is right over there!” He says, pointing a gloved finger at the black and teal team.
“Won’t allow her… strategic secrets can’t be spilled.” Your guide tells you and Gojo, who seems to be unaware.
“Gojo, there’s something I need to tell you…” you begin, your unwavering eyes grabbing Gojo’s full attention as he puts on a serious face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-It’s about Geto Suguru.”
“Suguru?” Gojo asks, his voice softening by a note. “What’s up with him?”
“Their team. They’re planning a dangerous strategy.” you say, only to get a few stares from the engineering team over at Ferrari. Gojo narrows his eyes at you, the cerulean blue piercing through you.
“And how do you know about this strategy?”
“I overheard. They’re going to make Yuta crash out.”
“Y/N.” Gojo calls out your name, and for the first time in his life, he sounds serious as hell. “Are you accusing Suguru of conspiracy? You know it’s illegal and could cost him his license.”
“But that’s what I heard!” you try to reason but Gojo doesn’t want to hear any of it.
“Suguru has known us since we were young. He would not do such a thing. And I suggest you don’t say this to anyone, not without evidence. Especially to Yuta, he won’t take kindly to it.” Gojo warns you. You hesitate on your spot before your Ferrari guide has to pull you away from the cars.
“Okay, that’s about it.” He says, dragging you away. “We can’t meddle with his concentration right before the race. Talk with him later, Miss Y/N.”
“B-but, I wasn’t done.” you complain, feeling a sting of pain in your elbow where the man grips you. “Hey, let me go!” 
“Listen! I just don’t want you confusing our drivers!” He finally snaps, spitting out at you.
“Their mental state is important! You can’t just say these things to them and bother them right before a crucial race!” he roars as I cringe in the slight flame of fear I feel inside him.
Everyone is way too busy in their chatter and taking photos of cars and drivers to notice what’s happening so you will have to struggle out of this on your own. 
You try to break free from his grip but in vain. 
“Let them get onto the track. I’ll let you go then.” He tells you, calmly.
“Are you holding me hostage right now? I said I understand, let me go!” you yelp, going for another twist of your arm to break free but the man has an iron grip. You begin panicking again now until you see another arm appear from the corner of your eye and hold on to the guide’s arm. 
The arm, covered in silvery black, padded material of a race suit. When you look at his face, your breath nearly stops. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, he barely seems to have noticed you. His penetrating gaze is fixed on your guide and he has him trapped in place.
“What’s the problem here?” He asks, in a rough low voice.
“N-Nothing, I was just escorting her away. Nothing wrong here, Mr. Okkotsu.” the guide stutters away, intimidated by Yuta.
Yuta looks the same, yet noticeably different at the same time. His once doe-like, innocent eyes now are half-lidded and uninterested, hiding secrets and carrying unknown burdens. He barely wants to smile, his lips stuck in a straight, firm line unwilling to curve. His jaw seems a bit more defined now, seemingly as he appears to look slightly manlier, and a lot more unapproachable. He has noticeable purple shadows under his eyes now and an eerily heavy aura.
“Do you not know how to behave with a woman? Leave her at once.” He says, grimly. When the guide finally lets me go and scurries away, Yuta finally looks at me, “Please, take—” but before he can finish his sentences, his lips freeze and his pupils dilate. You yourself let out a small gasp before his name exits your mouth in the sweetest voice possible. “Yuta…”
Yuta stands still for a while, his gaze not moving from you. You see his lips quiver and the muscles in his jaw ripple as he wordlessly takes his leave, moving quickly through the people, running away from you.
Not wanting to let him go to the race like that, you follow him. You follow him into a unisex restroom, closing and locking the door behind you as you find him fidgeting with the tap and the paper towels, unwilling to look at you or the mirror. The dim, dirty lights of the place only highlight his somber features as you frown at him.
You stand next to him until he is forced to acknowledge your presence. 
“H-how have you been, Y/N?” he asks, in a shaky voice.
Good? Better? I haven’t moved on from you? What do you tell him?
The stench and claustrophobia of this restroom doesn’t help the situation at all.
“I’ve been doing better, Yuta. How have you been?” you ask, tenderly. He still won’t look at you.
“I’ve been the same really. Just working hard. Racing. Boring stuff. Haha.” He laughs nervously, licking his lips, keeping his eyes down. 
“Yuta, if you don’t want to see me right now or talk to me. Tell me.” You say, with concern. “I don’t want to spoil your mood before the race.” 
“Not at all. A racer can’t let things like this affect him.” He laughs nervously yet again. “How come you’re here? Gojo invite you or something?”
“He did. That’s besides the point.” You say, getting back to business. “I wanted to meet you to tell you something.”
“Why? Do you want to get laid again? Did Megumi cheat on you again?” He interrupts. “We have all the time after the race, why don’t you excuse me now.” He furrows his brows.
“No, that’s not—”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He confesses. “But, Y/N. I don’t know if I can actually handle seeing your face right now. Because you haunt my waking hours and my nightmares every single day.” He continues.
“I never stopped thinking about how you left me that day. I was begging you to stop. You don’t love me, right? Heck, I haven’t even been able to look at a woman after that. Then let me suffer in peace.” Hearing all of that breaks your heart but you have no right to console him.  
“Is there anything left to say Y/N? Do you want to tell me how much you don’t love me?” he asks bitterly now, finally looking into your eyes. Dark blue, not somber anymore but teary. Vulnerable. Evidently, very much in love with you, after all those months apart.
“Well then, the race is going to start soon, I should —”
Before he can finish though, you grab his suit and pull him down to kiss him. Euphoria spreads through your mind and body, a soothing calm coating your entire being as you feel his lips mingle with yours. He doesn’t resist — he too is a victim of his own yearning. 
The two of you grab a hold of each other's hair and deepen the kiss. You entirely mess up his perfectly combed hair until it falls to the front of his forehead, brushing against yours. The two of you don’t even surface for a breath of air and keep kissing until it’s physically impossible and you have to separate — your face red, and your lips swollen. Both of you panting.
You swipe your thumb on his plump bottom lip, staring at it as you speak to him. 
“Did you get your answer now?”
Yuta seems to be in a daze though, completely bowled over by your bold attempt.
“Listen carefully, Yuta.” you tell him. “The raging maniac I’ve been seeing on the track this past year. That’s not you. You have to play it smart and smooth today, do you understand?”
“Y/N…” he chants, running a hand through your hair and pinching your cheek. “If I don’t drive dominantly, I won’t win.”
“Okkotsu Yuta, if you have ever loved me, promise me you will not drive rashly today.” you tell him clearly, with an air of finality in your voice and he stares at you.
“I’ll do what’s best at that moment, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”
“No! You have to promise me!” 
“Okay, okay!” he says, giving up, separating from you and opening up the restroom door. “Race starts in a few. I’m going for real now.”
“Please, Yuta. Be careful.” you repeat, tearing up now. “There’s so much I want to say to you later.”
“I’ll see you later with the trophy in hand, that’s a promise.” Yuta states. And for the first time in what seems like an eternity, he brings out the smile he always flashed earlier. Your Yuta’s heart-warming, genuine smile.
The two of you leave the restroom at last and he would not let you go back to the Ferrari zone. Instead, making you sit with his black and silver army of curious Mercedes folk. They all look at you like you’re some kind of shiny toy and it makes you blush and hide behind Yuta.
“Take care of her. Don’t scare her, I will know.” Yuta warns them, taking your hand and leading you to one of the fancy pavilions reserved for staff and their guests. They hand you a pair of headphones and make you sit with some of the women who happen to be the WAGs of the crew and the drivers. You have the pleasure of joining Inumaki’s hot as hell girlfriend who is wearing a silken top and an elegant black skirt along with a heart-winning smile. And there you are with your Ferrari sweater.
[Music recommendation, damn even the color of the audio track goes with the story:]
Yuta runs off quickly after that to hop into his car and have a final conversation with his engineers before he and his teammate Inumaki are called off to join the starting order for the formation lap. From your vantage point, you watch as the sleek, powerful machines take their positions. The sight of Yuta in his Mercedes, with his intense focus and determination, fills you with a mixture of pride and anxiety. 
As the formation lap begins, the cars glide gracefully around the track, their engines producing a symphony of power. The tension builds with every passing moment, the crowd’s anticipation reaching a fever pitch. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart racing in sync with the machines on the track. After a few minutes, the cars begin lining up in order again and the crowd goes silent — with Geto and Yuta making up the front line and an eager Mahito right on Yuta’s tail.
The race is about to begin, and you can only hope that Yuta will deliver on his promise. You press your palms together in anticipation and pray for Yuta to be safe.
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They show the faces of all twenty drivers in a promotional video running over on the giant screens. You spot Yuta just as they announce the beginning of the race.
The five red lights come to life one by one with a beep and at the next beat of your heart, they go off, the car engines revving to life and the crowd going ballistic with cheer as Geto crosses Yuta and Yuta rapidly shifts to the side, going tire to tire with Geto’s Red Bull, sliding past him by a minimal margin and taking lead of the race as the fans erupt into cheer. You find yourself standing up and pumping your fists in the air. 
The cars follow the leading duo, creeping along behind them in quick succession.
“That's Good there Yuta. Keep pushing." You here a robotic voice in your ears. Probably Yuta's engineer.
“Copy that." You hear Yuta's voice and blush. Inumaki’s girlfriend eyeing you and grinning.
As the first lap comes to an end and continues into the second lap, there's a buzz of conversation going on in the room. The engineers and staff moving around, barking at each other and some glued to the gigantic screens.
“The car's doing well. Good job guys." Yuta sends out a message.
You overhear two of the engineers discussing among themselves that Yuta was being chattier and nicer than usual today and you smirk internally.
As the second lap progresses through the team witnesses a strange change in positions. Geto slows down ever so slightly to let Mahito’s car pass. There is a bit of commotion going on inside the room, curious discussions about Red Bull’s strategy taking place but you are aware what's going to happen as Mahito's slithering car inches closer to Yuta and activates its DRS.
“No!" You yell out and the entire room turns to look at you.
“Yuta! He needs to get out of the way! He-" 
But before the engineers can register what you're saying or what's happening on the track you see Mahito’s car touch Yuta's from the behind, Yuta intercepting this and narrowly avoiding being tossed in the air. He does get pushed off the track though and into the grass until he gains control and slowly makes his way back onto the track. Now in 7th place.
You are the only one who breathes a sigh of relief because you're the only one who is aware of what went down behind the scenes. There is an uproar in the room now, a lot of them cursing out Mahito and Red Bull to no end. 
One of them finds the time to connect with Yuta on the Radio and ask if he's fine.
“Yeah, I'm alright guys." He reassures everyone. “Pushed far behind though. That seemed pretty deliberate. Put that up for review please." His voice breaks through the radio.
The crowd collectively gasps as they now see Geto swap places with Mahito and regain his position as the leader.
“Yuta. We can salvage this. Stick to the first strategy. Try to be aggressive.” The engineer instructs Yuta.
"Copy, that. At least until I gain P3" Yuta replies, making the engineers exchange  panicked glances.
You see Yuta in action on the big screen and now understand what people have been saying about his feral driving. You witness as he pushes the car to its absolute limit, overtaking two cars — an Aston Martin and Itadori’s Ferrari in one go at one of the fast corners, leaving them startled in his dirty air. He's now racing at P4, after Inumaki lets him pass as per team orders.
“Oh my god, he's up with Gojo now." Inumaki's girlfriend squeaks, holding your hand with an iron grip,making you break out into a sweat two.
Gojo’s Ferrari and Yuta’s Merc go head on, battling each other, getting into each other's way. Gojo is as unpredictable as Yuta is ferocious.
The two of them swap positions a good four times until Yuta is able to zoom past him in a dramatic show, in one of the wider corners, right into the straights.
He's now P3. And the only competition he has in front of him are the red bulls.
“You're in podium position right now. Second place is ensured. Don't do anything stupid." The engineer warns Yuta.
The room doesn't hear back from Yuta for a while until all of you witness his aggressive drive turn to a more smooth one for the first time in over a year.
"Copy that. I've a promise to keep.”
The crowd, the crew, the engineers, the photographers, the journalists, the WAGs and you. All of you watch as time stills, Yuta moving like a stream of water, smooth and direct, inching close to Mahito's car. 
They enter the DRS zone and the Mercedes’ flap flips open to let in the air stream. 
Yuta slips to the side staying just a tad bit behind Mahito whose intent now seems to push Yuta off the track for good if he attacks. 
Mahito who was expecting and anticipating Yuta to fault, for him to aggressively move past keeps waiting as they keep driving on the straight with DRS on.
It isn't until Mahito keeps straight, too drowned in his confusion to notice Yuta speed up right as they turned into a corner. 
Without warning, right as the DRS zone ends Yuta hits the throttle and speeds out of Mahito's reach, making the crowd go crazy.
In that moment, everyone on the track and in the stands is rooting for Yuta. They are waiting with bated breathes as the last lap approaches and Yuta's car creeps closer to Geto’s Red Bull.
The engineers have nothing to say now, they too, watch on in awe.
Your hands clasp over your mouth, as you watch without blinking as they enter the last corners.
Call it luck.
Talent and hard work can take you very far. But the harder you work, the better your luck is. And in those final seconds, Yuta happened to have newer, more seasoned tyres compared to Geto's more worn ones owing to an earlier pit stop. Maybe your prayers worked.
And that was it for Red Bull.
Yuta pushes the car and rockets out of the corner, zooming towards the finish line as the checkered flag waves the declaration of victory for him. Leaving the red bull, the ferraris, everyone who ever doubted him in the dust of the track.
He pumps his fists out of the cockpit, screaming profanity into the radio.
“FUCKKK YESSSS!!!!" 
“LET'S GO BABY!!! LET'S FUCKING GOOO AAAAHHHH!!!" 
He pulls his car aside while the others pass and returns to the track to do some celebratory donuts with his car, the steam from his tyres enveloping the car.
It's like a festival in Mercedes' operations room. Everyone is hugging each, patting each others’ back, crying. Inumaki's girlfriend is mumbling to herself, still holding your hand.
And you?
You are in utter shock. Absolutely unable to form sentences.
One of the engineers has to shake you awake.
“Okkotsu has done it! He's done it! Not just that, Inumaki came in third! We've won both titles! Mercedes has done it!" 
"H-huh?” You choke out, tearing up.
"Don't you want to see him? He's coming in right now!” the team exclaims, crowding at the door, aching to get out and meet their winner.
Out in the paddock, the teams have arrived to welcome their hard-fought warriors. The various colors stand together in unison waiting beside the tracks, separated from the drivers by the chain fence.
You see a line of women waiting by, standing out from the teams thanks to their eye-catching, elegant attires. They looked like supermodels — tall, magazine cover beauties. They must be the WAGs. 
You suddenly feel very conscious about your sweater and jeans. Just a year ago, you too had the most exquisite outfit possible, completely ruined by Yuta on his Lambo.
The drivers show up one by one as the paddock welcomes them. There is an impressive cheer for the arrival of Gojo Satoru, P4. He winks at the WAGs as they appear totally distracted from their own racer boyfriends but he doesn't stay for long.
He meets up midway with a dejected looking Geto and takes him away to some place you can't quite see.
Looks like they want to have a talk.
If the cheer for Gojo was something, it's nothing compared to the deafening roar championship winner, Yuta receives as soon as his Mercedes pulls in.
He jumps out of the car, removes his gloves, helmet and fireproof and comes running straight towards your lot, jumping onto them as they screech, hoisting him up in the air and ferally rubbing his hair.
“Well done, boy!" 
“Well done!" They chant.
When they finally let go and you're able to see Yuta. You don't see any sign of the depressed ghost of a man you saw earlier. This was the Yuta you knew and loved. Happy, shining bright, eyes full of life.
He wipes the sweat of his forehead as he approaches you and grabs you by the waist to pick you up and twirl you around.
He presses his sweaty nose to yours, his dark eyes twinkling.
“We did it, baby. I kept my promise." He laughs between words. 
"Now then,” he smiles at me giddily, walking away from the team with me still in his arms.
"What did you want to say to me earlier?”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“Telling you just how much I love you will take more than a few minutes, Yuta." You kiss his nose.
“More than a few hot nights." You kiss his forehead.
“And more than a lifetime." You say, finally leaving a kiss on his lips.
“I love you, Okkotsu Yuta." 
You press your foreheads together, as a quick paparazzo clicks a picture of the two of you.
{{fin.}}
a/n: thank you everyone for reading! I was able to power through the chapters and put everything out quickly. Hope you guys enjoyed the tale of Racer Yuta!
----> BONUS<----
You hold the headboard of your bed for support as you grin down at a very engaged Yuta, lost in your juicy womanhood, holding onto your thighs for dear life as you sit on his face. His enthusiasm as he suckles and bites your sensitive zones drives you crazy and you come all over his face for what seems the tenth time in the past three days. He just refuses to let you go whenever he visits you in your city. You have to nearly always put in an extra sick day to cater to his and your needs. The two of you look out onto a bustling city from your high-rise condo. You wonder how many people know that a world-class, champion racing driver is eating your brains out right above their heads. The thought makes you giggle shamelessly.
"Yuta, stop, already." you urge him, laughing between words, pulling at his hair to get him to stop.
"Nope, I can't." he admits, looking up at you, with lust filled eyes. "I only get so many days with you. Need to make the most of this time."
You roll your eyes at him, getting off of him, making him whine loudly.
"Patience, lover-boy." you tease him, turning around to sit on his abs. His abdominal muscles are so well defined that even merely sitting on them sends chills up your wussy.
"Time to give my mini some love." you say, smiling at the bulge forming in Yuta's sweatpants. You uncover it to see his valiant dick stand tall, after being ignored by both you and Yuta for so long.
"It got prettier from last time." you pout at it, examining it as you stroke it with love. It pulls out the prettiest groans out of Yuta.
"Y/N, you saw it yesterday." he complains. "When you said you wanted to bounce on it."
"Well, Yuta. You can't just eat me out for all of eternity. Your dick has needs." you shut him up and take him in your mouth, savoring its thickness. It's just like the first time you ever took him in your mouth. You run and tongue up and down his length as Yuta grabs a hold of your ass, holding on till he's moaning.
You lick at his slit, playing around with the pre-cum he's leaking. His cock is so violent, it beats around inside of your mouth, and you silence it by pushing it to the back of your throat, where it sits snugly.
Your nose pushes into Yuta's balls as you let your throat do the rest of the work and soon enough, Yuta is coming inside your mouth with a monstrous groan, leaving you with plenty of fluid to play around with.
When you finally pull off, mouth full of cum, you see that there is still some life in his dick. You turn out to face him and now sit on his dick, grinding back and forth till he becomes hard again.
Your cheeks stay swollen with loads of his cum and Yuta stares at your face in disbelief.
"You really my cum don't you?"
and you nod fervently.
"Swallow it."
You shake your head.
"God, Y/N.." he closes his eyes, leaning back and letting you ride him, feeling his dick prod at your insides, its outline clearly showing through your abdomen.
"Ah..." he moans out, finding a rhythm he likes and the two of you roll your hips together. You want to moan out so bad but your cum sits in your mouth, marinating. You want to make a mess out of it on Yuta's abs and lick it all off.
How you've waited so long to do so many things to Yuta.
Only, your moment gets interrupted by a rogue phone call. From your phone.
"Buh, ish ma day ff!" you say, your mouth full and unable to speak coherently.
Yuta picks up the call and sticks it between his shoulder and an ear, while grabbing and controlling your hips with both his hands. His messy black hair falls on his sweaty forehead and his lashes brush his cheeks as he talks to the caller in his fucked out voice.
"Who's this?"
"Y/N, oh, she's busy."
"Are we fucking? Seriously, Satoru? Nunya business!"
Gojo Satoru!? The shock at his question makes you accidentally swallow the cum and you almost cry out.
"Uh-huh. Cool, bye." Yuta says, eyeing your reaction and closing his eyes.
"Oh no, I swallowed it!" you complain to Yuta and he's barely listening, chasing his orgasm. Soon enough, the grip on your waist tightens and he's coming inside of you this time. His neck stretching back and his adam's apple bobbing in his wide throat.
When he finally regains his composure, he looks back at you to reply.
"You swallowed. Finally! Good job!"
"Yuta!" you pout.
"Aw, baby..." Yuta teases you. "There's always room to do more." he sees, pinching your perky nipples.
"Your interns ask about you, Gojo told me. He takes them to races, VIP passes whenever he's free. He's made them into Ferrari fans, alas." Yuta tells you.
"Ahem. They were promoted to full time employees after the feedback from the Summit." you correct him. "Plus, they know I'm fucking you every chance I get. That's what I'm up to." you say, sliding off his dick and falling into his arms, allowing him to continue playing with your tender breasts.
"You're all packed up for this weekend's Monaco Grand Prix, right? We leave in two days." Yuta reminds you, biting your lower lip and bursting into a smile.
"Of course, I'm looking forward to it." you tell him. The two of you stare at each other, drowning in each other's passion until you realize something.
"Oops almost forgot. I love you, Yuta."
Yuta blushes pink when he hears it. "You say that every ten minutes."
"Isn't that what I told you..." you remind him.
"I'm saying it every day." You place a tender kiss on his lips.
"Forever."
137 notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 4 months
Note
i’m seated for some sneak peaks of things you have in the drafts hehe
here's a blurb for munch frat!peter:
'hand this card to the last person to eat pussy.'
tarrent has a gleam in his eye as he proudly pushes it into peter's chest. 'drink up, bro.'
you're not watching, the content of your cup is more interesting. but you're listening to see exactly how peter plays this one off because he hasn't even tried- let alone offered to go down on you.
peter hands the card back. 'nah, i don't do that.' he says it like it's a joke and his friends laugh with him, like he's too humble to accept the crown title of carpet muncher.
---
here's a blurb for hockey!peter fighting for his life over a jersey
'hey, can i have a kiss?' the audacity. you cross your arms again and look to the side, 'no.' peter frowns, you lean away when you feel his lips on your cheek.
'no? not even after i just won?'
'you didn't deserve it.' you grumble it from the side of your mouth, peter catches it and feels offended. 'don't get pouty and tell me i deserved to lose.'
you turn to him, your eyes screamed fire at him. 'don't humilate me and demand a kiss then.'
---
here's a blurb for cherry!peter who's doing the best he can to make cherry's sex dream come to life
'i've been so good, haven't i been so good for you?' peter can sense a little bit of a praise kink in you, it's fitting. 'you're always good for me. you're my good girl, aren't you?'
a whimper, it's so much better when it's real. 'i'm your good girl.' a harsh grind, you clutch peter's forearm while you throw your head back. 'yeah? that feels good?'
'call me your pretty baby.' peter doesn't know where the direction is coming from but he likes it. 'does my pretty baby feel good?' an audible moan, he's fucking perfect at this.
---
here's a blurb for bf!frat!peter with a girlfriend who should always come first
peter is totally saving you for last and you're about to go nuts on him. sure, there might be a line of people and sure, you might be the one in the least danger but you're owed some sort of urgency.
'hello?' you call it out, you sound impatient. 'spider-man?' you are impatient. you call for him again, he holds up a hand and you gasp. 'oh you little- spider-man, you better come help me right now or i swear to god i'll...' you have no real threat. 'just don't tempt me!'
peter doesn't come help you, he's still helping an older woman and you're about to throw yourself into a fire for some attention. 'excuse me? i'm looking for my boyfriend, have you seen him?'
---
here's a blurb from that blurb... you know... the one where peter has hooked up with trouble's friend?
if peter was a brat, he'd say that you're not supposed to be talking to him. instead, he extends his hand out and watches heavy footing beat up the staircase. the second his door slams, his best friend is asking what the fuck happened with his eyes.
'she's mad at me.' his door swings open, you shout down to him. 'i'm not mad! we're broken up!' another slam. ethan's expecting a lot more from peter than a shrug. 'no we're not.'
his door hits the wall, another scream, 'yes we are!' a third slam, this time, he's got two friends coming out of their rooms and glancing between his bedroom door and the lower level where peter had crossed arms.
'what's going-' peter flails his arms around, trying to stop the impending question and what he knows is all you need to give him a round two, but worse because now you're no longer in public.
a sheepish grin crosses over a brother's face when his door explodes open, peter thinks there might be a hole behind his door where the handle matches up perfectly.
---
here's a blurb where ethan walks in on sexy time :(
'liar! he saw me from behind!' you know he did, it was all on show. everything's ruined. peter's trying his best to be soothing. 'hey, even if he did, he won't say anything. it's ethan, you know ethan.'
you do. that's why it's so bad. the reminder makes you cry harder, peter connects the dots. 'oh jeez, trouble. here, come give me a hug.' it's a pathetic reach, you want nothing more than to be locked away in his hold, hidden and secret from the outside world.
'he-' you suck in air, curling in even closer to peter as if you weren't on his lap already. 'he saw me having sex.' you pull peter's arms tighter around you, it almost hurts it's so tight. it's what you need.
'i know, baby. i'm so sorry.' at least he's being honest.
'how much did he see?' peter doesn't know either, he was a little busy underneath you. he just knows the second he saw his door open, his instinct was to protect you.
'very little.' you feel kisses over your head, 'please stop crying.'
---
here's a blurb where nerdy!peter has no filter when he's drunk
'hi, honey.' you hold his arm tightly, 'don't lean over.' bending at the waist you reach for the keys, peter groans and shouts an exaggerated 'oh my god!'
you fly up, the metal tucked between your fingers. 'what?' you look around, peter's busy staring down your skirt while his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 'your ass is so nice.'
you suck in a deep breath and ignore the flush of warmth covering your chest. 'thank you, petey.' you ignore the slight shake in your hand when you shove the key in.
peter's door gets stuck a lot and you have to shove your shoulder into it a little. while you're doing your best to raid the door, a hand slides up the back of your thigh and gives you a tight squeeze. you jump and yelp, your hand reaching back to throw his off.
'peter!' he giggles and turns his head like you wouldn't be able to see him anymore. 'i just wanted to touch it a little.' peter's fingertips lightly drag up your thigh, you slap it away again. he giggles harder, the sound bubbles out of him.
'i'm trying to get us inside, leave my butt alone.' you have his promise, and you nudge the door a little, a sharp smack has you wipping around to face him. peter shoots his hands up, 'last one, i promise! that was the last one!'
142 notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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— and their name was treason
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SUMMARY : with the help of charlie, sam and Dean have become prolific con artists. but after losing his work, dean’s left wondering how do you con a con artist?
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester, charlie bradbury (mentioned), bela talbot
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), lazy writing, dirty talk, implied sub!dean my beloved, implications of sex
WORD COUNT : 2k
A/N : title from a day to remember. this one fills the con artist au square on my @jacklesversebingo card. the reader is inspired by the beautiful river song, lmao. i had big daydreams about this fic, they were as big as the inside of the tardis and now it’s only like the outside of the tardis 😔 xx
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“Dean,” Sam whispered over Dean’s shoulder, getting his attention off the flirty bartender for a few seconds. Dean's laugh slowly faded as he turned to look at his little brother instead of the woman who was making them their drinks. “Did you get the signatures?” 
Dean rolled his eyes.
“Sam, you’ve asked me that six times already,” he responded quietly and with irritation. He shook the metal case containing the signed forms. “Yes, I got the fucking signatures.” 
“I'm just making sure,” Sam lifted his hands with a playful smile, “I don’t wanna waste Charlie’s time when we give her the papers we got signed.” 
Dean squinted his eyes at him before he turned to smirk at the brown-haired woman when she placed his drink in front of him. Sam cleared his throat when she bit her lip and Dean blindly took his drink while licking his own.
Dean turned hesitantly to glare at his brother. 
Sam’s eyes went big and innocent. Dean sighed and hung his head low, caving in to the puppy-dog eyes he was prone to seeing more often than he liked when Sam wanted to get his way. 
“Okay, okay,” Dean gave a final, longing glance at the woman who was preparing drinks. She batted her lashes flirtatiously at him before turning around and swayed her hips sensually as she handed a drink she prepared to an old man across the bartop. Dean groaned internally at what could have been and memorised the curves of her body in her blue cocktail dress. “I’ll finish this drink and we’re outta here.”
Behind Dean, Sam walked away and murmured an “excuse me.” 
Dean turned with his drink in hand, about to tease his brother with an insult about him being lame, but instead he hit a much smaller, softer body with his own so his drink spilled over a beautifully red dress and soft skin. 
“Son of bitch!” Dean exclaimed under his breath, embarrassed and surprised. He fumbled with the glass and somehow caught the woman by her waist to balance her as she gasped. 
“I'm so sorry,” they said in unison and even laughed together sheepishly. 
Dean stared at her dumbly, captivated by her appearance. His eyes quickly moved from the top of her pretty head and down to the sexy black heels that told him she was a boss-lady. Dean’s stomach fluttered excitedly, only partially anxious. 
Sam snickered next to Dean.
Dean’s cheeks turned pink with a heat that spread to his ears. 
“I really should’a been more careful,” Dean apologised to her. She laughed again, dismissed his apology with a reassuring smile, and shook her head. Dean blindly shoved his glass into Sam’s chest and pulled out a handkerchief from inside his jacket for her to clean herself up. 
Dean ignored the quieted groan of annoyance from Sam, entirely focused on the flustered woman standing before him. 
He sent a charming smile her way and she bit her lip before she took the white cloth with a shy bow of her head in gratitude. Her painted nails brushed delicately across his calloused palm, but she looked away before she could see him become tense at her mere touch.
“I should’ve been more careful, too.” 
She wiped at her chest and her dress to soak up as much of the liquid as she could. Dean's eyes traced the movement of the cloth sliding across her cleavage. He cleared his throat to undo the sudden knot in his throat and blinked away the mesmerised expression on his face. 
“Dean, we should get going.” Sam’s words snapped Dean out of his daydream. Except Dean’s pathetic reaction to a beautiful woman cleaning herself was a reminder to him that he hadn’t blown off steam in months. 
Their workload has been a constant wave that was drowning him. 
One job where he has fun won’t do any harm to his, or Charlie’s, or Sam’s profit.
“Wait,” Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket and took a moment to think before handing the keys to Sam. Sam’s mouth dropped slightly. He scoffed, looked at Dean, then at the woman who was busy blinking at both of them—confused. “Why don’t you go, uh…?” Dean clicked his tongue, then smirked at Sam.
Sam snatched the keys from Dean and shook his head, instantly understanding the unsaid words of his big brother. He smiled after considering Dean for a few moments and sent a much more polite smile to the woman. 
“Whatever, dude,” Sam turned around to exit the bar. 
Dean’s stiff fingers loosened around the handle of the case he’d been carrying for most of the night. He’d completely forgotten about it and was pretty sure Sam left it up to him on purpose. He gripped it tightly before relaxing and facing the woman. 
She readily handed him his handkerchief, but he closed her small, cold hands around it with his own. She smiled at him, her brows rose, and she glanced down at his large hand around hers. Her lush lips opened to speak, but Dean interrupted her with a flirty smirk before she could say something first.
“I’m Dean.”
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From her quietness at the bar, Dean assumed she’d be shy to some extent.
When they entered the cab, she’d pointed out the metal case he was carrying out and questioned him about it—small talk. He answered honestly at first, it was for work, and then lied by saying he was a real estate agent.
She didn’t seem too interested in small talk because as soon as he answered, she pressed her soft lips against his. Her cool hand slid up his scruffy jaw and her fingers slipped into his short hair. 
His hands found her elbow and her waist. He could feel her other hand travelling down his chest, her nails gently raking against his green tie and his suit jacket. 
He tilted his head slightly, broke the kiss to breathe, and returned to her sweet mouth. His hands wandered upwards, one stopped at her jaw and the other clung to her soft dress in the back. His fingers carefully weaved through her hair, the soft strands rubbed against his fingertips. 
He could feel her tongue against his lips, arousingly tracing the shape of them. He moaned involuntarily at the wetness and warmth of her tongue and the way her small hand cupped his hardening cock through the flimsy cloth of his pants. 
He pulled away, flushed and feeling hotter than he was before. His heart was thudding loudly in his ears, banging against the bone door of his chest to escape into her hands—well, at least into her free hand which was caressing his cheekbone.
She was looking at him curiously through her curled lashes. 
He shamelessly laid his hand over hers and pressed down. She smirked and looked down to watch the way his hips rolled up into her hand. He watched her thighs press together tightly and imagined—instantly—all the things he wanted to do to her. 
She leaned forward and Dean’s lips parted slightly, ready for her kiss. His eyes pleaded for her to inch even closer, but she kissed his cheek instead. Fucking tease. 
“Are you going to touch me at all?” She whispered near his ear. The warmth of her breath made his skin prickle, followed almost simultaneously by a shiver through his body. 
Dean’s eyes flickered to the man driving the can. The man was clearly trying not to look too interested, and if he had a problem, he would’ve kicked them out. But something was just not sitting right with Dean, he didn’t look uncomfortable—and most people would be when facing a similar situation. 
“I just-I’m…” Part of Dean was flustered by the apparent audience and the other part of him was aroused by the way she rubbed and squeezed along his cock. The way he’d restlessly shifted allowed his length to move so she could feel all of him.
“Trying to be polite?” She completed his question, smiling knowingly. 
“Well, yeah,” he murmured and shrugged half-heartedly.
“That’s cute,” she hummed. Her mouth was back on his, taking his breath away and making him dizzy before he could get flustered under her intense gaze. She pulled away and he chased the high of her kiss. She dodged him and returned to his ear, where her breath tickled his sensitive skin. “But I don’t want you to be polite. I want to feel your fingers in my pussy and your lips on my tits.” 
Dean choked on needy whine and she kissed him hard for it. Her fingers were focused on the sensitive head of his cock over his dress pants and boxers. He managed to wrap his fingers around her hand to stop her from making him cum in his pants.
“I prefer to fuck you hard in bed and make you cum on my cock,” he mumbled against her lips. She pulled away to smirk at him, her wicked finger traced his lip, then her hand fell to his lap where she playfully brushed her fingers against his dick.
“Can’t say I hate that idea.”
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“Dean, Dean!” 
Dean woke with a jolt, his hand around the gun pointed into the darkness the instant he gained consciousness. His finger rested on the trigger, but he stopped himself upon recognising Sam’s dishevelled hair and unkempt clothes.
“Heh, you got laid, too?” Dean teased as he cuddled his pillow, feeling light and elated, naked beneath cool sheets. 
“Shut up,” Sam snapped. “Where is the case, Dean? Don’t tell me you left it over there at the bar!” Sam scolded, practically ripping around his shaggy hair when he buried his fingers into it anxiously. 
Dean's stomach fell. He froze, then relaxed and closed his eyes. “Left it by the table,” he mumbled.
“Dean,” Sam said through gritted teeth, “it’s not fucking there. I’ve looked everywhere. Who else was in here besides you and that girl from the bar?” Dean sobered up quickly, he knew Sam wasn’t going to miss a gigantic metal case in a tiny hotel room. 
He sat up and looked at the table where he’d left it, hoping Sam was still punishing him for choosing fun over work. Dean hastily picked up his pants from the floor and put them on as discreetly as he could.
The case wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere. 
He helped Sam tear the whole place apart and reassured his little brother that no one else besides the woman he slept with had been inside the room.
“Okay, well, unless she took it from you, we need to figure out who else came into your room. When did she leave?” 
Dean became flustered. 
“Dude, I don’t know. Okay?! I just… passed out. The sex was-” Dean suddenly smiled with a dreamy look in his eyes. “It was awesome. She did this thing where she-”
“I really don’t wanna hear it.” Sam grimaced and Dean snickered, but a blush still heated his face at the memory of her. Dean recomposed himself when Sam continued to look bitchy.
“Whatever. Look, we can always check the cameras.”
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“Bela,” you looked out the cab window, your phone pressed against your ear. 
“You’ve got something else for me?” Her voice was surprised— impressed, even.
“Met those Winchester boys,” you smiled to yourself. Your body still felt warm and sensitive in the places Dean had been. 
“And?” You had a feeling she rolled her eyes. 
“They conned drunk people at a bar,” you began, “I was watching them. They’re good. I don’t know why you hate them so much, they could make you loads of money.” Bela scoffed. “Anyway, I stole their work,” you added casually, tapping the cold metal case that rested against your thighs. “I bet these real estate papers are worth a lot.”
She was silent. You smirked. “How… how did you do that?”
You thought back to watching Dean stare longingly at the attractive brunette bartending once he’d finished scamming all those drunk, trust-funded idiots. Sam visibly killed the mood and forced Dean to leave the bar empty-handed— with nothing and no one to celebrate a job-well-done with.
You purposely bumped into him to find a way in and steal the “hard work” from him and his brother. His drink would spill on your dress, you had a feeling he’d get all dopey—and you were right. 
The plan was simple at first. But instead of knocking him out once you were both alone outside in order to steal the case, you went with him to his hotel room in a cab. You had sex with him because you thought he was pretty and you really needed some release—as much as or more than Dean, you imagined (from the way he made you cum four times). Then, you stole the case when he was dead asleep, did the walk of shame out of his room, and out of the hotel. 
Currently, you were in a cab that had suspicious stains, torn leather seats, and a crusty floor. 
“Disgracefully.”
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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hotvintagepoll · 6 months
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Propaganda
Maude Fealy (King Rene’s Daughter, David Copperfield)—She served cunt all the time
Anna May Wong (The Thief of Bagdad, Shanghai Express)—Wong was the first Chinese American movie star, arguably the first Asian woman to make it big in American films. Though the racism of the time often forced her into stereotypical roles, awarded Asian leading roles to white actors in yellowface, and prohibited on-screen romance between actors of different races, she delivered powerful and memorable performances. When Hollywood bigotry got to be too much, she made movies in Europe. Wong was intellectually curious, a fashion icon, and a strong advocate for authentic Asian representation in cinema. And, notably for the purposes of this tournament, absolutely gorgeous.
This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Maude Fealy propaganda:
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Anna May Wong propaganda:
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"She so so gorgeous!! Due to Hollywood racism she was pretty limited in the roles she got to play but even despite that she’s so captivating and deserves to be known as a leading lady in her own right!! When she’s on screen in Shanghai Express I can’t look away, which is saying something because Marlene Dietrich is also in that film."
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"SHE IS ON THE BACK OF QUARTERS also she was very smart and able to speak multiple languages and is a fashion icon on top of the acting/singing"
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"Paved the way for Asian American actresses AND TOTAL HOTTIE!!! She broke boundaries and made it her mission to smash stereotypes of Asian women in western film (at the time, they were either protrayed them as delicate and demure or scheming and evil). In 1951, she made history with her television show The Gallery of Madame Liu-Tsong, the first-ever U.S. television show starring an Asian-American series lead (paraphrased from Wikipedia). Also, never married and rumor has it that she had an affair with Marlene Dietrich. We love a Controversial Queen!"
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"She's got that Silent Era smoulder™ that I think transcends the very stereotypical roles in which she was typically cast. Also looks very hot smouldering opposite Marlene Dietrich in "Shanghai Express"; there's kiss energy there."
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"Hot as hell and chronically overlooked in her time, she's truly phenomenal and absolutely stunning"
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"A story of stardom unavoidably marred by Hollywood racism; Wong's early-career hype was significantly derailed by the higher-up's reluctance to have an Asian lead, and things only got worse when the Hayes code came down and she suddenly *couldn't* be shown kissing a white man--even if that white man was in yellowface. After being shoved into the Dragon Lady role one too many times, she took her career to other continents for many years. Still, she came back to America eventually, being more selective in her roles, speaking out against Asian stereotypes, and in the midst of all of this finding the time to be awarded both the title of "World's Best Dressed Woman" by Mayfair Mannequin Society of New York and an honorary doctorate by Peking University."
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"Incredible beauty, incredible actress, incredible story."
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"-flapper fashion ICON. look up her fits please <3 -rumors of lesbianism due to her Close Friendships with marlene dietrich & cecil cunningham, among others -leveraged her star power to criticize the racist depictions of Chinese and Asian characters in Hollywood, as well as raise money and popular support for China & Chinese refugees in the 1930s and 40s. -face card REFUSED to decline"
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140 notes · View notes
msbigredmachine · 1 year
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Hoochie Daddy (Jey Uso/OC)
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How many of these shorts does he have? And how quickly can she take them off him? Jey Uso/OC gym one-shot.
Warnings: SMUT
Word count: 4.7k
A/N: I believe @southerngirl41​ is the reason for this title, lol. Let me know what you think!
All Jey gifs by @annoyedkayah2395
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The gym in the basement of Jey Uso’s house was something straight out of the Creed movies. The floor, walls, and ceilings were solid concrete, the old school decor contrasting with the state of the art equipment within its walls. The speaker system on the far wall blasted the late great DMX as you laid waste to the punching bag in the corner. The straining of your muscles and the aching of your joints felt good. It was helping a lot with clearing your head, given the rather stressful events of the past couple of months. 
Though not directly involved yourself, you had experienced the strife within the Bloodline through your boyfriend. From Sami’s betrayal at the Royal Rumble, to Roman’s rage, Jey boycotting the shows for weeks, the uncertainty coming to a head at Wrestlemania with the twins losing the Tag Team titles to Sami and Kevin. Hit hard by the defeat, Jey reacted by keeping his distance from the group once again. He avoided everyone’s phone calls, and you happily played gatekeeper, screening his calls and keeping the doors locked from all intruders. If Jey didn’t want to communicate with anyone, then so be it. You loved his family like they were your own, but his peace of mind always came first. Always.
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Which is why you let him sleep in while you came down here to beat the shit out of this damn bag. He’d gone to bed early last night and you wanted sex, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to wake him up and disturb his rest. This morning, you had to physically stop yourself from mounting him and riding him well into the afternoon. He looked so good lying there next to you, butt naked with his new chest tattoo just begging for your oral attention. That man made you horny at a moment's notice and it would have been infuriating if you weren’t already completely in love with the way he made you feel. 
So, you decided an early morning exercise would help you out with your frustrations. You learned that working out brought you to a state of erotic readiness. There was a power and excitement about exerting your entire body that amplified your arousal. It also helped that you were dating a man that shared your philosophy. Exercise energized you and Jey. The changes you’d experienced sexually in the past year were testament to this. As a couple you had transitioned from traditional sex to something so much more erotic and spiritual. Your relationship thrived as a result, and for the first time in years, you were happy.
"You’re stronger. But you gon’ hurt yourself if you don't relax your shoulders," a familiar gruff voice warned from the doorway of the gym.
You turned towards your boyfriend, locking eyes with him from across the room. You nodded at his barely clothed frame. “And you’re gonna have a yeast infection if you keep wearin’ them tight ass hoochie daddy shorts,” you shot back.
He burst into a chuckle as he glanced down at his yellow shorts, smiling that breathtaking smile of his. “You got jokes, huh?” he said, pushing off the door frame. As he approached you, his dark eyes raked over the light sprinkling of freckles over your beautiful face. He knew how many there were and could locate each one with his eyes closed. Your frizzy jet black hairstyle and crafted eyebrows made your eyes pop. And though they were hidden, he couldn’t help but drool over the outline of your nipple piercings through your thin, long sleeved Nike crop top.
You picked up your bottle of water. “How long have you been standing there watching me like a creep?” 
“Long enough. You know I can watch you all day, baby. You sexy as hell,” he winked, giving you a sweet kiss before swatting your backside. "How long you been in here?” 
"About an hour. Did some cardio first. I was horny and you were asleep.”
“Sorry ‘bout that, babe. I’ll make it up to you later.”
“I wanna fuck you now,” you pouted like a child, “Do you know how much willpower it took to not jump your bones this morning?” 
“I do. And I applaud your restraint. Usually, you can’t resist me,” he bragged.
“So damn arrogant.”
“Luh you too, boo,” he chuckled. Adjusting the Snapback around his head, he moved to the free weight area of the room. You noticed him fiddling with his phone, and rolled your eyes when he placed it in a strategic vantage point. Another IG story in the works; another day of women coming online to comment and thirst over his beautiful body. Just great. 
You stared as he pulled himself over the high bar and back down in flawless repetitions. The transformation of his body over the last year was goals, and you were inspired. However, with said transformation came the sudden need to wear only the teeniest tightest outfits to the gym, and now he had these little shorts in every color imaginable; pink, green, yellow, black, literally the Power Ranger collection of bikini shorts, with the hem just a few inches below his backside and showing off the extensive leg tattoos and the fullness of the groin that belonged to you. The material bunched up in that area as he slowly lowered himself back to the ground. Sweat glistened on his body, coursing down his defined contours, and you felt an animalistic urge to go right up to him and lick off every drop...
“Like what you see, baby?” His deep voice interrupted your dirty thoughts. Forcing your gaze back up, you saw his smirk, expressing his amusement at the heat in your eyes.
“You know I do. I’ve lost all my concentration thanks to them little ass shorts.”
“Concentrate on something else, then,” he insisted, empowered by how flustered he made you.
“I can’t. That ass is calling my name,” you whined, “You got your Daddy’s booty, I’ve told you this before.”
Jey groaned audibly. “Girl, leave my Daddy outta this!”
The side of your lips quirked, showing off the tiny dimple in your cheek that drove Jey crazy. “But it’s true. Jimmy got Kish’s face, you got his ass.”
The former tag champ burst out laughing. His girl was as crazy as she was beautiful. “You are unbelievable.”
“I know, Daddy.”
Not Daddy. Damn. His gaze followed your ample backside as you walked away, and involuntarily, his tongue darted out over his lips. Forcing himself to refocus, he settled down on the weight bench and picked up the weights he set out to train with.
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The two of you worked out in comfortable silence, shooting furtive glances when the other wasn't looking. As he laid back on the bench, you ogled his dick print, his grunts of exertion causing you to bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together where you stood. Noting his attention was solely on the dumbbells, you sensed the opportunity passing you by. 
Fuck it. 
“Your video still on?” you asked, going over to him.
“No, why?”
You gave no answer, but proceeded to flop down directly onto his groin, smirking at his startled grunt. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head but you didn't care. Making yourself comfortable on his lap, you started slowly, grinding your ass on his cock, feeling him harden almost instantly through the thin barrier of your clothing.
“What are you doing?” Jey demanded, scrambling to sit upright. You looked over your shoulder at him with a devilish grin, noticing the struggle in his eyes. 
“I told you…I want some dick...I want what’s mine,” you let him know, opening your legs a little wider to grind on him. With a steady roll of your hips, you moaned and whimpered at the feeling of the wetness pooling in your loins. You let his groans wash over you as you rocked you back and forth on him, bumping your ass against his abs repeatedly. 
“Fuck, baby,” he hissed.
“Yeah, Daddy, you like that?" you taunted him, looking back at him as you rode him reverse cowgirl. "Come out here looking like that and expect me not to jump you, huh?"
Jey did not know where to put his hands. You had him all discombobulated from your little ambush. He settled for the curls of your hair, tugging your head to the side to allow his lips and tongue attack your sweaty neck. This motivated you to arch your back and roll your ass more harshly, his hand in your hair making you look back at it. You knew how good you were making him feel as he shifted multiple times to make your ass stroke his dick through his shorts. His hungry eyes watched you dry hump the shit out of him, his eyebrows pinched together in total arousal. 
“Aww fuck, keep goin’,” he moaned, grabbing your gyrating backside, purposely flexing his thigh muscles to give you more friction. His husky praise encouraged you to pick up the pace. Your hips rolled diligently, your hands braced on his knees for leverage, thoroughly enjoying the sounds tumbling from his mouth. It was sweaty, it was hot, and from the way your pussy rippled, it was about to get even hotter.
Then, from out of nowhere, you stopped and stood up.
“And that’s my workout done for the day,” you announced, stepping away from him.
Jey could not keep his jaw from dropping in shock. “The fuck? Babe!” he exclaimed with wide eyes.
You casually adjusted your clothes and ignored the prominent tent in his shorts. “Yep. Pelvic thrusts. Great for mobility,” you explained, fighting the urge to laugh. He looked so frustrated, it was hilarious.
The Samoan squared his shoulders and glared at you. “Damn dick tease. I’ma get you for that, ya hear me?” he threatened.
“I hope so.” For a long moment, you regarded him, talking to him without saying a word. You were checking on him, hoping he was okay. Jey’s expression softened in understanding, and he grabbed your hand and pressed his lips to your inner wrist. The feeling of his mouth gently pressed to your skin made your stomach clench with a sweet mix of affection and need.
“See you upstairs, baby. I’ll be right up, a’ight?” he prodded gently, his eyes shining with gratitude. 
You nodded. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now go, before I bend your fine ass over my lap.” He burst out laughing as your eyes lit up at the prospect. “Go!”
“Fine.” Blowing him a kiss, you left the room before he could change his mind and carry out his dastardly threat. Like he did a couple of weeks ago, when he locked you inside the laundry room and proceeded to fuck you for an hour. In eight different positions. All while getting the laundry done. Good Lord. Could you do that again, actually?
Buying a jetted jacuzzi tub big enough for two, was one of the best decisions you and Jey had ever made, expense be damned. It was one of your favorite things about the whole house, your place of Zen and tranquility after a long day. You ensured the water was adequately seasoned with Epsom salts and eucalyptus mints among others. Turning off the hot water, you stripped off, tucked your hair into a shower cap, and lowered yourself carefully into the tub. You leaned back and closed your eyes with a deep sigh, allowing the quiet to take over the ambience. You could feel your pores opening instantly, absorbing the mint and the steam, making you feel much more relaxed.
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The sound of shoes being noisily kicked off forced your eyes open, landing on the handsome Samoan culprit grinning cheekily at you.
“That looks nice,” he commented.
“It feels amazing,” you concurred, crooking your finger at him. "C'mere, Daddy. Come join me."
Like he would ever turn down such an offer. He peeled off the t-shirt that stuck to his sweaty skin, followed by his so-called hoochie daddy shorts. He blushed at the way your eyes glossed over with desire as they raked over his body. He would never stop enjoying the way you looked at him. He descended into the tub on the opposite side, allowing his legs to entwine with yours underneath the water. Once he was seated, he exhaled loudly, leaning back and closing his eyes like you did.
“Your mind’s a mile away from here,” you spoke up after a few minutes of observing him in silence. “Come back to me, baby. Talk to me.”
Jey turned his head toward the window, staring dully at the bright sky outside. When he spoke, the pain in his voice hurt your soul. 
“Tell me how I let all of this shit happen,” he whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing, man. Staying in the Bloodline to protect Jimmy. I thought I had everything under control. Until I got in that ring on Saturday night. It shoulda been just another match for me. But one look at Sami and all I saw was red. I let my emotions get the best of me. Now we’ve lost the fucking titles.” He paused, dragging a hand down his face. “The crazy part is, I believe Sami. I know he’s right about everything. Everything he warned me about is happenin’ now. Baby I just don’t know what to do.”
He looked over at you, and your heartstrings tugged at the helplessness you saw in his eyes, something you realized you’d been seeing too often lately. It was taking a toll on the usually confident, self-assured man you knew and loved. It was no secret that your boyfriend was under the Tribal Chief’s thumb, with no true will of his own. You had your own opinions on everything that was happening and you had told Jey that much, but it was ultimately up to him to do what he needed to do. 
Pushing away from your end of the tub, you waded in between his spread legs, resting your back against his chest. You always seemed to fit so perfectly against him. His arms instantly came around you, feeding off your warmth, your aura, your quiet strength that he so desperately needed.
“You’re not happy, Jey,” you assessed. “I wish you didn’t second-guess yourself so much, because your instincts are almost always right. You need to act on them again. I want you to do what’s best for you. Nobody else. Not Sami, not your brothers, not your cousin…not even me. Look out for Jey Uso this time. Just this once. And as always, whatever you decide, I got your back one hundred percent.”
Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel him absorbing your advice, letting your words swirl around in his head. You only hoped this meant that his misery would come to an end sooner rather than later. Exhaling heavily, he reclined again, stretching one arm across the top of the tub’s ceramic surface and holding onto you with the other.
“After this shit is over, I owe you a vacation,” he spoke. “Just you and me, far away from here.”
“Ooh, yes I’m down for that,” you nodded eagerly.
“Yeah. I definitely owe you a ring, too.”
“A ring?” Your brows furrowed in confusion at first, and then it hit you. Your head angled up to meet his eyes. “Mr. Ucey Jucey, are you proposing to me?”
Jey shrugged. “I told you I’ma marry you one day, lil’ mama. I ain’t changed my mind,” he said.
“You sure you’re ready for my craziness on a full-time basis?”
“That’s what I love about you the most, baby. I ain’t letting nobody else have you, that’s for damn sure.”
“Hmm. So you’re possessive,” you interrogated.
“I just know a good thing when I see it,” he stated, gazing deep into your eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ain’t letting it go, not even with my last breath.”
“And I’m not letting you go either,” you smiled, leaning into him, “You’re all mine, my big bad hoochie daddy.”
“Stop,” he warned, licking his lips.
“Stop what?”
“Calling me that.”
You raised your eyebrow. “Make me.”
Jey's amused expression instantly became serious, and he swallowed hard as his eyes dilated. It was always a thrill for you, challenging his control, anticipating what he would do to you afterwards. Just as that thought crossed your mind, you felt his right hand glide slowly down your body.
“What are you doing?” you asked, your words dissolving into a gasp when he squeezed your right breast.
“Finishing what you started.”
Your breath hitched when his hand continued its journey down south and slipped between your thighs. Instinctively you opened them, letting him play with your pussy using the tips of his long fingers. "Oh fuck," you gasped, your head tilting back when they breached your folds, going in deep. Licking your lips, you moaned and then grunted as he scissored his fingers back and forth inside you. “Oh god, Jey, yes…”
His lips swept the length of your neck, your little moans music to his ears. "You like that, mama? Like my fingers deep in you?"
You tried to respond, but the words evaporated as he dug deeper into your pussy. You spread your legs wider in the water, letting him work you at the pace he wanted. His mouth suckled your throat, and a blissful sigh sang from inside your heaving chest, your body awash with heat as his fingers probed you. 
“Daddy…”
“Yeah, say my name, baby.”
It was as though he’d cast a spell on you, the urgency with which you needed him inside you, on you, all over you. Holding the back of your head steady with his other hand, he leaned down and covered your lips with his. Your fingers raked through the wetness of his mullet fade, moving your lips greedily against his as he sped up the movements of his fingers. 
“Mmm, these lips were made for kissing me,” he murmured dreamily, and his soft words turned you to mush. Your mouth remained on his even as you rotated your body, unwilling to release him for even the few seconds it took to turn around. You climbed onto his lap and sat on him. His hands immediately sought the curve of your ass, squeezing in large handfuls. Your pierced, erect nipples pressed against his chest, delightfully rising and sinking like two round buoys in the sea. His groin felt hot against yours, just like it did in the gym. As he guided you down his length, you quickly grabbed the edge of the tub to keep from slipping. You both gasped from the familiar joy of your bodies joining, with every inch of Jey’s thick length sliding all the way inside you.
Jey didn't think he had ever felt you so tight, yet so slick and easy to penetrate. He watched you closely as you rocked your hips slowly, carefully, making sure you had all of him. You lifted your knees and wrapped your legs around his hips, your heels pressing against his lower back and prompting Jey to sit up and hug you tight. The tilt of his cock as you rolled your hips forward brought out another groan from you both. You rode him at a variety of paces, watching the pleasure wash over his face with each change. He lifted one hand to toy with your nipple, his palm squeezing your breast as you moaned in response. You paused for a second to adjust yourself on top of him, then switched up your movements, rising and falling, your pussy gripping his length tightly with every drop and dragging a hiss from his lips. You rode him good, rode him hard, your wanton gasps of pleasure echoing around the bathroom. Jey’s bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he kneaded and massaged your ass, then gripping hard as he took control, working you on his dick. 
“Fuck, yes, yes!” you groaned into his neck as he steered you on his pole, his fingers digging into your hip bones as he grinded you onto him, increasing the stimulation on your clit. Then, he was lifting you up and down, bouncing you with a desperation that turned you on even more. Words failed you at this point, reduced to a panting, moaning mess. You were dizzy from pleasure, almost at the edge of release. The water splashing around you went ignored in the throes of passion, with him growling against your throat as you whimpered in his arms.
Jey’s grip on your waist was vice-like as he bounced you harder, chasing his own release. It felt like you were cracking in two from the scorching heat you and Jey had created. You didn’t try to tamp down your moans as you came. It was sweet and ferocious and ravaging all at once, ushering Jey himself past the point of control as he spurted generously inside you. His deep, raspy groan broke you all over again, and you let the ripples plunge you into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer force of his. When it was over, you were both spent and trembling in the water, breathing raggedly, clinging to each other for dear life. Jey dropped a kiss to your forehead and then your nose, the gesture warm and tender.
“Damn, Daddy,” you moaned, earning a proud grin from him.
"Ay, you wanted dick, you got it. You're welcome," he said matter-of-factly, carefully lifting you off his cock and helping you out of the water.
“So arrogant.”
“Luh you too, boo.”
After draining the tub, the two of you made your way into the shower for a proper cleansing. You ended up in there for much longer than usual thanks to your make-out session beneath the cascading water while soaping each other up. There was something so sexy about him pinning you to the wall as you kissed, your wet bodies pressed together, the little sensual noises of pleasure you both made while he gripped and massaged your ass cheeks. As you left the shower, he maneuvered you towards the sink, facing the mirror. You hissed softly as the cold surface contrasted erotically with the heat of your man's body on your back, and you braced your hands on the bathroom countertop. He started kissing your neck, his hand shifting upwards so he could caress your breasts. You watched him in the mirror, your pussy moistening further at the sexy sight.
As he continued to nuzzle your throat, you flexed your spine, pressing your ass into his groin, and was rewarded by the sharp breath he sucked in. Relieving you of your shower cap, he swept your curly hair into his fist and pressed another kiss to your throat, meeting your eyes through the mirror.
“I love the way you look at me, like you want me,” he whispered.
“I do want you. I want you every day of my life. I’ll always want you, Jey,” you vowed. The look he gave you in response was so purely masculine, so primal, visibly turned on by your declaration.
"That’s my girl. Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he instructed, kissing your cheek, “Let me show you what I see every time we fuck."
Swallowing hard, you watched his head drop, and gasped as his fingers slipped unexpectedly between your legs, gathering your juices. You could hear the wet sound of his hand stroking his dick, and you longed to turn around and look, to watch him spread your essence all over himself. His husky groan as he lined his dick up with your entrance made your pussy flutter. Catching your eye in the mirror, he smirked at your impatient expression and smacked your backside for your troubles.
"Don’t worry, you gon’ get every inch, baby, all of it, it’s yours," he promised. With no further preamble, he bent you over, used your hips to pull you up onto your tiptoes, and entered you from behind. Your sharp gasp filled the bathroom as your walls stretched to accommodate his length and girth, your body almost doubling over in the process. His eyes remained on yours through the mirror as he slowly started to thrust in and out of you, reveling in the pleasure washing over your features. 
A string of moans left your lips as his cock speared you over and over, his tattooed arm around your waist to hold you steady. Your breasts jutted forward as your spine arched back, both of you transfixed by the reflection in the mirror, both of you extremely turned on, panting with the sheer eroticism of watching yourselves have sex.
"Baby, you feel so good," you groaned, bending over slightly as he thrust deeper into you. His long fingers threaded through your hair, and he used it to roughly pull you back up, almost to a standing position. Both of you were panting, moaning, the scent of sex heavy in the air, the sounds of your flesh pounding together ringing in your ears.
Dropping a wet kiss to your neck, he growled in your ear as he stared you down through the mirror. "Look at us, baby. Look how fucking good we look together."
You did look good, especially with him inside you. Together, your joined reflection looked good. You were an amazing pair, you and the man of your wildest dreams. You spread your legs further and rocked onto the balls of your feet, bringing him deeper into you, your breasts bouncing in time to his fierce thrusts, his hand still in your hair to hold you in place. He was insatiable for you, and you for him. 
"Shit, baby, your pussy is so good. You’re takin’ Daddy’s dick so well," he rasped.
His glassy eyes and barely contained groans told you he was close to coming. A naughty idea came to your mind, and you brought your hand down to touch yourself, moaning when your fingers slipped easily over the slick wetness you found there. Jey's eyes darkened in the mirror as he watched you, his hand in your hair tightening reflexively as you started stroking rapidly, right over where his dick made that sweet connection with your pussy.
Being the showman that he was, Jey loved himself a good show. And you found that you quite liked putting on a show for your man.
You could feel your body start to heat up, your swollen clit protruding against your fingers at the same time he deep-stroked your wetness. As you watched him in the mirror, you could see and feel the tension building inside him, matching yours, your naked bodies starting to tremble from the climbing pleasure. 
“Daddy, I’m gonna come,” you whined. Those four words seemed to set him off. His movements became wilder, rougher, mounting to a rising crescendo. He had you literally on the tips of your toes, at the very edge of euphoria, finally falling over when his teeth sank into your shoulder.
“Jey!”
You exploded. Releasing one more time all over his dick. Jey was right behind you, pumping hard inside you once, twice, and groaning into your shoulder as he came. His body shuddered against yours, your orgasms seemingly pulsing through both of you together. Gripping your hips tight, he moaned again, rolling his pelvis against your thick, juicy backside to drain every drop of his cum into your warm, intoxicating pussy. You purred softly with satisfaction and rested your head on his shoulder, letting him envelop you in those strong arms of his as your bodies calmed down.
Jey slowly pulled out of you, his eyes flickering to your stance; naked, bent over with your legs splayed, with his seed trickling down your inner thighs. So fucking hot. He turned you back to him, a small smile on his face when you tiptoed up to kiss his lips and play with his hair.
“So…what else are we doin’ today?” he asked you.
“We might need another shower,” you giggled, rubbing his back, “Also, I want you to make me breakfast wearing one of them tiny shorts,” you added. “You’re gonna wear them all day and nothing else.”
“That what you want, baby?”
“Yeah, and for me and my eyes only. No videos,” you quickly added the caveat.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he quipped, laughing when you smacked his arm.
“I said what I said. I think your beloved IG fangirls have seen enough for today,” you pouted.
He chuckled at your little riot act and pecked your pouty lips. “Fine. Anything for you, pretty girl.”
“Thanks, Hoochie Daddy. Love you.”
Jey could only sigh and shake his head with a big smile. He wouldn’t have your cheeky self any other way. “Love you, too, lil’ mama.”
THE END.
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I’m on a roll with Jey rn. But I’ll 100% go back to my Tribal Chief soon. This one didn’t have too much drama, but I hope you liked it, still.
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