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annie115 · 1 month

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The right rhythm (LN4 x Dancer!Reader)

Summary: Lando joined his friends to a dance off and couldn´t keep his eyes off one particular dancer..

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

A/n: I´m currently in love with watching dance off´s on Youtube so this is just a blurb idea I had :) Let me know if you like it! :)

To the rhythm

It was race week in Silverstone, UK. The drivers were already at the track on Wednesday, since Thursday´s were usually media days. It was lunch time and some of the drivers were having lunch together. Charles took a bite of his chicken ceasar salad before looking up. “Alex do you have your PlayStation with you? We could play Fifa or something tonight, all together”, he suggested and George and Lando excitingly agreed. Alex shook his head. “I have it with me but me and Lily are going to London this afternoon”, he answered and Lando frowned. “London? It´s like three hours away what do you want there?” he asked and Lily, Alex girlfriend, scoffed. “Oh my god! Lando you don’t know?” she asked playfully disappointed which made Lando frown even more. Lily chuckled.

“World of the dances takes place in London tonight. It´s the final of my favourite dance show and my favourite dance crew happens to be there. I´m so excited!” Her eyes were glowing from happiness. Alex wasn’t so excited but he would of course join his girlfriend. “Hey, why don’t you come with us?” he asked the group. Charles, Lando and George looked at each other. Finally, Charles spoke up. “I don’t know, we don’t even have tickets. And I´ve never been to a dance show.” “It´s so fun! Really, it´s such a vibe you just have to experience it once! And I´m sure there are still tickets available”, Lily interrupted him. “Also, a friend of mine dances there so I´m sure I can get more tickets anyway.” Alex smiled, he would like the guys to come with him. “You know what? I´m in”, Lando suddenly said and smiled. “I´ve also never been to this kind of thing but I suppose it´s fun”. The others agreed and so a few hours later they made their way to the English capital.

Since George took Carmen with him they drove to London with two cars. Charles´ Ferrari and Alex Mercedes. The drive was fun, the drivers enjoyed to spend time together besides from racing. When they arrived the location where the show should take place they stunned. A lot of people were gathering around the arena and Lando raised an eyebrow. “I´m sorry but I would have never thought that so many people are interested in dancing”, he said and Lily laughed. “Lando, what exactly do you think this is? Like what kind of dance?” she asked and Lando thought about it. “Isn´t it like pair dance?” he asked and Lily burst out in laughter. Alex chuckled and shook his head slightly. “Mate, it´s hip hop and breakdancing. It´s pretty cool, really”, he said and Lando blushed.

The show was about to begin and the drivers were sitting in the front row, thanks to Lily´s connection. Suddenly, everything went dark and the crowd started cheering. All in all, it was extremely loud in the arena, since the fans were screaming and yelling. Lily said that’s normal because the fans were just celebrating and supporting their favourite crews. After a host was saying a few words he introduced the first crew of the night. How Lily explained earlier, every crew can show three dance choreographies, one only with girls, one only with guys and a mixed one.

When her favourite crew came on stage, Lily cheered loudly. Six girls were arriving on stage with big smiles when they heard the crowd. They stood in a formation and started dancing, when the music started. They were dancing to the song “Little Girl Gone” by Chinchilla. They were pretty good, everybody thought so but Lando couldn’t keep his eyes away from one girl in particular. The way she moved her body to the beat and smiled when the drop hit. The way she sometimes sang along, her long brown ponytail was waving to her moves. All girls were wearing wide black sweatpants and white crop tops, with a black jacket. Lando couldn’t stop staring at her. Her body was perfect, he thought. She was not very tall, maybe 5 feet 2. Her boobs had the perfect size and her ass.. juicy and big just like he loved it. Lando swallowed dryly when his brain started to imagine things which weren’t appropriate, since he didn’t even know her. But the way she moved and smiled into the crowd made him feel as if he would’ve never not known her. He didn’t notice how Charles looked to him, smirking like an idiot.

When the dance was over, the girls saluted and smirked before disappearing from stage. Lando swallowed again and grabbed Charles water bottle to take a sip. “Don’t look at me like that” he said and Charles chuckled. The next dances were also incredibly good, but not one could compare to the girls dance.

The last dance was announced and it was the one from Lily´s favourite dance crew, now with every member. About 30 people were entering the stage and Lando was looking for his girl, but he couldn’t spot her.

They were dancing to a mash up, a mix from various songs. When the song “Naughty Girl” from Beyonce came on, his girl was in front again, with a guy. The song was remixed and they were dancing along, moving their bodies to the beat. Lando didn’t like the guy, of course not. He didn’t understand what was going on with him, he didn’t even know her name but he already felt overly possessive.

The choreography was incredible and everybody stood up, applauding and cheering. It was pretty sure that they´ve won the final and they were hugging each other.

After the show, Lily turned to the boys. “I´d like to say hello to my friend backstage, care to join me?” Charles clapped his hand on Lando´s back. “Of course we do!” he said and laughed while Lando was rolling his eyes. They made their way through a hallway to get behind the stage, where Lily screamed when she saw her friend. To Lando´s disappointment it wasn’t his girl. “You were amazing!!!” Lily screamed and hugged her tightly. They were chatting about this and that, when the dancer looked at the drivers. “It´s so nice to meet you all! Oh my god, my friend is in love with Formula One, I will get her so she can meet you if that’s okay?” she asked and the drivers nodded. “Yeah, sure. Bring her over”, Charles said and smiled, also hoping it was the girl Lando liked. He knew that he had a rough time with girls in the past, he would be happy for him if he met her, especially since he had been so fond of her during the show. Charles had to hide his grin when Lily´s friend came back with exactly that brown haired girl Lando watched on stage.

Lando couldn’t stop looking at her. Her face and her blue eyes were glowing and she blushed a little when she stood in front of the drivers. “Guys, this is y/n”, Lily´s friend introduced her and she smiled. “It´s so nice to meet you, really. I´ve been a Formula One fan since I can remember”, y/n said and Lando´s heart skipped a beat.

Her voice sounded exactly like he imagined it. Sweet but not too high pitched. Y/n looked at the drivers and stopped at Lando, simply because his ocean blue eyes were locked with hers. He quickly ran his hand through his hair and smiled. Everybody around noticed the tension and Lily and her friend chuckled. “Hey, we always go to a pub and have dinner after a show, why don´t you guys join us?” she suddenly said and y/n smiled big. Everybody agreed and the dancers left to change their outfits and to freshen up a little.

“So, Lando. She´s cute huh?” Lily asked and smirked while Lando pressed his lips together. “Yeah”, he stated and blushed a little. “Mate, I´ve never seen you that smitten over somebody. We´ll make sure you sit next to each other”, George laughed.

Just a bit later they were all gathered around a round table in a corner of a pub, ordering some fries, hamburgers and drinks. As promised, the guys managed to have Lando sat down next to y/n who smiled at him. She always thought that he was incredibly good looking and now that she met him she noticed that he was even more adorable. His curls screamed for her attention but she guessed it would be a bit weird to just ask him if she could touch his hair. Everybody was involved in talks so Lando turned to her. “So, when did you start dancing? You were incredible on stage today”, he said and smiled shily. Y/n blushed a little and smiled. “I started when I was twelve, so I´m doing it for like 12 years now. I´m 24”, she said and he smiled. “´99 girlie hm?” he laughed and she chuckled, nodding.

They continued with the small talk and everybody around the table could see the sparks flying between the two of them. “Have you ever been to a race?” Lando asked eventually and y/n shook her head, disappointed. “No, I haven’t. I already wanted to come to the one in Silverstone but the tickets are honestly so expensive-“ she stopped talking, embarrassed of that she just admitted to not have enough money to afford a Grand Prix ticket. Lando tilted his head a little when she blushed. He smiled lightly and took her hand in his. “I think that the tickets are way too expensive, y/n. So you don’t need to be ashamed of not being able to afford it. I actually think most people can´t.” She nodded slowly. “How about I take you to the paddock this weekend?” he asked and smirked, showing her his little gap between his teeth. She had to chuckle and her eyes started to shine again. “Really? I would love that! I mean only if it´s no problem of course”, she said and he laughed. “It would be my pleasure.”

Saturday came and y/n made her way to the paddock entrance. She arrived in Silverstone yesterday and Lily got her the pass so that she wouldn’t have a problem to get in. Lando was already waiting for her and pulled her into a warm hug. “I´m so glad you came”, he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “I can´t believe I´m finally here”, y/n said with a big smile. She followed Lando to his garage, stayed there while he absolved his last practice session. She was so excited when Qualifying started and even more when Lando got fastest lap in Q1. She jumped off her chair and cheered, a few faces looking at her, smiling. It´s been a while since Lando brought a girl to the garage and they were happy seeing him so happy. During the short break between Q1 and Q2 Lando hopped out of the car to head to y/n. “Oh my god, Lan you were flying!” she cheered and he smiled big. “Be my lucky charm for the next round okay?” he asked with a wink before he disappeared again. Y/n couldn’t stop smiling, the butterflies flying around in her stomach. Lando drove out of the garage and managed to be fastest in Q2 again, due to some issues Red Bull and Ferrari seemed to face.

Before Q3 started, a mechanic came up to y/n with a headset. “He wanted you to wear that, so you can hear him in the car”, he said and her eyes widened. She took the headset and put it over her ears. “Be ready for me taking Pole, honey”, Lando whispered and she immediately turned into a tomato, a few engineers around her chuckling from his words.

Y/n bit her nails while Lando was flying over the track, being faster than anybody else. Unfortunately, Max Verstappen was also on a very good lap. This was a matter of a few thousands of a second. Max crossed the finish line, beaming himself up on Pole Position but Lando just turned into the last corner. “Come on, come on!” y/n whispered excitedly and again jumped off when Lando crossed the finish line and put his name on the top of the grid list. “Yes!!!” she yelled and hopped up and down. Lando´s car got pulled into the garage and he stood up, quickly removing his helmet and his balaclava. His eyes were searching for her but she already was storming towards him. “You made it!!” she screamed and hugged him in stormy embrace. He put her face between his hands and smirked. “You really are my lucky charm, hm?” he asked before he pressed his lips on hers.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #formula one imagine #formula one #dancing #dancer reader #ln4 x reader

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ashonheavenscloud · 2 years

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Beautiful || Bang Chan

Beautiful || Bang Chan for kinktober

🔞CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT! MINORS DNI!🔞

warnings: dom!chan/sub!fem!reader, praise, breast play, teasing, mirror kink, fingering, back-to-chest, ice play!!

word count: 3.2K

🎧: beautiful - hyunjin’s unreleased song that i am DESPERATE to be released😩

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Your apartment had never been as beautiful as it was tonight.

Candles flickered from their place on table tops, the coffee table, and one even hung from the ceiling in a glass jar, held up by a metal hook. The stand up mirror in the corner of the living room had been strung with fairy lights, and the curtains had been drawn shut. You’d dimmed the lights, set the table with a pretty green tablecloth and even brought out the seasoned wine you’d been waiting on for a while now, waiting for the right occasion. Beside each glass stood cups of ice cold water and sprigs of mint and lemon- you were pulling all the stops out tonight.

And Chan, your fiance, coming home from his business trip after nearly three weeks away from home, seemed celebration enough.

Your heart was in your throat, nerves dancing like a swarm of butterflies in your chest. There wasn’t a word to explain how much you’d missed him. He filled your life in every aspect- his touch, his words, his smile- and you couldn’t believe you’d lasted almost a full month without his presence beside you. Phone calls and video chats had been as frequent as possible, but they weren’t at all the same as him actually being here.

But tonight, you wouldn’t be seeing him through a screen and hearing his voice through a speaker. He’d be back home, back to you, in… you checked your phone for the time: 8:24 pm.

Any minute now.

He’d called half an hour ago to let you know that his flight had landed safely and he would catch a taxi home. You’d immediately set to work, prepping food to go in the oven later, decorating the place, and making sure you were wearing one of his oversized shirts. You knew he loved when you wore his clothes.

Your plan for the night was relatively simple- a nice meal of chicken stir-fry and store bought egg rolls, where you could catch up on the missed time, you would watch your favourite show (and hopefully pay attention to none of it), which would of course lead to a heavy make-out session, complete with sex and cuddling in bed. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep next to him again.

The stage was set. Everything was ready.

And as soon as Chan stepped through the door, it all fell apart.

You weren’t even granted a moment to speak before he’d dropped his suitcase on the ground, rushed to you and kissed you, hand slipping around the back of your neck to pull you to him, tilting your head just the right way to have your body tingling. You couldn’t help but sigh, relaxing into the kiss, threading a hand through his hair before he pulled back, a smile bright on his face.

“Oh my god, I missed you.” He whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, like he was touching a piece of art. The action made you want to scream. Somehow, the space between had made him ten thousand times more beautiful in your eyes now that he was back. You took in his messy curls half hidden with a beanie, the jeans and plain black shirt that dressed his body, the faint stubble on his cheeks, often the result of busy weeks. Every bit of him was gorgeous.

“Me, too.” You whispered, playing with his curls, appreciating the feeling of them between your fingers after so long. Out of all the things you’d missed during Chan’s trip away, it was this closeness, this intimacy, that had been missed the most. Feeling him, feeling connected to him. You wanted nothing right now more than to kiss him and feel him, the boy you’d missed like he was a very part of your body, and extension of your heart.

It was almost like he could read your mind- his lips were back on yours, and dinner and your show and a follow-up of cuddles and the entire plan was tossed out the window. You couldn’t focus on anything but the enthusiasm of his kiss, at the desperation in it. Clearly, you hadn’t been the only one missing and craving touch.

“Miss me that much?” You giggled against his lips, and the way he looked back at you gave you wild butterflies.

“Every day.” He whispered, kissing you again, and mumbling against your lips. “You have no clue how much.”

His kisses quickly turned feverish, as his body guided you back, sitting you on the arm of the couch. Your hands found their way through his locks, the beanie slipping to the floor as you pressed him closer to you, making him grunt into the kiss, hands on the back of your neck. “God-”

His lips slipped to your jawline, snappy kisses heating up your body. His fingers slipped between your shoulder and your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your head in one swift movement. Your body tingled as his eyes roamed your skin, hands wasting no time to discard your bra and move to fondle your breasts. He cupped them and squeezed, releasing to enjoy the way they bounced. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he played with them, leaning in to capture one of the buds between his teeth. The wet feeling of his tongue on your nipple was divine, your head tipping back as you bit your lip to hold back a moan.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty and perfect.” He groaned, teasing the nipple further. You whined, toes curling, body writhing at the intensity of the feeling. He chuckled, hands finding your hips to keep you in place for him as he slowly sucked.

Your eyes rolled shut, swirls of pleasure tingling through your body and finding their way to your clenching core, desperate for his touch inside of you. You made that clear by winding your legs around Chan’s midsection, pleased to feel the boner under his pants. You palmed it over the fabric, rewarded with a buck of his hips and a harsh groan as he released your nipple.

“I…” his eyes raised to yours, heavy and dark. “I’m afraid I have to ruin your plans for the night.”

“Please,” you wound your arms around his neck, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “Be my guest.”

Without another word, Chan picked you up, arms securely under your ass- and then he was kissing you again, no less needy than before. You softly moaned into the kiss, addicted to the warmth of his body against your skin. You couldn’t wait for him to be even closer, and it seemed like Chan had the same opinion. He didn’t waste time discarding his jeans and shirt and finding a spot on the couch, hands gripping your waist as you straddled his hips and pressed against his chest.

From here the kiss turned into pure heat. Sloppy and open mouthed, while Chan’s hands slipped up to tease your nipples with harsh rubs. Your legs closed tighter around his thighs at the heat spreading to the pit of your tummy, making Chan grin as he subtly lifted his hips, letting you feel the hard boner straining against his boxers and staining them with precum.

“Shit,” You moaned, with a small laugh. “You’re going to drive me insane one day.”

He flashed you a cheeky grin, before leaning forward and kissing each of your breasts gently. Then he pulled back, eyes glancing around the room.

“You really went all out.” He whispered, eyes sparkling in the dim light. You smiled shyly, but he didn’t seem to notice, eyes fixed on something else that had caught his attention.

After a few seconds, he blinked, and turned back to you. A slow smile crept up his lips, and then he hovered over you, slipping kisses up and down your shoulder.

“I know exactly what to do with you tonight.”

His sultry tone threw your mind into a spiral and had you clenching around nothing. All your attention latched onto him, the rumble of his voice, the glint in his dark eyes. “W-what?”

His smile was almost devilish as he kissed your lips, dragging at your bottom lip when he pulled away. “Let me make you feel good.” He whispered.

His lips descended on your skin, kissing down your chest, over your breasts and down to your navel. In the meantime, his hands undressed you, discarding your shorts and panties, spreading you wide for him. You shivered as the cold air greeted you, and for some reason, that seemed to make Chan grin.

“Cold?”

“Not for long.” You responded cheekily, and Chan giggled.

“Oh?”

His mouth trailed back up your body and connected with your lips. His one hand rushed to thread through your hair and pull you close, the roughness of his touch making you softly moan into his mouth, greeted by the poke of his tongue as he messily kissed you. Your hands quickly began to tug at his locks, hips subconsciously grinding against his right thigh desperately for friction against your aching, tight core.

Chan grunted when a particular grind came in contact with his girth, and pulled away, eyes locked on yours. His voice was low when he told you, “Turn around.”

Heart thrumming with excitement, you did what you were told as Chan discarded his boxers and you settled back on his lap, back pressed to his chest, ass resting over his hard dick. The feeling made your core clench around nothing.

Chan’s mouth found your shoulder, sucking on the skin and leaving a sting with each blooming red mark. You groaned at the feeling, head lolling against his shoulder. At this Chan shook his head, one hand coming up to grip your chin and make you face forward.

“Look,” he said, and that’s when you noticed the mirror; lit up with fairy lights, and perfectly angled to hold your image in the glass. You looked like a mess, but even more so- even hotter- so did Chan. His curls were wild on his head, toned body already slightly sweaty, lips red from kissing you. You watched almost trancelike as Chan slipped a hand under your breast and squeezed, while the other found its way between your legs to spread them out.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He whispered, lustful eyes meeting yours in the reflection, as he leaned down to place a slow wet kiss to the crook of your neck. You shivered at the touch, the need in your sex nearly unbearable by now.

“Fuck, Chan-”

He didn’t respond, simply sliding his fingers between your folds, the feel of his fingers like electricity. You inhaled sharply, curling into Chan, who grinned.

“You must have really missed me, considering how fucking soaked you are.” He teased, leaning forward to take your earlobe in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive spot. You whined, impatient, but Chan was always a good multitasker. His thumb rubbed between your slit, finding your clit and gently pinching it between his fingers. You hissed, writhing, and his other hand moved down to hold your hips in place.

“Stay still, baby.” He murmured, and you obeyed as his hand dipped further, and he eased his first finger into your pulsing core.

Your eyes watched in the mirror as your pussy swallowed him desperately, and the image made your skin burn at how filthy it all was, how absolutely dirty the two of you looked already. Chan’s eyes stayed fixed on you in the reflection while he slowly began a pace, pleasuring your body with every rub of his finger against your slick walls. You struggled to keep your head up, small moans bubbling up your throat as his other hand slipped back up to palm your nipples.

“Good girl.” He whispered, eyes never leaving yours as he slowly leaned forward and languidly mouthed and sucked at your neck, pace rapidly speeding up. Your moans came out broken as he added another two fingers in one go, curling his fingers just so. You whimpered at the feeling, heatwaves rushing through your body and straight to your core.

“Feel good, babygirl?”

“Yes, god-” you broke off into a moan when his thumb started to rub on your clit. “Perfect.”

Chan offered a slow, wet kiss to your shoulder before pulling his fingers out completely. You whined at the sudden emptiness, catching his gaze in the mirror. “C-chan-”

Wordlessly, he reached beside the couch, and you watched with a frown as he grabbed one of the glasses of water resting on the side table. You watched with uncertainty as he reached into the glass to pick out a cube of ice, about the size of a marble.

Instantly you knew what was about to happen- this wasn’t your first time with ice play. Your core jolted at the anticipation, as Chan brought the glassy piece of ice to rub it over your inner thigh. The cold was shocking to your system, and you jerked, hastily gripping at Chan’s wrist. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, grinning. “Relax, baby.” He whispered, cooing.

Your breaths came out shaky, wild excitement pulsing through your body as Chan rubbed circles over your thighs with the frigid cube of ice. With every swirl, he brought the piece of ice closer and closer to your throbbing core, clenching needily. And then at last, he slipped it between your folds, making you gasp at the cold. Chan’s lips were attached to your body again, slipping to the other shoulder to kiss and tongue over the skin; but his eyes- his fucking eyes- never left yours in the mirror, as he pressed the ice further, deeper, entering your hole.

And god, it was glorious.

The freezing sensation was overwhelming, but the slick wetness of the cube soothed and pleasured your walls in ways that had your eyes glazing over, mindless whines tumbling from your lips. Chan paused his movements, as the ice simply sat there, melting in your pussy, trickling slowly out- and it was agonizing, how little and how much it gave you at the same time, as you tossed your head back, moaning. “Chan, fuck-”

“I know, my love.” He gently kissed your jawline, voice gravelly and quiet. “Feels good, doesn’t it, beautiful?”

“Fuck, fuck yes-” You groaned, squirming, but Chan’s hands quickly gripped your waist to keep you still.

“I got you,” he whispered, and his fingers were back, slipping into you to join the mess, and beginning a slow rub inside your hole. His other hand grabbed onto your thigh, spreading you further, stretching you further for him.

You clenched around him when he dug in deeper, vaguely grinding into the motion as his thumb found your clit again, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re my good girl, letting me play with you, aren’t you?” Chan practically growled, his fingers scissoring you quickly, and you could barely speak, the knot in your stomach beginning to clench painfully. Your head tilted back further, eyes flickering, mouth wide open.

“I- I-”

“Eyes on me, beautiful.” Chan whispered, sinking his fingers in deeper, the cold of the ice cube shocking your g-spot, making your walls clench around him. You moaned softly, struggling to lift your head to meet Chan’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes were glazed over as he stared back at you, absolutely love drunk.

“God, I missed ruining you like this.” He half groaned, lips finding the crook of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he began a slow pace, digging his fingers further with every push. As the ice melted, cold water continued to trickle out your entrance in slow rivers, the sensation almost overwhelmingly pleasant, making your eyes roll back. Your breaths were heavy. Your body was burning, heat crawling over every inch of your skin despite the freezing cold of the ice inside you. The addictive feeling paired with his slick fingers pumping into you, his mouth sucking at the junction of your jaw, and his cock hard under your ass had the knot tightening in your stomach already.

“You’re so good for me.” Chan whispered, his other hand moving to rub at your clit, sending shockwaves through your body as you squirmed and whined, digging your hips down to chase the pleasure they granted. Your hands gripped his thighs shakily as he chuckled, sucking at your skin, moving two fingers in a circular motion over your clit.

You stuttered out a moan, head lolling back, sparks of heat rushing through your veins. “G-god, Chan-”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“D-don’t stop.” You pleaded, eyes squeezed shut, mind spinning with pleasure. Chan’s response was to giggle, and peck your cheek, before moving to whisper in your ear.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

His fingers curled in just the right way, pressing the ice against your g-spot, making you gasp and whimper. “M-more.”

“Such a greedy little thing.” He teased, but he removed his fingers and with effort, found a comfortable position to slip his length in from behind. The angle was perfect though, and you saw stars as he pushed into you, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out. His pace was quickly set, steady and firm, causing you to choke on moans with every roll of his hips. Cold water still seeped from your pussy, and Chan hissed at the icy feeling on his cock, which twitched and pulsed inside you. “Fuck.”

His pace sped up, and you met him halfway, desperately chasing your oncoming high. One arm wrapped around to hold your chin in place, forcing you to watch every moment of your desperate, feral sex. Chan’s eyes were particularly wild, and in the end his gaze on yours was what made you come hard, vision going white as your walls clenched around him and you moaned long and loud.

Chan continued to rut up into you, grip on your chin never loosening, his other hand moving to tightly grip your waist. “Such a good pussy, my good girl-”

You moaned, his hips beginning to stutter and lose their tempo. At last he came, spilling into you and milking his release for a moment before he stilled completely.

You made to move off of him, but both of his arms wound tightly around you, keeping you to his chest. Chan softly kissed your back several times, whispering in between each one, “Let’s stay here for a bit. Please. I just want to feel you. I missed you so goddamn much.”

You instantly melted, resting tiredly against his chest as he continued to kiss along your skin softly, taking you in. Your hands reached back to play with his curls absentmindedly, and he sighed, resting his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, and you thought you might never get used to him saying that.

Or slowly whispering it back.

#stray kids #skz #skz smut #starryychankinktober #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #skz chan smut #stray kids chan smut #chan smut #stray kids imagine #skz chan #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction

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lixiebokie · 3 months

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dancing through our house

hyunjin x fem!reader

hyunjin comes home earlier and decides to plan a nice dinner, it doesn’t go as planned but it all works out in the end.

genre: established relationship, she pronouns

note: i cried while writing this

the smell of burning was apparent from the moment she’d walked into the apartment. quickly kicking off her shoes, to find out where the smell was from. hyunjin must have forgotten to turn something off before leaving for practice. nothing was smoking but poor hyunjin was spotted on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor scrubbing his heart away.

“hyun?” he turned his head over his shoulder, scurrying to his feet and standing in a greeting way.

he brushed off his nice suit and placed his hands in front of him while straightening his back.

“i didn’t think you’d be home so earlier.” he looked behind him. moving quickly around the kitchen once again collecting things that had been left about.

it was a mess; dishes filling the sink, hyunjins dirty clothes tossed to the side of the washing basket, some burnt meal ontop of the stove and the split substance hyunjin had been violently trying to get off the marble flooring. he reached on the counter top handing her a rose while his arms were full of the now useless cutlery.

“what’s this?” she asked taking the flower. hyunjin dropped the tools into the sink with the rest. she watched noticing the sauce smeared all over the arm of his nice new suit.

“oh for fuck sake.” hyunjin huffed taking a paper towel and tried to dab it away but it had already starting setting in.

she reached for the tissue to help him. “jin calm down.” she laughed.

“im sorry, i just wanted to do something nice. but the food i got burnt because i thought it said 2 hours but it said 20 minutes. and the stupid stupid sauce got all over your new floor,” he pointed down were she took a step back to avoid standing in the bubbly red stain. “and im sweaty and tired now and you came home before i could reshower or finish-“ he stopped when she reached up and softly kissed his cheek.

“you’re so cute.”

“what?”

“you think this impresses me?” hyunjin blinked in confusion at her.

she laughed placing the tissue down and reaching up to his neck. “jinnie when have you ever seen me eat fancy chicken?” she gestured to the burnt mess over her shoulder. “or drink expensive champagne?” he looked over to the other side of the kitchen where the bottle of champagne had been popped but split all over the counter. “so you don’t like the suit?”

“the suit is gorgeous.” she ran her hands over his neck down to his chest. “but you face is telling me it doesn’t feel as pretty as it looks.”

“oh thank god.” he pulled his jacket off in one movement and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt.

“erm careful that looks expensive!”

“it’s fine it’s versace. they’ll send me a new one next week.”

she laughed as hyunjin dramatically sighed swaying his arms around to cool down.

“you know what does impress me?” he titled his head to the side.

“your cute little face.” she squished his cheeks in which he grabbed her hands and dodged her from doing it again. “but seriously hyun never think you’re cooking again.” she deadpanned.

“actually i think i have something you may like..” she looked at hyunjins mischievous smile as he moved into the living making sure she followed behind him.

the room looked normal which confused her. hyunjin walked up to the couch grabbing the remote and turning it back on. it had been playing some playlist on spotify, one he had created. “you made a playlist?”

“for us.” he smiled dropping the controller back onto the seat before moving closer to her once again.

“seriously?” she looked at all the classic love songs he’d added from his favourite films and songs they had built special connections with.

she didn’t believe it. out of all the things he’d planned for tonight, this had to be the most romantic thing. a stupid spotify playlist.

“can i have this dance m’lady?” he propped his hand out waiting for her to take it.

“never call me that again.” she laughed taking it as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “okay love.”

her other hand landed back onto his broad shoulder shoulder stroking up and down. some cheesy love song playing as he starting guiding her around the room.

he was a professional dancer of course he was going to be flawless with ball dancing, even in a sweat fill suit. he moved her around letting go of her hip as he attempted to spin her without getting tangled together. she could no longer smell the burning from the kitchen, or feel the sticky residue on hyunjins suit just him. she could only see him, feel him. just the purple haired man in front her focusing on not muddling up his feet under pressure.

“you know, you’re a pretty romantic man.” she sighed as the song came to a finish and another started to play.

hyunjin didn’t let her go in fact pulling her closer so there faces were close enough to touch. “really?”

she hummed looking up at his beautiful. “i really love you.”

“what?”

hyunjin looked mortified as he realised the words that had slipped out his mouth. she smiled big leaning up to his kiss his lips lightly. “you’re so cute.”

“are you not going to say it back?” he pouted and she groaned.

“i love you too hyunjin.”

🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷

#Spotify #straykids #skz #hwang hyunjin #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scernios #hyunjin smut #hyunjin soft hours #hyunjin drabbles

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katiexpunk · 5 months

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Heeeey guurll... 🖤🖤this was actually a dream I had a while ago, that have 'haunted' me since...

Here goed: Joel and reader in a established relationship,Joel has fucked up and needs to say sorry, and how does a man from Texas,say sorry well,this guy cooks for his woman, and while doing it he wears nothing but a cowboy hat, boots an an apron.

Reader has been to work, now returing home, as she enters some sappy country song starts playing, and out of the kitchen comes Joel in his get up and dances for reader and sadly thats where my dream ended,or atleast what I remembered of it

Hope you can use this...I tried to turn it into a fic, but I rubbish at writing.🖤

The Kind of Love We Make | Drabble | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count 1.7K

Authors Note: @darkheartgatita, thanks for sending this ask in. This was such a fun little fluffy drabble to write. Lord have mercy, we all need a little sweet Joel in our lives. I took a few creative liberties with this one. I hope you enjoy it.xx

No major warnings for this one. Just a lot of love and illusions to smut.

Joel's eyes widen as he glances at the date on his phone, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Your anniversary. How could he have forgotten? He feels a knot tighten in his stomach, a block of lead dragging him down to the depth of the ocean. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

Frantically, he looks around his office, or what he considers an office – it’s just a construction trailer covered in building plans and sawdust – as he tries to come up with a plan of how he’ll make it up to you. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, it’s just that life has gotten in the way, and this time, it’s overshadowed a crucial date.

His heart sinks as he thinks back to this morning when he had acted like it was any normal day. He had gotten up before you, made you a cup of coffee, and handed it to you with a kiss on your cheek like he always does. He remembers thinking about how cute you look in the morning, no makeup, your hair a mess, clad in only underwear and his shirt. He went off to the gym like usual; muttering something along the lines of “have a good day, babe,” not bothering to add happy anniversary, or I love you so much, no…anything. He curses himself for his stupidity.

Feeling guilty, he decides to channel his Texan charm and show you just how sorry he is. He checks his watch and decides to dip out of work a few hours early to race to a nearby H-E-B, nothing but determined to make things right.

He forms a plan in his mind on the drive there, one that involves a skill he hasn’t used in a while – cooking. He used to cook for you all the time, but with life being the way it is these days, you both mostly rely on takeout or quick meals. He thinks back to when you first started dating and he made you Marry Me Chicken. “Aren’t the women supposed to make this for the men?” you teased, “wanna marry me that bad already, huh, Miller?”

He didn’t admit it to you then, given it was only your fourth date, but he did want to marry you. He knew you were the one he was going to end up spending his forever with practically after your first date, he didn’t need chicken to confirm it.

And here you both are, years later, happily married – right?

His heart lurches when he remembers how good he used to be to you, how much effort he used to put into seeing you smile.

He makes a vow to get back to that, starting with tonight.

++++

As he strolls through the aisles, he carefully selects ingredients for the special dinner he has planned. He picks up fresh vegetables, but no broccoli because he knows you hate it, “devil trees” you call them; a prime cut of steak, all the necessary spices, and a bottle of red. And fuck it, you aren’t much of a flower girl, but he decides to throw a dozen roses into the mix, deciding if he’s going to gravel, he’s going to do it right.

Loading the groceries into his truck, his phone vibrates and your picture flashes on the screen. He picks it up, being sure to to call you baby in his greeting. Your conversation is brief, mostly just the normal, when will you be home, what do you want for dinner, etc., but he can tell from the tone in your voice that something is wrong. Normally, he would ask, but in this case, he already knows. He knows it’s his goddamn fault.

He had successfully resisted the urge to apologize on the phone, to beg you for your forgiveness, to confess his sins like a teenager in a chapel with the priest; forgive me, for I have sinned.

No, instead he decides that the surprise he has planned for you tonight will make it all worth it.

It has to.

++++

At home, Joel puts on his favorite country music playlist, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Clad in only jeans and an apron, a gift from you on a previous anniversary, as he gets to work in the kitchen. His hands move confidently as he chops vegetables, marinates the steak, and prepares a homemade peppercorn sauce that he hopes will make up for his forgetfulness.

As the kitchen fills with an aroma that could make even a Q-tip drool, Joel takes a moment to reflect on your relationship. He thinks about all the wonderful moments you’ve shared over the years, the sound of your sweet laugh, and hell, even the challenges. The guilt he feels only fuels his determination to make this anniversary memorable, despite the initial oversight.

With everything nearly ready, Joel sets the table with care. He lights your favorite candle, the warmth of it casting a soft glow over the dining room. He goes up to your shared bedroom and changes into a nice dress shirt, and takes a deep breath, rehearsing the apology speech he’s crafted in his mind as he does up the final button. He’s in the middle of giving himself a pep talk in the mirror when he hears the familiar sound of your keys in the lock.

You open the door and to your surprise, Joel is standing only feet away from the entrance, dressed up, cowboy hat and all, holding a dozen roses. Your heart nearly jumps out of its chest. He remembered.

As you enter, you notice the dining room table set in the distance and the soft sounds of The Kind of Love We Make by Luke Combs playing softly throughout the house.

“Cmere baby girl,” he coos, his voice soft and thick like caramel, his arms open wide to welcome you into them.

“Joel,” you say, your voice a little broken and your eyes glassy. As you step forward, his broad arms wrap around you, and you melt faster than butter on a hot skillet.

"I know I've been wrapped up in work lately," he says, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back, "and I'm sorry if it seemed like I forgot. I wanted to make it up to you, to remind you how much you mean to me,” he says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, being sure to savor the subtle scent of your shampoo.

You wrap your arms around his thick core tighter, and he holds you against him. He feels safe and warm, like home.

“You did all of this for us?” you ask.

He nods, his soft brown eyes filled with sincerity. "I wanted tonight to be special. I've missed us, and I wanted to show you just how much you matter to me.”

You look up at him, tears now pooling in the corners of your eyes, a warmth filling your chest at his honesty. He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at; a one-of-a-kind painting handcrafted just for him. His hand finds your cheek, and the pad of his thumb smears a tear that has spilled over into your skin.

“God, I am such a lucky fucking man. Even when you’re cryin’ you’re beautiful,” he whispers to you. Your world stops, a moment frozen in time, just as it always does when he looks at you like this.

He takes a step back, extending his hand to you, "Care for a dance, sweetheart?" You laugh softly, the tension of the day lifting. You wipe the extra tears from your cheek as you mutter, "Absolutely.”

You place your hand in his, and he leads you in an impromptu dance in the foyer, one hand on your waist, the other wrapped around your palm, holding you close to his firm chest. He holds you like he’ll never let you fall. You’ve always known that; he’s just that type of guy, but right now you know it couldn’t be more true. You gaze up at him as you both sway, hips pressed together, the country song that plays on is the perfect soundtrack to your evening.

We've been burnin' both ends Keepin' the lights on So I've been thinkin' we need A little time alone

Joel twirls you, and you both sway, feeling a renewed sense of connection. He holds you against him, tight enough for you to feel a hardness pressing back against you.

Let's get some candles burnin' And some records turnin' All the lights down low Take it nice and slow The way your body's movin' Keep doin' what you're doin' To me all night long Writin' our love song Girl, I want it, gotta have it Let the passion take us to a higher place Makin' the kind of love we make

Your hand slips to cup the thick outline of him in his pants, and he lets out a groan. His large palm finds the zipper of your dress, and not before long it’s a mess of fabric around your hips.

“My girl is so fucking perfect,” he whispers in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick your lobe. “God damn, I’m such a lucky man,” his lips find yours in a heated kiss, one that leaves you wet and desperate for him. His lips pull away from you momentarily, and his pupils tell you everything you need to know. “You gonna let me show you just how sorry I am?” he asks, nipping at your neck.

“Mhmm” is all you manage to mutter, your head fuzzy from your arousal. He licks a swipe up the valley of your breasts before rising to full height and pulling you towards the steps.

You’re halfway up the steps when you ask, your voice giddy and a little breathless, “Joel, what about dinner? You worked so hard.”

“Nothin’ wrong with a little dessert first, baby.”

END

As a kind reminder, my DM's are open for asks!xx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal

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snorky · 8 months

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Like A Lazy Ocean Hugs The Shore, Hold Me Close, Sway Me More

Hey y’all! It’s been a while since I last wrote something, and I apologize. I’ve been busy with school and my personal life, so this story took me a while to write. Thank you all for your patience! I hope you all enjoy this small, domestic, fluffy story about Jamie Drysdale! The title is based off of “Sway” by Michael Buble, which is a lovely song. Once again, I hope you all enjoy it!

Pairing: Jamie Drysdale x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None

—

On a cold winter afternoon, the smell of warm, hearty, homemade-from-scratch chicken noodle soup filled the air. A golden glow illuminated the stovetop and kitchen area, allowing something mundane as cooking to feel magical. Outside the window, it was already dark, the sun having set about an hour ago, making it seem much more dream-like.

Music softly flowed through the kitchen, sweet melodies dancing in the air along with her. She spun and twirled around, keeping an eye out and making sure not to burn the food, and sang along proudly to the lyrics. Knowing that Jamie wouldn’t be home for a while, she wanted to surprise him with his favorite food for their anniversary since it fell on a day when he had an away game.

Unbeknownst to her, Jamie stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living area, watching her dance happily to the music. He had arrived home a little earlier than he had planned, and so on his way home, he picked up her favorite bouquet of flowers. His smile grew on his face as he saw her dancing, his heart falling in love with her more with every second.

As he shuffled into the kitchen slowly, the paper wrapping made a noise behind his back, alerting her of his presence. He hoped that she hadn’t heard him over the loud music that was playing, but as she stopped dancing and turned to face him, he knew that she had spotted him.

“Oh, shoot.” She snapped back into reality and looked at him directly, the both of them looking like deer caught in headlights. The music was still playing in the background, making the situation slightly humorous. “Hi sweets,” she said awkwardly, wondering how long he had been watching her.

“Hi honey.” He smiled. “I got you flowers. Oh, and it smells amazing here. And I love you so much,” Jamie rambled. He pulled out the flowers from behind him and showed them to her, a smile lighting up on her face.

She laughed softly at his sweet comments and gestures and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “I love you too, Jamie. Happy early anniversary,” she smiled as she kissed him sweetly.

He blushed as he handed her the bouquet of flowers, all delicately wrapped in brown wrapping paper, making the petals stand out against it. As she grabbed it, she admired how beautiful it was, and how Jamie paid attention to each small detail of the bouquet.

She set the bouquet down on the counter, and turned to kiss him again. He kissed her back, the smile still on his face as he blushed. Wrapping his arms around her, he swayed her gently, holding her close to his body.

Hearing the soft music that gently played in the kitchen, an idea sparked in his head. He pulled away from her slightly, making her turn her head up to him in confusion. “May I have this dance?” Jamie asked, his cheeks turning rosy.

She nodded, the smile returning to her face, “Yes please.”

He gently placed his arm around her waist, and clasped his other hand with hers. They swayed slowly to the music around the kitchen area, their movements gentle and soft. The warm, golden light of the kitchen transformed the area into a fairytale environment.

Gazing at her lovingly, he admired her beauty. He loved the way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something. He loved the way her lips smiled when she felt happy. He loved her laugh when he made a joke, whether it was actually funny or not. He loved every bit of her, truly and fully.

And she did the same, gazing at his soft facial features that she adored so much. She loved his gentle eyes that saw the best in her. She loved his soft lips that only spoke lovingly about her. She loved his freckled cheeks that she constantly peppered kisses all over. She loved everything about him, every detail and quirk.

They both continued to dance around the kitchen, enjoying each other’s presence, the feeling of love swirling around them. The soft music continued to play in the background, humming through the air. He held her hand and twirled her around gracefully, causing the both of them to laugh together.

Jamie pulled her in close, hugging her tightly while they both continued to laugh. “I adore you so much, my love.” He gently kissed her lips.

“And I adore you too Jamie, my sweet dear,” she said softly.

Leaning in towards him, she left soft, gentle kisses all over his face, making him blush madly as he chuckled. “You’re sweeter than raw honey.” He picked her up and spun her around, making her twirl in the air in his arms. She looked so stunning, her smile and laugh on full display, making Jamie smile in return.

As he set her down, they held each other close, embracing the warmth and love between them. He hugged her tightly, squeezing her in his arms. He looked over for her shoulder for a quick moment, and then realized the food was boiling over.

“Babe! The soup!” he gasped, pointing over at the stove. It bubbled over the top of the pot and sizzled when it touched the hot stovetop.

She quickly pulled away from him, turning her attention to the pot of chicken noodle soup. Throwing a kitchen towel on one of the handles, she quickly moved the pot off of the heat, and turned the stove off.

While in the process of doing this, she had burnt her hand that wasn’t protected by the towel. “Ow! Damn it,” she cursed, “I accidentally burnt my hand.” She walked over to the sink to try and alleviate the pain by running it under some cold water.

Jamie followed behind her, inspecting her burn. He hoped it wasn’t severe enough to cause damage. “I’m so sorry baby, is your hand okay?” he asked worriedly.

“It should be fine, sorry for not paying attention to the food,” she sighed looking at the pot. “I know you really like chicken noodle soup and I just hope it’s not ruined.”

“It’s on me honey. I distracted you,” he apologized. Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “And I don’t think that it is ruined.”

He walked over to the pot, grabbing a spoon to taste the soup. As he took a sip of the broth, he realized that the soup couldn’t be salvaged to his disappointment. “Okay, so,” Jamie turned to look at her, “how about, you go to the bathroom and get a cool towel to wrap your hand in. Is that alright dear?”

She nodded her head and started making her way to the bathroom, allowing Jamie to try and fix the issue at hand. He frantically pulled out his phone and tried to google ‘how to fix a burnt soup’. Some answers that he saw were ‘add honey’ or ‘add sugar’, and so he dug through the cabinets to try and find either of the two things.

Unfortunately, he did not find either of the two things. Jamie kept a mental note to add sugar and honey to the grocery list for the next time he went shopping for groceries. Dialing up the number to order their favorite take-out spot, he checked on the soup one last time to make sure if it was actually ruined or not.

As he tasted the soup, he realized it was for the better if he ordered some take-out. After he ordered the food, she returned from the bathroom, the burn on her hand looking slightly better.

“Hey sweetheart, is your hand a little better?” he asked her.

“Yeah, sorry about the food,” she sighed.

Jamie walked up to her, pulling her into a gentle hug, and rubbed her back comfortingly. “Shh, it’s okay,” he spoke softly. “I know you wanted to make us something since I’ll be gone tomorrow, but all I want is to spend time with you,” he said, kissing her forehead sweetly.

Jamie and her both walked back into the kitchen together, cleaning up the bowls and dishes that held the ingredients for the soup, and all the other kitchen utensils. After they cleaned the kitchen, including throwing the soup away, they headed to their living room.

Once they gathered all their blankets and pillows and placed them on the couch, they grabbed the food that was delivered to them and settled down with a movie under their blankets. The rest of their eventful night was filled with comfort, laughter, and peaceful silence, which resulted in her falling asleep rather quickly.

He looked over at her, seeing her peaceful expression that was illuminated by the TV in the dim lighting, and smiled softly. She fell asleep with her legs on his lap, his hand placed on top of it gently. His heart warmed at the sight of her resting, knowing that she needed it.

Carefully moving away from her, he got up and off of the couch, moving the blankets aside gently. Jamie then picked her up, carrying her in his strong arms, and made his way to their shared room. He tucked her into bed softly, and followed suit with himself. That night, they both rested peacefully, a sweet night’s sleep, and no dreams of a burnt chicken noodle soup.

#hockey #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale fic #philadelphia flyers

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hit-song-showdown · 11 months

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Year-End Poll #72: 2021

[Image description: a collage of photos of the 10 musicians and musical groups featured in this poll. In order from left to right, top to bottom: Dua Lipa, The Weeknd and Ariana Grande, The Weeknd, 24kGoldn, Olivia Rodrigo, Doja Cat and SZA, Silk Sonic, Olivia Rodrigo, Lil Nas X, Justin Bieber and Daniel Caesar and Giveon. End description]

More information about this blog here

In 2021, the charts started to open up again after the lockdowns, but we're mostly seeing how this is affecting newer up-and-coming artists. Olivia Rodrigo's Driver's License was notable for shattering streaming records upon its release, making Rodrigo the first female artist since Carrie Underwood to have a single debut at number one. With her debut album, Sour, the trend of music of the 2020's playing homage to previous decades will continue. Good 4 U is obviously inspired by the pop punk of the early 2000's. The Weeknd's Save Your Tears continues the synthwave influence of his fourth album, After Hours. Levitating, like most of Future Nostalgia, is nu-disco. And Silk Sonic, a musical project conceptualized by Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak with assistance from funk legend, Bootsy Collins, obviously takes influence from the funk and Philadelphia soul sound of the 70's. I like how the final decade in this series feels like a look back at the previous years we've covered. It's like everything is coming full circle.

But the 2020's isn't just made up of homages to the years prior. As far as trends to look towards, obviously TikTok is going to have a major say in what reaches the charts (I believe almost all of the songs listed trended at some point). Could be a chicken and egg thing, since obviously songs that are already popular are going to be more widely used on the app. But as we'll come to see, TikTok will also help to bring songs to the forefront that otherwise wouldn't have charted. Lyrically, the music of the 2020's pop scene also seems more introspective than the start of the previous decade. This works well with the lean towards the "bedroom pop" sound, but even the uptempo dance songs bring up queerness, depression, therapists, and anxiety. Whether these songs handle these topics well is another debate I don't feel like having, but it speaks to a shift in both awareness as well as self-image.

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whatsnewalycat · 2 years

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Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 11: Shallow

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, lying, smut, spanking, PIV sex, daddyyyy, dirty talk, we're going to pretend I know anything about ranching, i've shoehorned several headcanons in here, lotta lotta fluff

Chapter Summary: Our heroes have a sleepover (part one)

Notes: Chapter title from "Shallow" by Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper. Also small note - idk if anyone actually listens to the Spotify playlists I post for chapters, but I put "Chattahoochee" by Alan Jackson on this week's playlist… and I forgot what a fun song that is. I don't even like a lot of country music, but that song makes me want to kick a fucking door off its hinges. I'm posting a day earlier than normal because I'm bored. I might be releasing more chapters earlier than anticipated because I've been able to backlog a ton of writing. Idk, we'll see what happens!!

[ First Chapter ] [ Previous Chapter ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

Peña Ranch, Laredo, TX June 24, 1998

You follow the directions Javier scrawled on the back of a receipt, hoping that you interpret the chicken scratch correctly. Clouds of dust billow out from beneath your tires as you make your way down the desolate dirt road. The radio is off because you’re so nervous, you can’t concentrate with the music playing. Your heart skips a beat when you see a driveway branch off of the road; the gateway above it reads Peña Ranch.

You last saw Javi on Monday, only able to spend about two hours together before he dropped you off at home. He found a place to park on some back road. While rifling through his stack of cassette tapes he keeps in the truck, you found out that, much to your surprise and delight, his go-to album is Prince’s Purple Rain . Among his collection, you also found Public Enemy’s Fear of a Black Planet, Johnny Cash’s American Recordings, and Alan Jackson’s A Lot About Livin’ and a Little ‘Bout Love. This small peak into his music taste is fucking fascinating to you.

But, to be fair, your curiosity is piqued by every scrap of information he’ll give you about himself. For instance, you asked if he's ever been hunting, then he casually told you about how he and his partner shot Pablo Escobar’s homing pigeons that were sent out to communicate via pigeon post while imprisoned. Which only made you have more questions.

“Can I ask you something?” you tilted your chin up to make eye contact with him while resting your head on his lap.

He ran his fingers through your hair, “What?”

“Well… when we went to that restaurant, in the bathroom before we, um,” you couldn’t keep a giant smile from spreading across your face, “fucked. You said something about having a um… body count.”

One hand continued to absentmindedly comb through your hair, while the other danced along your belly, causing your whole body to shudder. He hummed, “Mhmm.”

“What did you mean by that? Like, have you…” you scrunched your nose, not sure if you even wanted to keep asking this question.

He raised his eyebrows, “I’ve killed people, is that what you’re asking?”

You nodded, stomach twisting into a knot, “Do you regret it?”

“That’s a complicated question to answer,” he paused talking to think about it, but never ceased petting you affectionately. After a while, he said, “I don’t like some of the things I did in the DEA, especially… that. You lose a little humanity, you know?” he sighed, “I don’t know.”

You reached up and stroked your thumb against his cheek, stubble like sandpaper, and he leaned into your touch. You wished you could bottle this feeling. The tenderness shared between the two of you when you’re alone makes you feel whole and content.

“It’s ok to not know,” you assured him softly, running your fingers along his mustache, then down to trace his lips, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

He brought his hand up to hold you in place as he turned to kiss your fingertips, your palm, your wrist. And just like that, you were his. The gentle touching and kissing gave way to hungrier urges. Soon you were panting against his mouth as you both frantically pulled clothing off and out of the way.

Post-sex, still breathing heavy, you commented, “I can’t wait to fuck you in a bed.”

“Yeah?” he grinned over at you, basking in the afterglow, “You wanna have a sleepover?”

“A sleepover?” you grin from ear to ear at the slightly juvenile term, “I would love that.”

“Wednesday?”

And it was set.

When a well-maintained brick rambler comes into view, so does a blue merle Australian Shepherd, sprinting from behind the house to see who the visitor is. Javi steps out the front door and starts walking up to meet you, giving an enthusiastic wave and a bright smile that calms your nerves like a Xanax.

“Welcome, cariño,” he greets as you slam the car door behind you.

A grin spreads across your face at the warm welcome. You cheer when the dog skitters at your feet, wagging a stubby tail, then you drop into a crouch to pet him. Javier crouches down next to you, scratching the dog on his butt, causing one of the furry beast’s back legs to start thumping a plume of dust off the gravel driveway.

“What’s his name?” you peer over at Javi, who is just fucking beaming at you. Your stomach flips like you’re free falling.

“Pickles”

You literally squeal; small happy tears prick at the corners of your eyes, “Pickles?!? Oh my god this is the best, I love him.”

“Are you… crying?” he laughs as you both stand up and you wipe your eyes.

“I’m just really happy,” you sniffle, then try to hide your blushing face in embarrassment, “Sorry.”

His thumbs hook through the belt loops on your shorts and pull your waist against his. He leans his back against the truck, then places a light kiss on your cheek, rumbling, “Don’t apologize.”

Nodding up at him through your eyelashes, you flick your eyes between his lips and eyes suggestively. You lean in towards each other, lips meeting in the middle. The kiss is a slow, intimate thing; lips wet and mouths parted enough for your tongues to greet each other. You dissolve into it, arching your back against him, running your fingers through his silky hair. His hands snake around your waist before settling below the hem of your shorts.

The bulge in his jeans twitches as his fingers slide up the back of your shorts, where he firmly grabs handfuls of your ass. A quiet moan slips from your lips onto his. You feel him smile against you before he pulls back.

“Let me show you around,” he requests, slipping his hands out of your shorts. You push off of him, almost on top of Pickles, who has apparently been waiting patiently for you two to stop pawing at each other (dog pun).

His fingers intertwine with yours. Pickles follows behind diligently as Javi takes you on a brief walking tour, showing you one of the livestock barns, some other outbuildings, then brings you up the home’s back porch. As you’re walking up, his dad opens the sliding glass door and gives a small wave. Javi introduces you.

“I believe we’ve met,” he says gruffly, reaching out to shake your hand. He looks down at your hands clasped with Javi’s, then back up to you only after you let go of his son, “With the Bakers, right?”

“That’s right,” you nod, flush breaking out on your face right as your sweaty palm meets his rough one. when you pull back, you cross your arms in front of your abdomen self-consciously.

“Their boy Dan, aren’t you engaged to him?” he further inquires.

You clamp your mouth shut and just nod again.

Fuck fuck fuck

He turns his gaze to Javier, raising his eyebrows and pointing at you, “This is who you’ve been seeing?”

“Yeah, Dad,” Javi sighs, scratching the back of his neck and shifting his weight to one hip.

Chucho looks between the two of you, then shakes his head and chuckles, “You’re both idiots,” while sitting down in a rocking chair on the porch. Laughter bursts out of you.

“Really?” Javi rebuffs his father. Chucho simply nods and chuckles to himself. Javi turns to you, apologies written all over his face, “He doesn’t m-“

You cut him off, shaking your head and smiling with amusement, “No, I think that’s a fair judgment. We are both idiots.”

Chucho looks at him, points to you again, and laughs, “See?”

“Unbelievable,” Javi sighs, looking between you and his dad before settling his eyes on you, “You wanna go inside?”

“Sure. It was nice to see you again, Chucho,” you smile politely and wave at him while Javier guides you into the house by the small of your back. You enter the house into the kitchen. There’s a delicious savory smell wafting through the air.

“As you can see, we’ve got the kitchen, dining room, living room all right here,” he points around the open floor plan and identifies each area. It features a lot of rustic decor, brown furniture, a fire place in the living room… it’s a cozy space, warm and inviting, just like the Peñas.

“It smells so fucking good in here, what are you making? Do I get to eat it?” you question while wandering around the common areas of the house, trailing your finger pads long everything you come across.

“Barbacoa. Dad put it together for dinner, so, yes you get to eat it,” he tells you, leaning up against the kitchen island counter and shoving his hands in his front pockets. He observes you as you explore.

You make your way to a hutch that displays a variety of deer figurines, framed family photos, and other keepsakes. You zero in on one picture in particular, in which a young boy, looking to be 3 or 4, is being held by a woman. The boy has a mop of curly dark brown hair, huge dark eyes, and is laying his head on the woman’s chest, smiling so big you can see his dimples. The woman has the exact same facial features, and a bright smile is spread across her face. She’s beautiful. Her long, wavy, dark brown hair flows down her back.

“Is this you and your mom?” you ask, hunching over so you can examine the photo closer.

“Yeah. That’s a was taken at my 4th birthday party,” he tells you.

Peering back at him, then back at the photo, you smile, “You look just like her.”

You stand up straight and trace the engravings on the hutch, stopping to touch a figurine of a fawn that looks like it’s made a entirely of jade, then another that’s a glass buck standing alert. You’re so focused on the collection, studying each figurine, mesmerized by the variety, trying to determine what the criteria was for selecting each piece, that you don’t notice Javi hovering behind you, watching you closely.

His hands slowly creep around your waist as he pulls your back against him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. The embrace is all encompassing, and you sink into him.

“Do you want to see my room?” he mumbles against your ear. The words reverberate down your spine

“I am dying to see your room,” you purr.

He leads you down the hallway and ushers you into a slightly disheveled bedroom that’s furnished with a desk, dresser, bookshelf, and a queen size bed, made up with a black duvet. The white walls are almost completely bare, save for a calendar and a cork board above the desk.

“Ooo so this is where the magic happens?” you tease, biting your lip and poking him before you walk over to his dresser and start fondling the belongings he has on display. There are framed pictures: a much younger Javi dressed in a graduation cap and gown, mom on one side of him and dad on the other, younger Javi with a pretty smiling blonde woman, and a more recent Javi next to a tall mustachioed blonde man. There’s a dish with miscellaneous coins, paper clips, pins. A pair of sunglasses, which you’ve seen him wear frequently, sits next to the dish.

He scoffs and sits down on the bed, studying you studying him.

"What are these for?" you ask when you spot a few hardcover text books on his desk. Also scattered across the desktop is a haphazard stack of files and loose papers, a paperback copy of And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, a DEA coffee cup filled with pens, an ashtray, and an open notebook filled with illegible scribbles.

He clears his throat, then falters, "I um... I look at cold cases when I have free time."

A grin crosses your face as you mutter under your breath, "That's so fucking cool."

You step closer to look at the cork board hanging on the wall above his desk, chest fluttering when you see the drawings you’ve given him: a deer and a willow tree. They're pinned up next to a calendar, along with your phone number. A confession leaves your lips, “I didn’t think you would actually keep these.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

When you turn around and face him, his brow is furrowed, mouth turned down in a frown.

“I… I don’t know. Nobody has really liked my doodles before,” you admit.

He grabs your hand and pulls you closer, resting his ear against your belly, hugging your waist as he mumbles, "I like them."

Your fingers card through his hair and he turns to gaze up at you, warm and wanting. It sends goosebumps rippling across your skin. You bend down and press your lips onto his, drawing back for a moment, only to renew the kiss with fervor. His tongue runs along yours as you part your mouth. As he kisses you, heat pools in your center from the insatiable way he nips and tugs at you. You’ve barely been touching a minute and already you want him.

Fiending for more, you climb on top of him and push him flush against the mattress. His fingers dig into your sides as he presses you down, arching his hips so you can feel how bad he wants you. It draws a shaky breath from your chest and you grind down onto him. He groans, “Fuck, baby that’s so good.”

The praise flips your stomach; you fold on top of him and growl into his ear, “stick out your tongue.” He follows your direction and moans as you lap against his tongue, into his mouth, licking every inch of the cavern desperately. You trail messy kisses down his face to his throat, where you stretch your mouth wide to suck and fondle the salty skin. A possessiveness falls over you; thinking of how women frequently approach this handsome man, you want a mark to show he’s yours.

His hands roam under your shorts, palming your cheeks in unison, bouncing your ass up and down, slow at first, with increasing speed as you arch your back into it and whimper. It sends a dizzying rush of pleasure up your middle, and you moan, “slap my ass.”

His palm meets your ass check with a loud smack. “Do you like that?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Fuck yes. Do it again,” you breathe, nodding and popping your ass up as far as you can for better access.

“You like it when I slap your ass, baby?” he growls as a sharp pain shoots across the other cheek with a smack.

The sounds ring throughout the room with an echo smack smack smack smack, turning you into a writhing, sopping wet mess, crying, “Yes yes yes, baby holy fuck-"

“Yes daddy,” he corrects firmly. His deep voice bounces off the empty walls of his bedroom, harmonizing with countless smacks that almost bury the moans escaping you.

You gasp as his hands take up more real estate in your shorts, then he spreads your ass apart, “Y-yes… yes daddy. Fuck- yes daddy.”

He growls, “Such a good girl. Take your clothes off for me.”

You’re on your feet in a second while he sits up in bed, both of you ripping your clothes off frantically. Once you’re both completely stripped, there's a moment reserved to observe each other, nude, ripe with desire, panting and sweating. This is the first time you’ve seen each other completely naked in the light of day. This is the first time you’ve been together in a bed. You try to soak in every detail, noting that his shoulders are broad and tanned, slight farmer’s tan. Prominent veins in his forearms. Sparse chest hair. Soft belly accented with a thicket of dark hair running from his navel to his engorged, deliciously thick, cock. He’s fucking gorgeous.

His lust-blown eyes scan over your bare skin; he reaches out and runs his fingers along your sides, causing goosebumps break out on across on your skin. The touch is so soft, so delicate, in stark contrast to the slaps that have surely made your ass beet red. A small whimper falls from your lips as his touch sets your nerves on fire. He whispers breathlessly, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

The words pull at your heart and suck the air from your lungs. He’s looking at you with such warmth and admiration, you start to blush and your cunt clenches. Your hands cup his cheeks, thumb rubbing along his face affectionately. His eyes bore into yours, hot and ready. You push him back onto the bed again and straddle him, sliding his cock between your slick, swollen lips. He embraces you in a kiss, sweet and gentle at first, then deepens it, pulling you down closer to him. When you pull back from his kiss just enough to press your forehead against his, you profess to him hesitantly, “I love the way you look at me. I- I love the way you touch me… you make me feel wanted. It’s… it’s fucking mad how I feel when I’m with you.”

He searches your eyes, nodding like he knows. Like he feels exactly the same. He starts thrusting, just so his cock lightly rubs up and down your folds. You shudder. His lips form an O and his brows draw together as he throws his head back.

You position yourself so his member is at your entrance, then lower down just enough to engulf the head. A groan flies from his throat as you keep him there, torturing him.

“Please,” he begs, bucking his hips up to get more of you. You lower yourself down further, working yourself open with him inch by inch, breath hitching as your pussy gets filled exactly how you need it to be.

Pleasure floods your body, rippling from your center through your toes and fingers. Your whimpers bounce off the walls as you rut up and down his shaft. He huffs and pants from beneath you, matching your movements with his own, arching his back until you’re filled to the hitch. You moan, “Your cock is- fuck- is perfect- m-made to be inside me.”

He holds your hips down against him hard and drives into you, making you gasp, then groans, “I love it when you talk to me like that, baby-“

You defy his grasp and start rolling your hips, grinding down onto him. He growls and flips so your back is against the mattress and he’s on top of you now, cradling your head in his strong hands. He begins pounding into you, and Jesus fuck the noises this man has you making as you’re panting and kissing on his lips, his face, begging for him to not stop; your entire body is humming and throbbing.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me so well,” he coos, holding your foreheads together while he fucks you into the mattress.

“Javi- baby- fuck, I’m going to cum-“ you cry, arching your back up towards him as the tingling in your center starts to grow. You whine and press your lips onto his for a sloppy desperate kiss, needing to be as close to him as possible.

His hips stutter as he starts to come undone, “yes- be a good girl cum for me baby, let me feel that tight pussy-“ and you find your release, crying out as pleasure ripples across your body and around his cock. He follows shortly after with a feral groan.

“Holy shit,” you whisper as he rolls off of you, then drapes his arm across your stomach. He hums and closes his eyes in agreement, pulling you into his chest. You settle there, content to feel his heart beat against your ear as he plays with your hair. The rise and fall of his chest hypnotizes you into a tranquil state. With your fingertips and your nails, you absentmindedly draw swirls and hearts onto his torso, trace his facial features, explore him with a wonder you can’t help but have.

He kisses the top of your head and mumbles, “I have to do some stuff outside, you wanna come with me?”

“Will I get in the way?” you ask, not sure what ‘some stuff outside’ entails.

He frowns, “Of course not.”

So you both get dressed and go outside, meeting Pickles and Chucho back on the porch where you left them.

“Hey Pop, we’re gonna go take a drive around,” Javi informs his dad as he leads you towards a four wheeler.

You get on after him, securing your arms around his waist, and Pickles jumps on behind you. While navigating around the land, Javi points out different landmarks, tells you stories, and details to you different things he keeps an eye out for while driving around like this, like fencing that needs repair, signs of overgrazing, making sure the cows are all acting normal, etc. With every nugget of information he gives you, you ask too many questions in return, but he’s patient and knows you’re just inquisitive.

Not only do you feel physically close to him, clinging onto him, nuzzled against his back, inhaling his scent… but you also feel emotionally close to him. He puts his hand on yours every so often, rubbing his thumb across your skin affectionately. You know he's giving you a tour because you’ve shown interest in what he does on the ranch, but also, you think he actually wants to share pieces of himself with you. You wonder if he’s been able to share himself freely before. You haven't been able to. Not like this. Being with him always brings you a great sense of euphoria, but it’s especially intense today.

Once you return to the barn, the three of you hop off as Javi kills the engine. Chucho is still in the rocker on the porch, but has a tall, sweaty, glass of iced tea in his hand now. It’s fucking hot out. If you were hydrated enough to produce saliva, you'd be drooling at it.

“Y’all hungry?” he asks.

“Starving,” you respond without hesitation.

Javi presses his hand into the small of your back, guiding you inside, “Let’s eat.”

[ Next Chapter ]

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love-islike-abomb · 6 months

Text

Renegade: part 3

Roman reigns x OC scarlet

Gif credit: @romanreigns

Warnings: just romance, errors I may have missed

Tag list: @angelreigns444 @acknowledge-reigns

If you want to be tagged for future chapters please let me know❤️

______

The next day

Scarlet's POV

It was the day of our date. I texted Joe to see what time he was coming over.

Joe: roughly 630.you have plenty of time beautiful!😉

Scarlet: how did you- nevermind. Ok I'll see you in a few hours❤️

"That was weird" I thought but after a While i had pushed it out of my mind. I had a few things to do before I started getting ready. My kitchen needed cleaned. It looked horrible. Im.exhausted when I get home from work. What did you expect?

Once I finished the kitchen i went upstairs and got a shower drid myself off and got dressed. Something simple yet me...

I finished getting ready just as the doorbell rang. I went downstairs and opened it to see a very handsome Joe standing there looking sexy like he always did!

"Hey Scarlet! Wow you look nice! Love the Tina turner pumps by the way!" He said winking at me. "Nice leather jacket!" I said

"80s music?" He said. "it's Iggy pop!! Dont judge my retro loving arse!" I laughed getting up to dance and letting the music take over "come ere!" I said inviting him over to where I was. having a blast dancing like Cyndi laupner would. "I love to dance even if I look like a fool doing it" I smiled and shrugged.

"Come on let's get dinner going" he smiled.

Pulling things out of the bag I realized he bought Chicken Alfredo "one of my favorite foods" I smiled.

We made the base for the Alfredo and danced as the music played.

"Take on me!! Take me on"

"I havent heard a bunch of these songs in ages!" He smiled

"What can I say..I'm kinda retro!" I laughed

"Hey do you like broccoli in your Alfredo?" He asked

"I do! It's really good!"

"Chicken broccoli Alfredo?"

"That sounds delicious!"

"It's settled then!" He smiled.

About 20 minutes later dinner was doe and he set the pan on the table. It smelled a d looked delicious. I set the table and we sat down and grabbed what we wanted. Our conversation never stopped. We talked about everything from our families to our childhoods to work and future plans.

"This was really good but I'm so damn full!" I groaned.

"It really was good! I haven't had this much fun in a while" he smiled.

"Another good song" I said

"I- I live among the creatures of the night! I haven't got the will to try and fight.... Against a new tomorrow so I'll make myself believe it"

I stood up dancing around the living room and just enjoying myself. "You know the old saying of dance like no one's watching?" I asked

"Yeah"

"I tend to live by that saying. Being yourself is so freeing! Not having to live up to people's expectations!" I said.

"I'm a soldier of love"

"Donny Osmond" he smiled

"Great song to dance to" I smiled grabbing his hand "come dance with me!"

"Like Thief in the night who can't get enough I am willing to fight cause I'm a soldier of love"

I smiled swaying my hips and enjoying the music. I hadn't been this happy in a while.

As the music played and we danced together the chemistry only kept growing. Sneaking a glance every so often to see the other smiling. "It's a state of the heart when your a soldier of love"

Our dancing slowed as we just looked at each other, my back to his chest. "Scarlet, you have the most beautiful brown eyes" he whispered. Looking from my eyes to my lips. "This very romantic" I smiled.

"Well you know I gotta be your soldier of love" he smirked.

I playfully smacked his shoulder.

"So cheesy!" I giggled

"I'm a hopeless romantic what can I say?

Just standing here dancing with you has been amazing. I don't want it to end"

"I don't either" I smiled.

The music suddenly brought is out of our trance.

"Is this love that I'm feeling?"

"White snake" I smiled "i forgot they were even on here"

"I think it is though" he said

"Think what is what?" I asked

"That this is love that I'm feeling" he smiled

I slowly looked up into his eyes and as the song said "is this the love that I've been searching for" I let his lips on mine. He was such an amazing kisser. It was soft yet needy like he'd been wanting to do it since he got here. I out my hands on either side of his face to deepen it. After a while he pulled away. "as much as i want this to continue I can't" I said.

"It's alright. I'm not gonna force you" he smiled.

"You're amazing" I smiled reaching up to touch his face. Grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips "no you are! Everything about you is! The way you look at the world, the fun you have, and if we're being honest the way you away those hips when you're into a song!" He said wiggling his eyebrows.

I giggled "I'd be lying if I said I wasnt looking yesterday when you threw that guy out!"

He smiled "well before this gets to much further I should help clean up dinner"

"I forgot all about that" I said

"That tends to happen when you're enjoying yourself" he winked.

We sprayed the dishes off before putting them in the sink and cleaned the counter off. "I had a really good time tonight" he smiled

"Me to" I smiled back.

"I should get going though. I have to work in the morning and so do you"

"Don't remind me" I scoffed then laughed.

He chuckled "hey I could always bring lunch to your work if that'd be ok?"

"I would love that" I smiled. "Lunch is roughly around 1230"

"Well it's settled, I'll see you tomorrow!" He smiled.

"Have a good night" I smiled giving him one last kiss before closing the door.

#roman reigns #wwe x oc #roman reigns x oc #wwe fanfiction #roman reigns fanfiction #romance #Spotify

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heresathreebee · 2 years

Text

Tom Grant | Makeup (2019) || Prompt Anal // Glove Kink

College in America AU/ Vacation in America AU; 2.6k words; NO BETA/ SELF- EDITED. Best Friends to Lovers, American Author Writing British Characters, Swearing, Alcohol, Wet Dreams, Somewhat Dubious Consent, Groping, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Fingering (spit is not lube SPIT IS NOT LUBE; male receiving), Mutual Masterbation (male and female receiving)

Previous | Masterlist | Next: Steve Harrington Breathplay / Missionary

You were dreaming about him again– your best friend Tom. Watched too much Tila Tequila and Love Island reruns and now you’re thinking about him doing body shots off of you.

Licking sugar off your neck, sucking vodka from your belly button, and going for the lemon wedge in your mouth only for you to spit it out and kiss him instead. You dream about his hand closing around your throat and pulling back with a dangerous look at his eye.

“Naughty girls get punished,” his voice echoes in your ear as his other hand forces its way into your shorts and his fingers slip into your welcoming channel–

“OI WAKE UP, YOU’RE GONNA MAKE US LATE–”

You don’t usually wake up screaming but today is the exception. Tom threw your door open and didn’t seem to notice your complete state of disarray. Then he threw an empty duffle bag at you and bounced on his heels.

“Move your ass, English, we’ve got a road trip to start!”

He slammed your door closed and hollered down the hall of the dorm. Your thighs were still shaking from your weak orgasm and you mourned yet another pillow lost to your devilish fantasies. You knew Tom would bark about you showering but you weren’t about to ride three hours in a car with sticky underwear. At least you were already packed.

As predicted, Tom made a fuss but you were still on the road in no time. The urge to slip your hand down your pants and try and take care of the lingering sexual energy haunting you was unfortunately a nonestarter what with Tom constantly chattering on beside you. You managed to distract yourself with song selections and the thought of finally getting to see some old friends from home who were visiting for the summer.

After sunset, a dozen rounds of beach volleyball, and three kegs of beer, all of your drunk mates went scrambling for ice cream that you and Tom had already eaten on the boardwalk.

A dare battle was inevitable in a crowd like this, but between you and Tom it had become an all out war. Handstands in gas stations, swimming contests (a few close call drownings), dropping ice down each other's shirts or stuffed into bikinis and swim trunks, wrestling in the sand. A few of your friends were established couples and a few single (and not so single) mates were looking to hook up. You almost felt left out of the sexual energy buzzing around. There had been one grope from a tall Cali local friend that you were enthusiastic about, but Tom had put an end to that quickly (and to your eternal suffering). You were planning on getting him back for that. You waited until the two of you were alone, some distance from the boardwalk while everyone else was taking turns playing an old arcade game by the hotdog stand.

“Tommy,” you sang. He was polishing off a beer by the fire. “Do you wanna play… chicken?”

Instantly, Tom rolled his eyes. “Oh don’t start that. Don’t start that ‘cause you always lose.”

“I do not!” You kick a stray football and a spray of sand follows it. “But if I did… what have you got to lose, seeing as you'll win and all?”

Tom stared at you long and hard. “Fuck it.” He tossed his empty beer into the mountainous trash bag and swaggered over to you, his eyes glancing up at the boardwalk where people were becoming less frequent and less visible in the growing darkness. The sky was purple, the beach black, and everything near the fire was dancing red and orange, including the two of you. “Me first.”

“All yours then.”

The first thing Tom likes to do– he always likes to do– is glance at your lips and lean towards you. It’s a faux pas, one that has lost you many, many games as you always flinch or run away. This time, you gulp and stand firm, unable to look at him so you screw your eyes closed. You felt the gentle breeze of his breath on your lips, still a little sweet smelling from the icecream flavor you forced him to pick earlier (pink bubblegum). He doesn’t kiss you– he has never kissed you– and you can’t breathe or open your eyes for fear of caving in until he backs off.

“Alright…?” Tom was clearly weirded out by your reaction.

You smile and hope he buys your nonchalant expression. “Is that all you’ve got? You’re getting sloppy, mate.”

“Cheeky,” he grumbled. You watched Tom pop his finger into his mouth which would have been sexy if you didn’t know what he intended to do with it.

“Don’t,” you said through gritted teeth. “I swear to god, Tommy–”

“A-what? Is that… a chicken, I hear?,” Tom teased and wiggled his shiny finger right by the tip of your nose. “Are you chickening, chicken?”

You bite your lip and glare really hard at him. You would not fold this time. You take the wet willy with a growl and curse at him while he giggles and gives up on it. The next moves he doesn't do often (because you've a tendency to chicken out long before then).

His roguish hands hover dangerously (delectably) close to your body as if scanning you for ticklish spots and erogenous zones. "D'you know, I think you really grew into your body. I mean, look at these hips!"

His hands plant themselves and grope you, his touch is just on the edge of being rough and leaves a small lingering impression of themselves behind like an after image. It takes everything in you not to moan and collapse into him– he's massaging your curves to tease you, trying to make you uncomfortable without realizing you are very into his attention.

"And this?"

His hands travel down until they're squeezing the apple of your ass and all but forcing your body towards him. You have to take a step closer just to keep your balance and have worried your lip so hard the inside starts to bleed. Tom has picked up on your impregnable silence and, as predicted, takes things a step further.

He loves winning and it's never this hard. There's no preamble, Tom simply slides his hands up your torso and around your back to fiddle with the ties of your bikini top and giving you his most smoldering looks (it's working, your skin is burning everywhere he looks at you).

"Nice tits too. When did you get them?," he says like he's asking about the weather.

You roll your eyes and squeak when he squeezes them. It’s something you’ve had a hundred wet dreams about, but it’s all just a game to him and you have to maintain that it’s just a game for you too. “Go on, get it out of your system, you pervert.”

As if playing into the character, Tom folds his tongue and groans lasciviously as his hands flatten and squeeze your boobs again. You lock your jaw and peak over your shoulder to find your friends still far away and sitting down to eat. You accidentally gasp when his hands find their way beneath your bikini top and his thumbs flick over your sensitive nipples causing electric shocks to storm through your body.

He's breaking the rules. Its an unspoken one, but you bite your tongue and don't chicken or call him out, so at long last, Tom’s hands disappear from your body and he sighs in defeat.

You smile smugly at his shocked face even as you readjust your bikini. “Finished?” For once, it’s Tom shifting uncomfortably because of you. “My turn?”

“Yeah, alright.” Tom clears his throat and opens himself up (shoulders back, hands limp at his sides).

No backing out now– this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You tuck your poor, savaged bottom lip between your teeth and undress him with your eyes, lingering on the curls tumbling over his forehead, the column of his throat, his broad shoulders, the outline of musculature beneath his shirt. It’s cute the way he squirms. You’ve never looked at him like that before (not while he was watching anyways).

“What to play with first…” you whisper to yourself. “Whatcha got in here?”

Flinching is an instant loss in chicken, but a tiny bit is allowed. Tom flinches when he sees you reaching for his shorts but he growls as you reach into his pockets.

“Come ooon,” he groans as you dig around through his personal items. Crumbled receipts, a capless pen, a joint, two lighters, a calculator– that makes you giggle as you pocket all of his things to keep the sand off of them. Then you pull his wallet and wave it in front of his eyes.

“That’s off limits,” he barks immediately.

“Just a look isn’t!” You open the wallet to find stacks of cards, wads of tens and ones, his ID, and a saucy picture of a girl. “Look, not taking anything! My tits are bigger.”

“Better, you mean,” he grumbles as you pocket his personal items and return to skimming your hands over his thighs looking for secret pockets. “Not gonna find any other goodies– ACKH!”

Tom gasps as you cup his balls through his trunks. His eyes widen and a shiver runs through him. You, on the other hand, are wearing the biggest shiteating grin.

“Hey look! More goodies!”

His disbelief has him silent and staring like a statue. You pay him no mind and let your hands wander elsewhere, touching him the way you wish he would touch you. Feather light, almost ticklish as you touch his chest and belly under his shirt.

"Hope you're prepared to witness the consequences of your actions," Tom warned.

"Consequences?," you scoffed. And then you looked down to see an interesting lump forming below his waistband. “Oh.”

Tom is shameless, you are suddenly beginning to learn. Two can play at that game. You walk your fingers over the button of his shorts before setting the button free, much to Tom's shock.

"I… you can't," he's starting to protest, "thought we were keeping it over the clothes…"

It was an unspoken rule, but… "is that what you call your last move? Tweaking my nipples?"

Tom snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. You started to feel sorry for him and offered an olive branch. "I won't take anything out, promise."

Tom's jaw clenched as he felt the zipper loosen with ease and relieve some pressure off his arousal. You bit your lip again and offered another boon, one you pray he doesn't take.

"Just chicken and we can stop," you whisper. "Seriously. It's just a game, Tommy. But I won't stop unless you tell me to."

Emotions warred on your friends' face. He wasn't sure he wanted you to stop, only... he couldn't say it felt right letting you keep on. In the end he chose silence, except for an eye rolling grunt as your hand came into contact with the impression of his junk through his cotton briefs.

"Wow, speaking of growing…" You chuckled madly at Tom's indignant growl.

Judging entirely by feel, Tom was your version of perfect. Not too big, not too small, and a formidable girth if you weren't mistaken. But now was not the time to back down– it's possible for you to still win your first game of chicken, if only you'd go just a little further.

"Stop enjoying yourself," you scold your squirmy friend.

"I-I… enjoying myself? I'm just, I'm just reacting to being touched!"

You let your fingers wander from his junk to his backside and feel him tense up. "You know the magic word to make it all stop, love."

Tom looks at you nervously. "What are you doin' now?"

"Something wicked," you reply, and squeeze his cheeks.

For a moment, Tom's eyes flutter. "That's not so bad…"

"Really? What would you call a wet willy that doesn't go in your ear?," you stuff a few of your fingers into your mouth.

"Y-you wouldn't," he stutters but grows more confident. "Nah, you wouldn't. You're… too prudish to do that. Even I wouldn't, and I–"

Tom cuts himself off and swallows hard. He is forced to watch as you suck your own digits, even thrusting shallowly into your mouth for show. Your eyes are hard set on his, practically shouting, 'chicken, chicken!' but he won't (he doesn't want to).

Once your fingers are starting to prune, you pluck them out with a pop. "Sorry I didn't plan ahead, otherwise I would've brought you some lube. But this should be fine, right?"

Tom shivers as your hand disappears behind his back again and feels your other, dry hand spread his cheeks a little.

"You'll tell me if it hurts won't you?," you whisper innocently, "I'll go in slow but you can chicken at any time."

"Fuck. You," Tom grinds out. "I'm no chicken."

“... suit yourself.”

Tom’s jaw drops as he feels the pad of your finger circle the rim of his hole. He tenses as you start to push in, but just as quickly he feels his body betray him by relaxing and allowing you to breach, his cock twitching in his boxers as your fingers curl a few inches inside of him. It takes him until he sees stars dancing around your serene face to realize that he’s stopped breathing and he gulps his first few breaths in over a minute.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice cracking high, “fuck fuck fuck…”

“That good, eh?” You’re teasing him but he can’t answer you when you start working your fingers in and out of him in a shallow, dainty rhythm.

“What the fuck? What the fuck–” Tom is at a loss for words.

His hips rut involuntarily, brushing his clothed cock against your belly and making him moan. If he had known his night would end like this… well he never would have expected anything close to this, how could he? His best mate’s got her fingers planted in his hole!

Tom manages to focus his eyes just long enough to make out your lust drunk face again and beg. “I-I can’t come like this.”

“Sure you can–”

“No I-I-I can’t.” His hands which had been balled into fists at his side now fly to your shoulders to keep you close. “You’re t-too tiny to reach deep enough. Please, you have to touch my cock, please…”

Tom feels you moan more than he hears you (the vibration in your chest making his cock leak). His forehead presses to yours as he feels your other hand slip between your bodies and the second you squeeze his balls, he slams his mouth into yours in a sloppy kiss. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip and your fist moves lightning fast over his cock. The assault of sensations has his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he’s coming hard, his hole fluttering around your spit covered fingers and his cum drenching your bikini top.

“Fuck, fuck, stop, please…”

You let Tom go gently, but his own hands pull you into another searing kiss before he collapses to his knees and bumps his sweaty head on your thigh. You giggle when you feel him rub his nose against your zipper and back away quickly, too overcome and aware of your location to let him continue.

Tom stares after you longingly as you slip away to the ocean’s edge and jumps when he’s suddenly surrounded by all of your drunk, happy, and oblivious friends. It takes him a second to stand on his trembling legs, but when he does he finds you hip deep in the water and taking care of yourself. You almost scream when you feel a body press against your back, only to relax when you realize it’s only Tom.

“Oi,” his warm breath tickles your neck and raises goosebumps. “That’s my fucking job.”

His calloused hands cover yours– one over your breast and the other in your open shorts, taking over your minstrations and making you see stars. This is much better than winning a silly little chicken game.

Previous | Masterlist | Next: Steve Harrington Brrathplay/ Missionary

Bienvenu powerbottoms! If you've made it this far, perhaps you would like to leave me a comment about something you liked or would be excited to read from me! Nothing makes my day more than hearing what people think about my work 🧡

#three bees writing #kinktober 2022 challenge #tppkinktober2022 #tom grant smut #tom grant x female reader #black reader insert #joseph quinn character fiction

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ahedderick · 1 year

Text

Career and VoTech

I know a lot of important measuring, learning, cutting, bending, and connecting goes on in electrical class. But also. Apparently.

Mr. R: Ok, you guys did good, take a half-hour free time.

My Daughter: Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do

The other students: oooo-Kay

My D: Hunter/Tanner/Skinner/Aiden/Cayden/Jaiden we’re learning a Tik-tok dance here’s what you do.

Students: ‘k?

My D: You play this song. You hold the camera.

My D: So here are the moves. No. Not like that. Like a chicken. You have to. Y’know what, everybody line up.

Students: ‘K (muffled giggling)

My D: Ok, you’re getting it.

My D: Ok, film us this time.

Music. Dancing. Camera.

- - - - - - - - -

Her: Mom, we made a dance video!

Me: In . . electrical class?

Her: YEAH! It’s got 1000 views on Tik-tok

Me: ?? and . . uh... you just?

Her: I Told Them What to Do

Me (who once held an actual leadership position and attended actual leadership seminars): That’s amazing

Her: COOL, huh?!!

Me: Yep. Cool.

#momblr #momlife #teenager

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sparklehoard · 10 months

Note

I have been summoned it is ask time (answer as many or as few of these as you like!)

if you could have a pocket-sized version of any creature, alive or extinct, real or fictional or mythical, what would you choose?

did you have any imaginary friends as a kid?

what’s your favorite cold-weather meal? What’s your favorite warm-weather meal? What’s your favorite grey/rainy-day meal?

if you could receive a flower crown right now what flowers would you want it to be made from?

what would you change about your room if you had unlimited budget and manpower

what song are you obsessed with now and why?

do you know how to slow dance/ballroom dance?

what’s your opinion on cream cheese?

Had this saved for a rainy day I guess. God do I need right now. My only free time for the next 2 weeks is like the hours I wait to let the dogs outside at the housesitting job I'm at.

Watch out this'll be a long one. Pocket sized animal friend?I feel like I'd want a seal? Take it out for instant serotonin. Let it swim in the sink. Leet it swim with me in lakes. Although I'm not sure how to take care of a seal. I hope it's magically sturdy.

No imaginary friends but as a kid I played "imaginary boyfriend" a lot with friends and my sisters.

Fav cold weather meal? Stew!

Fav warm weather meal? Stuff with green onions! Like potato salad and chicken on rice with green onion and cucumbers!

Fav grey/rainy day meal? My local cafés curry chicken,sweet potato and carrots soup! Order it with their special Vietnamese coffee and sit by the window and watch the storm rage on while you eat 💛

What kind of flower crown would I want right now? Gotta go with classic dandelions. I like how they smell. But if I were feeling a bit fancier I would've chosen lilacs. Maybe little sunflowers too?

What would I change about my room unlimited?

No more white walls that's for sure. A mattress long enough for my freaking body would be nice. A whole bunch of shelves around my art/computer desk for easy access to everything. And a way to maximize my closet so I could SEE all my clothing options at once. And like...functionally I'd like to get my whole room better insulated. It's so cold all the time. Even in the summer.

A song I'm obsessed with right now. Uhm it's actually Hey I Don't Work Here by Tom Cardy. It's like a jokey song but it's got a catchy beat and a bit about lifeguards I can feel in my soul.

Do I know how to slowdance/ ballroom dance? No not at all. Only the country two step really. It can be disguised as a slow dance.

Opinion on cream cheese? Aside from cheesecake I don't like it in anything sweet. But it is a GOD to all other bagel toppings.

#long post #ask #cryptvokeeper #thank god i had this saved away im so BORED #thank you again. these were very good questions

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whisperthatruns · 10 months

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The Long Labors

My grandmother said it was going to be long—as long as you can hold your lineage—depending on how long you can hold your tongue—as long as your tongue can wrap around the pit—of some stolen stone fruit—as long as you can hide your pitter-patter face—glued in sun-split splinters—lengthening shadows as long as your face—longing to be mirrored back—back to your daughter your mother your grandmother—freckle by freckle—furnished forever across—the long loaming haul— Collapsed in a pool of spit—my mouth over papers—raccoon doctorate—luxurious loser with thin branch fingers—no meat in the palm—no muscle in the bending—the farmer in me is atrophying—the cook the factory seamstress the clerk the mother in me is pooling out—all that I come from—all that I owe to them—what is left of me—what is—me: professorial rat—book-leavened and maddened in meetings—chewing at my desk on a frozen anything—microwave spun and splattered on lessons—wondering who packaged this—who spooned this glacial sauce into this plastic hull—whose hands whose daughter does she look like me does she like dancing in the gloaming—funneled into my greedy mouth—I: daughter of long labors—I: knock-off half-price guilt—I: impossible imposter big words big words—trying to prove what—and to whom—I wait to be seated at a restaurant—a white person enters and orders from me—“I want sweet and sour chicken but without bell peppers and brown rice”—and I almost take it down— In the twelfth hour of night-shift overtime—my mother gobbles the air of the facility—mouth opening a cavern or a bowhead whale or a sinkhole—gobbling up its oxygen its nitrogen its argon its skin its hair dust its swirling smog—collecting time collecting benefits—her eyes so baggy they carry a leaking pack of chicken breasts—she had planned to cook tonight for us—but look at the break room clock she is out of time and now—they will surely go bad—what a waste at $1.50 a pound—she returns to her station rubs tiger balm and lavender oil along her wrists and hands—chews dried ginger to keep awake—the root of herself sharpening salivating—reapplies pink lipstick swivels the tube upward—rituals of resilience—feeds letters to machines churning intestinal noise—electricity bills and love letters and baby photos and magazines ladies who lunch will take to the salon and credit card limited-time offers and reminders from the dentist and supermarket weeklies and postcards from Oahu—“you wouldn’t believe how blue the water how restful how peaceful bring the whole family next time”—ginger chew ginger chew— Who made this for you—do you know the song that reminds them of home—do you know to play the radio as loud as you can and roll down the windows and smack your cheeks ten times in order to stay awake for the drive—do you know who sewed on this button—do you know the murmuring leg ache from standing all day a tree for whom—do you know who processed the letter you received today—fed it into a machine with paper cuts as wide as a river you could float in—do you know how long you can hold your urine until your 15-minute break—the roiling pressure in the abdomen the tick-tap of the feet the hands—how much to tip the gas station attendant in Jersey how the smell sticks behind both earlobes—the temperature when flipping a wok the oil burns the white paper hat measuring salt at the brim—how your impatient face resembles a slowly rotting peach—worms in the snarl—do you know the name of your fishmonger the name of my uncle—the times he snuck in a call to say he will be late picking up his daughter fish scales glittered to his elbows like opera gloves—do you know cuticles peeling white like flecks of cod after washing dishes—do you know the smell of nail polish remover stinging bees in your nostrils—do you know the back—how the back curls how the back bridges how the back puckers and crunches—like packed snow no one else but you will shovel out—I look up how labor is used in a sentence—“the obvious labor”—“immigrants provided a source of cheap labor”—“negotiations between labor and management”—“wants the vote of labor in the elections”—“the flood destroyed the labor of years”—“industry needs labor for production”—anthropocene capitalism gentrification—what do these words mean—and to whom—helping my mother over the sink—I snip the ends of long beans 豆角 with kitchen shears—the ends rolling away—green lizard tails—I cut away each word like a long bean—gentrificat—gentrif—gen—ge—g—glugging the g—down the drain— If only lying on a beach—limbs loosened like an old garden hose—if only watching the movements of our stomachs—rising and falling like baby jellyfish—our thighs waxing and waning—in bristle-rough sand if only—reading a book the pages—wrinkled and curled like a snail shell—from falling asleep against our faces—if only devouring a cloud—full of no rain no metallic muscle if—only softness if only we—went off in the softness—into the downy relaxing abyss—what is this word—vacation—my grandmother asks me chili hitting the wok like delicious dying stars— My grandmother said it was going to be long—going out the door always late for work—shirt inside out—said go on and bounce a howling baby (my mother/me/et al)—while skimming oxtail broth—the fat sheen of look how well we eat in this country—lest you forget it was worth it—lest you forget—the dilation of the cervix going the contractions going the grip the placenta the shit the vernix the garbled life going the soft flashlight eyes the milk the teeth the nails the hand on heart the soup coagulating on the stove—you must go—for what gleams in the dark turns to look at you—remember this— The work and the afterwork and the work of being perceived as not doing enough work though you are working well over enough—will this ever be enough—when is enough enough—the chorus now: not until the knots of fat—melt in this wok—not until you have nothing left but this suet—this smear of high-heat lineage—gleaming in the gloaming—and it is yours and it is mine and it is your dream daughter’s and it will last longer than you will ever believe—believe us—

Jane Wong, How to Not Be Afraid of Everything (Alice James Books, 2021)

#quote #jane wong #the long labors #how to not be afraid of everything #poetry

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wroteonedad · 2 years

Text

Meme Culture in Art

I consider myself to be a shitposter. Especially on my Instagram stories. Everyone who knows me will know this. I like to post everything.

On my days off, I like to go on my silly little walks which is the exact same loop every time. I walk along the pier, film a little video of the sea, put a fun little song I like over the top and post it. Two hours later, I'm scrolling through TikTok. I see a video of a 3D rotisserie chicken; dancing, running, jumping. Headless. Over the endless clips plays earrape. Nokia phone ringtones, Quandale Dingle, 'have some more chicken, have some more pie'. I like it and then repost it to my Instagram story. One of my old managers told me that watching my story is a giant fever dream to him. He's right.

Memes have been used in various art forms for years, even before a meme became a meme. I'm talking about Dadaism, political satire, conceptual art, even some forms of performance art to name a few. The prime purpose of these works are to make fun of a situation, to depict something in a humorous way, and sometimes, they're made to make no sense at all.

Dadaism began around 1916. The reason they started the art movement was because a group of artists wanted to create pieces of works that depicted the horrors of the First World War. The works included performance, montage poetry; thus all designed to either form a satirical nature or be completely non sensical. At the end of the day, this movement was created to be political, to go against what others thought, and to evoke them. It was a short lived movement, but highly noted in terms of art history and the developments that followed shortly after.

Marcel Duchamp had to be one of my favourite artists from this movement. And why? Because his work was so simple, yet so effective. The way he thought to sign a urinal as R.Mutt and submit it into an exhibition is ballsy. As far as meme culture in art goes, I always immediately discuss Duchamp because he is a joke artist that works effectively. There is nothing offensive, cynical or mundane about the joke art he created.

Also, just the fact that to this day, you can go into an art gallery and just look at a literal signed urinal is hilarious to me. I think this piece alone has exactly the same energy as America by Maurizio Cattelan. Now I could go on about this man and his works forever. I could write essays about him. I tried to base my entire dissertation on one of his many controversial works. Ironically, the piece of his work I studied was not actually America. In fact, I never even mentioned the piece at all.

America is exactly what you would think it is. An 18-karet solid gold toilet created in 2016 that you could indeed use. It wasn't a piece of work that was displayed in the middle of a gallery in a glass case, unlike Fountain, it was in fact in a cubicle in the toilet. This was quite literally a piece of artwork that you could interact with.

This £4.8 million toilet was all fun of games to use, until the night it was stolen. I'm not sure what it is with Cattelan and his works being stolen or destroyed, sometimes both at the same time, but frequent misery follows with his works. The good news that came with this; the artist actually made three golden toilets. Perhaps he knew that this was going to happen, after all, you can't trust the Brits.

In other forms of Meme culture in the art world, we also have literal memes, blown onto small canvases and displayed in art galleries. This is Nothing Conceptual, works by Jesus Bubu Negron; a collection of memes that were created just for his friends. However, he ended up getting the opportunity to display them all in a gallery.

They're what I consider to be a very classic meme. Classic as in when they began to rise in popularity online in the early 10's. The artist says that submitting a collection of works to a gallery is like posting a video on YouTube and it going viral. These videos are typically going to be something out of the ordinary and something that is funny. It takes something absurd to get the attention of so many people across the world and I think this is something this body of work does so well. I would love for it to be a more common thing where you walk into a gallery and it is a carefully selected body of memes, all brought together in a gallery space to tell its own story.

Now, memes are easier to access than ever before. They're in your local gallery, they're on your Facebook as you scroll through your feed, they're even posted by tabloids on a YouTube live stream (goodbye Liz Truss. 2022-2022).

They really can be used for everything. Even for things as extreme as hate speech. Remember Pepe? The much loved disappointed frog that had a reaction image for literally any situation ever.

He started off as this little guy. Harmless. He was a character designed by Matt Furie in his comic series from 2005. Pepe began to circulate when Furie illustrated an image of Pepe pulling his pants down to have a wee and the image went around 4Chan with a caption that says 'feels good man'. Anyway, fast forward a few years, people begin creating images of Pepe looking distraught, captioning it with 'feels bad man'. This of course, became very popular within the 4Chan community. Katy Perry, Nicki Minaj and even Donald Trump (???) have all posted memes on their social medias, using images of Pepe. Pepe began to be used as a hate speech meme for the alt-right after Trump chose to Tweet himself as a Pepe. He gassed it up and within a week, tabloids were classing Pepe as a 'popular white nationalist symbol', I mean isn't that insane? Dudes literally a little frog. The whole hate speech concept went so far that his original creator, Furie decided to kill off Pepe to get people to stop displaying and creating him in such a way. But what are you supposed to do when your beloved cartoon is suddenly being redrawn as Adolf Hitler and the KKK? I guess you've gotta draw Pepe in a coffin and tell everyone that he died so he can't be used as a symbol for anything anymore.

The point is, memes can and will be used for anything. For good and for bad. They started off way before the human race even became aware of what a meme was and they've developed so far ever since. Harmless fun memes are the way to go, but I'm also sure it won't be the last time that we become exposed to a character or an image that spins so far out of control that it becomes an image of something that is out of your wildest dreams.

I think I'll choose to carry on with my silly little shitposting on Instagram. At the end of the day, even if I wanted to, I can't post anything offensive online because all of my work managers follow me.

To finish off, here are a few of my fave memes.

#art review #writing #memes #liz truss #pepe the frog #marcel duchamp #r mutt #maurizio cattelan #jesus bubu negron #gigi hadid #liam payne #andrew tate #sonic #the rock #breaking bad #neon genesis meme

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