#ive been hot for this man since i was like 12 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

If you dial 1-866-584-6757, you can leave an audio post for your followers.

#ive been hot for this man since i was like 12

iznsfw · 3 months

Text

Reputation, Or Whatever That Is

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut

7,063 words

Categories | daddy kink, brat!Wonyoung, squirting, blowjob, please appreciate Wonyoung's power bottom capabilities

Sorry, Yena is coming out sometime but I wanted to finally write something timely. JANG WONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCKKKKK.

Please bear with the religious metaphors, I have Catholic guilt and Wonyoung reignites it. I'm not sorry for all the other fucked up shit here I'm just ooga boogaing because what the FUCK

It’s a little brighter today than usual. The sun surely knows what's about to happen upon its rising. It has no plans of telling you beforehand, so you’re forced to find out yourself.

You open Instagram, which is insane because you never bother to look at pictures—much less edited, filtered ones made for meaningless impressions. Your blissful ignorance of online concepts is what would make your fans hate you if they had space in their deluded hearts to. Or maybe that’s your age talking.

But today, clicking on that app is what you do, and that already should have been a sign that something’s not right. The usual run of your universe has gone off course. Who could have made that so?

Coffee. The black stillness that’s pure of sweetness and sugar. That’s supposed to keep everything normal. You sip on it as you scroll through clickbait, fan accounts, edits—

Then you wish you never took that hot gulp at all.

Wonyoung.

It’s all because of her.

She stands there from behind your screen, silky hair tangled in those lithe long fingers. She’s looking at the camera like she wants whoever took the time to click on her profile to come over and fuck her right now. Man or woman, poor or rich—it doesn’t matter. What ought to matter though is the fact that she doesn’t have someone’s hands slipped around her waist and pulling her close.

You shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

Usually, she’s dressed in knitted pink coats and miniskirts; looking fashionable but modest, modest but unplain. That’s what everyone loves about Jang Wonyoung: she’s prim, sweet, and the daughter of the nation.

Now, she’s the ideal girl to take right home and have your wicked way with. Yes, you’d feel guilty since she’s so young, just the little age of nineteen. Still, that doesn’t mean you’d have any regrets. She’s the kind of girl you can’t get away from. You’ll always come back for more.

You’d hate to be so upfront, but there’s no other way to interpret it.

There’s that fucking denim bra hugging her tiny chest, stitched up so high that her abs are on full display. That little pinch of a waist curves so perfectly right up to her wide hips that invite and invite and invite—

Remember to exhale.

So, yeah. That’s how Wonyoung ruined your day, and you barely had your morning coffee.

A text message from your boss appears. You nearly miss it because of how you’re staring all ogle-eyed at the tempting girl on your screen. Before you even click it, you already know what you ought to do.

hey, it reads, you need to—

—go to Wonyoung, and for such a scandalous photo, she’s chosen a remote but classy hotel only the biggest stars know of to shoot it.

There’s no going back when you drive like you’re running from the law when you’ll break one if you pull the wrong stunt with her. Your throat’s coiled with an unreleased breath that won’t go away unless you see her. It’s like traveling with the promise of meeting a goddess, and although you’re not religious anymore, you wear very, very close to rediscovering faith.

The hotel is grand—clear marble floors and shining chandeliers—and it’s no surprise. Wonyoung wouldn’t have things any other way. You know that when she’s come to your office to complain about her outfits and brands.

You go up to the desk with prepared evidence for what you’re going to say. “I’m an associate of your client miss Jang Wonyoung,” you say to the lady tapping away behind her computer, “and I’ve come to visit her.”

Associate? It’s more like mentor. You’re a veteran idol whose efforts inspire the rookies, therefore getting you the responsibility of looking out for Wonyoung. So, father figure, maybe? You wince at that.

She makes a polite sad look, still not removing her eyes from the screen. “I’m sorry, miss Jang doesn’t have—”

Slide your ID card on the counter.

She glances at it, stiffens, then looks up at you. There’s only one of you in the entire South Korea, and although the 1x1 traces back to when you were a bit more youthful, it’s not hard to put two and two together.

She apologizes quickly and offers you an elevator ride exclusive for VVIPs. Smile. It’s been a while since your last return to music, but everyone knows you here. Everyone knows your power.

Wonyoung’s place is the first room on the twelfth floor, a flinching irony.

Knock. You rap your knuckles three times for good luck and charm, because you’ll need it with her. Jang Wonyoung is everything save an easy girl. You remember the many times she refused to give up a debate on how she’s managed, how she’s styled, how she’s treated. She wants things to go her way only.

“Wonyoung,” you call out. Fidget with the handle of the door that refuses to budge. “It’s me.”

Knock a little more. There’s no eye behind the peekhole or a soft “come in.” You receive only the unlocking of the furnished knob and a welcome that makes you wish this could go the way your morals would want it to go.

The door opens you to a gorgeous suite that’s the supreme of all room tiers. This is the kind that only the richest of the rich are able to attain. Big as a house with a soft carpeted ground, there’s a queen-sized bed before a wide window of the city. Picture frames commissioned by the wealthy hang from the painted walls. All for the fucking aesthetic.

Even you, a star who paved the way for the Korean entertainment industry itself, aren’t used to this type of wealth.

Find her sitting on the ledge of the window frame. Wonyoung has her hands resting on the sides of the window frame. She doesn’t try at least a stance at nonchalance—no admiring stare at the beautiful view, no worried gaze at her clean fingernails. Her interest is you standing before her like you’re afraid to touch her. She might be right, but it’s not like you’d ever have it in you to admit that.

Even you, a man lusted over by girls and women all over the world, aren’t used to this kind of woman—the kind that eats away at you.

“Wonyoung.” Inside, you feel like the weakest man in the world.

She has this smarmy, confident smile on her perfect lips that tells you that it’s no surprise that you’ve come all the way here for her. No surprise at all. She expected it. Anticipated it, if you will.

Don’t mistake the coquettish float of her lashes for theatrics. No, Jang Wonyoung’s just naturally someone you’d want to fuck, no matter the politics of it. “Yes?”

Her voice is also just that pretty. That’s a large part of why it’s so hard to act professional in front of her when she’s your mentee. Even more so by the fact you’re someone she’s looked up to for the majority of her trainee years, which is already something that would make people’s brows lift.

“Wonyoung.” You let your shoulders rest. “Why are you still dressed like that?”

You know all the dialogue that passes around the general public. Oh, Jang Wonyoung’s so gorgeous! Jang Wonyoung’s even more beautiful in real life! You hate to say you can’t disagree. She’s deadlier in person; her body’s there before the glass like she’s waiting for someone to give in to temptation. That coy simper can ruin careers. It can ruin yours.

To think it all could be gone because of a nineteen-year-old celebrity with a tiny waist and legs you’d love to have around your head.

“Why are you still dressed like someone from the eighties?” Wonyoung taps her chin, then grins. She’s figured it all out. “Oh wait, you are.”

You’re not taking insults from someone who’s below you in experienced years and power. Unluckily, she’s not taking advice from someone above her or below her.

The step you take towards her, towards the little star seated comfortably waiting for you, feels like a sin.

“You’re incredibly unprofessional for a girl who’s worked her way up here,” you note. Cross your arms and give her a reprimanding look.

Wonyoung’s immune to nasty looks, too. She’s been doing this since she was a child. If someone gave her a glare that read all too well of a career assassination, she’d wink the bullet away sweetly. “Hm,” she says contemplatively, “I don’t think you get to say that, honestly.”

Your laugh is blunt and sarcastic. Unbelievable. Wonyoung’s the kindest girl according to the people who work for her, so why is she a rebel in your hands? It doesn’t make sense.

“Look here, we—”

You take three steps closer to her. You’ll keep your little rituals and superstitions to keep yourself grounded. Without them, you’d go insane.

Then without her having to do anything, she comes nearer, like a doomsday foretold by a ticking clock. Who knows? That clock could be a bomb, and that bomb would set off if you dare to touch her with a trembling fingertip. You’d leave the scene injured. And eventually, you’d die the moment they try to help you, because the deed’s been done.

“Oh, I’m looking, alright,” she chirps. She’s doing what you’ve held yourself back from doing: letting her eyes wander. “And I really, really like what I see.”

You’re someone several awards her senior, and you’re still quite intimidated by her at this moment. She’s so sweet yet so honest—she won’t make up a lie to make you feel better and she won’t hide the truth to make you comfortable. Refuse the truth her eyes locked on your crotch tell. You won’t accept it. It’s not right.

“I’m serious.” Approaching her makes you want to go on your knees and beg the lord for a little saving. Do it anyway. No one will rescue you. That’s what the industry taught you. “You’ve made it all the way up here. All by yourself. There’s gotta be something. What are you throwing it all away for?”

She laughs. Funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m not. How am I throwing it all away?”

“Those posts,” you hiss. Doesn’t she get it?

Before she could ask you what you’re talking about, you whip out your phone. Click on the app icon. It instantly shows you the opened tab containing Wonyoung’s recent Instagram posts. Look at her, wrapped in nothing, not even those curtains—giving the camera bedroom eyes when girls her age shouldn’t be shooting them at anyone or be aware of how to.

It’s already massed a million likes in under an hour. But you know what people who turn on anyone easily will say, and what they say could blot Wonyoung’s bright future by a lot. A million people around the world have caught sight of the abs she’s worked hard for, her toned back, and just about everything. A loud minority with frisky influences can sabotage her whole reputation.

“These posts,” you continue, shoving the screen into the poor girl’s face, “can take away everything you’ve worked for. All that fame, all that money, you can’t brag about them after this.”

Wonyoung looks on innocently. She stares at the screen with uninterested eyes, then switches them back on you. She looks like such a good girl in that second, with her hands seated beside her and that face so full of sparkling perfection.

Deception can’t lead you away.

“So, what’s it gonna be, Wonyoung?”

Long silence that builds up your frustration. Finally, she clicks her tongue. Gives you a shrug of her thin shoulders.

“You liked it.”

“What?”

She points to your phone. “You liked my post,” she repeats. “It says so right there.”

What the hell is she talking about?

You look at the device you’re brandishing. For a while, you can’t find out what she’s referring to. You can never take a liking to her posts, although if they switch on something you didn’t know you can feel. You’d die before—

The heart.

Wait.

The heart button below her set of pictures is filled with red.

Your heart pumps faster, a button pushed and played.

Fuck.

You turn to her and open your mouth. No sensible words come out. You swear you didn’t tap twice on her update or take it to a private setting. How did it happen? Worse, even if you say that to her, she’d take it as a pathetic lie.

Wonyoung giggles. It’s a tinkly sound that’s adorable, but you’ve long realized that being cute is not all there is to her. She rises slowly, sets her palms over your blazer-clad arms, and gives you an empathetic face. It’s so condescending that you want to dissolve.

“I know what men like you are all about,” she tells you. She speaks with a sultriness that makes you feel warm and has bumps appearing in masses across your skin.

She smiles. Her eyes disappear into crescent moons and the dimple appears on her cheek. You’re done for.

“Come on,” Wonyoung continues, squeezing your forearms. “Here you are, a big old man known for being a good singer or whatever. You’re so popular that the first thing that pops up on Naver is your face. Everything goes right for you, doesn’t it?”

You have no idea where she’s going with this. You’re afraid to even ask. Your teeth grit as her massages grow stronger, harder.

Something else is, too.

“Then, of course, you see me.”

Her hand. It’s curling around your wrist and bringing your fingers right around that flawless waist. She closes them there tightly.

It’s so bad that it’s good. You want to keep touching her, maybe slip your gliding fingers down her jeans. Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t.

“You see me, and you get all hot and bothered. And what’s so funny is I’m not even doing anything. I’m just being myself, you know. Being young and rich… a beautiful girl…” Wonyoung is unbuttoning your shirt and you don’t realize it. “You can’t understand how I’m allowed to be this hot when you can’t even fuck me with a normal conscience.”

It’s all so wrong. You want to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to shut up. But if Medusa has her eyes, Wonyoung has her lips to turn you to stone. They keep opening elegantly to speak the filthiest, most fucked up shit, and you can’t deny anything.

Her eyes are creased with knowing pride. Her youth doesn’t rescue her from being so messed in the head already. Those thoughts don’t go along with such a pretty face.

“That’s why you like to get rough with me. You tell me to watch how I speak, watch how I act. You tell me to stop talking to you like you’re no one. You tell me that I’m such a little brat. But you only do that so you can get to control me. That’s your most fucked up dream, right?”

Her mouth is the tiniest space away from your chin.

You’re another word away from saving yourself a spot in damnation.

Her finger that scratches a flaw on your blazer beckons you to the fire. “You’re not breaking the law or anything,” says Wonyoung, “so why not break me instead, daddy?”

That’s a deal sealed with a rough kiss.

You grab her cruelly and cover her lips with yours. They’re more amazing than you imagined, soft and competent with how she pushes in deeper, depriving herself of the air she needs the most just to get what she needs just a bit more:

You.

Your tongues collide and clash, striving to get the most taste. She pulls your blazer off (because fuck professionalism, right?) while she kisses you with a hunger that’s equally mental and physical. It’s not like she’d bruise up if you didn’t get your hands on her yet it’s close to that.

And, in your case, it’s not like you’re breaking any law. She’s nineteen, not anywhere under the limits you’d kill others and yourself for touching. Nonetheless, you’re much older—by age, she could be your daughter; by career, she’s your junior; by power, you’re much stronger.

So, it’s still so wrong.

Can’t be when Wonyoung’s fist, firm around your cock, feels so right.

Can’t be when she lands on the edge of the bed with her lips parted in delight as she watches your dick stiffen under her service.

“There you go, daddy,” she coos, smirking. “Just get all hard for me, then you can stuff that big thing up in my pussy.”

Her thumb toys with your cockhead. You purse your lips to hold back a groan. Let go of it anyway when her smooth, closed palm rubs your sensitive flesh. She cups your balls lovingly before gliding her teasing fingertips under your length, right up to your tip. The girl knows how to do this; she’s good at more things other than MCing and performing.

Wonyoung hones this skill with firmer pumps, giving you the handjob of a lifetime. Her long fingers are just made to handle dick. Each stroke is perfection that holds and pulls and slides. You’re leaking so much already.

So you turn into the driver of the hate train, the press that loves getting her bad angles and the articles that slash up her name:

Blame it all on her.

Because you have here a girl, young and pretty and confident, so of course you have to scrape off your sins and nail them all on her, like a quivering hand to wood.

“You think you’re getting it that easily?” you say. Your moan is squeezed in your throat. “Baby, you’re not even close to it.”

Wonyoung smirks. It’s that self-assured, elegant smile that tells you that won’t work on her. She might be a rookie, but she knows how to play the game.

She tightens her grip painfully. That’s what you get for trying to one her up. Do that to anyone, just not Jang Wonyoung. Your cry goes unheard as she yanks you rather than jerks you off. Spits on your head for good measure. Wonyoung’s eyes make a connection with your soul and says, Yep, that’s what I’d do if you weren’t my senior. In fact, I’d do it regardless. I’d choke and spit and leave you to die, because a pretty Samaritan is better than a good one.

“You’re really out of touch, daddy.”

With Wonyoung slathering her drool all over you, you’re forced to teeter on the line between heaven and hell. It burns yet the offer of pleasure leaves you sated.

“You think I’m like the pretty girls out there? Other girls might have broken down and begged you to come back.”

Your rod is subjected to a brief torrid kiss, then a smile as the wicked girl looks up at you.

She laughs, gives you this smile full of haught and womanly power. “Too bad I’m Jang Wonyoung,” she says, her last words before taking you in.

Yes, it’s too bad she’s Jang Wonyoung. It’s too bad she’s not the other girls who’d kneel for a burning touch of stars like you. She wouldn’t be holding control over you with the power of her lips if she had sanity in that pretty head.

Her plump tiers wrap around you and seize everything, encasing it in softness and wetness. Her tongue, the one she uses as a killer expression for her selfies and Instagram updates, kills you all the same with how it swirls around your skin and tastes you. Trying to pretend the girl wasn’t a pro at this like she is with everything else is useless. She’ll keep proving you wrong and overpowering you.

The whole of your shaft is sucked in, then, when her cute nose is pressed directly to your stomach, she lets out a hummed laugh. You shudder—as much as it makes you feel good, fear grips your muscles and makes them limp. She’s loving how wrong everything is, and you’re not sure if you like it.

Her jaw slacks, and then Wonyoung’s swallowing you like you’re water. Can’t be water when you’re this solid in her throat. You let out a shivering groan. You can picture the bulge in Wonyoung’s neck and it’s the last thing you’d count on turning you on, but they did tell you to expect the unexpected.

Her saliva becomes excessive, resulting in some dribbles down her chin that help her work her mouth on you. Wonyoung’s drool sheens you entirely and she keeps adding more. On the occasion she pushes her face into your stomach, your cock gets wetter. She does, too.

“Fuck.” Cussing won’t help deter the onslaught of pleasure. You’re unsalvageable. Say it anyway. You babble meaningless, slurred words and not one gets to Wonyoung. All she can hear is the sound of your quivering moans and her mouth taking you all in.

She becomes less of an idol, less of the elegant princess for the cameras, and instead a fleshlight. However, she reminds you that it isn’t that way with a fierce sneer that stays on at all times. She’s not your girl—she’s Jang Wonyoung, and you’re already incredibly lucky that she chose to go down on you.

All that beautiful hair isn’t of any purpose if you don’t get to touch it, to gather it in a ponytail, to pull on it. Your fingers creep into her brown locks not only to give it a little meaning but also for sanity.

That isn’t a thing in Wonyoung’s world. She pulls your hand off and slaps it on your side. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Daddy can’t touch me, not when he’s pretending that he’s hot shit.”

Her nails bury themselves in your hips. Oh, the manicured talons of a gorgeous monster. Oh, the pain that runs through your sides. Should you run before she devours you? Too late for that.

“Wonyoung,” you breathe, and then ask, genuinely: “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She’s so proper and serene on her shows that not even her most desperate fan would think she’s a terror. They don’t know she’s a girl who likes older, weaker men who’d ruin her if she hasn’t the pretty face and attractively black heart to do them the favor instead.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You’d respond if you knew the answer.

Wonyoung rubs her thumb under your dick, sending little sparks aflying. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?” Her lipstick decorates it as a kinder girl would to your face. “Why didn’t you grab my hair and tell me to be a good girl? Why didn’t you leave? It’s not my fault you want to fuck me.”

All these words of destruction and your cock remains standing. It’s a staunch reminder to her that you can say whatever you want and the hard evidence remains. You want to fuck Wonyoung. You want to do it to a rookie who’d turn the story around on you if it ever came out. You want to fuck her so bad it’s borderline pitiable.

“I’m just giving you what you want, daddy.” Her fingers caress your sides. “Trust me, I could be a very good girl if I wanted to.”

You almost didn’t believe that until Wonyoung started to suck you off again.

Her lips stroke you effortlessly as if this were her pastime. That’s your most accurate guess, because this seamless performance—the one of her mouth working on you with the impression that this whole thing is nothing to her—can’t be a natural gift. The combination of dripping saliva and her soft lips is lethal.

It’s unbelievable how she manages to find all your tender spots. She preys on them, licking and licking until you’re very sure you were going to blow all over her. But you can’t give her that satisfaction.

You’re very close to doing so though. She’s perfectly sloppy and rough. You glare at her when she lightly teases her teeth on your girth. She winks at you in response. She leaves you breathless in so many ways.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, god—” you whine. It’s so hard to adapt to the girl sitting there with that innocent face and wild mouth that doesn’t dare give up on you.

Her expressions on camera are always poised. Off camera, there’s this one she flashes you as she shoves her face into your stomach that looks downright evil. Although she’s already fucking you with her throat, Wonyoung partners it with strong suction that’s sure to drain you.

“Yes, daddy?” She doesn’t pant when she goes up for air, replacing her sucking with her long fingers.

“I’m really close,” you admit. It’s obvious from your shaking legs.

Sounds of returned wet suction start to increase. Criticism and compliments prod Wonyoung on. How else would she improve in her idol life? In blowing you? In devouring you?

You realize you’re fitting the cliché. There’s you, an idol whose name is uttered on the daily by both young and old fans, igniting a scandal in the making by fucking a girl beneath you in everything. There’s this expensive suite where stars go for a little precious privacy to do what they want. There’s the two of you doing exactly what you desire: fucking each other. There’s the classic maneater trope with how it’s more like Wonyoung fucking you—she fucks you with her face, fucks you in the head, fucks with your righteousness. Well, fuck.

Wonyoung drools so much that you’re invited to a sea the moment your head pushes past her tongue again. It’s slicker, sloppier, and so much sexier because she’s so completely devoted to your cock. Her hypnotizing eyes trap you and so does her body, tight and tiny—that tummy is flatter than a board and only thin panties hide what her long legs lead to from the bottom.

The only time she stops sucking you is when she darts her tongue side to side with an unhinged pace on your sensitive tip. “Good. Cum in my throat.”

“Shit, god, I can’t—”

Wonyoung attacks you again, and there, in her warm orifice, your plentiful orgasm spends itself. Her throat welcomes you tightly every time. Her hot restricted breaths fan your groin and evokes more semen that spills with no care.

Your hands ball into fists. Although you’re hot and shaking, you can’t touch her. Why are you following her rules when it should be the other way around? It’s a reversal of roles, a Stockholm’s Syndrome of some sorts whose victim is your cock never wanting to leave from the predatory embrace of Wonyoung’s puckered kiss.

Of course, after she gathers all of your cum in the pool of her mouth, she swallows.

She really could be a good girl.

“Awh.” Wonyoung pouts mockingly. “Daddy, are you crying?”

Touch your face. To your horror, she’s right. The electricity and shock of her continuous blowjob results in a few tears on your cheeks. You haven’t done that in years. Wonyoung is the first one to make you cry like this.

You flush. What more to hide your weakness than anger? “Wonyoung,” you start, then you realize you don’t know what to say, “I—you—”

She smiles. You aren’t going anywhere.

She shoves you to the bed. You’ve reached rock bottom in spite of the softness of the quality pillows. You’ll scrape your way out if not for Wonyoung finishing the job by keeping you there assisted by her legs. They close around you with not even a courtesy false promise of an escape. No negotiation, no coaxes.

Wonyoung is sitting on your crotch but not on your dick, which is a problem. Which is a solution. Her hands are pinned to your chest while you try not to meet her eyes. It’s a losing game when your runaway glances are met by her grinding hips, silky thighs, and the hard, flexing abs of a perfection of a midriff.

Her fingers tug on the waistband of her panties before slowly slipping them off. Her pink pussy clear of blemish or hair comes in contact with your length. Up and down she goes, her dancing hips always seeking for more friction. You understand their need because you share the same—Wonyoung’s splayed lips on your member feel heavenly. It’s kind of disappointing that she might as well have climbed her way out of hell.

If she did, she’s the prettiest little devil you’ve ever seen.

“Ohhh, don’t you get it?” Wonyoung asks. She moves so smoothly, you nearly forget she’s humping you rather than dancing. Her soft moan brings you back. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, and you’re melting; it sounds so seductive and innocent in the same breath.

You know her. She knows you. So it’s clear: Jang Wonyoung can be anything—supermodel, actress, dancer—but she cannot ever be innocent.

Her gorgeous voice is silky when it twists into moans and gasps. Looking down at your crotches meeting and swaying is a better show than end-of-the-year performances. The blowjob and commanding you around must have turned her on by a lot—her flesh is hot and wanton with juices as it slides up and down you.

“You’re not going anywhere, daddy!” Wonyoung giggles. She kisses your nose, then your chest until her lipstick marks you. You burn up with feverish lust after each peck. “Daddy is only Wonyoung’s. And I knew your perfect cock would be mine when I posted those pics. I know men like daddy would do anything for me.”

“Wonyoung.” Breathe again, because you’ll need to after this, so why not do it now? “Why are you doing this?”

You thought her flirtatiousness in your office was just her coyness coming out to play. She’d rest her chin on your desk, suck a red lollipop on some days, maybe run her fingertips over your knuckles. Day in and out, she plays the same game. You didn’t know it would reach this level.

“Because I want to mess you up, daddy,” Wonyoung says. Her tongue swipes at the cavern of your mouth right until she nibbles at your lower lip. Her lipstick peppers your face. “I want to fuck my daddy up so bad he’ll never go a day without thinking of me.”

Swallow. The friction of your sexes is driving you crazy and close to the edge. All the same, you don’t want to make a fool of yourself cumming early for Wonyoung.

What happened to your dynamics? Your relationship? There wasn’t a romantic one, but it was always you holding the reins professionally and her just being an insistent passenger. Now she’s wrapping that rein around your neck and claiming you for her own. Looks like you have control everywhere excluding the bed.

“That’s it?” you ask. Shut your eyes—just seeing her grind on you with her utterly wet cunt can make you bust. “Your career doesn’t matter to you?”

“I could say the same thing to you.” Wonyoung lifts herself up and flashes that wicked smile again. “But I want to feel this in me before you wimp out.”

You and Wonyoung fall down a bottomless hole of consequence and wrongs but Wonyoung makes sure to bottom out the first time she sits on your dick. She engulfs you whole and traps you there with her soaked, grippy walls that slide all the way down.

You’d say her pussy has a vise grip, holding onto you like all goes wrong if it didn’t, except you think it has the grip of a vice. Need for her juices that coat you replaces the need for alcohol. Even if you get out of this suite alive, (which is a low possibility), you can see yourself always coming back for more. You could be addicted to anything—smoking, eating, cheating—but it just so happened your vice is Wonyoung.

“Daddy!” she yelps, and from there you can’t count the times she slams her cute butt down your thighs. “Oh my god, daddy!”

Her dainty, cute yells make you throb inside her. Perhaps it’s the kittenish quality of it that turns you on so much. She sounds so appealing, so fucking ruinable that it’s surprising to see that she’s doing the ruining here. Her expression in bed is more animated than the ones she makes onstage—her nearly closed eyes look upwards while her mouth falls open.

The squeeze of her tight, wet cunt renders your knees weak. It’s a good thing you’re lying down. Wonyoung makes sure you stay that way by penetrating herself with you over and over again. Her being barely a weight on you doesn’t stop you from lying there uselessly. You know better by now not to challenge her, not when each time you enter her vagina is better than the last. Her pussy is slippery and tight, proving to be the smallest and the best fit for your shaft simultaneously. Her hole is too tight and too good.

“Is this all for me, daddy? Huh?” Wonyoung circles her hips, making you moan, then continues her up-and-down movements. “You’re so hard, you naughty daddy. I know you got a b-boner when you looked at my posts. Now I’m giving you another one.”

You always thought of Wonyoung as justifiably confident yet arrogant. She told you once at your desk that she doesn’t deserve a stylist who only has a four-star rating. She lamented about the lack of competence of her staff preparing her comeback stage. All those you turned down to give the topics of her complaints the benefit of the doubt, but you know she’s right. She doesn’t deserve less when she’s better than the best. She doesn’t deserve less when she knows her place: a royal throne. So you can’t deny that she’s too hot to handle, undiscriminating to you whose connections always have impossibly beautiful women somewhere in there.

She’s so hot that her small breasts bouncing from behind that denim bra and tube top looks appealing. She’s so hot that the heat between her legs grows wetter. She’s so hot that when her soft ass crashes down on you again, you don’t find it a repetitive bore.

She’s so hot that you’d let the slim, tall girl use you until dusk turns to dawn, even if the curtains behind her are drawn apart and the secret cameras get to snap a photo.

“Shit, Wonyoung,” you say, your core squeezing. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“I bet you’ve thought about this, daddy. You thought that one night, I’ll be so bad that you could book us a whole hotel and fuck me in all the rooms, just like this one. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“You wanted to open my legs and use my little pussy all day long, huh? Until I’m yours to throw around and do whatever?”

“Y-yes.” Nod. Your face twists—she shouldn’t speak when she’s fucking you because all the filth she says makes you want to blow inside her already. It’s the kind of truth that arouses rather than hurts.

Wonyoung’s riding switches to a rapid intensity that makes you yell. She lets you in so deep to the point that her butt cheeks touch your heavy balls. She’ll drain them for sure; the pace she sets is terrifyingly quick. It seems that she becomes tighter after each bounce, and it’s not helping you hold out at all.

Watch the wildness in Wonyoung’s eyes become animalistic. It makes you all the more certain now of one solid fact: there is something seriously wrong with Jang Wonyoung.

She smirks. “Well, you got it wrong. I’m not all yours, daddy.” She leans down, resting her palms on your shoulders. “You are all mine.”

Her hands might as well be a chained collar waiting to close around your neck. Her devilish simper is supposed to scare you, not turn you on. Somehow, it does both.

She flicks back her hair as she sits up again. Through it all, her riding doesn’t stop. “This cock?” she asks before slamming her pussy down it with a different kind of ferociousness. Cry out but she shuts you up with a furious kiss. “It’s gonna be my dirty secret. I’ll always go to daddy after my schedules so I can make him cum—over and over again.”

To think that a young girl like her has you at her beck and call is laughable, but there’s no laughing now. As you stare at Wonyoung’s fluid body and her hair bouncing beautifully, you realize she actually can have you for herself. It only took one Instagram post to lure you to her. She sees you’re falling deeper and deeper for her.

She didn’t exactly tell you how to escape.

“You gonna cum, daddy? Is my perfect pussy milking you?”

You can do nothing except nod.

“Of course, I can feel you throbbing, i-it’s making me lose it,” gasps Wonyoung. Her whines are making you lose it yourself. “Let’s cum together, okay? You can only cum when you feel Wonyoung squirt all over your massive cock.”

She squeezes tighter on top of you when she reaches down to rub her clit. She’s in search of any kind of stimulation: the slap of her ass on your thighs, the upward shoves of your erection, the pulse of her clit. Her moans increase in their whiny girlishness. Their tender vulnerability makes you think she should be the one underneath your body though you’re aware that’s never going to happen. Wonyoung belongs on top, just the same with her name in first place in the list of brand reputation rankings, browser searches, followers.

Once upon a time, you took charge over her. You managed her lessons, her videos, her behind-the-scenes duties. Funny how it’s the opposite now, wherein she jounces on you freely with the domineering message of caution: don’t cum until she does.

And god, is she making that hard. Everything about her is so attractive, from the bounce of her hair to her midriff showing your entering cock to her pretty pink pussy clutching you. What gets you, however, is her face—everyone loves looking at that face. Today, you’re under an aphrodisiac for it: you’re in love with the roll of her eyes as she rides you, the pink on her cheeks, the part of her lips.

“Fuck yes! Ugh, daddy, you feel so good inside me…” Wonyoung’s core clenches and slides your penis along its textured, sensitive walls. Her gasp is straight out of fantasies. “You’re balls deep, see? Look how your meat’s filling me. My pussy’s going to be so sore after this.” She chuckles. “Wait, who says we’re stopping?”

You shudder. You’re getting very close. Your earlier orgasm still has its effects on you. You’re afraid you’re going to do something you shouldn’t under her bedroom law. She’ll imprison you with her thighs and waterboard you with all the girl cum she promised until you confess that she’s the best fuck you ever had.

“Daddy’s going to cum so hard he’s probably going to breed me. Then I’ll, oh, I’ll feel it inside my tummy and it’s going to be a scandal. Wouldn’t you like that? Getting to knock up Jang Wonyoung? I can hear you moaning. I think you really like that. I think that’s why you’re thrusting up in me. You want to be a real daddy and make your baby girl a mommy. That’s so fucked up, you know that, right? You shouldn’t be having sex with me, let alone breeding me. But you’re a fucking weak old man, so of course you like that.”

You’re burning up. They’re the signs of what’s to come. If her confident words inspire her young fans, her monologues of lust make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world. Of course, the boner is part of the effect.

You groan. “Wonyoung, baby girl, please—”

“Oh god, daddy, I’m going to cum!” she squeals. Her emotions control her and tell her to go harder, bounce harder, squeeze harder. She’s pushing past her limits. “Agh, agh, you’re cumming, too, right? Cum for me. You’ll be—fuck, my daddy’s going to make me cum! I’m squirting all over his cock!”

She slams herself down roughly and repeatedly till your lower body’s flooded with her cum. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like dying because you swear you can see stars in the ceiling, stars of lust in her eyes. La petite mort. How poetic, since Wonyoung’s screaming still sounds as beautiful as her singing and speaking.

Her shouts are close to breaking the windows’ glass. Anyone can figure out what’s happening without the destruction of the pane—the curtains are wide open, letting the world see the youngest icon of the new generation pumping herself onto her co-worker.

You wonder if there’s actually poor watchers out there seeing you cream Wonyoung’s princess pussy, grab her ass to guide her, and kiss her when she leans down.

Wonyoung tastes the best when she’s squirting.

Consequences always catch up no matter what. You can hide under a cloak, in another country, underneath the earth in a secluded bunker and all that won’t help. You’ll be stuck dealing with the outcome, thorns from a rose you thought was too pretty to have some.

That’s the first thing you remember when you wake up, wrapped in the bed sheets and by Wonyoung’s arms. Someone’s calling you. Bad news: it’s your boss—the ringtone itself sounds angry, too.

“Hello?” you ask. You can’t help the grogginess of your morning voice, try as you may. If your boss didn’t know what happened, he can perfectly guess from the exhaustion riddling your greeting.

“You dumb little shit.” You can feel the spittle of your boss’ insult from miles away, cities away, screens away. “You’re lucky I’m friends with the fucking CEO.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t give me that. Some janitor saw you from the wing. I needed to hear it from you: did you fuck Jang Wonyoung?”

Unexpectedly, a veiny hand you remember holding something else grabs your phone. Wonyoung leans against your shoulder wearing nothing as she holds the phone to her ear.

“Why?” she quips, loud and clear. “Wouldn’t you?”

1K notes · View notes

sunsuns-babie · 3 months

Text

If I Get My Way {K.SUNOO x F!READER}

IN WHICH: Kim Seonwoo aka Sunoo is a Sophomore at Decelis University and has a crush on the pretty Music Education Major Y/n Marsh. Seems like a match made in heaven since he’s also a Music Education Major and has had a crush on her since Freshman year when he met her at orientation… well sort of. He’s a little delusional about her but that’s okay, right? When finally given the opportunity to get to know her and potentially date her some weird things start happening that Sunoo doesn’t quite understand… which leads to the postponement of his grand plan to confess his feelings for Y/n. At the end of the day does he get the girl or does he miss out and think of what could’ve been?

ALSO IN WHICH: Sunoo and Y/n’s friends also have their own storylines and side quest relationships happening simultaneously with theirs.

PAIRING: Kim Sunoo x !Female Reader (ft. Mystery Character 1 & Mystery Character 2)

GENRE: Non-Idol AU, College/University AU, SMAU

WARNING: Swearing, sexual jokes/comments, allusion to sexual activity, attempts at humor (I don’t think I’m funny but I’m trying), jokes about murder/killing oneself, and Danielle from NewJeans as the face claim.

FEATURING: Lee Heeseung (EN—), Jay Park (EN—), Jake Sim (EN—), Park Sunghoon (EN—), Yang Jungwon (EN—), NI-KI (EN—), Jang Wonyoung (IVE), Shin Ryujin (ITZY), Choi Yeonjun (TXT), Choi Soobin (TXT), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), Karina (aespa), NingNing (aespa), Huh Yunjin (LE SSERAFIM), Yoon Keeho (P1HARMONY), Anton Lee (riize), Hwang Yeji (ITZY), and mentions of various other idols.

status: temporarily put on hiatus

start: Feb. 12, 2024

end:

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and is in no way a real depiction of the idols portrayed in it and has no actual connection to their real world selves. I don’t know them I’m just using their image for characters in a fictional story.

A/N: This is my first SMAU ever I’ve written stories on other platforms in the past and kind of stopped to be a reader for awhile but I recently got an idea for a story and wanted to try and make it a reality. So please forgive me if it’s bad I’ll try my best to make it enjoyable for you. But I barely know how to work Tumblr as a creator or writer so forgive me if this is all over the place 😭😭😭.

A/N 2: If you want to be added to the taglist for this SMAU you can comment on this post or which ever chapter you see first!

INCOMING MESSAGES…

PROFILES: 2 HOT 4 U LONER BOYS CLUB (ft. 2 Baddies)

01: bitch boy

02: you’re not my mom

03: DDEONU GOOD!!!

03.5: bonus chapter 1

04: we going on a date 🤪

04.5: bonus chapter 2

05: free food + written part (755 wrds)

06: blasting Olivia Rodrigo traitor

07: Love changes a man ❤️❤️

07.5: bonus chapter 3

08: keeho is a furry confirmed ✅

08.5: bonus chapter 4 [written part] (1,304 wrds)

09: KILLING MYSELF [POSTPONED]

10: tba….

10.5: bonus chapter 5

11: tba…

12: tba…

13: tba…

14: tba…

15: tba…

16: tba…

17: tba…

18: tba…

19: tba…

20: tba…

138 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 1 year

Text

Love to Hate (Extra Scene IV: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place after the Epilogue of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. There is no corresponding scene from Y/N’s POV. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be many spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+

Warnings: some dirty talk, but not actual sex

Word Count: 4,605

“There’s no way that man is single.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean, look at him.” The woman behind Jungkook sighs. “A face like his? With a body like that? Wearing a suit that costs more than my rent? Yeah, no way someone hasn’t locked him down.”

A loud, jarring slurp signals the end of a drink. “I don’t know,” says the other woman. “I feel like that suit is the exact reason he has to be single. No guy that rich or hot would ever marry so young.”

Lifting his newspaper, Jungkook hides a smile. Seated outside the sole coffee shop in Terminal C, he’s been nursing his Americano for the better part of an hour. Jungkook’s own fault for arriving at the airport early. Your plane wasn’t scheduled to land until one, but he wanted to be here in case.

Jungkook can practically hear your laughter in his mind. “In case what?” you’d tease. “In case the plane has an extra engine to help break the sound barrier? Or multiple people parachute out, giving us an extra boost?”

“Both of those things,” Jungkook would answer with a straight face. You’d shake your head, amused at having married someone so ridiculous and –

Clearing his throat, Jungkook forces himself to focus. What’s ridiculous is the fact that he daydreams about his wife when you’ve only been gone for three days. Although that’s three days too long, in Jungkook’s unbiased opinion.

Giving up on pretending to read, Jungkook lowers the paper to pull his phone from his pocket. Searching the screen, he sees nothing but the text you sent twenty minutes ago.

Y/N: Landed 😘 see you soon! [12:54 PM]

Nothing since then, and Jungkook frowns as he pushes a hand through his hair.

“See,” hisses the same woman behind him. “No ring!”

“That’s his right hand, Lauren.”

“Oh.”

Stifling laughter, Jungkook drains the rest of his coffee to push himself to stand. Folding the newspaper under one arm, he pats the front of his suit jacket to check for his wallet. Satisfied, he turns and casually lifts a brow.

Both women do an admirable job of pretending they haven’t been staring for the past fifteen minutes. Clearing his throat, Jungkook waits for one to look up from their phone.

“Married,” he says, lifting a hand to display his wedding ring. “Happily so. Have a good day, ladies.”

With that, he turns to stride across the floor. As he leaves, Jungkook hears a groan of embarrassment followed by bursts of laughter. Tossing his paper into the recycling, Jungkook stops at the flight board to confirm your landing.

The board says your flight reached the gate fifteen minutes ago, which causes Jungkook to frown. Usually, you’re the first off the plane and have reached him by now. Turning around, Jungkook scans the baggage claim and wonders if you’re there. Unlikely. You don’t usually check a bag for a trip of three days.

Stepping away from the board, Jungkook narrowly misses being run over by a man on a scooter. He’s about to call your cell phone when a fresh wave of people walks from the exit. Hurrying in this direction, Jungkook peers through the crowd and immediately spots your red coat – hand-selected by Mia, your daughter.

Even at five years old, Mia is a force to be reckoned with. Her opinions tend to be law, much to your despair. Spoiled by her father, you’ve sighed and Jungkook doesn’t deny it. He can admit when he’s the guilty party.

Lifting a hand, Jungkook is about to wave when he notices your expression and falters. Usually, that look on your face means you’re about to explode. Slightly alarmed, Jungkook searches for the culprit and pauses on a man walking at your side.

Tall, dark haired and handsome. Oddly familiar, although Jungkook can’t pinpoint why.

Usually, it amuses Jungkook to no end when other people hit on you. He enjoys the quiet security in knowing you’ll (politely) turn them down and return to Jungkook. A fact he takes pleasure in reminding you of later that night, spread out beneath him while you writhe in pleasure.

This time is different though because this time, you’re not smiling. Jungkook watches while your jawline tightens, yet another indication of your clear discomfort. Wheeling your carry-on, you nod silently at something the stranger is saying.

The moment the crowd thins, you spot Jungkook and brighten. This immediate contrast makes Jungkook’s gaze harden, moving once more to the man by your side. There are few people in this world who could make you – his ferocious wife – uncomfortable, and all of them reside on his personal shit list.

Your walking companion notices Jungkook at the same time, slowing his steps until he comes to a halt. Still, he doesn’t leave and Jungkook stamps down annoyance while crossing the hall. Soon, he’s within hearing distance and what he does overhear makes his stomach drop.

“… it’s just been so long, Y/N. I barely recognized you! Imagine, if I’d taken that later flight – or, God forbid, been forced to ride in economy.”

“Imagine,” you say flatly. The look on your face could easily be misconstrued as pleasant but Jungkook knows you well enough to know you’re screaming inside.

His lips twitch as he nears since clearly, your walking partner doesn’t.

“I feel like it’s a sign,” the man says, moving closer. When he reaches for your arm, Jungkook stiffens. “Running into you after so many years, like this. I always felt that–”

Immediately, you yank your arm back. “You thought what?” you demand. “That I’d forget about everything you did, Kameron? That it’d all disappear? That I wouldn’t have moved on with my life by now?”

Kameron’s gaze darkens, dipping briefly to your left hand. “Is this about… him?” he asks, barely audible.

Forcing his feet to stop, it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself out of it. You’d never forgive Jungkook if he rode in on his white horse to save you. You’re more than capable of handling one shitty ex-boyfriend.

Because that’s who this man is and why Jungkook finds him familiar – this is Kameron, your ex and recently promoted CEO of Moore Holdings. Jungkook has actually met him once before, although that was before the two of you started dating. He disliked Kameron back then; a dislike which deepened to hate once he heard your backstory.

Hands clenched into fists, Jungkook concentrates on feeling the bite of his nails on his palms. At least, he does until you glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze with a pleading look. In a single stride, Jungkook has reached you and is extending his hand.

“Hello,” he says, waiting for Kameron to shake. With his other arm, Jungkook pulls you into his side. “Thank you for escorting my wife from her flight.”

You relax against him, and Jungkook’s barely contained anger bubbles beneath the surface. Your expression doesn’t shift, but Jungkook can feel the subtle change in your body. It’s the same way he feels whenever you stand beside him, offering support he didn’t know he needed.

One of Jungkook’s favorite memories is the time he ran into Liam Jessen at a conference and you politely told Liam you’d carve his eyeballs out with a spoon if he didn’t leave before lunch. He disappeared. Swiftly. Even Jungkook was chilled by your tone, and he swears up and down later that night was when your son, Jae, was conceived.

Narrowing slightly, Kameron’s gaze moves to Jungkook. He can practically see the wheels turning in your ex’s mind – the ring on your finger, his introduction as his wife – and gradually, Kameron’s expression tightens.

Jungkook lifts a brow. While you’re more than capable of handling people, Jungkook knows you haven’t seen Kameron since the night you broke up. Somehow, you managed to avoid meeting over the years – until now. Granted, that was years ago and you’ve moved on since then, but Jungkook knows better than others how some wounds can linger.

A lone muscle tics in Kameron’s jaw. “Hey,” he says, extending his hand to shake. “Kameron Moore. CEO of Moore Holdings.”

Gripping him tightly, Jungkook says, “Jeon Jungkook. Y/N’s husband and CEO of Jeon Energy.”

Jungkook sees your lips twitch, the way they always do when he introduces himself as your husband first. It’s true, though – Jungkook would sell his company tomorrow if it meant keeping you.

Hearing his name has the desired effect and Kameron’s eyes widen. He tries to withdraw his hand, but Jungkook holds on, squeezing even tighter before letting go.

Casual, he takes a step backwards and reaches for your bag. Wheeling this to one side, Jungkook taps his fingers against the handle.

It isn’t often Jungkook pulls the name card but in moments like this, his surname feels almost worthwhile. Despite meaning nothing to him, Jungkook knows the name Jeon means a lot to people like Kameron.

“I – oh.” For a moment, Kameron seems as though he swallowed something bitter. His gaze darts to you. “I didn’t realize… your name was Y/N Y/L/N on your boarding pass, so I just assumed…”

“You just assumed what?” Jungkook says calmly. “That her marriage was a sham? That she wore a wedding ring to deter people from hitting on her? Even if that were true,” he adds, his expression stony, “that’s awfully bold to assume such a rule wouldn’t apply to you.”

Kameron bristles. “Y/N and I have a history, if you must know.”

“Oh, he knows,” you say drily, answering for him. Turning to Jungkook, you place a hand on his Kiton suit. “I’ll take it from here, babe.”

Inclining his head, Jungkook takes a step backward. He’s pleased to see the fire returned to your eyes – admittedly, this signal bodes poorly for Kameron. Jungkook would feel bad for him if Kameron weren’t the reason for half your trust issues.

“My husband is right,” you say with a smile. “Even if my ring were fake, what makes you think I’d want to talk to you?”

Floundering slightly, Kameron opens and shuts his mouth.

“Exactly,” you say, not waiting for a response. “I was polite to you during the flight. I sat across the aisle even though I was uncomfortable. I even engaged in small talk after putting my headphones in. Never mind that I only slept for three hours to get home early for my family. I tried to be nice to you,” you insist, lifting a brow. “But clearly, that was futile.”

Jungkook can feel a smile spreading over his face. It’s in moments like these when he’s infinitely glad you two are on the same team. And that you mostly use your powers for the good of humanity.

“Let me make something perfectly clear,” you continue. “Even if I weren’t happily married with kids, I’d have no interest in seeing you. Our relationship isn’t something I look back on fondly. I would say I hope you’re doing well but really, I don’t. Moore Holdings is a predatory and shitty excuse for a company. I hope it goes under. Stay healthy, I guess,” you say with a shrug. Turning to Jungkook, you hold out your arm. “Shall we?”

Jungkook just nods, slipping his hand through your own to head for the doors. He doesn’t spare a backwards glance but is sure if he did, he’d find your ex-boyfriend left speechless. You tend to have that effect on people.

Gripping your carry-on bag, he wheels this towards the pick-up lane at Terminal C. Your driver is waiting, idling at the curb.

Stepping outside, you pause and tip your head back. “God,” you groan, before starting to laugh. “What a mess.”

Handing your bag to your driver, Jungkook steps closer and places his hands on your arms. Tugging you towards him, he watches your eyes open.

“Hey,” he says, smiling downward.

“Hi.” Softly, you return the gesture. “Can I just say you’re a sight for sore eyes? I was stuck with that asshole for five hours, listening to him brag about a conference he just spoke at for two hundred people.”

Jungkook can’t hide his smirk. “Little did he know, he was bragging to EnergyCon’s keynote speaker.”

You lightly scoff, but he can tell that you’re pleased. EnergyCon is the largest energy conference in the country and the site of your latest work trip. You led two days of seminars before finishing the week by giving the keynote address. Clean Ocean has never been a small organization, but recent successes have shot your message to the forefront of the industry.

Still, Jungkook scans your face for any sign of discomfort. Although you seem okay, he knows better than most how old scars can linger.

“I’m fine,” you say softly, reading his mind. “Promise.”

Giving a small smile, Jungkook steps back to open the car door. “You can’t blame me for worrying,” he says as you slide inside. “Are you sure? You don’t have to pretend.”

“I know,” you muse. “It’s strange, really. I’ve thought about it before – what I would say to Kameron if I ever saw him again.”

“Oh?” Following your lead, Jungkook shuts the car door. “And what was the plan? Fiery vengeance? Complete cold shoulder?”

Laughing a little, you set your purse down. Resting your head on the seat, you turn sideways to face him. Jungkook takes your hand again, unable to let go for too long.

“I thought about both,” you admit. “But then I saw Kameron, and everything flew out the window. Everything I’d planned to say seemed suddenly… silly isn’t the right word. Unimportant? There’s a part of me that will always be angry at him for what he did. And with myself, for letting him.”

Jungkook’s frown deepens when the car pulls from the curb. “I don’t think you let him do anything, Y/N.”

Thoughtful, you nod. “I guess. Anyways, Kameron started talking and it just became clear to me that he hadn’t changed. At all. Kameron cares so much about what others think of him. He needs validation from everyone, which is honestly exhausting. It just made me think that even if he hasn’t changed, I have. Which seems like a fitting ending.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk. “Plus, you know, you got to tell him his company was shit.”

At this, you let out a laugh. “Yeah, that was pretty great. Turns out, I’ve only matured to a point.”

“I like that point,” Jungkook says, using your hand to tug you closer. Draping your legs over his thighs, he removes your shoes to set on the floor. “I also don’t agree that maturity means always turning the other cheek. Sometimes, it means standing up for yourself. Or… for example, telling an asshole when they are one.”

Your laughter becomes a groan when Jungkook presses his thumb to the ball of your foot, and he glances to ensure the partition is up. Slumped against the leather seat, you squint at Jungkook in suspicion.

“What do you want?” you grumble.

He flashes an innocent smile. “What makes you think I want something?”

You struggle to sit up, failing halfway and sinking. “Because you’re using pressure points against me – oh,” you exhale when he kneads your foot.

Deftly, Jungkook continues to work on your arches. “Maybe what I want is for my beautiful wife to relax after her flight.”

You snort. “And?”

“And…” Jungkook pauses, then sighs. “How do you always know?”

“Call it mother’s intuition.”

“Unfair. All I got as a dad was bad hearing.”

“Don’t forget your vision,” you say helpfully. “That’s gotten worse, too.”

Jungkook shoots you a look that makes you giggle before pulling you closer. “Come here,” he growls, wrapping his arms around you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he exhales, “I missed you.”

He feels when you soften. “I missed you too, baby.”

A long moment passes, and then –

“But you’re not going to make me forget. What happened?”

Lips twitching, Jungkook pulls away. “Nothing happened,” he insists. “Or nothing bad happened. I may have forgotten to send Jason a birthday gift like you asked. I’ll send one tonight! As soon as we get home.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur, smoothing your thumb over his cheekbone. “I knew you’d forget, so I already sent one.”

Jungkook’s jaw drops.

Seeing his face, you start to laugh. “What?”

“Betrayal!” he blurts.

“You forgot!” you protest, lowering your head to rest on his shoulder.

“I know,” Jungkook huffs. “Very sneaky of you.”

“Jason would’ve been despondent if his favorite brother-in-law missed his birthday. I’m just trying to protect you, here.”

“I’m his only brother-in-law, babe.”

“Exactly. Doubly tragic if you forgot.”

Jungkook laughs, slipping two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your face to his. Brushing your lips with a kiss, he feels familiar heat spread down his spine. Your lips part beneath his, tongue flicking in a way that sends blood to his cock. Dropping his head, Jungkook begins to kiss down your throat.

When he bites down, you shudder and your hands fist in his jacket. Jungkook’s grip tightens on your waist when you moan his name. Returning to your mouth, he nips your lower lip before soothing it with a kiss.

“Jungkook,” you pant, gripping the base of his hair.

“Yeah?”

His hand roams your spine, relearning your body. Only three days and still, he’s missed you. Missed the sound of your sleep beside his, your laughter in the morning and wry looks exchanged over weird things the kids do.

Your exhale is shaky. “We should stop,” you murmur, gaze fixed on his lips.

Jungkook smirks. “Should we?”

“Yeah.”

“And why is that?”

“Because.” Torn, you glance forward. “We’re on our way to get the kids, and there’s no way we have time to do everything I want before then.”

Despite the situation in Jungkook’s pants, he’s forced to agree. As appealing as car sex sounds right now, Seokjin and Yoongi’s home isn’t far from the airport. Falling backwards, Jungkook exhales to blow hair from his face.

Laughing a little, you smooth the strands away. “Where are the kids, anyways?”

Eyes wide, Jungkook glances around the backseat. “Oh, shit. I knew I forgot something.”

“Ha-ha. The real answer?”

He chuckles. “They’re with Seokjin and Yoongi.”

Your brows shoot upward.

“Yoongi is the primary caretaker,” Jungkook assures. “Seokjin is more of… entertainment.”

“Perfect,” you sigh, returning your head to his shoulder. “I told Mia the type of karaoke machine Seokjin has only works in their neighborhood, but I don’t think she bought it. We might have to get her one for her birthday.”

Jungkook shakes his head, resting his hand on your knee. “She’s too smart for her own good, you know. Takes after you.”

“Sure does. Except Mia has a beautiful voice and I have the singing ability of a drunk walrus.”

“Are they known for their singing, or…?”

“Nope. Mustaches get in the way.”

Jungkook laughs, turning to press a kiss to your brow. “Later, though,” he murmurs, dropping his voice. “Once the kids are asleep, I plan to make up for these nights apart. Who knows? Maybe we’ll create that third kid we’ve talked about.”

Mischievous, you glance upward. “I don’t know… you’d have to put in some serious work for that to happen.”

Lifting a brow, Jungkook’s grip on you tightens. “I think I did a pretty good job of getting you pregnant with the first two.”

“Mm, but that was ages ago,” you sigh, head tipping backwards when Jungkook kisses your neck. “Back then, you were so young and spry. Now, you wear sensible shoes to the gym. Do you really think you have the stamina?”

“We’re in a moving vehicle,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “Which is the only reason I’m not fucking you to prove you wrong. Bet your pussy is wet just thinking about it, huh? Want me to spread these pretty legs and check, princess?”

Your breath hitches, chest rising and falling as his grip slides up your thigh. Jungkook brushes close to your center, maddeningly close and still not enough. Some people say desire diminishes with age and in some respects, Jungkook understands. That initial, frantic burst of sex diminishes but Jungkook doesn’t view it as a bad thing. That burst is replaced by trust, the knowledge that physical intimacy isn’t a replacement for intimacy of all kinds.

Not that the physical intimacy is gone, of course. That connection Jungkook feels when you touch him remains unchanged. A single look does more to turn him on than anyone else ever has.

Lifting a hand, you cup his jaw and scan his face. “Unfair,” you complain. “Unfair for you to get better-looking with age when you were already hot to start. You know, I overheard some moms at Mia’s preschool calling you a DILF the other day.”

Jungkook tries, and fails, to hide his grin. “Oh, really?” he asks, returning his lips to your neck. “And what do you think, Y/N? Am I a dad” – his teeth scrape your throat – “you’d like” – his grip on your thigh tightens – “to fuck?”

“Yes,” you groan, arching into him. “Fuck. I mean, who am I to judge those moms for their impeccable taste? I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, so it’s really their loss.”

“Besides,” Jungkook adds. “You’re one to talk. Every time we go somewhere with the kids, I leave for one second and am forced to fend off all your admirers when I return.”

“What can I say? People know a good thing when they see it.”

“So do I,” he growls, low in your ear. “Which is why I proposed six months into dating. Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m messing this up.”

“I know. Me neither.”

Jungkook stares at you, silently warring with an internal dilemma. “I planned this all wrong,” he admits on a sigh. “I should’ve told Seokjin and Yoongi you landed at three.”

A laugh escapes as you open your eyes. “No, this is better. You know me – I want to see our babies.”

“Not babies anymore,” Jungkook says mournfully. “Jae turns two next month.”

“I know.” Drily, you arch a brow. “Having had the pleasure of pushing him out myself. And they’ll always be my babies. They’ll just have to deal.”

“Well.” Jungkook kisses your forehead. “At least they’ll have something to talk about in therapy.”

Huffing a laugh, you lightly punch his shoulder. Jungkook grabs you halfway, intertwining your hands for the rest of the trip. Despite what you said, it’s been a long trip and a few minutes later, you’re asleep on his shoulder. Pulling into the drive, Jungkook debates whether to wake you but decides you’d be more upset if you missed the kids.

“Wake up, princess,” he murmurs, unbuckling your seatbelt. “We’re here.”

Sleepily, your eyes open and you stare at the house visible through the side window. “Oh!” you blurt as you straighten. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook says, grabbing your purse. “You needed it. Do you want to stay in the car while I get the kids?”

“Nope,” you scoff, already opening your door. “Don’t you dare.”

Shaking his head, Jungkook follows you up the drive to Yoongi and Seokjin’s home. It’s a beautiful, contemporary style house built into the cliffs overlooking the ocean. For this very reason, Jungkook has barred Mia from playing outdoors but has the sneaking suspicion Seokjin lets her anyways. He’s a sucker for Mia’s big eyes and quivering lower lip.

Reaching the entrance, you ring the bell and stand back at the sound of thundering footsteps. The front door flings open.

“MOMMY!”

Jae is the first one outside, tripping over himself to reach you. Luckily, you catch him before he can fall. “Hi, munchkin!” you gush, swinging him upwards. “You’re getting so, so big! Did Yoongi feed you dessert for breakfast again?”

This last sentence is followed by a look at Yoongi, who’s appeared in the doorway. Yoongi shrugs, crossing his arms to lean against the frame.

Shaking his head, Jae wraps his tiny fingers around your wrist. “Nooo. He said that’s bad. Mommy, what’s ‘adult time?’”

Freezing, you glance once more at Yoongi, who seems momentarily flustered while searching for what to say.

“Uh… I’ll take Jae,” Jungkook says, hastily reaching out to transfer him to his hip. The look on your face has turned slightly ominous. “Adult time is the time when adults hang out and do adult things. Right, Yoongi?” he adds, widening his eyes.

“Uh, right.” Yoongi bobs his head. “That’s correct.”

“Oh.” A tiny wrinkle forms in Jae’s brow. “The adults play games?”

“Lots and lots of them,” Jungkook says, tossing a wink in your direction.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the front door, but Jungkook can tell that you’re smiling. “Where’s Mia?” you call.

“In the basement with Seokjin.”

Following suit, Jungkook glances around the vaulted foyer. A few years ago, when Yoongi bought this place, the walls were full of his trophies and Seokjin’s travel mementos. Now, they’re pseudo-uncles to both their kids and Hoseok’s, forcing them to baby-proof in each way imaginable. Breakable items are set on high shelves, sharp corners are sanded down and electrical sockets are covered.

As they head for the basement, Jungkook sees a black shape slink around the corner.

Reaching upward, Jae grabs the shell of Jungkook’s ear. “Mr. Whiskers is mean,” he attempts to whisper, but comes out at normal volume.

Mr. Whiskers is the name of the cat Yoongi has had for over ten years and is famously standoffish with anyone that’s not his owner.

Yoongi’s lips twitch. “He’s just scared we’ll like you better than him, Jae,” he offers. “And he should be! At least you tell us when you’ve gone poop.”

Jae giggles at the word poop, causing Jungkook to mock-gasp and cover his son’s ear. Following you to the basement, Jungkook stops short at the base of the stairs.

Mia and Seokjin are singing karaoke – again – but this time they’ve added make-up and costumes. Glitter has been smeared over Mia’s cheeks and she dances around the room in a neon blue tutu. Seokjin is similarly bedazzled, pink dotting each temple and every time his hair shakes, more glitter falls out. The song is a pop song that overplayed on the radio but despite this, Jungkook can’t help but grin.

Spinning around, Mia spots you mid-twirl. “MOMMY!” she cries, the sound reverberating when she forgets she’s holding the microphone. Dropping this on the ground, Mia launches herself around the couch and into your arms.

“Hi, baby!” you laugh, bending down for a hug.

Mia presses her cheek to your leg, glitter rubbing off on your pants, but you don’t seem to mind. Eyes closed, you hug her back as you rock to and fro.

Jungkook’s heart melts as he watches. Sometimes, his luck feels slightly overwhelming. When your eyes open and meet his over Mia’s shoulder, Jungkook knows you feel the same. It’s hard not to pinch himself to ensure it’s all real. To confirm he won’t wake up tomorrow in that cold, dead apartment he used to have.

Fingers tightening in Jungkook’s hair, Jae gurgles his laughter and Jungkook’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Mia takes you by the hand, dragging you to the couch to show off her routine. Joining the group, Jungkook bounces Jae to the beat while Mia squeals in delight, holding out her mic for Jae to yell, “AHHHHH!”

It’s a brand of chaos only your kids could create and Jungkook knows that, deep down, it’s something he’ll never be without again. He’ll make sure of it.

#bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fluff

703 notes · View notes

kristlewrites · 7 months

Text

“Baby I’m ready for take off”

CW: Cock Warming ,Chest Riding, Fluff(?), Poorly written smut, comfort(?) nicknames ( ma, mamas, papa, and baby)

PAIRING: Connie x Black!FemReader

WC: 0.9k

🫧🗯️: Test run post! Don’t judge🤒 ALSO! first time writing smut so if it’s bad i’m sorry, it’ll probably remain like that for a minute…(title is from a wayv song.. doesn’t have to do anything with the fic🪦🪦)

MINORS DNI

(take off!)

It's been a long day, long week even. School has been beating your ass with essays and finals..this was your only chance to relax. You enter connie's apartment around 6 pm, he wasn't there because he's also been busy but not with school. The team made it to regionals and the coach has been working the team the bone with drills everyday.

You use your key that he lent to you and make yourself at home, he lived off campus. You make your way into the shower and clean yourself up real quick and change into his pajamas, although a lot of your clothes is in his room, hell ! you even have your own drawer! But you love the way his clothes feels on you and his scent makes you feel safe. You were absolutely starving by the time you got dressed and decided to go order some food, wing-stop you finally decide you got yourself a 12 pc hot and lemon pepper with a side of fries and A sprite. When the food came around it was almost eight and Connie should be on his way home.

After you finished eating you cleaned up super quick and went to bed, connie showed up about an hour later. He knew you were here but seeing you in his sheets and pjs made his heart falter. He went in the shower quickly and joined you in bed. He tried his best not to make any noise but regardless you still woke up

"Sorry ma, didn't mean to wake you up"

he said so gentle,

"how are you? I'm sorry I came home late.. i didn't expect coach to keep us so long"

he caressed your cheeks trying to get you back to sleep. You looked up at his beautiful freckled face, you missed him so much you guys havent been able to see each other at all this week with being so occupied with your own personal activities and affairs. Small tears stream from your eyes, he wipes them away with such care and delicacy.

"I know, I know ive missed you too, baby"

You turn towards to him and indulge into his chest , he's not wearing a shirt which is normal since he gets really sweaty at night (😭😭🪦🪦🪦) you start talking about the events that happened that week, how your essay went, how you absolutely failed your stats test, new books you bought, girl drama, and how stressful it's been for you. He nods occasionally and throws in a couple of "mhms" to let yk that he's still listening. This goes on for about an hour and at this point you're just rambling, but connie understands how much you love to talk and let's you continue without complaint, that is until you ask him about his week and what he's done.

At this point he's practically knocked out.

"Hah, What was that baby what did you say??" he said a little bit groggy

You repeat your question, but while you do you see that he's HARD??? No way this man was hard from just hearing you talk.But then he must've been backed up from this whole week because of how rarely he saw you or had anytime for himself. When you think about it has been a while since y'all had sex, because of how seldom it's been to even talk to him on the phone

"Hey con.. You're hard, how long has it been?" you ask while playing with his nipples. (🪦🪦🪦)

"Baby you don't even understand how much i've missed you..c'mere" He pulls you closer to his penis.

Slowly he removes his pants and boxers, revealing his hard leaking cock.. good lord it was so much prettier than you remember. You slowly enter his dick into your hole, surprised by how wet you were.

"Be careful mamas I could jizz into you at any point" you laughed at his choice of words, it was clear that he hasn't been relived in awhile..and while you were also tired doesn't mean you could at least help him out!!?? and you were on the pill so that should count for something..right??? Continuing you grab ahold of his tip and insert it, until fully seethed into your pussy. It felt so good, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach showing him where his dick is. That really pushed him over and sprayed your pussy through and through. your poor baby he was so sensitive. You guys stayed like that until morning.

Waking up, you find yourself looking at connie sleeping so soundly and peacefully. You reach for your phone but feel restricted once you've realized the man got a whole ass dick in you. omggg

"Baby wake up" you whisper yell, tapping his chest. you roam your fingers on along his abs, a few seconds later connie shifts a little bit to remove his cock from you and lifts you up and places you down on his chest. This all happens so quick that u immediately shiver, with your wet slicky pussy on top of his chest he begins move you up and down while his dick teases at your ass crack. Your nails dig into his abdomen while you grind your silky pussy over his abs. Connie's hands take pleasure in your tits while they bounce up and down, twisting and turning you nipples putting you into over drive. Your cum glazes over his abs, you panting hard. First thing in the morning... You rest your head on his chest finding his heart beat while he rubs your head calming you down.

"I love you ma" he whispers, he feels your smile into his chest and laughs a bit. He raises your head, "did you hear what I said?" He leans in for a kiss and you return it. "I love you too papa"

(Think of this as a soft launch ijbol)🫧🗯️

#Kristlewrites🫧🗯️#black reader smut #connie springer x black reader #aot x black reader #connie springer x black reader smut #connie springer smut #connie x black reader smut #aot connie #smut #aot fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #black writers

189 notes · View notes

pezpenser205 · 2 months

Text

man ive gotta say that aaron bushnell transvestigation post has gotta be hands down The Single Worst Post ive ever seen on this site both morally and just to read and ive been on here since i was 12. in 7 years of being on this site ive never encountered a post that bad where the op had so little self awareness or shame of how bad it was. where op said it like it was a super hot take that once presented with the "evidence" everyone would agree with. that was typed in the same format as ive typed analysis posts on blorbo from my shows. its beyond parody. war martyr gets transvestigated on tumblr based on transfem stereotypes. what a fucking time to be alive aint it

#op

41 notes · View notes

wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 1 year

Note

Hey! I love what your doing here. I was wondering if you know any Sterek fics where stiles and/or derek are “dark” or morally grey”, maybe some criminal ones. Ive read “Pretty Little Wolf” by ItsMe_Basil on ao3 and it was really good, so kinda like that.

Sure!

He'll bleed you 'til you're just bone and skin by ElisAttack

(1/1 I 2,236 I Explicit)

It's moments when Stiles feels the dull pull of the bruises on his hips, moments when he can't sleep on his stomach because the throbbing ache does nothing for a good night's sleep, it's those moments that make him feel worthless.

Makes him hate Derek with a passion that burns brighter than anything else he feels.

Or the one where Derek doesn't know his strength, but Stiles knows he deserves it.

Alpha by Nival_Vixen

(1/1 I 3,257 I Explicit)

Stiles has been kidnapped by a serial killer known only as Alpha. Stiles finds himself far too attracted to the man that's probably going to kill him.

No one called, until someone did. by queen_of_OTPs

(1/1 I 4,419 I Mature)

Stiles found that he hadn’t spoken more than necessary since August. Gone were the rambling rants, extravagant gestures, and range of vocal tones. Monotone sentences that were cut with sharp edges, words like knives and tone like venom.

No one had called.

The Killer AU by cloudsarefluffy

(2/2 I 5,789 I Explicit)

Based on this Tumblr Post: "Imagine your OTP meeting each other for the first time, at night, in the woods, while both trying to dispose of their freshly killed corpses.

@midnightwinterhawk suggested these.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(1/1 I 2,037 I Explicit)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Kill For You by bloodwrites

(1/1 I 2,053 I Mature)

Kate Takes Derek. Stiles snaps.

Or, the one where Stiles embraces his inner sociopath, and Kate doesn't stand a chance.

Love's Violent Delights by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(1/1 I 10,685 I Explicit)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

adore to see your eyes fly by 1001cranes

(1/1 I 11,309 I Explicit)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

let slip the dogs of war by creationmyth

(12/12 I 86,920 I Explicit)

He stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are faintly blotchy, flush sparsely coloring down his neck. His eyes look glassy and half-crazed. “Get it the fuck together,” he growls lowly to his reflection. “You lose everything. Get fucking used to it.”

He can’t stop thinking about it. How Derek looked at him, said his name reverently rather than disdainfully.

Stiles sits on the shower floor, shivering even though the spray is far too hot. He keeps replaying the words over and over - sometimes the person someone shows us and the person we choose to see are two different people.

For the first time, Stiles takes a moment to seriously consider that perhaps he has never known Derek Hale at all.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #dark!derek #dark!stiles #anon

152 notes · View notes

girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 4 months

Text

tuesday again 12/19/2022

shambling along towards the new year

listening

cotton heads by caravan palace. i think this has been on every spotify wrapped playlist ive ever had. soft and comforting in a way that’s hard for me to describe. this has been part of the background music in some of the softest times of my life, winter-warm and safe and solitary noodling around on some project that involves a lot of fiddling with tiny pieces on a desk. spotify

youtube

reading

houston thrift stores are, predictably, awash with cowboy western novels. mostly it’s every louis l’amour or zane grey possible (no thanks)

jake logan’s SLOCUM AND THE YELLOWBACK TRAIL is number three hundred and seventy nine in the series, which is quite impressive. i am fascinated when a book attempts to transplant a cowboy into an urban environment so we’ll stick with it for a bit, despite a truly horrible sex scene describing a “rigid pole”. there were no onomatopoeia sex sounds which is both blessing and curse bc the intel SLOCUM gathered during this sex scene seemed like a completely different conversation totally unrelated to the sex he was having. she simply happened to come three times in three pages while telling him everything he needed for Next Location.

watching

saw several very beautiful movies in the last two weeks, one of which i liked very much.

youtube

Experiment in Terror (1962, dir. Edwards) has one of my favorite Mancini-composed pieces of music but i had never seen the movie it was from. a neo-noir man with an asthmatic rasp puts pressure on a bank teller and her teen sister to rob the bank by terrorizing them through various means. however, despite successfully playing on a lot of Womanly Fears (unexpected phone calls, driving at night, being alone) the fbi. this is perhaps a bit snide since it is extremely good at keeping the tension up through most of the runtime, the leads all did a good job imo— a letterboxed reviewer pointed out the villain played by Ross Martin has a certain chameleon-like quality from scene to scene and it is really arresting, he pops up in some unexpected places to great effect. a well-shot movie, just a hair longer than i wanted it to be, i don’t think any movie could survive the hype i built up in my head after loving than mancini piece so much, and was not quite the vibe i was looking for on the afternoon i finished it.

dailymotion

in a different noir with an important scene during a baseball game, Stray Dog (1949, dir. Kurosawa). everything you could possibly say about this movie has already been said. mifune is such a fucking joy to watch as a somewhat hapless young cop with a bad case of the scruples. gets his fully loaded pistol pickpocketed on the tram, sending him hither and yon during a brutally hot summer tracking down every bullet. widely available for free. fucking beautiful work of art. deeply annoying when widely acclaimed movies are actually really good

playing

nothing new to report, nothing i want to play has been a free epic game lately. very excited that a character ive been waiting for is dropping in genshin on…uhhhhh…tomorrow? she has sunglasses. she has a gunbrella. she can call in heavy cannon bombardment. she’s just so cute

making

one of the purposes of the tuesdaypost is to remind myself to expand the selection of things i do and my brain partially feels like sludge bc of the time of year and partially bc i haven’t fucking done anything more complicated than scrambled eggs or cleaning things in like two weeks

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Spotify

21 notes · View notes

gaienenkidou · 3 months

Text

uni2 spoilers

now that the uni2 honeymoon period is setting in some... ive been thinking about specifically merkava's good ending a whole lot for the past 2 days out of everyone... (excluding enkidu because. yknoww teehee. hehe. haha.) ive been thinking about how genuinely adorable his reaction to being a human is. seeing merkava suffer for well over a decade across games and getting to be genuinely vindicated for trying to keep that human part of him still there. i think no part shows that at its best but at the beginning of the end of his kuon fight (sorry thats a mouthful) where when hes eating him up, in the bad ending human merk's narration is taken over by the merk we know, completely frenzied, but in the good ending human merk's narration continues...until he realizes this isn't him internally monologuing anymore he's just a guy now! i also just think him having two endings makes his arcade route the most impactful out of everyone especially since merkava is already like one of the coolest and most interesting fg characters like...ever. it really highlights the stakes of his wellbeing and how an overwhelming night like that effects it. i feel like underwhelming endings like byakuya's or the re-birth'd endings of hilda and carmine could've benefitted from a bad/good ending path structure too... take mega advantage of how arcade modes in fgs function for your final game dammit!!!!

i like seeing him thrilled at all the small things he can feel now as a human. when he fully processes the fact that he is a Real guy now the first thing he just thinks is what he wants to do...and how just living a normal ass life, even the struggle parts, is all he wanted (even if brought up upon a gag scene) its good to see merkava...happy after so long as someone thats followed this game since like, uniel? while questions remain unanswered abt him (like his ties with orie) his salvation is the most rewarding out of everyone because of the nature of his character. its cute to imagine him just doing normal things while his speech is still oddly formal and probably still a behemoth height wise and also his hair just being like that. moe if you will. with that said wheres my fucking 12 episode slice of life human merkava anime i want to see that grown ass man live a satisfying life. please for the love of god i just want to see it. this is why we need that chronicle mode patch. i wanna see other characters react to him suddenly being a hot man. why did they have to lowkey rush uni2 out the door

the merk = hollow god theory going around is also pretty interesting because while i can see that conclusion for obvious reasons (HE LITERALLY SAYS THE TITLE BY NAME LOL,) i also feel like he would've had a power trip moment like hilda and carmine did when they converted if he really REALLY did inherit stuff from the hollow god? but merkava is just...normal. he's just overwhelmed with the joy of getting to indulge himself. so either thats a testament to how humble the hollow god was or like merk's deep humanity just overrid any of that nonsense. i prefer just human merkava being human merkava because that implies he truly is just a regular weird good guy and possibly was just that in his past too.

i wish i had been thinking abt merk's ending this deep when i made that initial answer to @/starocide's ask because the implications of both his endings for him as a character AND LIKE GENERAL UNI WORLDBUILDING are insanely fucking valuable when you think about it. its up there with chaos's arcade route with how much it forwards it. is there hope for all voids in general with what the good ending implies? im so curious now....

Also because i have to say it: verdict is in. human merkava is pretty hot actually. Meow meow meow

#uni2 spoilers #under night in birth #merkava #omiwa txts #ok to rb btw feel free to infodump and whatnot

11 notes · View notes

gideongrovel · 3 months

Text

Bro 👏🏾 is 👏🏾 yapping 👏🏾 about 👏🏾 that 👏🏾 man 👏🏾 again!!! 👏🏾

I wish I could remember more about what my thoughts on E/nel were when I first watched S/kypiea all those years ago,,,,, i was like what 10?? maybe 11? maybe 12?? idk maths isn't mathing,, and idr if I met him first through the Funi dub, or though my copy of Grand Adventure on gamecube, or the manga itself I can't blame myself for not remembering since its been so fucking long,,, and OP is one of those things that's quite literally always been apart of my life,,,,, my obsession coming and going in waves, but still,,, idr it never not being a thing in my life,,,, 😭

but anywhoooo I have figured out a couple small pieces to the puzzle of why i have snapped all these years later, and why i want that man (E/nel)!!! Okay so since in my youth I use to ship with Z/oro (I do not anymore, i personally feel too grown for him, and im just not into him in a shippy way anymore) but when I was younger and into Z/oro, his S/kypiea outfit was my absolute favorite (gonna mention Grand Adventure again- id always pick that as his outfit in that game lol), but i think that was my main focus when watching/rewatching that arc back then lmao,,, And while im not religious now, i use to be a christian when i was younger,,, so E/nel's whole god shtick probs was an ick to me back then,,,, so thats also a potential reason of why i didnt feel any shippy feels to him when i was younger,,,, 🤔

but now in this current day and age,,, those barriers weren't there,,,,, god complexes are hot to me- i love blasphemy and i didnt have someone else drawing my attention,,,, so i think thats a couple reasons of why these feels arose,,, My preferences with characters i lust after is different now then it was back then, and he checks alot of boxes for me "maybe, just maybe, its mental illness innit" so its not surprising when i really think about it,,,,,, its just funny it took over a decade to like smack me in the face,,,,, especially cause ive seen the arc many of times so i had many chances for it to happen 😭😭😭

i cant find it but i saw diagram once, it was like two separate lines meeting, then going their separate ways, then meeting back up again,,, and thats what this feels like??? not in like a rekindled old flame way,,,, cause he never was a flame, he was just someone i knew,,,, idk i guess its more like an "Oh. Oh." moment,,, like actually catching romantic feel for him (and not just sexual ones like i originally thought it was) has felt kinda comforting in some odd way??? that may sound off the wall given the type of character he is lmao,,,,,

But my thoughts are like it was a "wrong place, wrong time" back in the day,,,, but now,,, now we found our ways back to each other, it may have taken some time but things have aligned perfectly,,, and we're together now, and that is what matters in the end,,,,

idk what im on about truly,,,, articulating my emotions for this man feels *make vague idk gesture* if you wasted your time reading this im legit sorry 💀 I just love E/nel alot,,,, and this development of feelings these past couple months has my head spinning

#my post #saskia don't look

9 notes · View notes

thinkingaboutfilm11 · 4 months

Text

GRACE F1 LORE

Thanks for tagging me @wisteria-wisteria <3

1. Who or what got you into F1?

Basic bitch answer but my dad. He was a big fan, and his dad was a fan. I was plonked infront of the TV to watch it as a kid, and grew up never missing a race. That was until Sky Sports braught it off chanel 4, and now my family can't afford to watch it anymore. I have to pirate it now coz I AINT PAYING 50 A MONTH go fuck yourself Sky Sports.

2.Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

Probably Lewis? Or Jenson? I was (still am) a Mclaren fan as a kid, and my dad always cheered on English drivers, so I just copied him. I still love them both now, my opinions havn't changed on them at all!

3.Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

Current grid? Probably Max, Fernando or Oscar. They are all so so talented, it's just a pivalidge to watch them drive. I think they're all really funny in their own ways too.

My favourite driver ever? Senna, obviously. Or Prost.... Can't ever pick.

4.Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

I support all and any pairings. F1 RPF in all forms is delicious thankyou. My faves are: Prost X Senna, Carlos X Lando, Max X Charles, Peroni X Villeneuve, George X alex, Mika X Michael, and Nigel X Elio.

The only ship I don't really vibe with is Pierre X Charles? Like idk I just don't feel it. But I'll still read it so lol

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

My dad supports Mclaren same as me. My sister isn't really into it? She finds charles hot and will watch edits of him but shes never watched a race or really gives a shit about the actual driving. Shes here for the thirst traps and Ferrari merchandise and I respect that so much.

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

Dallas, Texas 1984. What a fucking shit show. Absolute comedy sketch. Everything about that dumb race is so funny to me.

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

Hungaroing! It was the first F1 race I ever attended, and the joy I get out of watching it and screaming 'IVE BEEN THERE IVE BEEN THERE' never leaves. The first race in person was special, so hungaoring is special now too.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like

Yes. And I don't know why but I was so shocked at how friendly everyone was. I think I was expecting it to be like football, but everyone got along so well no matter the teams ect. I always get general admission now, because its so much fun to sit and make new friends with other F1 freaks!!! Everyone shares food, alcohol, blankets, brollies ect- its alwaus such a good atmosphere at everywhere I've been.

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

Yes. Seb and Jenson. In the same day. I nearly exploded, but actually managed to come off very normal and composed.

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

McLaren MP4/4 1988.

LOOK AT IT

The details, the colours, the absoulte perfection of the livery, and of course the V8 underneath that gave way to MCAREN DOMINATION. Shes perfect.

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

Gerhard Berger or charles.

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

Anything that comes out of Alain Prost's mouth. That man should be a fucking poet. Also- "I'm cuming on your camera mate" hahah

I tag @astirian , @bluesourkiwi , @kimizilla , @whobuilthemoon , @penseesauvageand @eliorosb3rg. Or whoever wants to do itttt love u all

#personal

7 notes · View notes

the-gods-dam-snack-bar · 1 year

Text

Do I know you?

(Set In an Au) Bree was J.D's Best friend,so she was very concerned when he seemed really distant. "Hey Jason, You okay..?" "Yeah..Its Just" He took a Deep Breath. "Im moving....today" "Your WHAT?, You cant!" Bree said. "Its my dad who says were moving, I don't decide, im so sorry Bree" His voice was on the brink of tears, which was the first time, he felt like this since his mom died. "Okay, Just please don't forget me" Bree said finding herself crying now. "I wont" J.D reached over, wiped the tears from Bree's eyes, cradled her face and kissed her. It was both of there first's. "Uh thanks Jason.." "Now i wont forget about you"

4-5 ish years later, Bee had forgotten about J.D and his Kiss. Now at 18 his life was full of trying to be a popular girl, (despite being trans) parties, football games and sleeping with jocks. J.D however had move back to Boulder, Colorado and was looking for the girl who had been his best friend and first kiss. He really missed her, He tried dating someone else..(but she kinda blew up, him off )but he didn't feel the same spark. It took him a minute, he almost didnt recognize bee but when he did, his heart stopped. Bee was so much more attractive then when J.D left him. He had spotted Bee talking to some girls, but he had never been one to care what people said about him. So he walked up to him and practically dragged him to an empty classroom. "DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!" Bee protested as J.D dragged him. "LET GO!" Same ol' Bree J.D thought.

J.D plopped Bee on a desk, and started taking of his own trench coat and shirt. "Damn~! and Dude, I love hook-ups but i don't even know your name" "You don't?" J.D looked Sad "No,Sorry" "Its Jason.." "That dosnt ring a bell.." "I was your first kiss" "No, that was a sweet little kid, your a super hot man. "Well thank you, your not so bad yourself darling~" Bees face lit up like red christmas lights. "Wow uh heh um" He had been apologized for his body a million times but he was so attractive and made Bee feel good about himself. "Awww, Did i make you blush~?" J.D teased. Bee nodded, the memories of J.D had came flooding back to him and he prefered this J.D much more. J.D leaned down and started making out with bee, running his hand under Bees shirt. It was so much more mature then their first, but Bee also liked it more. "So do you rember me now~?" Bee nodded "Jason, i uh really liked it but" "But what?" "I have a boyfriend" "Thats okay.. Meet me at 12 am, Same house as last time i was here." He said, kissed Bee again then left.

Bee entered J.Ds room through his window "Heyyyyy Jason~" Bee sat on the foot of J.Ds bed and started taking off his clothes. Blush rose to J.Ds cheeks and he turned his face so he couldn't see Bee. But he looked just a little. "Bree-uh what are you doing?" "Two things, Since were friends..can you call me Bee?" "Yeah of course..why?" "Im trans." "Okay then Bee~ " J.D said running his hand through bees hair. "Whats the second thing?" He asked Bee. "Well uh i thought you wanted Sex." J.D shook his head "No, i mean not yet,well uh maybe. But I thought we could get rid of your boyfriend" "Jason, We cheat on each other all the time, I can just be with you" "No Bee, I want to Be with you, like in public, and everything, ive been waiting for years. Plus im Good at getting rid of people." "Okay Jason, i trust you" Bee leaned in and kissed J.D

Bee Led J.D to his boyfriends house and to their room. "Oh hey Bree" His boyfriend Said groggily. J.D didn't allow more talking. He pulled out a knife, slit Bees boyfriend wrists and shot him. Then Bee started sobbing "JASON, WHAT DID YOU DO?" "I Got rid of him." J.D picked up Bee, spun him around a little, and kissed him. "Welcome to Being my Boyfriend.

#Thanks Blue for the Town #Murderous love #bee x j.d

3 notes · View notes

beetrans · 1 year

Text

i'm Going Through It, pals

(cw pet illness & possible animal death & generally upsetting times)

tldr my best friend's dog is in critical care and prbably going to die if not immediately then likey in weeks and my best friend has been on the edge of full blown mental health crisis for some time and fully said if her dog dies she will have nothing to live for and kill herself and also I got a fantastic job but I cannot handle this.

my dearest friend (K) as a dog (T). T is 14 years old. T has been declining in wellbeing for the past two or three years, including losing vision, getting arthritis, and having liver and kidney function issues.

T lives with K's parents, while K does grad school on the other side of the country. K's parents went on vacation last Tuesday, and I (and my dog) have been at their house and dogsitting since the Sunday before (stayed with them for 3 days before they left).

T has been on a restricted vet diet (though parents gave her lots of table scraps as treats) and multiple medications. (She was actually due to have bloodwork a week from now.) This past Saturday, I noticed T was more lethargic, didn't want to leave her crate, wasn't eating, etc.; Sunday noticed a sore on her back, called K, cleaned it, scheduled a vet appointment for asap (ended up being Monday around noon). T wouldn't eat Sunday either, and didn't have her meds. (Got clearance from K and her sibling D (who then got clearance from parents) to do whatever needed to be done.)

At the vet, we did bloodwork, and found that T was both anemic and fully in kidney failure. Per the vet, the sore probably made her a bit worse (but likely resulted from the arthritis), and the not eating continued it, but she'd been in late stage kidney disease already and was only taking the vet diet for it; other meds were pain relief and liver function. T's legs were literally giving out under her as she tried to stand up.

we got her started on subQ fluids and anti nausea and sheared off more fur from the hot spot to keep it cleaner. got a referral to an emerg care clinic where they can sustain IV fluids for longer. had to leave her there until the other vet called back to confirm.

In this in-between time, I got a call from the longshot but very ideal job I'd interviewed for last week. Got the offer. Took it starting in two weeks. I'm still finishing grad school. Had to vent to an Unrelated friend because I felt on the edge of feeling like when I was on 24/7 suicide watch for a DIFFERENT friend back in undergrad.

K booked the soonest flight home. I made the beds back at parents' house. ate a drive through burger. Got a call back from vet. Drove there to pick up T and bring her to the other vet for more care.

D took the train in after work. I redirected them to come to the vet #2 bc I couldn't pick them up because I had to re-explain everything from the vet place #1 to #2.

At vet #2 I had to be told again that T might die before treatment can do anything, that treatment might do nothing at first, that treatment might only bring her back to Stage Four Plus Kidney Failure, that euthanasia might be the most humane option, and at K&D's direction still had to say go ahead w treatment.

D got to see T again, T at least looked behaviourally improved. Talked, went to bed. D picked up K from the airport in the morning, drove her to the vet to see T again, I got a call from the vet about her prognosis (no change), drove D to work. Drove back, tapped someone's Fancy Pickup Truck while reversing, man tried to pull me out of my (BORROWED.) car, had to report collision to resolve it, police agreed that there's really nothing damaged, won't file any insurance claim, but now gonna have to, idk, pay some asshole $200?? Anyways.

Got back "home", K isn't eating anything, lethargic, won't leave her parents' bedroom. Parents called (they're on a 12?hr time difference), suggested T be let to die, K hung up & started crying.

I have had lunch.

I skipped class yesterday, might have to do the same today, have to do class work, but also am just. In the childhood home of my dearest friend who I cannot comfort because her dearest friend who is her dog is going to die and the most I can do is help her redo her thesis for the third time because also her supervisor tried to get K to do something extremely unethical, we documented it, and now ethics is mad at her supervisor and K has an offer from a diff prof to join that lab instead but K cannot make any decisions rn.

So there we are.

#personal / pls don't rb this.#I'm just. on crisis alert mode and can't do anything more than I already am. and cannot escape this.#I have done just about the best someone could do in this situation and it also can only delay the inevitable.

5 notes · View notes

co27 · 1 year

Text

tagged by elise of clopeh fame

hot shower or cold shower: hot. why would i purposefully choose to leech my body of its heat resources

texting or calling: texting

earbuds or headphones: earbuds i get the nose directly into my ear hole better

paperback or hardcover: paperback bc i love to beat the shit out of my books. i love bending and folding and chewing

matte or gel: for like. nails? i guess matte........

12 hour clock or 24 hour clock: 12 because i wake up at like noon so measuring things as 1 2 3 is easier

blue or green: tough one. blue is a classic. but i love wearing my greens so green

sunsets or sunrises: sunsets even though they happen at like 4:30 in the afternoon right now.... ive personally never been particularly struck by the beauty of the sunrises ive witnessed the same way i have with sunsets

tulips or orchids: orchids they have more personality

candle light or moonlight: moonlight because it can make you see outdoors

sci-fi or horror: ooobh. i think these genres are kind of stupid to compare because something can be scifi AND horror.... horror generally is centered around the idea of like fear and things being Fucking Scarey! as opposed to sci fi which is pretty much. "anything goes bc TECHNOLOGY" but i guess if i had to choose probably sci fi because theres a lotttt of wiggle room in that genre and i dont always want to be scared but ill never have a problem with laser guns

pen or pencil: pencil i love you erasing things i love you texture

pandas or koalas: well theyre both big stupid idiots in trees. but probably pandas because i feel like the idea of hugging a panda is just really beautiful.

gold or silver: ive been a silver man since the cradle, i just dont think i look good with gold and i feel like silver is much more versatile

sneakers or boots: it depends... usually sneakers cuz i have to walk around. boots make for a rlly good statement tho

denim jacket or leather jacket: technically i dont often wear either but leather is cooler

pink or purple: ourple

chocolate or sour candy: sour candy unless im high in which case chocolate

deodorant or perfume: well.... theyre different things..... you cant just exchange one for the other........ i guess deodorant ? cuz you can go without perfume but not without deodorant.

drive in movie theater or regular: regular i love sitting in a big room

pastel blue or earth tones: why are we going "one thing or A BUNCH OF OTHER THINGS?" obviously im choosing the bunch of other things. give me earth tones

lemonade or fruit juice: lemonade IS technically a fruit juice...and which fruit juice specifically are we talking here...... i guess lemonade im not a big fan of orange juice or apple juice or most juices it would seem

tagging YOU :point:

#he is typing #tag game #i suppose :^)....

2 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

peter-must-die

PETERMUSTDIE

georgie3116

| Meep Murp |

he-rad-hader

Starting... NOW

glossglamour

pathetically cuntstruck

stevecarell600

Untitled