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fettsvette · 3 years

Text

Heat

Boba Fett takes you on a faraway hunt that involves a prolonged journey through hyperspace. You’re horny as fuck, but your man is too preoccupied with running a tight ship to pay you any mind - until things get a little too desperate.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 3.0k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Edgeplay, teasing, rough penetration

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology

ad’ika - little one

cyare - beloved

mesh’la - beautiful

Another whine.

Another stomp of a boot.

Still no relief in sight.

You could be dying, and he wouldn’t even look at you.

“You need to settle down, ad’ika . I don’t have time for this right now.” Boba Fett warned sternly, his helmet just barely twitching to the side to regard you as you paced the cockpit, your footfalls having become increasingly louder and more obnoxious as time dragged on.

The journey through hyperspace had lasted several hours already, and it was projected to go on for many more; and that’s if your flight plan continued on ahead of schedule. Why exactly Boba had felt the need to pursue a job all the way out in Wild Space, you had no idea. It was an average bounty, one that you frankly considered beneath his talents, but perhaps that was why he determined it had been safe enough to bring you along for the ride for once. Not that you really saw the point in your presence anyway; the thought of going on an adventure with your beau had thrilled you at first, thinking that the days would be filled with exploring strange, distant worlds together, the nights consisting of passionate lovemaking for hours on end. Instead, what you were getting was a whole lot of sitting around, staring out the viewport at the blue and white streaks of stars passing you by. The prospect of traveling at lightspeed had seemed exciting, but you truly hadn’t realized just how boring it actually was until you were stuck in the middle of it.

Especially when the man you were on this sojourn with was much too preoccupied with fine-tuning every gadget and system aboard his prized transport, obsessively tracking the ship’s progress across the galaxy, rather than keeping his cyar’ika entertained.

You couldn’t recall the amount of times your lover had told you to sit down, to be quiet, to climb up to your shared sleeping quarters behind the cockpit and take a nap to pass the time. He’d even threatened to lock you in one of the cages reserved for his hard merchandise down in the cargo hold until the Slave I reached its destination, but swiftly backpedaled when you expressed a little too much excitement at the idea.

You were desperate for Boba Fett’s touch, for his hand on your thigh, his lips on your neck, his thigh in between your knees, something - and he was purposefully ignoring you. No, he wasn’t just ignoring you… he was torturing you.

It’d been days since Boba had touched you. He wasn’t even coming to bed with you, as far as you knew - when you’d retire for the night, he’d still be sitting in his pilot’s chair, motionless saved for his gloved hands running across the Slave I ’s dashboard, occasionally pressing a button or typing in some incomprehensible command. You’d wait up as long as your body allowed for the feeling of Boba sliding into the cot next to you, a well-muscled arm encircling your waist, his bare chest against your back, the outline of his thick cock pressed against your ass, but it never came. You’d arise hours later and descend the ladder to find him in the same spot you’d left him, or tinkering about down in the cargo hold, polishing one of his many blasters.

The sight of him running a dirty, oiled cloth over the stock of the EE-3 model that had become his personal calling card, the blaster grease coating his rough hands, was enough to drive you wild, make you wish he was dragging the fabric back and forth between your legs instead. Hell, everything he did nowadays made you horny, from palming the thrusters in the cockpit upon exiting or entering lightspeed - ‘the only thruster he should be palming is this one right here,’ you found yourself thinking more often than not - to just seeing those large, powerful hands of his anywhere near the hard expanse of his thighs.

You didn’t just feel aroused, or even simply sexually frustrated - you felt as if you were in heat , like some kind of debased animal left to rut against its master’s leg until it’s been kicked away. You wanted nothing more than to climb up on the console in front of the pilot’s seat and ruck your panties to the side, spreading your legs wide so he could see just how soaked you were for him, beg him to fuck you - or at the very least, bring you to some sort of release with a calloused finger or that deft tongue of his. You’d refrained from pleasuring yourself for the entirety of the trip so far solely so you’d be more than ready for him when he finally decided to claim you, but now you doubted if that time was ever coming.

“Boba, please. I’m suffering over here, and you’re just sitting there -” You began again in a high-pitched whine, not caring just how pathetic and needy you must sound. You could have begun weeping in frustration right then and there, had actually considered dropping to your knees in front of your lover, groveling at his boots for even just one touch. The ache between your legs was becoming more and more unbearable with the passing of each Standard Time Unit, to the point where sometimes you felt as if you were going to cum in your pants solely from walking around too much or positioning yourself in a chair a certain way, bringing yourself to a release from pent-up friction alone.

But it was your accusation of Boba just sitting there that finally elicited a response, after days of being brushed off and outright ignored. His head jerked up with almost blinding speed, and he swiveled the pilot’s chair around to face you, his visor cocked to one side. His large hands gripped his knees tightly, his knuckles standing out sharply against the black leather of his gloves, his legs wide open. His cock was buried beneath several layers of the heavy black fabric that constituted his kama , but you swore you could still make out an impressive bulge nestled there in the lighting, and your mouth watered eagerly at the thought of him finally allowing you to take him in your mouth after so long, to feel his deliciously veiny member seated between your cunt lips.

“I’m not ‘just sitting here .’ This ship is like an extension of myself. It’s as important to me as you are. I don’t expect you to understand that, but I need you to respect it. Hyperspace can be very unstable. Our coordinates and support systems need to be constantly monitored if we’re to spend this long a time at lightspeed, but now I see comprehending that is beyond your capabilities. Perhaps bringing you with me was a mistake, if you’re going to carry on like a selfish little brat for the remainder of our journey.” Boba retorted gruffly, shaking his head as if just speaking to you sickened him. His words felt like a slap across the face, and the corners of your eyes prickled harshly.

You felt tears trickling silently down your cheeks, your face flushed hotly with the shame of not only being reprimanded by the man you loved, but the fact that despite his harshness towards you, you were fucking wet . You could feel the sticky warmth of your own arousal trickling out from between your inner lips and gathering in the cradle of your panties, soaking the thin fabric through. The fact that this man could berate you, insult you, and still you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him, beg his forgiveness, impale yourself on his girth over and over again until he filled you with his seed, was making you even hornier than you thought possible. Boba Fett had complete domination over every aspect of you, and it turned you on more than you could ever admit.

“Boba… please . I’m sorry, I just… I need you so fucking bad.” You choked out, your voice nasally and piteous through your tears, your knees slightly buckling inwards in a half-assed attempt to stop the flow of wetness drooling out from your core. Boba gave a low hum and reclined back in his chair, his legs outspread even wider as he repositioned himself against the leather backing, seeming cruelly satisfied with the state he’d left you in.

“Look at you. Are you actually weeping because you want my cock that badly?” Boba clucked his tongue disgustedly, but you could have sworn that he almost sounded in awe despite his tone. Your eyes flickered downwards when you noticed a slight movement of his hand, just in time to see him briefly squeeze at his obscured length, and you let out a throaty moan despite yourself. With a thinly veiled snort of amusement, Boba gestured in the general direction of your bowed, shaking legs, then raised his palm upwards, calling you forward with a quick movement of his fingers.

“Take those off and get over here, girl.”

You’d never shucked off your boots so fast in your life. You didn’t even bother untying the laces, hurriedly hopping from one foot to the next, pulling your feet from the restricting, clunky material in order to wiggle out of your pants and underwear as quickly as you could, panting and whining high in your throat in your excitement. You flung the garments off to the side, almost stumbling in your rush to get to Boba, and immediately reached out to grope for the seam of his trousers, beside yourself in your urge to free his heavy cock from its cloth prison. You were blocked by a firm, warm hand pressed flush against your chest, blunt fingers pressed into your breast and holding you back. Boba was chuckling at your need, a rumble that emanated from deep in his chest. The sound always went straight to your pussy whenever you heard it, so rough and sultry, and your clit throbbed.

“Oh no , sweet thing. Don’t think your tears are going to get you exactly what you want. Like I said, I’m busy. If you’re that desperate to get some relief, you’ll have to work for it yourself. I’m not going to help you.” The sick glee in the bounty hunter’s voice was evident, and he aggressively patted his meaty thigh in order to show you exactly what he meant, when he’d offered to finally let you have what you desired. Boba made no move to get up or further adjust his stance, holding his palm open and again broadly gesturing to his outstretched leg, as if grandly offering you the best seat in the house in a Coruscanti opera. From the way your cunt was fluttering helplessly though, it may as well have been your throne .

Shuffling forward and squatting daintily, you gingerly settled yourself onto the muscular sweep of Boba’s thigh beneath you, hissing sharply as the rough cloth pressed into the sensitive nub of your clit, wiggling the cradle of your pelvis back and forth experimentally to gauge what felt best. Boba gave no notice of your ministrations, he wasn’t even looking at you, and you glanced up to see that he had actually gone back to fiddling with the console of the Slave I as if you weren’t even there, as if your cunt juices weren’t currently soaking through the heavy fabric of his pants.

And so you began to move.

Gently at first, you writhed your pussy every which way in order to discover some semblance of balance, letting out pleased whimpers as your body gradually warmed to the sensation of your folds dragging along the black flight suit. Boba’s arms were outstretched on either side of you and you could hear him pressing buttons and occasionally typing in commands, completely ignoring the fact that you were currently rutting on his leg like an akk dog during mating season. His body betrayed his supposed indifference, though - with every thrust of your hips, your knee bumped his groin and you tellingly felt the generous erection sitting there, warm and heavy and hard. You attempted to reach out and grasp it, stroke him through his pants in time with the grinding of your cunt, but Boba batted your hand away as if you were a child being reprimanded for touching a hot nanowave stove.

You continued to knead Boba’s thigh with your pussy, undulating your heat in stuttering figure-eight motions, a familiar tightness beginning to build in your lower belly, the scrape of the material against your swollen clit becoming overwhelming all too soon for your liking. Underneath your own needy whines as the sensation continued towards its crescendo, you could hear Boba groaning from somewhere deep in his chest despite his best efforts to ignore you and your lewd ministrations in his lap.

Your orgasm hit unexpectedly, triggered by an accidental bump of the edge of his thick leather belt to the hood of your clit, and you let out a guttural moan that sounded more animal than human. Days of pent-up release crested over you like the sand waves of Tatooine’s Dune Sea, over and over again, and your thighs trembled around Boba’s leg as your muscles clenched him. Your lover groaned appreciatively above you, one of the few signs he’d given to show that he was paying attention to your movements. You knew he could feel the flood of wetness from between your legs soaking into his flight suit, possibly through to his bare skin beneath, and that thought alone prompted another volley of spasms to your clit until you were utterly spent.

Your breath came in harsh, almost painful pants, your legs shaking violently as you continued to hold yourself up, your bare toes biting into the durasteel floor of the Slave I beneath you. Boba sighed contentedly above you, the underside of his helmet nipping at the crown of your hair, one strong arm finally looped around your back, bracing you against his chest. You collapsed forward on the reassuring coolness of his breastplate, laying your sweaty cheek against the cold beskar as you shivered through the aftershocks of your orgasm. The relief you felt, after so long, was indescribable. You could have fallen asleep there in that moment, nude from the waist down, straddling Boba Fett’s thigh in the cockpit of his ship, drowsy on the rush of endorphins still flooding through your body. In your relaxed state, it took you a moment to realize that Boba had begun speaking, and you cracked an eye open as the gravity of his words hit you.

“Kriff, you’re so wet, so beautiful for me. Are you ready, cyare?” He cooed sweetly, and before you could even question what you were ready for, Boba pushed you upwards slightly with his legs and his hold on you momentarily faltered, the sound of fabric being shuffled about filling the room. You then knew what he was up to and began hyperventilating in anticipation, wiggling your bottom as the Mandalorian worked himself into position beneath you.

Boba pushed inside of you roughly, and you let out a choked scream, biting down on the swaths of black material circling his throat. Even though you had already cum, had been constantly horny for days, you still weren’t prepared for the sudden intrusion of Boba’s girth into your cunt, your walls spasming around him violently, the sensations too much for your overstimulated body to handle. Boba shushed you softly as you let out several overwhelmed sobs at the burning, stinging presence inside of you. You could feel the blunt head of him pressing against your cervix, an almost unbearable sharpness that you craved despite the discomfort. You knew you’d be able to feel him there for days after, and a pleasant shudder wracked your body.

“Easy there, little one, easy . I’ve got you. Just stay still, mesh’la .” Boba attempted to shush you, patting your back and readjusting his hold on you as you squirmed and gasped in his arms, but you couldn’t stay still if you tried. You attempted to push your hips against his, get some semblance of a rhythm going, but Boba tsk ed, the light pressure he’d had on your waist becoming an iron grip, almost to the point of pain, and you stilled your movements, whining in protest.

“Boba, please … I need to move …” You begged plaintively, tears once again springing to your eyes The laugh you received in response was almost sadistic in sound, and you moaned out of a raw mixture of pain and pleasure when Boba gave a slight roll of his hips, the head of his cock scraping your cervix. When he spoke, his tone was almost delightfully evil, and it made you shudder under his hold.

“Oh no , sweet one. You’ve been such an annoyance to me for the entirety of our journey, and as I said before… I’m busy, and after the way you’ve behaved, I’m not going to let you get what you want that easily. Letting you get yourself off on my thigh was just a tease.” His gloved fingers lazily crawled over your exposed clit, and you hissed at the brief contact, before it was excruciatingly pulled away, Fett’s hand reaching back up to the Slave ’s console again.

“You’re going to sit here on my cock until our next jump point, understand? Nice and quiet, now. If you try to push yourself down on me or wiggle around like a little brat, you’ll be banished to our sleeping quarters until we land, or until you learn to behave like someone your age. Is that clear, cyare?” His voice was sickly sweet, menacing, low and raspy in his throat. You could tell by that alone just how turned on he was, and his length twitched inside of you.

Without waiting for a verbal answer, Boba gave another painfully slow roll of his hips, igniting that fire within your belly once more, and you groaned aloud in reply, burying your face in the dark cloth protecting his neck, choosing to ignore the dark chuckle. He could be so unfair, so karking cruel at times, but you always found yourself coming back for more… and you had a feeling he had no idea how much you were actually enjoying this.

It was going to be a long trip.

#boba fett #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x reader

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nighttimepixels · 3 years

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TALK TO US ABOUT MASS EFFECT I HAVE BEEN AN INSANE MASS EFFECT/SHAKARIAN TRASH PERSON SINCE 20-FUCKING-11 AND LEMME TELL YOU THOSE FEELINGS HAVENOT TARNISHED A SINGLE FRACTION IN THOSE TEN YEARS OH MY GOOOOOOODDDSSSS!!!!!!!

I DEMAND A PLAY-BY-PLAY UP TO THE MINUTE OF YOUR REACTIONS TO EVERYTHING!!!!

you are so valid and I totally see why everyone I've ever mentioned it to loves the hell out of it

aksdjlsdfj I meannnn if you want to hear my rambling about it then hell yeah

Okay, gonna put this below the cut to save everyone else XD also- since I'm not leaving this Mass Effect obsession anytime soon, if you're not interested in seeing occasional posts about it, please feel free to block the tag "night plays ME"~

(mild spoilers ahead??)

((also for real I mean it when I say this is rambling as hell lol, apologies and no stress if absolute no one reads all this))

OKAY SO Mass Effect 1-

Stars help me, I was honestly hooked right from the start?? Like even in Legendary Edition (the combined trilogy just re-released in one "can play it on one system + minor improvements", for anyone who doesn't know) where it's smoothed out, of course it's obvious that ME1 is a decade old... but the foundation for these relationships are all there and gods I love them already.

Like - Kaiden right off the top is a delightful good fightin lad, what the hell. I've heard that he's viewed as 'bland' by a good portion of the fan community but I dunno, he's a delight and even more complex by the time 2 rolls around and you encounter him on Horizon, it was honestly Ashley I was way more meh about - mostly because before you can learn about her family history/etc, she comes off as hella xenophobic and I was immediately offended for my growing space family that she didn't like/trust all the aliens around, pfff.

(she gets redeemed a bit through further actions/evolving thoughts, but I thought in retrospect it was a bummer that they didn't flip the order there, give her a chance to be liked before the complicating factor of being so rude about aliens >:c that then she could grow from... ah well. Apparently she has a good arc but uh, let's just say I chose Kaiden at the "key junction" in the latter part of the game so I won't be seeing anymore of Ashley uh... anytime soon, haha.)

Garrus??? Is??????? The ABSOLUTE best???????????

I liked him from the start, I'm always a bit of a sucker for a rogue-detective "the system won't bring this bastard to justice, so I've got to" type and all their moral shadiness XD But he just gets better, honestly, and where I'm at in ME2 (right before the Reaper IFF mission, as of typing this, with everyone's loyalty!) I am only digging myself deeper into this hole-

-*wheezing* okay anyways -

Wrex is AMAZING I love fightin' middle-aged krogan bastard, gods. Liara is great too, I'm a sucker for a wlw relationship (playing fem!Shepard, so) - buuuut I'll admit she's a bit more one-note in ME1. Last week while I was still on ME1 I remember hearing (while trying to dodge spoilers) that her arc is really good, though. I think they leaned a little hard on the 'innocent but sexy' sterteotype on her (so despite the yikes aspect of a few of the things I've learned in ME2, lol, I actually really like the complexity that's been added to her character.)

Saved Liara first, so by the time I got to Noveria and had the standoff with Benezia there was the chance to have emotions over Liara having to face her TwT and of course, I made the questionable but quality decision to free Queen Rachni heheh. no ragrets

More than a blow-by-blow of my choices though I totally wanna take the chance to say that even in the mild jankiness of ME1 (goddammit, the Mako.... please..... please just go up this impossible cliff I just want to resource hunt-) the way that the lore, both obvious/key to main plot and the lesser/filler/background/world-building kinds... I just love it. It incorporates it well, you can go ham in the codex learning more, or just dive into the basics - it's clearly a complex galaxy (and they do an even better job in 2 of fleshing it out further), and it never really felt overwhelming. It was pretty natural figuring it all out-!

Plus the interesting implications of resource hunting amongst the sapient races, and the little side missions you better bet I did every one of- there's so much rich depth in the story if you do 'em!! (And that lead with that Keeper side mission...? Looking back, damn, clever foreshadowing-!!!)

And oh my gods, Ilios??? hell yeah. I loved that mission so much, especially having Garrus & Kaiden with me when talking to the hologram/computer, and more than anything, that last sprint in the Mako trying to get to the jump before it closed-???

yeet the boi-

Also mannn I love a good setpiece, and having to go up the side of the elevator, space-side?? such a cool setup!!

Plus it felt good having been Paragon enough (as simple as the good v bad vibe system is, I don't hate it, lol) to avoid one of the Saren fights, ngl. And the er, "second fight" with Sovereign-Saren.... hell yeah

... I'll admit I had to double check my choice re whether to save the Council. I did in the end, but I swear, sometimes the way they phrase things I'm like ".... okay but Garrus is right, defeating Sovereign is more important than these few leaders??????" woops. Listen, priorities, is all I'm saying..... (￣ヮ￣|||)ゞ

'Course later they emphasize (in ME2) that there were 10,000 people on that same ship and I was like well I wouldn't have second guessed if I'd known that, I mean c'mon-

Also I did indeed romance Liara in this one, so I got that scene ;Dc But,,,, I also knew by the end that I was totally gonna romance Garrus in 2 since he's an option then finally,,,,, lemme tell you the guilt as I waffled over whether to romance Liara bc of it. hahaha.

Aaaaand Mass Effect 2-

So I'm only up to right before the Reaper IFF Mission, so I don't know the ending, etc etc lol. That said, I've just finished every side mission I've found with the exception of the Shadowbroker Quest and the Arrival Quest (I've heard the latter basically leads into ME3, and the former is best either right before the Omega 4 jump or in postgame).

So from the start - fuck yeah fuck yeah what a high adrenaline start Shepard noooooo but also yes save Joker aH-

The motion comic too hot damn nice job

I loved this setup, seriously - especially forcing Shep into this situation, having to work with/for Cerberus, and the compelling reasoning given behind "why" they do what they do (I especially found it a good point that the Salarians have the Task Force, the Asaris the Commandos, the Turians the- etc... like, true, when you put it like that, having a similar group advancing human interests/solving human interstellar problems is pretty reasonable...). That said, I love too that it really isn't shied away from how Cerberus is nonetheless fucked up - or its at least done fucked up stuff.

Listen, I still think some messed up stuff is gonna be revealed in 2's endgame......... after that Horizon mission and the Collector's ship???? TIM I SEE YOU YOU SHADY MF-

aaanyways lol...

I'm so so glad on a gameplay level they nixed the Mako style exploration. A few Hammerhead missions are fine and a lot more focused than the slippery ass navigation in that glorified ATV, pfff. The probes are a neat way of getting after similar resources - and more importantly, having good levels and some good hubs (the Zakera Wards, Omega, Ilium, etc) is way way more fun than having a more 'sprawling' space that is.... a lot of empty nonsense, lol.

Then there's the fact that we get Joker right off the bat and you can interact with him so much - and him and EDI??? Get out gods I love them. Kasumi is so right when she says they sound like a bickering old married couple lol. I have a terrible feeling that some shit is gonna happen with EDI..... but I don't think she's evil as-is, at least.

Side-eying the hell out of those "access forbidden" parts of her that she doesn't even know.... and the fact that her AI core has a locked door access................... something's gonna happen gdi LEAVE OUR ADOPTED AI ALONE.

(Also Joker pls stop fracturing your thumb on the mute button)

Also please save me there are so many hot aliens in this game,,,,, the xeno/monsterfuckers really comin' through strong in the sequels............... doin' the lord's work........................................

In general, I love how many levels ME stepped up in two with complexity and interwoven narratives!! Like, to the point it'd be almost a drag to replay ME1, even though it was fun going through it (if occasionally a bit tedious with the cookie cutter rando planet science/mine facilities, lol). Like, just from how fun and interesting ME2 is, mostly! more of all the pre-introduced races, plus new ones, plus more filling in of intragalactic politics, and more interesting implications of all these space-faring races mixing....

Also gods WREX and his planet holy shit,,,,, fuckin' hell yeah my man get their shit together and also adopt Grunt yes good-

And Mordin??? My singing semi-evil scientist best friend forced to confront his choices more than he thought he ever would have???? With some of the best ongoing general report chatter of all the companions??

(when I tell you I choked on my coffee when I talked to him after confirming romance choice w/ Garrus and that 'pamphlet' and 'anaphalactic shot if ingesting-' kajsldkfjsldfjk)

Like, fuck, the fact that they actually dive into the mixed morality and horrors of the genophage, and you can confront Mordin on it, for good reason, yet he still stands his ground, until finally some bits of his loyalty mission seem to... affect him, and I'm guessing might set up things for 3 with him? Unsure, but either way, damn, the fact that they start to dig into it...

And Taliiiii my beloved forbidden alien wife TwT her loyalty mission was SO GOOD. I love how varied they all are?? Getting to defend her and discover what she'd unwittingly been a part of-!!

Zaeed is a bastard but tbh I love that he is and that he's unapologetic in him - and Kasumi omg, best thief. A heist?? Gods, yes- I love our couch lounge chats XD

Samara is..... illegally.......... she's an illegally powerful and beautiful and eloquent MILF...........................

(.... listen I'm sapphic as hell and I'm kicking my own ass for picking her up last aksjdlfksjdfl - but her loyalty mission, damn. And seeing how there's this interesting cultural subset, and the struggle with the Asari in that they unquestioningly accept/respect justicars, but also know that the impact outside their culture is a diplomacy nightmare waiting to happen-)

,.,,,,,T,,, Thane,,,,,

I am weak for morally implicated murder dads okay?? And that voice??? His mannerisms?????? How you first see him, and that prayer after assassinating her...???????? And his history/his people's history with the hanar, gods I love how messy it is, it feels so much more real!

Also Jack is a mess and I love her (and want to get her some therapy, omg), and her and Miranda nearly duking it out after you've done both their loyalty missions??? so good and makes a lot of sense-! Honestly I would love more interactions between teammates on the ship, but there's already so much the devs had to balance I can't blame 'em for minimizing, heh. But suffice to say I also love Miranda and Jacob, even if I'm softest for my alien crew XD Hell yeah Jacob, we'll get loud and spill drinks on the citadel indeed TwT

.... I could write a whole essay on how much I love Garrus oTL Perhaps because he and Tali are the throughlines from 1 on your 2 crew, I have some of the strongest feelings about them... but genuinely, he was one of my favorite companions in the first game, and how you find him as Archangel in two? Getting to help him fight his way out after he's gone nearly 48 hours straight fighting off three gangs alone, jfc. His vengeance quest and what can happen there.... That line? fuck me, that line -

It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don't know what to do with gray...

How DARE you come for my heart like this, devs holy shit

(also, some other choice faves so far from the series from him include We can disobey suicidal orders?? and This wasn't in my training manual... [in 1, if you have him with you @ th Thorian fight] and his whole.... pop the heat sink - in his romance ;Dc)

asdasdfksadjfkl like I said I can write an essay on him PFFF suffice to say I'm very looking forward to his romance scene and where things go in 3

But yeah gods I'm just gonna keep rambling if I'm not careful lol. Gods I don't even know what to talk about it's all so good and while I can understand people roasting the obviousness of Paragon V Renegade (v neutral) choices/alignments, I think they do a pretty damn good job in 2 of pushing it further - to the point that there were some times that I accidentally got renegade points and I wasn't that mad, haha. There's so much fun in the interactions that I just have a good time anyways~

I have so many thoughts about TIM (The Illusive Man) and Cerberus.... theories evolving galore............... and like, what the hell!! Omega 4 going to the center of the galaxy is such a cool twist, goddamn - though my heart still breaks at losing Kaiden (his line if you haven't romanced him?? about feeling like he lost a limb when he lost you??? holy shit.... but I also can't blame him for not trusting Cerberus to the point of it affecting his ability to trust Shepard... like fuck Shep go after himmmm) I'm really excited to see where that goes since he comes back in 3, and what the fuck happens with Cerberus bc while I love the fact that obviously there are a lot of people in it for the right reasons, doing good work, there are those that are doing the opposite, and I have a very bad feeling about where TIM will end up landing....

All that said though I need to do the Reaper IFF mission (where I'm lightly spoiled as to getting That Boy, but not how/what happens to make it so - just that it's apparently wise to have all your side missions done before getting him...) and the actual Omega 4 jump. So we'll see what happens and what I think about it from there heheh!

.... major kudos and genuine props if you made it here to the end, I am so sorry for not editing on condensing all this, and appreciate you so much ;w;

#night answers #night plays ME #(yes that's a purposeful pun lol)#((i sure have played myself by starting this series its so good aksdjflskjfd))

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hacknet · 2 years

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My Top Posts in 2021

how did it take me so long to realize spamton isnt just spam emails hes a spam email worm. which is why he goes into the loaded disk/robot and ralsei refers to him as a corrupted program

and also sharefun (the first virus to spread through email) was made in february 1997 which is why it would be his favorite year (and not in fact to do with the spam email black hole thing and email worms get around that anyway by being sent from the victims ip addresses)

37 notes • Posted 2021-10-15 11:53:58 GMT

siblings sketches :)

45 notes • Posted 2021-03-05 08:51:01 GMT

57 notes • Posted 2021-05-05 22:07:15 GMT

ublock origin my absolute beloved. i can block anything with it ill block ads. ill block the twitter trending panel. ill block shitty youtube premium popups. ill block tumblrs compass button. ill block the send tweet button i don't give a shit

80 notes • Posted 2021-08-26 11:19:17 GMT

so i was looking through pathologic’s dialogue file looking for some specific interaction, but instead i found a bunch of unused letters announcing theatre performances, from mark to daniil! the end of day text here is a separate string in the file but they’re also listed here for clarity.

The life of the immortal man was cut short by a lethal disease. This sickness is the most appropriate shape the evil spirits of the earth may assume—if they exist. Come to the Theatre, without delay! We're putting on a play, today! A daring show, if I may say, A show, we call... "THE MANEATER" End of Day One

87 notes • Posted 2021-10-22 03:19:40 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #this is so funny. it doenst do readmores so it tried to add the entire lettters post #my post #tthis is too funny not to post. you get to see sfw artemy again though you love him right #oh shti i forgot #hollow knight spoilers

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mego42 · 3 years

Note

Hii!! I was wondering if you plan on continuing Swear on a Silver Knife?? That first chapter got me hoooked!

Hi!!! I super am and I am so! extremely! pleased! you like it, that fic is my weird little unexpected but deeply beloved baby tbh.

I’ve been making myself to stay focused on song bc it’s so close to being done, but once that’s up, I’m getting right back into swear. I already have ch 2 fully drafted (though in need of some rewrites and editing), 3 halfway drafted, and the rest worked out in a pretty detailed outline, so I’m feeling good about picking it back up once song's finished.

in the meantime, please enjoy this snippet from ch 2 for your troubles (it is nsfw in case you’re in a pharmacy or garden center or what have you)

Beth looks to the basket she’s using in place of a bedside drawer. Eyes the little pouch containing Annie’s congratulations-on-divorcing-your-trash-husband present. It’s an idea, anyway. It’s not like she has to think about—she won’t think about...anyone—thing. Specific.

Shucking off her jeans, Beth flops down on the air mattress and grabs the little pink vibrator. Her old one—and oh God does she hate thinking about it, wondering what happened to it, who’d seen it—had been a pretty standard issue: cylindrical, twist the base, press the button, and there you have it. This one’s smaller, intended only for external use, came with modes. It was quieter too—not that that mattered anymore.

Lying back, she wiggles a little, trying to get comfortable, grimacing as the plastic mattress squeaks against the floor. She really should bump an actual bed up her list. If for no other reason, her back can’t take much more of this. Then, closing her eyes, she presses the vibrator on, jolting as it hums to life.

For years Beth’s...alone time has been pretty, well, vague. She’s never been all that into porn. She knows there’s quality, feminist stuff out there but has never quite had the time or patience to find it on her own, and the thought of asking...

It’s bad enough that her little sister has bought her not one but two vibrators now; Beth doesn’t think she could handle Annie’s commentary on Beth knowing or not knowing how to use them.

And Ruby, well. Beth’s always been acutely aware her marriage hasn’t been remotely comparable to Ruby and Stan’s and she’s never been able to bring herself to talk to her friend about anything that might bring that to the surface. Beth knows Ruby wouldn’t judge her, but in some ways the thought of her sympathy is worse.

Anyway, as a result, Beth’s developed a very...potent imagination.

She imagines sensations, feelings, being touched deliberate and intent and knowing. Being able to let herself go. It’s always been general or vague—hands, lips, skin—she’s never been big on specific scenarios.

It’s only recently that her fantasies have turned...particular.

Hands have developed calluses that fit the grip of a pistol, adorned by rings, a cold and biting counterpoint to her flushed skin. Lips have turned lush and expressive, quirking with sardonic amusement, falling slack in awed reverence. Skin has become burnished and velvety smooth, stretching taut over hard muscle, decorated with swirling black ink.

No.

Beth’s eyes pop open and she stares at the blank, white ceiling above her. The soft buzz of the vibrator carries on, even as the heat that’d started to gather dissipates.

She huffs out a breath.

You think any of them can do this to you? You think anyone else can?

Gritting her teeth, Beth shakes her head, forcibly clearing her mind, then closes her eyes and tries again.

She concentrates on the hum of the vibrator, the thrumming sensation against her skin. She focuses on each spike of her pulse, following each thread of heat twining through her, imagining fingers drawing patterns across her skin.

She thumbs the intensity up a notch, a soft moan escaping as she clamps down on nothing.

Her legs tingle, muscles twitching as the heat crawls down them and Beth digs her heels into the air mattress, her hips canting, searching, chasing a memory. A phantom hand slides up her thigh and she throws her head back, imagining a cool night breeze against her fevered skin, the sound of laughter echoing across a city square underscored by the sounds of late night traffic only a few feet away and when she blinks her eyes open, for a split second she sees a face silhouetted against a streetlight and she bucks, coming up off the mattress and—

No.

Flopping back with a frustrated groan, Beth fists her free hand in her blankets, gritting her teeth and shaking her head to clear the memory.

Okay, fine, maybe she wants specific. It doesn’t have to be—

Casting about for a memory, any memory she can latch on to and use to block out...anything else, Beth remembers the class this morning and Bobby’s hand splayed wide across Mandy’s stomach.

That’ll work.

She clicks to the next setting, gasping a little as the steady buzz turns to a rolling wave, a pulsing sensation that ebbs and flows, drawing out her pleasure with each undulation.

Beth whimpers, spreading her legs a little more to get a better angle. Her eyes fall shut and she concentrates on the image, imagining the feel of a hand—Bobby’s hand—big and warm and heavy against her stomach, fingers spread wide and dipping low, then lower. The heat builds, smoothly, steadily, each cycle of the toy stoking it higher, and higher, and pretty soon she’s arching, rolling her hips in time to the vibrations.

She flicks the vibrator up, the buzz intensifying and she bucks. Her necklace shifts, the charm a shock of cold as it flips and falls against the hollow of her throat. She remembers the feel of another pendant dangling, tapping against her collarbone in time to the movement inside her. Remembers tangling her fingers in the chain, the links biting into the crease of her palm as she used it to tug him down to her. Then the taste of him, rich and smooth on her tongue, as she’s kissing him and kissing him and kissing him and he’s kissing her back, a nearly frantic urgency in the press of his lips and the way his breath gusts shakily against hers as they move together, scaling a peak, the edge looming closer and closer and then she’s—

Not thinking about Bobby anymore.

No.

Beth rips the vibrator away, her whole body trembling, muscles spasming and heat pin-balling around her nervous system so close but not quite enough to push her over.

She flops back down on the bed, toy still clamped in her hand, humming uselessly, the noise loud and obscene when it’s not muffled by her skin. She stares up at the ceiling, blinking away the memory of the blank expanse awash with the afternoon sun, streaming in through the gauzy curtains.

The ceiling stares back.

Fuck.

#oh god i miss this fic #am def hype to jump back into it #ty v v v much for asking about it anon!!#my fic #swear on a silver knife #shut up meg

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Mickey Mouse Birthday Shortstravaganza!

It’s Mickey and Minnie’s Birthday! It was 92 Years Ago Today everyone’s faviorite mouse came in on a tide of whistling, romance and animal abuse and swept into America’s hearts and wallets. Okay I am a day late on this, I had a busy day, but hey a belated celebratoin’s still good right? Right? Eh i’m doing it anyway. Anyway since then he’s been one of animations most iconic characters, and while out of the classic power trio I vastly prefer donald and goofy, they still woudln’t be around without Disney’s big cheese and having not seen a ton of Mickey’s shorts, I felt I owed it to the big eared one to take a look at a bunch of his shorts for his birthday and see how I liked em. If your curious about my previous Donald Duck marathon, it’s CLICK THIS LINK. Unlike last time all of these shorts are on Disney+ as more of Mickey’s library is on there and one or two of these were added recently, as Disney tends to add a few a month. I do wish there were more on there.. but unlike with say the handful of shows they haven’t put on there, i’m a bit more forgiving here. For one thing, YouTube has all the shorts available from various uploaders and DIsney hasn’t touched them despite Plus’ launch. Given like most companies Disney usually has their bots a cirlcing for their content, this has to be delebrate on there part and it’s a good gesture from the company. So while not in crisp HD like the Plus copies, or as easily avaliable, you can find any short that’s happened. So the shorts not all being up at once isn’t an issue like most of the shows that are absent on Plus.

They also heavily need to cherry pick their library as some shorts simply haven’t aged well or have offensive stuff. With the exception of “The Beach Picnic”, which has a racist caricature of native americans via ants.. yes really, most of the shorts are fine to show kids, and have aged pretty well. And as my last marathon showed some shorts.. just haven’t. While not you know racist, seriously why is the Beach Picnic on there?, “Donald’s Penguin”, while utterly adorable at first, ends with Donald trying to murder a baby penguin with a shot gun. No amount of content warnings is going to get past one of their beloved icons pointing a shotgun at a baby. While Disney’s self conciousness can be silly, the splash edit and not putting the Darkwing Duck episode “Hot Spells” on plus for instance, this is one time when I can agree with them: if someone is curious about a paticuarlly offensive short or a propoganda one, youtube exists. But given Plus is trying to be all ages and dosen’t have censoring they have to be careful what they put on there, and I can respect that. I don’t think anyone’s crying a river over the fact that the goofy short where his reflection keeps saying “Hey Fat”, over and over while he struggles with his weight isn’t on Disney Plus and thankfully never will be. But seriously get rid of the “Beach Picnic”. It’s not a good short and you already have one batch of native american stereotypes with “Peter Pan”, I don’t think racist ants are the hill you want to die on disney.

So yeah, this time all of these are from Disney Plus, and since I watched them all at once, their in Watch order rather than chronological like last time. So with all that out of the way...

After the cut

1. Steamboat Willie (1928): It’s All Fun and Games Until Mickey Strangles an Innocent Duck Starting from the obvious source, Steamboat Willie was the start of Mickey’s career. And it’s.. okay. The animation is fantastic and the first half is pretty good: Theirs a pretty good gag with one of the cows. But the finale, with Mickey abusing various animals just isn’t that funny A LITTLE rattling of an animal for comedy is fine.. but the things Mickey does here are just sociopathic> And yes I know it was the 1920′s, but even in that lawless, racist, sexist time, they knew better than to strangle a duck, or, in the moment that puts it over the top, remove suckling pigs fromt heir mom and then play a pig’s teats like an insturment to make it squeal musically.. I assure you I did not make this up. That actually happens. The pacing is also fairly slow at points, with some gags dragged out, though that can be chalked up to having no way to edit the damn thing, so that part I can forgive more. What makes up for it, like I said, are some good jokes, and some gorgeous animation. Decades later and while clearly made a long time ago, it still looks vibrant and really pops even in black and white. It shows just how talented Disney was and how far the company could go with this medium. One last thing to note is Mickey’s Early personality. While he’d retain trickster aspects at times, here he bounces between the loveable jolly mouse we’d come to know for the rest of his career who sometimes has a wild streak.. and a total asshole who strangles a duck. It’s just intresting to see such a diffrent side of him, most of which would end up going to Donald over time. Overall the short is decent, not the best of Disney’s catalogue but worth a watch for the historical significance despite it’s shortcomings, pun unintended.

2. Thru the Mirror (1936): That Was a Weird One This was easily my favorite of the bunch and as of now, my favorite Mickey Mouse Theatrical Short. Part of it is that it’s entirely bonkers; The film STARTS with Mickey , sound asleep, some how astral projecting as his soul, his spirit or whatever lead shis body and having been reading Alice Thorugh the Looking Glass, goes into a mirror world. But instead of encountring evil goatee mickey, he encounters a bunch of living objects and a bunch of fun set pieces for jokes ensue. He dances with playing cards, fights an army of them, has a sword fight with the king after dancing with the queen which.. no Mickey, bad mickey, your in a relationship and so is she. Bad Mouse bad. It is entirely fucking insane, even including a living nut cracker which.. words can’t.. look

They.. they had to know how this looked right? did the director have a ball busting fetish? I mean okay if he did, nothing wrong with that, but maybe don’t put it in your children’s cartoon. That being said it does eat the shells which I find creative. And that’s what really makes this one pop. The creativity. Not a single minute is boring, every minute has something intresting going on, but without throwing too muchi n your face. It’s just a wonderful short and one that like Mr. Duck Steps out, i’ll be rewatching a LOTTTT.

3. Mickey’s Rival (1936): Mortimer: The Original Bro From the same year we have disappointment. Having grown up with the disney classic House of Mouse, I was a huge fan of Mortimer. So when I first saw this, I was happy to see where he came from.. then justifably blocked it out of my mind till this review. While I love mortimer, I love Mickey having a sleazy rival and one diffrent than Pete who has different goals and tactics than the big guy. But his debut just has him as an obnoxious snickering bro.. which to be fair is who he is, but without the venre of charm his later version would have. Mortimer just spends the short being a pranking douche, and blatantly hitting on Minnie in front of Mickey while their on a date. Which even in an open relationship is a no no, so he has no leg to stand on.. metaphorically. He also walks weird in this one because, and this is true, he’s carying 9 volt batteries in his pants. Yes really. That’s the level of Douche we’re dealing with. Someone so up their own ass they carry batteries int heir pocket instead of money or a mask or children’s trading cards like a normal person or a me. What makes it frustrating is Minnie just swoons over the guy. And not like “Awww he’s so funny”, I mean romantically then has the gaul to say “your just jealous” when Mickey is understandably fuming over the jackass who swooped in, pranked him, is hitting on his girlfriend in front of him by teasing a bull, and in general is just the worst. Yes.. yes he is. Justifably. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but there’s a line between some dude bro like Mortimer getting mad your friends with someone you could be in a relationship with, boy, girl, neither, both, whatever your into, and Mickey getting mad his girlfriend is chuckling all over her ex who agian, crashed their date and treated him like garbage and is very transparently hitting on her in the middle of it. It’s also just not a very funny short, outside of the bit pictured and tha’ts more for the sheer aburdity of Mortimer elctifying his pant for a really dumb gag about stealing people’s pants button. He’s very lucky we didn’t see Mickey’s Epic Mickey is what i’m saying. But given he’s a frat bro, the 1930′s version granted but a bro nonetheless, he’d probably find that hilarious until he noticed the sheer size and scope. Overall a forgetable, frustrating short. The one bright spot is mickey and mortimer’s cars which have faces and stuff and look neat.. otherwise it was just a waste of my time and the only good thing it did was bringing Mortimer into our lives. And that ain’t nothing.

4. Mickey Down Under (1948): ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

This is a quick one.. because this one was a vacum. I mean I can at least say for Mickey’s Rival it’s interesting.. i’ts not good but it’s interesting. this is just.. Mickey farts around with a boomerang with his dog and then pisses off an ostrich. There’s not really a lot of consequence or intrest is what i’m saying. I can’t even find a good opening to make a letterkenny joke. No one got close to fucking an ostrich here. It’s telling by the fact theirs no gif’s of this one that no one cares and it baffles me this is one of the ones Disney chose to gussy up for D+ release. But still no donald messing around with a robot?

5. The Band Concert (1935): That’s More Like It. Okay scooting back a year we have the band concert. This is my third time watching this one and it’s a delight. Like the last one I don’t have a ton to say.. but it’s more because this one is just so good rather than because it wasted my time. It’s got a fun concept and the breakout performance from my boy donald duck as he constantly fucks with the band’s performance by either getting in their faces or hilariously pulling Flute’s out of thin heir. I miss that gimmick for donald, his love of pulling objects out of the either via magic and shenanigans. They should bring it back. Also his shenanigans remind me of opus and that’s never a bad thing.

Also Horace takes off his shirt. For the Ladies. A Classic for good reason.

6. On Ice (1935): Donald is a Bastard Man Another great one from the same year. This time around we have what i’ve come to call a Mickey and the Gang Messaround. This is back when Donald and Goofy were supporting characters, so generally each of the big three do something, usually coming together for the climax. In this case Mickey tries to help Minnie with her skating, with him adorably following her around with a pillow before showing off for her, just really sweet stuff. Goofy’s bit is hilariously dumb, as fitting my boy, as he feeds fish tobaco to get them to spit into a spitoon, and tries to club them, with predictable results. While not the most enivrionmentally friendly just the sheer oddness, the fact it sort of works minus him actually clubbing them, and one of hte fish smacking him in the face all make it work. The only bit that reallyd osen’t is Donald and pluto... it was present a bit before but here illustrates why I really dread Pluto based shorts. While I don’t hate the dog, he’s a dog I love dogs, most of the gags in his old shorts, and even up to mouseworks are him either being blamed for shit that’s not his fault, a pet peve of mine, or being tourtured in some way...

But dosen’t work at all now. He puts the poor dog on skates and then laughs at him and even sings a song mocking the poor dog, before justifably nearly ending up going over a watterfall, then ending up clubbed in the head. Good. I love donald but good god is he unsympathetic here.. and for some reason they teamed the two up again for more shorts! Why. It’s why I don’t get why Pluto was the star of his own shorts: if this is all they had.. why do it? Was the 30′s, 40′s and 50′s equilvent of a micheal bay audience really that into dog abuse? So yeah otherwise a good short but that segment drags it down. not Donald’s best work.

7. Clock Cleaners(1937): This is a Great One Not much to say on this one. It’s pretty good, has some fun set pieces, and some great jokes from all three characters. Mickey deals with a seagull, donald effs with a main spring and Goofy fights some statues. All good clean fun. My lack of brevity is more because I don’t have any jokes rather than this genuinely being bad. It’s pretty good.

8.. Mickey and the Seal(1948): More Pluto Torture Porn!

This one’s more of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it is really cute, as a young seal ends up going home with mickey after he visits the zoo to feed them fish. On the other hand.. it’s mostly Pluto chasing after the seal, Mickey being kind of a dick to pluto and not getting he clearly saw SOMETHING in his house, and then teasing him at the end despite him having been right. That being said the ending, with the seal brining back all it’s buddies to mickey’s house, is fricking amazing. ALso the seals in this unvierse who aren’t antrho can speak. That.. that raises a lot of questions I don’t think disney can answer.

9. Ye Olden Days (1933): Jaunty Dueling Music Now this.. this was a fun one. Mickey and Minnie head to Medivil times, proving that the current shorts tendency to jaunt to various settings isn’t a new thing, and it’ sjust a much of a fun change up here as it was there. Mickey, a wondering minstral, ends up trying to rescue Minnie after her father throws her in a dungeon for not wanting to marry Prince Dippy Dog, who hopes she can learn to love him. I can’t tell if he’s genuine or a dick here. But it’s fun, especially the part where, after Minnie declares she loves mickey which.. it’s been a few hours slow down, they decide on a duel and thus sing some ragtime, 1930′s getting ready for duel music that’s just catchy. if X Of Swords ever gets a movie, I want to use this song. Just.. really good stuff. A fun short with some great gag,s a great concept, and my boy goofy as the villian. What’s not to like? Alright one more.

10. MIckey’s BIrthday Party (1942): Big Chicken Breasts We end on another all together now, Mickey and the Gang Messaround that was a great note to end on. I did watch another short, Pluto’s Birthday party.. but it was both more of a Pluto short and more Pluto torture nonsense, so yeah, skipping that one, as I ended up one short of my 12 goal because I can’t count, apparently. So Mickey gets 10, but this one’s a good note to go out on.

Minnie throws a suprise party for mickey which almost turns into a live sex celebration as Mickey clearly is a wee bit horny going in. But it turns into a fun dance party, with Donald throwing out razzes like a good buddy, Goofy making a cake, and some fun gags with a piano they all bought him. It’s a really good short. That’s the problem with Mickey Shorts and doing all D+ ones: There just isn’t the weirdly offensive stuff to talk about there is. He’s not a bad character, but there’s a reason in every short that features all three, Donald and Goofy easily outshine him. Mickey’s not a bad character, but when not in trickster mode, there just isn’t a lot for him to do. It’s why the comics reinvented him, much like they did for donald, into a plucky detective/reporter who reguarly sovles crimes. He’s not bad, and as seen with Ye Olden Days and Thru the Miror, his blank slateness cna be put to good effect and house of mouse gave him more of a personality, but here he’s just the bland good guy to Donald’s loveable scmap and goofy’s loveable dumbass. It’s an issue comedy has to this day: having a lead whose just.. not as intresting as the rest of the ensemble. There is weirdness to note, as Donald dances with Clara Cluck> That’s not the weird part, he and daisy took a while to be etched in stone. The weird parts are 1. Donald wearing a sombrero and smoking a cigar, and 2. Clara’s MASSIVE boobs.. yes really. Clara Cuck has giant breasts. Like actual boobs that sway around while she dances with donald. it’s.. bizzare. Not terrible, who doesn’t like big chicken boobs but just.. really really weird to see ina Disney cartoon.But yeah it’s jus ta fun note to end on.

And that was MIckey’s Birthday special. I enjoyed it even if I had less to say than I thought. If you liked this review, you can comission your own for five bucks, just hit up my pms or my discord , avaliable on request. You can check out my ohter disney reviews in the disney tab on my blog and until next time, ther’es always another rainbow.

#mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #goofy goof #clara cluck #hoarace horsecollar #clarabelle cow #mortimer mouse #mickey's birthday #classic disney shorts

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vivianswers · 4 years

Text

[Blind Date]

JW: Anyong GyeoUl-ah~ I heard from IkJun that you're getting off early today. Let's get dinner?

As GyeoUl finishes up the patients' chart for today, she sees his text and smiles. She immediately replies "Yes, Gyuso-nim~" and excitingly looks forward to dinner time.

Since there is still an hour left of her shift yet all the charts today are finished, GyeoUl starts to go over the ones for outpatient rounds tomorrow. Suddenly, there is a reminder alert popping up on her phone that reads: Blind Date Dinner with MinHa's doctor friend at Restaurant XYZ, 6:30PM.

GyeoUl starts to panic that she had completely forgotten about this blind date today. She reaches for a chocopie from the snack tray while unnervingly walking back and forth. Sweet is her favorite stress-eating snack after all.

__________________

After seeing how upset GyeoUl was when JeongWon lied to turn down her dinner request, MinHa tasked herself on a quest to find a better suited blind date for her fellow ARMY. However, GyeoUl kept using her night shifts as an excuse to refuse these blind dates. MinHa, of course, would not give up easily. She then begged GyeoUl to say yes to one dinner date with one of her friends, whom she believed would be a perfect match. Minha had also generously bribed her friend with a BTS concert's VIP ticket and 1 month of Egg Drop sandwiches to push GyeoUl to reluctantly agree.

_____________

GyeoUl then texts MinHa asking if it is still ok to somehow cancel today's arranged dinner. Within 5 minutes, big stomping steps can be heard approaching, and then violently pushed open the door is Dr. Chu MinHa, currently looking like a hot mess with unkempt messy hair-bun and dark eye circles, glaring straight at GyeoUl.

"I have had 3 night-shifts in a row and about to cover another one as an emergency because that fox of a coworker pulls the disappearance card again so I need to punch something right now. Please don't let it be you. I had already given up one VIP BTS ticket for you that I extorted for myself from the ungrateful bastard ex-boyfriend to make tonight's dinner happen. And 1 month of Egg Drop Sandwiches. I even made an RSVP at your favorite restaurant. Dr. Jang, you better give me a very good reason to cancel this. Unless you magically have a boyfriend right now, or I will NOT accept anything else."

"Actually I—" GyeoUl pauses as she remembers that they are supposed to keep the relationship a secret for now. "Um… yeah I still don't have a boyfriend yet." She dejectedly answers while looking away.

"Then you better show up to the date tonight." MinHa slammed the door behind her.

Feeling like she had pushed the wrong button on MinHa today, GyeoUl lets out a big sigh and stress-eats another chocopie instead. Ah! Perhaps, Professor Lee IkJun can give me some advice.

GU: Lee Gyuso-nim… GU: MinHa arranged a dinner date for me tonight with her friend. But I want to turn down this date. How do I text him to let him down nicely? IJ: Hello to my favorite Dr. Long Winter IJ: Ah~ MinHa told me about it when she asked me about your surgery schedule this month. IJ: Oh yeah, it is tonight huh? IJ: It's a good thing though. Why would you want to turn him down? You get off early today anyways. IJ: Just go and have fun. IJ: Forget that jerk JeongWon for now~

Of course, I cannot tell Professor Lee the truth either—GyeoUl thought to herself—Maybe I'll just go to dinner and turn him down nicely after. Dr. Chu had put in a lot of effort for this anyways. Sorry Professor Ahn. But should I tell him the truth? Would he be mad? Maybe I should just tell him everything afterwards.

After contemplating back and forth with another chocopie devoured, GyeoUl then texts JeongWon.

GU: Gyuso-nim… GU: Actually, I'm so sorry but I cannot have dinner with you tonight. I forgot that I have something very important to take care of for Dr. Chu. I'm very sorry Gyuso-nim. Can I make it up to you another time?

JeongWon's happy mood from earlier quickly sinks when he sees the texts because he's looking forward to this dinner as well. He even made the RSVP in advance at her favorite restaurant right away. But if she's busy then there's nothing else he can do about it. So he texts back to assure her to not fret over today's dinner.

As he's about to call the restaurant to cancel the RSVP, his office door is suddenly sprung open without a knock.

"JeongWon-ah~ What are you doing tonight? Let's go karaoke! Everyone else is down. I didn't get to sing much last time." – IkJun barges in, uninvited as usual.

JeongWon lets out a sigh, as he presses the restaurant's phone number on his phone. Before he could say anything else, IkJun continues.

"Oh yeah… Did you also know that our Dr. Long Winter has a dinner date tonight with some guy? MinHa seems to have arranged back then when you lied about going to YangPyeong that one time to reject her."

JeongWon pauses, then solemnly stares back at IkJun.

Seeing how he has poked his friend at the right tickled spot, IkJun deliberately spices it up some more. "She even texted me about how excited she is about this date. It is even at her favorite restaurant too."

Jeongwon keeps his silence. His thumb swipes across the phone to cancel the call, while keeping the stern deep-in-thoughts look.

"Anyways… so are you gonna join us or not?" IkJun changes the subject.

"No you guys go ahead. I have something else I need to attend to." JeongWon shoves IkJun out of the way to leave his room. As he walks to the parking structure, he can still hear his friend's irritating words "Ahn JeongWon is no fun!!" echoing through the hall.

-----------------------------------

The time is now 6:40PM. JeongWon approaches the receptionist of the Restaurant XYZ.

"Good evening. My apologies. I'm supposed to have a dinner RSVP at 7PM. Unfortunately, I would have to cancel it. I will take care of any cancellation fee. Also, I would still like to order some entrees for takeout. Would that be alright?"

The receptionist politely reassures him. "No worry, dear customer. Thank you for letting us know. Our cancellation policy is 15 minutes before the RSVP time for any incurred fee, so you’re still good. Here is the takeout menu. Please take your time."

After ordering the takeout, JeongWon scans through the dining area and able to spot his GyeoUl right away. He then chuckles at the fact that her outfit still looks plain and simple, her hair still loosely tied up, but still exudes that raw and innocent beauty that he fell for.

After receiving his takeout food from the receptionist, JeongWon stands still for a while, deep in thought, glances at GyeoUl again, and leaves the restaurant.

------------------------------------

After dinner, the gentleman offers to drive GyeoUl home since it is dark outside, but she respectfully declines as she prefers to ride the subway instead. They both then greet each other goodbye. As the gentleman leaves, GyeoUl takes out her phone, about to call JeongWon regarding today's, then she hears a familiar voice.

"GyeoUl-ah~"

She turns around and sees her beloved Professor Ahn leaning against his car, waiting for her all this time. Both surprised and happy, she dashes towards him.

"Gyuso-nim~ How do you know that I'm here? Ah wait, does that mean you know about today's dinner? But—Ah—I mean… I'm so sorry. I was about to call you and tell—" She tries to push all the words out in a hurry.

"GyeoUl-ah~ it's alright." JeongWon smiles as he pats her head. "I also RSVP-ed this restaurant for us tonight too, so I happened to see you as I went in to cancel the RSVP."

GyeoUl somehow cannot bring herself to say another word. All the practice speeches she had in her head earlier have entirely disappeared. She lowers her head and pouts in deep regret that she should not have gone to this date tonight as she realizes how much it must have pained JeongWon to see it. Noticing her dejected face with tears puddling up, he pulls her into his embrace, with his hand continue to pat her head.

"You couldn't turn Dr. Chu's request down because you had to keep our relationship a secret, right? I'm sorry to have made you lie like this." He sighs. "This whole thing was because of me anyways. If I had not lied about YangPyeong back then, this arranged date would not have happened. So, I guess I am facing the retribution for my lies that had hurt you."

GyeoUl slowly pulls her upper body out of JeongWon's embrace. "Gyuso-nim… I.. really planned to tell you everything right after. Also, nothing happens at dinner either. We each paid for own dinner too. It turns out, he was also coerced by MinHa for tonight's date as well. He also has a girlfriend but coincidentally have to keep their relationship a secret as well, just like us. Ah, he is also a GS surgeon like us, working for Doldam hospital in Gangwon. The interesting thing is he kinda looks like you."

She then tugs herself into his embrace again, this time taking the initiative to hug him tight. "I'm sorry Gyuso-nim. I promise I will firmly turn down all MinHa's arranged dates for me from now on." She lifts her head upwards "I'm... only going to go on dates with you."

JeongWon lovingly locks his gaze on her face, then pretends to sulk. "But in the end, I'm still hurt that my girlfriend had a dinner date with another man."

"What can I do to make it up to you, Gyuso-nim?" – GyeoUl asked with a puzzled look.

"You can… kiss me?"

GyeoUl quickly looks down to hide her blushing cheeks at JeongWon's teasing.

Witnessing the satisfying adorable reaction of his girlfriend, he then chuckles.

"Just kidding. I was only teas—"

Those words are suddenly blocked by a surprise attack of his girlfriend's lips, boldly pressing against his, for about a few seconds, then she looks down again to hide her even redder cheeks. Before allowing her heart rate to slow down, he lifts her head up with both hands and kisses her, this time definitely longer than just a few seconds. Since it's no longer their first time, the kissing sessions have turned more and more playful. GyeoUl slowly matches up to JeongWon's kissing pace as well. Turns out, kissing can be so fun and…addicting too.

After a while, their kissing session is once again interrupted by a stomach's rumbling sound, this time from JeongWon's.

"You haven't eaten yet, Gyuso-nim?"

"Not yet. I bought the food here earlier to wait to eat with you because I saw that you only had one plate for dinner. The food has cooled down though. We can heat up the food and eat at my place nearby. JunWan is at the hospital today so we don't have to worry about him knowing our secret." JeongWon said as he opens the car door to the passenger's side for GyeoUl, then walks over to his.

"Gyuso-nim, can we have ramen at your place as well?" – GyeoUl asks, knowing her stomach would not be satisfied with just one entrée dish.

JeongWon completely freezes at her question, awkwardly answers "Of..Of course we..you can", then takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. While understanding that she may not know its hidden meaning, this kind of question after an intense kiss session is definitely dangerous. As he thought, perhaps priesthood is indeed not for him after all.

-----------

Update P.S: If you didn’t know already, her blind date is YYS’s other character in Dr. Romantic :))))))))))

P.S.S: Yes I know what ‘eating ramen’ means hehehhhhhh ;)

#hospital playlist #winter garden #ahn jung won #jang gyeo wool #fanfic

23 notes · View notes

ddaenggtan · 5 years

Text

give and take | knj

when your beloved jeep breaks down, you have no choice but to take it to a mechanic for once instead of trying to fix it yourself. you fully expected to empty your wallet or get told to just buy a new car. you don’t expect to meet kim namjoon, nor do you expect him to be hot like burning, sweet as honey, and interested in you.

pairing | kim namjoon x reader

genre/warnings | mechanic!namjoon, fluff (seriously so fluffy), smut: hickeys, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), dirty talk, dom!namjoon, brat!reader if you squint, creampie, slight mentions of choking

word count | 10.5k

cross posted to ao3

a/n: ayyyyyy i’m finally finished with this monstrosity!! it was supposed to be a short smutty drabble and yet HERE WE ARE bc i’m a slut for namjoon, both emotionally and physically. pls pls pls let me know what y’all think!! i’m doing my best out here in the world, but i always love to hear what people think about my work!!

You groan, for possibly the millionth time that afternoon, as your jeep sputters to a halt once more. You’ve had JeepJeep since you first got your license, a gift from your parents since they were getting a new car anyway. Held together with duct tape, prayers, and more than one swift kick to the bumper, the thing has gotten you through your entire school career and then into the big wide world of adulthood.

Now, as you sit in the nearly-empty lot of a mechanic, not even properly parked because your jeep died not two seconds after you pulled in, you feel like crying. Fixing this will cost everything you have. There is no doubt in your mind that this is going to be expensive. Probably expensive enough to wipe out what little you still have in your bank account after grocery shopping yesterday, if you aren’t forced to dip into the meager savings you have put back.

With a resigned sigh, you pop off a quick text to your best friend, heave yourself out of the jeep, and head through the open garage door. There’s a couple of cars up on lifts, parts strewn around them haphazardly, and faint music thrumming from somewhere, but you don’t see any actual people around.

“Hello?” You call hesitantly into the large room. There’s no response, which irritates you a little. First your jeep dies - possibly for the last time, not that you want to think about that right now, keep hoping, you remind yourself - and then you spend four hours getting ten miles to the closest mechanic so you didn’t have to pay for a tow only for there to be no one fucking here.

“Fuck this,” You tell yourself, sidestepping what looks like a car battery, and make your way further into the building. Music is still vibrating through your bones, there has to be someone in this rusty old shop somewhere, and you are on a mission, dammit. JeepJeep requires immediate attention, especially if you want to get home at any kind of decent time tonight.

The shop, you discover as you follow the sound of deep bass, is a minefield. There’s a truly ridiculous number of parts and tools you couldn’t name even if you wanted, all of them just thrown about like a four-year-old’s discarded toy. You think you may see a chainsaw in the corner and for the first time, you wonder if wandering around a potentially-abandoned-but-possibly-still-inhabited auto shop alone is a good idea. Do it for JeepJeep, you tell yourself, steeling yourself as you pass the Maybe A Chainsaw. Light gleams off grimy windows just past it, and the music seems to be coming from there. You give the tools - and the possible murder weapon - a wide berth, making your way to the lone door that you see. It’s nearly impossible to see through the windows of what looks to be the office, but the door itself is open, a lone figure sitting at a desk inside.

You knock gently against the open door and plant a friendly smile on your face. “Hi, sorry to bother you, my car died and I was just wondering if you could take a look at it?” The words rush out before the person - a guy, you belatedly notice - can tell you to get lost. When he spins around in the chair, your breath catches in your throat and you think you may actually physically choke.

He’s honestly gorgeous. Like…the hottest person on the face of the planet, gorgeous. Warm eyes blown wide with surprise and framed by strong dark brows, a jawline that makes you wonder why he needs the chainsaw lying around, bleach-blonde hair hidden away under a dark blue cap that matches the jumpsuit hanging around his waist revealing the most beautiful sight of that chest in just the white tee with grease stains that shouldn’t be so attractive. It’s all beautiful, but what gets the heat pooling between your legs is the sight of the long fingers. They aren’t even doing anything erotic, just wrapped around a thick book and a pen, clearly having been in the middle of writing something when you interrupted.

“Sorry,” He says quickly, fingers reaching out to slide over a button somewhere. The music softens, no longer shaking your bones, but that only makes you more aware of how hard your heart is beating. “I thought I had the closed sign on the door, I must have forgotten. You said your car died?”

It takes you a second to find words, and you’re grateful when he doesn’t judge. “Yes,” You say, filling your voice with the confidence you usually save for unruly customers at work, “Yes, my jeep. It’s out front, I just kind of left it since it wouldn’t start back up again. I really just need someone to take a look at it and tell me what to tape together so it’ll run again.”

He laughs, soft and sweet, and you never want to hear another sound in your life, but he sets the pen and the book to the side and stands. “I can certainly try,” The guy says, waving for you to follow him out to the lot.

You do, though it becomes quickly apparent that the wide berth you gave the chainsaw should have been saved for this walking hurricane. He manages to run into or knock over nearly everything on the way out, barrelling through areas you’d avoided due to clutter and just sliding things out of the way for you. He’s got a pretty blush on his cheeks when you finally emerge into the waning sunlight, and it warms you more than you expected. You’ve never seen someone so clumsy be so damned endearing.

“So, what exactly has been going on with your jeep?” He asks. You give him a brief rundown of all the things that have been patched in the years you’ve had your darling vehicle and go into more detail about the chinkchinkchunk sound it made right before it died in the middle of the turn lane outside the store where you worked. He tells you to pop the hood and you do. You don’t even take offense to the choking noise he gives upon seeing what’s left of the engine block and the several rolls of tape holding everything together. He manages to cover it with a cough, but you know what your engine looks like, and have no illusions about the disaster it must be to a mechanic.

“Uh…no offense, but I’m honestly a little surprised that it ran at all,” His voice echoes as you exit the car and come to stand by him. He scratches at his jaw, leaving a small trail of grease behind that your fingers itch to wipe off. You startle a little as he makes eye contact, but you can’t help but return the soft, shy smile that he wears. “I can definitely try, we’ll get her up on a lift to take a better look at everything, but I can’t make any promises. Uh…hold on, let me-” He stops and pats at his clothes before he turns, jogging into the garage once more.

You sigh a little as you turn to look back at JeepJeep’s engine, patting the side lightly. There are so many memories in this jeep, you don’t want to go buy a new car, nevermind that you can’t even afford it. Just a quick look and you can see where you hot-glued two of the tubes back together when they split outside your school, where you had to tape a belt back into one piece on the side of a highway at 3 a.m. with an ex-boyfriend holding the flashlight, the time you got stuck outside a McDonald’s and had to use no less than a hundred straws and four rolls of tape to form a funnel so your coolant could fill enough to get the thing home without catching fire. And that's just the engine, there are so many more things that happened in this jeep, so many memories and milestones that you don’t want to end up in a junkyard somewhere.

A loud crash from inside the garage breaks you from your thoughts, and you start to get worried by the suspicious silence that follows it. You wait a few moments, but there’s just a deafening silence hanging in the air. It takes a second but eventually you decide you cannot in good conscience wait by your dead jeep while this random, insanely hot mechanic bleeds out under some Honda. It’s just as you step forward that said mechanic stumbles out of the garage, clipboard in one oil-smeared hand while his other massages a spot on his (incredibly strong looking, holy shit) thigh.

He lights up when he sees you still there, as if he thought you would leave while he was gone. Your heart skips a beat at the thought.

“Okay so! Just fill out some quick information for me here, as best you can,” He hands you the clipboard and a pen and you dutifully start writing down your name, number, and information about JeepJeep. “As I said, we can’t guarantee we can fix…all of this, but we’ll do our best. The diagnostic will help figure out everything that’s really important to get her up and running, so we’ll do that first thing, and then call you with an estimate for labor and parts.”

“That sounds perfect, thank you so much,” You reply, truly grateful. Every other mechanic you’ve been to in the last two years had taken one look and immediately written the thing off as a lost cause. It’s touching to know this guy was at least going to try. You hand the papers back with a smile, ignoring the slight flush that comes over you when you look up to see him already looking at you. He turns a pretty shade of pink and averts his eyes.

“So, all I need now is your car key, if you don’t mind.” He says. You hurry to comply, sliding it off your keyring just as a horn honks behind you. You turn to see Taehyung’s car idling just outside the lot, the man himself waving at you before settling in. He's entirely too accustomed to this routine, and you decide to buy him some noodles soon to pay him back.

The sound of your name coming from the mechanic’s lips has you turning around, pink-cheeked, and you give an embarrassed smile. “Yep, that’s me,” You joke. “I gotta go, but take care of her…?” You trail off, never having gotten the guy’s name.

“Namjoon,” He says quickly, almost dropping the clipboard in his haste to pull his jumpsuit up and show you the name stitched into it. “Kim Namjoon. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry. We’ll call you soon.” His smile is blinding, and you want to dive in headfirst to the dimples that appear but Taehyung’s horn beeps before you can.

“Thank you again, Namjoon, so much,” You say as you grab your bag from the passenger’s side of your jeep and hurry off to slide in beside Taehyung, who immediately starts whining about how his own shift at work had gone.

You can’t stop yourself from looking out the side mirror as Namjoon’s image gets smaller and smaller, and you find yourself looking forward to when you'll see him again.

As it turned out, that would be much sooner than you originally thought. The shop calls you the very next day, a very bubbly sounding guy who introduces himself as Hoseok telling you that it won’t be nearly as expensive as you first thought and that though it'll take a week or two, they have faith that they can get JeepJeep running again.

You could cry, you'e so relieved. How they’re going to do such a thing is a mystery to you, especially for such a cheap price, but you aren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Any other shop in town would’ve been sure to charge you out the ass for such a thing, and your bank account would never have been able to recover from such a hefty price tag. You would’ve paid it, of course, because JeepJeep is everything to you, but you would’ve been back to your diet of instant noodles for a while if you had.

You can’t help but wonder if this is normal for their garage, or if it's a special case. As much as you want to think that it's because Namjoon is interested in the same way you are, it’s more likely whoever runs the place took one look at your heap of wishes and hushed prayers and was intrigued at the challenge of fixing such a piece of junk. Or that they were just cheaper in an attempt to poach business from other shops, because if they do manage to fix JeepJeep then you’re never going to another mechanic again in your life. Especially if Namjoon keeps working there, because that man-

You force the thought out of your mind, focusing instead on the work ahead of you.

You last four days. Four whole days before you finally cave and go to see how your jeep is doing without your loving kick to the rear and possibly also catch a glimpse of Namjoon while there. Taehyung applauded you on your restraint, though it was somewhat sarcastic, but you honestly don’t care. You love that jeep and you have to know if it’s in pieces or if they’re actually fixing it. Taehyung had no idea what he was talking about when he asked dryly why you’re wearing the shorts that cling in all the right places and the top that highlights your chest in all the ways you love just to go check on a jeep.

You mentally rescind your earlier note to buy him noodles as you make your way to the garage.

What you’re expecting to find at the shop, you aren’t entirely sure. In the deepest part of your heart, you want to see JeepJeep looking shiny and new and running perfectly already, but you are fully aware of how unlikely that is. You’re already getting a miracle, you don’t need to tempt fate. Still, the idea has planted itself so firmly in your mind that walking up to the shop at three in the afternoon and seeing your precious baby up on a lift with the parts you’d lovingly taped or glued back together thrown to the side in a haphazard pile almost brings tears to your eyes.

Indeed, it likely would have, had you not immediately heard a beautifully rumbling voice barking orders.

You step forward again and contain your surprise at how different the garage looks when it’s full of people. At first glance, you don’t see him, but after getting close enough to stand right at the edge of the open garage door, you spot him. You expect the rush of blood to your face, but you don’t expect the way your knees go wobbly and the sudden flip of your stomach.

If you thought he looked good the first time you met, it was nothing compared to now. The jumpsuit is buttoned halfway up his chest, giving the slightest peek to the white shirt underneath. The long sleeves running down his arms are pushed up to his elbows, which only highlights the way the material hangs off his biceps and complements the tan of his forearms. He still has that blue cap on, but the shy smile is gone, as is the pretty redness on his cheeks. He looks much more serious now, barking orders out to a couple of his coworkers as he looks up from the heavy book in his hands to the undercarriage of your jeep. The lid of a highlighter is stuck in the corner of his mouth, and his brows are drawn together in complete focus.

As you watch, doing your very best to not think about how absolutely hot like burning this guy is, he calls another guy over. The new guy is pretty, too, as they all seem to be, but nothing can outshine the sight of Namjoon, serious and laser-focused as he gestures to parts of your jeep and then to the heap of parts they’d removed, circling a couple of things with the highlighter. He speaks quietly to the other guy, who nods and also looks up at your jeep before disappearing down a set of stairs you hadn’t noticed before.

You’re not to be mistaken; you’re a strong, independent young woman, and you have no need to have a man around to tell you how to live or what decisions to make. But seeing Namjoon, looking like that, barking orders at people…well, you’ve always had a thing for authoritative men, and now you can’t help but wonder just how it would feel to be on the receiving end of Namjoon’s no-nonsense attitude. Him telling you to drop to your knees in such a firm voice, leaving no question that he was to be obeyed, and running one of those long fingers along the column of your throat before wrapping his whole hand around it and giving just enough pressure to make your head spin before he slides his-

“Can I help you?” A voice calls, and you just barely catch yourself before actually jumping in shock. Turning to find a third guy - also gorgeous, what is it with this place? - you plaster a smile on your face.

“Yes, hi!” You say quickly, hoping the redness on your face can be attributed to the afternoon sun and not the very lewd thoughts you were just lost in. “This is my jeep, I was just coming by to see how things are going.” It occurs to you halfway through the sentence that it might not be considered normal to check in on a vehicle and perhaps you should have readied a better reason.

The guy - Jungkook, by the name stitched into his plain grey tee - just nods, though, and gives you a quick once-over before turning. “Hey, hyung!” Nearly everyone in the garage turns except for a couple of people, but Jungkook makes instant eye contact with Namjoon. You only barely register the vague wave that Jungkook gives you, and you can’t hear whatever he says next past the rush of blood in your ears, because holy shit. The focused gaze was powerful enough to make your knees weak before, but having it leveled straight on you is another thing entirely. Your stomach is in knots and you honestly think you may just collapse right there and then, just from the sheer power that Namjoon radiates. You’re so focused on him that it’s impossible to miss the way his eyes rake up your form, lingering on every curve and leaving a heat behind that you hadn’t felt in much too long.

You give a shy wave and can see the moment he snaps out of whatever he’s thinking. He takes a breath and tries to speak at the same time, which mostly just results in him nearly swallowing the highlighter cap. You stifle a laugh as he spits it out and caps the marker, stuffing it in his pocket as he makes his way over. There’s a clear path to the lot that you have a sneaking suspicion is there entirely because of his penchant for disaster, and you meet him at the entrance. He’s got a wide smile on his face, yet again showcasing his dimples, and you find yourself returning the smile before you can stop yourself.

“I just came to check on JeepJeep,” You say before you can actually tell him how you think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. “I’m a little attached, and I wanted to be sure you all didn’t need any other information or anything like that.”

“Ah, well, we’re actually doing alright with her. We stripped out everything that needed to be replaced,” He points to the pile of parts you’re intimately familiar with, “And now it’s just a matter of putting in the new ones and making sure there isn’t anything else going on. We’re gonna go ahead and do an oil change, fill your coolant, and clean all the parts that didn’t need to be stripped, so she should be almost good as new when we get her back together.” Your heart swells at the news, and you beam at him.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Namjoon,” You tell him. He turns slightly pink and rubs the back of his neck, ducking his head. “Seriously, I never expected you to do so much for me. Anyone else would have just written her off and told me to go buy a new one. Are you sure you’re charging enough? It seems like a lot more work than I’m actually paying for.”

Namjoon just waves a hand, looking up at the jeep. “No, it’s the least I can do. Your Jeep really isn’t in terrible condition, just a lot of wear and tear, and it’s so obvious that you love it. What kind of mechanic am I if I turn down something like this?” He goes quiet, and you can feel him looking at you even as you watch several men hand parts back and forth.

You’re both quiet for a long while. You aren’t sure what’s going through his head, but you’re hoping that eventually, he’ll say something else to keep the conversation going.

“Well, I’ve got to get going soon, I’ve got a meeting in about an hour,” You say eventually, resigned to the fact that Namjoon isn’t as interested as you thought he might be.

“Oh, yeah, of course, don’t let me keep you,” He says quickly. Your heart sinks as you give him a smile and wave. You’re halfway to the sidewalk when he calls your name, and you turn to see him jogging after you. He’s got a white-knuckle grip on the book in his hands but his voice is steady.

“If you really want to pay me back, let me take you out to dinner,” he says. “Friday night at seven.”

The confidence in his tone surprises you, but not in a bad way. Your first instinct is to immediately agree, but the memory of that blush from four days ago has you biting your lip. You want to see it again, and you wonder how far you have to push him to bring it out.

“I dunno,” You say teasingly. “Just a dinner? That doesn’t really feel like I’m paying you back much, honestly. Shouldn’t there be more of a…I don’t know, a give and take?”

Something sparks in the mechanic’s eyes. Namjoon steps closer to you and traces the curve of your wrist with one finger. Your skin burns where he touches it, and your breath catches in your throat. “Friday at seven,” He says. His voice is low and lingering and you can feel it deep through your skin and sink into your bones. “Have dinner with me, and then we’ll see just how much give you can take.”

You clench your teeth again the urge to whimper as he slides your arm forward and uses a marker to write something on your arm. He backs up after he’s finished, a cocky smirk coming over his features that makes you want to bring him to his knees and drop to your own in equal measure. He presses a light kiss to your knuckles before he drops your hand entirely.

“Text me your address, I’ll pick you up,” He tells you as he disappears into the garage once more, barking for someone named Jimin to get off his ass and keep cleaning parts. You stand there for another few moments until you’re sure you can walk without tripping over your own feet. When you finally are able to breathe once more, you book it out of the lot and down the street. It takes ten minutes to realize you walked in the complete opposite direction from where you’re supposed to be meeting your friends for a late lunch.

Friday night comes with nervousness that you haven’t felt in a long time. With every one of the last few dates you’ve been on, you’d been the one to pursue things. You asked out the last three dates you’d been on, and the last time you’d gotten laid - months ago, unfortunately, which could explain the very visceral reaction you had to Namjoon - had been because you’d approached the most attractive guy you’d seen at the bar and blatantly asked him if he wanted to go home with you that night. It’s been a while since anyone bothered to chase you, and the fluttering in your chest just reminds you of how much you really do love it.

You’re wearing your favorite date outfit, a cute ruffled top with an A-line skirt that grazed the tops of your knees, and a pair of truly adorable flats that you got for 75% off the last time you went shopping. You’ve put more effort into your hair and face than you had in a while, making sure everything is the best it could possibly be for your date.

A knock on your door at exactly 7 o'clock has you grinning and rushing to grab your clutch. After you make sure you have everything you needed - phone, keys, wallet, condoms, as usual - you open the door. The sight that greets you has you almost wishing you’d offered to cook just so you could keep him locked inside.

You’ve only ever seen Namjoon in his work clothes, and whatever you expected his style to be, it wasn’t this. A gorgeous seafoam button-up tucked into white pants and his hair styled so well you aren’t sure why he wears a hat ever. None of it compares to the beaming grin he’s giving you, though, dimples on full display as he looks you up and down.

“You look amazing,” He says as he takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Really, I’m…I can’t believe I get to take you to dinner.”

“Well, you’d best believe it,” You tease. “I don’t get this dolled up for just anyone.” You turn to lock the door behind you, glad for the millionth time that you were lucky enough to find a good townhouse that wasn’t wildly out of your price range. He laces his fingers with yours and guides you to the street where he’s parked.

“There’s a pretty nice place close to the shop that isn’t too fancy or anything, if that works?” He tells you. His brow furrows and he bites at his lip just slightly, and you melt a little. “I wasn’t really sure what you liked, and it’s got a bit of everything, and it isn’t that super stuffy atmosphere, so I thought it would still be casual enough for us to be relaxed and talk, but if you’d like, we can go somewhere else, it really isn’t a big deal so-”

“Namjoon,” You stop him and squeeze his hand a little. “That sounds lovely.” He smiles at the same time you do, relief clear on his face as he relaxes slightly beside you. When you reach his car - a nice, obviously well-kept model you don’t recognize - he opens the door for you to slide in. Within minutes, you’re shooting off into the fading sunlight. There’s soft music playing - some old-school American hip hop you’ve never heard - and Namjoon is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. He looks effortlessly attractive, one hand on the gearshift and the other on the wheel, and it makes heat pool between your thighs. You rub them together just barely, trying your best to soothe the ache; the night has just begun, and at this rate, you’ll be a sopping mess before you even order your food.

Namjoon’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and as you turn to look at him, you realize he’s not actually speaking to you, but instead quietly rapping along with a new song that’s playing. Your brows shoot up and you grin.

“I didn’t know you could rap,” You say, delighted. Namjoon turns slightly pink and his grip on the wheel tightens a little.

“Ah, yeah, it’s just…a hobby, I guess.” He says. There’s a shyness, a humility, that makes an emotion swell in you that you can’t name. It almost seems like he doesn’t think he’s very good, and you decide then that you’re going to show him he is.

“You’re good,” You tell him, and he shoots you a disbelieving look. “No, really, you are. Do more, c'mon, I wanna hear you.” You reach for the stereo and turn the volume up so that it throbs through your chest, and then turn to him expectantly. He looks away as best he can while driving, scratching at the back of his neck as he starts to quietly rap along. It takes a minute, but he gets louder, more confident, and the excitement in your belly only grows.

“That is so sexy,” You say under your breath. You don’t expect him to respond, but the flush on his cheeks tells you he definitely heard you. He glances at you, curious and searching, and before you can ask why, his hand is settling hesitantly on your thigh.

It’s an innocent gesture, he doesn’t tease you or anything you could expect; he just leaves it there. The heat from his palm is scorching through the material of your skirt, and you catch yourself daydreaming several times about what exactly that hand could be doing to you. The rest of the drive is spent with the two of you talking about what music you listen to and your favorite artists, yet you find it impossible to completely focus on what you tell him. The weight of his hand on your thigh is too distracting.

Get it together, he isn’t even touching your skin, you tell yourself as he finally parks and rushes around to open your door for you. You beam at him in thanks and take his hand when he offers it. Together, you walk into a cute restaurant, already filled with people. You’re worried you won’t be able to get a table, and you start to voice your concern, but Namjoon just holds a single finger up and flags down the host.

“Reservation for two, Kim Namjoon,” He says easily, as if he dined at restaurants that required reservations every night. The host is quick to lead the two of you to a table in the far corner by a window, giving you an excellent view of the street. You can’t help but rake your eyes over Namjoom as he pulls your chair out for you and then takes his own seat. The light is soft and complimenting, making him almost seem to glow with obvious happiness as he perused the menu.

You do the same and find that several dishes look appetizing. You’ve just said as much to Namjoon, who agrees, when you notice the print at the bottom of the menu stating that this is apparently a Michelin-rated restaurant, and with a quick review, you’re shocked to find that there aren’t even prices listed on the menu. Your eyes shoot up to Namjoon, but he’s completely focused on his own menu, lost in the decision as he debates aloud what to get.

“Namjoon,” You say after a second. He looks up, eyes shining in the light, and smiles at you. “Not to be ungrateful, but you know you could’ve taken me somewhere else?”

He frowns, looking around. “If you don’t like it, we can leave,” He says quickly, and is clearly about to stand when you stop him with a hand on his wrist.

“No, it’s not that, this place is lovely, and the food looks delicious, I just…” You trail off, unsure how to verbalize the emotions swirling in your chest. “This is just a lot more than what a lot of guys would do for a first date.”

“Then I pity their dates,” He says without hesitation. He twists his wrist to catch your fingers in his and run his thumb along the back of your hand. “I want to treat you the way you deserve. If you want to leave and go somewhere else, we can. But I asked you out because I want to treat you, and this is how you deserve to be treated.” His expression is soft and earnest and the complete honesty in his words has you floored.

“Okay,” You say softly. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” He says firmly. He keeps his hand on yours as the server comes, and Namjoon proceeds to order each dish you’d mentioned an interest in, silencing your protests with a single hard look that has your legs shaking. The waiter disappears, and you force yourself to relax. Even if whatever this is doesn’t go anywhere, you’re getting excellent conversation and Michelin-rated food. Like you would turn that down.

As the food appears, the two of you settle into a rhythm of conversation. You learn that he’s only at the garage part-time, the rest of his days spent pursuing one Master’s degree in Business and a second in Engineering and that while he originally interviewed at several other auto shops, none would hire him because they were so worried about his knack for destroying things around him. You tell him about how you got your jeep, how it got you through a Bachelor’s degree that you haven’t been able to put to use yet and a job that sucks most days but pays the bills well enough that you can still afford your Netflix account. Namjoon is ridiculously easy to talk to, so much so that by the time you’re digging into a fruit custard pastry dessert, it feels like you’ve known him your entire life. By the time you get back to your apartment and he’s walking you to your door, you can hardly believe you’ve only known him a week.

“So tell me,” You finally say as you stand in front of your door, key in hand. “How does a mechanic that’s studying for two Master’s degrees afford a restaurant like that? And you have to tell me, no backing out. I told you about the Great Flubber Incident of 2014, you owe me. Just don’t tell me you’re secretly a mafia lord or something.”

He laughs, and you memorize the sound. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just lucky, honestly. My parents were fairly well off and set up a trust when I was born so they put back a bunch of money for me my entire childhood, but then when I went to school, they were supportive and weirdly excited, so they’re covering all those expenses as well. The garage pays really well, and I split costs with my roommate at home, so that trust has mostly just been gathering dust. I like to bring it out every so often, just to treat myself and my friends.” He smiles, lacing his fingers with yours once more. “And really beautiful girls with remarkably awful jeeps that are somehow interested in going out with me.”

You can feel your cheeks turning pink even as you grin and step closer to him. “Well, I have to say, the whole ‘humble and clumsy yet gorgeous mechanic with a heart of gold’ thing is really working for me.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm.” You tug gently at his hands and he lets you pull him closer until you can slide your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. His arms automatically wrap around your waist, hands lingering innocently on your lower back. “I have to admit, though, you gave me a really good first date. I just expected there to be more of a take.” You chance a look up at him and delight in the way his pupils are dilated and slightly hazy.

“I’ll have to make a note of that for next time,” He says. You cock an eyebrow and you don’t miss the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“You seem confident that there’ll be a next time,” You tease. His hands slide to grip your hips, tight and unyielding, and your breath catches in your throat.

“There will be,” He says. His nose is brushing yours, and you aren’t even sure when he got so close, but you know you want him to get even closer. The heat between your thighs is enough to make your legs weak, and it only worsens as he reaches up and glides his hand along your cheek and neck. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“Will you please just kiss me, Joon, before my neighbors can come out and comp-” He does, then, cutting you off in the middle of your sentence and you can’t even remember what you were going to say because his lips are so soft and they’re moving against yours so perfectly that you can feel your actual soul expanding and filling every inch of your being. His hand slides to cup your cheek, tilting you so he can deepen the kiss and slide his tongue along yours, and his grip on your hip tightens so hard that you know you’re going to have bruises the next morning and you relish in the thought.

Your own hands are busy exploring; they slide up to grip Namjoon’s biceps - firm and strong and you want to bite it - before moving to feel along his chest, finally getting to touch the muscles that you know are there. You whimper slightly as your fingers dip along the edges of his pecs, and your legs are threatening to give out completely.

Namjoon kisses you like he won’t get to do so ever again; it’s sweet and exciting and hesitant and dominating all at once, much like Namjoon himself, and your skin feels like it’s going to melt off your bones if he doesn’t run his hands over it, and you don’t ever want this moment to stop because your heart is beating out of your chest and your stomach is doing somersaults but your head is spinning and you also need to unlock your door if you want to get him in your bed, but you can’t feel your keys in your hand anymore and you don’t even know when you dropped them.

Eventually, he pulls away, eyes still closed as he leans his forehead against yours and just breathes. His chest is heaving in time with yours and you can feel his hands trembling slightly where they rest against your cheek, and you want to kiss him until they’re steady again but you also have a sneaking suspicion that it would be counter-productive.

“I really should get going,” He whispers, and he winces like he can feel your heart drop to your feet. “I know, but I have to open the shop in the morning, and I wanna get there early to finish a project.” The grimace on his face is more than enough to tell you that he wants to leave just as much as you want him to - which is to say, not at all, you’re almost to the point where you’d like him to come in and then never leave again. Nevertheless, you know the pain of opening shifts and deadlines, so you force yourself to nod.

“I get it,” You tell him, though neither of you has made any move to let go of the other. “I’ve got work tomorrow anyway,” true, though not until the afternoon, “And my apartment could use a clean,” false, you cleaned it that day so it was perfect if he happened to come in, “And…and your job is important.”

He sighs, grip tightening once more before he takes a single step back. He bends down to grab your dropped keys and slides them into your still-somewhat shaky hand.

“Text me?” He says, and his voice is hushed and tentative. You wonder if he expects you to say no.

“Like you can ever stop me now,” You reply with a grin, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He grins and this time you don’t hesitate to poke at the dimples that appear.

“I’ll see ya,” He says with a grin as he presses one last kiss to your hand before turning and heading back to his car. There’s a lightness in his steps, and even from here you can see his grin.

“See ya,” You call into the night before heading into your apartment.

That one date quickly turns into two which turns into three which turns into so many you can’t count. It seems like every time you both have time off that overlaps, you’re out. Movies, dinner, an afternoon at a museum exhibit, even a picnic by the river. It’s wonderful and your heart flutters with joy every time you think about it, and even Taehyung had commented about how happy you seemed recently. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the worst thing that happened was that they had to wait for a part to come in to finish fixing JeepJeep, and that couldn’t be helped. Namjoon was even paying out of pocket to get it expedited, despite your protests that he didn’t have to and that you’d be happy to pay for it yourself.

Still, as adamant that Namjoon was that he treat you at every turn, you had your own plans. You’d paid for several meals before he had the chance, bought him more than one gift that made his eyes crinkle in delight, and frequently brought him dinner on nights where he worked late.

This was one such night. Bag of takeout in hand as you walk the short distance from the bus stop to the garage, you can see the light inside even from here. The music can be heard even as you step into the lot, a thudding bass that drowns out all other noise around it - not that there’s anything nearby open at this time of night. You can just barely see Namjoon’s legs sticking out from under the back of some Kia, and you hear him muttering along to the song playing. He’s the last one here, as you’ve discovered is the usual schedule in the garage; it gave him a multitude of time to work and study, and he seemed to prefer it when no one was around. The garage was warm inside, a combination of heating and the industrial lights that kept everything blazing, but tonight you were grateful for it; the cool breeze of the afternoon was just starting to turn that bit too chilly, and the sundress you’d put on earlier was just shy of being warm.

“Hey,” You call, “I brought you some dinner. You wanna eat in the office?” He rolls out from under the Kia, and as usual, you’re floored by just how sexy he looks in his work uniform. Jumpsuit rolled down to his hips to combat the heat in the garage, white tee sticking to his chest and highlighting the muscles that make you drool, the cap on and turned backwards so the oil and gunk doesn’t get in his hair. He gives you a dimpled smile as he stands and wipes his hands on a nearby rag.

“Nah, we can eat out here, give me a second to wash my hands.” He disappears into an employees-only area, and you can hear the faint sound of water running as you pull over a couple of stools and get the food set up on one of the workbenches. Namjoon reappears, drying his hands on a clean rag that he tucks into the waistband of his uniform. “I actually have a surprise for you,” He says as he sits.

“Oh really?” Your mouth is stuffed full of chicken, and he laughs at the sight. You make a face at him before swallowing. “What surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you ahead of time, would it?” He makes a face in return and digs into his own food. You huff a little; you’ve never been very good at being patient, especially when you know you’re getting a present. You were notorious for sneaking into Christmas presents early, to the point where your parents started keeping them at your grandparents’ house to keep you from breaking into them.

The two of you eat in relative silence, only broken by the occasional anecdote of your day. When the food is finished, you both clean up the trash and Namjoon stretches as he leans back against the workbench. The position highlights his body and you can’t help yourself wondering what it looks like without the layers. As many dates as you’ve been on, there’s always been some reason or another why neither of you could spend the night; one of you worked too late, the other worked too early the next day, his roommate was home, you were dogsitting for Taehyung. It was frustrating and infuriating and you’d been about five seconds from ripping his clothes off the last time you’d seen him.

“So,” You drawl, giving him an expectant look. “What’s my surprise?”

“I really thought you’d last longer than that. Is the pleasure of my company not enough for you?”

“Joon, please, I’m dying, I waited for you to finish eating and everything because I’m such a good girlfriend.” You pout at him, but you don’t miss the stifled grin when you call yourself his girlfriend. He heaves a dramatic sigh and pushes off the workbench to take your hand.

“Alright, close your eyes,” He says. You obey immediately, following carefully as he leads you through the garage. You hear the bay door closing as you pass, and you assume the automatic timer kicked in to close them all for the night. You’re distracted from your thought as a soft clunk echoes in the garage and Namjoon lets out a soft curse. Still, he’s careful to keep you from any hazards as he guides you, eventually stopping you at what you figure is the other end of the garage.

“Okay,” He says, apprehension ringing through his voice. “You can open them.” You do, and you nearly sob at what you see.

JeepJeep, in all its glory, polished and waxed and shined, and looking nearly new again. You step forward and run your hand along the hood slowly. You whip around to face him with hope in your eyes.

“Go ahead, start her up.” You rush into the driver’s seat and find the key on the dash, ready and waiting. You slide them into the ignition but find yourself hesitating before you start it. You’re so hopeful, so ready for her to work the way she did when you first got her, that you aren’t sure what you’ll do if she doesn’t. Apprehension settles in your chest, clawing its way up your throat. You glance to Namjoon again and at his encouraging grin, you turn the key.

Your jeep absolutely roars to life, immediately, and she sounds beautiful. Better than the day your parents handed over her key, better than you’ve ever heard her, and you could weep, you’re so happy.

Instead, you turn her off, exit the vehicle, and stride the few steps to the hood where Namjoon is standing to pull him into a heated kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair immediately, pulling him in as close as you can. Words aren’t enough for this, can’t express the sheer and immense gratitude that you feel, the absolute elation at having your jeep back. He returns the kiss, surprised but content as his hands settle on the curve of your hips.

You deepen the kiss, surging upwards and pressing your body flush against Namjoon’s until you’re almost stumbling forward. He steadies you and, without breaking the kiss, walks you back until you’re resting against the hood of your jeep. You can feel the beginnings of his arousal against your hip, and you want more. You want to show him how grateful you are. You part from his lips to ghost your lips down his neck until you get to his throat, at which point you bite. It’s gentler than you usually would be, but it still makes him hiss, and you lap at the mark left to lessen the pain.

When Namjoon’s hands start sliding down, dangerously close to your ass, you bite again, this time suckling at the skin. You don’t stop until he hisses your name and tangles a hand in your hair, loose and wild, and when you finally do pull back, you give him the most innocent smile.

“We’re in the middle of the shop, are you seriously trying to-”

“Do you want me to stop?” You interrupt, cocking a brow at him. His eyes are blown wide and there’s a quickly-forming hickey on his neck that you take great pride in, and he looks like he’s struggling with himself.

“This isn’t how I pictured this,” He finally admits, and you smile.

“It’s not how I pictured it, either,” You agree. He looks slightly relieved that you had other plans as well, but at this point, you’re too far gone to care about those plans. Your nice, comfortable bed is ideal, yes, but it is also so far away, and you really can’t wait that long.

You maintain the eye contact with him as you slide down to your knees, hands massaging up and down his thighs. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask again, softer, as your hands hesitate just shy of the hardness you can feel through his uniform. Your breath ghosts along it, you’re that close to it, but you refrain from touching it at all until he gives you a sharp look.

“Fuck, no, I don’t,” He finally says, and you grin. You can hardly believe you’re about to do this, honestly, even as Namjoon unbuttons the next few clasps to his jumpsuit to reveal all he’s wearing under it is his boxers. You don’t wait for him to take them off, instead sliding the band down just enough for his dick to spring free.

You’re not ashamed at how your mouth waters at the sight.

You’ve never thought of dicks as being anything attractive, in and of themselves. For everyone else you’d been with, they were merely a tool to be used, attached to an attractive man and attractive in their skill, but not in their looks.

God, you were so wrong.

Namjoon’s dick is glorious. Seriously beautiful. It’s long and thick and curves just barely, and you clench instinctively at the thought of it inside you. You’d be worried at how you’re going to fit it if you couldn’t already feel the wetness dripping down your thigh. You were so turned on it could probably slide right in, and you clench again at the thought before reminding yourself that you were on a mission.

The first brush of your hand against his dick has Namjoon huffing, impatient and ready to feel your mouth on him. It’s the first you’ve seen of his authoritative side all night, and you decide that you want more of it. You glide your fingers along the length of him, ghosting over the tip just enough for him to know you were there at all before repeating the motion, again and again. He thrusts forward just a small bit each time, chasing the feeling of your hand, and you can’t stop the smirk on your face as you look up to find him glaring down at you.

“I thought you were going to do something down there,” He growls. You do your best not to shiver at the sound of it.

“I am doing something,” You reply cheekily as you slide your thumb along his slit. He hisses again and shudders. “Isn’t there supposed to be a give and take?”

“If you don’t put that mouth of yours to work, you’re going to see exactly what take means,” He tells you, and you grow hotter at the thought. It must show on your face because he raises a brow at you. “Oh, is that what you want, baby? You want me to take it?” You moan a little at the thought, and though you’re never going to admit it, he knows, just by that small tell.

“Then I’ll take it.” He tightens the grip he has in your hair. “Open your mouth for me, baby.” You comply, and he slides in completely. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat and your nose is buried in the small patch of dark hair at the base of his dick and you don’t even care. Your eyes roll back a little as he slides himself back out before thrusting in once more, and you moan around his cock.

The sound makes him shiver, and he repeats the action, tip hitting your throat once more, and you moan again. He hisses your name and it sounds like music to your ears. You slack your jaw, allowing him more room, and run your tongue along the underside as he slides in and out, groaning softly at the feeling.

“Fuck, you like this baby?” He asks you, falling forward slightly to brace himself against the hood of your jeep. “You like it when I use your mouth like this? Like it when you’re just a little cockslut for me?” You whimper and do your best to nod, though it’s difficult when he’s shoved his dick so far back in your throat that you’re swallowing around it. The taste of his pre-cum hits your tongue as he slides back out, and you’ve honestly never tasted anything so good in your life.

“You’re so good for me like this, baby,” He says. “You’re so pretty like this, on your knees for me. So fucking gorgeous, god, I could cum just like this.” You whine at that; if he’s going to cum inside of you, you sure as hell don’t want it to be down your throat.

He stops the next time he slides out, a soft pop echoing through the room as he does. There’s a trail of spit connecting your lips and the tip of his cock and it’s so erotic you could cum just from that. He’s dripping pre-cum and you give small kitten licks to lap it up before it can fall to the ground. His free hand cradles your chin and he pulls your face up to look him in the eye.

“Get up,” He commands. You obey, scrambling to your feet and glad to get off the cool concrete floor of the garage. He pushes you back until you hit the hood of the jeep, hands running along your legs and up the skirt of your dress. He grips the backs of your thighs and lifts, with more strength than you realized he had, until you’re sitting on the hood, legs splayed around him. He darts forward and sucks a mark into the skin of your collarbone, and you whimper at the feeling of his lips on you.

His hands slide up your thighs, teasing and light, and they drag the skirt of your dress up with them. By the time you can feel the air against your clothed core, he’s pulled back, and when you open your eyes, you find him staring straight at it.

“Shit, babe,” He hisses, “Lace? Fuck, I almost don’t wanna take them off.”

“Then don’t,” You reply without hesitation. He looks up at you, and a crooked smile slowly comes over his face.

“God, you really are fucking perfect, aren’t you?” He mutters. He leans in again and kisses you hard. It’s unforgiving and sloppy and hot and when added to the heat of his hands against your inner thighs as he slowly strokes your skin, it has you grinding against the air for some form of release.

“Please, Joon,” You gasp, hands grasping desperately at his shirt. “Please, please, I need you.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg,” He whispers, laughter clear in his voice as one finger moves to slide against your slit. Even through the fabric, the friction makes you buck, and you can’t stop the moan as he flicks at your clit. “You’re so wet, baby. Absolutely soaked. Tell me, are you always like this when you’re around me?”

You whimper as he moves his fingers to the side to slide his fingers along your slit once more, collecting your wetness as he does. One starts to slowly rub circles just above your clit, close enough that it has you moaning, but so far away from where you need them to be. Your body is shuddering, and you’re dimly aware of your hips rolling to match his circles.

“I asked you a question.” His voice is harsh in your ear as his palm slaps against your thigh. The pain lingers, just enough to make you clench around nothing, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” You gasp. “Yes, I’m always this wet around you.” He smiles and slides a finger inside of you. It’s easy, and you contract around him,

“Good girl,” He tells you, thrusting his finger in and out. You whimper again, and he presses a kiss against your neck. Your hips are moving of their own accord, rutting desperately into his hand. “Now tell me, have you imagined this? Did you think about me fucking you in this garage, making you cum with just my fingers?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, yes, I’ve thought about it.” You moan as he slides another finger inside and begins you fucking with them, curling them just enough that they brush against the one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. “Fuck, Joon, please, I need you.” You’re fucking yourself against his hand, hips grinding hard against his hand. The meat of his palm presses deliciously against your clit, and you feel like sobbing, you’re so close.

His fingers slide out of you, leaving you contracting around nothing, and the emptiness echoes throughout your chest. “Ssh, baby,” Namjoon says softly. You feel a finger against your lips and instinctually open your mouth. He slides his fingers inside and you suck, licking your own slick off of them. You look at him as you do it, and relish in the fact that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, I need to be in you. Do you have a condom?”

“No, it’s fine,” You say quickly. “I’ve got an IUD, we’re both clean, please just fuck me, Joon, I need it.” His grip on your thigh tightens at your words, and he nods.

“Yeah, okay,” He mutters. He pushes lightly against your shoulder and you let him. He lays you back on the hood, gripping your thighs and pulling your hips down to line himself up with your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.”

“I know, it’s all you, Joon,” You tell him, back arching as you feel the tip of his dick against your entrance. “It’s all because of you, you get me like this, just wanna fuck you all day.”

With a groan, he slams into you, and you gasp. Your back arches up off the hood at the same time your legs wrap around his hips to keep him inside you. The moan tears itself from your throat, echoing through the building, and you’re glad for the music still booming through the garage. Namjoon moves, one hand bracing himself against the jeep as he lets himself adjust to the feeling of your raw heat against him and the other keeping your hips steady in an iron grip.

“Fuck, Namjoon, move, please,” You whine, hips already grinding against him in an effort to entice him into following your wishes. He nods and starts shallow thrusts. The stretch burns in a way that makes you want more, and you can feel every inch of him inside of you as he begins to fuck you harder.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He moans, and if that isn’t the best sound you’ve ever heard, you aren’t sure what is. “God, I fucking…fucking love the feel of your pussy around me, it’s so good, and you’re fucking beautiful like this, taking my cock so well, babe.” You whimper and roll your hips against his, hands scrambling for any kind of purchase against the hood of the jeep and finding none.

“Harder, Joon, fuck,” You pant, moving to grip your own thighs in a desperate attempt to release some of the energy building up in your gut. He complies, fucking you harder against the jeep. You think you can hear it moving, but you can’t be sure, because all of your focus is currently on the pressure against your pelvis, the way the rolling heat between your legs is expanding, and you can’t even be bothered to control the wanton moans coming out of your mouth. Namjoon is just as loud, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he pumps in and out of you. One of his hands moves and he shifts, angling so that he hits your sweet spot with every thrust while his other hands begins to rub hard circles on your clit in time with his fucking.

“Fuck, yes, come on, baby, cum on my dick, wanna see you cum for me, wanna feel you as I fill you up,” Namjoon hisses, slapping at your thigh once more. That does the trick, the rubber band in your belly snapping as you reach your high; your back comes off the hood completely and you shoot forward, hands gripping Namjoon’s shirt so hard you think it might rip, hips rocking against his as you ride out your high.

It only takes a few shallow thrusts while you’re spasming around him for Namjoon to fall over that edge as well, and you can feel the hot liquid settling inside of you. There’s more of it than you thought there would be, enough that even as he slides out, you can’t miss the way it drips out of you.

You’re both panting as Namjoon slides your panties back into place, a smirk on his face as he does. You look at each other, and you let yourself fall back onto your elbows.

“I’ll get the lights and the music if you get the door,” He says. You’re up in a flash, heading to the door controls by the bay your jeep is parked at as Namjoon hurtles through the garage to turn off the music and lights. It takes less than five minutes, and only a couple of minor incidents in which you hear something fall to the garage floor, and you’re speeding down the road to your apartment.

If you had to stop in the parking lot of your building and ride him in the backseat, then, well…no one needed to know but the two of you.