OH MY TIEN
i couldn't help it. this has been in my terrible brain since TUESDAY. BOO, NEURONS. HORS, ALL OF YOO. i really, really don't know how this happened, but yeah. don't like, don't read y'all! kinda porny. kinda. IDK LAH.
ETA: i'm never writing sexy scenes again, because i fail at it.
to munira: you pretend to be the girl, y/y?
| this one thing |
[american idol | r | anoop desai/megan joy | this is rpf. and also kinda adultish.]
if i owned anoop, munira would have him. i don't own megan, either. | 897 words
somehow, being a good indian boy mean getting together with a good indian girl.
Anoop Desai is a good Indian boy.
He isn't boasting, it's a fact. He's always obeyed his parents, forever polite to his elders (except for that one time he went berserk on stage, and it's not his fault that Simon manages to make his blood boil just because he breathes), respectful towards women, kind to his buddies... the list goes on.
Somehow, being a good Indian boy mean getting together with a good Indian girl. Or at least that's what everyone thinks.
"I don't know when I'm getting married," he laughs nervously, scratching his hair. "Gosh, Andrew, why are you even asking me this?"
Andrew Barker laughs from the other end of the line, and even though Anoop's in the stupid Idol mansion with idiots and crazy people, he knows when his friend is drunk dialing. "Had a feeling, man. Your parents are gonna matchmake you, I can feel it."
Anoop snorts, but there's a flutter in his chest. He thinks it's panic. "You're really trashed, man."
"Have you ever fucked a girl?"
He raises an eyebrow, even though he knows Andrew can't see him. "Andrew, you know when I lost my virginity-"
"No, no," his university friend sputters drunkly. There's some crashing in the background, Andrew must be piss drunk. Which makes Anoop jealous, because Andrew only sounds slightly tipsy. "Not make love, or whatever nonsense you call it, waiting and kissing and slow movements like fucking tantric sex."
"How do you even know about tantric sex?"
"It's awesome!" Andrew hoots. "Don't hit it unless you try it, bitch. Anyway, I'm taking about real fucking, like shoving and grinding and screaming and biting. Like fuckin' animals. Pounding into a girl until she can't even say your fucking name. Have you done that?"
Anoop thinks of blonde hair underneath, gasps of pleasure, a body writhing under his, small hands clutching his biceps, fingernails leaving marks on skin. Keening, mewling, and when his fingers are soaking wet, "Oh god, please, please let me... fuck please, I need-"
"Desai? You still there?"
"Bzuh?" Anoop blinks, and he hears Andrew's tiny laughter.
"Did you even hear me?"
Anoop scowls. "Yeah, the part about fucking girls until they can't think."
"Well, you got to go get laid like that sometime before you get married to that sweet Indian girl, because she isn't gonna let you do that."
"Really?" Anoop turns to his left, smiles at the figure under the sheets. He shifts as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake her up.
Andrew sounds like he's chugging beer like it's out of fashion. "She'll probably be a nun after that. I should take you to a brothel one of these days, I swear."
"Oh yeah?" Anoop grins, all teeth, as he pushes the covers down.
"Yeah, Anoop. I'm going to make sure you fuck a girl like you mean it before you spend the rest of your life in holy matrimony."
He pushes the blonde hair away from her face, tracing the bright patterns on her arm. She shifts, making a sound of utter contempt, and he chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind, Andrew. I gotta go now."
"Mom on the other line?"
Anoop smiles. "Something like that."
"I'm hunting you down after this Idol bullshit, Desai."
His fingers go down, down, down until it reaches where he wants it to be, and he strokes firmly. She breathes in sharply and begins to wiggle.
"I'm counting on it, Barker."
Andrew swears again and hangs up. Anoop snaps his phone shut, tossing it to the other bed, and moves above her, fingers not stopping.
Finally, finally, she opens her eyes. "Anoop," she moans, grabbing onto his wrist, trying to push it away from her over-sensitive skin. She fails and writhes, trying to get away. "Oh god, too much."
He leans down and bites her neck, and she arches so beautifully he's tempted to do it again until there's a huge hickey, but he knows he can't. He kisses her instead, pushing his tongue into her mouth and leaves her breathless when they part. "Again, Megan," he orders.
She shakes her head from side to side, a futile attempt to stop him. He knows she doesn't want him to stop. The hand on his wrist isn't pushing, it's pulling him closer.
"Such a good girl for me," he breathes as he slides in two fingers. She makes a soft noise, and he wants to hear it again. "Came for me five times last night, and you still want more."
"Please," she's begging now, eyes squeezed shut in perfect ecstasy. "Please, Anoop. I need..."
And since she asks so nicely, Anoop bends down, parts her with his spare hand, blows on the hot flesh to tease her one last time and sucks.
Megan's eyes fly open as she screams, and Anoop hopes that Danny wore earplugs to sleep because that man is one cranky person if he doesn't get enough rest, or if he's awakened by other parties having mind-blowing sex.
As she comes down from her high, he strokes her flank, making soothing noises. In five minutes, she's sound asleep again, cuddled up to him. He hugs her and kisses her forehead, hearing her even breaths. This is his way of thanking her and loving her, telling her that he'd still respect her in the morning.
Anoop is a good Indian boy.
ETA: i'm never writing sexy scenes again, because i fail at it.
to munira: you pretend to be the girl, y/y?
| this one thing |
[american idol | r | anoop desai/megan joy | this is rpf. and also kinda adultish.]
if i owned anoop, munira would have him. i don't own megan, either. | 897 words
somehow, being a good indian boy mean getting together with a good indian girl.
Anoop Desai is a good Indian boy.
He isn't boasting, it's a fact. He's always obeyed his parents, forever polite to his elders (except for that one time he went berserk on stage, and it's not his fault that Simon manages to make his blood boil just because he breathes), respectful towards women, kind to his buddies... the list goes on.
Somehow, being a good Indian boy mean getting together with a good Indian girl. Or at least that's what everyone thinks.
"I don't know when I'm getting married," he laughs nervously, scratching his hair. "Gosh, Andrew, why are you even asking me this?"
Andrew Barker laughs from the other end of the line, and even though Anoop's in the stupid Idol mansion with idiots and crazy people, he knows when his friend is drunk dialing. "Had a feeling, man. Your parents are gonna matchmake you, I can feel it."
Anoop snorts, but there's a flutter in his chest. He thinks it's panic. "You're really trashed, man."
"Have you ever fucked a girl?"
He raises an eyebrow, even though he knows Andrew can't see him. "Andrew, you know when I lost my virginity-"
"No, no," his university friend sputters drunkly. There's some crashing in the background, Andrew must be piss drunk. Which makes Anoop jealous, because Andrew only sounds slightly tipsy. "Not make love, or whatever nonsense you call it, waiting and kissing and slow movements like fucking tantric sex."
"How do you even know about tantric sex?"
"It's awesome!" Andrew hoots. "Don't hit it unless you try it, bitch. Anyway, I'm taking about real fucking, like shoving and grinding and screaming and biting. Like fuckin' animals. Pounding into a girl until she can't even say your fucking name. Have you done that?"
Anoop thinks of blonde hair underneath, gasps of pleasure, a body writhing under his, small hands clutching his biceps, fingernails leaving marks on skin. Keening, mewling, and when his fingers are soaking wet, "Oh god, please, please let me... fuck please, I need-"
"Desai? You still there?"
"Bzuh?" Anoop blinks, and he hears Andrew's tiny laughter.
"Did you even hear me?"
Anoop scowls. "Yeah, the part about fucking girls until they can't think."
"Well, you got to go get laid like that sometime before you get married to that sweet Indian girl, because she isn't gonna let you do that."
"Really?" Anoop turns to his left, smiles at the figure under the sheets. He shifts as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake her up.
Andrew sounds like he's chugging beer like it's out of fashion. "She'll probably be a nun after that. I should take you to a brothel one of these days, I swear."
"Oh yeah?" Anoop grins, all teeth, as he pushes the covers down.
"Yeah, Anoop. I'm going to make sure you fuck a girl like you mean it before you spend the rest of your life in holy matrimony."
He pushes the blonde hair away from her face, tracing the bright patterns on her arm. She shifts, making a sound of utter contempt, and he chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind, Andrew. I gotta go now."
"Mom on the other line?"
Anoop smiles. "Something like that."
"I'm hunting you down after this Idol bullshit, Desai."
His fingers go down, down, down until it reaches where he wants it to be, and he strokes firmly. She breathes in sharply and begins to wiggle.
"I'm counting on it, Barker."
Andrew swears again and hangs up. Anoop snaps his phone shut, tossing it to the other bed, and moves above her, fingers not stopping.
Finally, finally, she opens her eyes. "Anoop," she moans, grabbing onto his wrist, trying to push it away from her over-sensitive skin. She fails and writhes, trying to get away. "Oh god, too much."
He leans down and bites her neck, and she arches so beautifully he's tempted to do it again until there's a huge hickey, but he knows he can't. He kisses her instead, pushing his tongue into her mouth and leaves her breathless when they part. "Again, Megan," he orders.
She shakes her head from side to side, a futile attempt to stop him. He knows she doesn't want him to stop. The hand on his wrist isn't pushing, it's pulling him closer.
"Such a good girl for me," he breathes as he slides in two fingers. She makes a soft noise, and he wants to hear it again. "Came for me five times last night, and you still want more."
"Please," she's begging now, eyes squeezed shut in perfect ecstasy. "Please, Anoop. I need..."
And since she asks so nicely, Anoop bends down, parts her with his spare hand, blows on the hot flesh to tease her one last time and sucks.
Megan's eyes fly open as she screams, and Anoop hopes that Danny wore earplugs to sleep because that man is one cranky person if he doesn't get enough rest, or if he's awakened by other parties having mind-blowing sex.
As she comes down from her high, he strokes her flank, making soothing noises. In five minutes, she's sound asleep again, cuddled up to him. He hugs her and kisses her forehead, hearing her even breaths. This is his way of thanking her and loving her, telling her that he'd still respect her in the morning.
Anoop is a good Indian boy.