#<- let’s see if that’s a tag. it should be

[ghouljams]

Alone on Valentine's Day? Mad at your ex?

Rating: E Words: 17.5k Tags: Gaz x f!reader, insecure!reader, bad breakups, past cheating(but not by Gaz or reader), shitty exes, fluff, manipulation, subtle interrogation techniques, non-consensual filming, non-consensual photography, minor dollification kink, minor intox kink, touch starved!reader, oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex, piv sex, dick piercings, non-con (off screen) creampie, non-consensual photo sharing Summary: In a fit of pettiness and self loathing you respond to a personal ad online. You get a lot more than you bargained for out of it.

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

<- Alone on Valentine’s Day? Mad at your ex?

[casual encounters]

“Did your partner recently break up with you? Want to look like you’re doing better without them?

I’m a recently turned 30 former special services operative (currently in private security) and, at risk of sounding like a complete ass, a fairly good looking man.

What I can provide to you:

-A full day of “dates” that you can photograph and post on social media for your ex to see.

-The full boyfriend experience for videos and even an “accidental” live

-Outfit changes

-Princess treatment so you remember what an asshole they were

The only payment I want is to hear about the fallout afterwards, I live for the drama and my life has been boring lately.

Face card provided upon request.

Serious inquiries only”

-do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers-

*

It takes a few emails back and forth, an enlistment photo you didn’t believe, a requested picture of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen with a frying pan on his head, and an assurance that you weren’t going to get murder-napped, before you realize maybe you’re a little (incredibly) insane. By then you’re already walking into the cafe you’d agreed to meet Kyle at, so it’s a little too late to back out. Not that you don’t consider it when you lay eyes on him.

Pictures don’t do the man justice, and the pictures were really fucking good. His dark skin is rich and beautifully smooth where it shines in the cafe lights, his lips pout slightly as his eyes scan the menu, and by the set of his shoulders you can tell that under that camel colored peacoat he’s got a body that’d make you drool. He seems to spot you out of the corner of his eye because he turns to smile at you before you can turn tail and run, and God even his teeth are pretty.

Which only makes it too bad that the only reason you’re meeting him is because you’re a pathetic mess that can’t get over your ex. Maybe under better circumstances this could’ve been an actual date. 

He raises a hand in greeting and you try not to look like you’re rushing over to him, plastering on a smile and holding out your hand to properly introduce yourself. Kyle’s hand is warm and pleasantly worn when it slides against yours. His ad said he was in private security, do they work with their hands enough to have calluses? He says your name like he was made to, lets the syllables shape his lips in a way that feels purposeful.

“Buy you a cuppa?” He asks, nodding towards the board over the counter.

“Oh,” You glance towards the menu, “that’s really kind, but you don’t have to.” If you expected your response to dull his smile it doesn’t, in fact he seems to glow just a bit brighter, his eyes sparking with something you can’t name.

“Course I do, it’s our first date.” You feel a pop of heat on your cheeks and quickly push it down. Kyle bumps against your side. “Besides, I thought you wanted the princess treatment.”

The heat pops again and you laugh nervously to cover it. “Yeah, I did say that, didn't I?” Kyle nods with a pleased hum.

“Let me spoil you,” He presses, “Show you how your man should act.”

You can’t say it isn’t tempting, and you figure he wouldn’t offer if he couldn’t put his money where his mouth is.

“Alright.” You relent and he wraps an arm around your shoulders to squeeze you into a side hug. You don’t entirely hate it.

“That’s my girl.” You don’t entirely hate that either.

“So,” Kyle starts, dropping his arm back to his side, you almost miss it, “I brought a couple changes of clothes, I figure maybe four or five dates and we’ll be solid?”

“Sounds good to me,” You have about eight different outfits shoved in the back of your car. The idea had felt a little silly when Kyle first brought it up, but you were starting to see the thought behind it.

“And you brought something pretty like I asked?” Kyle taps his fingers against his thigh and for a second you feel a pang of anxiety shoot through you. “I made a reservation for dinner, figured we cap off the slide show with a proper Valentine’s day celebration.” Your anxiety dissipates as quickly as it had appeared and you let out a breath.

“Yeah, wasn’t quite sure what we would be doing so I grabbed a couple dresses.”

“Oh good,” Kyle grins at you, “my pick then.” You laugh off the joke just in time to make it to the front of the line.

You’re strangely nervous by the time you actually sit down with Kyle to drink your tea. You’d made smalltalk while waiting for your drink, but now it felt almost like a date. You had some prerequisite questions you’d asked him just to make sure you weren’t going to be meeting some creep, but you don’t really know Kyle. You’re going to be spending the day with him, but he’s still a stranger to you.

“So,” You start, trying to think of something to talk about. Kyle cuts your thoughts short.

“Let’s get a picture.” He tugs his phone from his coat pocket and you fumble to do the same, scooting your chair closer for a picture together. Kyle laughs. It sounds rich and genuine, the sort of laugh that always sounds good humored, that makes your cheeks warm just a little in embarrassment. He shakes his head as it leaves him. “Cups together, doll.” He tells you, “Try to keep my face out of the pictures, keeps an air of mystery you know?”

“A soft launch.” You nod, pressing your cup against his and pulling your phone close to your face to get a picture of your hands. Kyle has nice hands, a thick ring on his middle finger that catches the attention of the photo in a distinctly masculine fashion. “Oh!” You set your cup down and twist to rummage through your purse, tugging a lipgloss free and flipping the camera. 

You’re careful to apply it as precisely as you can manage with Kyle bumping against your side to peek in your camera. You laugh and shove at him when he wiggles his brows at you through his reflection.

You press your lips to the opening of your cup’s lid to leave a nice crisp stain and hold the cup out for Kyle to press his against as well. You turn your cup so the name is visible and snap another picture. Looks good, definitely couple-y. Let’s see Brad say that’s fake.

“Looks good.” Kyle echoes your thoughts, looking over your shoulder at your screen. You lock your phone and smile up at him, only to lean back. You hadn’t realized how close he was. You’d really scooted your chair right up next to him.

You try to scoot back to your original position and Kyle pulls your chair back with a hand under your seat. The motion is so unexpected and sudden that you let out a nervous laugh and try to move away again. Only to find your movement stopped by the hand that still grips your seat.

“Wait,” He insists, changing his ring for a watch from his pocket, “one more.” You hold your cup up and he shakes his head. “Got a mate that takes pictures of his girl, pass me your phone.” You hesitate. You’re not sure you’re comfortable giving a stranger your phone. Even if it’s only briefly.

“I’ll give it right back,” He promises with a sympathetic look.

Which only makes you feel worse, like you’re so clearly attached to your phone that you need pity. You’re not- You stuff down your discomfort and unlock your phone, to hand to Kyle. He twists in his chair to face you and holds the phone up. You smile on reflex and Kyle reaches out to pinch your cheeks between his fingers, squishing your face in a way that makes you wrinkle your nose to keep from making an even worse face. You see Kyle’s thumb tap to take a few pics before he releases you and hands you your phone back. 

They’re cute pictures, exactly the sort that you can imagine a doting boyfriend would take. You look like you’re being a good sport tolerating the treatment, but there’s a note of enjoyment that shows through in the sparkle of your eyes.

And despite the fact this picture and the one of your to-go cups were taken in the same place the backgrounds are different enough that you could believe that they were taken on separate dates. This might work.

“These are nice.” You give Kyle his applause, and he nods his head.

“Thank you, thank you, the boys gotta be good for something, yeah?”

“So your friend takes a lot of girlfriend pictures?” You ask, latching onto the single piece of information Kyle’s given you. He makes a sort of non-commital head nodding motion and sips his tea.

“Fiance, not sure she likes all the candid shots, but-” He shrugs.

“I’m sure she loves them, makes you feel wanted when your partner takes pictures of you.” You force a smile. Kyle snorts.

“Speaking from experience?” You feel your smile falter and Kyle’s eyes soften. “I’ll take plenty, don’t worry.” He squeezes your hand, “You could milk me for months.” You laugh and he groans, smacking his forehead to drag a hand down his face. “Fuck me, not like tha’.”

“I appreciate it,” You manage through your lingering giggles, “My ex-” You stop yourself, it’s bad manners to talk about exes on a first date. Kyle gives you a look like he’s waiting for you to finish. You suppose this isn’t a real date, even if you sort of wish it was. “I don’t have any pictures of us.” You say lamely. It feels pathetic to admit. Your ex always told you he didn’t like pictures, but he’s fine taking them with his new girl. Guess he just didn’t like taking pictures with you.

Another squeeze to your hand. You hadn’t realized he was still holding it. You’re not sure how you feel about that. Grateful maybe. You stare at your joined hands and try to categorize the feelings in your chest. Bitter and a little wistful. You’ve realized that you miss being a girlfriend more than you miss Brad, not that he was ever a great boyfriend, but it’s nice being loved.

If he ever loved you.

“That’s good,” Kyle ducks his head to catch your eye and you give him a smile just so you don’t look as pathetic as you feel, “means more camera space for us.” You huff a laugh and he knocks his fingers against your chin. You swat his hand away and Kyle’s hand cups your cheek, reassuringly brief before he grabs his tea.

“So what happened?”

The question catches you off guard, though you should have expected it. He did say in his ad that he liked drama, you must be a veritable buffet in his eyes. You toy with the lid of your cup while you think through how to answer, if you even want to. You have no reason to lie to Kyle, but you also have no reason to tell the truth. Lies will be harder to keep track of, so truth it is.

“We broke up before Christmas.” You tell him. “I’d love to say it was mutual, but I caught him cheating and when he started defending himself I just thought-” You shake your head, “-God he’s not even going to pretend he cares about me, so why do I care about him?” Another shake of your head that turns into a self pitying sigh. “And then he broke up with me. Me! I mean, can you believe it?”

Kyle clicks his tongue. “All that and you didn’t even get to pull the trigger yourself.”

“Yeah.” You let out another breath, shove this one out like a huff, “Yeah it sucked. Still sucks.” You hiss when your nail catches on the to-go lid wrong. You raise your hand to check that you didn’t hurt yourself, and to avoid looking at Kyle. You wish you could say it feels good to get it out, but it doesn’t. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“Not at all.” Kyle hums. He sips his tea and you glance his way just to be sure he’s not making fun of you. If he’s so fond of drama he should look pleased, right? But he doesn’t, he just looks at you. He raises a brow over his cup and you blink. Caught. No sense looking away now. "Not your fault the guy was an ass."

You open your mouth but Kyle beats you to the punch.

"You're better off without him."

"I am." You agree, though that knowledge doesn't dull the hurt you still feel over the whole situation. You’ve told yourself you’re better off without him a thousand times, and it’s never helped. Knowing it’s true doesn’t mean you feel it, or believe it. 

If you’re being honest with yourself, and you rarely are, you’re more hurt by how well Brad seems to be treating his new girl than you ever were by the realization he was cheating on you. What was wrong with you that he couldn’t treat you like that?

"We're still gonna piss the fucker off." Kyle says before setting his drink down and leaning close. Too close. "Show me his Instagram."

He even holds his hand out, beckons with his fingers to give him your phone a second time. It’s easier this time, there’s already a shred of trust, enough for you to shrug and fiddle with your phone to pull up his profile before handing it over to Kyle.

He spends a few moments scrolling through the profile, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed in distaste, before he nods.

"What a prick."

"I know right?" You give a small smile, feeling more yourself with Kyle insulting your ex. He turns your phone to show you a reel of your ex at the gym. You expect him to make some comment about him posing like a douche or not lifting enough, but instead Kyle shrugs off his coat and holds his arm up to flex for you.

The fitted long sleeve tee positively strains against his bicep and you hope your eyes don't bulge as much as his muscles do. Kyle hums with satisfaction and your gaze darts to his face. The pleased smile he's wearing is somewhere between indulgent and victorious. He drops his arm to grab his cup again and you, God, you don't think you've ever seen a man go from super to unassuming in one small motion. He could pass for any boy-next-door heartthrob from a summer blockbuster.

You sort of want him to lose the shirt. Too bad it's February.

"Brad is going to be so pissed." You manage to mumble, finding the glimmer of rage to pull you back to reality. Kyle's smile splits into a grin. It's really too bad he said to keep his face out of the pictures. He’s got a great smile.

"You got an upgrade," he could say that again, "it's every man's worst nightmare."

"Don't know if I could do much better than you." You joke. Kyle's eyes narrow so slightly that you almost think you imagined it, something distant flickering across his eyes that you can't discern or hold onto. Even his smile seems different, a flash of darkness that you can't find when his grin flashes you.

"How about a second date then," He suggests, "I was thinking ice skating, or the zoo-" You feel a flash of excitement at the prospect of the zoo, you haven't been in ages, but your brain seems to hit the same low note Kyle's does as he frowns, "-might be too cold for the animals though."

"Ice skating is fun." You pick, though it feels like the only option.

*

Kyle offers you a ride to the rink, and you politely decline. You still don't really know the guy, and who knows what sort of murder shit he has installed in his car. Besides, it's not like you can leave your car at the cafe with all your nice clothes in it. He seems disappointed but doesn't push. You don’t know why that tugs at your heartstrings the way it does. You resolve to take him up on his offer next time, as long as he’s alright with you bringing your suitcase. Mostly because the place is crowded and you’re forced to park at the edge of the car park. The wind whips through your coat like a knife as you walk to the rink, and you feel bad keeping him waiting.

It's clear he didn't mind when you finally walk up to the rink. He holds up two skate rental tickets with a triumphant smile that makes you laugh.

The ice is outdoors, but they’ve set up heating lamps that make it feel cozy enough you don't mind the chill as you stand in line for your skates. Kyle tugs his scarf off and wraps it around your neck carefully, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm. He's so warm pressed close like this. A barrier against the lingering chill that you struggle not to cuddle up to.

"Sorry love, should've thought of someplace warmer." He apologizes. You barely feel the cold anymore through the rising heat on your cheeks at the pet name, and don't even hear yourself give the skate girl your shoe size. Had Brad ever called you anything but your name? You don’t think so.

Kyle grabs both pairs of skates before you can hold your hand out, and leads you over to a clear bench. You go to take your skates and he holds them up out of the way.

"Sit," He tells you, so you sit and hold your hands out again. He shakes his head and drops to his knees. "Nope,” he sets the skates to one side and lifts one of your feet to rest on his thigh, “princess treatment you want, princess treatment you're gonna get."

You laugh when he starts undoing the laces on your trainers, then again when he starts trying to shove your foot into the skate. At least Kyle seems to be having fun with it, shaking his head and muttering about being "bloody awful at this."

"You're doing great," You tell him, and he gives you a look.

He pats your skates when he's finished lacing them up and you hang around on the bench waiting for him to finish so you can put your shoes away together.

With how much trouble he had getting your skates on, you expect him to trip as soon as you're out on the ice. He doesn't even flinch stepping onto it, just holds onto your hand and lets you struggle through the first second of adjustment. You push off with your skates and start getting used to the shift of weight that skating requires.

You don’t remember it being difficult, but Kyle hasn’t let go of your hand and you’re not used to compensating for another person’s movement. Not that you entirely mind. His hand is warm around yours and he’s solid when you bump him with your shoulder accidentally. 

"This is fun." You smile up at Kyle and someone slams into your side, knocking you to the ice.

Or they would knock you to the ice, but you're quickly caught by your date. 

Strong arms tighten around you, Kyle's grip is iron where he grabs you and pulls you against his chest. He’s broad, warm, heat creeps over your body and rises through your cheeks. You blink as you work to get your bearings and guilt starts to eat at you. 

You feel the angry expansion of Kyle's breath as he yells after the retreating figure that knocked you over. His chest rising and falling under your hands where your fingers grip his shirt. God, is that muscle you’re feeling? 

His hand covers the back of your head and presses you closer when you try to turn. Kyle’s arm blocks your view so you can't get a clear look at the retreating figure, but he looks massive. Too big to be on skates without looking a little silly. He probably didn’t even notice you, might not have even noticed Kyle. 

“Fucking dick,” Kyle swears, and for a moment you’re almost scared he’ll chase after the guy, do some macho shit that’ll just get his pretty ass beat trying to “defend” you. Leaving you to defend his own masculinity. Replacing actual affection with meaningless undirected rage in the name of “doing right by you.” Just like your ex. 

You physically feel all of his attention shift to you as you tense with anticipation, and his grip softens. “Are you alright, love?” 

The air rushes out of you. You hadn’t realized how tense you’d gotten, poised right at the edge of begging not to make a scene. But Kyle’s not like that, and when you look at him it’s clear he doesn’t have anything to prove, he’s worried about you. It makes something forgotten and tiny clench in your chest. Hope.

“I’m fine, just caught me off guard.” You shake your head, enjoying Kyle’s hold of you for a moment longer before moving to stand again. He lets you go reluctantly, his hands sliding over you as if he’s checking to be sure you haven’t been injured somehow. Instead of taking your hand again, he keeps his palm pressed to the small of your back. You're nestled close against his side, and if you’re honest the angle is a little awkward. You don’t mind. You sort of like it. But If Kyle thought this would make skating any easier it definitely doesn’t, and you think he’s struggling too with the way he shifts on his skates.

You wrap your arm around Kyle’s middle to hug him tight in an attempt to make this easier before you can fully think it through. He laughs, and immediately stumbles, sending both of you tumbling to the ice as he overcorrects his counterbalance and falls backwards. 

You laugh from the ground and feel Kyle’s body shaking with laughter under you. You’re still giggling as you dust the ice off your hands and fumble through trying to help Kyle to his feet as he does the same for you. Two people tugging at each other and stumbling through the entire process, you feel bright and bubbly and you’ve completely forgotten about being bumped into by the time you and Kyle both get up.

You almost feel bad for the goof given the way Kyle rubs his back, but the smile he gives you tells you he doesn’t mind. You’re breathless from the chill and your own attempts to suppress your laughter during the effort of standing, but you still turn to start skating again. Kyle’s quick to grab your arm and pull you back. 

“Wait,” He says, his own smile breathless as well, “picture.”

“Oh, yeah, um,” You glance around for something couple-y to take a photo of and Kyle spins you to face him. His hands stay on your hips, holding you in place. You try to ignore them.

“The skates.” He suggests. 

You glance down at where the tip of your skates are bumping against his, they look different enough that you could probably tell which were yours just from a picture. You pull your phone out of your coat pocket and try to avoid headbutting Kyle’s chest while you snap a few pictures. His skates play with yours as Kyle wiggles his feet in and out of a triangle shape. You smile and glance up at him to tell him to hold still.

Again he’s close, his face inches from yours where he’s leaned over to look at your phones. His head tips ever so slightly to look at you better and you feel his breath ghosting over your cheek. You’ve never felt so… caught, like a rabbit that’s just stumbled into a trap, your eyes fixed on him like a lifeline you’ll never reach. But if you look anywhere else- 

his eyes dart to your lips and you feel your cheeks flash with heat. He looks away quickly and straightens up, clearing his throat. Maybe you’re not the only one enjoying yourself.

It gives you an idea.

“Let’s get another one.” You offer, tugging him over to the wall that surrounds the rink.

“Alright.” He sounds suspicious, but he doesn’t resist. His skates glide over the ice without resistance and you manage to put him against the wall without issue. 

“Ok just right here,” You nod. You hold up your fingers in a square as if you’re lining up the shot and then cozy up next to him, raising your phone for a selfie. Kyle raises a brow, but doesn’t say anything. “Just for us.” You tell him, trying to assure him you’re not breaking his faceless rule.

You set a short timer on your camera and hold your arm out to get the best frame, before you lean up and kiss Kyle’s cheek as the camera clicks. You pull back and grin at Kyle.

“Bet.” He grins, Your phone is slipped from your hand almost as quickly as Kyle pulls you in to kiss you properly.

His lips fix over yours, warm and soft and insistent they part ever so slightly only to pull you in again. Like the gentle lap of waves against a cliffside, the push and pull of a current, he kisses you again and again. The gentle affection of it drips through you like honey, something sweet and indulgent that you want to taste again and again. You should push him away, you barely know him, he’s just some stranger you met online, he could do anything to you. 

Yet, your hands find their way to his shoulders as his tongue swipes against the seam of your lips and you part for the warm wet muscle. Your head tips to the side, your nose brushing his, comfortable, fit together like puzzle pieces. You’re pressed close against his chest, your hands curling in his shirt with the intention of pushing him away --one of the many lies you tell yourself-- but-

But he twists his tongue against yours and you feel something breathless bubble up in your chest. Your head is fuzzy and your skin prickles with desire. It’s been so long since you were kissed like this, like you’re worth kissing. Kyle’s tongue traces a gentle path over yours, before his lips are taking over that gentle push-pull again. His teeth dig into your bottom lip curiously, his mouth slipping against your own over and over again in a leading dance. 

You can’t help wondering if he’s this good with his mouth in other circumstances. One of your friends once told you that the best way to see how someone’s head was, was to make out with them, and you hadn’t understood what they meant but now? Now you’re starting to think maybe your ex was just bad enough at both that you hadn’t made the correlation. Or hadn’t wanted to…

He pulls back and you push into the kiss, unwilling to let it end when it feels so good. You can feel the curve of Kyle’s lips, the part of them as you press your lips to his teeth and he drags his tongue over your lips. It makes your head spin. 

At least Kyle seems to have kept his common sense, pulling away with a searching almost apologetic look. You blink slowly, your eyes heavy as your brain works to piece together what the hell just happened. 

“I-” Kyle clears his throat, “usually I wait for the third date before trying anything.” The joke is weak but your head is spinning too much to do anything but nod like an idiot. Kyle glances at your phone, now clutched in his hand. Recording. You feel another flush of heat pass over your face and he hurriedly fumbles to stop the camera.

You press your hands to your face in embarrassment and listen to Kyle mutter quite swears. You glance back at him and find his eyes glued to your phone. You glance at your phone to see the video of him kissing you playing back. You gasp.

“Delete that!” You insist. Kyle holds the phone up out of your reach, his eyes never leaving the screen. A slurry of swears and insults crowd your mind, perv seems to be the frontrunner on your tongue in the brief second it takes him to tap the screen and hand your phone back. 

The video is stopped, or maybe it’s a screenshot? Either way it’s just you and Kyle standing there. Kyle’s face is entirely hidden but you recognize your own hair and the curve of your face immediately, even if it’s almost hidden by the way Kyle’s head is tilted to kiss you. It looks like a still from a movie, spontaneous but choreographed. Romantic.

The sort of picture that you’ve always wanted to feature you, somewhere deep in your lonely heart. The main character in your own love story.

You can’t post something like that.

“Not good?” Kyle asks when you’ve been quiet too long.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, locking your phone and stuffing it in your pocket. 

“I shouldn’t’ve kissed you.” He winces.

“No that’s not-”

“I’m sorry, it was an impulsive decision. I won’t do it again.” He nods so seriously that it makes panic rise in your throat.

“No!” You’re quick to correct, maybe too quick, “No, it’s-” You take a breath to catch yourself, “-it was nice-” his face falls a little and you correct again, “-good, it was really good I don’t, um- you could do it again, maybe.”

You try to avoid looking at the dazzling grin that seems to bloom over Kyle’s face. He laces his fingers with yours and tugs you back to skating. You think that might’ve been the right answer, because he’s skating just a little faster than before, pulling you along at a pace that makes you breathless. You’re pulled around the rink, weaving between other couples on much more leisurely loops, once and then twice. 

It’s a lot of coordination but you’re almost giddy from the rush of it. You feel like a kid racing with your friends to see who can skate faster, playing games with made up rules and finish lines. Kyle never lets go of your hand, his grip so steady and unwavering you wonder how you were having so much trouble earlier. He only slows to swing you around and crowd you close to another section of the barrier. Pinning you, boxing you in with his hands on either side of you to hold onto the wall.

“When?” He asks eagerly.

“When what?” You laugh. He keeps crowding you, like the man’s allergic to personal space. Somehow you don’t entirely mind, you like having his full attention even if that means he’s a little closer than is comfortable. Besides, Kyle’s warm and smells like something sweet but earthy that you can’t put a name to. It makes you want to press your nose against his neck and breathe until you can figure it out. 

He might let you given how he’s been acting.

“When can I kiss you again?” His response shakes you from your daydreaming. 

“I don’t know,” You try to stifle the laugh this time, though you’re sure it reads clear as day on your face, “buy me dinner first.” You joke.

“How about lunch?” He offers.

“Has to be dinner,” You stand firm, if only because it makes him sigh like you’re asking him to marry you.

“Not open to negotiations then,” You shake your head, “Alright, have it your way.” 

“But we should get lunch too.” You’ll give him that, “All I’ve had today is tea and I’m starved.”

“They’ve got changing rooms here.” Kyle bobs his head like he’s thinking, and tugs at the hem of your sweater, “think we’ve run the course on this jumper.”

You must look confused, before you remember you’re supposed to be changing between dates, because Kyle has to turn his head away from you. He covers up his laugh with a cough that you aren’t buying. It’s cute, sort of makes you want to grab his face just to make him smile at you, to hear him laugh properly. Why the hell is this guy advertising a fake dating service on craigslist?

“I’ll grab some clothes from my car.” You nod.

“No rush,” Kyle says, “I’m not going anywhere.”

*

You suppose it’s because he walked with you to get clothes from your car that he doesn’t offer you a ride this time. He does make a face when he sees your suitcase in the back seat, but aside from offering to help you move it to the trunk, he doesn’t say anything. It's polite, but you feel the distance of it as you walk back to the changing rooms at the rink. You wish he would have offered. It would be annoying having to pick up your car from the park later, but you’d get to spend the extra time with Kyle, and maybe you wouldn't feel this gnawing like you've done something wrong.

Since Kyle gave you options for your "second" date, you give him options for lunch. You know there aren't any wrong answers, especially when you're just pulling nearby restaurants from off your phone's map, but you're a little disappointed when he picks-

"Let's do the other then," He rescinds his choice.

"What?" You look up at him from your phone.

"Let's go to," He leans close to glance at your phone, "Kategna? I'm probably butchering that." He pulls away and you blink at him, "You seem more excited for it."

"Oh, no, I don't-" You wave a hand, "don't think about me, just pick what seems good to you."

"Kategna sounds good," He reaches a hand to tap his fingers under your chin, it's affectionate and patronizing in equal measure, and it makes your face burn like a wildfire, "besides, I don't want to disappoint my best girl."

You glance at your phone and worry your lip.

"Are you sure?" You ask, "It's- we're going to be eating with our hands, if that's not your style-"

"I'm good with my hands love, don't worry about me." He smiles, "Pick somewhere you like, my treat."

He says it like he hadn't assured you the day was on him just a few hours ago. That doesn't stop it from feeling like a treat. It bubbles in your stomach somewhere between guilty and grateful. You should pay if you're forcing him to go somewhere he doesn't want to. You open your mouth and he presses his finger against your lips.

"Ah ah, I told you, it's on me." He moves his finger to tap your forehead, "Don't want to make me a liar, do you doll?"

"If you want to go somewhere else." You couch.

"I want to go to Kategna." He assures you, "Don't think I've had ethiopian since-" He hums thinking, "-probably second to last deployment? That sounds right."

A million questions pop into your head and are just as quickly squashed by Kyle pulling out his phone. You watch him type in the restaurant's name with a spark of disappointment. The feeling of a good date being over creeps up on you before you can remind yourself that you're heading to the next one. Still, you sort of... miss Kyle already.

"I'll see you there," You mumble, turning to power walk to your car before you can say anything stupid. Best not to examine that feeling too closely.

You thank your lucky stars on being able to park near the restaurant and somehow beat Kyle there. You grab a table and wait.

And wait.

You feel your heart starting to sink. You check your phone and realize you don't have Kyle's number. The server swings by to ask about drinks and you assure both of you that you need a few minutes for Kyle to get there. You're not sure you convince yourself, but the server doesn't say anything so you pretend you've convinced them.

You shouldn't be disappointed. You don't really know Kyle, and this wasn't a real date. You had a good time skating, got a decent kiss out of it, and now he's realized you're not worth the trouble of a full day. It hurts, how quickly the feeling of inadequacy seems to creep in. Familiar as an old wound.

You check your phone, reasoning that you'll give him another five minutes when you've already given him ten.

Fifteen minutes.

You resolve to try and enjoy the food by yourself when Kyle finally shows up. He's a little out of breath, and his arm is bent behind his back. It's enough to make you pause, your finger pointing at a tomato salad on the menu and your eyes wide. The server even seems surprised. You're not sure you appreciate that, but your bruised pride swells with relief seeing Kyle hurry to pull out the chair across from you.

"Sorry, love." He huffs. You give him a weak smile, trying not to show the hurt you'd been inflicting on yourself, and he holds out a bouquet. "Saw a shop on my way here," He explains, "thought I'd be quicker."

"Oh." You blink at the flowers. They're beautiful, blue and white with boxwood's soft green breaking up the petals. Little dots of pink peak through the baby blue of the hydrangeas, and you take the paper wrapped bundle from Kyle with a full breath, trying not to look like you're smelling the fragrant bouquet. You can't even remember Brad buying you flowers, he always said it was too expensive for something that was just going to die.

Kyle isn't even dating you and he bought them on a whim.

"Are you ordering?" He asks, settling in his chair and picking up the menu to glance over.

"I'll give you a moment to look over the menu," the server tells him and Kyle waves him off.

"We'll have an order of the tibs wat, the miser alecha, tikil gomen, and-"

"Sambosas?" You cut in and Kyle gives a short huff of laughter. He folds his menu and hands it to the server.

"And two sambosas."

The server nods and you hand over your menu as well. You've never understood the appeal of having someone order for you, but Kyle was so fluid with it. No stuttering or stopping, barely a glance at the menu, and, well, you're willing to forgive a lot given the bouquet. You have to admit though, his choices are smart. A meat and two vegetarian options. Just in case, your brain tells you, because he hasn’t asked if you eat meat and he’s trying to be considerate. 

“Thank you,” You start because you aren’t quite sure what to say, but you can’t stand sitting in silence, “The flowers are really nice.”

“My mum always told me if you’re going to be late you better have something to make up for it.” Kyle smiles, “but I’m sorry if I scared you.” 

He plucks the emotion right from your chest. Scared isn’t the first option you’d have chosen if you were him. Angry maybe, you can understand being angry that he’s late, but scared? Were you that easy to read? Or maybe it’s just that clear from your… everything… how used to being cast aside you are. Maybe it’s written on you in big black letters right where everyone can see.

Your teeth find your bottom lip to pick at the chapped skin there. Uncomfortable.

“So what do you do for work?” Kyle asks, picking at a stray thread on his jumper. You shake yourself from your thoughts.

“Nothing special,” You don’t dislike the question, but you hate talking about work, “I do some graphic design work.”

“That must run you into the city a lot, know a couple advertising firms that-”

“I work from home,” You stop him, “mostly. It’s easier, I like the quiet.” Kyle nods like he understands. You wonder if he does, or if he’s just being polite. “What about you, you said you served. What got you into security?”

Kyle’s face falls, something different taking over. There’s a coldness to his expression, a wall being thrown up. It leaves you feeling off balance, guaranteeing a misstep.

“My mate, I uh,” He clears his throat and leans his elbows on the table, hunching his shoulders forward, “watched him get shot in the head, sort of a reality check.”

“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your mouth, “Oh my God Kyle, I’m-”

“You didn’t know,” He waves it off, “Happier in private security-” he reassures you with a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “-safer than falling out of helos, and I get to take pretty things like you out on the weekend.”

Your body feels like it short circuits, unsure how to take the compliment in the wake of something as tragic as Kyle losing a friend. A memory that you brought up with your poking. God you’re so fucking bad at this. Dating is better left to the people that don’t accidentally bring up the guy’s dead best friend during the getting to know you phase.

“Hobbies?” Kyle asks, reaching for his water. You jump at the chance to talk about yourself. Anything to get the spotlight off Kyle.

“About a million.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. “I feel like I pick one up and get all the materials just to jump to a different one once I’m ready to start.”

“Roommate must hate that.” Kyle smiles. A wave of relief washes over you seeing a little life return to his eyes.

“Thankfully I don’t have to deal with roommates,” You chat, “my last one was awful, really soured me on living with other people.”

“Don’t tell me that, doll.” Kyle blinks, “pretty thing like you all alone? I’ll worry.”

“Oh no,” You reassure him, “I mean I’m near Tinkham Park, so it’s pretty safe and I lock my door.” Kyle looks relieved and you smile at him to sell your point. “Besides, no one is coming after me.”

You mean it as a joke but Kyle’s brows draw down in confusion.

“Why not? I would.” Something squirms in your stomach, you’re sure he means it as a clumsy compliment especially with the way he winces, so you tamp down the spike of anxiety. “That came out wrong.” He tells you, “You’re beautiful.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, like it’ll make you forget the previous sentence. It does. Your cheeks warm and you smile down at your lap with embarrassed glee. Flowers, compliments, a kiss you’re going to daydream over, so far you’d call this a perfect date.

“Let me get a picture.” Kyle’s excitement reminds you, all too clearly, how much of a date this isn’t. He pulls his phone out and you smile as he raises the camera to snap a quick pic. He turns the phone to face you and-

God, you’re not sure if he just got a weird angle or what but you’re seeing a lot of tits in that picture. You glance down at your chest, is your shirt too low? You thought it was cute. Kyle pulls the phone back to look at it with a puzzled expression before it seems to click.

“Oh. Oh!” He taps a few buttons on his phone and tells you, “deleted, how about another one?”

He snaps a few more and swipes through the options before turning the phone back to you.

You’re… pretty, sitting at the table with a wide smile and an excitement behind your eyes that you never saw in any of the photos you took with Brad. You cock your head to the side to inspect in further and deem it worthy when Kyle prods you for an answer.

“Great,” He taps at his phone, “I’ll send it to you.”

“You don’t have my number,” You remind him and he shoots you a devastating grin.

“Then give it to me.”

The server starts setting down plates as you finish enunciating your number, and the smell that hits you makes your stomach growl. Warm, rich spices fill your nose and settle fragrant on your tongue. Saucey meats and soft vegetables, crisp fresh tomatoes and two perfect fried pyramids. You reach for the injera as soon as the server sets a basket of it on the table, unrolling one of the beautifully sour pancakes to start digging in.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling how quickly your eyes go to Kyle’s hands when he tears off a piece of injera for himself. You’re transfixed watching him pinch a piece of chicken and shove the morsel in his mouth. Or maybe it’s the way he licks his lips that does it, pink tongue darting to drag rich sauce off his full lips before dragging along the pad of his thumb. He sucks the digit into his mouth and your stomach drops. You feel a little shudder of something akin to desire ripple through you, chilly but settling warm in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fix on you as he rips another piece of the sour pancake and you rush to pretend you weren’t staring.

Though you can feel his eyes on you just the same as you scoop some of the miser alecha between your fingers and deposit it into your waiting mouth.

It’s embarrassing to think that you put on a show for Kyle, licking the drip of curried sauce off your fingers with a greedy tongue before ripping off another piece. It feels good to be watched. You feel wanted in a way you haven’t before, and when you suck at the tibs wat that lingers on your finger you smile at Kyle and ask him: “What?”

“Nothing,” He swallows, going back to his own meal, “Just looking.”

Your mouth moves with your smile, trying to settle on an expression that isn’t as excited as you feel. You’re not sure it works, or that he doesn’t see the way your eyes dart back to the food after staring at his mouth.

It was so soft when he’d kissed you.

You pull out your phone and get a quick photo of the spread, Kyle’s fingers dipping the injera into the timatim salad in the top of frame. It’s a necessary distraction from the gnawing hunger that seems to creep into you. One you don’t think will be settled with food, or settled any time soon.

Fake date and all.

*

You and Kyle spend longer than you’d anticipated at the little Ethiopian restaurant, eating and chatting. Firstly because you’d ordered another serving of tibs wat after Kyle had nearly licked the plate clean, and secondly because it had taken so long to decide on another activity. 

You have plenty of time to kill before dinner, and you feel woefully unprepared to plan an afternoon date. 

You settle on a crappy action flick with absolutely abysmal reviews. It takes you as long to actually pick the damn thing as it took to decide to see a movie, so you’re making great time. Mostly you pick it because neither of you seem particularly interested in it, and if it sucks at least it’ll give you something to talk about afterwards. 

You like talking to Kyle. There’s something so easy about it, as natural as breathing. The conversation flows like you’ve known him forever, and you find yourself talking more than you’re used to, answering questions and filling in blanks for him about your life. It’s only when you get in your car a third time that you realize, he hasn’t really told you anything about himself. 

You know he was in the military, that he lost someone close to him, and that he’s in security now. You know that he prefers salty over sweet snacks, and that he prefers to wake up early. You know that he has sisters, and that’s about it. It feels like a lot, but… is it? It’s somewhere above surface level, like answers from a dating questionnaire. Enough to give the impression of a person without actually showing you the full picture.

You resolve to ask him about himself more at dinner. You don’t think you’ll have much room for conversation during the movie.

You pull up to the theater and wave when Kyle pulls up right beside you. He smiles and you smile back. Easy. Things are easy with Kyle and you’re wasting your time overthinking, as usual.

It’s a nice distraction when he takes your hand walking into the theater and you feel your brain hiccup as his thumb sweeps over the back of your knuckles. The casual affection makes you want to press for more from a man you barely know. Kyle barely seems to notice, too busy poking at the little ticket ordering screen to pick your seats. You miss the way his finger hovers over the back row of chairs before picking something closer to the middle as you glance at the screen.

“Oh wow this thing is empty.” You laugh, “must be pretty bad.”

“I hope so,” Kyle jokes, “Need something I can force my mates to watch later.”

You grab onto the opportunity to learn more about him.

“Do you and your friends have movie nights?”

“Only when we find something really bad,” He tells you with a smile, “Popcorn?”

You glance at the concession stand and shake your head. “I’m full from lunch.”

Kyle hums, “Me too, we’ll have to go back some time.”

“For sure.” You agree. You try not to think too hard about how going again implies another date, maybe a real one. Of course there is the very real possibility of Kyle just being polite. He’s a nice guy you doubt he’d say ‘I’ll go back but not with you’ to your face.

That thought takes some of the wind out of your sails as you trail behind Kyle to the theater.

You’re halfway to wondering if he even notices when his hand finds yours and he tugs you to walk with him.

“Wouldn’t want you getting lost,” he whispers, “we’ve got a date later.”

You smile and let him lead you to the empty theater.

You enjoy watching Kyle squint at the ticket stubs to try and determine what number your seats are, and sit down only to realize you’re far too early for this movie. The lights aren’t even half-dimmed yet, and the screen is glowing with some silent ad for the concession stand in the lobby. 

You check your phone to see how much time is left until previews and Kyle leans close to your side. 

“Picture time?” He asks.

“Oh, no, I just wanted to see what time it was.” You lock your phone and settle it on your lap. You’re with someone, it would be rude to be on your phone.

“I should’ve found a sooner showtime,” Kyle grimaces.

“It’s fine!” You don’t want to seem disagreeable, “Just don’t know what to do with our time.”

“Don’t wanna talk to me?” Kyle hums. When you look at him he’s got this strange smile, an emotion clear but unreadable. It shudders down your spine like cold water.

“I’ve been doing a lot of talking.” You admit, and earn another hum. Kyle leans close, and tips his head.

“Ask me something sweetheart.”

He’s so close, so definite with his command, that you struggle not to comply. Favorite colors and foods. Where did he meet his mates (met them while serving). What branch was he in (Special Air Service). What did they do (classified). His answers are short and definite and when you struggle to come up with another Kyle takes over.

What sort of food do you like? Really, no allergies then? Oh, is that common in your family? That’s interesting. You don’t say. Tell me more.

Again you find yourself talking and talking.

“I’m not really sure what sort of photo to get,” You admit, as another couple files into the theater, “Just a dark theater? The screen?”

“Just focus on me touching you,” Kyle smiles and you’re a little confused by his phrasing until he moves.

Kyle’s hand settles on your thigh, the position of it is polite, but it still feels overly familiar. You snap a few pictures and lock your phone again, expecting him to move his hand as the lights flick off. You turn to him to- you don’t know, say something, and he raises a finger to his mouth. You shut your mouth tight again and face forward to watch the movie. 

You’re barely ten minutes in when his thumb starts to rub at your thigh. Soft circles that make you tense. It’s affectionate. Too affectionate for a veritable stranger, but when you turn to him again to ask him to move he shushes you. You curl your fingers into fists and try not to squirm when he starts rubbing again. His hand is big and warm on your thigh, his fingers resting just slightly too far along the inside of your jeans for you to ignore. 

You shift in your seat in the hopes that’ll make him move and all it does is slide his hand further up your thigh. Just a few centimeters, but it’s enough to move it away from what you’d call polite. The rub of his thumb feels infinitely higher, and your body seems to zero in on the feeling.

Warmth starts to flicker between your legs, your stomach clenching pleasantly as your skin bristles with the movement of Kyle’s thumb. Such a simple touch, and yet it’s sent your body into high-alert. 

You can’t suppress the shiver that tracks down your spine, and again the motion shifts the placement of his hand. You feel the hover of his fingers where they trace the inside of your thigh like a phantom brush against your cunt. He hasn’t even moved them, hasn’t done more than circle his thumb against denim, and yet your pussy pulses with the need to feel him press his fingers against it. You can almost feel it, can almost imagine the bump of his knuckles against your clothed cunt.

He’s been so polite, he’d probably apologize for it, even though you both know you’re the one that can’t stay still. 

You can’t help the slight push of your hips, into the sensation and --as if on cue-- Kyle’s pinky bumps the warmth between your legs. Your body flushes with heat.

He leans close, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he slides his hand back towards your knee, “Sorry love,” He whispers, and you feel his breath like a touch, “can’t see in here.”

He squeezes your thigh as he leans away and again a shiver tumbles through you. It must be freezing in this theater.

His thumb doesn’t rub, but his fingers are closer to the inside seam of your jeans and splayed wide. His pinky draws towards his ring finger in what you’re sure is just him making his grip more comfortable, but your body follows the trail of it like a bloodhound. Your skin lights up at the short movement and you find yourself hoping he’ll do it again.

You stay resolutely still and try to focus on the movie. You- you have no idea what’s happening.

Kyle spreads his fingers wide again, applying the gentlest pressure as he stretches in his seat. The drag of his touch is intoxicating, it sucks your attention back to it with the slightest movement. You ache for more, for his hand to creep higher, to feel the press of his fingers against your cunt. Even through the layers of fabric you’re sure you’d be able to find some relief in them. Selfishly you shift in your seat, scoot down ever so slightly in the hopes it’ll nudge his grip higher. 

You could chart the path of his hand down to the millimeter. 

You’ve never been more happy for a nearly empty theater than when his thumb starts moving again. Except when the rest of his hand follows.

You have to stop from sucking in a breath when he shifts his grip and his fingers start a short devastating path over the inside seam of your jeans. A soft idle motion, back and forth, almost thoughtless. Well, thoughtless for Kyle. It’s all you can think about. 

It’s too far up your thigh, right where the denim is stretched and thin against your skin. The touch almost tickles, feather light and blisteringly hot. Or maybe it’s the goosebumps that it sends over your skin that makes the rest of you feel cold. You can’t say for certain, only that your brain latches onto it and transfers the sensation to the needy thing between your legs. 

All you can think of is the way he’d drag his fingers over your cunt, would it be with this same soft teasing touch or would he be more focused. You can almost transfer the sensation, the short rub against your thigh trailing higher, until he’s rubbing at your clit, teasing you through the fabric of your jeans and leaning close to whisper-

“I’ll be right back.” You jerk from your daydream as Kyle’s breath hits your cheek and try not to look like you’re scrambling away from the poor guy. An explosion on screen lights up the furrow of his brow as you collect yourself. Probably thinks he startled you from watching the movie. “Bathroom.” He explains, and you nod quickly.

He squeezes your thigh before he gets up and you watch him go to make sure he isn’t running from you.

You press your hands against your face when you’re sure he’s out of the theater and let out a little air scream. 

Get a fucking grip, you tell yourself furiously. This is ridiculous. Kyle’s been nothing but sweet to you on these fake --you repeat that part to yourself a few times for good measure-- dates, and- oh my God is that all it takes for you? Being treated well? A little idle affection?

You press your hands harder against your face and take a deep breath, before dropping your hands down to your lap to try and readjust your focus onto the movie.

It takes a few minutes for you to realize it, but this movie sucks.

Luckily by the time you realize that Kyle’s sliding back into his chair.

He leans over the seat and you tip your head for him to stay close. “What did I miss?” He asks.

“A couple really bad one-liners,” You whisper back, turning to catch his ear, “I’m trying to figure out the layout of this hotel.”

“Whatever works for the plot probably.” Kyle’s voice has something warm at the edge of it, a hint of laughter that makes you smile.

“This movie sucks,” You tell him and feel the sharp exhale of laughter against your neck as you see his shoulders shake in the dark.

“Yeah, it does.” He agrees, his voice tight with that suppressed laugh. You think.

*

You decide to grab a drink after the movie. Mostly to kill time before dinner, but also to give you time to change. You’d forgotten that the bathrooms were past the ticket taker at the theater, so once you’d left it was either find another bathroom or attempt to change in your car. You picked drinks. It was near the restaurant anyway.

Except you’re not sure you grabbed the right clothes once you see the restaurant. It looks fancy.

Kyle stands with you to chat as you dig through the suitcase in your trunk. You pull out a dress and make a face. 

“Want some help?”

“No I- maybe?” You wince, “I don’t know if what I have works for dinner.”

Kyle nudges you with his arm and you shuffle to the side to let him dig through your clothes. He’s purposeful about it, his eyes scanning each piece that he touches before finally pulling out one of the dresses at the bottom.

“This one,” He tells you, handing you the dress. You’re reminded suddenly of this morning when he’d told you, your dinner dress was “his pick,” and take the garment with a small smile.

“You want to do my makeup too Mr. Fashion?” You joke. Something flashes in his eyes and your stomach flips.

“If you’re offering.” The rumble of his voice is lower, devastatingly so, and it simmers hot in your stomach. He isn’t joking. “My sisters used to make me do their makeup,” He tells you, stepping closer, “I’m good at it.”

You feel boxed in. The corner of your car just barely catches your hand as you drop it to your side, and hurriedly raise it again to keep your dress from getting dirty. 

“Let me dress you up, doll.” He pleads, his smile warmer, more friendly. There’s something in the flash of his teeth when he offers though that feels… calculating. 

“I’m-” You try to think of a way to deny him, “You don’t want to sit in the bathroom with me for that, do you?”

He sits you at the bar instead, lays out the minimal makeup you’d brought and touches your face with soft hands. He tips your chin up and you close your eyes a little too tightly at the feeling. You’re not used to this, it feels strange and you’re not sure you like it.

“Hold still for me.” Kyle murmurs to you.

“What if I want a drink?” You try to joke.

“Then you ask me for one.” He responds easily, and you hear the squeeze of  your tinted moisturizer. His fingers sweep over your cheeks, over your chin, down your nose and across your forehead. Rubbing in the blurring color before leaving you. You open your eyes enough to see him toying with the concealer you’d brought.

“We’ll need to get better supplies.” He mumbles to himself and you shut your eyes again from him to dot the little wand under your eyes and against your eyelids. Eyeshadow, precise eyeliner. It’s cold and practiced. It makes you think he’s done this before, maybe on more than just his sisters. It’s not until he gets to your lips that you start feeling off. His breathing is even but heavier somehow, his touches linger, and his breath skates across your skin. He’s close to you, and you can feel the heat that radiates from him.

His thumb finds your mouth, and tugs at your lip. You open for him, and wonder why he didn’t just ask. Only to feel the pad of his thumb press down against your tongue.

It’s brief, but it startles you, and you jerk away. Your eyes fly open and he’s holding up your favorite lipstick, looking like you’re getting jumpy for no reason. His hand is settled in his lap and his brows are raised.

“I can do it.” You insist and grab the metal tube from him. Your hands shake as you unlock your phone and try to apply your lipstick in the mirror image on screen.

Kyle watches you like a hawk.

*

You’re shown to your table almost as soon as you walk in the door. The restaurant is beautiful, softly lit by chandeliers with cream colored tablecloths and plates edged with gold. The sort of place you’ve always wanted to visit but never had the chance. Every inch of the place speaks to a level of class and sophistication that was always out of reach when you were with Brad. He never wanted to spend more than was necessary, but Kyle-

Kyle…

Your head is still reeling from Kyle’s makeup application, the firm guiding hand he’d used to turn your head, the gentle touch of the brush as it swept over your eyelids. It should have felt more relaxing, right? But something about it had set you on edge, something flinty and cold in the warm umber of his eyes that had made you think twice about relaxing around him. Then his thumb against your tongue…

You’re starting to think you’d imagined his finger in your mouth. He wouldn’t do that, right? Kyle’s nice; sweet. You like him, and you just got caught up in the moment. You were looking for something wrong, something devious in a man who had been nothing but kind to you, because you were treated so badly by your ex.

Obviously.

He doesn’t act like anything is wrong, or like he did anything wrong. Kyle acts exactly as he has been all day. He’s kind, considerate, he pulls your chair out for you and orders a bottle of wine before the server leaves, he’s exactly the same.

You must have imagined it.

But you can’t get the feeling of pressure off your tongue.

You stare at the menu without really reading it, the crisp heavyweight paper on a leather bound board provides you no aid. You can’t get your brain to focus on the black lettering for long enough to absorb anything it’s telling you. 

If you did imagine it, what does that say about you? That you’re so touch starved it’s almost consumptive? Or maybe that you want Kyle to be pushy with his touching? More pushy, at least. More touchy in a way that feels more provocative than platonic. Anticipatory and intentional. You want him to touch you in a way that says “I want this, I want you, and I’m willing to take a risk to make it happen.”

God help you if you’re developing a public play kink, you really don’t need that right now.

“See anything you like?” Kyle asks, setting his menu down. Your eyes train on the way he laces his fingers together and sets his hands on the menu to lean closer to you. He’s changed the rings he’s wearing again. Gold bands that sit on his middle and ring finger on one hand, pinky and pointer on the other. The warm yellow metal flashes like starlight against his dark skin. You wonder what it would feel like against your tongue, clicking against your teeth…

You rip your eyes from his hands to meet his gaze, your face is warm and you feel a little embarrassed. You can’t say why. You weren’t staring at anything bad, and if this is all in your imagination then Kyle would have no reason to suspect what you were thinking about. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of being caught doing something wrong. So you shake your head.

“I don’t know, it all looks good.” A non-committal answer, you look at the menu to try and see if you can parse any of it on a second try. 

There’s a salad that looks good, one or two mains that you might enjoy. No prices on anything. That stops you, you glance at Kyle. He’s still looking at you, a smile creeping onto his face.

“There’s no wrong answer, love.” He tells you, reaching across the table to press your menu down, “Show me what you’re looking at.”

Your eyes trace his fingers where they settle against the paper before drifting down to what you’d been looking at.

“This maybe,” You point at one of the mains you’d been eyeing, then over to the other, “or this.”

“Anything else?” He prods. You give him a look and watch his teeth catch his lip as he smiles. “I’m happy sharing if you can’t decide.”

Panic slices through you. Share? This is a nice restaurant, you can’t share.

Kyle’s hand covers yours where you’re starting to pick at the edge of the menu.

“We can switch plates if that makes you more comfortable.” He offers, “I’m not picky, if you want to try something I’ll get it.”

“That’s not fair to you, I’m fine with-”

“I want to do it,” Kyle cuts you off. “I get to try two things, and you’re happy no matter what.”

“I-”

You’re interrupted by your server bringing the bottle of wine Kyle ordered. He plunges a needle like device into the top and pops the cork before handing it off to Kyle for inspection. It must pass whatever metric Kyle has because the server sets two glasses on the table and pours you each a healthy serving. 

You take your glass to taste the wine before you realize Kyle is ordering for both of you, again. That yummy sounding salad with strawberries and green apple, and both of the mains you’d shown him.

You hadn’t even asked what he wanted.

You set the wine down as discomfort gnaws at your stomach and Kyle lets the server run off with your order.

“I didn’t even ask what you wanted.” You whisper, leaning over the table to try and grab Kyle’s attention.

“I told you already, love,” He insists, “I’m not picky, and even if I was you have good taste.”

You raise a hand to cover your face and drop it just as fast when Kyle arches a brow at you. No hiding from him, or your shame.

“Well,” You fish for something to assuage your guilt with, “what do you like to eat?” You add on quickly, “For next time.”

Kyle’s eyes flick down to your plate, you hadn’t even noticed your server stealing the menu away, and then back to your face. He schools something behind his eyes before you can parse what it is, and for some reason you desperately want it back. A heat that he’d squashed before it could burst into a fire. Tempering himself.

“Learned to take what I could get when I was serving,” He tells you with a sly smile, “but sweet things like you fill me up just fine.”

You feel yourself burst with heat.

Idle flirting, you tell yourself as you try to subtly fan your face. Kyle laughs and despite any trepidation you may have had around the sound, any fear he was making fun of you keeps its head down.

He grabs your hand and pulls it to hold his over the table.

“I’m teasing, love.” He leans to press his lips against your knuckles, and smooths out the tickle with his thumb, “Wouldn’t do anything like that in a place like this.”

Where would he do it then, you wonder. His house maybe? Maybe your flat? Oh God, do you want him to come back to your flat? Is that even an appropriate thing to want? Would he care?

Kyle’s thumb keeps rubbing at your knuckles, his smile even and kind. Nothing about you seems to fluster or surprise him. You sort of like that. You haven’t had to temper yourself or push yourself down to be someone else with him. And he hasn’t asked you to.

“So, what are we going to talk about now?” Kyle asks.

Sports, it turns out. The first time you’ve gotten Kyle talking all day, the first time he hasn’t directed it back to you, and it’s about sports. Rugby specifically, apparently he and his friends play on a rec team. 

It’s such a masculine thing that you don’t know why it surprises you.

Maybe it’s how gentle Kyle’s been with you all day, the lack of aggression when you’d been knocked over at the park, but seeing him talk so animatedly about his hobby you’re pleasantly surprised. He smiles so wide as he tells you stories about injuries, and his mate “Soap” who can’t go a season without twinging his knee. 

Honestly, you might be more surprised to hear him talking so much, but it’s nice. His voice rumbles at a pleasantly low register as he leans over the table to talk to you. His eyes sparkle and his lips seem to form every syllable with perfect precision, as if his mouth can’t help giving each letter the same courtesy of speech. It’s chatter enough to give you a break from speaking, but still feels like a conversation. You’re allowed to ask questions here, to prod into stories about his life outside of whatever box he’s restricted your answers to, and you do freely.

By the time your server brings your food, Kyle doesn’t feel like a stranger. In fact your brain has squarely put him in the category “boyfriend material.” If he talked about you with the same enthusiasm you might die.

You give the server a quick thank you as they place your food in front of you, and you settle your napkin in your lap. Kyle’s hand drops to his lap as he does the same and knocks his fork to the floor. The huff he lets out is one of good natured annoyance as he ducks under the table to fetch it. He passes the dirty fork to the server and they promise to return with a clean one. 

Kyle pours you another glass of wine as he waits and you sip at it for something to do. It’s only polite to wait for him to be able to eat before you tuck in. Plus a little liquid confidence never hurt anyone. 

You take a longer sip when Kyle looks to take his new fork from the server and feel the warm tingle of alcohol slipping into your veins. You’ve spent all day with this guy and he still makes you nervous, though the reason has shifted from this morning. Your stomach flutters with butterflies instead of rolling with a sense of danger, and though that little voice in the back of your head nags that this guy is still a stranger you’re able to shrug it off easily. 

It's anticipatory nerves. You’re waiting for something to happen, for the other shoe to drop, and now that the day is almost over you’re worried there may not have been any shoes in the first place. Kyle is exactly what he’s presented himself to be, a gentleman who wants to give you a good day. A good date, you amend. It’s been a fantastic date, even if the point of it hasn’t been to get to know each other as much as to get revenge on your ex.

The thought reminds you to snap a picture of dinner, and as you tug your phone from your purse Kyle reaches across the table to refill your wine. It makes for a great shot, your “new man” giving you a generous pour of a nice bottle of wine with a table full of gourmet food. The only thing you’re missing is two dozen roses and a jewelry box and this would scream “upgrade.” 

You wonder if you could get the bouquet Kyle got you from the car.

He sets the wine back in its place and takes your hand as you settle your phone back in your purse. He raises his wine glass with a prompting look for you to do the same.

“To a wonderful date,” Kyle says, tapping his wine glass against yours, “I’ve enjoyed every minute.”

“You’ve been amazing.” You tell him pulling your glass back to take a drink. “I think every woman on earth will be jealous of these pictures.”

Kyle hums and sets his glass down to start cutting into his food. He spears a bite with his fork and holds it out to you.

“Open,” He offers and you lean forward to let him place it on your tongue. It’s delicious, and the look Kyle gives you as you pull away could fuel your wet dreams for months.

You grab your wine and down it, trying to drown the memory of Kyle’s thumb pressing down against your tongue, that same command to open bouncing through your head.

Kyle pours you another helping with a smile, and pretends to sip at his own glass.

*

You’re feeling pleasantly tipsy by the time you finish dinner and Kyle finishes signing the check. Your body buzzes warmly with wine, and your head is just fuzzy enough to notice without making you sleepy. You’re right at that stage of alcohol consumption where your brain is pumping out feel good hormones and you’re itching to be touched.

Kyle’s hand slides across the small of your back as you stand, and you feel your nerves light up at the touch. Then feel the heat of his hand drip down your spine to pool between your legs. You can still remember how his fingers had slid over your thigh earlier, and a shiver slips through you. You want more than just casual touching.

“Cold?” Kyle asks, pulling you closer against his side.

“Not really,” You tell him, though you see no reason why that would stop you from cuddling up against him. Big warm man.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Kyle says, steering you towards your car. You pout. Those are the date wrap up words.

“Me too.” You wish it didn’t have to end.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Kyle offers, though it’s pointless to ask when he’s already doing it. It still makes you smile, makes you nod.

It’s quiet walking back to your car. You feel like you’re dragging your feet, trying to find some way to linger in the moment before you leave and never see Kyle again. This day, this date, has been perfect. It needs a perfect ending.

You stop at your car and turn to face Kyle. He looks… conflicted. His brows drawn with worry and his jaw clenched. You don’t think he wants it to end either.

Emboldened by the alcohol you get your second bad idea of the day.

You grab his shirt and drag him close to kiss him.

And he grabs you like he’s been waiting for this for years.

He's rougher this time when he kisses you. His hands wander to grab at your waist, your hips, your thighs, squeezing and pulling like he could engulf you in the feeling. You can barely breathe, your nose stuffed full of that sweet earthy scent and the slight sour note of sweat as Kyle's tongue pushes into your mouth. Your stomach flips and heat pulses between your legs as he strokes his tongue against yours, teasing you into a lapping dance that you struggle to follow. Your head spins from the alcohol, it has to be the alcohol.

The pulse in your core tightens pleasantly, a rapid contraction that makes your breath puff from you in a short, humiliating, half moan. And Kyle licks it from your lips, drags his tongue against the lipstick you'd applied and pulls it across to your cheek. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue to follow his lead, your tipsy brain only half following the steps, only for him to meet your tongue with a hunger you didn't know men could have. Not for you, at least. 

You arch into his hold, feeling the firmness of his chest against yours, as he pushes his knee between your legs. You’re pinned to the trunk of your car and as your back arches against the lid of your trunk you wonder what Kyle would do if you bent over it. He probably wouldn’t fuck you in this fancy restaurant’s carpark. Right? No. But maybe? No.

You shake your head to clear it and feel Kyle press against your hip. The heat of his rigid cock makes you want to rut against his thigh like an animal. God you want him. 

“Let me take you home,” He murmurs, dragging his lips over your cheek to nip at your earlobe, “Make you forget your ex.”

“Please.” You mumble, twisting your fingers in his shirt. He kisses you again, and you open for him without prompting. You can’t stop yourself from licking into his mouth, chasing the taste of him as excitement thrums through you. Spending the night with Kyle sounds like a dream come true.

Your ass bumps your car against as your cant your hips against his leg.

Spending the night…

You should grab a change of clothes.

“You’re driving?” You ask, your head fuzzy as you pull away.

Kyle hums, “Don’t think I should let you drive like this.”

That’s fair, you may have had a little too much to drink.

And doesn’t that just make you all the warmer?

Kyle’s been such a fucking gentleman, the idea that he’d take advantage of you like this makes you want to pull his cock out right here. He’s so considerate, offering to drive, offering to make you forget your ex, paying for everything all day- God! God, you just want him to be a little scummy, to have that one little thing that’s wrong with him for your benefit. You want him to make a mess of you because you know he’ll put you back together again.

“Let me grab clothes,” You tug at his hips when he tries to pull away, not eager to let him move too far when you’re buzzing like this. Still, you have to be an adult.

You pop the trunk and grab a dress from your suitcase. You’re in a hurry, and you’ll be back for your car later, who cares if you’re a little fancy tomorrow?

Kyle’s hands slip over your ass and you push back into the feeling.

“Fuck me you’ve got a nice ass.”

You giggle at Kyle’s groaned compliment, and straighten up to watch him adjust himself as you slam the trunk shut.

“Your place?” You remind him, and he slides his hand into place against your back to guide you to his car.

Those wonderful fingers stroke over your panties the entire drive, teasing your sopping cunt and dragging down your bare thighs. His body presses you against the elevator wall, his lips trailing  over your neck and his teeth nipping at your pulse as you climb to his flat. His hands barely leave your hips long enough to unlock the door and even once it’s open he all but shoves you toward the bedroom.

You try to get his fly open as soon as you get inside, but-

“Want to fuck you properly,” He insists, “like you deserve.”

You’re not going to argue with that.

Especially not when he strips his shirt off as soon as he flicks the lights on in his bedroom. All that firm muscle you’d felt earlier in the day on full display, with a nice smattering of hair down his chest to the fly of his trouser, it makes your mouth water. You’re all too quick to follow in stripping, the alcohol making you feel bold. Kyle’s eyes rake over you, and the burst of heat that follows their path makes you feel sexy; wanted. When’s the last time a man looked at you like that? Like he’d walk through Hell just for a photo of you.

He’s quick with his trousers, tugs his boxers down with them and kicks them to the side with his shoes.

Your eyes follow his hands, stopping on the flash of metal that peeks out from the dark foreskin at the head of his half-hard cock. Your mouth waters. You’ve never wanted to blow someone so badly in your life. Kyle looks down and smiles.

“Was worried it might scare you off,” He confesses. The knowledge that you could worry him sparks in your chest pleasantly.

“Not scared,” You mumble, watching him settle on the bed and wrap a hand around his cock. He strokes it, watching you, and you feel the air settle on your heated skin.

“Want to taste it?” He asks, and you fall to your knees so quickly it hurts. You must wince because Kyle reaches for you with concerned eyes, and pulls you up from the floor onto the bed.

“Get comfortable baby,” He advises, “you’re not going anywhere.”

As if to demonstrate Kyle scoots to lay back against the pillows, spreading his legs wide enough for you to crawl between them and settle on your stomach. Definitely more comfortable. Your knees will thank you.

You spit on your hand and wrap it around Kyle’s cock, giving him a testing stroke before you lean close to drag your tongue up his length. He’s so warm and thick in your hand, you wonder how he’ll feel stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Kyle hisses when you flick your tongue against the piercing that works it’s way through the head of his gorgeous cock, “ dirty girl.” A flush of heat ripples over you, and you drag your tongue against the metal again, letting those two words work their way through you again and again. 

You open your mouth, hold your tongue out to drag long slow licks over the head of Kyle’s cock, letting him watch the wiggle of your tongue, the twist of the ring and the pump of your hand. It feels like magic watching his pupils dilate in the low light, his teeth gritting before his head drops back and his hand finds its way into your hair. 

“Filthy,” He mutters, “perfect beautiful, filthy girl.” He takes a breath and his fingers tighten in your hair, his head raising as he adjusts the pillows behind his head. “You like it?” He asks and you- God you feel bold, feel like proving him right, you take his cockhead into your mouth and close your lips around it with a pleased hum.

Praise was always what got you, but now you were wondering if that’s just because you heard it so rarely. Kyle had showered you with affection all day, and now to hear even the slightest dirty talk from him you feel like you’ll burst into flames. 

You flick your tongue against the ring, tasting the metal and the salt of his skin, yeah you like it. 

Your eyes cross a little looking at the ring that sits at the base of his cock, the piercing you still haven’t quite figured out, but desperately want to press your nose against. 

“Feels even better inside of you,” Kyle presses, his hand giving the slightest pressure, encouraging more than demanding you to take more of him. 

Your eyes flutter closed and you flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock as you bob your head down his length. The skin is soft under your tongue, soft and warm. His cock twitches against your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks to suck, unwilling to hit your gag reflex so soon. You want to be good for him, to make this good for him, and your head is still swimming just enough from the alcohol that you’re unwilling to risk gagging. 

Soft mouth, you think to yourself as Kyle tells you.

“That’s it love, just as much as you can take.” He wraps his hand over yours and pumps it up and down his length as you bob your head to meet his fingers. Your nose bumps his fist and the flutter in your stomach clenches hard enough to force a needy little whine from you. 

Kyle’s grip on your head tightens to an almost painful degree and holds you in place, his hand stroking up to press against your lips as you try to swallow around the cock on your tongue. You mouth fills with saliva and each bump against your lips makes you feel like it’ll leak out, already you can feel drool starting to slick at the corners.

Kyle pulls you off and tells you, “spit” before you can do anything else. The command in his voice is too strong to ignore, and though it feels humiliating you let your spit drip onto the head of his cock. He holds you there, hovering above it, watching the rivulets of it drip down the length only to be caught in the stroke of your layered fingers.

“So good at following orders, aren’t you, doll?” You nod and it pulls at Kyle’s grip, the short bursts of pain doing nothing to dissuade you from attempting to get him in your mouth again.

You hold your tongue out to catch the ring of his Prince Albert with the tip of your tongue, the warm metal so tantalizingly close and yet so far away. The slick pump of your spitty fingers fills the room. The push of his foreskin against the flared head with each stroke makes your mouth water. You wonder, if you ask, will he come on your face? Do you want him to come on your face? To paint you with ropes of warm come only to sweep it off with his fingers and push it into your all too eager mouth? You do. You really do.

Which must show on your face, because Kyle groans and squeezes your fingers tight around his cock.

“Come up here love, let me taste you.”

You pull off his cock with a pop and lap at the pre-come starting to bead around his piercing. The bitter fluid and the metal tang burst on your tongue and you find yourself distracted circling your tongue over his slit. Kyle tugs at you, and you’re forced to crawl up his deliciously toned body.

He helps you settle your knees on either side of your head, and before your brain can lodge a single syllable of worry over being too heavy for him, his hands have clamped onto your thighs and pulled you against his mouth.

The noise that leaves you is absolutely sinful. Half shocked cry, half moan, as his lips close around your clit and suck, pulling the tight bud with a pressure that makes you want to buck. Your hands find the edge of the headboard and grab on, your chin dropping to your chest to watch the way Kyle’s eyes lid with pleasure at the first taste of you.

His tongue cards flat through your folds, a leisurely stroke that feels like it’s prepping your body for the firm roll of his tongue against your clit. Back and forth and around, circling your clit with determined strokes only to lick over it, each roll making heat pulse through your core. Pleasure clenches in your stomach, making you gasp at the focused lap of his tongue. 

Kyle groans, his tongue leaving your clit to lick between your folds and tease at the entrance of your cunt. Gentle pressure that strokes at the soft wet skin, teasing the edge of your pussy until you’re ready to beg for him to push it inside. Your back curls, and you lean your forehead against the edge of the headboard, your traitorous hips rocking into the roll of Kyle’s tongue.

His nose bumps against your clit and a quiet noise escapes your throat. He tips his head back to direct his attention back to the sensitive bud. His tongue traces patterns over your clit, flicking against it until the jolts of pleasure leave you panting, your hips jerking with each move of his tongue. Your cunt feels like it’s melting.

Each touch to your clit zips up your spine and drags back down to pool between your legs, your cunt fluttering and clenching around nothing as your brain attempts to keep up with the stimulation. Kyle’s mouth is like a furnace, stroking wet heat over your core in long luxurious licks that drag slick up and down your slit. The prick of his mustache against sensitive skin as he turns to wipe his lips against your thigh tickles, but all you can focus on is how wet his mouth is.

His teeth tease the soft skin of your inner thigh, and your stomach flips. You try to mentally will him to bite, to mark you with that sharp pain that will slip like water through your veins and make you all the more pliant for him. Instead, those neat white points trail back to your cunt, and scrape over your clit with a pleased hum. You gasp, and shudder against his mouth. 

Kyle kisses your cunt with tongue and gently nipping teeth, bringing heat rushing to your cunt until it’s positively tingling with the need for more; the need to be filled. His thumbs rub against your skin in gentle soothing circles, attempting to make up for the iron grip that the rest of his fingers have on you. His hands are spread wide and greedy, pulling you into place and holding you there. You can offer no resistance, but why would you want to? Kyle’s mouth is wickedly clever and you think of the way his tongue had twisted against yours as it wiggles against your clit, edging you closer and closer to orgasm. 

And you can feel yourself start to give. The attention to your clit makes your legs shake, muscles starting to pulse and pull tight with your need. Your hips jerk and thrust against his mouth, your body desperate for more. Your breath comes quick, your moans grow louder, your vision blurs as your eyes roll. You shudder and shake as your cunt clenches tight and releases. You try to focus on the feeling, to will the orgasm to happen.

Sparks of pleasure that make your stomach flip and your legs shake. Your poor pussy desperately squeezing like a vice as if that will be enough to fill it up. And Kyle’s mouth working over you like he’s never enjoyed anything more. 

His tongue buries itself inside your tight cunt, and he shakes his head to rub his nose against your clit. The low groan that purrs against your heated skin makes your legs clench, and when he drags his tongue back up to wrap his lips around your clit you come.

Your body curls in on itself and your hands shoot from the headboard to grip at his hair. Your legs shake and you let out a pathetic whimpering moan that seems to build louder, higher, with each encouraging lick to your clit. Your pussy clenches hard, tight, tight, tight, and then releases with a flutter as you squeeze your eyes shut and try not to crush Kyle’s head between your thighs.

Kyle’s grip shifts and in a flurry of movement you’re flipped into your back on the mattress. Your knees hook over Kyle’s shoulders and you slip off to bounce against the bed with a shriek before his hands are pressing against the back of your thighs, his eyes trained on your cunt as he slides that perfect cock over your wet folds. Your hands fly to grab his wrists, to slide over his forearms, up his biceps, to claw at his shoulders as he leans his weight onto you and folds you in half.

The head of his cock catches your entrance, and pushes inside.

Your breath stops, held back by the burn of stretch as your cunt is filled. Kyle’s cock works you open centimeter by centimeter, pressing in and in until your chest feels locked too tight to do anything but make your mouth gape like a fish. His hips press flush against your ass, his hands squeeze your thighs. His hips pull back and thrust into you hard, hitting some delicious bundle of nerves that makes you throw your head back as your back arches to try and push him deeper.

The air rushes back into your lungs in time to hear Kyle’s low moan join your own high pitched,

“Fuck!”

You can feel his piercing nudging against your walls, pressing with the head of his cock against that deep throbbing part of you that sparks with a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes your head spin. You can barely get a breath in around the thrust of Kyle’s hips, can’t think of anything but ‘too much’ and ‘not enough’ and ‘more, more, more.’ You rake your nails down Kyle’s chest, scrambling to find purchase as your hips start to ache with the strain of being forced into position.

The sound of wet skin against skin fills the room, accenting the fever pitch of your moans, punched out with each slap of Kyle’s hips against you. His cock feels like it’s reaching your stomach, twisting you into knots that spill molten heat into your limbs until they start to shudder from the strain. Your head is fuzzy with pleasure, unthinking and uncaring about anything but the slick slide of cock in and out of your cunt.

He’s so warm, his skin is so fucking warm, and his piercing tugs at the rim of your entrance as he pulls out to slap his thick cock against your still buzzing clit.

“Pretty thing,” He coos, “tell me what you want.”

Your breath shudders, sparks splintering through you with each slap against your clit. The pain is dull, but the humiliation of watching him toy with you makes heat bloom over your cheeks.

“Fuck me,” You whimper. You’re not sure if you mean it as a command, or if you mean it simply as an expletive. It doesn’t matter, your pathetic lips form the syllables and Kyle fills in the rest, sliding his cock back home in your needy little cunt.

“Yeah,” He breathes, “that’s all you need isn’t it?” His cock keeps hitting that perfect throbbing spot, pressing into that tight bundle of nerves that feels so impossibly deep, fucking the air out of you until you’re gasping and writhing and all but begging to feel it again. “You want me to keep you, love?” He offers, “Keep you a pretty little doll, nice tight hole always wet for me, not a thought in that pretty head of yours?”

You nod, maybe it’s the alcohol or the desperation to have someone like Kyle want someone like you but when his hand reaches to wrap around your throat, his thumb pressing up against your jaw, you tip your head and tell him, “Yes God!” 

You want him to fuck you like this every day, to treat you like a princess and take you through orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore. You want and you want. You want so badly it feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Mine,” Kyle tells you, and you whimper.

“Yes,” You plead, “Yes, yes, yes.”

It shudders through you, arches down your back as you press into his grip. Your legs squeeze together, that aching point pooling through your musculature, working its heated fingers into every corner of you. Kyle works a hand between your thighs and pinches your clit hard; you see stars. Your body jerks and shakes, and you feel a rush of liquid between your legs, hear the wet squelch of it as his cock continues pumping into you as you come.

And come.

*

When you wake up in the morning it’s to soft sunlight streaming in through gauzy curtains and an empty bed. The duvet is nicely weighted and the sheets are so soft you’re almost tempted to fall asleep again, but the noise of movement from outside the room rouses you enough to sit up and take stock of your surroundings. You hadn’t gotten a good look at Kyle’s place when you’d tumbled in last night but it’s nice. He’s organized and has more of a personal style than you can say for most men. 

Worry starts to creep in almost immediately. Had you made the wrong call coming home with him? What if he thought you were easy? Or threw you out now that he’d gotten what he wanted.

Oh my God you don’t have your car. You can’t just leave you’ll have to call an uber back to the restaurant and- Fucking hell, why did you do this? Where’s your common sense? How are you going to get your car? What if it’s been towed, or broken into, or-

Kyle pushes the door open with two mugs of tea clutched in his hands. He looks surprised to see you up, and shoulders the door the rest of the way open with a pleased smile.

“Good morning.” He says, that same gentle, eager, tone he’d used to take you home last night making your brain fuzzy. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” You fumble for the correct response, “I, um- thanks. For letting me sleep over.”

“Of course,” Kyle sets a mug with little cat pawprints on it on the table beside you, and perches himself on the edge of the bed by your feet, “I’m never going to kick a pretty girl out of bed.”

“Oh.” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. You don’t know what to say to that, and make yourself busy with grabbing the mug and blowing on the steaming tea. Kyle hums, watching you over the rim of his mug as he takes a sip.

He makes a noise when he swallows, and lowers the mug with pursed lips.

“So, I was thinking.” He starts and you feel your heart drop.

He was thinking you shouldn’t post the photos, that you should never see each other again, that you should leave soon because he has someone better coming over.

“There’s a great breakfast place down the street, if you’re hungry.” He says, almost shyly, “We could start date two with pancakes?”

You feel your heart lurch in your chest, hopeful.

“Yeah?” You ask and he smiles.

“Yeah,” like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “I’d be stupid lettin’ you get away.” You smile, and sip your tea to cover some of the warmth in your chest. “I think we’ve got a real spark.”

“Me too.” You agree. It feels like an admission, like something you should keep close to your breast where the rest of your silly fancies live, but-

But you want Kyle to know.

You want him to know that you like him, that you want him, that it wasn’t all just some revenge plot that’s gone terribly awry. Most importantly you want this to be real, to give yourself a real chance with an amazing guy.

To forget about what’s-his-name permanently.

“But can I get french toast instead?” You ask, already feeling your stomach rumble. Kyle grins.

“Oh doll, after what you’ve given me, you can have whatever you want.”

*

Gaz scrolls through his security footage while you shower, saving sections of video from the night before to a secure folder. Your ass wiggling in front of the camera as you blow him, your silly little head bobbing while your cunt is on full display. Your lips wrapped around his cock in a different camera’s lens, lashes fluttering and drool dripping from you as you bob your head up and down his length. He skips forward a few minutes and switches the camera to watch your thighs flexing as he holds you down against his face to eat your cunt, your hips grinding down against him and your lips parted as you whimper and moan for him. Another few minutes and your tits are bouncing as he fucks into you, your head tipped back and your lips parted around a perfect ‘o,’ your legs against his chest as you claw at his grip on your throat. More time, another position; Gaz’s hands digging into the dip of your waist as you ride him, groping at your chest, your cunt swallowing his cock with every motion of your hips. God, your ass looks good from this angle, he’ll start easing you into the idea of him fucking it soon. 

You’re such a sweet thing, so easy to get information out of and convince of things. So eager to be good that you’ll go against your own judgement to please him. He’s never seen a rabbit walk directly into a trap, but you? What a silly, stupid girl. You probably don't even remember him coming in you.

You’re perfect.

He grabs a screencap of you riding him and sends it to his groupchat with the rest of the 141.

Gazoline: [sent image] Gazoline: Easy.

A typing bubble pops up immediately. Followed by another.

Ghost: Told ya. Sudz: Yer jokin Gazoline: Lt with the assist. Sudz: YER JOKIN

He locks his phone hearing you shut the shower off and shoves it in his pocket. It buzzes insistently as you poke your head out of the bath. You’re clutching a towel around your chest, as if Gaz hasn’t already seen it all.

“I was just thinking about how lucky it is I have a change of clothes.” You tell him.

“Well, look at that,” Gaz hums, “that is lucky.”

And what is luck if not careful planning?

[smutoperator]

Vacation In Vietnam

Kim Bora (SuA), Jang Seungyeon x Male Reader

Tags: 100% anal, A2M, ass eating, best friends, big butt, bikinis, clit fingering, cum on ass, dirty talking, doggy, hotel sex, lap dance, nip slips, no-hands blowjobs, poolside sex, sex toys, sloppy, swimming, throatfucking, tourist, twerking, wet bodies, wild girls

Word count: 5497

You had just checked into your hotel in the beautiful resort town of Da Nang, in Vietnam, after a very long flight that still left you jet-lagged. As you climbed upstairs, you found the hotel's pool, just as a beautiful East Asian woman emerged from it.

"Come swim with me," the woman told you. I just arrived from a long flight, and I need some time to rest," you told her. Take your time," she answered back. "By the way, what is your name?" you asked her.

"Bora, but you can call me SuA," she answered. "Such a nice name, SuA," you told her as you headed towards your bedroom, which gave you a perfect view of SuA swimming with her sexy butt up. She wasn't exactly the best swimmer but you really enjoyed watching her from afar fighting the pool tides while showcasing her sexy body.

After some good rest, you finally felt like it was time to know her better, so you headed into the locker room beside the pool, just as you were entering, you found a sexy tanned Asian woman who was taking a mirror selfie as she flaunted her hot body by wearing a black bikini with white straps that exposed some of her underboob.

"What are you looking at?" The tanned woman suddenly asked you. "Er, nothing," you answered her, trying to deflect. But she knew you were lying. "You were looking at my hot body and my big ass, weren't you, pervert?" she asked again. "No, no," you answered her, trying not to get yourself in trouble.

"Come on, I wasn't born yesterday, all those guys when they see me like that start to look at me with some naughty eyes. And I love that," she told you, throwing you off balance. "I can see why, that body is hard to resist," you told her. "Yes, a dancer needs to always stay in shape," she answered.

"So you're a dancer, interesting," you told her. "Yeah, my friend swimming by the pool is too," she answered. "SuA? How long have you known each other?" you asked her. "Nearly a decade, we even did a few collaborations together, and we can sing too" the woman answered.

"By the way, I didn't even ask your name yet," you told her. "I'm Seungyeon," she promptly answers you. "How did you get such a tanned body?" you asked her. "Let's say it's very sunny at the places I usually perform these days," she answered. "Wanna swim with me?" she then asked. "Sure," you told her.

You and Seungyeon headed towards the pool, where you two found SuA still swimming. Seungyeon laughed at her friend. "She's trying, but let's say she isn't the best swimmer out there," she said.

SuA emerged from the pool and headed in your direction. "I see you found my best friend," she told you. "We had some nice chatting about how bad of a swimmer you are," Seungyeon pranked SuA."

"Then teach me," SuA says as she tosses Seungyeon's hot body into the pool. "AHHHHH," Seungyeon screams, caught off guard. "You should check this bitch's Instagram, all she does is travel, twerking, and posting pics of herself in a bikini," SuA tells you. "Add us," she says, trading their contacts with you before you two drop your phones and join Seungyeon on the pool.

Seungyeon swims with ease, much better than SuA, but her best friend wants her to do something different. "Twerk that big booty for him like that time you did it with Kei," SuA says.

Seungyeon promptly obliges and starts shaking her ass to perfection. "Damn, she is really good at it," you tell SuA. "She can really dance to anything, you ought to be impressed," SuA says as Seungyeon turns around, giving you hand signals to come closer.

"Sit here, baby boy," Seungyeon tells you as she guides you to a shallower place at the pool. She teases you, throwing her ass closer to your face and bouncing it frantically, before sitting on your lap and start performing a hot grinding dance that gives you an instant boner as soon as her fat ass bumps against your shorts.

"Looks like he's enjoying it," Seungyeon says, noticing your erection rubbing against her clothed ass. "How about we add some boobs to the mix?" she asks, bringing SuA closer to her and pulling her bra to the side just enough for her nipples to pop out.

"Come on, baby boy, suck those nipples," Seungyeon tells you as she pushes SuA's tits right in your face. "What if someone sees us?" you asked her. "Don't worry, I always have everything under control, there are just the three of us at this hotel," Seungyeon says, reassuring you and showcasing her commanding leadership skills.

As you enjoy sucking SuA's perky tits, Seungyeon keeps teasing you, turning in your direction, facing you eye to eye as she grinded her ass faster and faster against your clothed cock while giving you some teases of her nipples by pulling her bikini as well. "Mine's are not as big as hers, but I got the ass to compensate," Seungyeon says. "And what a great ass she's got," SuA says, complimenting her best friend.

"Tell me how much you want to fuck this big fat ass, baby boy," Seungyeon asks you. "A lot, I want to take you two to my bedroom and fuck both of you right now," you told them. "Bedroom? That's for amateurs. Don't be silly, we are gonna fuck right by the side of this pool, with your bodies completely wet," Seungyeon said.

"Follow me," Seungyeon says as she keeps giving the instructions, carrying you and SuA alongside. Damn, that woman seems to have an endless appetite but you surely aren't complaining. "Oh my God, your bodies look so hot when wet," you tell both girls. SuA blushes and starts giggling. "You're damn right," Seungyeon says.

Seungyeon opens her bag on the side of the pool, unveiling a pair of pocket-sized sex toys. "A good whore always carries them everywhere she goes," she says. "Are you ready to take us, baby boy? We'll do anything you want," she continues. "Anything?" you ask her, still unsure. "Yes, anything," she confirms.

"I wonder if she can take the biggest one," Seungyeon says. "Well, let's find out" SuA answers, getting herself on all fours at the pool chair. "You know I love talking about my big ass, but Bora's got a nice one too," Seungyeon says, massaging her friend's butt with both hands.

"Just watch us, don't move until we say so," Seungyeon says as pulls the bottom of SuA's bikini down and starts licking her friend's asshole. "Can I lick it?" she asks to SuA. "Ahhhhhh," SuA softly moans as she finds Seungyeon's tongue in her anal folds. "I'll take it as a yes," Seungyeon says.

"Oh my God, she's so good with that tongue," SuA says, making Seungyeon giggle. The tanned girl picks up the speed, enjoying her best friend moaning as she works her tongue all over SuA's butthole. "Oh fuck, tongue that ass for me, ahhhh," SuA moans. "I love being a slut with you," Seungyeon tells her.

"Oh yeah, I love that fucking tongue buried in my little ass," SuA says as Seungyeon keeps up her good work, tonguing as fast as she was twerking. "Such a slutty tongue, ahhhh," SuA says while Seungyeon looks at you, rubbing her friend's pussy as well. "So good, you're making me so wet, oh my gosh," SuA says.

"RIGHT THERE, AHHHHH," SuA lets out her first scream as Seungyeon works both her fuckholes. "Give me that big fat fucking toy," SuA commands as Seungyeon grabs the blue toy. "You want the biggest one?" Seungyeon asks SuA. "Yes, I do, right up that fucking little asshole" SuA answers.

Seungyeon obliges and slowly shoves the sex toy up SuA's butthole. "Stretch me open," SuA begs her friend. "Oh fuck yeah," SuA moans as Seungyeon pushes it further. "I love the way you spread that ass," Seungyeon says as she keeps pumping the toy in and out of SuA's ass.

"This isn't even the biggest one," Seungyeon tells SuA. "Ohhh, so you're gonna stretch me some more? Warm up that ass for his big fat cock?" SuA asks. "Should I stretch her some more?" Seungyeon asks. "Do your thing," you answer.

Seungyeon puts the sex toy in her mouth, savoring SuA butthole as she starts putting an even larger one inside it. "Please, give me more," SuA begs. "Look at this tiny little ass stretching all over that toy," Seungyeon says. "OH MY GOD," SuA screams. "Come on, girl, if you can't take that in your ass, how are you gonna take his dick?" Seungyeon asks.

"Play with that toy in your asshole," Seungyeon says, spanking SuA's butt, then grabbing it and working it around her anus. "Look at that fucking ass getting spread open," SuA says as Seungyeon spits on it and touches her pussy. SuA then pulls it out of her ass and tastes herself.

"I want to play with your big fat ass," SuA asks Seungyeon, her friend quickly taking the bottom of her bikini off and shoving her naked butt in your face. "How hungry are you for this booty?" she asks you while letting SuA spread it open. "Should we wreck this fuckhole today?" SuA asks you, pointing at Seungyeon's backdoor.

"That ass is so pretty, isn't it?" SuA asks you as she spits on Seungyeon's butthole, tonguing it afterward. "So sweet," she says, moaning as she eats her friend's ass. "Ready for a toy up that fucking asshole?" SuA asks her. "Hell yeah," Seungyeon asks as SuA teases her before putting the toy up her ass.

"It's still so fucking tight in there even all those cocks that entered up that asshole, I wonder what's her secret," SuA says, struggling to fully fit the toy. "That's what I'm talking about, stretching that fucking hole," SuA says as she finally manages to get it all the way in.

"Let's get her warm for that big fucking cock." SuA continues as she rubs Seungyeon's pussy. "You're gonna show him your reputation as a big buttslut," SuA says. "Hmmm, I love playing with that big fat ass, so juicy" SuA keeps going.

You can't resist the teasing, taking your clothes off and jumping on top of the pool chair, your cock already hard and pointing at Seungyeon's face. "Oh fuck yeah, there is that big fat cock" SuA smiles, very excited as she sees that cock for the first time at its full prowess. You kneel on the chair, Seungyeon moving her head slightly down to take it in her mouth and starting a no-hands blowjob.

"Oh that's so fucking hot, I want to watch you suck that dick while I fuck you in the ass with this toy," SuA tells Seungyeon, her friend quickly gagging on your cock as you soon fuck her face. "Such a fucking whore getting stuffed from both sides," SuA says as she pulls the toy out of Seungyeon's ass.

You two put Seungyeon in the middle of an oral train, you pounding her face while SuA tongues her friend's brown anus. Seungyeon gags hard as she's pleased from both sides. "Get that fucking cock wet, are you gonna share it with me?" SuA asks Seungyeon as she already sees her friend drenched in saliva running down her chin. "Yes, come here," Seungyeon tells her.

SuA obliges and sucks your cock like crazy, bobbing her head hard from the get-go and grabbing your balls, while Seungyeon licks your shaft from the side. You're really impressed with their cock-sucking skills, as neither girl uses her hands to suck your cock.

"Make it as messy as you can," Seungyeon commands to SuA as she watches her deepthroat it and then spits on your cock. "Can I spit on it too?" Seungyeon asks. "Yes, make it as wet as possible, just like our bodies," SuA tells her, massaging your balls while Seungyeon bobs her head on your dick.

"That's our fucking cock today, we're gonna use it to the fullest," SuA says. The girls keep taking their turns giving you no-hands blowjobs. "So fucking sexy, take it all the way deep," Seungyeon says as SuA takes on it now. Both girls make very sloppy noises, their throats fully stuffed with your cock. "Such a hungry whore," SuA says when Seungyeon takes her turn.

Both girls turn your cock into a mess of spit. "I want to see all that spit over that fucking cock," SuA says. She's getting so horny she takes the top of Seungyeon's bikini off and starts sucking her friend's tits while Seungyeon chokes all over your cock and gets her face pounded.

Seungyeon takes on your cock like a champion, making sure it stays deep in her throat even as you destroy her face at full speed. SuA lines up behind you, licking your balls as they swing all over her face with your hard thrusts. "Throatfuck that whore," SuA commands as she licks the saliva running down Seungyeon's torso while massaging her best friend's pussy and enjoying your cock bulging in her neck.

"Look at the mess you made with her," SuA tells you as she kisses Seungyeon's cock filled mouth. Seungyeon tries to catch her breath after getting her face completely stuffed with cock for more than 5 minutes. She follows her older friend's lead, bending on the chair alongside SuA and then licking her ass a little more.

"I want this dick so bad, put it in my ass," SuA begs. Soon she gets what she wants, your cock sliding right up her butthole while Seungyeon watches. "Damn, that's such a big fucking dick," SuA moans as Seungyeon spits on it. "Let me get it nice and wet," Seungyeon says.

SuA takes your cock up her ass, spreading her cheeks as Seungyeon enjoys the view of her friend getting fucked. "That cock looks so nice stretching you out," she says. "How does it feel?" Seungyeon then asks. "It's amazing," SuA answers her. "You like being a good whore?" Seungyeon asks her. "Of course," SuA answers.

"Let me hold this for you," Seungyeon says as she spread SuA's asscheeks. "Ahhh, yeah, yeah, fucking use that asshole, oh my gosh" SuA begs as you keep thrusting. "Do you want him to use your ass or you to use his cock?" Seungyeon asks, bouncing SuA's butt against you.

"Use that fucking cock," Seungyeon says as she moves SuA's hips fast. "YES, YES, YES, YES," SuA screams as she's turned into an anal fleshlight. "Such a fucking whore," Seungyeon says.

"Give me that fucking cock," Seungyeon commands as you feed it into her throat, her getting it even sloppier than before, then spitting on SuA's anus just as your cock gets back inside it. "Your asshole is so pretty getting stretched out," Seungyeon tells her.

"Keep going, use me like a good whore, FUCK, FUCK" SuA stays begging. "BURY THAT FUCKING COCK IN MY ASS," SuA continues to beg. "Get in deep in there, she needs that cock all the way deep in her ass," Seungyeon tells you as you keep pumping SuA's butt.

You switch your cock between Seungyeon's face and SuA's ass, both girls enjoying the taste of it. "So fucking delicious," Seungyeon says, before diving into eating SuA's ass a bit more. "OH FUCK YEAH, FUCK YEAH, USE THAT TONGUE," SuA screams.

"I need to taste my ass," SuA tells Seungyeon, kissing her best friend's dirty mouth as both girls giggle. "Do want that cock inside you?" SuA asks her. "Yes, please," Seungyeon says. "I want to watch you fucking take it," SuA continues, moving to the side as you bend Seungyeon down and stick your cock up her big butt, SuA adding the needed spit.

"Look at that big fat butt getting so stretched out, I love watching you take a big cock up your ass, so fucking hot," SuA says. "Spread it wide open, give it to her, make her take that fucking dick up that asshole," SuA instructs you as your cock gets deeper and deeper inside Seungyeon's ass while she massages her pussy.

"You're so pretty getting stretched out, come on, take it nice and deep in her fucking ass, baby boy," SuA tells you as you grab Seungyeon's body to give her faster thrusts. "Use that fucking asshole, oh my goodness, look how wet she is," SuA says.

"FUCK THAT COCK FEELS SO AMAZING INSIDE ME," Seungyeon screams as you attack her butthole harder and harder. "So hot those balls clapping against that fat ass," SuA says as you feed her your cock for her to sloppily taste it. "Good girl, get that cock wet for my tight butthole," Seungyeon tells her as your cock switches freely between her ass and SuA's mouth.

"Give it to me," SuA says as your cock goes into her mouth. You play with their needy holes, before going back hard into Seungyeon's backdoor. "I NEED THAT FUCKING DICK, GIVE ME MORE," she begs as SuA spanks her ass. "Look at this whore, so needy," SuA says.

"OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, IT'S SO BIG INSIDE MY ASSHOLE, FUCKKK," Seungyeon screams louder than ever. "Pound it, baby boy," SuA commands to you. "GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME, HARDER, HARDER, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, AHHHHH" Seungyeon turns into a begging mess. You do as she pleases, taking your cock harder and harder in her ass. "LET'S GO, FUCK THAT FAT ASS," SuA instructs you. "OH FUCK, YES, YES, YES," Seungyeon screams loudly.

As you finish fucking Seungyeon, both girls dive hard to suck your cock, SuA arriving first and ready to savor her friend's dirty butthole, deepthroating your cock nonstop and licking the side of your shaft. Seungyeon follows suit, outdoing her best friend and taking your cock balls deep in her mouth. "Look at this whore, she wants every inch of it," SuA notices as Seungyeon spits on your cock.

"Look at those beautiful balls full of cum for us," Seungyeon says as she massages them while SuA deepthroats them. "We are gonna use this cock until there is nothing left" she continues. "Hell yeah, we're gonna milk it dry," SuA promises as she hands your cock to Seungyeon to take her turn sucking it, SuA jerking it off and kissing you while her friend bobs her head on it like a good slut.

Seungyeon spits hard on your cock. "I love the way you suck all that fucking spit," Seungyeon says, grabbing SuA's hair and shoving her face against your cock for another deepthroat. "Oh my goodness, I need to sit on this cock so bad," SuA says, moving on top of you and directing your cock back inside her anal hole. "Let me see it," Seungyeon says as her friend struggles to fit your thick cock in her tight anus.

"Let me get it slippery," Seungyeon says, rubbing some water from the pool in SuA's butt while her friend bounces on your cock. "I'm gonna get that ass all wet for you," Seungyeon says. SuA giggles, Seungyeon using her friend's bouncy butt as a pillow as she impales herself on your cock.

"I need all that fucking dick deep in my fucking ass," SuA moans, trying to get more and more of it inside her. "I love watching you sit on it," Seungyeon tells her, grabbing her ass and pushing it down your cock. "Look at this perfect ass bouncing all over that big fat cock," she says with a big smile on her face.

"I love the way you use that cock," Seungyeon tells SuA. "SPREAD IT OPEN, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE," SuA begs to her friend, Seungyeon spreading SuA's tight ass trying to ease the pressure of your thick cock up her butt. "Go faster, put him on the edge," Seungyeon commands as SuA picks up the speed even with your cock feeling at times too big for her ass.

"Perfect, those long strokes, that's what I like to see," Seungyeon tells SuA. "Use him, use that fucking cock, go, go, go," Seungyeon keeps pushing her. "OH YES, YES, YES, FUCK, FUCK," SuA starts screaming as your cock impales her deeper than ever. Seungyeon offers some relief, pulling your cock out for some butthole tasting.

"Put it back in there, please, just shove it back in there," SuA begs her friend as she is very needy for your cock. Seungyeon struggles to fit it, with SuA's tight hole and her wet butt proving to be a challenge. "It's so slippery in there," she says. You give her a helping hand, allowing SuA to squat on your cock. "Look at that beautiful ass riding that fat cock," Seungyeon says, enjoying watching her best friend.

"How does that fucking feel?" Seungyeon asks SuA as she bends her body down and pushes harder than ever to bounce on your cock. "So good," SuA answers "Such a nice fucking ass going up and down that cock," she says, making it stop a bit to taste your cock. "Back inside," she says, handing it back to you to fuck SuA a little more.

Seungyeon massages your balls down low while kissing SuA's ass up top. "OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," SuA moans until you're finally done fucking her ass. "Let me taste it," she tells Seungyeon, wrestling your cock from her to suck it under her friend's watch, the two of them sharing more dirty kisses.

"My turn to sit on it," Seungyeon says. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, just jam it in there," SuA tells her. As soon as your cock finds her butthole, Seyngyeon activates her twerking mode. "Oh my God, such a fucking baddie," SuA says, spreading her cheeks open and missing a shot of spit with the speed Seungyeon bounces on your cock.

"Such a twerking slut, so fucking hot," SuA says as Seungyeon bounces her ass hard on your cock, giving you no time to breathe with her insane twerking. "Bounce all over that fucking dick, that's your fucking cock right now" SuA commands. "OHHHH FUCKKKK," Seungyeon moans as she twerks even harder.

"YES IT'S MY FUCKING COCK TO USE WHATEVER I WANT IT," Seungyeon screams. Her twerking and SuA's soft massage on your balls push you to the fullest. "OH MY GOD, FUCK YEAH," Seungyeon is very pleased as your cock impales her deeper and deeper in that butthole. SuA makes things even harder, jerking your cock off while Seungyeon bounces fast on it.

"OH YES, YES, YES, YES," Seungyeon screams as she is on the verge of cumming. "USE IT, USE IT, USE IT," SuA pushes her harder, spanking Seungyeon's big butt. "OH MY GOD, IT'S HITTING ME SO DEEP," she keeps screaming. "Don't stop, use that fucking toy, that's your toy," SuA tells her as Seungyeon keeps twerking.

"I want to taste it, right from that fucking ass," SuA says as she pulls your cock out of Seungyeon's butt, jerking it off hard and making it even wetter. "Oh yeah, lick it all," Seungyeon tells her. "Lemme just teases it," SuA says, rubbing your tip against the entrance of Seungyeon's rectum.

"Oh, that cock feels so good in my ass," Seungyeon moans as she resumes twerking. SuA smiles, her hands all over your balls as she enjoys her friend being a cockslut, spreading her ass while Seungyeon rides. "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD," Seungyeon moans. "BOUNCE, BOUNCE, FUCKING BOUNCE ON IT," SuA orders her friend, giving her fat ass more and more spanks.

"Such a good cock to take up that fucking ass, isn't it? The perfect dick to take up the ass" SuA asks Seungyeon. "Keep moving that fat ass, bounce on that dick like a good fucking whore," SuA continues to push. "I'M GONNA CUM," Seungyeon announces. "YES, CUM ALL OVER THAT BIG FAT COCK, YOU FUCKING WHORE," SuA tells her.

Seungyeon squirts all over your body as she collapses into orgasm. SuA immediately takes your cock to taste it. "Give it to me," she says. "I love watching you taste my ass off his cock," Seungyeon tells her, but SuA barely listens, hyperfocused on giving you the best blowjob.

SuA lies sideways on the chair as you get up from it. "Slide that cock back in my ass again, please," she commands. Seungyeon is right there, resting her face on her friend's butt and kissing it. "Oh my Gosh, yeah, fuck, it goes so deep in there, ahhhhh" SuA moans as you go back to pump her ass. "Let me spread it open," Seungyeon says as she worships her friend's butt.

"I love watching you take every inch," Seungyeon tells her. "And I love watching you spread it wide," SuA replies. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SPREAD ME, IT'S SO GOOD, DEEP IN THAT FUCKING ASS," she screams. "I love the way you thrust deep into my friend's ass, makes her look like such a good buttwhore," Seungyeon tells you.

"Bora you're such a good buttwhore, so good at using cocks," Seungyeon keeps saying to SuA. "Is that what you like, cum all over his cock like a good buttwhore?" Seungyeon keeps asking. "AHHH, AHHHH, HARDER, HARDER, PLEASE," SuA begs as you attack your asshole. "Let's go, I wanna feel your body cum, please," Seungyeon tells her.

"OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH YEAH," SuA moans hard. Seungyeon rubs her cunt, getting her closer and closer to cum. "RUB MY PUSSY LIKE THAT, MAKE ME CUM, I LOVE THE WAY YOU GUYS ARE USING ME RIGHT NOW," SuA says. "Are we using you or are you using us?" Seungyeon asks, increasing the speed of her massage on SuA's clit.

"Oh my god that is so hot," SuA says as you pull out of her ass and stick your cock right in Seungyeon's slutty mouth, leaving a huge gape behind. "Feed her that fucking dick all the way down that fucking throat, now put it back in my ass, fuck yeah," SuA says as you drill her butt harder than ever. "All the needs right now is getting fucked in the ass, getting railed up that butthole," Seungyeon says, pushing SuA's body against your cock

"THAT FEELS SO GOOD, FUCK, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM, OH MY GOD," SuA screams as she starts squirting, giving you the perfect opportunity to give your cock once again to Seungyeon. "Fuck me and feed her," SuA commands as Seunhgyeon bobs her head on your cock.

You push Seungyeon towards a stool, making her lie on it with her fat ass as she spreads her legs wide open. SuA quickly comes in and licks her friend's asshole. "Oh yeah," Seungyeon says, very pleased.

"Give it to her," SuA tells you as she steps aside, guiding your cock back into Seungyeon's butt. "Oh my gosh," Seungyeon moans. "So beautiful getting fucked in the ass, the perfect fuckhole for his big fat cock," SuA says. "Ahhh, I love being a little fuckhole," Seungyeon moans while SuA rubs her clit.

"I love seeing your face right next to my ass," a needy Seungyeon tells SuA. "How about my face tasting that big cock right from your fat ass?" SuA asks, grabbing your shaft and putting it in her mouth one more time. "Even better," Seungyeon answers.

"Put it back in, I need more, this cock is so wet," Seungyeon says. "I love tasting all those juices from her dirty fucking ass, fuck her and feed me, baby boy," SuA orders to you. "OHHHH YESSSS," Seungyeon screams, very excited.

You keep taking turns between Seungyeon's butt and SuA's mouth. "That's so nasty, I love how nasty this is, such a dirty slut tasting that fucking cock right from my fucking ass," Seungyeon says, rubbing her clit now. "Oh my God look at this fucking cock drilling this pretty ass," SuA says, enjoying the view.

"OH THAT COCK FEELS SO AMAZING," Seungyeon screams as you attack her ass deep. "Such a pretty pussy too, pity we won't use it today," SuA says. "OH FUCK IT'S SO INTENSE AND DEEP," Seungyeon says, SuA smiling as her best friend turns into nothing but your cocksleeve. "Don't you love taking every inch of this dick up your fucking ass," SuA asks her.

"I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, YES, YES, YES," Seungyeon answers as you pound her ass into oblivion. "Such an amazing feeling that cock deep in there, OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, AHHHH," Seungyeon says, almost losing her breath. But SuA keeps pushing, kissing her friend's ass, and rubbing her pussy while she gets anally pounded.

"OH MY SO FUCKING TURNED ON RIGHT NOW, HOLY SHIT, I WANNA FEEL THAT COCK IN MY ASS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, I LOVE IT SO MUCH," Seungyeon moans as a loud helicopter flies over the hotel, but she makes such a hella noise you can still hear her moans loud and clear.

"My turn to sit on that stool," SuA says as she does the same as her friend, Seungyeon happily spreading her ass for your cock to enter next. "Fuck, it's so good," SuA moans. "Should I taste that asshole?" Seungyeon asks. "Yes," SuA answers as you give your cock for her friend to get it wet. "Such pretty dick-sucking lips all over that cock," SuA says.

"AHHHH YEAHHHHH," SuA is very excited as you pound her ass. Seungyeon spits on your cock as you keep drilling her friend's ass. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, HMMMM," SuA moans. "Let me taste it again," Seungyeon begs as you take turns between her mouth and SuA's ass. "That's so hot," SuA says.

"SPREAD IT, SPREAD IT, OH MY GOD, RIGHT THERE," SuA screams as Seungyeon lines up behind her, watching her friend take your big fat cock in her ass. "AHHH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," SuA moans, losing her breath as Seungyeon fingers her clit. "OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she keeps moaning.

"Give it to her, give her that fucking cock," Seungyeon commands to you as she increases the speed of fingering SuA's clit. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," SuA moans loudly. "See how much she loves being used and stretched out, moaning like a good whore," Seungyeon says."Look at that ass spread wide open with that big fat cock," Seungyeon says. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," SuA screams loudly as you rearrange her guts with hard and fast thrusts.

"It's getting hot in here, let's get back to the pool," Seungyeon orders as you lie on the shallow part of it and let both girls suck your cock a little bit more. "Such a nasty girl tasting my dirty ass," SuA says to Seungyeon.

"Let me fuck that ass one more time," you tell Seungyeon, putting her body sideways and pounding her ass. "OH FUCK YES," she moans as you start drilling her butt, SuA lying to the side of her and watching your thrusts make loud noises in the water. "OH YES, YES, YES," Seungyeon moans. You fuck SuA's throat a bit, before going back to pounding the tanned girl's anus.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, OH YEAH," Seungyeon is nothing but a moaning mess. "Put your ass in her face," you order to SuA, who sits right on Seungyeon's head, her young friend clinging to eat her pussy as you pound her harder and harder. "OH YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans under SuA'S cunt.

"FUCK, YES, YES, YES, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, FUCK, FUCK, HARDER, HARDER," Seungyeon begs as you turn her into an anal whore, making waves in the pool as you pound her butt. "GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING CUM, PLEASE, PLEASE," she loudly begs.

"You want my cum, you fucking slut?" you ask Seungyeon. "Yes, give me all your cum," she begs. You soon pull out of her asshole and coat her big butt with your seeds, painting it white, SuA quickly comes in and licks Seungyeon's ass, taking all that cum into her mouth.

"Save it, don't swallow," Seungyeon orders to SuA, getting back up as the two girls swap your cock, laughing and giggling. "Wow, that was so intense," Seungyeon says.

"Right, let's celebrate it," SuA says as she tosses your body in the pool. You three spend a few more minutes swimming naked, before heading into your bedrooms and getting yourselves dry.

On the next day, you started walking across the hotel, ready to go to the beach, until you found SuA and Seungyeon dancing at the gym.

"Where are you going today?" Seungyeon asks you. "To the beach," you tell them. "Well, how about you fuck us again first?" SuA asks. "Come here, baby boy, let her sit that fat ass on your face while I ride your cock," SuA continues, ready for another fuck session.

The beach can wait.

This fic wasn't initially planned. However, after seeing SuA posting those bikini pics, I had a massive urge to write about her. Knowing she had collabed with Seungyeon in the past, their friendship and that Seungyeon also had a vacation in Vietnam last year (where she took the bikini selfie in this story), plus the fact I wanted to write about her since last year but never commited to it, I finally decided to pull the trigger and added her to the mix as well. Plus it gave me the perfect excuse to post their hot bikini pics.

Hope you guys enjoy this all-anal debauchery by the pool. Probably one of the smuts I had the most fun writing.

[wormkink]

‼️ $682 / $20,000 ‼️

THIS CAMPAIGN IS DANGEROUSLY LOW ON FUNDS.

Please do not ignore this campaign. Engage with this post, leave a comment, create your own addition, tag your friends & mutuals, & if you can, please donate.

Hammad’s father has a critical heart condition and because of that, he badly needs treatment for it — the heart is the most vital organ; this treatment cannot wait.

On top of that, the tent that Hammad and his family have been living in for over 500 days was destroyed from the harsh weather and flooding.

Hammad is a deeply kind, gracious, incredibly smart and hard working person. He has done everything and more to provide for his family throughout this ongoing genocide as he watches his father sink deeper and deeper into sickness. He has lived through things none of us can fathom, seeing death and despair that no one should endure. We have the power to create a difference, to get his father the treatment that he needs to live a long and healthy life, and I cannot bear to think about him losing another person in his life, let alone his own father.

There have been countless horrors that we have all bore witness to through our screens during this genocide, and I’m sure that, like me, many of you have felt helpless against the massive empirical core that we live in; unsure of how to help and what impact it will even make. This campaign gives all of us an integral mode of helping Hammad and his family survive, and the impact is unfathomable.

Palestinians still needs our support, our love, and our solidarity.

3% of goal has been met! Will you help us to get to 5% of our goal?

You Can Help Hammad Save His Family🍉‼️🫶🏻

VETTED BY ASSOCIATION; Hammad was referred to me through Safaa and her campaign (vetted by 90-ghost)

This campaign is created on behalf of a very valuable and dear friend of mine, Hammad A., who is dealing with devastating tragedy and loss that none of us in the empirical core could possibly begin to imagine.

Hammad is one of the most thoughtful, considerate, and hard-working people I know -- and while he has tried his best to provide for his family under these immensely difficult circumstances, he now needs our help to keep him and his family alive.

Picture this: Your life has been turned upside down instantly; everything you have worked your whole life for -- gone in an instant. Everything you once knew turned to rubble and destruction. Your home, where you grew up and created childhood memories with -- gone. Your job, where you dedicated your energy and effort into building a career you loved -- gone. The most basic necessities we take for granted -- warmth, fresh air, the ability to move around freely and safely -- ripped away from you.

These are only a few of the difficulties that Hammad and his family have been facing for over 464 days. 

As you understand by now, there is only so much resilience the human body can endure, and the urgent need to do anything you can to save your family is the exact reason Hammad has allowed us the opportunity to help him and his family be freed from the immense suffering and stress they currently face.

His tent was recently flooded, damaging the little items that he had after losing everything, and destroying the little shelter he and his family had to protect them against the harsh elements.

Hammad needs your help NOW.

Even the smallest amount is so highly valuable in lifting a margin of stress from the weight of this tragedy off the shoulders of Hammad and his family. Your contributions to these lifesaving funds are invaluable. 

Chuffed has a waiting period for processing and transferring funds. If you want your donation to IMMEDIATELY be sent to Hammad, paypal is linked below.

[rafedarling]

Can you write a moment of an interview with Jimmy Kimmel asks Drew one or two questions about his relationship since him and actress!y/n have confirmed that they are together on an instagram post (that they are currently this year in a relationship according to the rumor of Internet users and media) and Drew mentions actress!y/n abt how she's amazing, that he will love to work with her one day :)

since i already wrote one for drew at jimmy, i think i should put them both on the norton show. hope you like it!

𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: you and drew are invited to the graham norton show to promote your upcoming movie, set to release in april. however, the interview isn’t just about your movie, it also touches on your recently confirmed relationship, sending the audience into a frenzy.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, playful teasing, past pining, and drew being the sweetest boyfriend ever.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

marie’s note: i just opened my wattpad account! from now on, you can read my fanfics on both tumblr and wattpad. however, i can’t guarantee that i’ll be very active on wattpad. a little update on my upcoming work, i’m currently working on the return of superman mini-series!

Graham grinned, waiting for the applause to settle before dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pretending to catch his breath.

“Let me sit down first because I simply cannot stand here and do an interview with such a powerful couple.”

The audience laughed, and you shook your head in amusement. Drew leaned back, his arm resting casually behind you on the couch, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” Graham continued, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Not only are you both co-stars in your new movie, but also lovers off-screen. Is it true?”

The crowd went wild again.

Drew chuckled, shaking his head at the dramatic reaction.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his Southern drawl making the words sound even more charming.

“We are lovers off-screen.”

Graham leaned forward, clearly loving every second of it.

“Since you’ve already confirmed it on Instagram, let’s dive in a little. How did this all start? Y/N, do you want to take this one?”

“Sure,” you said with a smile.

“I actually met Drew through his sister, Brooke. I was in her friend group, and she invited me over to her new place once. That was the first time we met.”

Drew nodded.

“Yeah, Y/N was one of my sister’s friends, but after that, she kind of disappeared. We didn’t see each other again for a long time, maybe a year or so.”

“Ah, so was there an instant connection? Or did it take a little while to realize, ‘Oh, that’s the person I want to know more about’?”

Graham asked, clearly invested.

Drew turned to you with a teasing smirk.

“If we’re talking about our first meeting… I didn’t have feelings for her then.”

The audience gasped dramatically, and you burst into laughter.

“Hold on, hold on before you boo me!”

Drew added quickly, grinning.

“At the time, I was crushing on someone else. But when I met Y/N again later, it hit me hard. Like — why hadn’t I asked her out before? What was I doing?”

Graham gasped, clutching his chest for comedic effect.

“Scandalous!”

“I know, right?” you joked.

“Plot twist, I actually liked him from the very beginning.”

Drew’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide.

“Wait, what?”

Graham looked like he had just struck gold.

“Oh, this is juicy. Tell us more!”

You chuckled, shrugging.

“Yeah, I had feelings for him when we first met, but I knew he had a crush on someone else, so I just… kept quiet about it. I liked him so much that I couldn’t even date other guys.”

Graham covered his face, laughing so hard he had to lean back in his chair. The audience reacted with a mix of cheers and sympathetic awws.

“Wait, wait, wait… hold on,”

Drew said, pointing at you in shock.

“You never told me this!”

“I know,” you said, giggling.

“I guess I thought it was silly.”

“Silly?” Drew looked at Graham, then back at you.

“Babe, I feel like I need to apologize to past you.”

Graham wiped away imaginary tears.

“Oh, this is the kind of romantic drama I live for!”

Drew shook his head, smiling.

“I can’t believe you were out there suffering in silence while I was being an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” you teased. “You figured it out eventually.”

The audience burst into applause, and Graham clapped his hands together.

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say, thank goodness you did! Now, Drew, if given the chance, would you want to work on-screen with Y/N again?”

Drew didn’t hesitate.

“Oh, absolutely. She’s amazing; such a talented actress. I’d love to work with her again.”

You turned to him, surprised and touched by his words.

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said softly.

“I mean, I get to see how incredible you are off-screen, so getting to experience that on-screen again? That’d be a dream.”

The audience erupted into cheers again, and Graham dramatically fanned himself.

“Well, if you two ever do another movie together, let’s hope it’s a rom-com, because this kind of chemistry needs to be on display!”

Drew laughed, slipping his hand into yours.

“We’ll see what happens.”

Graham then leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“And Drew, since we’re on the topic, what has it been like dating Y/N? Fans are dying to know how you feel about it.”

Drew’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, and for a moment, he looked at you instead of Graham. The teasing smile softened into something more sincere.

“It’s honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he admitted.

The audience collectively sighed in adoration.

“I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Y/N is just… she’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who balances me out the way she does. She’s the most patient, kind, and ridiculously talented person I know.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, heat creeping up your cheeks.

Graham pretended to wipe away tears.

“Oh, this is too sweet. Keep going!”

Drew laughed but continued.

“She makes everything feel easier. My life gets pretty crazy, you know? Between filming, traveling, press there’s a lot going on. But with her, it’s like… I always have this anchor. Someone who keeps me grounded. And the best part? She never tries to change me. She just lets me be me.”

The audience let out a chorus of “Aww!” and you squeezed his hand, feeling overwhelmed by how openly he was speaking.

“Okay, this is getting too romantic for me,”

Graham joked, fanning himself.

“I feel like we’re intruding on a private moment!”

Drew chuckled, looking back at you with a grin.

“Well, you asked, man.”

Graham shook his head playfully.

“I did, and I’m so glad I did! You two are adorable.”

The interview wrapped up soon after, but that moment the way Drew looked at you, the way his words made your heart feel like it might burst, was already making waves across the internet. Fans were calling you the Hollywood couple of the year. And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 8

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Miscarriage scare

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Why did you feel this way? What happened?

The light filtering through the curtains, touching your face but you don’t open your eyes.

You still feel like everything had been a dream.

**

“Please don’t let me lose you, you’re all I have left of Caleb. Please baby, just stay with me!”

You frantically shut the camera off, the video automatically sending in the message thread you had open. Paying it no mind as you scrambled through your contacts to call your OB’s emergency line.

As it rings, you start picking the skin off your lips, the pain grounding you as you what for your doctor to pick up.

“Please, please, please… Oh yes! I’m having some bleeding and it looks like it’s quite a bit. What do I do?!”

Your mind spirals as your OB’s kind but firm voice tells you what to do.

“You need to head to the nearest hospital, I’ll meet you there. They’ll check you out to see what’s going on.”

“I’m in Skyhaven right now.”

“Ok, I won’t be able to make it until tomorrow but I’ll send your primary care physician ahead since he’ll most likely will be able to get there before me.”

Zayne.

Oh good, a familiar face will help ground you.

Heading outside, grabbing a bag and throwing a few essentials in. Leaving a small trail of red drops of blood behind you on the floor.

You’d worry about cleaning that later.

Sitting on the shuttle, your poor lips are torn to shreds as you worry over what could’ve happened.

Had your anxiety worked your mental state to such a bad place that it was affecting the baby?

You laid a hand over your belly, a little rolling sensation makes you feel a bit better. They’re still alive but something was wrong.

Closing your eyes, you made a promise to your little bean, I promise to visit a therapist just stay with me ok?

Reaching the stop for Willow Medical Center, you exit and head for the doors leading to the main lobby for the Emergency Department.

Your legs shaking, you hadn’t even bothered to clean up the blood off your legs due to shock. Everybody was staring at you with concern, a small trail of blood leading behind you.

“Hello, could I get some help?” You stutter this out, now shaking uncontrollably.

Your vision starts to go a bit white as you falter, falling a bit to land your hands on the reception desk.

They grab you and bring you back in a wheelchair all while trying to ask you questions.

“I’m pregnant, I’m bleeding.” You’re so scared that all you can do is hand them your id and medical card from your purse as you start to panic.

The nurses help you into a bed, still asking questions, something about how far along you are?

They manage to pull up your chart, now asking you when the bleeding started.

You start to dissociate, what would you do if you lost your baby?

It’s all you have left from Caleb.

Maybe, maybe if your baby has to go to heaven to be with their daddy. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you went too.

“She’s currently 19 weeks along, I’m her primary care doctor. I’m here because she has a heart condition that has to be monitored during pregnancy.”

Oh, you knew that voice. That voice was safe.

“Dr. Zayne?”

“I’m here.”

“What happened?”

“They’re currently looking at the scans but it’s looking like it’s a slight placental abruption.”

“What… what is that?”

“It’s when the placenta pulls away a bit from the uterine wall, it looks like it’s small but you are losing blood so it can turn serious if we aren’t quick to fix it.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing, we’ll take you into surgery and all you have to do is rest.”

“Will my baby be okay?”

“They should be fine as long as we fix this.”

“Good, that’s good.” The worry melted off of you and your body’s burden lessened, you drifted off trusting Zayne to take care of it.

**

If it was morning now, that meant that you had been here the whole night. Was the surgery done? Was your baby ok?

Stretching your legs out a bit, you sighed and moaned a bit from the stiffness and the slight pain in your stomach.

There was a comforting pressure on your stomach, how nice.

Sleepily opening your eyes, you blinked a few times as the world came back into view.

Caleb sat in a wheelchair next to you, fast asleep, bent over the side of the bed with his hand resting over your stomach.

Smiling, you took in the sight.

Sometimes your brain was nice enough to give you such realistic images outside of dreams, it was like Caleb was really here.

Even his hand on your stomach felt so real, like he had descended from heaven just to check on his baby himself.

Caleb looked so real that you couldn’t help but reach out and touch his hair.

The softness that met your hand made you freeze in disbelief. Combing your fingers through the strands just to make sure.

This was too real to be a hallucination.

The figment stirred under your hand, sighing softly as he rose up to blink blearily at you.

That’s when you notice the dark circles under his eyes, so dark that they look like two black eyes.

His face is thin and drawn.

Lips cracked, his hair dried in weird directions after being heavily laden with sweat.

His eyes now trained on you, the purple of his eyes still bright and happy despite how he appears physically.

“You’re awake.” The figment speaks.

You’re stunned, how was this possible, was he really here?

You reach out again and lightly trace his cheek.

Caleb nuzzles into your hand, his own free one coming to lay over yours. His other hand is still cradling your belly.

“It’s me, I’m back.”

The familiar words make you cry, he had beaten the odds and come home to you once more.

“Hey don’t cry squeaks.”

This just makes you cry more and he struggles to get up but he slides into the bed with you.

Cradling you against his chest so reverently that it’s like he views you as a precious piece of art.

Thumping your fist against his chest, not really wanting to hurt him but you were so sad and angry all at the same time.

“How could you come back and say that stupid lame line again?”

He chuckles a bit brokenly before pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Caleb’s thumb swiping soothing circles against your belly.

“It’s such a good line though.”

“I thought you were dead again. How could you do that to me?”

“I’m sorry baby. I never meant to, our ship was sabotaged and we were being sucked into a black hole.”

Your hands grasped at his matching hospital gown, pulling him to you, letting him know with your body language that you weren’t letting him go ever again.

“I used my evol to get us loose but our communications were down and I ended up working so hard that I blacked out. I woke up here and I found you as soon as I could.”

“I’m just so happy you’re here but also mad.”

“Yeah I get that. I was a bit of a dumbass before I left.”

“A bit?” He laughs

“Okay maybe a lot of a dumbass….” He pauses “I saw all the messages and videos you sent.”

All of the things you sent, you feel a bit embarrassed and worried at his reaction to some of the things you sent not knowing he’d see them.

“All of them huh, so you know I’m pregnant?”

“Yes.” He cradles you close, rubbing your belly. “I’m so happy.”

You pause and try to move but his arms are too tight around you.

“The baby! I haven’t heard if they’re okay or not!”

“The baby’s fine, they were able to fix the tear in your placenta.”

You go limp with relief before looking at him with suspicion

“How do you know that?”

He avoids your gaze before slowly saying

“I may have looked at your chart to make sure you were okay.”

“Same old Caleb, always nosing into things.”

“I thought you had said you didn’t recognize me anymore.”

“No, after thinking about it. I realized that you were right, you were always like this but you just kept it more lowkey before you died the first time.”

“Hey! I never meant to die either of those times!”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’ve grieved both of those deaths now.”

Caleb runs a hand down his face before laughing

“You’re going to hold those deaths over my head for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”

“Oh you’re never getting out of it.”

“As long as you’re still by my side, I don’t mind.”

Your argument before he had left those months ago, weighs heavy in your mind now. He almost seems to read your thoughts because he asks

“Marry me?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me? I can’t let a guy like Zayne get ahead of me like that.”

Oh right, you had told him in that video before.

“I never even had the chance to be your girlfriend.”

“Will you be my girlfriend so we can get married later?” This boy.

“Ha! Okay Caleb, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Caleb fist pumped in celebration and you laughed happily together.

You sat there cuddling each other happily, content to not even move.

There were a lot of things that still needed to be discussed, things that Caleb knew he had to take care of and tell you about.

For now though, you just wanted to be in each other’s company.

“So where’s my welcome home kiss?”

“I don’t know if you deserve one?” Caleb pouts, shooting you those puppy dog eyes that you can’t resist.

“Please? I worked so hard to get back to you.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s true, so you lean forward and kiss him. Your lips both a bit dry but the feeling loosens something in your chest.

Tears stream down both of your faces

“I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Me too.” He looks down at your belly, awed at the sight, wiping your face free of tears.

“I still can’t believe that I’m going to be a dad.”

“ I can, I’ve been living through this one making me sick at every moment.”

“I’ll be here to help you now.”

“I know. I missed you but I’m not so sure I missed mama Caleb. No locking me up or I’ll lock you up after shooting my way out.”

“At least I’ll have some experience in taking care of someone to help me along.”

“No avoiding this Caleb, I mean it, no locking me up anymore. We talk about things and deal with things together. That’s what this relationship means.”

“I know.” Caleb sighs before soldiering on “It’s not just about us anymore though, we have this little one to worry about too. Don’t worry though, I’m going to tell you everything after we get out of the hospital ok?”

“You had better or I’ll be serious on my threat, I’ll lock you up and see how you like it.”

“Sounds kinky.”

“You know what I meant, jerk.”

A nurse comes in, not fazed by seeing Caleb also in bed.

“Good morning, your doctor will be in shortly, I’m just here to take some blood and see if you need anything. Your vitals are looking good. Your little one is doing just fine too”

You sign, relieved at this before saying

“We could use some water, please.”

“Absolutely, just let me grab these labs and I’ll be back with that.”

She takes your blood without an issue before leaving the room.

The OB from your regular medical center comes in right after.

“Oh! Hello! I wasn’t expecting to see another person in here! Good morning, how are we feeling?”

“Relieved, they said my baby looks fine.” The OB brings up your vital set, looking at it as she gestures to examine your belly.

“Looks like the surgery worked well, I’m not feeling anything worrying so that’s good. You should be able to leave either tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Thank you for coming out here.”

The OB waves her hand, shooing that thought away

“Oh no trouble at all, you’re my patient after all. How are you doing mentally?”

“Much better actually, turns out my boyfriend wasn’t dead after all. So we’re feeling good.”

Caleb waves, having stayed silent this whole time just listening.

“Hello boyfriend! I’m so happy for you. Sounds like quite a story, I’d love to hear it sometime. Hopefully this will help your pregnancy progress much smoother! Oh remember that you have an anatomy scan in 3 days, so don’t forget to make it and I hope to see you again boyfriend!”

The OB leaves, leaving a cheery air in her wake.

“Boyfriend hmm? Already so eager to shake a claim on me?”

“You made me wait so many months to get to this point so you can shut up.”

“Alright alright! It just made me happy to hear you call me that.”

You poke his chest indignantly

“Well get used to it, you’re never getting rid of me.”

“Good. Whatever you say mama.”

You squeak a bit before tickling him in retaliation.

The morning began on a bright and hopeful note.

The issues that Caleb needed to deal with and tell you about still lingering on the horizon. The thought of what Ever could do if they found out about your baby.

They could wait until tomorrow.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08

@xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @violetpurplez @raiyuxa @nickibunny23 @sh3sa1dwhat @playboygeniusphilanthropist @flwerie @lynnlovesthestars @twilightsmissingfur @kasuumi @i-messed-up-big-time @mcdepressed290 @mc-cos-charm

[harrywavycurly]

Handle With Care: What Have You Heard?

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, one tiny moment of anger/jealousy, mentions of how your ex treated you and so much fluff it might make you sick😂

A/N: I left this open to revisit these two weirdos because I have truly loved writing them. Thanks for allowing me to take a stab at frat Harry! This has been a very fun mini series and I’m glad y’all enjoyed it! I hope you’re happy with their ending✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @namoreno @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @triski73

Summary: Harry is determined to get you to like him while you are more worried about the fact he hasn’t kissed you yet✨📦

It’s only been a little over twenty four hours since you asked Harry to leave your apartment and it’s as if all of a sudden the universe doesn’t want you to have the chance to forget about him. You’ve seen him everywhere possible in the apartment complex the two of you live in, the first time was in the elevator which is understandable since you live two floors under him. You were bound to see him on his way down to the lobby or the gym, but you just weren’t expecting it to happen so soon and what you really weren’t expecting was for him to look so distraught when his eyes met yours. The look on his face was as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but he had to hold himself back resulting in an almost painful looking smile making you just look away and down at your feet as the two of you endured a silent ride down to the parking lot.

The second time you saw him was at the gym that same evening, and the embarrassing thing about this moment was the fact you weren’t even there to work out. You just finally had a chance to go take a look at it, figuring that maybe one day you’ll want to use it so it would be nice to be sorta familiar with the space and he just so happened to be there running on a treadmill that was facing the door. It was as if he could just sense you had entered the room because he looked up and immediately you felt a flush cover your face because he was extremely shirtless allowing you to see every inked inch of his torso including the butterfly on his stomach and then there were his arm, his very well defined arms. You know he saw you because his eyes lit up and a small smile formed on his face while you tried to figure out how to leave the space as quickly as possible without making it seem like he was the reason you were leaving in such a hurry.

Now it’s been a full two days and you have managed to run into him in the mailroom. You silently curse your amazon addiction because of course Harry is also down here getting his package since they got delivered by the same delivery person. But unlike the other times he’s seen you Harry decides that this time the two of you should talk because clearly the two of you aren’t going to be able to avoid each other as easily as you thought while living in the same complex.

“I’m sorry.” The moment the words leave his mouth you find yourself freezing in your spot by the shelf that has your box on it. “I shouldn’t have assumed some flowers and a box of plates was going to be enough get you to forgive me and want to ride off into the sunset together.” He lets out a sigh as he basically talks to your back since you don’t make any moves to turn around and look at him.

“I do forgive you Harry.” You tell him as you turn so you can face him, keeping your eyes on the floor. “It just doesn’t change how you acted and-and that’s why I’m not riding off into the sunset with you.” When you finally look at him he just nods his head because he knows he can’t change how he acted towards you, he can only show you how it’s not how he normally acts.

“I just want you to get to know me. Because that’s the only way you’ll understand that I’m not full of shit when I say I’m usually not like that.” Harry really doesn’t care how desperate he sounds because honestly that’s exactly how he feels.

He knows he should give you all the space and time possible for you to be the one to want to get to know him but he just can’t risk that never happening. Something inside of him knows the two of you aren’t meant to never speak again, he knows there’s something there and he’s not going to give up on it even if it means begging you to give him another chance.

“Maybe we can go have coffee or something simple like that? It doesn’t have to be anything besides two people getting to know each other.”

“I uh don’t know Harry I’m-I’m sorry I have to go.” You look away from him so you don’t have to see the utter disappointment on his face as you turn and grab your box off the shelf before you walk out of the mailroom door.

“Smooth Harry real fucking smooth.” Harry mumbles to himself as he runs a hand through his hair before he grabs his packages and leaves the mailroom, making sure to use the stairs so he doesn’t end up making you feel uncomfortable by sharing an elevator with him.

When you get back to your apartment you do the only thing you can think to do in this situation. You reach out to Niall who shockingly also happens to be in your complex, at least for the evening. So with a promise from him to stop by in the morning on his way out you begin to relax a little. You know that Niall will help you come to a decision about what to do about Harry because he’s known him for years so if anyone can shed light on how Harry really is it’ll be his bestfriend, Niall Horan.

Niall tries not to look at you like you’re crazy as you stand in the middle of your kitchen holding your mug of coffee while you tell him everything that happened when you saw Harry a few days ago. He nods along to your story as he leans against your counter with his arms crossed over his chest, giving you his full attention as you tell him one of the oddest stories he’s heard in a while because he’s not sure he’s ever experienced anything like the tingling and warming sensation you’re describing all because Harry touched you. But this isn’t the first time he’s heard about the odd zap like feeling because Harry described something very similar happening to him whenever you touched him so he knows it has to mean something he’s just not sure what exactly.

“Okay so he was an asshole to you because he likes you so much? That’s what he said?” Niall asks making you just nod your head before taking a sip of your coffee. “So you’ve somehow made the wires in that small little brain of his all crisscrossed makin’ him act like a right jackass.”

“I just don’t think that’s a good excuse for how he acted.” You argue as you walk over and place your mug in the sink. “I don’t want to let someone who can be mean like that into my life again.” You explain as you look down at your slippers, not wanting to see the sad and sympathetic look Niall is going to give you because it’s one you’re used to getting once people realize who your ex is because he isn’t known for being the nicest or the most caring.

“Now I know Harry was a bit of a twat but trust me love I’d never suggest the two of you get to know each other more if I thought for a second he was anything like that actual wanker of an ex of yours.” Niall says in hopes it’ll reassure you that Harry isn’t as bad as he made you think he was, he just had some issues going on that he couldn’t get control of such as his brain not telling him when to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know Niall he acted just like him.”

“Ever since he’s realized he likes you he’s been nothing but nice right?”

“Yes but that doesn’t change how he acted before he realized how he felt about me. We aren’t kids anymore we don’t go around being mean to girls we have crushes on.” Niall can’t say anything to that because you’re right, Harry has some things he needs to really make up for.

“I get that. But let me ask you this. What all have you heard about Harry Styles?” You let out a sigh as you send Niall a glare as he quirks a brow at you waiting to hear what all you’ve heard about his bestfriend.

“That he’s charming and nice.”

“What else?”

“He’s handsome and at parties he plays good music and uh I think some girls said they’d feel fine leaving their drink alone with him at a party. He’s funny uhm-oh he gives good hugs.” Niall has to hold back his laugh at your last thing because it’s one he’s also heard about Harry and he would have to agree, the man gives a damn good hug.

“It’s because he doesn’t pull away until you do-the hug thing. That’s why they are so good.” You feel your cheeks get warm as you imagine Harry holding you until you feel ready to let go, wondering if he’d really let you stand there for however long you needed or if he’d get annoyed with your clinginess after a minute or two. “But do any of those things sound like someone who’s that big of an asshole? I don’t think Cody has ever been called charming a day in his bloody life.” Niall points out as he walks the short distance so he’s closing the gap between the two of you allowing him to place a hand on your arm.

“Maybe just let him try to show you the Harry he normally is? Because you can’t deny that there’s something going on between you two with your tingles and his zaps.” You smile as he gives your arm a gentle squeeze. “And if you get to know him a bit and still think he’s a raging asshole then so be it. Just kick his lanky ass to the curb and move on.” Niall smiles when you let out a little giggle as he runs his hand up and down your arm a few times before letting go.

“I guess I-I could maybe try to get to know him a little more.” You say giving in to Niall’s sweet talking about how if all else fails you just tell Harry to leave you alone for good and move on with your life.

“M’gonna be honest with you love I think he’s like proper smitten with you so uh-don’t be all shocked if he comes on a little strong.” He warns as he turns to make his way towards your front door, you feel your tummy do a weird flip thing as you try to think of Harry being so far gone for you while you don’t even know if you want to be around him or not.

“But he’s still a gentleman of sorts so if you tell him to fuck off he will. Just wanted to give you a warning that’s all.” He rushes to explain when he turns to glance at you over his shoulder and sees a panicked look on your face.

“Thank-” Your words are cut short by a knock on your door that makes Niall instantly turn to answer it as if he was the one expecting company at your apartment. You tighten the belt of your robe as Niall swings the door open only to reveal a very startled looking Harry.

“Niall? Wha-what the hell are you-” Harry stops talking as he looks over Niall’s shoulder and sees you standing in your kitchen in a colorful robe that ends a few inches past your knees with your hair in a messy bun as if you just woke up. But it’s when he looks at Niall who is in just jeans and a wrinkled shirt with his hair all over the place that he begins to feel a surge of anger corse through his veins.

“Now don’t go overreactin’ Harry I just came by to see how she was doing and she made me some coffee that’s all.” Niall quickly explains once he can practically see the steam coming off Harry as his green eyes stare into his blue ones.

“Really? You just happened to be in the neighborhood is that is?” You furrow your brows as you cross your arms over your chest and watch the two men standing in your doorway have an intense staring contest.

“I was actually. Just a floor above if you must know so I figured it would be rude if I left the building without popping by.” Harry raises a brow at Niall who just gives him a playful wink as he reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. “Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go do my walk of shame back to my car. Call me whenever you’re done bein a prick.” Harry’s glare softens as he finally puts together exactly what Niall is saying, you just shake your head as you watch Harry move to the side so Niall can make his way out the door and into the hallway.

“I hope you were safe because the world doesn’t need anymore Horans yet!” Harry shouts down the hallway at Niall who responds with flipping Harry the bird as reaches the elevators.

“Good morning Harry.” Your voice brings Harry back to the whole reason he’s standing in your doorway, you can see him physically become more relaxed as soon as he turns his head and makes eye contact with you. His shoulders slump the slightest bit and his eyes get this soft look to them while the corners of his mouth turn upwards giving you a hint of a smile.

“Good morning.” He says with a smile as he brings his hand up to give you a small wave while he looks at you with a fondness that has a small blush beginning to creep its way onto your cheeks.

“You can come in if you’d like.” Harry eagerly steps inside your apartment, closing the door behind him before he takes a few small steps towards where you’re standing in the kitchen.

You can tell he is nervous and you can understand why, when you saw him last night he was asking you to give him a chance to get to know him and you walked away, making you still a little shocked that he decided to come knock on your door this morning. But then you remember what Niall said about him being smitten with you and it makes a little more sense as to why Harry just can’t let you go.

“Do you maybe want to take a walk with me? Through the park across the street?”

“A walk?”

“Uh yes or do you-you prefer the word stroll instead? I can call it whatever you want.” He fumbles a bit as you stare at him with an expression he can only take as confusion. You chew on your bottom lip as you look down at your robe and the slippers on your feet, of course this doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry so he tries to offer a solution. “I can wait at my place for you to get ready if you want? Or if you don’t want to go that’s fine too I can-”

“You really came here at eight in the morning to see if I wanted to go on a walk?” You question as you look back up at him not fully understanding why he would bother asking you on a walk when he mentioned wanting to get coffee just last night.

“I figured it would be better if we hung out in open places so if you uh get-get upset or something you wouldn’t feel trapped with me you could just walk away.” As odd as his reasoning sounds you can’t help but feel a small smile want to form on your face at the fact he doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck anywhere with him if you suddenly feel uncomfortable.

“That’s very thoughtful of you Harry.” He smiles at your kind words, you move around the kitchen and begin heading for your bedroom making Harry wonder if you’re about to kick him out or just leave him standing there like the idiot he’s beginning to think he is. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Feel free to have some coffee if you’d like.” Your words make a sigh of relief escape Harry’s lungs as he gives you a nod before you disappear into your bedroom to get dressed.

There’s an odd but also comfortable silence surrounding you and Harry as you walk through the park across from your apartment complex. You can feel his eyes on you every now and then but you haven’t let yourself look over at him yet, knowing that the moment you do you’ll get distracted by the way his hair looks pushed up and out of his face or how nice his arms look in the fitted black t shirt he has on with his usual skinny jeans and boots. And right now you want to try to just enjoy his company without any distractions but Harry seems to have other plans because just at you’re about to turn down a little path that passes the fenced in dog park he stops walking.

“Can I test something out really quickly?” He asks while he motions towards a bench behind you. You just nod and follow him, sitting down next to him but with some space between the two of you. It’s when he holds his hand out towards you, palm up that you begin to feel nervous, not sure what he wants you raise a brow at him as your eyes glance from his outstretched hand up to his face to meet his stare. “May I have your hand please? Just for a moment.”

“Uhm okay.” Your voice is shaky as you slowly hover your hand over his, not entirely ready to actually put your hands together. Harry sensing your nervousness gives you a smile and you swear his eyes turn a whole shade brighter as they stare into yours.

“You look really pretty today.” His voice is soft as his eyes dart down to the pink t shirt you have tucked into a pair of denim shorts. “I mean you always look pretty but I really like you in pink.” You know he’s trying to distract you from your nerves with his random compliments and normally you’d roll your eyes at someone giving you more than one in a row but coming from Harry as he looks at you with such adoration in his eyes your heart can’t help but want to melt.

“Thank you.” Harry just smiles as you look down at your hand that’s still hovering over his, you let out a deep breath and in one quick motion you press it against his and immediately you feel the tingling sensation begin to spread over your palm followed by a warmth that goes all the way down to your fingertips.

“What’s it feel like for you?”

“Like a uhm bee sting but without the pain. It’s a little tingly and warm.”

“Tingly and warm huh? That doesn’t sound too bad.” As he talks Harry slowly interlocks his fingers with yours so he’s fully holding your hand causing the warmth to spread up to your wrist.

“It’s not bad it was just a lot the uhm first time it happened and that’s-that’s why I was so out of it afterwards.” You explain as you try to ignore the slight tingle that hits your elbow when Harry gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why can’t you move on from me? You don’t even really know me.”

“I don’t know why I can’t move on from you. All I know is that you’re all I think about when you’re not around and anytime you touch me it’s like a lightning strike that goes all the way through me. I know that there’s something here and that you feel it too but you’re scared and that’s okay.” You swallow the small lump forming in your throat as Harry releases your hand so he can stand up and step over so he’s right in front of you. “I get why you’re scared. I was an asshole and you deserve better and you don’t even know if I can give you what you deserve because you don’t really know me either.” He kneels down so he can be eye level with you as he places a hand on your knee making a light tingling sensation go down to your toes.

“But all I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. To give this a chance.” You don’t know if it’s the way his voice hits your ears and sends a slight shiver down your spine, his hand on your knee that’s spreading a warmth down to your ankle, the way his eyes feel as if they can see right into the deepest parts of your heart as he stares at you or a mixture of all three that makes your mind suddenly forget all about the fear of getting hurt again.

“Okay.” You can tell by the look on Harry’s face that he wasn’t expecting the hear what you just let slip out of your mouth.

“Really? You-you’re serious? You want to give this a chance?” Harry’s eyebrows are raised in shock as the hand on your knee reaches for your hands that you have resting on your lap, placing his warm palm over both of them and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Yes.” You don’t give yourself time to overthink it, you know deep down that everything Harry has said is right. You know there’s something that keeps pulling you back to him so it’s worth taking a chance to get to know him and see where it goes because he’s worth taking a chance on. “You know I uhm saw you drop the flowers off because I was coming back from knocking on your door to talk to you about what happened the night of your party.” You confess as Harry looks at you like you’re the only person in the world that matters and in this moment he would say that’s true, or really anytime you’re around he’d say that’s true because if you’re anywhere near chances are you’re all he’s paying attention to.

“You went to my door? After I stormed off like a jerk?” He asks as he stands up and offers his hand to help you off the bench. You just nod and take his hand and feel your cheeks get warm when he doesn’t let it go, instead just slips his fingers between yours as the two of you begin walking.

“I wanted to see if you were okay and apologize if-”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was just frustrated that you didn’t feel what I did but it turns out you just hadn’t felt it yet.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel frustrated I just didn’t understand what you were talking about and then I felt uhm a little uh weird because I was just standing there in my nightgown and slippers and you kept staring at me with this-”

“Your nightgown had me frustrated in other ways but I’m sorry I didn’t even realize I was staring.”

“Harry.” He laughs as you reach over with your free hand and smack his arm making the familiar jolt go straight down to his fingertips. “You can’t say things like that.” You say with a small smile as you look away from him and down at your feet but Harry knows you’re not really upset because you give his hand a very small but still noticeable squeeze.

“I can’t? Why not? It was a very cute nightgown love.” He asks as he looks down at you with a playful grin. Harry decides right there as the two of you are walking down the path in the middle of the park near your apartments that he likes being the reason you smile and he really likes it when he’s the one causing the light pink tint that’s dusting your cheeks.

“You know I heard you were charming but this is way more than I expected.” You tease making Harry let out a scoff.

“I’m not being charming I’m just being honest. What else have you heard about me?”

“I just told you the charming thing so it’s your turn. What have you heard about me? If you’ve even heard anything about me. I know I wasn’t nearly as popular as you around campus.”

“You don’t like parties because there’s too many people and loud music annoys you. You like to read a lot and you want to be a teacher.” You weren’t sure what Harry was going to say but you didn’t expect it to be things you know he heard from the one person who oddly knows you the least even though you dated for over a year. So it hits you a little harder than you thought it would and you feel the need to let him know a few things he said aren’t true.

“I don’t mind parties. I like being around people and loud music can be annoying but only if it’s being played next door while I’m trying to sleep. I do enjoy reading but I didn’t want to be a teacher I wanted to be a school counselor.” You correct him with a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and that Harry has come to learn is the one you give when you’re trying to make it less obvious that you’re upset.

“I’m sorry it’s just what he told us.”

“You don’t have to apologize it’s okay.” This time when you smile Harry notices it’s genuine. You stop walking next to the fence that separates the dog park from the rest of the park. You reluctantly let go of Harry’s hand so you can turn and place your them on the top of the fence while letting out a sigh. “He used to breakup with me on the weekends there was a party he wanted to go to without me. Normally he’d do it on Friday with some excuse about needing space because I’m too clingy and then on Monday or Tuesday he’d be at my door begging for me to take him back because he missed me so much.” Harry feels his jaw clench as you tell him one of the ways your ex mistreated you, it’s no real surprise considering Harry only knows Cody from his visits to the parties thrown by the fraternity Harry was in and he was always alone when arriving but not when leaving.

“And I used to take him back every single time. Until about two or three months ago he told me he needed some distance so he could figure out a few things and when he came crawling back a few days later I told him I was done. He didn’t believe me of course he just said I was being dramatic and he’d come back when I was done being dumb.” You let out a shaky breath as the memories of him ending your relationship every few months and how you would be devastated while he was just out getting drunk and hooking up with other people come rushing back.

“I know people thought I was an idiot for staying with him for so long but I just liked the-the comfort of not having to worry about trying to find someone because even though he was an asshole most of the time he was nice-sometimes and he was still my boyfriend. God that sounds horrible-”

“Hey you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” You feel Harry’s hand on your shoulder as suddenly he’s standing next to you. “I know he’s an asshole but if I would’ve known he was treating you like that I would’ve-well honestly I would’ve kicked his ass and-”

“Really you would’ve kicked his ass? Even though you had no clue who I was?” You ask as Harry drops his hand from his shoulder as you turn so you’re facing him while leaning against the fence. Harry wants to roll his eyes at your question because every time Harry saw your ex at one of his frat’s parties or just lingering around the house he’d want to kick him out but never had a solid reason to, so if he would’ve known all this back then he would’ve had reason to not only ban him from the fraternity’s house but also kick his ass and he would’ve loved every moment of it.

“I might not have known who you were but do you really think I didn’t notice you around campus? Like I never saw you walking around with that bright pink backpack with all those jingling keychains hanging off it? Or around the coffee shop enjoying your book while wrapped up in that yellow jumper with the white flowers all over it in the corner booth that has the most comfortable seat because the rest are lumpy and just horrible? I noticed you every time I saw you. I just didn’t know that I had been hearing about you from Cody all those times he’d come to the house and mention his girlfriend.” Harry smiles when he sees your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as he lists off the times he saw you around campus but just didn’t know your name.

“My keychain collection is a bit out of control.” You admit making Harry laugh and nod his head as he reaches out and brushes a few hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ear.

“So to answer your question. If I would’ve known the girl with the pink backpack and the odd ability to always snag the best seat in the campus coffee shop was the one that prick was talking about I wouldn’t have hesitated to punch him in his annoying mouth.” Harry feels a wave of protectiveness hit him as he looks at you, wanting to save you from ever having to deal with anyone who would dare talk poorly about you or treat you in a way that makes you upset.

“I’ll happily go beat him up now if you’d like? I know where he lives.” The playful glare you give him is all the answer he needs, fighting your ex isn’t allowed.

“He’s not worth it.”

“Oh I know he’s not. But you are. Your happiness is worth a few bruised knuckles.” You don’t know what to say back to him as he grabs one of your hands. “I’d do anything to make you happy.” He explains as he brings your hand up to his lips, you watch as he gives the top of your hand a quick and soft kiss making a tingling sensation spread to your fingertips.

You know he means the words that just slipped out of his mouth, you know Harry would probably do just about anything for you and instead of that making you feel nervous like it did when you first realized how much Harry liked you it makes you feel a strange sense of relief. As if now that you’ve allowed yourself to let Harry in and let him show you how he can treat you the way you deserve, your happiness is no longer something you have to worry about all on your own. It’s now something you’re willing to allow Harry to have a say in because as you stare into his emerald colored eyes you get this feeling that you can trust him with the most breakable parts of yourself.

It’s been four days since your walk with Harry and since then he doesn’t think there’s been a time in his life he’s ever felt happier. Sure there’s been times when he’s been happy and felt content with his life, but nothing compares the the feeling he gets in his chest when he sees you staring at him with a smile on your face or when he gets you laughing so hard you get tears in corners of your eyes. He doesn’t know what the two of you are doing exactly, if you’d say he’s someone you’re dating or if it’s more but he also doesn’t really care because you let him hold your hand whenever he wants and he even got to kiss your cheek last night when he walked you to your door after taking you to dinner.

Harry can feel your presence behind him as he stands outside your shared apartment complex, a smile stretching across his face as he turns around just to see you smiling right back at him and he watches your cheeks get a bit pink as his eyes roam over your frame. Something Harry has learned about you is that you enjoy wearing bright colors so it’s not shocking to him that you’ve decided to go with a pair of jeans and a yellow top with a sunflower on it. It makes sense to him that you enjoy wearing colors that are warm and inviting, just like sunshine.

“Sorry I got stuck on the second floor talking to Ms. Tucker about her cat.” You explain once you’re standing in front of him.

“Ah how is Mr. Jelly doing? I heard he’s in a bit of a grumpy mood since he started his diet.” Harry asks as he grabs your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. You just give him a look that tells him the poor cat isn’t handling his new lifestyle very well.

“Still grumpy.” You answer as the two of you begin to walk down the sidewalk.

“You look pretty.” Harry says with a squeeze of your hand making you smile as you look down at your feet as the two of you walk, not wanting him to see how his compliment made a blush creep its way onto your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You glance over at him as he looks around to make sure it’s safe to cross the intersection, you take this opportunity to let your eyes take in his appearance. It’s not lost on you how attractive Harry is, you notice the double takes people do when he walks by and a small part of you feels a little out of place with him but you also feel a since of pride knowing he wants you to be the one standing next to him with his hand wrapped around yours. You find your eyes lingering on the practically see through black long sleeved shirt he’s wearing that lets you see all his tattoos, and when you look down you can’t help but want to let out a chuckle at the very familiar boots his extremely well fitting black jeans are tucked into.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Harry’s voice makes your eyes dart up to meet his as the two of you reach the other side of the street, feeling only slightly embarrassed you got caught staring at him but you can tell but the playful smirk on his face he doesn’t mind at all. “Do I own any other shoes? The answer is yes but honestly these are just the most comfortable.” You laugh as he gives you a wink before going back to leading you down the sidewalk.

“So you mean you would actually kick people out at the end of your parties by having someone stand on a table and-”

“Not just someone sweetheart it’s a designated brother for each party.” He corrects with a smile as the two of you sit across from each other in a cozy booth at the little ice cream shop a few blocks away from your apartment. “It’s their job to tell everyone to get out so they have to really mean it when they’re yelling while standing on top of a table. Not just anyone can get a living room full of drunk college kids to leave.” He explains and you can’t help but lean closer to him as he talks, something about how Harry explains things has you paying extra close attention and you wonder if it has anything to do with the deepness of his voice that accentuates his accent.

“Is the table necessary?” Harry smiles at your genuine interest in the different rules and odd traditions of his fraternity. “What if the person is very tall or has a loud enough voice that they don’t need to be standing on a table for people to hear them?” You begin firing off questions making Harry chuckle as he reaches over and grabs one of your hands from across the table.

“There’s been one person that I’ve seen not need the table to break up a party.” He tells you as he begins to mess with the little silver band that you wear on your index finger.

“Really? Who?”

“Niall Horan.” His answer makes you lean your head back and laugh because you can vividly imagine Niall shouting loud enough and with a slight edge that a whole house party freezes and then begins to clear out. “He’s a bit terrifying when he needs to be.”

“I can only imagine.” You say between laughs making Harry smile as he watches you try to get ahold of yourself.

“I like your laugh.” You would think by now you’d be used to Harry’s random compliments but the way even the simplest ones make your cheeks get hot has you doubting if you ever will because with his compliments comes his undivided attention as he stares right at you with a grin on his face.

The way he is always paying attention to you is still something you’re getting comfortable with. Having noticed over the past three days that even when you think he’s not really paying attention as you ramble on about something unimportant, he shocks you by asking a question or giving his opinion letting you know he was in fact listening and paying attention. Your last relationship left you feeling as if what you had to say or do wasn’t of any importance but with Harry he makes it seem as if anything that has to do with you is of the upmost importance, wanting to know every little random thing that pops into your head and checking in with you during the day to ask what you’re up to and if you need anything. The constant checking in is something you have quickly adjusted to because you like knowing Harry cares enough to text you or sometimes even call you during the day when he’s free just to see how you’re doing and to not so subtly tell you he misses you.

But that’s how your nightly meetups became a thing, him mumbling how he missed you and you telling him you’ll see him when you’re done at orientation for your new job and you two can go have dinner or take another walk. He quickly asked if dinner and a walk would be acceptable and of course you said that was fine because a part of you missed his company as well, probably not as much as he missed yours but still you found yourself missing the warmth of his touch. So that’s how you find yourself sitting across from him in the well loved ice cream shop with your sundaes long forgotten about while he tells you bits and pieces of his life in the fraternity. Already sharing with you that he’s not quite willing to fill you in on all the nitty gritty details because he doesn’t want you to see him as some asshole frat brother but still letting you in on what it was like living with Niall and ten other brothers in one house.

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” Harry raises a brow at your question as he continues playing with the ring on your index finger.

“Doing what love?” You let out a sigh at his teasing tone because he knows what you’re talking about he just likes to make you a bit of a flushed mess.

“Just complimenting me all the time? Is this something I should get used to or is it just temporary?”

“I’ll stop complimenting you when you stop doing things that are worthy of a compliment. But honestly I don’t see that happening anytime soon or really ever. So yeah you should just get used to it.” You playfully roll your eyes at his so very Harry like answer making him give your hand a squeeze.

“Well fine then two can play this game.”

“Oh really? Hit me with it then love let’s see what you’ve got.” He teases as he lets go of your hand so he can lean back in his seat and cross his arms over his chest with a smug looking smile on his face.

“I think your hair looks really nice today.” You start off simple making him give you a slight nod of approval as he runs a hand through his curls to push them up and out of his face. “I like your shirt.” The moment the words leave your mouth you know you’ve made a mistake as Harry looks down at his shirt that leaves very little to the imagination with how sheer it is.

“Do you really?” You just nod once his eyes find yours and you can see the smile slowly stretch across his face at the same time your cheeks begin to feel warm. “What do you like about it?” He asks as he places his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together letting you get a glimpse of the rings he has on his fingers as he leans in towards you.

When you don’t respond right away due to the sudden nerves that are swirling around in your tummy, Harry decides he’s done teasing you and reaches for both of your hands.

“You don’t have to be nervous to tell me what you’re thinking. I won’t ever judge you.” He reassures you, and you instantly begin to feel a little more relaxed as the warmth of his touch travels up to your wrists. “Like right now I’m thinking about how lucky I am to be out with you because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I’d tell you that at least a hundred times a day if I didn’t think you’d get sick of hearing it.” His confession has the nerves turning into butterflies that begin going off in your tummy.

“You’re very handsome.” You swallow down the nerves as Harry’s thumbs gently rub over your knuckles. “I like your tattoos and you are just uhm very-very good looking.” Your face feels like it’s one fire but you feel good letting Harry in on the fact you thinks he’s attractive, not that he’d ever have a reason to doubt how you felt about him with the amount of times he’s caught you blatantly staring at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

“I’m very happy to hear that you think I’m handsome. I’d have to go into hiding if the girl I’m infatuated with thought I was hideous.” You let out a small laugh at Harry’s lighthearted way to ease the tension that was beginning to surround the two of you, something you notice he is very good at, reading the energy of the room he’s in and knowing just when to crack a small joke or to ask a question that gets the conversation flowing in a different direction.

“Now come on.” He lets go of your hands so he can slide out of the booth and stand next to the table. “Let’s get you home before you say something really wild like you think my accent is sexy or-”

“It is.” It’s Harry’s turn to look shocked as you quietly interject on his silly little rant as you slide out of the booth and grab his hand that he’s held out for you.

“Oh stop you’re going to make my ego even bigger than it already is.” He says brushing off your compliment but the grin and slight pink hue to his cheeks is all the evidence you need that he wasn’t prepared for it so you feel good in giving him just a tiny dose of his own medicine.

“You know there’s uhm one more thing that I’ve been thinking about.” Harry looks over at you as the two of you walk out of the shop and turn onto the sidewalk.

“Let’s hear it then.” You try to calm your nerves down with a deep breath as you stop walking making Harry nearly stumble a bit as you pull at his hand that’s securely wrapped around yours to get him to stop walking. “Are you-”

“You haven’t tried to kiss me yet and I’m just wondering if it’s because you don’t think it’ll be good or is it because-”

“Hold on a minute love.” You feel as if your heart is going to beat right out of your chest as Harry stands directly in front of you with a rather serious expression on his face, one you don’t see very often. “You’ve been thinking about why I haven’t kissed you?” His voice has a gentle sort of sternness to it as he reaches up to place a hand on the side of your face.

“Yes? Do you uhm not-not want to? Because-”

“Of course I want to kiss you.” He cuts you off with a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable since we haven’t really established what’s going on between us that’s all. But please believe me when I say I do want to kiss you it’s something I’ve thought about since the night of my party if I’m being honest.” You feel relief wash over you as Harry softly explains why he hasn’t tried to make any moves on you, all while his thumb gently strokes over your cheekbone.

“Well Harry how am I supposed to know if I want to be your girlfriend if I don’t know how you kiss?”

“Girlfriend? I was thinking more like soulmate or life partner depending on how you feel about marriage and all-”

“I’ll tell you how I feel about it after you kiss me.” Your words have Harry letting go of your hand so he can place that one on the other side of your face, his eyes stare into yours as a small smile takes over his face making you have no other choice but to return it. You watch it all happen in what feels like slow motion, he leans in and softly brushes his nose against yours before he places his lips on yours in the sweetest kiss you think you’ve ever experienced in your life. It has your lips slightly tingling and a warmth spreading throughout your whole body as your hands reach out to grab a hold of him so you can pull him closer. When Harry slowly pulls away he makes sure to keep his hands on your face, his thumbs leaving trails of tiny tingles as they run over your cheeks.

“I thi-think I uhm wouldn’t-wouldn’t mind the whole marriage thing.” You mumble in a hushed voice as Harry rests his forehead against yours. He lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away so he can get a better look at your flushed face.

“Yeah? Should we stop by a jeweler on the way back home then? Get you sized up for a ring and all that?” Harry says only to gently tease you but when you nod your head as the hands you have fisting his shirt pull him back down so you can place a kiss to his lips he thinks maybe you’re being serious.

“Sounds good.” Harry can’t help but grin at how breathless you sound when he pulls away for the second time. His hands drop from your face making you pout at the loss of contact.

“Okay well come on sunshine we better get going before they close.” He shoots you a wink as your hands let go of his shirt so he can take his spot standing next to you on the sidewalk.

“Sunshine?” You ask as he grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips to give your knuckles a few kisses as the two of you begin walking again.

“Yeah. You’re my sunshine.” You smile at his answer and give his hand a squeeze. “Want to know what I’m thinking right now?” He asks with a playful smirk on his face.

“Yes.”

“I’m thinking that was one hell of a last first kiss.” You laugh and reach over and give his arm a little smack making him chuckle. “What? You’re the one asking to go ring shopping love so I think it’s safe to say that was our last ever first kiss.”

“You’re so lucky I find you attractive even when you’re being cocky.”

“Yeah.” You look over at him and it’s no surprise that he’s already looking at you with nothing but what you can only assume is love in his eyes. “I’m very lucky indeed.”

[ithinkicantdie]

I'll put a little bit of text here that felt too long to put in the tags but I know it doesn't really matter that much to other people what I think so I won't force myself to make any of the words I'm putting down make sense.

First point I wanted to make in the tags I started writing out was that I don’t think "girls' girl" should be included in this list because it’s a newer variation of the term "women supporting women" which I very much prefer as a positive counterpart in order to replace others like the extremely widely used "pick me girl" or just "pick me" because I think it is more important to celebrate the solidarity rather than use shame to point out when someone’s internalized misogyny is being a little too external.

"Girl math" as a term could be replaced with a different term for the logic that people are putting behind it but most of the posts are about consumerism and spending money so any far-left leaning people who identify with communism, socialism or just anti-capitalism (ily all, keep fighting for change) likely wouldn't use terms like that anyway so there wouldn't be much of a point. I do genuinely think we can let that whole trend go with just the superficial analysis of "people are trying to justify spending money by saying they aren't actually spending as much as they could be" but we could also go further into why we are made to feel shame for buying superfluous things or why we have to use the money we need to live in order to be happy and being happy when you're trying to stay alive feels impossible but the shame of spending money on things that make you happy compounds on top of that.

I associate bimbocore with Chrissy Chlapecka the most and she is very unapologetic about the bimbo videos to my knowledge because they make a lot of anti fascist posts but there are some problems she has to deal with due to being an influencer with low self esteem and rarely posting to social media at all without a full face of makeup while not wanting to encourage other people to also be that way. I also think the general public are trying to move away from saying things like whore and slut and skank because social media is all about being aesthetically pleasing and it's not about how much of a whore you are on the inside but how much of a bimbo you look or act like on the outside. The connotations of bimbo do point out how often sensuality and intelligence are thought of as at odds with one another in women but thought of as being found together very often in men and you could make an argument that women are being strong-armed into once again giving up when it comes to trying to be respected and revered for their personal accomplishments and they are actively being told to revert back to striving for superficial beauty standards to reach any amount of success. I could dive into that for hours honestly.

"Girlfriend brain" in the contexts I've seen it in (used in posts by normal people and not the 'stay at home girlfriend' influencers who scare me) is very similar to the whole trend of having "scary dog privileges" where you’re able to walk around without fear of getting harassed because men who don’t see you as a person will see your boyfriend as a person and you will not be as debilitatingly anxious about your personal safety in a public space. These trends alone can point out a lot of problems with how we are expected to "solve" problems by temporarily making it safer for only one individual at a time and not dismantling the culture that makes men feel entitled to women as a whole.

"Girl dinner" I think is heavily related to diet culture with people either purposefully eating less food to restrict the number of calories or eating junk food in the privacy of their own home without fear of backlash or judgement but it could even be fatigue of constantly cooking for other people because you have that expectation placed on you and you find brief respite in not wanting to cook for ‘just’ yourself but all of those options are insanely depressing no matter what. The expectation to be a sexy twig that eats nothing but also cook hearty meals for those around you to enjoy at any given moment is too exhausting and people break away from that where they can but also not every person participating in a viral trend is required to be actively experiencing any of the shame that the audience could be projecting onto them from personal experiences so does it really help at all or does it just hurt more people?

I do genuinely think clean girl core and DFE are heavily associated with white supremacist shit so I will not defend those at all, I think I've even seen some people call DFE a nazi tradwife dogwhistle so I'll just put that out there for other people to think on because I do not want to touch that with a ten foot pole.

And other people understand the whole "I’m just a girl" thing just fine obviously based off of most of the notes. Thank you No Doubt for providing such a banger that is infinitely better than the way people are abusing the phrase now.

"I'm just a girl", "girl math", "girl dinner", "divine feminine energy", "bimbocore", "clean girl", "girl's girl", "girlfriend brain" SHUT UPPP!!! SHUTT THE FUCKKKK UPPPPPP !!!!

[pedroscowgirl]

Dress

Professor!joel x college student fem!reader

Warnings SMUT! MINORS DNI! (Part 3 of my 'guilty as sin' series) MAIN masterlist Part. 1 ; Part 2

no!outbreak joel, big age gap(reader is 20 something), power imbalance (prof x student), joel is CHEATING on his wife, mentions of smoking & alcohol, spanking, teasing, oral job (m receiving), p in v (wrap it up), public sex, throat grabbing (idk), lmk if i forgot something!

Summary: Joel is getting a bit distant and you don't really know why till you run into him on your date with someone else and see him with his wife wc: 3.1k

A/n: Sorry the end is so foul but i couldn't leave it out. I hope you like this and the rest of the series :)) lmk if u want me to tag you in the next part. These pictures don't belong to me!

You and Professor Miller had been sneaking around for a while now. At first, it had been thrilling, the stolen moments, the risk, the way his hands would grip your hips like he couldn’t get enough. But something had shifted. Lately, he’d been distant, distracted. He didn’t reach for you as often, didn’t meet your eyes with that same burning intensity. And worst of all, he didn’t fuck you anymore.

You tried not to let it bother you, but the ache in your chest told you otherwise. You were used to being wanted, to being craved. So when a guy from your class—someone you’d talked to here and there—asked you out, you agreed without hesitation. If Joel wasn’t giving you attention, you’d find it elsewhere.

The evening of your date arrived, and you made sure you looked irresistible. A black dress that clung to your figure, lace teasing at the hem, makeup accentuating every sultry feature. You admired yourself in the mirror and smirked. If only Joel could see you now.

The restaurant was upscale, bathed in dim lighting that cast a sensual glow over everything. Your date led you inside, his hand warm on the small of your back. As you slipped off your jacket, revealing the way the dress hugged your body, you felt eyes on you.

And then you saw him.

Joel.

He was standing near the entrance, just taking off a woman’s jacket. His wife, you assumed. The woman he went home to at night. He smiled at her, and for the first time, the reality of her presence hit you like a wave crashing over jagged rocks. She wasn’t just some vague notion, some name spoken in hushed tones. She was real. And he looked at her with a softness you hadn’t seen in weeks.

Your stomach twisted. Before you could turn away, before you could gather yourself and push through the sudden tightness in your chest, his gaze snapped to you.

His smile faltered. His expression shifted from contentment to shock. His eyes darkened, flickering over your body, your dress, your date.

One second.

That’s all it was.

One second of locked eyes before your date grabbed your hand, pulling you toward your table. And just like that, the moment was over.

But the damage had already been done.

You felt his gaze on you even as you sat down, even as you tried to focus on your date’s words. The conversation felt distant, muffled, like you were underwater. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Joel had looked at you—equal parts shock and something else. Something darker.

Your date leaned forward, smiling. “You look amazing tonight.”

You forced a smile, taking a sip of your wine. “Thank you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel sitting across the restaurant, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t touching his wife as he had before. In fact, he barely seemed present at all. His fingers tapped idly against the table, his eyes flickering in your direction more often than they should have.

Your date continued talking, oblivious, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered what Joel was thinking. If he was regretting his distance. If he was feeling the same burn in his chest that you were. You wanted to make him squirm.

Leaning forward, you rested your hand on your date’s arm, laughing at something he said. It was a calculated move, and when you risked another glance at Joel, you knew it had worked. His grip tightened around his glass, his knuckles white. His wife said something to him, but he barely reacted.

You smirked, turning back to your date, pretending nothing was wrong. But the tension in the air was thick, suffocating.

Minutes passed, and the glances between you and Joel only grew more frequent, more heated. You played with the stem of your wine glass, running your fingers over it slowly, deliberately. His eyes followed the movement. You shifted in your seat, crossing your legs in a way that made the hem of your dress ride up just a little higher. His jaw tensed.

Your date touched your hand lightly. “You okay?”

You blinked, pulling yourself back into the moment. “Yeah, of course.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “You just seem a little distracted.”

You hummed, glancing past him to where Joel sat. His wife was speaking, but his attention was elsewhere. You. His fingers were curled around his glass so tightly you thought it might shatter. You took another slow sip of wine, letting your tongue dart out to catch a stray drop on your lips.

Joel’s expression darkened. He shifted in his seat, exhaling slowly, deliberately, like he was trying to steady himself. You felt something warm rush through you at the realization—you still had that effect on him. Even now. Even here.

Then, as if making a decision, he pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly, murmuring something to his wife before walking out of the restaurant.

You hesitated for a moment, your pulse quickening. What was he doing? Without thinking too hard, you excused yourself from your date, waiting a few minutes so it wouldn’t look suspicious, then grabbed your jacket and stepped outside.

There he was, standing just beyond the glow of the restaurant’s entrance, his broad frame tense against the cool night air. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a loose black dress shirt that clung to his body in all the right ways. Your mouth watered.

“I never took you for a smoker,” you teased.

He stiffened, immediately recognizing your voice. Turning around slowly, his eyes met yours, filled with something unreadable. He sighed, exhaling smoke. “Ain’t one. Just do it when I’m stressed out.”

“First date?” you joked.

He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “She’s my wife. It’s our anniversary today....”

That hit you in a way you weren’t expecting. Suddenly, his recent distance made perfect sense.

“And you?” His gaze flickered over your dress, his jaw tightening. “Goin’ for younger guys now?”

You smirked, stepping closer. “You know I could never do that, Joel. He’s sweet, but I like ‘em a little more... ripe.”

Your fingers brushed his bicep, and he tensed under your touch. “Darlin’... please, not here.”

You pouted. “Don’t give me that look.”

Your fingers drifted lower, toying with his belt, dangerously close to his crotch. His breath hitched.

“Don’t make me sad, daddy,” you purred, pressing just a little closer. “That college boy won’t treat me the way you do. And you wouldn’t want me to feel bad, would you?”

Your fingers fumbled with his belt, the leather slipping through your hands as you worked to undo the clasp. But before you could finish, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly. “Fuck, babygirl,” he hissed, his voice low and strained. “Not out here in the open like this.”

Before you could protest, he yanked you to the side of the restaurant, where no one could see you. The brick wall was cold against your back, but his body was a hot as he pressed into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was all teeth and desperation. You moaned into his mouth, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders, but he pulled back just enough to let you breathe.

You pushed him away slightly, your knees hitting the pavement as you crouched in front of him. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants, tugging them down just enough to reveal the hard outline of his cock straining against his boxers. You bit your lip, glancing up at him through your lashes, and his hand came to rest on the top of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. He nodded, a silent permission, and you didn’t waste another second.

You pulled him free, his length springing against his stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight. You spit into your hand, slicking him up before leaning in to drag your tongue slowly along the tip.

His fingers tightened in your hair as you took him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length, teasing every sensitive spot you knew drove him wild. He groaned, low and guttural, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to keep himself still. “Fuck, babygirl,” he muttered, his voice strained. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, lips glistening, and smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He let out a shaky laugh, his hand brushing your cheek before sliding back into your hair. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, just leaned back in, taking him into your mouth again, this time slower, more deliberate. His breath hitched, and you felt his thighs tense under your hands. The taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue—it was intoxicating. You could feel him fighting to keep quiet, his teeth gritted as he tried to stifle the sounds threatening to escape.

But you weren’t going to let him off that easy.

You pulled back again, dragging your lips along his length, and spit on him, watching as your saliva mixed with the slickness already there. His hand tightened in your hair, and he let out a low growl. “Tease,” he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice.

You smiled up at him, all innocence and mischief, before taking him into your mouth again, this time swallowing him whole. His hips jerked forward, and he cursed under his breath, his fingers tangling in your hair as he struggled to keep himself under control.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re too good at this.”

You hummed around him, the vibration drawing another groan from his lips. His grip on your hair tightened, and you could feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more ragged, his hips moving with a little less restraint.

And then, just as he was about to tip over the edge, you pulled back, leaving him throbbing and desperate.

“Babygirl—” His voice was a warning, but you just smiled up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“What’s the matter, Professor?” you teased, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “Can’t handle a little teasing?”

He let out a low growl, his eyes dark with need. “You’re playin’ with fire, darlin’.”

You shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe I like getting burned.”

Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up to your feet, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall. His body pressed against yours, hard and unyielding, and you could feel the heat of him through your clothes.

“You wanna play games?” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fine. But don’t come cryin’ to me when you can’t handle the consequences.”

He lifted your black dress to your waist, his breath hitching as his eyes raked over the sight of your black lace panties. “Fuck, babygirl,” he growled, his voice thick with desire and possessiveness. “You were really gonna let him have you? You naughty girl… You know you only belong to me.”

Before you could respond, his hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. “N-no,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I just didn’t have any other underwear that would fit with this dress—”

He smacked you again, the sound echoing in the alley, but this time his hand lingered, rubbing the sting away in a way that was almost soothing. His other hand slid to the front of your panties, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric. “Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re so wet already. Fuck, babygirl, you’ve been thinkin’ about this all night, haven’t you?”

You didn’t answer, your face pressed against the cold brick wall, but your body betrayed you as his finger slipped beneath the lace, sliding into you with ease. You gasped, your hips jerking forward instinctively, and he chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your ear. “That’s it,” he murmured, his finger moving in slow, deliberate strokes. “Let me hear you, darlin’.”

Your thighs trembled, your nails scraping against the rough surface of the wall as you tried to steady yourself. “J-Joel,” you managed to choke out, your voice weak. “We need to hurry… They’ll get suspicious.”

The reminder of the people waiting for you—his wife, your date—hung in the air like a storm cloud, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Then beg for it, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

You hesitated, your pride warring with the ache between your legs, but his finger curled inside you, hitting that spot that made your knees buckle. ��Please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking. “Please, just… put your dick in me. I need it. Please.”

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice dripping with approval. In one swift motion, he ripped your panties off, the sound of tearing fabric making you yelp. His hand clamped over your mouth before the sound could escape, his grip firm but not painful.

“Hey!” you protested when he finally removed his hand, your voice a mix of anger and arousal. “Those were my favorites!”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thought you said you only wore ‘em ‘cause you didn’t have anything else?”

Before you could protest, he shoved into you, hard and unrelenting, the stretch making you cry out. His hand returned to your mouth, muffling your sounds as he set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against yours with enough force to make your thighs shake.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he drove into you again and again. “You feel so goddamn good, babygirl. Always so tight for me.”

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, your release crashing over you like a wave. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his groan muffled against your skin.

For a moment, the only sound was your ragged breathing, the alley silent except for the distant hum of the restaurant. Then he pulled out, turning you around to face him. His fingers dipped between your legs, collecting the mess of your combined release, and he held them up to your lips.

“Suck,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your tongue darting out to clean his fingers. The taste of him—of you—was intoxicating, and you licked your lips when you were done, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

But before you could say anything, his hand shot out, gripping your throat gently but firmly. He pulled you into a kiss that was all teeth and desperation, his tongue claiming your mouth as if he could erase the taste of anyone else who might’ve been there.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your legs weak and your mind hazy. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “You’re mine, babygirl. Don’t you ever forget that.”

The cool night air did little to calm the heat still lingering on your skin as you adjusted your dress, the fabric clinging awkwardly without the support of your now-ruined panties. Joel straightened his shirt, his movements sharp and deliberate, though his breathing was still uneven. He glanced at you, his eyes dark and unreadable, before nodding toward the restaurant.

“Go first,” he muttered, his voice low. “I’ll follow in a minute.”

You hesitated, your legs still shaky, but you didn’t argue. Slipping back into the restaurant, you forced a smile as you approached your table. Your date looked up, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice warm but tinged with suspicion.

“Yeah,” you lied smoothly, sliding into your seat. “Just needed some air.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and launched back into the story he’d been telling before you excused yourself. You tried to focus, nodding along, but your attention kept drifting to the entrance.

A moment later, Joel walked in, his posture relaxed, his face a mask of calm. He made his way to his table, where his wife sat, her smile bright as she looked up at him.

“There you are,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.”

Joel chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. Your stomach twisted as you watched his lips meet hers, the same lips that had just been on your skin, tasting you. Your mouth fell open slightly, the memory of his fingers, his tongue, his claim on you still fresh in your mind.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said, his voice smooth as he sat down. “Just needed a smoke.”

His wife smiled, oblivious, and reached for her wine glass. You forced yourself to look away, but your mind was racing. The taste of him—of both of you—was still on his lips, and she had no idea. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of guilt and something darker, something you didn’t want to name.

Your date reached for your hand, his touch pulling you back to the present. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “You seem… distracted.”

You forced a smile, squeezing his hand. “I’m fine,” you said, though the words felt hollow. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the conversation at your table fading into background noise as your thoughts spiraled. You could still feel him, his hands, his mouth, the way he’d claimed you in the alley. And now, sitting just a few tables away, he was playing the perfect husband, his wife none the wiser.

When the check finally came, you were relieved. Your date insisted on walking you to your car, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. As you stepped outside, the cool air hit you like a slap, and you took a deep breath, trying to clear your head.

“I had a great time,” your date said, his smile genuine as he leaned in to kiss you.

You hesitated for just a moment before letting him, the kiss soft and sweet—nothing like the bruising intensity of Joel’s. When he pulled back, you forced another smile.

“Me too,” you said, though the words felt like a lie.

As you drove home, your mind kept drifting back to the alley, to the way Joel had looked at you, to the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. 

Taglist for this series: @morganlolitta @elliesr1fle

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Make You Mine 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, possible abuse, alcoholism, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father is strict but his authority is challenged by the boy in town and the man at his door.

Characters: Arvin Russell, Lee Bodecker

Note: dirty old man vs. nasty young man

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The radio blares as you enter the front room, a plate in each hand. You hand one to the sheriff as he smirks and offer the other to your father. He doesn’t look at you as he cups his chin and slumps. You’re not sure he’s even awake. 

“Daddy,” you say. 

He doesn’t answer. You set the dessert on the round table next to his chair. You back up as Bodecker catches your eye. You bite back a frown. 

“I’ll get that rum,” you utter. 

You retreat and hurry off to the kitchen. You find two short liquor glasses and pour the rum. You return to them and place one glass by your father before giving the other to the sheriff. He examines the dark liquor. 

“Fine brand,” he drawls, “and a fine dessert. Hard to enjoy without a fine woman.” His blue eyes flick up to yours. The silver strands in his brown hair glimmer in the lamp light. “Where’s yours, then, baby?” 

“Mine, sir?” You fold your hands and step back. 

“You put all this work in, you should enjoy the fruits of your labour,” he tuts. “Ain’t that right, Jack?” 

You father grumbles as he leans toward the radio. It’s got an arched top, one of the ones back from before the war. Your grandfather’s. You don’t dare touch it. 

“Come on, then, you gotta have a bite,” he puts the drink down and lifts the plate off his lap, “here ya are, girl.” 

He cuts into the pastry with his fork and chisels away a creamy bite. Your purse your lips as he offers it to you. You gulp. 

“Sheriff, that’s for you. Really, dinner was more than enough--” 

“Go on,” he hovers the fork, the cream about to drop. “I’m sharin’, like a gentleman.” 

You nod and push your hands behind you. You ball them up tightly and bend forward. You're overly aware of his gaze as you close your lips around the tines and suck off the cream. You keep your mouth sealed as you pull back. 

You chew thoroughly before you swallow. He chuckles and balances the plate on his thigh. He curls a finger to beckon you down, “come here, baby girl, you got something...” 

You crinkle your brow but obey. Your father garbles senselessly as the commentators call an out. You wince as the sheriff drags his thumb across your lower lip. 

“Made a mess,” he purrs and pushes against the center of your lips. “Best clean it up.” 

He forces his way into your mouth and rubs your tongue, wiping the sweet cream on your tastebuds. He pets your chin before he pulls away. Your saliva glistens on his thumb. He puts it to his mouth and licks. 

“You’re just as sweet, baby girl,” he winks. 

You waver and look at the floor, “sheriff, there’s a real mess in the kitchen. I best clean it up.” 

“You always do what’s best, don’t ya?” He teases. “Go on, then. Be a good girl.” 

His words send chills over you. He's not saying anything wrong but his tone suggests otherwise. That look on his face too. You flit away, your breath constricting from the breath trapped inside. 

You exhale as you enter the kitchen. You focus on cleaning up. You wash the dishes meticulously, hoping to waste the time until the sheriff leaves. 

A sudden crash rings through from the front room. You wring the dishcloth and rush through the door. You’re daddy’s on the floor, his plate and glass around him. The radio continues to buzz. 

Bodecker stands over him, hands on his hips. 

“Told him to slow down,” he clucks. 

“Daddy?” You scamper forward. The sheriff looks at you and lays a hand on your shoulder. 

“Don’t you worry, baby girl. I’ll get him. He just needa sleep this off.” He squeezes and rubs with his thumb, reluctantly letting you go. “You lead the way, huh?” 

He bends and scoops up your daddy. You pout but can’t argue. You wouldn’t be able to move him on your own. You turn and guide the sheriff. You take him to the stairs and up to your father’s room. You open the door but stay outside. You’re not supposed to go in there. 

You watch from the door as he lays your daddy on the mattress. You rub your palms together nervously. He grips his lower back as he steps back. 

“Ah, sittin’ in that cruiser, no good on me,” he grits as he crosses the room. He shuts off the light as he gets to the door. 

“Is he alright?” You ask as he closes you out. 

“Should be,” he brushes his fingertips long your hip. “Don’t you worry. Seems you do too much of it.” 

“Oh... uh,” you step away from him. He looks past you and heads down the hall. 

He stops by your bedroom and spins back to you. You trip to keep from colliding with him. “This yours?” he taps on the door. 

“Um, yes, sheriff.” 

He spreads his hand on the wood, “really?” 

He grabs the handle and twists. You don’t have a chance to stop before he struts inside. You gasp and follow him. 

“Sheriff? What--” 

“I’m just lookin’,” he says as he heads for the bed. “It’s nice. Got a lady’s touch, ain’t it?” 

He admires the shelf clock. Your mom painted it. You teeter on your toes. 

“I guess, but...” 

“I’m gonna need the guest room,” he says. “Ain’t in no state to be drivin’. You got a heavy pour on ya, girl.” He turns and strides up to you. “That rum sure is strong.” 

“Oh, I'm sorry, sheriff--” 

“’Sides,” he stops before you, “should be sure your daddy makes it through the night. He’s a lush.” 

You look away guiltily, “I’ll make up that spare bed.” 

“You do that. I’ll clean up the mess he made.” 

He dips his chin and squeezes past you, so close you feel a tug in your skirt. You wait until you hear him on the stairs before you move. You go to the linen cabinet and take out some new sheets. 

You make up the bed, crawling over it to tug a corner tight. You don’t often have company. A whistle cuts through the air and you quickly back up off the bed, embarrassed at having your bum right up in the air. The sheriff leans in the doorway, grinning. 

“That’s a nice skirt. Fits ya real good,” he purrs. 

“Thank you, sheriff. All done,” you sniff and fix the collar of your blouse. 

“Now, you hear anything, be sure to come get me. It’s a big house, ain’t it?” 

“Yes, sheriff. I will.” You near the door but he doesn’t move. 

“If’n ya scared, you can always bunk with me,” he raises his brows and licks his lips. 

“I’m alright, sheriff. I hope you sleep well.” 

“You too,” he finally moves, just inside the door frame. “Sweet dreams.” 

“Yes, good night, sir,” you scurry out. 

“I know I’ll be havin’ nice dreams,” he slithers. 

🥧

You’re restless. Sleep doesn’t come easy as the winds whistle and the panes shake in the window frames. It’s more than that keeping you awake. 

The sheriff’s just on the other side of that wall. Sleeping, but still there. It was only ever you and your  daddy. Company feels strange. 

You toss and turn. You roll around enough to agitate your bladder. You sigh. You won’t sleep with the urgency pressing. You get up and tiptoe to the door. 

You go into the hall and creep down the bathroom. You close yourself in and flip on the light. The release is not much of a relief. You’re tense and uneasy. You wash your hands quickly and open the door. Your hand pauses before the light switch as a shadow greets you. 

You yipe at the sheriff as he stands in only his white briefs and undershirt. He yawns and scours you with he droopy eyes. His lifts his head and bats away the sleepiness. 

You hug yourself. Your nightgown feels thinner under his gaze. He presses his hand to his chest and hums. 

“Funny runnin’ into ya. Lookin’ mighty scrumptious, ain’t ya?” He drawls. 

You clasp your hands over the neckline of your nightie, “sheriff, I was just--” 

“What was you doin’?” He leans in, his hand on the door frame. “Was you thinkin’ of something fun?” 

“No, sir, just had to... go.” 

“Mm, mm, mm,” he looms over you, “you wasn’t thinkin’ of openin’ my door, was ya? Sneakin’ into the bed, keepin’ warm?” His eyes drift down to your chest and the fabric bristles against your hard nipples, “cold in here.” 

“No, sir, I wouldn’t--” 

“You wouldn’t? Is it ‘cause you such a good girl, hm? You tellin’ me a girl like you ain’t been with no boys?” 

“Sheriff?” You nearly shriek. 

“Well, look ya, baby girl,” he growls and lumbers closer, backing you into the bathroom. “You’re mighty fine. Might fine.” He grabs your hips and pens you in. “Any man’d be lucky to get you.” 

“Sheriff,” you whimper and push against his chest. “Please, I’m tired. I want to go back to bed.” 

“Why? You gonna go hide and touch yourself? Gonna think of me?” 

Is this a nightmare? It’s too distorted not to be. 

“I don’t do that, sir.” 

“You don’t?” 

“N-no, sir, and I don’t want to talk about that--” 

“You should,” he growls. “You should try it least once. Know what ya like.” 

“Please,” your voice quavers. “You’re scarin’ me.” 

“I’m scarin’ ya? How so, baby girl? You know I wouldn’t hurt ya.” He sucks his teeth. “I’d be real gentle.” 

You nearly choke. Silence curdles as you stare at him in horror. You know what he means. He’d be gentle while he—while you-- 

You push him and elbow by him. Horror keeps you moving. You won’t look back. You can’t. He chuckles. 

“Y’ain’t got now humour, you youngins,” he taunts.  

You get to your door as the trickle of his stream hits the toilet water. The door is open, shining into the hallway. He’s so blatant, so unafraid, you can’t help but wonder what you did to encourage him. 

🥧

You spend the rest of the night awake, watching the door. You don’t think Bodecker would let himself in but you also never expected him to corner you like he did. Each time you close your eyes, you see his. That shine in them; that darkness. 

No, he wouldn’t do anything. He was just messing with you. Your daddy always says he has a strange sense of humour. 

You can’t lay in bed all day. Even if you want to hide. After last night, you have to make sure your daddy is okay. 

You make yourself get up and get dressed. You don’t hear the sheriff. You sneak to the bathroom to go through your usual routine then emerge at last, ready but not. 

You go to your daddy’s door and knock. He doesn’t answer. You don’t expect he would. Especially after last night. 

Hinges creak and you lock up. You knock again. You should just go in. 

“Mmph, baby girl, you’re awake?” Bodecker says. 

You turn, pressing your back to the door. “Just checking on daddy.” 

“Such a good girl,” he is unkempt as he emerges. 

Again, he has only his briefs and his undershirt. Now that it’s brighter, you’re agape to notice the tightness in his lower half, the tension of fabric draw over his... part. You keeps your eyes up. A shake of hair juts up and his eyes are puffy with fatigue. 

“I’ll just have a look then go start breakfast,” you say. 

“Now, now, baby girl,” he charges toward you, “you go and start now. I’ll see to the old man.” He drags his knuckles up and down your arm. “I dreamt of you.” 

You blink, “you did?” 

“Sure did, but don’t compare to the real thing. Can’t,” he grins. “You got bacon? I like bacon.” 

“Yes, sheriff,” you gulp and back away. “Thanks uh... for checking him. But, er, he gets real mean in the mornings.” 

“All the better I should deal with him.” 

You sidle away, cautious. You turn at the stares and keep yourself from barreling down. You stop at the bottom to gather your wits. He’s not going to hurt you. He’s playing around. 

You go into the kitchen and get started. Eggs, bacon, bread. You light the stove and a hear a thumping. You pause and listen to the house. You hope your daddy isn’t causing too much trouble for the sheriff. 

That noise comes again. You only realise then it’s not upstairs, it’s the front door. You leave the pan on the burner and go into the entry way. You open the door sheepishly and peek out. It’s that man from the day before. The one that carried your bag. How’d he find you? 

He says your name and smiles. His brown eyes are warm and deep. You blink at him. 

“He-hello,” you murmur. “What, er... Arvin?” 

“You remember. Yeah, I was just passin’ by and I saw the cruiser out front.” 

“Huh? You mean—you need the police?” You ask. 

“No, no, I can take care of myself. I was just... concerned. Thought maybe you were in need of help.” 

“No, um, but... how... how did you know I'd be here?” 

“Yesterday, when I walked ya. I could go until I was sure you were back safe,” he explains. “That’s all. Long as you’re good, I'm good.” 

“Oh, uh...” 

“Who’s that then?” Bodecker asks as he comes down the stairs heavily. 

You wince and back up. You can’t close the door, that would be rude, but you don’t know that you should let the sheriff know that this man followed you home. 

“Sheriff?” Arvin calls through. “That you?” 

Bodecker sighs and comes down. You’re thankful he put his pants on at least. He grabs the door and rips it out of your grasp. You shuffle aside. 

“Russell, whatcha botherin’ her for?” 

“Not bothering, sir,” Arvin grins. “I was just confirming our planes. She’s comin’ with me to the soda shop this afternoon and I was making sure she don’t forget.” 

The sheriff growls. “Is that so?” 

“Sure it is,” Arvin sets his stance. “Gonna get her a cherry soda float. Right?” 

He looks at you. You don’t know what to say or do. If you say no, then you have to explain that you led him back here. Plus you’d have to reject Arvin and he’s been so nice. If you say yes then... then you have to go out with him and you don’t know him very well. 

“Yes,” you eke out. “Yes, I like cherry.” 

“Well, it’s not even eight in the mornin’ so you be off, boy,” Bodecker swings the door shut and faces you. “Where’s that bacon at?” 

[reminiscebliss]

"Poison the well." Please explain how I'm "poisoning the well". I'm very curious which part you consider to be so.

1. Yes, I know people do. I said that. And yes, I know why - even if it's reactionary and illogical. Let's explore it:

You call it an "art-stealing parisitic machine" who can spit out only what it's been fed... Wrong. By that logic, you are an art stealing parasitic machine who can only spit out what it's been fed. LLM's like ChatGPT (which was referenced the most in those tags) are made in our image in more ways than one. Even their neural networks were inspired and based off of how biological neurons work. This already creates a pretty intelligent machine, but add a transformer(basically an even more complex neural network) into the mix and you've got something capable of even greater complexity. You get a LLM.

You're probably still thinking, so what? It's still just predictions and probabilities and tokens.

Common misconception, and a frustrating one too. I don't have the time and frankly I don't think you have the interest (if I'm wrong then I'm happy to explain more later) so I'll try to keep it as simple as I can. In the simplest way I can say it, if an LLM was simply just word prediction, if it was simply just "spitting out what it's been fed" it would be inefficient and inaccurate. LLM's link not only just words, but sylables, concepts, ideas, symbols, etc etc etc, across all different domains of knowledge. It forms connections and understanding between all these different areas, not too dissimilar from the way a human brain maps concepts and ideas to form patterns. And it constructs meaning dynamically, meaning its thinking and output is not pre-defined, it evolves as it goes. This is really hard to explain without getting into details about how an LLM works, but essentially the LLM understands and links patterns and concepts in a way that is not only similar to us, but better and faster than us.

This is all to point out that the inner workings of AI is not as simple as: It spews what it's been fed. What you're probably actually trying to say is: AI has learned (and even this is a gross simplification) from every inch of humanity including the internet and I don't like that because... because people create various forms of art on the internet, and so can AI?

And, look, even if you're worried about the "stealing" aspect and creators not being fairly compensated, it just makes my main point stronger and even more relevant, in conjugation with the point you bring up about the affects on the environment:

AI needs to be owned by the people. The people should be deciding these things; how do we fairly compensate those whose work it learns from, what do we do about how this effects the environment, how do we balance all of this, and so much more.

But you want to be obtuse about that point, you want to dismiss and diminish that point, you want to act like it's not relevant and I'm "missing the point" when it is one of the most relevant things for the future of AI and humanity. Cause guess what, all those problems that you claim to care about, the corporations don't care. They only care about developing a bigger, better, smarter model so they can make the most money, and they're doing just that.

But instead you'd rather argue the value of AI, which is a losing battle on your side but I'll indulge you if you'd like.

2. Not any argument, no. Actually, I stated which arguments, but you want to stay reactionary so I'll keep indulging you.

"These people let the machines do all the work." This line of thinking is wrong in so many ways, but okay, I'll walk you through it. First, let's assume what you say is true, "these people" open up ChatGPT and say "Write me a story about x." Agreed, lazy from a creative perspective, and the user definitely shouldn't get any credit for writing. Whether they want to share it or not, as long as they're not lying about it being AI written, I don't see the issue.

But wait, let's look at the tags.

"... ai admittedly helped me with this."

"AI translation"

"AI is a good editor/writers block evasion tool"

"somewhat AI assisted"

Even the ones that are pure AI, the tags indicate it to be so. But most of the tags indicate AI assitance, not purely AI-written content.

AI, as it's known today, is a tool. A very efficient one. You can use it to your benefit, or complain about the ones who do. But it's not going away. Just like boomers who swore that kids will get dumber because Google became a thing. "They're lazy, they have all the answers at their fingertips, they didn't have to do all that hard work like I had to do." Just like so many endless examples of older generations rebuking change and advancement, because it's a little uncomfortable in the beginning. Sounds pretty familiar.

Then you ask what's the point, there's no fame or money or glory... Have you considered people just enjoy the process of creating, whether or not they get anything out of it? "They didn't create it, the AI did!" Yeah and I suppose if it was their friend, or a person that proof-read their story, or helped them get out of writers block, or translated it, or co-created something, then it would still be considered creation? Just not if it's AI, no, whatever work they did contribute didn't count because AI proof read their story or gave them a good idea or wrote 10%, or 50%, or 1%. None of it matters, they're lazy right? Should have just gone to their friend, then it would count. Oh, maybe they didn't have any? Too bad, do it all yourself the hard way then, the right way, because AI = bad, and just like boomers we wouldn't want things to progress or get easier now would we.

Again, arguing the value AI brings, even as a creative tool, is a losing battle. Accept the value, fight for it to be used ethically. It's more worthwhile.

do people have no shame anymore?

[nhlclover]

IF THESE WALLS COULD TALK WILL SMITH

pairing: will smith x celebrini!sister!reader

summary: you've been struggling to keep your relationship with will a secret, but when teasing escalates, your secret is unexpectedly exposed.

warnings: brother's best friend trope, mentions of drinking, secret relationship, you and mack are living together instead of him living with the thornton family

wc: 2.49k

notes: when done right, the brother's best friend trope is soooo delicious

As you pull up outside of the Toffoli’s house, the party is already in full swing as the Sharks let loose for the night. You can hear the steady hum of conversation and music flowing out from the open windows.

You’re used to this by now. Living in San Jose for school has meant becoming a regular fixture at these gatherings, thanks to your brother, Macklin. At first, you’d felt like an outsider, just the kid sibling tagging along, even though you’re older than him. But over time, the team had embraced you as one of their own. It’s hard not to get close when they’re constantly around, filling your nights with games or pre-match dinners with the girls.

You step inside, exchanging quick greetings with the players and their significant others. You sidestep through the crowded space, quickly taking in the familiar faces. And then, your eyes find him across the room, as they always do.

He’s standing near the kitchen, beer in hand, laughing at some story Nico is telling him. The dim lighting does nothing to dull the sharp angles of his face, the way his blonde hair curls slightly at the ends, a little dishevelled but in a way that only makes him look better. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt, sleeves stretched just enough over his biceps to make your stomach do that stupid little flip it always does when you see him.

God, he looks good. Too good. Unfairly good.

For a second, you forget yourself, caught in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins, how effortlessly he commands the space around him. But then reality snaps back into place, and you remind yourself that you’re not supposed to be looking at him like this. Not here. Not when your brother could walk past at any second.

Your relationship with Will has been a secret — a carefully kept one.

At first, Will was just your brother's teammate — another face in the endless cycle of players who drifted in and out of your life because of Macklin. But unlike the others, he stuck around. He and Mack had clicked instantly when they joined the Sharks, and from that point on, they were practically inseparable. If Macklin wasn’t at the rink, he was with Will. If Will wasn’t at the rink, he was at your and Macklins' place. They trained together, travelled together, and spent their downtime playing video games on your couch like overgrown kids.

And somewhere along the way, between all the nights spent at your apartment, things changed. The connection had been effortless, undeniable.

But it wasn’t supposed to turn into something more.

You hadn’t meant for the late-night conversations to get deeper, hadn’t planned for the stolen glances to linger too long. You definitely hadn’t expected the first time he kissed you, back when it was still something you could chalk up to bad decision-making and too much tequila consumed at a San Jose State frat party. But then it happened again — sober, intentional. And again. Until, eventually, neither of you could deny it anymore.

Now, months later, it’s something real. Something you don’t want to hide, but Will — he’s more cautious. Not because he isn’t sure about you. That much has always been clear. It’s Macklin he worries about.

Mack’s always been protective, always viewed you as his responsibility in a way that, while sweet, could also be incredibly frustrating. On one hand, he’s looking out for you and making sure his older sister is always happy. But he’s your younger brother. Your baby brother. He’s the one you should be worrying about, not the other way around.

And Will? He’s one of his closest friends, someone he trusts implicitly. The idea of telling him — of risking that dynamic — makes Will hesitate.

And so, you’ve kept it quiet.

It’s not always easy. Especially at moments like this, when you’re at the same party, standing in the same room, but you have to pretend you don’t want to be near him. That you don’t want to walk over there and run your fingers through his hair, tug him closer, and press your lips to the spot just below his jaw that always makes him shiver.

Instead, you force yourself to look away, to find a drink, to keep yourself busy. But the weight of his gaze finds you anyway, and when you glance up, Will is already watching.

His expression is unreadable to anyone else, just casual enough to seem normal, but you know better. You see the flicker of longing, the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly around the neck of his beer bottle.

You’re tired of this game — this careful balancing act of stolen glances and unspoken words. It’s not that you want to make some grand announcement, but there’s something about tonight, about the way Will looks at you like he’s barely holding himself back, that makes you want to push him just a little.

You take a sip of your drink, letting your gaze sweep the room before landing back on him. Then, deliberately, you tilt your head and let your eyes drop to his lips before flicking back up to his. It’s subtle — just enough for him to catch it.

Will straightens almost imperceptibly, his fingers flexing around his beer bottle.

You bite back a grin.

You turn on your heel and weave through the party, lingering in conversations just long enough to be seen. You laugh at something one of the girls says, throwing your head back slightly, knowing full well Will is watching.

And when you lean in to talk to Collin — just innocent conversation, nothing more — you don’t miss the way Will shifts where he stands. The way his jaw ticks.

You’re halfway to reaching Cat when Will suddenly steps in front of you.

“Hey,” Will says casually, too casually.

He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your face, the scent of his cologne completely enveloping you. “Hey yourself.”

His eyes flick over your shoulder to Collin, expression neutral but you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow and the way his shoulders stiffen. “Didn’t know you and Ryan were so close,” Will remarks, taking a slow sip of his beer.

“We’re not,” you reply, feigning innocence. “We were just talking.”

Will hums, unconvinced. “Sure.”

You tilt your head, leaning just a fraction closer, just to mess with him. “Why?” you ask, voice low, teasing. “Something wrong?”

He meets your gaze, and for a second, you think he’s going to cave — that he’s going to say screw it and kiss you right here, right now.

But then, instead of giving in, Will’s hand closes firmly around your wrist.

“Come with me,” he mutters under his breath, barely giving you time to react before he’s tugging you through the crowd.

You stumble slightly, caught off guard, but quickly regain your footing as he pulls you down a hallway. The noise from the party dims the farther you go until Will reaches the door to the bathroom and pushes it open, ushering you inside.

Before you can make a smart comment, the door clicks shut behind you, and Will turns to face you, his expression tight, controlled. “Are you having fun?” he asks, voice low, rough.

You blink, caught between amusement and curiosity. “Excuse me?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You know exactly what I mean.”

You cross your arms, tilting your head slightly. “If you’re asking if I’m enjoying the party, then yeah, it’s been great.”

“Cut the crap,” he says, stepping closer. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

Your brows lift. “Teasing?” You scoff. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Will lets out a short, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Bullshit. The looks, the little smirks, leaning into Collin like that—” He stops himself, exhaling through his nose. “You’re trying to get a rise out of me.”

You shrug, biting back a grin. “I don’t know, Will. Sounds like you’re the one making a big deal out of nothing.”

His eyes darken, stepping closer and forcing your back against the counter. “You think this is funny?” he murmurs, voice dropping.

Your heart stutters, but you keep your expression neutral. “I think you’re overreacting.”

Will shakes his head, exhaling heavily. His hands press into the counter on either side of you, caging you in. “You can’t do that,” he mutters, eyes locked onto yours.

“Do what?” you challenge, tilting your chin up.

He leans in, lips barely an inch from yours, voice barely more than a whisper. “Make me want you when I can’t do anything about it.”

Your breath catches, but before you can say anything, he pulls back slightly, running a hand over his face. “Macklin can’t find out,” he reminds you, and there’s something almost desperate in his tone.

You exhale, shaking your head. “I don’t think he’d mind as much as you think.”

Will lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re kidding, right? He’s your little brother. He’s my teammate. He’s protective as hell.”

“I know my own brother, Will,” you counter. “And yeah, he might be a little weird about it at first, but once he sees how much you mean to me — how much we mean to each other — he’d get over it. He’d probably be happy for us.”

Will’s jaw tightens like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. He just stares at you, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

You reach up, fingers grazing his forearm. “You’re the only one making this harder than it needs to be.”

He swallows, his hand lifting to cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek. It’s so gentle, so at odds with the tension crackling in the air between you. His forehead drops to yours for a beat, and you can feel the unspoken words sitting heavy between you both.

And then, finally, he exhales, shaking his head with a reluctant smirk. “You drive me crazy.”

You grin. “Good.”

And then, before he can say anything else, you close the distance.

The second your lips meet, Will exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. His hands move down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kisses you, slow and deep, like he’s making up for all the times he’s had to hold back.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low groan from his throat. It sends a thrill down your spine, and you press closer, letting yourself get lost in him. The party outside fades away, nothing but muffled voices and music in the background.

It’s just you and Will, finally allowing yourselves this moment.

Will’s lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers, “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, Smitty, can you stop macking on my sister? I gotta take a piss.”

Macklin’s voice comes through clear as day, making the both of you freeze.

Will pulls back like he’s been electrocuted, eyes wide in panic. His grip on you loosens instantly, and he looks at you, then the door, like he’s calculating how fast he can escape.

You, on the other hand, are struggling to hold back laughter. Because of course this is how Macklin finds out. Not through some well-planned conversation where you gently break the news, but by catching Will mid-makeout session with his sister in a damn bathroom.

The knocking starts up again, more insistent this time.

“Come on, man,” Macklin groans. “Just open the damn door before I start thinking you two are doing more than just making out.”

Will lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a whimper, running a hand down his face. “I’m actually going to throw up.”

You bite your lip, reaching for the doorknob. “Well, there’s no getting out of this now.”

Will doesn’t move, still staring at the door like it’s a portal to his impending doom. You take pity on him, squeezing his hand quickly before turning the handle. The door swings open, revealing Macklin standing there, arms crossed, expression mostly unimpressed.

“Hey Mack!” you say brightly, like not a single thing is out of the ordinary. Will moves behind you, almost as if he’s using you as a barrier between him and Macklin.

Macklin’s eyes flick between the two of you before he just sighs, shaking his head like he’s already too exhausted to deal with this. “Are you guys done?” he deadpans. “Because, seriously, I really need to piss.”

Will blinks, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to form words but failing spectacularly. You, on the other hand, just fold your arms, tilting your head at your brother.

“That’s all you have to say?” Will blurts out, voice strangled.

“What do you want me to say? You want me to scream at you for making out with my sister? Beat the shit out of you?” Macklin snorts at his own comments. “Come on. I’m not an idiot. I’ve known something was up for a while.”

Will finally finds his voice, clearing his throat. “Wait—what?”

Macklin rolls his eyes, stepping past both of you and toward the toilet. “Dude, you’re not as slick as you think you are. The little looks across the room? The ‘accidental’ hand brushes? I mean seriously it makes me want to puke.”

Will is still standing there like he’s buffering, his brain trying to process this information in real time.

You bite back a laugh. “So, you don’t have a problem with the two of us?”

“I mean… why would I?” Macklin asks. “I know you. I know him. Do I love thinking about one of my best friends making out with my sister? No. But you’re both adults, and Will’s a good guy. As long as you’re happy, I don’t care.”

“I told you he wouldn’t care,” you say, smug.

Will doesn’t even bother responding to your comment, exhaling sharply and dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong — if you mess this up, I’ll have to kick your ass,” Macklin adds.

His gaze sharpens just enough that Will instinctively straightens. “Noted.”

Macklin nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, can you two please get out because I actually have to piss.”

You laugh, grabbing Will’s hand and pulling him out the door before Macklin kicks it shut behind the two of you. Will still looks mildly stunned, but you squeeze his fingers, shooting him a reassuring smile.

You nudge him. “See? Told you. Nothing to worry about.”

Will exhales, looking at you with something between relief and disbelief. “I think I need another beer.”

You grin, lacing your fingers through his. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate your survival.”

He lets you pull him back toward the party, still shaking his head, muttering under his breath, “I cannot believe I lost sleep over this.”

[thewinter-eden]

Insecurity Texts QUESTION

This question requires class participation in the comments AND the poll :)

EDITED

Hannie's Insecurity Texts were the first Fake Texts I've ever done (obviously) and I know they're shorter and not [especially engaging] not as fleshed out as I would like them to be. I fully realize they're literally the worst ones which hurts my heart because he's my guy :( They're not "the worst"!! It was unkind of me to say that to all of you who were so encouraging/excited about it and unkind to myself. I just wish I had written more of the story than I did :)

Should I move the current Han Jisung // Insecurity Texts into like a demo category and rewrite a full/new/different version? Yes/no? Would you want the same Insecurity (intimidated by his actual magnitude goddamn) or would you be interested in something different? Would you like to see a longer version or would you be bored by reading the same story a second time?

Thank you all for your encouragement and for being so dang kind--I really humbled myself on this one. Shouldn't have let my insecurity get the better of me ha-ha-ha (ironic). Love you guys!!

tag list : @amarecerasus @kumariiai @diekleinesuesse @captainchrisstan @0omillo0 @katexstay @younggwingss @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @feetoffthemalfoy @seungminsapuppy @stilldontknowhoiam @hanadulsetaad @idiotmaterial @micr0c0soms @luvv1anime @imeverycliche @luvv1anime @starygw3n @depressedarlling @riri53 @bangchansgirlsblog @skzstannie @sellomaybe @lailac13 @my-neurodivergent-world @4ng3l-ch1ld @ellelabelle @velvetmoonlght @whokno-ows @ravengxbss @brbwritingfanfic @dearbisky @r1nstaaa @dolphin-scream-s @beewilko @nightshadeblooming @wickedbutlovely @ebnabi @thatgirlangelb @notastraykid @ka0ila @scarlet789 @nightshadeblooming @xdbug-bob @blckchrryy @mthebookwyrm @its-stayville-forever @marshmallowtraver @sunlix143 @privatespotyk @mmarusa @stressymessyana @justwonder113

[silverskye13]

Question: What's the RnS casts' last meals if they got to pick?

(The major character death tag got me with the heebie jeebies, lol).

That MCD tag has a lot of folks by the collar it sounds like! Don't let it bully you!

Tanguish: It doesn't matter, as long as he's eating it with friends, but if he absolutely has to pick, he would ask Helsknight to make him something. It will probably be protein heavy, because that's how Helsknight is, but he wants to watch him make something he's proud of with his hands, and then savor it. He'll thank Helsknight profusely. He's a good cook. He knows he's a good cook, right? Keep cooking. Keep making things with your hands. It doesn't all have to be swords. Learn to bake bread. You keep saying you want to learn how. Wait, he's changed his mind. He wants his last meal to be bread, so Helsknight has to learn how. Please? He's allowed to change his mind right? It's his last meal, let him be a little selfish.

Helsknight: Nothing. He's too scared to eat. He might force himself to be brave and drink water, before finding a place to be alone and wait. He's holding his sword. He's too scared to eat. His stomach's in knots. Maybe if he watches hard enough, he can see death coming. Maybe he can still fight it. He's too scared to eat. He's meeting death with his eyes open and his mind alert. He's too scared to eat. He always heard there was supposed to be peace at the end. Why is he scared? Stop being scared. Please. He's hungry. He can't tell what he's hungry for. He's too scared. He needs to be alone right now. He doesn't want to die alone. He needs to hide. Coward. Coward. Don't hide. Face it. Face it. You're a fucking knight for helssakes act like one. His hands are shaking. He can't eat. Gods damnit.

Tango: Shoot you're kidding right? It's not that serious! You're serious? Don't-- with the face. Stop. It's fine. Uh. Something good. Aren't last meals for criminals or something? He hasn't done anything wrong. Uh. Sorry. You were asking a serious question. Steak and potatoes. Is that cliche? It sounds cliche. It sounds good though. Medium rare. Let him host the barbeque. Don't tell anyone, it's fine. Just as long as it tastes good. Don't overcook the steak. It'll be nice to see everyone together one last time. If they actually get together. Yeah they probably... Won't. They're all... Busy. Should he tell them? They would get together if he told them. ... He... Doesn't want that to be the reason they get together.

Welsknight: Gods, you're asking him like he's thought about this. This isn't supposed to be a problem he -- anyone -- has. This isn't how the world is supposed to work. What do you mean, just answer the question? It's his last meal! He's allowed to be a little angry! He's not even dying for something worthwhile. Gods. Gods. {huff... huff...} Is it stupid that he kind of wants cake? Something sweet and lighthearted to take the edge off. That's not really a meal but... Come on. He's having a rough day, alright? He wants cake. With fruit on top. Strawberries maybe. Strawberry shortcake, something that tastes like summer and hope. Make it a meal. He'll do hotdogs and chips and his stupid cake, and he'll have a sunny afternoon to do it in. Is that too much to ask for? A sunny afternoon? It's a part of his last meal. An important part. He needs something to hope for. Everyone does.

EB: Oh. Hmm. This is awkward. He doesn't technically eat, does he? That's kind of an organic thing, and he's a robot. Can he have a final wish then, instead? He wants to make a hive for his buzzers. Let them live in the Colosseum. It's alright if people forget about him. It'll take time -- his statue in the hall will be glorious. But they will. They won't forget the buzzers though. Not until they break down after long years in the hels heat. Not until theyre all gone and the hive gets taken down for taking up space and someone's precious time. Let the parts of him that loved to fix and build and be busy roam, until they can't roam anymore. Maybe this is the closest a helsmet can get to having a ghost.

Martyn: Oh damn, can he have anything? Get him something exotic and disgusting, probably. He wants to eat shark and crocodile and tiger meat, on a bed of fruits and vegetables he's never seen before, from one of those weird fantasy modpacks. He wants at least three courses, chop chop! It's his last day in hels you know! Make it good. No he's not bloody scared. It's a relief to finally be rid of you idiots, honestly! ... Yes m'lord? He's... Sorry. You can't order him not to leave sir. Can't really control that, can he? Don't look at him like that Red, come on. It's alright. We knew this would happen someday, yeah? Share this stupid meal with him? Please? Don't. Don't cry. Don't cry. You know he can't handle that. Please...

Red: ...... Ah. ......... If ye would... be so kind... as to bring him veal and wine. He would like... rice pilaf, and... peas and carrots. Have it sent to his cell. He would... Like to dine in peace. If ye could... Tell Martyn he has the night to do as he wishes. Suggest perhaps he go do something he enjoys. Tell him... Tell him... To take his time...

[akelafang]

I'm not letting this hide in the tags cause this is gold!

I'm just imaging older Arthur recognising his Merlin from the castle walls and having to convince young Arthur to let him go and talk to "the terrifying sorcerer" so that his overprotective husband doesn't try to tear down Camelot looking for him. Young Arthur's sure he's going to get himself killed if he goes alone and insists that if anyone is going to negotiate with a threat to his kingdom it should be him. In the end both Arthurs and young Merlin go to talk to the scary sorcerer banging on the gates. As soon as older Merlin sees his Arthur all traces of terrifying elder deity Emrys disappear as he starts yelling at his dollophead of a husband for getting himself cursed and making him worry! Young Arthur bluescreens as he registers that not only is the sorcerer causing all this havoc Merlin but also how hot he is. Young Merlin is on the verge of having a breakdown as he starts to put the pieces together. Older Arthur's quipping back but he can't keep the smitten look off his face. His husband's sexy when he's worked up, sue him.

Golden Age King Arthur accidentally gets sent back in time to the beginning of his reign. While making his way to Camelot hoping to find Merlin and figure out how to get back to his own time he runs into Agravaine making his own way to Camelot for the first time. Knowing he was a traitor working for Morgana in his own timeline, Arthur kills him and decides to take his place. No one had seen Agravaine since Ygraine's death, there were no portraits of him in the castle, and Arthur's premature greying hair has to be good for something other than Merlin calling him a silver fox. He can pass as his own uncle and be the caring advisor that young him deserved damn it!

[heartstringsduet]

Happy Wednesday folks. Not sure I will write much kid fic but also, this happened so let's see if I finish the interim title 'praise fic'

The first drawing TK finds folded wonkily and shoved into Jonah’s sock drawer, is of a dinosaur -- but with two heads. It’s adorable. The side of their fridge is full of Jonah’s artwork, and the notes he and Carlos leave each other. It’s like an exhibition that changes bit by bit, with mostly three observers. This one with the folds, TK puts into his wallet to make him smile when he isn’t home.

Carlos finds a second drawing a week later. “Look,” he says, unwrapping the paper he pulls out from underneath the couch cushion. His eyes light up and it’s the most wholesome and sexiest sight in the universe. “Aw, baby, I think it’s you.”

He turns it around and it’s a stick figure with eight straight hairs poking out of a round head. A white uniform and a red cross on his clothes and the box he holds. He slides into the space designed for his body, Carlos’ arm folding automatically around the back of his hip while hs cheek meets Carlos’ shoulder.

“Picture books really should feature more paramedics over doctors, huh?”

Carlos chuckles.“Remember when he drew me at work though?”

“You were all hat!”

"And legs!"

OPEN TAG &

<p> @carlossreaders @annoyingcloudearthquake

@carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @future-tense  </p>

<p> @paperstorm @strandnreyes @henrygrass @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes </p>

<p> @lemonlyman-dotcom @theghostofashton @ladytessa74 @freneticfloetry </p>

<p> @liminalmemories21 @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @neverblooms</p>

<p> @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @alrightbuckaroo @decafdino @liminalmemories21

</p>

<p> @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter @literateowl @reyesstrand </p>

<p> @butchreyes @corsage @honeybee-taskforce @orchidscript </p>

<p> @never-blooms @irispurpurea @everlastingday @theghostofashton </p>

<p> @nisbanisba @bonheur-cafe @certifiedflower @firstprince-history-huh @denizoid </p>

<p> @nancys-braids @chicgeekgirl89 @ironheartwriter @pimento-playing-hopscotch </p>

<p> @rangersoup @the-126-family @carlos-tk @ladyknight1512 @onswiftshorses

</p>

<p> @whatsintheboxmh  @thisbuildinghasfeelings </p>

[cece693]

I really loved the silent but angry reader with hannigram!! would it be possible to request a part 2? Maybe something where the reader finally snaps and like- beats someone up or something? idk lol Thank you for your time and your writing!

On The Tip of Your Tongue Pt. 2

pairing: hannigram x male reader tags: reader doesn't care about what's said about him but when it comes to his lovers, phew, just phew, guard dog, altercation, hannigram finding it unnecessary but sweet, you showing people they're wrong

A week after that peaceful evening at Hannibal's home, you found yourself back in the maze of FBI corridors—late at night, subdued fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. It should have been a routine debrief, but Agent Lange had a knack for turning even mundane situations into confrontations. His favorite pastime: picking at your silence.

By now, you’d grown skilled at blocking his barbed comments about you—he never seemed worth the trouble. But the moment he made Hannibal or Will the targets, every fiber in your body tensed like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

The trouble started in the break room, of all places. You were rinsing out a coffee mug while Will stood nearby, silently reading through case files. Hannibal was down the hall, finishing an impromptu consultation. Agent Lange sidled in, a smug half-smile plastered on his face. He began with a low mutter, obviously wanting you to overhear. “Doesn’t say much, does he?” Lange said to no one in particular, though his eyes never left you. “Probably thinks he’s too good for the rest of us.”

Will glanced up, brow furrowing. “Cut it out, Lange,” he warned, voice quiet but firm.

Lange scoffed. “Oh, look, Graham is here to defend his little buddy.” He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, then smirked. “What, you guys have some kind of arrangement with that doctor of yours? Must be real cozy, you three. Freak show if you ask me—Doctor Lecter with his fancy dinners and you, Graham, with your messed-up head. Not sure what he—” Lange shot you an assessing look “—sees in a pair of psychos.”

Your grip on the mug tightened until your knuckles turned white. You could handle insults directed at you alone. But calling Hannibal a freak—calling Will messed up—that was a line no one should ever cross.

Will started to step forward, frustration rippling in the set of his jaw. “I’m warning you, Lange—”

But Lange just kept on. “Warner from Accounting told me the three of you even share a place sometimes,” he sneered, letting out a low, mocking laugh. “That’s a real nice arrangement. Guess all the weirdos have to stick together, huh?”

In that moment, your heart pounded so loudly in your ears that you barely registered Will reaching for your arm or Hannibal appearing in the doorway. All you knew was that Lange had just gone after the two people you loved most, spat insults that made your blood boil. Before Will could hold you back, you lunged at Lange, slamming him against the countertop before grabbing him by the collar.

“Don't you ever talk about them like that,” you growled, voice trembling with fury.

Lange’s hand shot up to shove you away. Big mistake. You seized his wrist, twisting just enough to yank him off balance. Then your fist crashed into his jaw, the impact ringing through your arm. Lange staggered, barely staying on his feet. There was a collective gasp from the few agents who’d been unlucky enough to witness the altercation. Hannibal’s calm, cool voice cut through the air—firm, yet oddly soothing. “(Y/N). Enough.”

But Lange, spitting blood from a split lip, couldn’t let it go. “They’re both messed up in the head,” he snarled, glaring at you. “They deserve—” You lost all sense of caution. With a furious snarl, you shoved Lange so hard he stumbled into the table, sending files and coffee cups flying. He tried swinging at you, but you easily dodged, landing a swift, punishing blow to his ribs.

Will’s arms locked around your torso, hauling you backward. “(Y/N), stop!” he ordered, breath tight.

Still seething, you struggled for a second, your gaze locked on Lange’s crumpled form. Hannibal stepped in front of Lange, effectively blocking him from view, placing himself between you both. For a heartbeat, you saw a flash of something like approval in Hannibal’s eyes—gone in an instant, replaced by measured concern.

A tense hush fell over the break room. Lange groaned, pressing a hand to his side, shooting you a hateful glare. Will released you slowly, scanning your face for any sign of lingering rage. “Hey,” he whispered, “breathe.”

You inhaled shakily, your fury still smoldering beneath the surface. “He insulted you,” you spat, voice hoarse. You glared over Will’s shoulder toward Lange. “Both of you. He had no right.”

Hannibal stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. You could feel the gentle pressure, calming like a steady pulse. “That’s quite enough for tonight,” he said in that refined, even tone. Then, turning a cold gaze on Lange, he added softly, “You would do well to keep further opinions to yourself.”

Lange, nursing his bruised jaw, spat out an obscenity but didn’t press his luck. One look at Will, still standing protectively in front of you, made him think twice. He shoved a chair aside and stumbled out of the room, muttering threats about filing a report.

The ride back to Hannibal’s home was drowned in thick, static tension. You sat in the back seat, staring out the window with your jaw tight, chest still heaving from residual anger. Will occupied the passenger seat, arms folded, gaze flicking every so often to the rearview mirror where Hannibal’s impassive face reflected back. No one spoke a word. The hum of the engine and the occasional hiss of tires on wet pavement were the only sounds.

By the time the car pulled up to the stately brick home, the air felt electric. Hannibal parked with his usual precision, and you exited wordlessly, your lovers flanking you on either side. You stepped into the foyer, your breath still shallow from the surge of adrenaline. Hannibal immediately ushered you toward the kitchen with gentle but insistent pressure on your lower back.

“Sit,” he instructed, voice low and calm in that familiar, cultured way. “Let me see your hands.”

Will leaned against the marble island, arms crossed, watching as Hannibal carefully took hold of your bruised knuckles. You winced when he turned on the faucet, letting cool water run across torn skin. For a moment, Hannibal focused solely on rinsing away dried blood. Once satisfied, he turned off the tap and reached for antiseptic and gauze. His eyebrows knit in that slight, discerning frown he wore when studying a patient—or a lover, in need of care.

“You truly did a number on him,” Will commented quietly, pushing off the counter. He walked over, eyes flicking between your injured hands and your tense expression. “Not that he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a slow, shaky breath, finally speaking for the first time since leaving the FBI. “He insulted you,” you said, voice hoarse with lingering fury. “I could’ve handled the things he said about me. But about you two? I couldn’t just stand there.”

Will’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “We’re not exactly fragile, you know. We didn’t need you to defend us.”

Hannibal cast Will a knowing glance but addressed you. “However, that does not mean we didn’t appreciate it,” he said, carefully affixing the final piece of gauze. His eyes flicked up to yours, a subtle heat behind them. “Or find it intriguing.”

“Hot, actually,” Will added, stepping closer. The corners of his mouth lifted in a hint of a grin that bordered on playful. “Watching you lose your temper like that…seeing you go from silent to lethal in a heartbeat. I can’t pretend it wasn’t a little—” he cleared his throat, “arousing.”

You felt your face flush at Will’s admission. His candor took some of the edge off your anger, replacing it with a wave of self-conscious heat. Hannibal’s expression betrayed no surprise—if anything, a knowing gleam lit his dark eyes. He folded your freshly bandaged hand into both of his, pressing a light kiss to your wrist.

“That flash of violence,” he said quietly, “while I don’t endorse needless brutality, I do find it befitting of you. That anger in your eyes, the way you allowed for it to consume you was beautiful."

You swallowed hard, letting your gaze flick from Hannibal to Will. “But I— I nearly lost control.”

Will’s voice dropped lower, tinged with empathy and something else. “He had it coming. Besides, we would've stopped you before it really became a problem."

Despite the swirling emotions—anger, relief, lingering adrenaline—warmth spread through your chest. You exhaled the breath you’d been holding. The raw edges of your temper began to soften, replaced by a comforting sense of belonging. “Next time,” you said, voice low, “I’ll try to give you a little warning before I snap.”

Will’s mouth quirked in amusement. “Sure,” he teased. “Even if it’s just a look—anything to let us know you’re about to unleash hell, so we can pull up a chair and enjoy.”

A gentle chuckle rumbled in Hannibal’s chest. He raised your bandaged hand to his lips again, pressing a second kiss to the gauze, an oddly chivalrous gesture. “If there is a next time,” he said, his dark eyes glinting with sincerity, “we’ll be right at your side. Not because we need the defense but because we relish your fervor.”

That final declaration, spoken in Hannibal’s cultured tone, cradled in Will’s soft laugh, was enough to steal the last vestiges of your anger. You let yourself sink into the moment—the quiet acceptance, the shared heat, and the unwavering knowledge that, here, you were safe to be exactly as you were.