#I wish I lived in a bigger place so I could have a room just for my non cat pets

[animalcuckllective]

I would love a big pet lizard. Once I don't have any cats I might get a pet skink or something. Something big and cute.

[writersmess]

DEATH WISH LOVE | EVAN BUCKLEY

gif credit

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Buck never thought he could love someone like that. Especially not someone with the same death wish love as him.

Warning: Anxiety crisis, near-death experience, hospital, crying, ansgt.

Word count: 2.5K

a/n: My God, I can't believe it's taken me over a year to get back. I missed this place so much. It's been an intense, crazy year. I finally got my dream job at the best hospital in Latin America. I'm so happy, but at the same time it's demanded everything of me, working long shifts almost every day, but its the price I have to pay. I hope you like this one, it was based on the song Death Wish Love by Benson Boone, which as soon as I heard it I immediately imagined something with our dear Buck. I confess I thought I'd do something angsty, but I don't think I have that capacity, he already suffers so much that I just wanted him to have a happy ending this time.

Masterlist

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You were the new firefighter in 118, and also new to the city. In order to follow your dreams, you left your hometown with everyone and everything you knew. You craved for bigger things, you wanted the big city, you wanted Los Angeles.

The team welcomed you with open arms, which was unusual to you. You weren’t used to this or neither known by your affectionate gestures, but apparently everything was an excuse for a hug at the station. It was a bit hard to get used to all this affection, especially when you came from a place where you were always by yourself.

That was one of the main reasons you became a firefighter, you have walked through fire every single day of your life, why not make it your profession?

You were a source of curiosity between the team, always so quiet and so resistant to everyone's affection. It was hard to win you over. Especially because you had a rather difficult personality, you were fearless at work, you weren't afraid to go into the fire to save lives, you did it without thinking twice.

To Bobby you were a cause of concern, and sometimes the reason why he was having trouble sleeping. He knew this personality very well. It was the same one he had struggled for years to learn to deal with, the one he had to fight with so many times, he was very familiar with this death wish love, it was the same as Buck’s.

The blue-eyed man on the other side, couldn't understand why he couldn't take his eyes off you. Ever since you arrived a few months ago, your image has been running through Buck’s mind. You've become a challenge for him. But not in a bad way, he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to understand you. But you didn't make things any easier for him, especially when today was the first time he'd seen you laugh.

"You're drooling" he snapped back to reality when he heard Eddie mocking next to him.

"Shut up" Buck said, turning his gaze back to you playing with his niece.

You had a beauty he couldn't explain, an angelic one. You had this steely gaze and looking at you felt like suicide. He would fall to his knees if you asked him to. How could someone so delicate also be so dangerous?

The way you were reluctant to follow Bobby's orders, you'd walk into the fire without a second thought. You would take risks without thinking about your own safety, just thinking about everyone else. He saw how hard you worked, he saw how mad Bobby got when he ordered the building to be evacuated and you were always the last one to leave. You were intriguing and he was fascinated.

It was so strange for you. Being in Maddie's living room, with everyone gathered together like a big family, laughing and telling funny stories. The team met once a week, with all the families together, the children running around the living room, the smell of food in the air, the voices, the laughter.

You accepted the invitation after a few months of refusing, and now you spent the week looking forward to the moment when you would be together again.

Sometimes when you got home from a meeting, you cried. You cried because you never had that, you never had anyone who cared about you. You were an unexpected pregnancy, your parents didn't planned you, they didn't want you and that was never a secret to anyone.

And that's why you were surprised when one day you arrived early at the station and Hen had a cake for you that you had once said reminded of what your grandmother used to bake.

Or when another one Eddie handed you a drawing that Chris made specifically for you. Of the two of you playing together.

Or when Maddie sent you, through Chim, the cookies you said you loved one day while you were having coffee together.

Or when Bobby invited you to have lunch with him and Athena on a Sunday ‘cause he knew you were going to do it alone.

Or when Buck gave you a book he'd heard you say was your favorite during a conversation.

*

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Your hands were shaking, your heart pounding. The words your father had once spoken echoed in your mind. "You will never be loved". But you were at a table with 118's entire family, and you felt loved. Maddie told you about the gossip from her work. Karen hugged you from the side every time you passed by her. Hen included you in every conversation. Athena calmly answered all the questions you were curious about her work. So why did you feel like an imposter? Why was your father's voice echoing inside your head? Why were you on the verge of an anxiety attack?

"I'll be right back" you muttered to the girls, but you realized how shaky your voice sounded. You were pathetic.

You barely made it to the bathroom, your legs buckled and you sat down in the corner of the room. You could hardly breathe, it was hard to pull in the air. Tears streamed down your face. Your heart was racing. Your hands were shaking.

You heard your voice being called from outside. Damn. You couldn't calm down, your hand was on your chest as if it could make the pain go away.

"Hey, hey. I'm here. Calm down, I’ve got you" it was Buck.

His voice was just a whisper in your ear. You let a sob escape your lips. Pathetic. You felt his arms around you, until you were all wrapped up in his arms. Why was he doing that? Why did he care?

He stayed there until you stopped crying. You were still in his arms, and it was so warm, so safe. Sighs came from your lips, and you couldn't imagine what a mess Buck's head and heart were in. He wanted you in his arms, not just now.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, so you stayed.

"You don't have to talk about what's going on in there, but the day you feel like you need a hug to cry into, you've got mine" your eyes filled with tears again. "And don't ever apologize for it"

*

The smiles on your lips were becoming constant. And it was Buck's favorite image. You were letting people through your armor, you were letting your guard down, and it felt good. You now baked pies and cakes for the station on your days off, recipes learned from the girls after a few long afternoons of chatting and coffee.

Your laughter was contagious, and the boys would always crack little jokes to get them out of you.

Your eyes were now looking out for a pair of blue ones, all the time, everywhere. Eyes that were always looking back at you. Your hands were always looking for an excuse to bump into Buck's, just to feel that shiver run down your spine every time. And he would find any reason to text you, until the excuses became routine. You woke up every day with a good morning message and went to bed with a good night one. The little touches now became big gestures, Buck loved to brush your hair out of your face and tuck them behind your ear. And you loved to run your hand over the birthmark above his eye. You loved when his warm lips traveled up your neck to your lips. You loved when his hands ran over your body always so slowly and so gently, bringing goosebumps wherever they went. You loved making love with him. How he worshiped your body, how much he worshiped you. The way he made you feel loved.

You had a hold on Buck, and you didn't even know it. He had become attached to you, attached to the idea of having you by his side. The nights with you were the ones he could truly rest in, the mornings where he woke up to your soft kisses on his face, were the ones he would keep forever in his mind.

But he could feel that you were still resisting his feelings, and he was terrified of losing you. Buck was in love with you. It took months for him to realize that, but he did it. He loved you.

But one thing has never changed. And as Buck followed the loud murmurs coming from Bobby’s office, where he knew you were at, he kept in mind the danger you were in at every call. He couldn't lose you.

"Hey, what happe-" he couldn't finish the sentence when he saw you walking out the door, since you brushed past him, bumping into his shoulder, without even looking him in the face.

Buck made his way to the room, where he saw his captain wiping his hands across his face, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"She'll end up dead if she keep acting like this, Buck"

"I know"

"After the last call, if she doesn't change her behavior, I'll be forced to suspend her."

"I know."

Buck couldn't lose you.

You couldn't talk to Buck yet, you were so nervous after your conversation with Bobby. You were trying your best, how could he tell you that you had a death wish love? You were saving lives, and it didn't matter if it cost you your own. You didn't care.

A new call ecoed through the station. It was something big. A fire in a shed. People were working at the time, so there were many likely victims. You were anxious, just as you were before any call, but you were ready for it. You were born ready.

"Be careful," Buck told you before you got off the truck and you nodded. You were always careful "I love you"

You turned surprised to Buck, you'd never said that to each other before. It disconcerted you.

"Buck, I-"

Before you could say anything, you heard Bobby calling you to give instructions and you had to run.

I love you.

The words echoed in your head as you entered the burning building. No one had ever said that to you. You didn't even know the weight those words carried.

"Sir, follow this path and the fireman will take you to the exit."

It was so hot. You'd already lost count of how many people you'd pulled out of the line of fire. Your head was heavy. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Evacuate the building now," you could hear Cap saying over the radio. Everyone agreed and gave their location. You were about to respond when you heard something.

It was a call for help.

You could have sworn it was a call for help.

"Captain, I'm in the east side, I hear someone screaming for help. I'm close, I can get them out"

"Negative, the building will collapse at any moment. Get out immediately"

Your vision was blurred.

I love you.

You couldn't go out and leave those people to die, so you went ahead. The way to the door was difficult, there was a lot of rubble, and when you opened it, you froze in place.

It was empty. The fire danced in front of you, mocking you. But the cries for help... you've never been so wrong before.

I love you.

“It’s empty” you murmured at the radio.

Bobby was shouting your name from the other end of the radio. You turned around, but it was so hard to breathe. You tried to find your way back, but everything was spinning. Buck was now calling your name.

I love you.

His words were running through your head. Your steps were now slow. The way out, you couldn't find the way out. You could hear the fire laughing at you. Stupid. Pathetic. You heard an explosion behind you, and it threw you off balance, bringing you to the ground. You'd been walking through fire all your life, and now it would finally take its place back. Your siren buzzed in your ears. That would be the end of you.

I love you too, Buck.

The moment Buck came out of the building and didn't see you outside, he tried to go back. But hands held him in place.

This couldn't be happening. No, no.

Bobby called your name on the radio and you didn't answer. It's empty. That was the last answer they got. You weren't answering. An explosion. On the east side, where you were.

Buck's knees gave way, and he went down. All eyes were on the exit of the building waiting for you, waiting for a miracle. But it never came.

Buck screamed, and he would scream until his lungs gave up.

Time seemed to stop. Buck's screams were the only noise to be heard. And another explosion. Tears rolled down trough some faces. No one could believe it. This couldn't be happening.

Buck couldn't lose you like this.

"We found her" some voice echoed over the radio.

Buck's heart could stop any second now.

But the building was collapsing.

He broke free from his friends and ran into the building, dodging all the fallen and burnt obstacles, and he saw you. You were in the arms of a fireman. He ran up to you and carried you out of the building. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the building collapsed. Buck held you in his arms with all his strength and ran, feeling the debris fly past you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" was the first thing that came out of your lips when he put you on the stretcher and he shut you up, pressing his lips to yours.

Buck analyzed each of your wounds alongside Hen and Chim and you could see the tears streaming down Buck's face, the ones that were also streaming down your own.

You were still struggling to breathe, every inch of your body ached, and you felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Until you succumbed to the darkness that was calling your name.

*

You woke up a few hours later in hospital. Your hands were being squeezed and you could feel something wet running down over them. Tears.

Buck had his face in your hands, he had never felt so afraid before. And when he heard your voice calling him, it was as if he could finally breathe.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I-I don't know what happened-"

"I almost lost you today"

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You did this to him, your recklessness, your impulsive behavior. It was your fault.

"I'm sorry"

Tears were now streaming down your face and he moved closer, running his hands gently down your cheeks.

"I was terrified of losing you. I'd die if I do."

"I would never leave you"

"Promise?"

"I love you, Buck. And I'll love you to death"

"Please don't let it be soon"

You smiled. No one had ever loved you like that.

"It won't."

[tardis--dreams]

I know it's Jammern auf hohem Niveau, but god i wish i had some shelves or any other pieces of furniture where i could put my stuff. Currently everything i don't use at a given moment is on the floor or the bed and it's so frustrating because it makes my apartment look even more untidy than it already is

[covetyou]

ghosted

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (satisfyer "glowing ghost"), unprotected P in V, creampie, oral (f receiving), reader loves floor time (so does Joel), angst (but we fix it), some anxiety/depression adjacent things. word count: 5751 summary: As spring moves into summer, the only thing you're wishing for is to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on. But, by the time the end of May is on the horizon, the time between still isn't enough - You haven't forgotten, and you haven't moved on.

A/N: thank you to everyone still sticking with this sporadic-installment-series-that-was-never-meant-to-be-a-series. our next visit to these two will be 4th July in stars and stripes, but until then, enjoy 💛

(and yes I know I am technically later than planned with this for non Americas folk - I couldn't get the ending to my liking until suddenly I could, and now its gone midnight. whoops!)

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If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, it was safe to say the opposite was true too.

You weren't having fun, and time was well and truly crawling by at a snails pace.

That wasn't for lack of trying. In recent weeks you'd spent more time out of the house than you ever had - lunch with friends, drinks with colleagues, solo trips to bookstores and farmers markets. There was barely a moment of time you hadn't filled with something.

It was probably a shitty coping mechanism, all things considered, but it was the best you had. You couldn't quite bring yourself to confide in anyone your secret shame of letting a stranger into your house and touch you like he belonged there. The even bigger shame of living in a place for so very long and not knowing how the door worked, not knowing the stranger was your neighbor, being so very consumed in your own life - woe is you - that you didn't bother paying attention to the lives of the people around you. So, you kept on willing the passage of time, and filling every moment you could with distractions.

It wasn't that you were usually one for wishing time away. A slow, warm spring before the blazing heat of summer consumed everything would usually be a good thing - even better now that you'd lived and experienced your first Texas summer and were soon to have your second.

What you were really wishing for was to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on.

As it was, by the time the end of May was on the horizon, the time between still wasn't enough. Almost two months to the day, and it still ached and burned in you just as much as it always had, if not more. The embarrassment and shame of not knowing how to work a fucking lock was one thing, the fear of the danger you'd put yourself in was another. Then there was the sadness, the loss, the unexpected emptiness at losing something you weren't even sure you had to begin with. And then, in more recent weeks, was the longing.

And you didn't want to feel any of it.

When Memorial Day Weekend eventually rolls around, the blossoming heat of summer keeping you indoors, you lie there on your living room floor, a fan blowing not quite cool enough air across your sweaty body until a knock at the door disturbs the patterns your eyes were tracing on the ceiling.

The dimness in your vision doesn't go away, even as you blink away the dust and try to get your eyes to adjust. The sun had set, apparently. It wasn't completely dark just yet, but dark enough to cast the lower level of your home in shadow, and you hadn't even noticed. You technically had plans today - plans that had now gone to shit, much like everything else.

Hauling yourself from the ground, you unlock your door, no thought or care of who could be on the other side of it, because one thing was certain - it wouldn't be Joel. You'd lost hope of that weeks ago. Each time you opened it with a fools hope in your mind, you were instead handed a delivery and told to have a good day as you stared out into the street, disappointed that it was only a clitty-blaster-3000, or a new blender, and not Joel.

You mindlessly pull open the door, expecting to be handed a package you hadn't ordered, or to even see a friendly face coming to pull you out for plans you agreed to but didn't really want to do.

But there he is. Two months later - but not too late, you don't think - and entirely out of the blue. Nervous hands are thrust into his pockets with his thumbs twitching on the outside of his jeans, standing there like he didn't belong here at all, when everything in your body was screaming he's home.

This was far from the first time you'd seen him since March. The first time was barely three days after you pushed him away. April Fools' Day, of all days. Fitting, you thought, given how much of a fucking fool you felt whenever you remembered everything you'd done, and said, and felt. It turns out he was the owner of the truck you'd seen parked in a drive a little way down the street, father to the little girl you'd seen bounding out of that house so many times before. Neither thing made the hurt in your chest any less, and you'd driven past with a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes.

The same happens now, but you fight them back so you can see more clearly as his mouth twitches into a small smile, making you freeze on the spot. Your mind was already blank, but that freezes too, and you stare at him dumbstruck for a moment so long you're certain a flicker of concern dances across his eyes.

And you could close the door in his face, push him out and away just like you did on that day over two months ago, but you don't. As you come back around, finally letting your brain reconnect with the rest of your body, the only thing you can feel is relief and total utter joy at getting to see him up close again.

There's still shame too. That's been simmering low and mellow in you for so long now that it's fused with your bones - you're not sure you'll ever shake it - but it's the least important thing right now as you stand and look at him, more awkward and uncertain than you've ever seen him.

"Hi."

You're surprised it's you who speaks first, given how dry your mouth is all of a sudden, seeing him up close again and looking as good as, if not better, than he ever has.

"Hey," he says, before clearing his throat. "S'good to see you."

It's a voice you didn't want to forget, but apparently damn near almost had, given the way your body reacts to it. Deep and rumbling, with the slow southern drawl trickling down your spine like honey and settling between your thighs - though in all honesty that might just be sweat. It really is hot in here, worse now that you're standing, and the fan is doing absolutely nothing to help. You look a mess too - your hair, your clothes, your life - but he doesn't seem to mind, and you're grateful, because right now this is as good as you've got.

"Wanted to see how you were doin'. Figured we should talk," he says with another soft smile.

Stepping aside, you give him a small nod as you silently invite him into your home for the first time. Which should be funny, given the unknown number of times he's been through this door, but you're not ready to laugh about any of it just yet.

When the door closes behind him, it's soft and gentle, barely audible over the fan blasting warm air at you, and you wonder if it's always like that. If he's always quiet as a mouse, and you always too oblivious to notice - between the two of you, you didn't stand a hope in hell in figuring it all out until it was too late and blew up in your face. Now, here you are, egg on your face, the heat in the room not helping the heat in your cheeks, trying desperately not to send him away when you've just invited him in.

It would be easier if it all still felt like a dream, but it didn't. That had changed.

Joel had never been much of a normal man in your mind. He was more of a fantasy come to life. A fantasy that was slowly building into something more and more real with each encounter. Even now, stood in normal shoes, wearing a normal t-shirt, and even more normal jeans - just Some Guy by anybodies standard - he looks as beautiful and fantastic as ever.

"Wanted to talk to you sooner. Wanted to leave it up to you given - y'know. Everythin'. Didn't want you to think I was just bargin' in all the time when it was convenient for me," he says, this very normal man already making you feel both silly and elated that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. Obviously you could have gone to him first. You just couldn't do it. You almost had so many times, but the twist of your key in the door would twist something in the pit of your stomach too, and you'd stop before you even made it out the house.

You knew why. It was always the same thing. You didn't want to talk - not ever. You just wanted things to be okay, or not, and go on with your life. It was one of those childish things you had your mom to thank for - she wasn't great at talking about the important thing either.

The difference now was Joel. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to work out everything with him rather than alone in your head. But prior to the door incident, that wasn't what this was and after - well, fuck - after, it seemed that it could have been like that all along but you were too damn late to do anything about it.

"Know you were angry with me - maybe still are - and I -"

"I wasn't angry with you," you blurt out, already aware of the lie the moment it leaves your lips. Joel is too, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "Okay. Yes. It pissed me off - you pissed me off. Happy?"

"No. Never wanted to piss you off, darlin'," he murmurs in return, and you can see that he means it by the way all of him softens, drooping in defeat at your admission.

"I... You embarrassed me, Joel. I feel embarrassed, okay? I feel like a stupid idiot, and I -"

You can already feel it all coming back. The swirling in your head, and the heat creeping up your chest and down your arms, not helped by this sweltering fucking house. It's like fainting, but instead of blacking out, a white hot rage is ready to ignite in you. And of everything, it's the thing you most never want to feel again. You'd take all the sadness, loss, emptiness, and longing of the last two months a million times over if it means you never have to feel this again.

" - and it makes me angry. And I hate feeling like that, like this, and I just couldn't come talk to you because I feel so stupid."

"Woah, darlin', c'mon now, we both know you ain't stupid."

"I don't know how to work a fucking door, Joel. Do you know how long people have had doors?"

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes before starting up again, hoping Joel will take the lead and talk for you first, but he doesn't.

"And I thought we were on the same page. That we were both doing the same silly thing, and it was okay that it was silly and fun, because we were both in on the joke. And... I liked seeing you. I liked it when you were here and it just - it just feels like it was a lie, and what I got out of it isn't what you got out of it. And that's okay, but it still feels stupid. I feel like an idiot, and an asshole, and knowing that you knew so much more about me than I knew about you, I just-"

"Do you want to?" he asks. "Do you wanna get to know me? Just gotta say, and it's done. I want you to know about me - I never meant to hide anythin' from you like that. And I don't want you to be mad, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed, cause the way I see it, we both got shit to be embarrassed about. I was breakin' into your house for months, thinkin' I was invited."

You wince a little, and he just smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders that what's done is done, nonchalance easing your anxiety for the first time ever rather than making it worse.

"I used to stand out there in front of your door and talk to your doorbell like you'd talk back to me any minute," Joel says with a laugh. "Course, now I get that you probably ain't got it hooked up. Never did hear the fuckin' thing ring."

Fuck. Right. Yeah, he's got you there. You'd bought it when you moved in, at your mom's insistence, and never got around to connecting it to anything. You figured it just being there would be deterrent enough and, other than visits from Joel, it had been.

He laughs again at your poorly masked grimace, and any other time you'd maybe be infuriated by him finding humor in something you'd been hurting over for weeks. It's not until you meet his eye and see the silliness in it all too - neither of you really did have any hope.

"Right? It's dumb. Not you, not me, it's just dumb. I even used to tell you when I'd be over next, let you know when to expect me. Leave out a key or put the door on the latch if it's okay for me to come by. I thought I was bein' invited in, but I was breakin' in. Shit. You're embarrassed, and I'm a criminal, I guess we're both losers."

Any anger you had is gone in a flash as laughter ripples through your belly and out your throat. In a way, it's all true. Joel was just as fucked as you, had just as much to be embarrassed and fearful about as you. Unknowingly leaving your home vulnerable to intruders is one thing, but being an accidental criminal for months is another.

"I liked it. I... I never knew when you were coming."

"Hey, if that's what gets your rocks off," he says with a wink, and you laugh again. "I ain't one to judge, but we can explore that in safer ways than keepin' a door unlocked day and night."

You both realize what he said the second the word left his lips.

We.

As in us.

As in together.

And you think he might take it back as quick as he said it, but he doesn't. He just looks at you, half fearful that he said the wrong thing, half hopeful that he said the right thing.

"Okay."

With one word he brightens, and you can feel it in you too. Whatever it is is mutual. Has been since the red velvet coat, since the wings, since the bunny ears, and all the spaces in between.

"Yeah? Cause I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."

"Well, that sounds like a terrible idea," you say bluntly, because honestly you cannot think of anything worse. Joel's slow steps towards you falter for a second as he tries not to let the disappointment in his face show, but you're already smiling. "You can pry Santa, Cupid, and Flopsy from my cold, dead hands."

And his laugh is glorious, cracking open the remnants of the walls you'd put around yourself and letting your bones soak in the warmth of him, just as his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. He smells so familiar - that's one thing you know about him. You might not know about his favorite color, or what he likes to eat, or even his daughters name just yet. But you know what he smells like, how his smile lights up his eyes, and how his hands feel on you, anchoring you in place even as you send yourself dizzy breathing him in.

He's going to kiss you too. You know that, and you welcome it, but before he can, you pull back.

"There's so much I want to know, I don't know how I missed so much."

"You get one question before I'm kissin' you."

You think for just a second before looking down to where your fingers curl into his shirt - an old Fleetwood Mac tee, so washed and worn it's like butter beneath your fingers.

With a wry smile, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, unable to hold back the laughter in your voice. "What are you dressed as today? Don't think I know this one, you're usually on theme."

"This? I'm just your plain ol' friendly neighborhood Joel Miller."

His lips are on yours then, pressing a soft kiss into the curve of your mouth, eyes searching yours for one, two, three seconds, before he dives back in, kissing you in earnest, making up for all the in betweens you'd been wishing away.

You wrap yourself around him, clinging to him, damn near wanting to climb up him, as you make out like teenagers in the middle of your living room. His hands wander across your shoulders, down your spine, grasping at any softness he can find along the way until his hands settle - one on your ass, and one gently cupping the back of your neck.

And as you kiss, holding each other close like you were long lost lovers and not whatever this thing between you was, you can't help but think that Joel Miller may just be your favorite Joel yet.

"Now, I got a question for you," he mumbles into your mouth, each word chased by your kisses. You've never wanted to seem desperate before, but right now you don't care, and by the way he's holding you, Joel doesn't mind either.

"Why the fuck do you have a nightlight?"

Shooting him an inquisitive look, you follow his gaze over your shoulder.

There on your counter, little light blinking away, is your very own clitty-blaster-3000, a luminous ghost with its mouth set in a permanent O, glowing brightly in the darkness. Shit. You'd brought it down this morning to charge, needing to keep a watchful eye on it and its janky magnetic charger to make sure it charged fully. You'd totally forgotten about it, and now here it was, glowing like a beacon after being out in the sun all day.

You try to pull away from Joel, but with his arms locked around your body, and his mouth pressing soft whiskered kisses to your neck, you don't have the strength, or the inclination, to move.

"It's not a nightlight, I can go put it away, if you just gimme-"

He tucks you behind him, swatting away your arms as you feebly try to reach around and grab it from him. Truthfully, you quite like the idea of him holding it, using it, but you feel bad that he might not know what it is.

"Not a nightlight, huh?" He says, grabbing the toy from the counter, said charger immediately popping off and clattering to the ground. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands, bringing it so close to his face it casts shadows across his features with its glow. "Oh, I know what this is."

"What is it then, smartass."

"Other than Pac-Man's worst nightmare? It's one of them clitty-blaster-3000 things."

Eyes wide, you double over, cackling and holding desperately onto yourself so you don't totally fall apart in front of him. He laughs with you, though maybe it's a little bit at you too, but you don't mind.

"What?!" he says smiling as he watches you fight to right yourself, gripping his forearm with laugh weakened fingers.

"That's what I call it!"

"Yeah? It good?"

His eyes are burning into yours. You know where this is going, and there's a brief thought that maybe you should stop it, slow things down. But you don't. Instead, you bite your lip and nod, making a noise of confirmation as Joel fiddles with the buttons on the toy.

A second later, it whirrs to life, a gentle throbbing buzz meeting your ears.

Joel puts his thumb over the hole, the suction gently hammering away at his finger tip as he clicks up and up through the intensity until he's well past a level you can use it at.

"Shit, yeah. Can see how that'd feel good."

"I, uhm, like to tease myself with it."

"Yeah?" he says as it clicks back down through the settings and rests on the softest one again. "Is that how you use it? Just to tease yourself?"

"No," you say, gasping a little when he raises the toy to your neck, pressing the mouth of the ghost to you as if pressing a kiss to your skin. "I - I just kinda stick it on there, to be honest. But I go slow with the - with the settings."

Joel clicks up one setting, the gentle thrumming at your neck intensifying a little.

"Yeah? You take your time? Give her what she deserves?"

You forgot what this was like - how easy and good it was to give in to wanting him, and how easy it was to let yourself have him too.

"Mhm."

"Good. Can't say I ain't jealous though. Missed comin' here. Seein' you. Thought about you, thought about comin' to see you but -"

"Thought about you too."

"When you were usin' this?"

You nod, tilting your head to the side and sighing as he glides the tip of the toy across your pulse point, behind your ear, down the column of your throat.

"Can I use it on you?"

You damn near want to tell him he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but the words are lost when you nod again and he captures your mouth in another kiss, brutal in its softness as he guides you back to your couch and all the plush cushions you have stacked there. Since Christmas, your home décor skills have definitely improved. Things look a little less bare, the place looks a little more lived in. There's still pictures to hang and empty spaces on shelves to fill, but you know those things will come in time. For now, you're grateful for the comfy place you've made on your sofa as Joel sits you down, guiding you down with strong hands.

Your shorts are quickly pulled off, the toy pulled from your neck so Joel can kiss his own better trail across your flesh. You hold him to you, anchor him into your bosom like he might drift off like a spectre in the night if you don't, but he's as latched to you as you are to him.

And then he's on his knees for you, jeans straining as his cock swells, hands gripping your thighs then pushing your shirt up, exposing you for him. Panties soon follow your shorts, yanked down your legs in a joint effort by your left hand and his right as he can't resist lapping at your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

He's everything you tried to forget, and some of the things you did. He's strong, and broad. He's gentle too, and soft - his eyes, mostly, but some other parts of him too. He's silly, and playful, smiling into your mouth and nipping at you, the hand by your thigh teasing the buzzing toy over the delicate skin there and delighting in your shudder.

As he moves it closer, the sounds of the suction against your skin making you both giggle, he moves down, burying his face into your neck and breathing in. You already know that it's never been like this before - that this is something new, just like every other time before had been something new.

"So you just stick it on, huh?"

"Lube. With lube."

His face is between your legs in an instant, licking messily around your clit, not really trying to get you off, just aiming to get you wet. When he pulls back, toy in hand, he raises the glowing toy mouth to his own and licks, smiling at the sound of it suctioning to his tongue.

"That good enough?"

And you nod, giving in to his kisses again before he breathlessly spreads you apart with both hands, looking at your cunt like if he blinks it'll all fade away.

"You know I ain't seen this for three months?"

"You been counting?"

"I missed you," he repeats with a breathless kiss to your thigh. "Missed this."

He lights his way with the glow of the toy rumbling in his hand, pulling back your clit for just one second, barely holding in a groan, before he gently holds the mouth of the ghost to you, pressing until the obscene slurp is muffled by full suction on your clit.

And it's divine, just like it always is, but somehow made even better by the man doing it to you. Fascinated eyes don't stop watching as it hammers air lightly at your clit in a constant rhythm, and the sight alone makes you drip. You're grateful for the heat now, and the sheet you'd covered your velvet sofa with, saving you an undoubtedly messy clean up later.

The toy slips when Joel climbs back off his knees to press his mouth to yours, and the air splutters and ripples past your skin again, as Joel laughs into your mouth.

"The sound of this thing, jesus fuckin' christ. Sounds like you're -"

"Don't. Don't make me laugh, you'll distract me."

"I like it when you laugh," but he's already pressing it flush to your skin again, stopping the sound and sending the ripples directly back to your clit.

"Ohh, f- "

"That's it," he says, watching as your hips rock ever so slightly into the throbbing toy sucking away on your clit. "Fuck, that's it. Lettin' me get you off with this thing."

"Think I can get some fingers in and keep this right where you need it?"

"Mm."

"Yeah?" he says, swiping at your entrance with his middle fingers, carefully holding the toy in place with his palm. "Just like that. There we go. Right in there. Fuck, I missed this. Missed bein' in here."

"Fuck."

"That's it. You come on 'em. Wanna feel it."

"Joel, down. Move it down. Ple- ah."

"There?"

"Right there," you sigh, panting and barely making it through the words before your eyes snap shut.

And then Joel is in your ear, his breath fanning against you, cooling you for a second even as his fingers stoke the fire raging in your core.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he murmurs, and you just know he's looking down at you, the picture of a perfect mess. A sheen of sweat on your skin, lips swollen and parted as you gasp, thighs spread wide, hips rocking into Joel's illuminated palm, t-shirt rucked high over your hips, hands on your tits, nipples pinched between your own fingers, moaning, panting, coming.

You twitch in his arms, burying your head in his neck and breathing deep. Something about the position you're in can keep it going longer, can keep that thrumming pressure on your clit right where it is, past your usual limit, dragging your orgasm on and on until you're gasping Joel's name.

He gingerly pulls the glowing toy off of you - its brightness dimmed only slightly since you lost sight of it between your legs - fiddling with buttons until he gives in and throws it to the side to run his hands over you.

With a light kisses to your parted lips, he apologizes, giving you softly muttered sorrys for ever upsetting you, for taking so long to come talk to you, and before you can return the sentiment, he sends you laughing again.

"And I'm sorry for breakin' into your house. Accidentally."

Your laughter makes him shift, and his face contorts as he gasps in discomfort.

"Fuckin' jeans. Pinchin'," is all he says, as he tries to adjust himself. You can see his zipper strain with the weight of his cock, stiff and unattended, behind the thick fabric.

"Take 'em off."

"Came here for you, not me."

"And if I want you to come for me?"

Joel blinks.

"Then I'm takin' my damn pants off," he says, taking his pants off. He sighs in relief when the pressure on his cock is released, groans when your hand palms him over the damp fabric, gasps into your mouth when you slip your fingers beneath his waistband, finding his cock slick and wet with precum, curses into your hair when you lick the salty taste of him from your fingers.

Tugging his boxers down a little more, his cock springs free, slapping his wet tip against his belly. In a blink you're on him, pulling off his shirt as you go to suck wet kisses into his neck, his chest, and letting your fingers toy with his nipples and the other feel down past his boxers, cupping his balls and rolling your thumb across the sensitive flesh before he pushes up into you.

He's solid. You're surprised he didn't come in his pants with how firm he feels slipping against your cunt. You meet his thrust, grinding down into his solid length, trying to hold your own shirt up so you can see the tip of his cock as he ruts against you.

"Does that feel good?"

"Fu - yeah. Y'always feel good."

"Y'know what would feel better," you whisper, scratching gently down his chest and watching goosebumps prickle his skin. With a shift of your hips, his next thrust pushes in, just slightly, before popping out and grinding into your clit again. His next thrust - slower, firmer - notches against your entrance and pushes in, Joel's hands on your ass dragging you down, until you're seated to the root of him.

It's a stretch. It always was. But over three months, and a decline in solo sessions, made it even more so.

Still, even through the stretch, you rock against him, looking into the eyes of Joel Miller, the normal, every day guy who lives down your street, and smile at it all, and the look on his face that says he couldn't be luckier.

"Said I wanted you to come, didn't I?"

And you meant it. You show him how much you mean it as you start to ride him, lifting higher and higher off of him before pushing back down. Your thighs clap against his, wet with sweat and slipping together with each movement, echoing around your living room.

It doesn't last long. It can't. It's too fucking hot, and you're woefully out of practice as the stretch in your pussy turns into a burn in your legs. You can see Joel's face start to pinch and contort, looking between your face, your bouncing tits, and the slip of his cock in and out of you, barely visible in the shadows.

But you can't keep going. You'll pass out if you do. Joel's hands register what you're doing before his face does, gripping tighter and holding you down on him, before his mouth opens in a gasp, his head falling back after losing something he was so close to getting.

You barely pull in a breath of warm air before Joel is dragging you down, flipping you unceremoniously onto your back on the floor.

It's cooler down here, even with Joel's body over yours. It's why you were on the floor to begin with, before he came back, before you let him back in. Joel fumbles against you, the sweat on your body acting more like a full body lube at this point, before he slides back in, knocking the air out of you as he fills you all over again.

Even though his knees will be bruised in the morning and your back will ache, he pounds into you, gripping your shirt and pulling you down with each thrust.

And it's just so fucking good you can't help but practically scream as he fucks you, moaning loudly into his ear as he groans and pants and swears into yours. Your fingers can't find purchase against his back, even as you desperately claw at him. There's too much sweat - it's too fucking hot in here - but you wouldn't change any of the desperate mess that you find yourselves in here on the floor.

He's growling, balls slapping against you, fucking you so hard you have to throw a hand out to hold onto the couch.

"I'm gonna - fuck - look at me. Look. Fuck. Fuck."

He presses in then, spurting deep in you, stealing the air from your mouth, and you from his, as you gasp and groan with each shallow thrust of his hips.

When he pulls out, hands going from bruising grip to gentle strokes, he rolls off of you, his back slapping wetly against the ground just as your pussy makes its own equally wet sound. And you laugh, because it's silly, just like it always has been, with or without a costume or a name that's not quite his own to go with it. Joel chuckles along with you, content and dozy from his orgasm, the evidence of it trickling out of you and making a mess of your floor as your stomach contracts with laughter.

The house cools down in the darkness - not much, but enough. Your hands find each other again too, and you each dance small patterns across each others skin until words come back to you.

You talk there on the floor, sweat drying on your skin, until the rumble of your stomach becomes too distracting to continue. You learn his favorite color, what he does for a living, his daughters name. You even learn the exact make and model of his truck, something you immediately forget.

And when he tries to excuse himself, too frightened of overstaying his welcome, you invite him to stay, and Joel Miller, the best Joel you've ever met, says yes.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups@wannab-urs@bean-is-reading@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@youandmeand5bucks-blog@bbyanarchist@vickywallace@kamcrazy123@valkyreally@ashhlsstuff@a-literal-goblin@ariundercovers@iluvurfather@stevie75@toxicanonymity@thesevi0lentdelights@sp00kymulderr

[freyaphoria]

now im curious what yandere hongjoong does for a living hehe also joong gifted hwa legos for his good behavior right? could you write something like yn being jealous bcs joong gifted hwa present and nothing for you?

Alexa, play Will you be my 벗? (8:09 sec) by Ateez -> Wooyoung: bimil~

I'm kidding, but since I'm thinking of writing the fic in series, I want it to be a surprise loll. But it's a job that suits his yandere character very well, you can guess it, right?

And I would like to express my love and gratitude to my dear @matzrionette for helping me find a title🩷

Jealousy Left Unwrapped

tw: jealousy!, yandere hongjoong, yan!seongjoong x reader

wc: 1540

taglist: @aim-blossom

"Why do you look so sad?" You swear he's doing it on purpose. He does it knowingly to make you jealous and drive you crazy. It doesn't take a genius to understand why you're upset.

"I am not." replied briefly and harshly. Your eyes were also on Seonghwa, who opened the gift package with excitement. "What's that tone of voice? Know your place." Your eye muscles had developed from rolling your eyes at Hongjoong during your stay here. After rolling your eyes at him, you were still hoping that he would give you a gift, too. After all, you were just as good as Hwa, okay you still didn't like Hongjoong but at least you tolerated him. Even this should have been rewarded.

"Joongie! You bought the set I wanted the most! Thank you so much!" Having finished unpacking, Seonghwa jumped on Hongjoong and hugged his neck. Your stomach dropped when Hongjoong said something to him like it was no big deal and kissed his cheek. For a moment, you thought that if Hongjoong was going to expect the same performance from you when he gave you a gift, you'd rather he didn't give a gift at all.

But then you thought again why he bought a gift for him and not for you. Why didn't he buy you anything? You've been behaving really well lately. You didn't try to escape, you were finishing your meals. Sometimes when Hongjoong hugged you, you didn't try to escape from his arms. You even wished him good night yesterday. Why didn't he buy you anything?

Was this jealousy? No way. You weren't crazy enough to be jealous that the man who kidnapped you was buying a gift for his other victim, who was just as crazy as himself, but not buying one for you.

Yes, you agreed. You were jealous. But how can you not be jealous? Hongjoong already had a favorite. His favorite of course, was Hwa, either because they spent more time together, or because he found Hwa and formed a bond with him at the peak of his sick impulses, or because he was a hundred times more loyal to Hongjoong than you. Yes, he loved you obsessively too, but look, he bought the gift for Seonghwa, not you.

Seonghwa looked at you as jealousy flared in your heart, forming a bigger and bigger ball. "Angel look, now we have a set to do together!" He looked very happy. And the fact that he included you in his gift made you feel ashamed of your jealous thoughts. But the problem wasn't Seonghwa, it was Hongjoong.

Of course, Hongjoong knew what he was doing. From time to time, in order to keep your relationship strong, he would give more attention to one of you than the other and ignore the other. This was one of his favorite manipulation tactics. The person who is ignored subconsciously thinks, "I must be as good as them, what can I do to make him love me as much?" he loved injecting this thoughts and seeing the flames of jealousy in both of your eyes. And he would definitely win. When he used this tactic on you, for a few days, without realizing it, you would act closer to Hongjoong, do whatever he said like a puppet, and try to win his love. Of course, you wouldn't do this consciously, but being the favorite person of the person who held power in his hands and the gifts or freedoms he showed you was very tempting.

After fake smiling at Seonghwa, you stood up. "I'm going to my room." As you turned around and went to your room, you heard Seonghwa say 'we were going to start this together, where are you going?' even though you heard his whining, Seonghwa was the last person you wanted to see right now.

You knew what you were doing was childish, but you couldn't help it. While jealousy was flowing through your veins, you were startled by the gentle knock on the room door. You knew it was Hwa, the only kind person here, who knocked your room.

"Did something happen?" You shook your head without looking at his face. Just as he was about to open his mouth again and say something, he closed his mouth when he heard Hongjoong's voice calling him from downstairs. "I'll start preparing dinner, if you want, you can watch TV with Hongjoong while I prepare it. I'll get his permission for you." It was starting to make you sick to your stomach at how nice he was to you. You sometimes wished he could treat you as cruelly and harshly as Hongjoong. This way, there would be nothing binding you here and you wouldn't start getting used to here. But sometimes, you wondered what would happen to Seonghwa if you managed to escape. You wouldn't forgive yourself if you couldn't save him from here and if his Hongjoong-like behavior progressed and he completely turned into Hongjoong.

"No need." You said without looking at him again. Seonghwa thought it would be better to close the door and leave you alone.

Dinner time also passed in silence. Since you didn't look at Seonghwa's face, you didn't see the new star necklace he had around his neck. Did he always have that necklace? No. You noticed it when it swayed as he took your empty plate, catching your eye with its metal reflection. "Since when did you have that necklace?" Hongjoong smiled at you subtly, as if expecting this question. "Ah, Hongjoong got this too. He gave it to me after you left. Beautiful, isn't it?" He told you with a big smile and playing with the star in his hand. He never meant to make you jealous, he was just very excited and wanted to show it off to the world. It was truly a great achievement and honor to receive a gift from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong saw the flaring jealousy in your eyes as you stood up from the table, and grabbed your arm before you could get too far. "What, you don't like it?" He was smiling at you so annoyingly that if he hadn't held your right hand, you would have tried to punch him. Unfortunately, you couldn't give the effect you wanted with your left hand. Maybe he was waiting for you to explode and punish you for it. You didn't know.

But you weren't going to give him what he wanted, he wasn't going to get that reaction from you. You put on a fake smile as you tried to pull your arm away from him. "I like it! It's beautiful! I loved it! It couldn't have been more beautiful!" You hated it when your emotions showed in your tone of voice. If you were stronger, could you stand up to him? "That tone of voice... Is it jealousy?" When he said it with a giggle, you felt yourself blushing from your ears to your cheeks. "Haha! Why are you jealous? After all, you hate this place and me, and it shouldn't matter if I buy him a gift and not you, right?" Ah, he's started again. Even if you denied it, he would continue this psychological torture until you agreed, so you would admit that you were jealous because you wanted it to end as soon as possible without tiring your brain any further. And also, yes, you were jealous.

"Yes, I'm jealous! So what?!" Seonghwa was watching you with wide eyes. Sometimes he was jealous of you too, but it wasn't because of the gifts Hongjoong bought you, it was because of the attention he gave you and didn't give him. "May I know why you're jealous, princess?" He knew why, but he enjoyed humiliating you this way. "Because... Because I've been so g-good lately too! Okay, even though I wasn't as good as Hwa, but I was s-still good! Why didn't you reward me too?" You cursed under your breath at your trembling and stuttering state. When he didn't say anything and looked at you, he looked at you for a long time, you felt uncomfortable and squirmed in your place. "Angel, we can do the lego set together-" "Seonghwa, shut up. Princess, if you were as obedient and loyal as Seonghwa, I would buy it for you too. But you still don't hug and kiss me of your own accord, it hurts my dignity." He looked at you and opened his arms a little, as if he expected you to jump into his lap, hug and kiss him right now. Even though you were jealous of the opportunities he offered Seonghwa, you were never going to give him what he wanted. You didn't move and looked at his arms for a while. Thinking you were hesitating, he said "Come here." to encourage you.

"In your dreams." You pulled your arm away from him harshly and headed back upstairs. "Then I won't buy you anything again!" His voice coming from downstairs got on your nerves. "You're not buying me anything anyway!" You shouted at him with the same tone of voice. Before slamming the door, you heard that Hongjoong mumbled something to Seonghwa about him banning you from watching TV for a week.

a/n: Again me and again yandere matz... Please keep sending me requests about yandere matz. I'm dying for them! Also, my next fic will be yandere yunho and lots of chaos! (I received the request you sent me but please give me some time to write it, dear anon♡♡)

[joostsblog]

hey i love ur work !! could you do a joost x reader who’s scared of the dark and there’s a power cut or something pls 🩷

you're all i think about ~ joost klein friends to lovers one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A movie night at your friend Joost's place turns into disaster and maybe something not so bad after all when there's a power outage.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Tysm for the request, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy❣️You can always send in requests <3 (title borrowed from the song lights out by fizz!)

Warnings: a panic attack, fear of the dark, not proofread

Movie night tonight? Joost had texted into your friend group chat and somehow nobody was down. Except for you. You were always down if Joost would be there. You would cancel other plans if it meant that you would be able to see Joost. So this is how you ended up by your friend Joost's doorstep, snacks in hand, ready to spend the evening at his place.  

You had known each other for a few years now, hanging around in the same circles but it had only been 7 months (7 months and 11 days to be precise, you kept count) since you had suddenly developed a crush on your friend. A crush so bad that sometimes you almost couldn't contain it and you were afraid that any second you would lose control over yourself and just blurt out your confession in front of all your friends when you hang out. Thankfully that hadn't happened so far. So you kept your secret.

You were afraid that if Joost would find out about your true feelings for him, it would ruin your friendship. That all the long hugs, the loving teasing, the ruffles through your hair, the sweet compliments and pep talks would end because he would feel weird about showing that affection to you.

"(Y/N)!" Joost exclaimed with a big smile as he opened the door for you and engulfed you in one of those heavenly hugs. "So glad you could make it!" he said as he rubbed your back softly. "I can always count on you," Joost said after pulling back.

"Of course!" you said.

A short while later you were both lounging on the sofa, while High School Musical was playing on the TV (Joost's choice), giggling and singing along. Your sides were almost touching, Joost's fingers occasionally grazing yours when you both reached for the popcorn bowl at the same time. In moments like these, the longing and wanting you had for Joost was almost unbearable. You just wished there was a universe in which you could just reach out for him and kiss him on the lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Instead, you were damned to stay at a distance and just drink up every small touch that occurred to keep you satiated.

Suddenly the TV and all the lights in the room turned off all at once and you were sat in darkness.

"What the-?" Joost laughed amused.

You were frozen on the spot and stayed silent as you were scared of the dark. You just hoped that the darkness wouldn't persist too long as you could feel yourself spiralling already.

"I'll check if it's the fuse," Joost sighed, obviously slightly annoyed at the inconvenience.

"Alright," you said quietly as Joost got up and used his phone's torchlight.

You took a peek outside the window and realised that the streetlights were also off which would imply that there was a bigger power outage.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you whispered.

This was bad. Not knowing when and if the power would come back on only worsened your state and being left alone in Joost's living room certainly also didn't help. You grabbed your phone and forced yourself to get up from the sofa. You walked to the door that connected to the corridor to look for Joost.

"Joost?" you asked timidly before you turned your head to look down the dark corridor.

"Booo!" Joost suddenly said with a laugh appearing out of nowhere in front of you.

Your heart skipped a beat and you dropped your phone. Your body started shaking uncontrollably as you tried catching your breath, having absolutely no control over your bodily reaction to what Joost probably thought was a harmless joke. Overwhelmed you could feel the tears slowly trickling down your cheeks.

"(Y/N), everything alright?" Joost asked concerned as he registered your quick breathing. You tried answering but couldn't produce an intelligible response. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Joost said as he realised his mistake. His arms quickly wrapped around your body as he engulfed you in a warm embrace. His chin was resting on your head as he was taller than you, his hands softly caressing you. "(Y/N), I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," you could tell that Joost felt bad for causing your panic.

"It- it's f-fine," you finally managed to push out.

"No no no, I'm sorry," he repeated, softly swaying your bodies back and forth.

"No, I'm such a chicken, I'm afraid of the dark," you explained, voice straining as your throat felt tight and your tears made it difficult for you to speak.

"I swear I didn't know," Joost said. "Come here," he said and led you back to the sofa. "Sit down and close your eyes, just pretend you're taking a nap, okay?" he said and you did as you were told. He softly put a blanket around your shoulders as he sat down beside you. Joost rested his hand on your cheek and wiped away some of your tears.

"I feel so stupid," you admitted, feeling terrible.

"No no, please don't, Lieverd," Joost softly insisted and you wondered whether the pet name was a slip of the tongue. "Don't say that," he said and suddenly you could feel his lips pressing to your forehead and your heart fluttered. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll be right back, I swear," Joost said before getting up from the sofa.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to calm down your breathing slowly. Having felt Joost's lips against your skin just a moment before sure did distract you but it also certainly added to your nervous heart beating.

"Here I am again," Joost said in a soft tone to not scare you this time. You could hear him shuffle around the room before he said "I got us some lights," and you opened your eyes.

Joost had propped up both of your phones with the torchlight illuminating the ceiling as well as his laptop and iPad which just showed a white screen at maximum screen brightness.

"I don't have any candles," Joost said apologetically.

"It's fine," you softly laughed. "Thank you."

"Well, candles would have been more romantic," Joost said and your heart fluttered again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked earnestly.

"This is much better, thank you," you said. "But a hug would be nice."

"Of course," Joost smiled and opened his arms as you crawled over to him into his arms. "I'm sure the power will come back on soon," Joost tried reassuring you, his hand softly stroking the back of your head as you were cuddled up against his chest. Joost started softly humming some melody and the vibrations from his chest started calming you down more.

"This is nice," you murmured and you could hear a smile in Joost's hum, his hand drawing circles on your back. "I'm sorry if I ruined this night."

"No, don't be silly," Joost pulled back lightly to look at you sternly. "Any moment spent with you is perfect."

You looked up at him, heart beating fast as you realised how close you two were to each other. In this moment you wished you were in pitch darkness again because maybe then you would have had the courage to close the few centimetres between you and kiss Joost.

"Don't tell the others, but you are definitely my favourite out of all of them," you said which was the closest thing to a love confession you were able to get past your lips. You saw how Joost's eyes lit up at your words, a grin spreading across his lips.

"You are also my favourite, Lieverd," he whispered. You looked at each other in silence, Joost's hand holding your head, his other arm still wrapped around your shoulders. Joost moved his hand to cup your cheek instead and looked at you fondly. His thumb was just resting by the corner of your mouth. You almost didn't dare to breathe just to not interrupt this delicate moment. Joost's thumb lightly brushed against your bottom lip and your heart skipped a beat before he moved closer to you and you instinctively followed suit. As your lips were only a centimetre apart the both of you briefly paused as if to ask the other for permission before you closed the gap and your lips finally met in a kiss. It was gentle and sweet but yet so passionate. Your hand was resting on Joost's chest you swore you could feel his heart beating faster. His arm was holding you close and his smell engulfed you. It was everything you had hoped for and so much more. After you broke the kiss you grinned at each other, Joost's hand caressing your cheek.

"I'm gonna make sure you'll never have to be in the dark again, I swear," he said before leaning in to kiss you again.

[th3-c0rps3-r0gu3]

Arranged marriage?

Royal au

Pairing: princess (to be queen) Natasha X autistic queen reader.

Warnings: Natasha being an asshole. (She gets better... Just not yet.)

I got this idea from a Pinterest post from Tumblr. Credits go to whoever that person is. If anyone can find the person who made the original idea please let me know so I can give proper credit.

Natasha was in a marriage she didn't want. Well not yet. The married part. Natasha definitely did not want the marriage at all. But technically she was only engaged. And Natasha hated the fact that her parents refused to let her rule unless she was married. But it was ok. Because she had a plan. Simple and easy. Wait a year or so after the wedding. Then kill queen y/n and live as a widowed queen on her own. Then she would rule alone and get two kingdoms to run. Hers and y/n's. Natasha thought it full proof.

Y/n pov:

I hate this. The meetings and arrangements for a wedding I honestly don't want. I didn't even want to be queen. I have dragons to study and no time to run a large and not to mention busy kingdom. I'm honestly hoping this new wife of mine can just run it for me while I travel to the scorching geysers that dragons tend to nest at. Though in all honesty my supposed to be wife scares me. She's so intimidating and scary. Constantly scowling at me as if I wanted this. I don't. Well I kinda do. Simply so I don't have to run this place. But still! Princess Romanoff could at least be a bit nicer...

It's another beautiful morning and I'm meant to be meeting up with princess Romanoff. And instead of being down in the main hall I'm in the library amongst several old books about striped winged dragons. I know where I'm meant to be but I don't want to have to deal with my scary soon to be wife. So instead I'm hoping that Natasha just thinks I forgot and goes back to her own kingdom.

A crash tells me I'm not going to get my wish. I glance above a pile of books only to see the cursing form of princess Natasha romanoff. I duck back behind my books again and hope against logic that she didn't notice me. Luck is not on my side. I wince as another crash echoes through the library. These are important and ancient books of history. History no one but me reads but still history! And then Natasha's head pops up over the shorter stack of books. Those are about the green clawed wyvern. I look up and see Natasha scowling at me.

"hi princess."

I try and greet her but Natasha's scowl only deepens. She's pissed. At me. Of course she is. I sigh and step out of my mountain of books. Walking around to greet the princess. I smile awkwardly. Natasha doesn't.

"you didn't show up in the great hall. Now I had to come and find you. Do you realise how messy this room is? You should hire a cleaner."

Natasha berated me for the millionth time. Truth be told I should get a cleaner in here but it's the only library study that holds the draconic records. So only I ever frequent the room and I'm not bothered by the dust. So I never got a cleaner. I won't bother explaining that to Natasha. I sigh and nod along to Natasha as she keeps ranting. I've learned that agreeing with her is easier than arguing.

"my apologies princess I forgot the meeting was today."

I try and remain polite as Natasha bursts into another rant about my incompetence. That seems to be her favourite thing to rant about nowadays. Until I notice the book I had been searching for earlier. The one about white bellied fire drakes and their subspecies. I know I should be focused on Natasha but I'm afraid if I look away I won't be able to find it again. I keep my unblinking gaze on the book. My mind blocking out Natasha's rant. Only I don't have the focus to feel guilty about not listening. I finally give in and push past Natasha to grab the book. My smile is wide as I pull it out and examine it. In perfect condition too!

Natasha gapes offended at me as I brush past her to get my book. But unfortunately for her ego I have bigger issues to worry about. I grab the books and brush the dust that had been collecting in it before marching over to my already crowded desk and slipping the ancient text onto it and flipping it open. My eyes light up as I see the familiar images of the white bellied fire drakes. When I finally look up Natasha is staring at me with probably more rage than any sort of fire wyrm that I've ever studied. I purse my lips and an apologetic look comes to my face. At least I hope it looks apologetic.

"ah right... My apologies princess.."

I try and smile but Natasha bursts into another rageful rant about disrespect and my idiotic behaviour and if we are meant to be married and yadayadayada I don't actually care currently I have my book. I sigh and prop my head up against my palm as I half pay attention to anything Natasha is screaming before I look down at my book and whoopsies I'm now paying attention to white bellied fire drakes.

By the time Natasha finishes her second rant I forgot she was even there as I am occupied with reading about ice bellied fire drakes, the close cousin to white bellied fire drakes. I recall a lot of the information in the book but it's nice to get a refresher. I don't remember Natasha is still there until she hits me on the head with a scroll. I look up confused until I realised what scroll she hit me with. The one about steelscaled amphipteres and I gently grab it from Natasha and sit it down gently.

"princess be careful these scrolls are incredibly old and could be damaged easily!"

I exclaim. I don't know what I'd do if any of these books and scrolls got damaged. Have a mental break down and lock myself up for a few weeks probably. It's not until Natasha responds that I look up.

"so what! It's just a bunch of mumbo jumbo anyway who cares."

I freeze and my eyes grow cold. How dare she. These texts are ancient words of history not a bunch of mumbo jumbo and the fact Natasha dare say so makes me angry. I stand up and walk to stand in front of Natasha.

"I care. And if you don't then get out of my library before I call my guards to come and escort you out so I don't have to deal with another one of your useless rants that nobody likes you insufferable pathetic human being."

I snarl. I know this is going to enrage the princess but she has no authority here and I used my serious tone. Meaning no arguments or else. This is my kingdom and I won't let Natasha act otherwise. And by her scowling and burning eyes she knows it too. And before I can say another word princess Natasha romanoff stalks out the room without another word. I sigh and sit down behind my desk. This is gonna be a long marriage.

A/n: this was originally meant to be a one shot but it's turned into a series. Yay! And before anyone comes for me about writing autism wrong I am autistic and this is how I would react in a situation like this.

[misctf]

My friend is such a stuck up jock, never indulging in fatty foods or beer and always watching his calories, can you show him whats its like to live a little and let go?

“Look, you need to get this thing off me!” Mike begged, pulling desperately at the bracelet around his wrist, “Seriously, bro!”

You were still staring at the jiggling mass of fat that hung over your friend’s waistline. Just a minute ago, his firm abs were on full display. But now? Now he was sporting a jiggly beer gut. His eyes filled with panic.

“I don’t think I can.” You replied, staring at the bracelet.

You barely remember how you came into possession of it. You and your buddies were down in New Orleans, celebrating Tom’s bachelor party. Mike was getting on your nerves though- constantly turning down beers, cigars, or any fun thing that went against his strict lifestyle. For fucks sake, it was a bachelor party. Would it have killed Mike to chug a beer with his bros? You recall drunkenly walking back to your apartment, but getting sidetracked in a pawn shop. And in your drunken state, you told the owner everything. How annoying Mike was being. How you wished he would stop being so judgmental. That you wish he could live a little and let go. And that’s how you come into possession of this bracelet. A solution to your problems, as the pawn shop owner said.

“But... It will come off in a week.” You reassure, “But in that time, anything you judge others for will be reflected back on you.” You believe that’s what the pawn shop owner told you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Mike cursed as he poked his new beer gut, his finger sinking into the fatty mound, “This can’t be happening...”

Mike could barely believe what he was looking at. Years dedicated to exercise, healthy eating, and a strict lifestyle undone in mere minutes. All because he said Tom needed to lose the beer gut. For years, Mike sported a set of perfect abs and firm, clean-shaven pecs. His arms were toned and sculpted. His brunette hair perfectly styled. His perfect smile and hazel eyes could melt hearts. And while most of these remained, the large ball of flash that covered his abs felt totally unnatural and foreign to him.

“I need to go.” Mike said, “I need to go to the gym.” You told him that he shouldn’t, but he quickly grabbed his gym bag and left.

Mike wiped the sweat from his brow as he paused his treadmill run early. He couldn’t stand the feeling of his gut jiggling as he ran. Each movement reminding him of this new, unwanted growth. He placed a hand on it and bit his lip. Had it gotten bigger? He groaned and hopped off the treadmill, heading back to the locker room.

“Just a week.” He thought, “Will it even reverse though?” He thought dejectedly.

He entered the locker room, trying to calm his thoughts and made his way to the changing area. As he turned the corner though, he collided with another man, the two of them stumbling back. And when the shock of their collision subsided, Mike got a glimpse of the guy.

“My bad bro.”

“Yeah...” Mike wasn’t sure he ever saw someone so hairy before.

The man’s pits were overflowing with hair. His chest and back covered in curly, unruly hair. His beard long and thick. Mike wondered how someone could live like that. He always kept himself clean-shaven and he figured it helped show off his muscles. Too much hair was kinda gross. He watched as the man left and Mike quickly grabbed his bag. And as he passed a mirror, he froze.

“Oh my god...” Mike’s hand shot to feel the beard that now covered his face, “No way...”

The mess of curly chest hairs that rose above his collar made his stomach churn, and he lifted his shirt. As expected, his new gut now sported a thick treasure trail that traveled to his now hairy chest. Even his pits were filled with a forest of wet, musky, and tangled hairs. He quickly fled back to the apartment, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

“You good?” You asked, hearing the electric razor.

There was no response. And after a few minutes, Mike exited the bathroom. Your eyes widened when you saw your newly hirsute friend.

“The razor didn’t work...” Mike frowned, as tears threatened to fall, “I...”

“You’re staying indoors.” You say.

______

The next few days you barely see Mike. He barely left his room. You figured he was playing it safe. Besides, he had one day left of this bracelet curse. You hear him rummage through the fridge.

“Hey man.” You say, looking up from your videogame, “You good?”

He just glares at you, “I have a virtual work meeting.” He says, “See you later.”

Mike sits down at his computer, logging into the meeting. He forces a smile as people comment on his new beard. And as the meeting continues, he can’t help but wonder how some of the people even landed a job in business. Some of them were incredibly lazy and didn’t even try. He would even say some just didn’t have the smarts for it. Mike didn’t realize the impact his thoughts were having on him. His bright eyes dulled, and his mind wandered as the meeting progressed, no longer caring about the confusing numbers and figures on screen.

“Mike, do you have those figures we asked for?”

“Uh figures?” Mike asked, “Uh yeah, I think... let me see...” But he struggled to find them. And even when he did, he fumbled through his explanation of them. He could tell his boss was pissed.

“Mike, when you get back to the office, I’d like to talk to you.” He said.

Mike’s heart sunk. He needed this job. Yet, did he even care about it? It was so boring, right? The meeting ended and the young man groaned, ruminating on his performance. Yet, his thoughts felt somewhat slower. A text message broke his train of thought.

“Hey Mike,” Chad says, “A few of the guys are hitting the bar, you interested?”

Mike can’t help but wonder if that’s all they do- go to the bar and drink. Chad and his work buddies always seemed to go to the bar after work. It was kind of ridiculous.

“No, I’m good.” Mike replied. But as he sat there, he felt thirsty. Not for water or a protein shake. No...

“I could really go for a beer.” He mumbled, “Wait... no...” He continued, “I don’t drink...” But the thought of a nice cold beer at the bar seemed like a good idea, “Fuck it, I deserve one after all this shit. Not like it’ll make a huge difference.” He said, looking down at his gut.

He quickly changed into a more comfortable pair of clothes and headed out. You only realized he left when the door slammed behind him.

______

The bar next to your apartment was bustling. Apparently, there was a big event happening that night. But Mike couldn’t care less. He was just enjoying the ice cold beer, wondering why he ever gave the stuff up. And as he enjoyed his beer, he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation next to him. Two guys, who Mike assumed were gay, were rating guys in the bar.

“Dad bods are like totally in.” The one said, “I don’t care what anybody says.”

“Oh you’re so right, sis.” The other replied, “I’m so excited for the show tonight.”

Mike couldn’t help but chuckle. Dad bods? Really? Women were totally into his firm muscles and abs. The way they ran their hands down his firm muscles or rested their heads on his firm pecs. Yeah, whoever said dad bods were in must’ve been smoking something. Mike shifted as his pecs sagged slightly with more fat, while his toned arms and legs lost their definition. His back even widened slightly, giving him a bulkier figure. His face became rounder, a new double-chin hidden by his beard. Mike belched as he finished off his beer, scratching at his softer chest.

“Ladies and gentleman!” An announcer called out, “Welcome to our Pride Night!” He said.

Mike groaned. He just wanted a beer. Not a social justice lecture. Did they really need to make a spectacle out of this? But as the man continued to talk, Mike couldn’t help but pay more attention. As he talked about gay rights, Mike smiled. And when he realized the two gay men from earlier were checking him out, he grinned and gave them a wink. One walked over and grinned.

“Hey daddy.” He said, rubbing his hand along Mike’s hairy forearm. The feeling incredibly pleasurable.

“And now, give a warm welcome to our main event!”

Mike watched as several nearly nude men strutted out onto stage. A few entered the audience to interact with the crowd, while others walked over to the poles on stage and began their dance. The crowd was cheering, while Mike watched on with mixed emotions. Part of him found a growing attraction to these men, while another part was disgusted. Pole dancers? How desperate did you have to be?

“You could totally pull it off.” The guy said.

“You think so?” Mike said, the thought of pole dancing becoming more appealing in his shrinking brain.

And before he knew it, he was lifting his shirt above his head. He quickly pulled his pants off too, revealing his barely contained bulge in his tight underwear. The gay man next to him cheered and ran a hand through Mike’s hairy chest.

“Oh? What do we have here?” The announcer said, noticing Mike, “Come on up!”

And Mike did. Walking up to the pole and starting his dance. Not even noticing the bracelet fall off. The changes remaining in place. And as you entered the bar, having followed Mike, your jaw drops when you saw him. Dancing, drinking- his hairy body on full display. Not a care in the world. When the event finally winds down, you find Mike talking with a few of the other dancers. When he sees you, he grins.

“Hey hun!” He gushes, “Guess what?”

“Mike?” You ask, “I... uhhh....” You notice the missing bracelet.

“I got a job! Isn’t that great?”

You have so many things you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. But as Mike grabs another beer and chugs it, clearly enjoying this new life, your words are lost. And as he flirts with some of the other men, you sigh, grab a beer, and celebrate with him. The bracelet kicked under a table for someone else to find.

[httpdwaekki]

worship | s.c.

summary: you don’t feel beautiful but changbin shows you just how beautiful you are.

wc: 4.6k

warning: SMUT 18+ (MDNI), tall!chubby!afab!reader, praise kink, body worship, negative self-talk, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap in), oral (read rec), nipple play, aftercare, tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible but written as afab!reader, probably more, read at your own risk.

a/n: minors and ageless blogs DNI. i will be blocking anyone that interacts with this post that is a minor/ageless blog. okayyyy, this is my first smut and i of course had to write it about my favorite boy <3 let me know what you think! anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you weren’t always the most comfortable in your skin growing up. you were taller, and on the chubbier side for as long as you can remember. it always bothered you, you got treated differently from your skinnier friends.

you got stares not only for your height but your weight, you certainly didn’t get approached by boys and if you did they were trying to use you to get to your friends. you got used to it, you got depressed, and got into a really dark place.

but you slowly realized that if no one was gonna love you for you, then you were going to have to. and that’s what you did, you embraced every roll, every curve, every stretch mark. and you loved yourself like no else has. but then you met one seo changbin.

and if you thought no one could love you more, you were very mistaken. he proved to you everyday how much he loved you, every flaw, every strength, every high, every low. his love was truly unconditional.

and as much as he showed you how much he loved you, you were of course going to have your bad days. days where you don’t feel good about yourself, where you want to hide from the world, where you feel so uncomfortable in your own skin you almost wish you could rip it off.

and that’s exactly how you felt today. you laid on your couch in the biggest shirt you had, with an even bigger blanket around you, swallowing you into a fuzzy cocoon.

you were barely watching what was playing on the tv in front of you when you heard the familiar sound of the lock of your front door clicking, signaling it being unlocked. you know exactly who it was, you didn’t even have to move. you knew he was showing up sooner or later to figure out why you hadn’t been acting like yourself.

he had tried to ask but you shut him down every time. you knew he was busy and you didn’t want to burden him with your issues and especially when you knew the feelings would pass sooner or later.

you hear him lock the door once more before taking his shoes off and setting his bag down. he then makes his way into your living room finding you in your cocoon, long legs curled up as much as they could be. you look up at him, big eyes reflecting the forgotten show on your tv.

your eyes follow him as he makes his way, squatting next to your cocoon. he raises a hand, brushing the soft surface of your chubby cheeks, “hi my baby.” he coos, eyes bright, finally getting to see his favorite person. “hi bin.” you mumble, leaning into his warm touch.

“you wanna tell me what’s been going on, hm?” you feel your face heat up, bringing your hands up to cover your face, inherently halting his movements and touch.

“hey, baby, look at me,” he gently grabs your hands, holding them in his. “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?” you shake your head, feeling all of the emotions you’ve been trying to ignore. “baby i can’t help if you don’t talk to me.” thumbs slowly stroking the back of your hands.

“i just don’t feel beautiful right now, bin.” you whisper, shaking your head. “and i know it’s just my brain being mean but fuck bin, it hurts and i don’t want to believe it but it’s so hard when it’s me.” you’re staring at your connected hands, avoiding the eyes of the man in front of you.

he lets go of one of your hands, gently placing it under your chin to lift your eyes to his. “you gotta tell me when you feel like this, okay?” he pauses. “you are the most beautiful, gorgeous person i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” he places a gentle kiss to your hand.

“will you tell me what’s going through your head so i can prove it wrong?” you think about it for a moment, the one person in your life that always makes you feel loved and seen is asking to show you how much he loves you. and who the hell are you to say no.

“i just,” you pause, moving to sit up, crossing your legs in front of you, binnie’s hands laying on top of them. “i hate that my thighs are so big or that my stomach is pudgy or i’m so fucking tall and i just wish that i loved the way i looked because i fucking hate feeling this way.” you must admit, it did feel good to finally get it off your chest, it however didn’t quiet your brain or the negative thoughts that continued to run rampant through them.

“will you let me show you how gorgeous you are?” he asks, rubbing the exposed skin of your calf. you looked into his eyes once more, finding nothing but love and sincerity. you nod your head slightly, before he moved to his knees before you,

he grabs your cheek once more, bringing you closer before placing his lips on yours. he’s placing gentle strokes on your cheek with his thumb, as his lips move against yours. he eventually starts to move further down, kissing the length of your jaw, down to the sweet spot, just below your ear.

he stays there for a moment, interchanging between kissing and sucking the soft skin, pulling light whimpers from you. “look at you, sounding so pretty for me already.” he praises before placing one last kiss, moving to his feet.

he grabs your hand, pulling you from the couch and your warm cocoon. “if i’m gonna show you, i’m gonna do it right.” he says before picking you up with ease, taking you to your bedroom where he lays you on the bed.

“move to the middle, bunny.” he requests, tapping the side of your thigh. you do as he says, laying in the middle before he moves to hover over you. “look at you, my pretty baby.” he kisses your jaw once more, moving down for the second time. this time he starts placing kisses down your clothed sternum.

once he reaches your belly, he lifts your shirt up, just enough, to expose it to him. he starts placing slow, loving kisses over each roll and curve the soft surface has to offer. “you see this gorgeous tummy? so soft just for me. it holds all of the important things your body needs to keep you with me.” he starts, still placing kisses.

“and hopefully will one day carry our mini me into the world.” your eyes soften, hands finding their way into the soft raven curls that lay atop his head. “you’re gonna make me cry.” you mumble, scratching softly at his scalp. “it’s true though.”

he gives your stomach one last kiss before moving your shirt up once more. this time exposing your bare breasts to him. “and these,” he pauses, bringing his hands up to sofft brush the sides. “god these are so fucking perfect jagi.” he places kisses around each nipple, softly brushing his lips against them.

“the perfect pillows, so soft and the noises you make when i touch them?” he takes a nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it, his tongue flicking the peaked bud. you let out a high pitched moan, tighten the grip on his hair slightly, resulting in a satisfied hum from the man above you.

“so fucking pretty baby.” he says before moving the next bud, gently rolling the previous one between his fingers. repeating the same process, you let out another moan, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the wet spot in your panties getting bigger.

he finally releases your nipple placing a kiss to each one before he leans back. “sit up for a second.” you sit up, allowing him to take the shirt off before he moves you to lean comfortably against the pillows. he places a kiss to the side of your mouth before moving to your shoulder, kissing all the way down your arms, until he reaches you hand entwining your fingers.

“and these arms, that hold me with such love and care.” he kisses your other arm. “and take care of me so well, whenever i need it most.” he places a kiss to each shoulder and each hand before positioning himself between your legs. not before gving your tummy a few extra kisses on the way down.

he starts by kissing your panty line, placing a kiss on the now obvious wet spot. you let a soft sigh before looking down, catching a glimpse of the obvious proud smirk on his pretty face. “ and don’t even get me started on these fucking legs.” he sits back on his heels, grabbing one leg, placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.

“so fucking long, and beautiful, god you have no idea what they do to me.” he grabs the other one, placing a kiss in the same place. “now for my favorite part, your beautiful thighs.” kissing up the inside of them, nipping the skin, right next to where you needed him the most.

“look at them baby, so big and beautiful,” he switches to the other side. “and they way they feel wrapped around my head while i’m making you feel good?” his arms coming up to caress the sides of them. “i could stay like that all day jagiya.” he places one last kiss to each one, before bringing a hand up to gently rub the wet spot on your pink panties.

“and my favorite treat, so ready and so fucking pretty for me as always baby.” he places soft kisses to the wet fabric before sitting up, tapping your hip, signaling you to lift them. he quickly slides them off, throwing them some place in the room before moving back between your plush thighs.

he wraps his arms around your hips, pulling you forward a bit, finally settling there. he brings one hand back around to spread you wet lips. “always ready for me, huh bubs?” he lightly blows, making you whine a bit. “i know baby, i know. i just wanted to look at my pretty baby for a little bit.”

he brings his arms back to rest around your soft thighs before placing a kiss to your inner thigh, slowly making his way to your pussy. placing light kisses to your lips before finally placing a kiss to your bundle of nerves. you whimper at the minimal stimulation, “binnie, please.” you beg, looking down to find that same proud smirk on his face.

“my pretty baby feeling needy?” he teases, still lightly pressing kisses to your clit. you nod, pouting, hoping he’ll cave and give you what you want. “okay jagi, i’m sorry.” he gives your clit one last kiss before licking a stripe from your dripping hole, to your sensitive clit.

your back arches slightly, mouth agape, at the feeling of finally getting the stimulation you’ve been waiting for. your hand finds his raven curls once more as he then fully takes your clit in his mouth, alternating between sucking and flicking the sensitive bud.

you moan, lightly scratching his scalp, as he continues his work on your bud. “feels good baby?” he asks, mouth still against you. you nod, another moan leaving your mouth as he gently grazes you clit with his teeth.

you feel a finger rub at your entrance before he fully inserts it, curling it slightly. your hand tightens around his curls for a moment, as a whine leaves your mouth. “more please.” you beg, feeling the knot in your tummy already begin to tighten. “patience baby, i got you.”

he adds a second finger, picking up the pace slightly, causing your legs to tighten around him. the way he’s using your clit and hitting that sweet spot perfectly feels euphoric. “binnie,” you moaned, “i’m close.” you warned, back arching off the mattress, hand tightening in his curls once more.

this only prompts him to quicken his movements, sucking on your clit a little harder. your whimpers and moans get louder and louder as you get closer and closer to your release. “please,” you beg, teetering on the edge of cumming. “binnie, don’t stop, i’m so close.” you whimper, your free hand coming up to play with your peaked bud.

“you gonna cum pretty?” he asks against your clit. you moan a small “mhm” telling him all he needs to know. “so cum baby, let me see how pretty my baby looks when i’m making them feel good.” that sends you over the edge, throwing your head back, thighs tighten around his head, fingers tightening in his hair as you cum.

he works you through your high, taking out his fingers, taking all you have to offer. your fingers release his hair, relaxing back into the mattress as you come down. you whimper as he still flicks your sensitive bud with his tongue. you push his head away softly, feeling slightly overstimulated.

“give me one more pretty.” he says, inserting his fingers once more. “let me make you feel good, baby.” his movements are quicker this time. your noises becoming high pitched as you get closer to your second release.

“binnie!” you cry, legs shaking slightly at the stimulation. he adds a third finger, stretching you even more. “there you go my pretty baby,” he continues his work before speaking again, “looking so beautiful for me.” his mouth back on you, moving with fever to get you to your release once more.

“ah!” you wail. “binnie-“ you cut yourself off with a load moan. “come on gorgeous, let go, show me how beautiful you are.” you’re cumming again, legs shaking, tightening around his head once more. both hands grabbing your boobs as your back arches off the bed.

“there you go, good job baby, did so good.” he says as you finally relax into the mattress once more. your breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure as he pulls out his fingers. he places a slow, soft kiss to your clit before placing one to each of your inner thighs.

he sits up, licking his fingers before hovering over you once more. he kisses you, tasting yourself slightly on his tongue. “so beautiful baby.” he says against your lips. “always sound so pretty when you cum.” he kisses you again. “you look even prettier.” he kisses you once more before leaning back, taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room.

you take in the beautiful man in front of you, aching once again even after two orgasms. you sit up, leaning forward, pulling him into a feverous kiss, hands finding his pecs, working their way down to his abdomen. you make your way down his neck, finding his own sweet spot, pulling a groan from him.

you whine as he pulls you away, pout present on your swollen lips. “i know jagi but this is about you, not me.” he brings a hand back to your soft cheek, caressing it once more before placing a quick kiss to the other one. “lay back down bunny.”

he gets off the bed as you lay back down against the pillows. you watch as he slides his pants down, stepping out of them, kicking them to the side. he grabs the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down, releasing his hard length, thick and leaking against his soft tummy.

you squeeze your thighs together as he tosses the fabric to the side. he climbs over you once again, this time carefully spreading your legs, leaning down to place a kiss to your inner thighs “so beautiful.” mumbles against your soft skin before placing a gentle kiss to your clit, making you jolt from the contact.

he kisses his way back up you body, sparing extra kisses to your soft tummy, and of course one to each nipple. he kisses up your sternum, up your throat to jaw before he pulls away to look at you. you swear you could see hearts in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“hi pretty.” he whispers, eyes gleaming. his hand was resting on the bed next to your head, the other one rubbing small circles on your plush thighs that laid upon his. “hi bub.” you whisper back, face warm. “how’re you feeling, hm?” you smile at his question, bringing your hand up to rest on his puffy cheek.

“really good jagi, thank you.” he smiles, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he leans against you, his body pressing against you. you feel his hard length slide between your wet folds, brushing against your bundle of nerves.

you let out a soft moan against his lip, as he pushes your thigh to the side, allowing him more access to your core. his lips never leaving yours as he rubs little circles on your clit. you pull away, letting out a whimper as he continues his movements.

“feel good, jagi?” he asks, capturing your lips once more. you nod against him, your hand coming up to grip his bicep. he pulls away once more, but continues rubbing circles to your sensitive nub.

“you ready my baby?” you nod, another moan falling from your lips. “i gotta hear you say it, bunny.” you whine. “i’m ready binnie, please i need you.” satisfied with your answer he places another kiss to your swollen lips and his lines up to your entrance.

your mouth falls open and he pushes into you, your grip tightening around his bicep. “fuck.” you whisper against his lips. he’s stretching you out in the best way possible. he’s stills once he’s fully in, giving you a moment to adjust.

his hand rests on your hip, softly caressing your skin as you adjust to his size. he’s placing kisses to the side of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek before he places his forehead against yours. “you okay, pretty?” you nod against his forehead.

“i’m so okay, you have no idea.” you giggle, causing him to smile. “i’m gonna move now okay?” you nod once again. “okay.” you confirm, your body relaxing into the mattress below you. he places one last kiss to your lips before sitting up a bit.

he places one hand on your plush thigh while the other grabs your waist. he pulls out just to fully push back in, pulling a moan from you. “fuck bin, oh my god.” your hand once again finding the soft flesh of your chest. “that’s it baby, sound so pretty while i’m making you feel good.”

he’s slowly thrusting into you, drinking in the way your body reacts to him. he picks up the pace slightly, “play with your pretty nipples for me baby.” you do as he says, clenching around him and you play with the hard buds. “fuck bunny, you’re squeezing me so good.” he moans, throwing his head back for a moment.

he looks godly above you, you arch your back at the sight causing him to hit that sweet spot inside of you. you let out a particularly high pitched moan at the feeling, causing him to snap his head back down, catching the sight of you arched infront of him.

he slows down, reaching for an extra pillow that you’re not leaning against. you let out a whine, relaxing your back. “relax jagi, i’m just getting you a pillow.” he pulls out and taps your hip. “lift up for me baby.” you lift your hips and he slides the pillow under you.

“okay bunny, lay back down.” you lay back into the mattress, and he pushes your legs open once more. “my pretty bunny is so obedient.” he leans down, arm next to your head as he kisses you. he rubs your sensitive clit once again, pulling whimper from you.

“just like that, look at this beautiful body. jagi.” he says against your lips, still rubbing little circles on your clit. “so soft and perfect, just for me.” you bring your hands back up, one on your tit the other wrapping around his shoulder.

“binnie please.” you beg, needing to be filled again. “i got you baby don’t worry.” he stops his movements on your clit to line himself once more, slowly pushing in. the new angle making it feel intoxicating as he pushed into you.

“oh fuck, baby, fuck.” you cried, digging your nails into his shoulder. “yeah? that feel good?” he starts thrusting into you. “my baby is making such pretty noises for me.” you’ve lost your train of thought, your mind only filled with binnie and the way he’s making you feel right now.

“oh-, bin-, fuck-“ you couldn’t get a coherent sentence out. truly being fucked dumb by the man above you. “that’s it bunny, just empty that pretty little brain of yours.” he slid his arm under your neck, pressing his body into yours. he brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing small circles as he increased his pace.

“oh god! binnie!” you wail, your legs wrapping around his waist. “wrap those pretty long legs around me bunny, there you go.” he places kisses along your jaw, both your arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer. one hand finding its way into his hair, as you turn your head into him.

“oh my god.” you groan into his ear, pulling at his hair slightly. “my beautiful baby feels so good for me.” he moans in your ear, causing you to clench around him. he groans, “fuck, you like when i call you my beautiful baby?” you cry out, nodding against him.

“is my pretty bunny about to cum?” your toes curl, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your tummy. “yes, yes, i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a cry, it’s almost too much pleasure, almost. “you’re close jagi i know, fuck.” his breathing getting heavier and heavier letting you know he’s close too.

“can you hold on for me?” you let out a high pitched whine. “i know pretty, just a little longer.” you whine again. “you can’t-“ you cut yourself off, trying to focus on anything but how good his making you feel. “you can’t, tell me to wait-“ you let out a moan, “and then call me pretty- oh fuck.” you feel it getting tighter, seconds away from snapping.

“i can’t, why not pretty? hm, cause my gorgeous baby is about to cum? is that it?” you cry out at his words, his teasing only egging you on. he leans down to your ear, still keeping his pace, hitting your sweet spot and rubbing your clit so deliciously. “so then cum bunny. show me how fucking perfect my jagiya is.” that’s all it takes, you let out a scream, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“fuck!” you tighten your legs around him, as much as you can as they’re shaking, toes curling as your orgasm rips through you. nails digging into his shoulder as you grab onto whatever you can to keep you grounded. “good job pretty, that’s my baby.” he’s fucking you through your high as you feel his hip stutter.

“fuck, bunny.” his thrusts are getting sloppy, knowing he’s close. “give it to me binnie. show me how much you love me.” and with that he’s cumming in your pretty pussy. he gives a few more thrusts before he stills in you, laying on top of you.

you both lay there, catching your breath, coming down from your highs. you’re the first to move, arms still wrapped around him, carding your fingers through his hair, placing kisses on the side of his head. he finally ground’s himself, placing a kiss to your shoulder, before moving to hover over you, your hands falling, landing on the back of his neck.

he looks down at you with nothing but love as he places his hand to your cheek, gently rubbing it. “you are so beautiful, my love.” your face warms once again. “thank you binnie, i love you.” he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

“i love you more my perfect jagi.” he says against your lips, causing a smile to spread across them. “i’m gonna pull out now okay? then we’ll get cleaned up and relax.” you nodded, stealing a quick peck before he leaned back, your legs falling onto the mattress as he pulled out. he hissed as he did, pulling a small whimper from you at the emptiness.

he, watches as his cum pours out of you, effectively ruining your sheets but he couldn’t care less. he leans down, kissing each thigh again, placing a soft kiss to your swollen clit, causing you to flinch. then your hips, making his way up, kissing every curve and roll on your soft tummy, giving each nipple their own kiss before finally making it back to your lips.

“my gorgeous, gorgeous bunny.” you smile pulling him closer, wrapping your legs around him once again, deepening the kissing. he pulls back, tapping the side of your ass, “come on, let’s get you cleaned up so you can relax.” he moves off the bed, quickly finding his boxers before pulling them back on.

he turns around to find you sitting on the bed, he picks you up bringing you to your bathroom, setting you on the counter. he turns on the bath, making it nice and warm before plugging the drain and putting your lavender bubble bath in.

walking back over to you, he picks you up once again, setting you on the toilet, placing a kiss to your head, “i’m gonna go change the sheets quick, i’ll be right back.” you nod at him, smiling as he makes his exit, closing the door behind him.

you quickly use the bathroom before stepping into the nice warm bath. he opens the door 10 minutes later, with towels, setting them on the counter before removing his boxers. you move forward as he approaches the tub to give him enough room to sit behind you.

once in the tub he pulls you back to him, wrapping his arms around you, showering you in kisses once more. you grab both hands, entwining his hands with yours, giving each hand a kiss, “thank you, for everything.” you turn your head to look back at him. “you’re the best person i know and i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he pulls you into another kiss before you relax against him once more. “you never have to thank me for telling the truth.” he pauses. “all i ask is that you tell me when you’re feeling like this so i can show you just how truly beautiful you are.” you feel a lump in your throat form at the love you feel for the man behind you.

you nod your head. “okay, i promise.” he holds you tighter, hands still connected, placing a kiss to your hair. you both stay like then until the water runs cold, draining it before you both get out, putting on the minimum amount of clothes.

making your way to your bed, with clean sheets, where you both spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, relaxing. you’re always gonna have bad days but it’s comforting to know you’re favorite person will always be there to help you through it and make it all better.

do not repost

[jennaispunk]

A Sunday Kind of Love

Summary: A lazy Sunday afternoon at the Miller House.

Pairing: Married!Joel Miller(Jackson!Joel) x f!reader(wife)

Rating: T

Word Count 1.2k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, domesticity, soft!Joel, reader(wife) can be picked up by Joel but no other physical description is given. Photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal Joel Sat on Me ‘24 challenge (Sorry this is so late,bb. I know fluff ain’t your stuff, but I hope you enjoy it anyway). This is what Joel deserves, to grow old and be happy with the love of his life. Special thanks to @sawymredfox for reading this over for me.

Moodboard by me. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sundays were meant for rest, a day to relax and recharge. Joel wasn’t on patrol, and you didn’t have to be at the stables. Honestly, it was your favorite day of the week. It was just the two of you, Ellie was at Dina’s. Nothing but peace and quiet surrounded you.

The late afternoon sun streams through the front window, warming your face. There’s not a single cloud marring the cerulean Wyoming sky. You lay on your back, stretched out on the worn sofa in your living room, your feet carefully tucked under your husband’s arm.

Although this couch had definitely seen better days, it was comfortable. In a way, it was a lot like Joel; a little rough around the edges but still a safe, cozy place to lay your head.

The birds chirp out a chorus, accompanying Joel as he strums a lazy tune on his guitar. A smile slowly spreads across your face as you immediately recognize the song, “Wish You Were Here”, by Pink Floyd. That song evokes memories, both happy and sad, for you both.

This is your favorite version of Joel, the one that’s relaxed and content, with a hint of a smile on his plush lips. Not much has changed about Joel since you’ve known him, except his waistline. You can’t help but notice how his jeans are a little snugger around his thighs and the way his flannel stretches across his belly as he leans his guitar against the wall next to the couch. It’s not really his fault, you all but forced him to become your official taste tester now that Mrs. Callahan is teaching you how to bake in exchange for giving her granddaughter horseback riding lessons. His growing belly is all the proof you need to know your baking skills have definitely improved.

You don’t mind the change, in fact, you like it. As far as you're concerned, it’s just more of him to love. His extra cushion keeps you warm now that the nights are getting a little colder, and his belly presses against you in the perfect way when he’s on top of you.

A brisk October breeze flows through the open window making you shiver a little. You reflexively wiggle your toes even further under Joel’s arm. The slight twitch of Joel’s body makes you smirk.

“Joel Miller, you’re ticklish.”

How could you not know this about the man you married? How had you never discovered this lovely little secret?

“M’not.” He grumbles.

He denies it too quickly, and your toes probe the area once again eliciting a soft chuckle and an even bigger jerk of his body.

“Careful, angel.” He warns, his eyes playfully narrowing. “If you keep on, you're going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.” You giggle and hold your hand out and make it tremble. A devious smirk plays on your lips.

You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you go for the kill, hands descending on that spot. His laughter rumbles through the air and you feel his belly shake. He manages to push your hands away, his eyes narrowing at you and it his turn to smirk.

“You’re really asking for it.”

Your eyebrows jerk to the sky in a silent taunt.

“Gotta catch me first, babe.”

You sprint away from the couch with him hot on your heels. You can’t stop squealing and laughing as he chases you around the kitchen toward the dining room table. You run around the table and immediately realize your mistake when you give yourself a moment to catch your breath.

Joel stares at you, eyes gleaming with mischief from across the table ready to pounce. He’s got you cornered with nowhere to go. You know you’re fucked but you juke right and make a mad dash to the left only to have Joel scoop you up and toss you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. You flail, laughing and gasping for air as he carries you to the bedroom.

“No, no, no.” you squeal as he throws you down on the bed.

He crawls on top of you pinning your hips to the bed between his thighs.

“Get off me, you big ol’ bear.” you giggle as your hands weakly try to push him away and you squirm under him.

“Too late.” he grumbles, smiling as he captures both your wrists in one hand and pins them to the bed above your head.

“You asked for this, angel.” He proceeds to assault your sides with his free hand, hitting your most ticklish area.

His thick thighs have rendered you incapable of moving anything but your lower legs, which are kicking wildly in vain. Your laughter fills the room between your gasps for air.

Tears trickle down your cheeks as your face begins to darken from laughing so hard. You know he’s taking pleasure in watching you writhe under him, struggling against his large body.

“Joel…” you plead. “Joel, please…I can’t…breathe…”

His hand slows to a stop, and he just watches you as you catch your breath. You look so beautiful with your face all flushed, your cheeks damp with tears of laughter. How did I get so goddamn lucky?

He lifts up and pushes your thighs apart, settling between them. His belly presses firmly against your core. He’s the best weighted blanket you ever had.

“Easy, honey.” He purrs, his voice low and gravely. “Just breathe.”

A few stray giggles escape your lips as you slowly begin to calm down. This is what it’s all about, what makes everything the two of you have been through worth it. This perfect moment when the rest of the world just disappears and the two of you are the only thing that exists.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.”

He presses his lips to yours. His tongue gently teases your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You part your lips for him, getting lost in the feel of his weight pressing you firmly into the mattress. You’re completely at his mercy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A rough hand glides down your side to the waistband of your leggings, his other hand still restraining your wrists above your head. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, something he likes to do to remind himself that your real and not just a figment of his imagination. You’re here, and you’re his.

“I love you, too.”

You hum softly as his lips brush against your jaw, his scruff lightly dragging across your skin. You never thought you’d find happiness again after being alone for so long, but happiness was right in front of you in the form of a burly former contractor that almost everyone else in Jackson was just a little afraid of.

He lets go of your wrists and pushes your shirt up over your stomach as his lips continue to lovingly assault the soft skin of your neck.

“Aren’t we supposed to be at Tommy and Maria’s for Sunday dinner soon?”

His warm breath tickles your neck as he chuckles softly.

“Yeah...” he breathes against your skin. “but they can wait.”

You can’t help but giggle as he playfully nips your neck, right over the spot that makes you arch your back into him.

Joel’s right. They can definitely wait.

[thir10th]

too many shoes - October writing challenge day 4

summary: moving in together was the best thing that could happen to you, however there'a this one thing you've been avoiding tw: none, this is pure fluff a/n: this is probs one of my most favorite things I’ve written, so make sure to lmk if you love it just as much! ❤️

It's only one week that you've been living together but most of the boxes were already empty and things are on its place, it was almost a miracle considering the amount of free days you have, and how effectively you had both worked it all.

The living room was for sure the hardest to put up, but since it was done, it was the centre of the house.

The big couch is enough to let you both lay comfortably on oposite ends, or at least it would be if you didn't prefer to be completely wrapped up on each other.

Emily's head rests comfortably on your shoulder, and you play with her hair absentmindedly and the movie almost finishing up.

"I'm never getting tired of it" you said, the rom com with the ending credits rolling on the screen being one of your favorites.

"yeah it's nice" Emily says with a smile plastered on her face, you kiss her on the head, sitting up to grab the remote.

"you know what i wish they did?" she says, grabbing a pillow and hugging it.

"hm?" you ask, turning the tv off and looking at her, her hair all sprawled out, her Yale hoodie and sweat pants, the pillow on her lap and a blanket over her shoulders. She looks so cuddly liked that.

The image of Emily like that- so sweet and calm, it's one you couldn't picture anywhere else that wasn't your now called home, you smile at her, that comforting feeling of your shared space feeling warm on your stomach.

"lesbian romcoms" she says, taking you out of your head "they don't do lesbian romcoms like this, only the sad, coming out, historical dramas, they're all so sad" she complains.

"yeah, you're right" you agree

"it would be so sweet to just have a silly meet-cute, or a love triangle, or an opposites attract with lesbians, i would watch it" you love her rambling so much, it makes you smile how she only choses to show that side of herself with you.

"I would gladly watch that with you, my love" you lower to kiss her lips softly, she grabs your face softly and you feel her smile against the kiss, her hands feel warm despite her usual cold fingers.

"you know what? I've got an idea" you say, separating from the kiss.

"do you wanna make our own lesbian romcom?" she asks, lifting one eyebrow seductively, it makes you laugh.

"no- I mean, yes, but later" you peck her lips and hold both her hands "we are gonna do... the closet" you announce, and you can see the moment it sinks in.

"oh, right now? c'mon, it's too much work, we got home early today, why don't we watch something else? a lesbian thing this time like The L word or something" you pull her, but she uses her body weight to stay sitting on the big couch.

"Oh c'mon Em, we'll do it together, and it will be super fast, c'mon let's go, i don't wanna shuffle through another box for my work clothes tomorrow" you pull her up against her efforts of staying seated, but eventually gives out, standing straight, wrapping her arm around yours for support.

The closet is big. Bigger than any other closet you've ever had. The walk in space can easily be divided for you and Emily.

The amount of boxes is probably bigger even than the kitchen boxes, which shouldn't come as a surprise considering the amout of shoes Emily has.

"ugh, we will never finish with all of these, it's too much stuff" she complains while shuffling through another box.

"we won't with that attitude, i'm sure, and also not with the amount of shoes here. Do you really need another pair of black boots? I swear you have like ten"

"First of all, that's an exaggeration, I only have 6, and second, yes, I do. Each one has its own personality.” she grins, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Ah, of course. I’d hate to stifle their individual identities.” you laugh, mimicking her tone.

She giggles "now you're catching up."

Emily reaches over to grab an item on the pile of clothes she's been separating. "Hey, have you seen my top that goes with this pants?" she asks, and you lift your sweatshirt to show her the small shirt"

"Oops" you say, and she smiles knowingly.

"I don't even know why we bother separating if you keep stealing all my clothes" she shrugs.

"Hey! You steal my clothes too" you try to defend, but Emily laughs, you know she was just teasing you.

"it's ok baby i don't mind, you do make everything I own look pretty irresistible.” she smirks.

“Flattery isn’t going to save you from this" you grab yet another thing from the pile of clothes.

"Oh, c'mon, i already came out of the closet when i was young, i don't want to enter it again" she smiles proudly of her own joke, and shakes her shoulders.

"And funny is not going to stop me from donating this one.” you say, throwing a shirt at her playfully.

“That was from when I was in Rome! You can’t get rid of my history!” she mock gasps, dramatically clutching the shirt.

“Fine, fine, it stays. But the next hoodie you leave on my side of the closet is officially mine.” you accept, folding a hoodie.

“Deal. I’m not even mad about that. You look cuter in them anyway.” she says, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

Teasingly, you raise an eyebrow “You just like an excuse to see me in your clothes.”

"Well, you're not wrong" she smirks, grabbing another shirt to fold.

After a while, you notice her eyeing a particularly vibrant red dress, its fabric shimmering slightly in the closet's light. She holds it up, letting it sway gently in front of her. “You know, I wore this on a date once. I thought I’d impress this girl, but she ended up being more into my friend,” she laughs, the sound light and airy.

“Hey, I’d be into you in that dress,” you say, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

“Really?” she teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You think I’d look good in it? Maybe I should try it on for you...”

You chuckle, your heart fluttering at the suggestion. “I think it’s more than just the dress that would impress me.”

Emily’s cheeks flush a shade deeper as she bites her lip, her gaze playful yet earnest. “You know what? I think I will. And while I’m at it, we should plan on making our own romcom after this...” she adds, her eyes shining with excitement and mischief.

You nod, appreciating the thought. “Sounds perfect. I could use some of that after all this heavy lifting.”

“Oh yes. You're still wearing my clothes after all” she laughs, and winks at you, and then with a playful glint in her eye, she slips the dress off its hanger and heads toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back!”

You watch her go, heart racing a little at the thought of her in that dress. A few moments later, she emerges, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly, the neckline just low enough to be enticing without being over the top.

"oh fuck-" that's the only thing that comes out of you when she steps back in.

“How do I look?” she asks, twirling playfully, the dress swirling around her.

“Like you just stepped out of a movie,” you say, your voice a mix of admiration and sincerity. “Seriously, you look stunning.”

Emily beams, her confidence radiating off her in waves. “I feel like I should be on a date or something.”

“Or starring in our own romantic comedy,” you suggest, your gaze steady on her, drinking in every detail—the way the dress accentuates her figure, the way she moves with such ease.

“Right? Like, imagine a silly meet-cute where I trip over my own feet and fall right into your arms,” she laughs, her eyes sparkling. “And then it turns into this wild adventure where we fight the odds and end up together, just like in those movies.”

“Definitely. You’d have to make it a happy ending, though,” you reply, stepping closer to her, feeling the magnetic pull of her presence.

Emily bites her lip, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she murmurs, glancing up at you through her lashes.

You take a moment to soak in her words and the beauty before you, feeling her playfulness. “You really could pull off that whole leading lady vibe,” you say softly, your heart racing as you lean in just a little closer.

“Maybe I could use a leading lady to match,” she replies, her voice dipping into something a bit more sultry. “What do you think? You up for the challenge?”

You can feel the warmth radiating from her, your heart pounding in your chest. “I think I can handle that,” you whisper, and without thinking, you close the distance, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. It’s tender, electric- the domesticity feeling so natural you could melt against her any second.

As you pull back, Emily smiles shyly, her cheeks still flushed from both the kiss, and the thought of it. She grabs your hand and pulls you outside “c'mon, let's come out of the closet- again"

You laugh softly, pulling her closer to you. "We don't need the straight romcoms while we have each other." you kiss her again, she hums against your lips, agreeing with you.

"And the L word, of course" you add, making Emily laugh.

“Sounds perfect,” she replies, her smile brightening the room, making it feel less like a space filled with boxes and more like your own little world, where everything was just right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part three max verstappen x fem! driver! reader (fluff) series summary . . . when the lives of an f1 and wec prodigies collide, hey find out hey find out that they're not that different and carve out a place for their selves in each others hearts. the commentators from sky sports call this puppy love

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

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yn.halimi

liked by landonorris maxverstappen1 and 21.6k others y.ln p4 on first our race, not where we wanted to be but we'll get there!! round one, check ✅ imola next, can't wait 👋

landonorris Y/NNN ⤷ yn.halimi LANDOO

username good luck

ferrarihypercar you did an amazing job out there! ⤷ yn.halimi forza ragazzi ❤️

username Wtf Porsche dominated like Red Bull in f1. A lot of work to do for Ferrari. But forza Ferrari

carlossainz55 Ojalá hubiera podido venir a mirar [wish i could have come and watched] ⤷ yn.halimi La próxima vez! Acabo de recibir noticias sobre tu p3, va a ser una gran temporada👍[next time. i just received news about your p3, it's going to be a great season] ⤷ carlossainz55 cuándo será la próxima vez? imola? [when will be the next time? imola?] ⤷ yn.halimi sí, Imola en abril. eso es hasta ahora [yea, imola in april] ⤷ landonorris soy lago ⤷ yn.halimi dora the explorer did not teach you well

username Consider Qatar 1812 a race about discovery, of finding out a lot about the car 🏎️🐎

maxverstappen1 thumbs up ⤷ landonorris soy lago ⤷ landonorris i think max is having a stroke? ⤷ yn.halimi soy lago? you trying to show off your spanish skills?😂

username I see the F1 ferrari energy slowly transferring to WEC

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thumbs up. you couldn't hold in the smile that curled on your lips as you re-read the comment. exiting your profile and going to dms, you didn't scroll far to reach the desired contact.

'saw you asked for me the other night' you typed, turning you phone off after so you could slip in your bed and shut your eyes for the night. it had been a long day for you and now that you were finally back in your hotel you couldn't wait for some proper rest.

but maybe you could stay up a little longer. Once your phone buzzed from on the nightstand you'd snatched it and unlocked it. 'we were playing fifa and i wanted to beat you' you couldn't feel the wide smile that stuck on your face. 'fifa you say? i might not have my console with me but i have some free time and my soccer shoes' you typed back quickly seeing he was still online and in the chat.

'what do you have in mind?' if your smile could have gotten any bigger, it would've. you sat up looking around your room. after a few seconds of thinking you looked back down at your phone. 'see you in jeddah?'

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The weather didn't bother you that much. you barely ever wear revealing clothes so wearing modest clothes didn't feel odd. you were too busy dribbling the football to be bothered by something irrelevant as clothes anyways, especially since max was chasing you and trying to steal the ball away.

Unlike the dutch who didn't waste any of his time going over to jeddah, you arrived during the evening, sometime after four. it was only at 5:30 did the two of you decide to actually go through with the plan of having a small football match together.

You were very surprised that the dutchman had accommodated for your time together at his hotel, somehow managing to book the tennis courts and take out the nets so you could makeshift a football field. It was a single goalie match, your shoes that you never got to wear making where the goal was.

"That's cheating." You huff-laughed, pushing him back with your shoulder. You must not have been in race mode because Max's reaction time skills were still on. in your moment of weakness he was able to steal the ball and take his shot to the bake shift goal. "Yea!" He cheered throwing his hands up, dabbing.

Crouched down on your knees, you tried to hold in a laugh at max. "That doesn't cpunt! You cheated!" You accused, getting back up on your feet. the time was sometime in early 6 and the sky had taken a nice gold and orange colour. "Contact!" Max fiend hurt as you you pushed your side into his sending him a couple of steps to regain his balance. "a 5-second time penalty for ms. L/N." "A fine for mr. verstappen." "A fine?" max put a hand on his chest making a shocked face. "Oh dear, go easy my bank account."

"Hmm" you put your hands on your hips, pretending to think. "I'm sorry mr. verstappen, but it's pretty big fine." "oh no. How much?" he played along, pretending to be worried and shocked.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"It's bad they don't serve wine here, I'd be getting two gorgeous bottles of 1945 Domaine de la Romanee-Conti." You hummed, whispering about the wine once the waiter severed your table and left. "1945 what?" Max chuckled as took a sip of his drink ( which was actually just redbull in a fancy glass ) before picking up his fork to begin with the mini feast you ordered.

"Expensive french stuff." you shrugged, starting to eat from your own plate. "How expensive." He asked, chewing and looking at you. You gave another shrug, drinking your own drink (which was also just redbull in a fancy glass) to help swallow. "about 558k?" Max chocked on his food momentarily and you laughed at his reaction.

[star-suh]

Don't Chew More Than You Can Swallow

Johnny Suh x Male Reader

cw: top johnny, pseudo-incest, underwear kink, musk kink, degradation, praising, breeding, hickeys, blowjob, deepthroat, manhandling, implied size kink, snowballing, age gap (yn is 20 and johnny is 25).

an: this is the other idea from @ldrei

also i was lazy to think about names for the mom and the stepfather so yuh.

—

“ok yn, i want you to put on a smile on that face we're almost near the house” yn's mom said while driving towards their new home.

some years ago yn was part of a loving and happy family until one day his father, an honorable police officer, died during a raid against a gang. yn and his mother were devastated, mourning his death for the next couple of months. but life goes on and we have to let go and move on, right? after like a year yn's mother started dating another police officer, months later they made their relationship official and decided to get married, which brings us to the beginning of the story, yn and his mother would move to their new home, where yn's new father and new brother, a 25 years old guy, live already.

“hello we're home” yn's mom greeted, “hey honey” yn's stepdad appeared and kissed her, “hey yn, how are you?”; “i'm good.. thanks” he replied, “glad to know that” the older man said with a smile on his face.

yn walked towards the kitchen searching for a glass to drink some water, “the cups are up there” someone said, yn turned around and there he was his new stepbrother “the name's johnny” he extended his hand and yn grabbed it to shake it, his hand was way bigger than yn's, “i'm yn.. n-nice to meet you” he laughed nervously, “i say the same, see you later then” johnny said winking at him and waving a goodbye.

a couple of months have passed, everything was going good for everyone except for yn. he was thirsting over johnny 24/7, when he walked around the house with just a short on and no underwear because he can clearly see his bulge swing around everytime he walks, his body is to die for ‘god i wish i could lick those abs right now’ thought yn. it was even more harder for yn to not think about johnny fucking him when he was on the room next to him rearranging some woman's insides, the banging sounds going straight to yn's ears, ‘i wish that was me’ he thought. and that's the only thing yn can do, fantasize about him because well… his stepbrother is straight.

johnny sent yn to search something in his room, he did as he was told but something catches his attention, a pair of underwears resting on a pile of clothes. driven by his impulses, he grabbed one and began to sniff it, his face immediately turning red and a bulge growing in his pants "johnny~" he moaned softly.

he went quickly to his room, locked the door and began to jerk off, wrapping the underwear around his cock sliding it up and down while biting a pillow to suppress the moans.

the weeks passed and yn's desire for johnny only increased. every time johnny brought someone home to fuck, while his parents were away, yn always masturbated listening to their moans.

one day yn was masturbating again with his the underwear until a voice interrupted him, "hey yn!" a shirtless johnny called opening the door with a bang "what the hell were you doing? i've been calling you for a while" he asked with a somewhat angry tone. "sorry johnny, what do you want?" yn questioned, "these last few months you have been the one picking the dirty clothes to take them to the laundry room, have you by any chance seen my underwear? they have been missing” he scratches his head. “i have no idea johnny” yn replied with a nervous laugh. “hmm… it's okay” and just like that, johnny left.

worried that johnny would find out, he grabbed all the dirty clothes and ran down to the laundry room. there he turned on the washing machine and placed the underwear there and just when he was going to press the button to start the washing cycle a big hand stopped him, a low and very deep voice whispered in his ear "i thought you didn't know where my fucking underwear was" the warm breath sending shivers down his spine, “you're such a dirty pervert yn” he laugh was deep and sexy.

“j-johnny i-i” yn didn't know what to do, “you thought you were slick with it but no, did you think i didn't notice how you stared at me every time i walked around the house shirtless, how your eyes went from my abs to my bulge, shit i even could feel how you fucked me with your eyes”. johnny positioned himself behind yn, his huge bulge rubbing against yn's ass, "even every night i fucked someone i could hear your slutty moans on the other side of the wall, how you moaned my name was… so sexy... now i kinda want to hear them again" the taller was leaving small kisses on yn's neck, he then took out his huge cock from his shorts and rubbed it on yn's clothed ass “do you want to taste my cock, yn?", his sexy low voice doing things down there on yn's crotch area.

“j-johnny” yn stuttered “i-i'm sorry” a little moan escaping his mouth. “if you want to apologize you have to take responsibility about this” he slams his thick heavy cock against yn's ass again. “y-yes” yn fell to his knees and started kissing the tip, using one hand to stroke the rest of the shaft while the other was stroking his own.

“you're so nasty yn, look at you sucking at your brother's cock. aren't you such a nasty slut huh?” johnny grabs his head and starts to mouthfuck him, forcing yn to deepthroat him, “come on you can do more than that, it's barely halfway in”, little by little yn swallowed it all, johnny locked his head with his arms. the gagging sounds being like music to his ears. “there you go, you're doing so good for me”.

johnny lifted yn and fold him against the washing machine, rubbing the tip of his cock in the other's hole “want me to destroy you, cockwhore?” he says once again using that sexy low voice that drives yn crazy “p-please~ do it”.

johnny was slamming so hard that the washing machine was moving too, yn's legs were shaking due to how good johnny was fucking him, "how does my little fucktoy feel.. is this what you wanted? my thick, heavy cock opening your ass?"; “yes johnny please wreck me” yn replied withiut thinking, “so desperate”.

johnny lifted yn and carried him from the laundry room to his bedroom but without stopping fucking him. the thrusts were slow but as powerful as the harsh ones because he always manages to brush yn's prostate with the tip of his cock, drawing whimpers out of his mouth that made johnny chuckle, ‘so cute’ he thinks.

they're finally on the bedroom, johnny throw yn towards his bed, attacking his neck with kisses and leaving some bruises here and there. his big, tall body towering over yn's. “i have a deal for you” the taller comments, “if you can take me without cumming you'll be my little fucktoy boyfriend. what do you think?” he keeps on kissing yn's body until he reaches the nipples and suck on them. “hngh i really w-want that” the bottom squirmed.

the fat cock went in and out, going in even harder than the last time, johnny's balls slapping against yn's ass “who's being a good cockwhore?” the top asks, “m-... me” yn struggles to answer due to the harsh thrusts “i'm johnny's g-good cockwhore”.

“but you're only mine right?”.

“yeah i'm only yours…”.

both sealed the deal with a gentle kiss, contrasting with the rough thrusts. “fuck i'm gonna cum” johnny growls, he took advantage of the fact that his cock reached so deep inside yn to make him cum, however he let himself be carried away by the moment and filled yn's ass up with that warm sperm.

yn barely managed to hold off his cumming so johnny now has to fulfill the deal they just made. "it seems like i'm your little fucktoy boyfriend now"; "i think so," johnny adds, “and a cute one”.

“you took me so well pretty boy, i think you deserve a threat” and as he said that he went down and started to suck yn's cock “j-johnny you don't have to~”; “mmm mmm, i want to, prince” the sweet name embarrasing yn so much that he covered his face with his arms, feeling the little chuckle the taller let out. with a few more strokes yn came inside johnny's mouth, “shit that's some good blowjob johnny” yn rode his high while johnny crawls up until he is face to face with yn, with one hand he opens the bottom's mouth and spits the sperm in there, then kisses and plays with it between their mouths.

johnny carries yn to the bathroom where they both take a bath, then get dressed and fall asleep in the bed.

“look at them, aren't they cute” yn's mom said watching them both sleeping while hugging, “yeah i think they're gonna be good brothers” the stepdad adds with a huge smile in his face.

[crguang]

wasted with longing, part 2

You have never been so bothered in your life. Why? You refuse to admit it to yourself yet.

friends with benefits, afab!reader, gp!kafka, smut, mutual masturbation, facetime/video call sex, 6k words

A/N: after two whole months… we’re so back (im sorry). i giggled a lot writing this because the simple concept of fuckboy kafka is so ridiculous but i swear there’s a plot somewhere

part one part three

The bright light of your laptop screen starts to burn your retinas, and you blink quickly to chase away the fatigue building up under your eyelids. The words on the page stopped mattering over an hour ago yet you’re in no position to throw your work to the wind; you’ve already made it this far and this presentation is due in exactly 12 hours and 33 minutes. You’re at a stage where you blame everything and everyone that has ever contributed in leading you to where you sit against your bed’s headboard, lights dimmed low as your fingers brush over the keyboard in clicking sounds you’re deafened to. Your anxiety is the only thing keeping you awake, and if you cared about your job just a little less, you would have quit right then. You thought you’d left all-nighters in the past with boring college classes and tiny dorm rooms but life has an irritating way of repeating itself. 

You let out the hundredth sigh of the hour and take a moment to breathe in slowly through your nose, head tilted to the ceiling and eyes screwed shut, before exhaling loudly. You steel yourself for what you know is at least another hour of bullshitting statistics that you will do your best to present confidently this afternoon, but you can’t even pretend to like what you do anymore. Working in research has never been the most exciting career despite the occasional interesting discoveries you’ve been a part of. Still, you needed a job that would allow you to afford to live on your own in a city far away from your nagging parents and you were getting good at denying the fact that it is sucking the soul out of you. Your days are mundane, your routine unsatisfying, and you long for something more like most adults your age. You can’t quit until you find a better alternative that will pay you the same or more, so you bite back another exasperated groan and go back to your slides.

You wouldn’t be in this position eight days ago. You’ve had a week to come up with this presentation and instead of working on it like the diligent employee you usually are, most of your time was spent with your head in the clouds, preoccupied by someone who isn’t thinking about you. It makes you sick how bothered you are. It’s not like anything changed between the last time you talked and the one before that, and you were never as distracted by the lack of response as you have been this past week. You ignored your responsibilities, went out with friends four days in a row to convince yourself of your fake nonchalance just to find yourself in trouble that could have easily been avoided, anxious over the career you’ve worked so hard to earn.

Nothing good comes out of allowing that woman a bigger place in your thoughts than the three square feet corner she deserves, you know that. What frustrates you the most is that you don’t understand where this sudden concern for her lack of honesty comes from. Lies flow out of her like she was born with them on her lips; again, you know that. Then, what is the issue? Without identifying the root of the problem, you’re left a snowball of jumbled thoughts and insecurity steadily getting bigger as it nears the foot of the mountain until it inevitably crashes into a tree and falls apart completely. Why say things she doesn’t mean? Are you disposable? You hate her. Does she hate you? You should block her number. Why do you care? Screw her. 

…You wish you could.

Your laptop screen turns dark and snatches you back to reality. You got lost in thought again. You run a hand over your face, using two fingers to rub the inner corner of your eyes. You’re pathetic. Even now with this feeling of impending doom looming over you, your mind drifts to her and attempts to find reason behind her actions when there is likely none. Your work is important to you, she is not. Yet, you’re incapable of focusing on the PowerPoint in front of you. You start to wonder if you should lie down, rest your eyes for a few hours and finish the presentation when you wake up, right before you get ready to leave for the office. It would be cutting it extremely close, but you can’t think clearly anymore and the stress gets more paralyzing as the minutes go by. Another tired sigh escapes you. Maybe you simply need to relax a little, perhaps with some scalding tea. 

You push your laptop aside and stretch your body on the covers, arms over your head like a lazy cat. You’ll prepare a cup of tea to soothe your muscles then you’ll finish your work and go to bed. If you lie to yourself enough times, you believe you can make it. You straighten up and smooth down your hair. You’re about to stand up when a familiar ping! near you announces a new text message. You reach for your phone on your nightstand, thinking perhaps one of your friends got drunk again and needed a ride home, and tap the screen to open your notification center. 

You stare at the screen until it turns black, tap it so it lights up again and repeat the process a couple more times as your mind processes what your eyes are seeing and the implications behind it. You almost can’t believe the message you just got and have to click the notification to open up the private conversation; there, at 2:29 AM, Kafka sent you a video. You can’t make out much from the blurry cover, though the lighting seems low like it was filmed during the late evening. Your thumb hovers over it for a moment, wondering if she even meant to send that to you since she hasn’t texted or called since the last time you hooked up. In hindsight her behaviour is not so unusual, you thought you were used to her elusive ways but if the past week has taught you anything, it’s that you obviously expect something from her. Honesty, basic human decency— to not leave you feeling like a wet towel discarded in the laundry bin after she’s used it.

“…Fuck it.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you despite your self-pity at the prospect of always making yourself available for her no matter the time. It’s a coincidence, you tell yourself. The two of you have many of those. You press the play icon on the video and it expands to the full screen. The camera shakes a little, then steadies to show half of Kafka’s body from an inclined angle and part of her face, peach lips on display. She’s wearing a strapless dress, the kind only worn to impress, with a pearl necklace over her collarbone; it’s your first time seeing her in something other than casual clothes. You have to admit that you wish you could’ve seen the whole outfit, if only to… You don’t know. 

Kafka is sitting on a bed judging by the white sheets you can spot, and you blink several times at the unmistakable outline of her cock and hard nipples through the material of her dress. You watch in disbelief as she pulls the fabric up to her waist, revealing the garter belt around one of her thighs. Her hand slithers between her breasts and down her stomach to finally disappear under her clothes, but the way she begins stroking herself is purposely obvious. The head of her cock creates a tent meant to remind you of how big she is, and she pumps her shaft steadily, her lips parting slightly to let out low hums of pleasure. You stare, unmoving, unaware of your pulse’s quicker pace as Kafka jerks off on video, the erotic tone of her long moans filling your bedroom, and you don’t register turning up the volume a bit more. Her hand speeds up a touch, you think she must have already been hard before recording because she clearly won’t last much longer, but instead of rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all, you find yourself hoping she’ll take off that dress and give you a real show. Kafka’s breathing becomes heavier, her moans less controlled, and from this angle, you notice the movement of her hips eager to meet each stroke along her cock. Her thumb swipes over her sensitive tip and her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth at the pleasant sensation. Not a single word is uttered, you can’t hear anything in the background either— not that you were listening for it— it’s just the sinful sounds of her throaty hums and her fingers around her dick. Half a minute passes before her breath hitches in a sharp gasp, and you know she’s going to come right before she does. Your thighs squeeze together at the breathy moan that spills from her mouth, her hand still gently stroking herself. Her lips stretch into that teasing smile you can picture with your eyes closed, and the video ends. 

You’re harshly pulled from the daze you were in, staring at your phone. You don’t know what to think, she ignores you for a week then sends you a video of her masturbating at two in the morning with nothing else attached. You can’t deny that it had the desired effect on you; your body feels hotter under your sleeping clothes and your thighs are still pressed together to ignore the throb between them, but once again you attempt to figure out the reasoning behind what she does and come up empty. There’s no use in trying to pry open a steel safe that is sealed shut, so why do you try over and over like you have nothing better to do? Why show up with blowtorches and lock picks when your presence is unwanted inside?

Kafka uses you for pleasure, and you use her the same. That is the nature of your relationship. So, you decide to take that video at face value and press replay. Leaning back against the headboard, you bite your cheek as Kafka’s hand travels up and down her veiled cock while your own restlessly traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. It wanders up your body to cup one breast under your shirt, thumb softly circling a stiffening nipple. You pinch it between two fingers at the same time Kafka lets out a pretty moan and you feel arousal dampening your underwear at the various stimuli. The video ends before you can move on to your thighs and you have to replay it again, and again, to properly build up your orgasm before you’re needy enough to slip a hand under your sticky panties. Your middle finger applies pressure on your puffy clit in tight little circles, jolts of pleasure shooting through you and tightening your stomach.

Eyes half-lidded, you forget all about your work to prioritize the need in your cunt, unconsciously matching Kafka’s pace and wishing she was there to take care of you the way only she knows how. Your hips move with the fingers that rub between your wet folds in a messy pattern. You breathe in sharply through your mouth when one of them finds your clit again and firmly toys with it. You’re so aroused, so wet and needy, but watching Kafka’s playful performance through a phone screen with only half of her body shown and her cock hidden from sight isn’t enough. Desperation builds within your lower belly as you inch a finger past your entrance, barely biting back a breathy moan at the feeling. It sinks in effortlessly, so you add another after adjusting to the slight stretch of it rubbing your inner walls. Your other hand holds the phone closer to your face like that will make Kafka seem more tangible. You pump two digits into your pussy, coating them in your arousal, and it feels so good, has your thighs spreading further apart, but it’s not enough. 

A frustrated sigh leaves you. You don’t think before exiting the video and pressing the video call button. The line rings once, twice, and your fingers slip out of you as you wait to see if it’ll connect. After a few more seconds, you choose to save face and go to hang up just as it connects with the other line and Kafka’s smirking face comes into view. You blame the stutter of your chest on your arousal. She blows smoke through her mouth and faces away from the camera for a moment to put out the cigarette you caught her smoking. She’s in casual clothes once again, and by the lighting, you infer that it’s likely afternoon wherever she is. That video she sent must have been filmed earlier than the time it was received, it might also be an older one from before you met. You mistake your disappointment for annoyance. 

“What is wrong with you?” Your stern voice has a shaky edge to it that Kafka definitely notices. Her smile widens an inch. 

“You look a little… flushed. Saw something you like?”

“Fuck you. It’s almost three in the morning.”

“Is that how late it is there? Mmm, it slipped my mind.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that,” you put down the phone for an instant, pulling your pyjamas down your legs to toss them onto the bed. You bring the device back up and recline on the pillows, holding it high enough for Kafka to have a view of your torso and the stiff nipples poking through your half-ridden shirt. 

Kafka’s lowered gaze unapologetically trails down your upper body. You cup your breast, softly kneading the soft mound between your fingers, and watch her eyes darken with desire.

“I can’t come over.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t ask you to. Just need to hear you.”

“Cute. What if I’m not alone?” Her tone is teasing but she does look up from the screen as if someone could walk by and catch you touching yourself. 

“Figure it out.”

“Bossy… And so aroused, aren’t you? From a simple video, no less.”

You let the confident drawl of her words wash over you, ignoring her attempts at riling you up further to focus on the familiar pitch of her voice. It’s rough, intentionally slowed to keep people’s attention solely on what she has to say and control the pace of the conversation, dripping like syrup. You relax into the mattress and let your hand wander down the valley of your breasts, caressing the curves of your stomach. You’re already turned on and aching for release, each brush of your fingertips against your skin requires restraint not to slip a hand between your thighs and circle your clit. Your little show seems to give Kafka a taste of her own medicine, she observes you for a while, her gaze piercing through the veil of lust over her irises. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

“I would if you talked me through it,” you reply, expectant, lips parting as your hand teasingly disappears below the camera to massage the flesh of your inner thigh. 

Kafka hums, amused and intrigued. You’re sure she can tell how worked up you are and is debating helping you or leaving you wanting. Then she moves, the camera following her every step, and walks somewhere you hope is a secluded room. You don’t recognize her surroundings, she seems to be inside a building but the phone is too close to her face to show anything else properly.

“Did I wake you?” She asks on the way, barely looking away from the screen to watch where she’s going and instead focusing on how your hand travels back up your abdomen, lifting your shirt and revealing more of your chest as it goes. 

“No, but it was a welcomed distraction. Walk faster.”

Kafka laughs at your impatience, the sound lighter than her usual arrogant or mocking chuckles and betraying her genuine amusement. There’s a fluttering sensation behind the walls of your heart like the wings of a panicked bird. 

“Why? You in a hurry?”

“Yes.”

Kafka enters a room drowning in sunlight, brighter than wherever she was before. You hear the sound of the door closing, then a lock turning before she walks further into the room to sit at what you presume is a desk. The phone is placed far enough from her frame to allow you a full view of her upper body over the wooden surface and the twin-sized bed behind her. The covers are unruffled, the walls barren and white, and you think she might be in a simple hotel room. She leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting her cheek against the back of her hand. The index finger of her free hand absentmindedly taps the desk’s surface, mirroring her steady heartbeat. She gazes at you like you’re the most interesting sight she’s seen in days. 

“You look so needy… desperate for my touch.” Kafka drinks in the image of you sprawled on your bed, the lower half of your left breast exposed to her hungry eyes. Her mind conjures up many ways she would touch you if she were there, feeling your stumbling breaths in the crook of her neck. “What’s the matter? Can’t come without me anymore?”

Irritation swirls in your gut, mixing with the arousal pooling in your belly at her nonchalant arrogance. Her self-assurance infuriates you mostly because it’s not entirely unfounded; you do wish she was present in person to fuck your worries away but she could be on the other side of the planet for all you know, doing Aeons know what. You don’t have a retort, and you’re in no mood to be teased any more than you felt watching that short video of Kafka stroking herself. 

“It goes faster this way,” you lie.

“Mmm… Show me how you touch yourself when I’m not there.”

Her words make your pussy throb. You bite your lip, adjusting your hold on the phone and lowering the camera so she can’t see past your mouth but has a better view of your body. From this angle, the waistband of your underwear is visible just under your stomach. Your fingers dig into your pliable breast, kneading the mound like she usually does to you, occasionally toying with the nipple for the pleasant sensation that ripples through you and causes your thighs to twitch. Kafka’s intense gaze, deeply pleased at your immediate compliance, excites you like nothing else. You know she’s not as unaffected by the sight as she seems to be, her finger drums on the desk a tad faster when you twist your nipple and part your lips to exhale audibly. Your hand leaves your chest and you lower your phone further to follow its path across your torso until it reaches the band of your already slick panties. You sneak a finger under the thin material and Kafka speaks up again.

“Take them off. Let me see you.”

Hesitation takes hold of you for a second, and then you obey her sultry command, shifting to pull the underwear past your hips and down to your ankles. You angle the phone to provide her with a clear view of your wet cunt, breath hitching as Kafka unconsciously wets her lips and the drumming noise stops completely. She’s a statue of desire on the other side of the screen, her heavy stare locked on your fingers spreading your lower lips apart, puffy clit on display. You don’t wait for any other instructions, your need is too great to go unchecked a minute longer; you use your index to circle the bud in quick, desperate motions. Your body’s temperature rises a few degrees and a short, involuntary moan spills past your lips. Your eyes are tempted to close under such stimulation but you want to see Kafka’s every microexpression, every twitch of her mouth and fall of her chest, the flex of her hand against her cheek and the movement of her irises following your ministrations.

“Are you picturing me? My hands on your body, touching you just how you like it?”

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth to seal another soft moan. “Yeah…” 

Kafka’s fingers are skilled and precise, stimulating the most sensitive parts of you, some of which didn’t exist before she touched you. She’s learned you by heart as one does a music sheet and makes you sing in a way impossible to replicate alone, an artist missing their accompaniment. You imagine her palms brushing across your chest, teasingly squeezing one breast while her lips ghost over the skin of your jaw, trailing wet kisses up to your cheek. You imagine her slender fingers sinking into your inner thighs to keep them spread before her, drinking in the erotic sight you create under her. You swipe at your clit, each breath heavier than the one before, and observe her body language; how she uncrosses her legs and her hand on the desk disappears beneath the surface, how she tucks away a stray strand of hair so it doesn’t obstruct her vision, the apparent lust in her eyes almost turning their color a shade closer to magenta. Her attention feels like the many cocktails you drank this last week, smoldering down your throat and intoxicating your every nerve. It tightens your lower belly and makes you throb, entrance gushing even when she’s likely thousands of miles away. Your orgasm builds and builds, pleasure steadily mounting and promising salvation the closer you get to the edge. 

If her camera was positioned better, you would have seen her pointer and middle fingers drawing circles on her thighs not unlike how you’re stimulating your aching clit, slowly inching higher until they softly stroke the prominent swell over her shorts. You would have been privy to them slipping under her clothes, past her boxers, to caress along her cock from tip to base and draw a sharp intake of breath from her. You’re too lost in the pleasure to notice her next swallow as she wraps a hand around herself and masturbates in tandem with your heavy exhales. Just as you did, she pictures your wandering hands, your warm tongue licking broad stripes up her cock and the quiver of your brow when you struggle to take her into your mouth. You look up at her prettily through wet eyelashes, eager to please, and you suck her dry as she paints your throat white. 

Your camera trembles, you struggle to keep it still while you work to make yourself come, digits stuttering on your clit with quiet moans on the tip of your tongue. You’re so close that you barely compute what Kafka is saying.

“You look about ready to come. Are you going to come just from the sight of me?”

She sounds way too pleased for your liking but you can’t bother to care at this moment, all that matters is your impending release. You nod quickly.

“Yeah? Let me hear you.”

“Fuck…” you manage to breathe out, hips desperately bucking into your hand, chasing relief from the pressure building in your belly. 

You don’t contain your pitiful sounds of pleasure at Kafka’s request and a soft cry rips from your throat as you finally burst. You come hard, thighs closing together and trapping your hand between them, jolts of pleasure running down your body like a thousand little shivers until you’re a shaking mess on the bed. Eyes screwed shut with the intensity of your orgasm, you miss Kafka’s parted lips and unyielding stare roaming over your arching form, her thumb applying mind-dizzying pressure on her leaking tip under her shorts to tease herself. You take a minute to calm yourself, she takes in the movement of your breasts rising and falling with your chest, imagining wetting them with her tongue so they glitter stunningly in the light when she pulls away. She strokes herself faster and the sound of her satisfied hum helps you realize what she’s doing.

“Hah… This is what you wanted, huh?” You bring your phone higher, circling your areola with two cum-coated fingertips and relishing in the way her eyelids droop. “Sending me that little video to tease me so I’d call and help you jerk off?” 

Kafka’s low chuckle turns into a pleased sigh at the end as she touches herself just right, smearing pre-cum all over her throbbing cock. 

“I wanna see.”

She picks up the camera and angles it so you have a view of her cock straining against her clothes. The silk of her glove is heaven along her skin, and with the microphone closer to her face you can hear the shallow breaths she releases on her journey to relief. No doubt the friction is dulling her mind, reducing her to her urgent need to come. Your tongue flicks over your upper lip and Kafka almost groans, still watching you intently like she’s making up scenarios of you on your knees with your head bobbing up and down her thick cock. The next time she takes you is already planned out in detail, you’ll be so utterly ruined that you won’t be able to beg her for more.

“I’d get you there quicker if you were here.”

“Mmh… Soon.”

You refrain from rolling her eyes at her obvious lie. Spoken words out of her lips mean nothing, especially with pleasure fogging her mind. Kafka’s following sharp gasp lets you know she’s close to falling apart; you lift your sticky fingers to your mouth, making a show of licking them clean how you would her shaft, and this time she doesn’t suppress the throaty, blissful noise that was sitting on her tongue. She sears your performance in the back of her eyelids and pumps her cock with purpose, orgasm imminent. Her hips jerk upward as her release crashes into her in toe-curling waves of pleasure, hand stuttering around her length and cum staining her underwear and glove. She moans unashamedly, knowing what it does to you, and her eyes flutter shut only for the instant it takes to compose herself afterwards. Her hand leaves her shorts, she brings her wet fingers to the light and smiles up at you. 

“Thanks.” Without any underlying cockiness, there’s nothing but appreciation when she addresses you. 

You don’t meet her gaze, averting your eyes while you sit up and smooth down your hair. Now that the tension in your muscles has dissipated, you’re reminded of why you were up this late in the first place and the work that still needs to be completed before work some hours later. You sigh tiredly, but your mind is clearer and you feel a spike of energy to finish your presentation, invigorated from your previous orgasm. Maybe you should be the one thanking her.

“What’s wrong?” 

You look back at Kafka. “I hate my job.”

“You should quit, then.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Isn’t it?”

“…And do what?” You ask flatly.

“Whatever you want.”

You stare at her momentarily, wondering what kind of reality she must live in where everything is available for the taking. Your studies were largely influenced by the constant pressure your parents put on you to get a sustainable income, and you were too preoccupied with your grades to ponder the what-ifs. They sacrificed quite a bit to have you enroll in one of the Intelligentsia Guild’s schools, your academic success was the least you could do to settle that debt somehow. You don’t care for mechanics but it was a relatively easy subject to study, so you picked it. You’re good at what you do, despite this job not being what you dreamed of doing for the rest of your life. Now, you’re not sure if you even have dreams. You have some skills, sure, but what do you want?

Kafka’s looking at you like she’s figuring you out. You don’t know what she aims to find but a childish part of you hope she likes it. You shake your head as if the thoughts would evaporate with the movement and stand from the bed.

“I should finish my work,” you say on the way to the bathroom, flicking the light open. 

“I need to go too.” Kafka pauses, seemingly considering something, then continues, “Do you have plans on Thursday?”

The question is unexpected, it takes you a few seconds to come up with an answer. “Apart from work, I don’t think so. Why?”

“You should stay home. Skip work.”

“Why would I do that…?”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” The reply leaves you before you can think about it, but it’s the truth. Kafka has never given you any reason to trust her up till now, you don’t even believe half of the things she says. Trusting her for anything would be incredibly foolish.

Her eyes narrow a bit, though that small smile stays on her lips. Your confusion must show on your face, and you have the impression that her demeanor has gotten more serious. 

“Trust me now. I have to leave, but I hope you take my advice. If not… Well, I’ll see you soon.”

“Wh—?”

The video call disconnects. Did she just hang up on you?!

After a quick shower and a change of sheets, you end up completing your assignment in around 40 minutes and getting a few hours of sleep before you have to leave for work. The day is long, and your anxiety intensifies with each passing hour but you present your project idea with little to no problem. The rest of the week passes quickly with no further messages from Kafka, but you stop expecting her to hit you up for anything other than sex so you get better at hiding your disappointment, enough that you’re able to focus on your job like the development of the past two weeks never happened. On Thursday, you wake up for work and sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone open on the private conversation between you and Kafka, debating with yourself whether you should ask her to clarify her last words to you. You try to recall her expression when she said them. Reading her is hard, her behavior is too well-rehearsed to be peeled to pieces by anybody— and you guess that is what you are; anybody. You feel like an idiot as you dial your office to call off work. 

With nowhere to go, you spend the day at home watching shitty TV until the sky begins its descent in the sky, catching up on shows you previously had no time for. You do go out for groceries in the afternoon to cook something nice for yourself once dinner comes around, but your day is mostly boring and uneventful. You’re lying on the couch, half-lidded eyes barely focusing on the bright TV screen as it plays the same sitcom you’ve been watching for almost two hours when your phone rings. The noise wakes you, you blink rapidly and reach for the device, accepting the call without looking at the contact ID. 

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Himeko’s musical voice sounds from the other line. 

“Hime?”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

You rub your eyes with a hand and sit up to pause your show. “No, not really. How’s trailblazing going?”

“It was kinda tough the last few weeks but nothing we couldn’t handle. What about you? Last time we talked you were pretty busy too.”

“I’m good, work has been a bit demanding lately because of this secret project thing I can’t really talk about, but nothing eventful has happened, except…” You cut yourself off. 

“What is it?”

“You won’t like it.”

“Oh? Now I definitely want to know. Let me guess… It’s that lady again.”

“Lady?” You repeat with a laugh, “There is nothing ladylike about the way she f—”

“Ew. I get it.” You hear shuffling on the other side, like Himeko is walking from one place to another. “You were complaining about her last time, what happened now?”

“More complaints.”

“I can’t understand why you won’t end things if all you’re going to do is get annoyed every time you see each other. Learn to walk away from unnecessary grievances, they only pollute your thoughts.”

You stand from the couch and walk towards the kitchen, opening the fridge to pull out the stuff you’ll need for dinner. “The sex is really good. Like, great. Like, mind-blowing. Toe-curling, even.” You can almost hear Himeko’s eye roll. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I don’t know why she has to be so infuriating. It’s obviously a case of big ego, but there’s something more in there. She just won’t let me see it.”

“You’re practically strangers. No wonder.”

“She’s been inside me. I wouldn’t call us strangers.”

“Do you know anything about her apart from her name?”

You pause with one hand around a carton of heavy cream. A door slides shut on the phone. You don’t have to think long to know the answer to that question, but you’re a little ashamed of it. Ashamed and disappointed, because it’s not by lack of trying; Kafka treats every attempt at getting to know her beyond the bounds of your relationship like a battlefield where she has to lie to survive. There’s a constant distance between you no matter how physically close she gets and it’s beginning to drive you mad. It was hot at first, the air of mystery around her is what drew you to her in that clothing store. Months later, it’s simply an obstacle you can’t jump over.

“Fine,” you reply with a sigh, closing the fridge and putting the carton on the counter, “you have a point. But it’s not like I haven’t tried, she just…”

“Doesn’t value you for anything other than sex?”

You don’t respond, mouth curving in a frown. That hurt your feelings, even though you know Himeko is only being honest because she hates this situation for you. She disapproved from the start, said you weren’t the type to have no strings attached, and she was right. You didn’t listen; Kafka is a splash of excitement in an otherwise pretty boring life, unraveling her takes skill and effort, and it is much more gratifying than a research well done. However… perhaps it’s time you do.

“Was that too far?” Himeko asks, voice soft. “I’m sorry. You deserve better than someone who brushes you off constantly unless they want something from you.”

“I know…” 

There’s a sudden knock at your door and you furrow your brows as you look at the time on your phone. You’re not expecting anyone and you’re not a fan of people showing up unannounced in general, still, you start making your way out of the kitchen to the front door. 

“We had an agreement, though,” you continue, “so it’s not like she owes me anything. I’m the one asking for too much.”

“You want to make connections with people and that is a beautiful thing. If she can’t see that, then she isn’t worth your time.”

You reach the front door, unlock it and turn the handle. “You’re probably r—”

The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue. In the hallway of your apartment building stands a panting Kafka, coat in one hand while the other is pressed hard against her bloodstained shoulder. Her white shirt is tainted with the seeping liquid which turns her glove a deep violet color, blood spatter over her torso and some spread onto her cheek as if she attempted to wipe it off. She’s hunched forward instead of her usual straight posture and the sunglasses over her tussled hair are cracked. You’re frozen where you are, a dozen thoughts buzz inside your head like restless bees and keep you from uttering a word; dread, worry, confusion, you can’t name them all. You have trouble computing what you’re looking at. Kafka looks up at you with the small smile she wears like armor. Even now, her nonchalance annoys you.

“Hey.”

The sound of Himeko calling your name over the phone and asking you if everything’s alright shakes you from your stupor. Your movements are slow, delayed, as you turn your head towards the device close to your ear and speak, “I’ll call you back.”

You hang up without hearing the response. 

[buckybabesonly]

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Summary: He promised you forever and a day.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Cold dinners, unanswered texts and overwhelming disappointment in your heart.

Just a standard Friday night, really.

You sat on the couch with your knees drawn to your chest, eyes fastened on the clock hanging opposite you. It was taunting you with each tick, tick, tick as you clenched your jaw and willed your phone to light up with a message from him.

You should be used to this by now. It happened so often that it would have surprised you more to actually see Bucky arrive home in time for dinner.

You knew it would be like this when you first got together. But after almost four years, it didn't make the disappointment sting any less. You knew he had bigger things to be doing - he was out saving lives and helping people. Yet a tiny, selfish voice in your mind wished that you could be placed as a priority for once. It felt like you spent half your time nowadays just waiting. Waiting for his call, waiting to spend time with him, waiting for something to give.

When the clock reached 11, you sighed and realized that it was going to be one of those nights where he'd stumble in at three in the morning, exhausted, or maybe not at all.

You packed the dinner you had made into a Tupperware box, pasted a sticky note on top with a message for your boyfriend when he returned. Reheat me for 3 mins! Love you ❤ 

It really was tough. It was one of those nights where you ended up staring at the ceiling of your bedroom in the dark, hot tears seeping silently onto the pillow beneath your head as those unhappy, insecure thoughts reared their head in the usual routine.

It was always this thick silence in the middle of the night that haunted you the most. It allowed you to be truly alone with your thoughts, and you had a lot of them.

You used to be so happy with him. And you still were, in a way. You felt so unbelievably lucky to have Bucky in your life, to be the one that he loved. And yet it was undeniably getting more and more difficult to ignore the problems that came with dating someone who did what he did.

The end to those upsetting thoughts came just as dawn cracked through the Manhattan horizon and you heard those tired, weary footsteps into the apartment, the sound of heavy combat boots being shucked off. Your eyes were closed, but you could visualize the way he silently crept into the room so as not to disturb you. You felt the tension leave your body when he slipped into the sheets beside you, and you instantly curled into his side like a cat.

"Did I wake you?" He asked quietly, his voice hoarse. He still smelt like blood and dirt, but you didn't mind.

"No," you whispered, your fingers grasping fistfuls of his shirt.

The relationship was unconventional and hard work, but you lived for the moments where Bucky came back home to you.

You stood on the snowy sidewalk, staring into the windows of the jewelry store wistfully. Diamond engagement rings stared back at you, glistening in the sunlight, dazzling you with their splendor.

More and more of your friends had been getting to that stage in their lives where they were becoming engaged, getting married, having kids (and some divorces, too). Every other day, it seemed like a new relationship milestone announcement was being made on your Instagram feed.

You were always being grilled by your friends about when Bucky was going to 'pop the question'. Your response was always a demure laugh and a joking retort of, You'll have to ask him!

But honestly, you weren't sure if that was where you were heading anymore.

Your relationship had never been conventional, and you knew what you were getting into when you and Bucky first started your relationship. Bucky didn't have a 9 to 5 job where he could come back home every night and help cook dinner with you and go to bed at the same time, make you breakfast in the morning and walk you to work.

It was never going to be like that.

So what did your future look like?

You trudged home in a slightly downcast mood, paper bags of groceries in your arms as you sighed.

You hadn't seen much of Bucky at all in the last few weeks. He had been out on a mission in Quebec, but he was going to be back tomorrow. A smile suddenly bloomed on your face - he was going to return just in time to celebrate your fourth year anniversary tomorrow.

I wouldn't miss it, my love, he had whispered on the phone to you two nights ago.

There was a new bounce to your step as you continued on to your apartment. You decided that you had to try and stop worrying so much about the future and just be grateful for each day - he was your Bucky, and that was enough.

Bucky was late.

He was supposed to arrive back at the apartment this morning, but he had sent you a couple of text messages at noon, your heart sinking.

Hey - have to stay in Quebec for a couple more hours. But will be heading back very soon.

Your reply was a hopeful, You promise?

Promise.

You remained hopeful even though there had been radio silence since. Bucky had never let you down on celebrating special occasions before - come rain or thunder, you knew he would make it back to you.

Or maybe that's what you used to believe.

You weren't sure what you believed now, as you sat inside the French restaurant opposite an empty chair, your nails tapping the tablecloth anxiously.

You clutched your phone in your hand like a lifeline.

I'm at the restaurant. Are you on your way? You texted him desperately, willing for him to suddenly appear in front of you with a bouquet in his hands and an apology on his lips.

Maybe you just loved torturing yourself. Living on whatever thin strand of hope was thrown your way, like a lifebuoy whilst you struggled to keep your head above the water.

Half an hour passed, the server with a sympathetic gaze coming over after 45 minutes and bringing you a starter and a glass of champagne on the house.

Your cheeks were burning, your chest tightening with such pain that you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Finally, you called it a night and got into a taxi to take you home. Your feet hurt in your stupid heels and your dress felt too tight and uncomfortable, your heart hurting so much that you thought it might burst.

Surprisingly, you managed to hold the tears in. You held them in all the way up until you reached your front door, stabbing your key four times into the lock before you managed to open it, your hands shaking.

You wanted to slam the door back into it's frame as soon as you were in the safety of your home, and gasped when a gloved hand appeared out of nowhere to block it. You stumbled back, almost falling when Bucky materialized in the doorway, his arms holding you to steady you instantly.

"I'm so sorry." They were the first words out of his mouth as he kicked the door shut behind him, holding you close against his body. "I am so, so sorry."

You were quiet, your head unable to process his being in front of you when you had such crushing disappointment inside you from being stood up on your anniversary. Tears were silently running down your face as Bucky's grip tightened around you, your eyes staring at nothing.

You weren't even listening even though he was speaking endless reasons and explanations for why he was so terribly late, why he had been unable to text you back to let you know he wouldn't be able to make it in time. He was out there as usual, saving other people, being there for other people.

Not you.

"Call me selfish," you began eventually, your voice cracking. You peeled yourself away from Bucky, staring up at him with eyes that made his breath hitch. He could see the pain in them, the utter exhaustion in your gaze. "But I just... I wish I had you all to myself."

Bucky's face fell. He knew how you felt, and it destroyed him to see the way you stared at him now. He could feel how limp you were to his touch, and it suddenly scared him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I know I let you down. There was nothing I could do. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You almost scoffed at that word. Promise.

"That's the thing, Buck," you said sadly, taking another step back. His arms fell down to his sides. "Your promises don't mean anything."

He looked crestfallen at your statement. His lips parted as if he wanted to argue back, but you continued forcefully.

"How many times have you promised me that we'd be able to go on that trip together? How many times have you promised me that we can do a proper date night? How many times have you promised me that you'd be home for dinner?"

Bucky's lips pressed together in a stiff line. You had been angry at him before, of course you had. But what he noticed right now, overwhelmingly so, was that you were tired.

"I'm so... I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"What do you mean?" Bucky spoke then, fear creeping into his voice at your words.

"Look at me, Bucky," you half-laughed, gesturing at yourself. Your mascara was running down your face, you had kicked your heels off on the floor, you felt so ridiculous in this stupid dress that you had meticulously picked out for your special night with him. "I'm so sick of always being let down. I - I don't know how we can have a future together. I don't want to spend four more years not knowing whether I can expect to see you come home."

"We have a future together," Bucky retorted, his eyebrows furrowing. "I can't see a future where you don't exist."

"Can't you?" You shot back, honestly bewildered. "Do you really imagine us having a normal life together? Can you imagine us being married, having kids, settled down in a home that you're not always running away from?"

"Do you think I enjoy doing what I do?" Bucky asked, a flash of anger entering his tone.

"Actually, yes, I do!" You exclaimed truthfully. "You're hard-wired to fight and protect, Bucky. You need to help people. It's what you do."

Bucky was immediately quiet. You had hit the nail on the head. Fight and protect.

"I've barely seen you this year, Bucky. You've spent so much time out there on missions and saving the world and - and that's great, Bucky. Really, I am so proud of you. But you have to understand that I have things that I want and I'm not sure you can give that to me."

You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. This was really how you truly felt. The dam had broken, and you had finally told him what you had been thinking.

You loved Bucky with all your heart. You loved him so much that the thought of losing him was excruciating.

But you couldn't run away from reality. You didn't think you could live the rest of your relationship like this.

"Do you think you could change?" You whispered, your eyes welling up again with tears. "Could you give up being a hero and stay by my side instead?"

Bucky's hands were clenched into fists by his sides as he stared at you. You couldn't decipher his expression, and you wished so much you could climb inside his mind and know what he was thinking.

"I love you," he said eventually. Your heart splintered with longing.

"That doesn't answer my question," you said sadly.

There was a long stretch of silence that filled the apartment. Eventually, he spoke.

"I don't know if I can change. I - this is what I do. I have to help people. There are people who need me."

What about me? You wanted to ask.

You nodded once.

"I love you," he repeated again, pleading.

"I love you too," you said, your lower lip trembling. "I love you so much."

Bucky had brought you so much joy. Every stolen second with him, every smile shared, every memory was a blessing. He was everything you had ever dreamed of and somehow even more.

But it wasn't enough.

"I know what I want, Bucky." Your voice was shaking. "Once upon a time, I really thought that we could have that. But the longer I spend in this relationship, the more I realize that those thoughts are futile. I'm chasing something that I will never have."

Bucky wanted to fall onto his knees and beg for you to stay. He really did - he wanted to hold your hands in his and beg you not to leave him. That he didn't know how he could live his days without you.

But he knew what you deserved. You deserved someone reliable, someone you wouldn't have to wait on. In front of his very eyes in this moment, he could see the product of his neglectfulness towards you. He could see the agony in your face, the weight of the disappointment he'd caused in every tear track on your skin. The epiphany hit him like a crushing weight to the chest.

If there was one thing Bucky always wanted to give you, it was happiness. He wanted to make you as happy as your existence in his life brought to him.

Maybe, in a twisted paradox, he would have to let go of his to be able to give you yours.

If Bucky could go back to the night you first met, he would have stared at you from afar, traced your profile with his eyes, admired the gentle curve of your nose and the color of your lips. He would have felt his heart still the moment you turned and met his stare with a shy smile.

But instead of approaching you and introducing himself, he would have forced himself to walk away if he had known the pain he would bring to you.

If you could go back to the night you first met, you wouldn't have believed the love that would grow in your heart for this man. The impossibly potent feeling that was larger than life itself.

You used to believe that your love for one another could overcome anything.

You realized that wasn't true on that very night, when Bucky left your home and you remained standing in the darkness, alone once more.

[ratcash-wasgud]

Tragicomedy II

hey gang, I finally finished this lol sorry it took so long, I just have some complications in my life rn

Anyways, NSFW so minors (and MEN) dni

After the day at the amusement park, Ellie walked home in a cartoonishly bummed way. Which, if you ask me, was pretty understandable. In her head, she had lost every chance in the world with the cutest girl ever, and the worst part was, that she has lost to Abby.

She didn't live in a dorm, the house she basically grew up in was just a couple blocks away from her college, and like 30 minutes away from the amusement park, so she had time to listen to music and stare at the sunset on her way. When she got home, she kicked open the door, and walked past a very concerned looking Joel, and slammed her room's door behind herself. She was acting like a child, she knew that, but she couldn't help it. If today would've went in the way she planned, you could be here too right now, listening to her playing the guitar, marveling at her comic collection, or even...I don't know, sit in her lap or something. But now, it's all ruined because of some straight jock who doesn't deserve you anyways.

Abby on the other hand, is not home yet. Instead of going back to her dorm, she got into her truck, and just went out to the edge of the city, to just...sit there. The last couple months were overwhelming, but today? Yeah, it's taking the crown. She had just started being ok with liking girls, then you came in the picture and suddenly Abby wishes she was still in denial. You saw her cry for fuck's sake. If she wanted to achieve anything, it was the cool and chill persona she had assumed girls like you were attracted to, but nah, she had to fuck it up and almost have a panic attack because of one homophobic comment that wasn't even directed at her. She's so terrified of being gay, of disappointing everyone. That's probably the reason why it was so easy for comphet to eat her alive for so many years.

But then, both women are dragged out of their gloomy moment by a notification lighting up their phone. A new groupchat was just made, by you, and the first text was sent.

"now we have a super cool groupchat, only for super cool people"

"(˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ )"

Ellie stares at the text. You made a groupchat instead of just texting Abby, which, to her was a success. Abby on the other hand, just didn't understand why did you still think she was cool.

"i wanted to text both of you, but i feel like it's easier this way."

"btw do you guys have plans on friday??"

Perfect. Another chance.

"nah im free." Ellie texts without hesitation, already smiling as she rolls over in bed, staring at her phone. She's already starting to come up with places she could go with you.

"i don't have any plans" Abby texts, her fingers shaking a little. She's happy that you don't hate her, of course, but she's nervous. She doesn"t want to fuck up anything again.

"⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡"

"my grandparents are out of the state for a couple days, and they told me i could hang in their pool!!"

And that is exactly how both Abby and Ellie ended up having a huge watergun fight in your grandparents' backyard. It was amusing, really. They both took it really seriously, like the waterguns you found while searching for a beach matress were completely real, and their life depended on shooting the fuck out of the other.

"Come out, Williams!" Abby yells as she walks up to the shed where she saw that pesky woman run to. "Just give up! Come out with your weapon in the air!"

But, Ellie wasn't in the shed at all, she was behind it. So when Abby tried to enter the shed, she jumped out from behind it, and blasted the bigger woman with cold water all while laughing wickedly. "I got youuuu, you died! I won!"

You just watched them, chuckling to yourself. You were happy. Having friends was cool. I mean, you were watching with a bunch of adoration in your eyes, and your heart was also fluttering, but that's a totally different topic.

"Okay, do you guys want to get in the pool already?" You ask as you start taking off your shirt just to reveal a light purple bikini top decorated with a pink bow.

Ellie swallowed hard. Suddenly her victory didn't even matter to her at all. The only thing that mattered was following you right into water. She peeled her own tanktop off, staying in her own pair of swimwear. This is the most skin she has ever seen you show, and it's already making her mouth dry. She stars sprinting towards the pool and with a huge splash, she lands in the water, drenching the frozen Abby standing next to the pool, who is in complete gay panic, and just stands there, stiffer than ever. She gasps when the cold water hits her skin, and shoots a glare to the auburn haired woman, who's just emerging from under the water. And as we know, revenge is both of their speciality, so Abby peels her own clothes off too and jumps into the water as fast as she can, and her aim is the smaller woman right in the middle of the pool. But as the waves from her jump arrive, they push you right into Ellie's arms.

Ellie, of course, sees the opportunity and takes it right away, wrapping her arms around you from behind. "I got you," She whispers into your ears, and you blush in response. You can't help yourself but lean into the touch, smiling softly. "Yeah...thanks."

Abby comes up from under the water, and sees the scheming that's happening behind her back. She can't let that happen, she can't be left out. She needs to keep up her game. She can't be a coward again. So, she moves towards both of you in the pool, where your feet can touch the tiles on the floor, and she corners both of you.

Abby needs to swallow her nerves. She has to be brave. "I pushed you on purpose." She murmurs, ignoring that you're in Ellie's arms, and puts her hands on your hips under the water. "I wanted to see you fall under the water...and get wet." She says, knowing exactly what she means.

Ellie, on the other hand pulls you closer. "She's already wet. We didn't need your help." She says, lifting her knee to rest between your legs. They didn't know is that you were indeed wet.

"I think she wants my help tho." Abby says, her heart pounding in her chest, but doing her best to not let it show. "Tell her sweetheart," Abby leans closer, her eyes intense. "Tell her you need my help."

You were stunned for a moment, glancing back at Ellie over your shoulder then back to Abby. "I...I need help. From, uhm...both of you." You croak out, her legs wrapping around Abby's waist under the water, while you lean back into Ellie. "Allow me to be selfish."

Both women stopped for a second, considering their options. In that moment, they both realized they didn't hate eachother as much as they thought. Over the time of then hanging out with you, and through that, eachother. Ellie learned that the meat head jock can cry, and isn't afraid of playing with toys or laughing in such a carefree way. Abby learned that the grumpy merd is fierce, and stands up for what she believes in, and that she puts up a fight in whatever she puts her mind to. They learned that they...wouldn't mind this whole thing.

Ellie was the one who moved first, giving Abby a nod, as she snaked her hand lower, along your stomach, right into your bottoms, grazing your lips. Abby shuddered when she saw that, and she just decided to go for it and plant her lips firmly against yours. You kissed her back withouth hesitation, wrapping your arms around her neck, and Abby felt like she was in heaven for a slight second. Ellie watches as her tongue moves with yours, kissing the side of your neck softly as she felt how wet you are down there. She slid a finger inside you, then after a couple thrusts, another. You moaned against Abby's mouth, and in response to that, the bigger girl started kneading your tits gently at first, but she lost self control pretty quickly.

The next thing you knew was that your second orgasm was already fading already, your juices gushing out of you as you're next to the pool on a convenient blanket, while Abby sits right on your face, her pretty pussy reacting to every single lick, while Ellie is between your legs, her cute little cunt against yours, rubbing and chasing her own orgasm, all while they make out, moaning your name into eachothers mouths.

In that moment, Ellie and Abby both decided to stop hating eachother for now.