#sell your old luxury watch

[confidential-couture]

Selling Luxury Timepiece: A Guide To Turning Preloved Cartier Watches Into Cash

The Cartier watch and its display are an unending luxury one will never forget. What of these exquisite timepieces appealed to you? Cartier is more than just a timepiece; it's a marvel of old world engineering, skillful craftsmanship, and design. A Cartier watch is a valuable possession you should treat as an investment. 

A sophisticated, opulent watch with exquisite design Whether you used to own a Cartier watch that you no longer wear, received it as an heirloom gift, or are simply trying to make a profit on your future investment, it can be a satisfying way to collect some cash for your old watch. However, a better strategy is required to obtain the most value for your money. This comprehensive guide will take you step-by-step through the entire process of selling your preloved Cartier watches.

Cartier rings and accessories

One of Cartier's most well-known designs, even after over a century, is the trinity ring among other accessories. This ring, which is essentially a cult classic, is made up of three bands made of grey, yellow, and pink gold that are inextricably linked in a sensual embrace. You can sell Cartier accessories if you have a better price value. 

Where to sell Cartier rings?

Do you own jewellery and rings from Cartier that you are unsure what to do with? Alright, you may sell Cartier accessories at its official store. The secret to confirming the value of Cartier jewellery is knowing how to assess it. Assessing it before selling it is crucial. The simplest and fastest method would be to use a reputable, knowledgeable jeweller, even though the majority of these might be independent services to assist one in the approach. To assist you in determining the true worth of your Cartier jewellery, they will evaluate each important element.

Cartier jewellery and watches are very pricey, and among others, some of the best places to sell Cartier love bracelets and rings are online authentic stores, auction houses, and pawn shops selling preloved Cartier watches. To get paid what they are worth, you should sell them to the right buyer. You can progress either from a known dealer or jewellery company or find private buyers—basically, you want a group that has satisfied customers. And it can also be quite useful to know the alternative buybacks for Cartier. Selling online isn't as hard as one might think! If done correctly, for a great business venture point of view, you can sell your luxury accessories at the right place.

1.Check out and research the market

Recognise the Market: Know what the market is currently doing, what brands and models are in demand, etc. Make sure the watch is genuine by having it authenticated. If you are unsure, have an expert validate your watch. Additionally, a comprehensive condition assessment must be performed to ensure that the watch is free from flaws. Finally, but just as importantly, compile the paperwork and save the original documents, invoices, certifications, and, if any, the box. Check out all the online marketplaces. 

Professional Appraisal: You might think about obtaining a professional appraisal from any reputable jewellery or watch vendor.

Consignment stores: Distribute via several stores that specialise in upscale timepieces.

High-end auction houses: These are the greatest places to get such exquisite and uncommon timepieces. Prestigious auction houses like Christie's and Sotheby's can serve as brand ambassadors for retention houses.

2.Direct Sales: Make direct sales through classified advertisements to watch dealers, pawn shops, or individuals.

High-Def Images: crisp images taken from various perspectives will attract the buyer.. Draw attention to everything, even faults and unique qualities.

Detailed description: This would include the device's make, model, serial number, state, past servicing, and all accompanying paperwork.

3.Advertising and Promotion

One can use social media and other platforms for promotion and ads. 

Watch Forums: Promote your listing in watch-related forums. Exercise caution when transacting.

Safe ways to pay: To prevent issues, consider using escrow services, bank transfers, or PayPal.

Shipping: Use track-and-confirm delivery and obtain insurance for the watch when shipping it with a reliable shipper.

4.Following-Sale Support

Follow-up: You want to address any concerns the customer may have and confirm that they are happy.

Returns & Compensation: Before you finalise the deal, you should be clear and explicit about your return and refund policy.

5.Be Truthful: Building confidence with customers is greatly aided by any openness regarding the state and historical history of the watch.

Remain Up to Date: To be competitive, you need to know about previous market-oriented pricing or activity.

Reputation at Risk: Essentially, it will be the favourable comments and evaluations that support you in achieving your goal of establishing a solid reputation as a reliable seller. A proper sense of the market and meticulous attention to detail are essential if you were to sell your luxury watch. Careful planning and a precise strategy are essential if you want to sell your old luxury watch for the best price.

Check the watch's general state of repair.

Before being allowed to sell pre-owned luxury watches, you must examine the outside of the case for dents, scratches, and other indications of wear. A flawless case can add a substantial amount to the watch's worth. Inspect the bracelet and clasp for signs of wear; authentic, unharmed components are in high demand. A thorough examination of the dial and hands is required. It must be spotless and devoid of any damage, oxidation, or discolouration.

Additionally, look for any chips, scratches, or even splits in the crystal. A spotless crystal significantly improves your watch's appearance. Ultimately, a professional watchmaker should be consulted to ensure optimal operation in the movement. Since accurate timekeeping is needed for a few days, accuracy testing should also be conducted. A very thorough service history, which explains how well-maintained the watch has been, will raise the cost. When you add in the original box and papers along with other accessories, the watch's overall value is significantly increased. Assemble a comprehensive bundle by combining the following items in one location: When original packaging is used, there's always something extra unique about the authenticity, charm, and monetary value.

When approached wisely to sell Cartier accessories can prove to be a worthwhile endeavour. The first step is careful planning and investigation. It is important to comprehend both the types of Cartier products that are in demand as well as the current industry trends. You may be certain of the worth and originality of your accessories by having them authenticated. The majority of Cartier accessories have hallmarks and serial numbers, which can be used to verify authenticity. Examine each item's condition because well-kept products with minimal wear and tear might command a higher asking price. Acquire all valid sales receipts, authenticity certifications, and other valuable documents to include in the sale, as doing so significantly raises their worth.

Determining the value of your Cartier accessories will be the next crucial step. To see what comparable products are now selling for, check out the website, Confidential Couture to obtain expert appraisal services if there is a large worth at stake. You can price your products fairly and competitively, attract serious customers, and make a profit on your investment if you have a thorough understanding of their value.

Any excellent listing is likely to draw in buyers. Take erect, crisp, high-quality pictures that highlight your best features and flaws from every angle. Add the item's measurements, materials used to make it, condition, and brand or model name. Include any documentation that the item might arrive with. This can help prospective purchasers recognise your item in a well-prepared listing and give them peace of mind. This will assist you in increasing the success of the deal. Make use of social media platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest to promote and market your listings to a wide audience that could be interested in buying what you have to offer. Post your listings in forums or communities for fans of luxury and fashion. This can assist you in becoming more visible and credible.

Ensure safe payment transactions

Whenever possible, choose secure payment options like bank transfers, PayPal, or escrow services. To ensure that nothing goes wrong during the shipment process, make sure the things are adequately insured and sent via reliable shipping companies that offer tracking and delivery confirmation. After a sale, always get in touch with the consumer to see how they are feeling and to ask if they have any questions. Before completing the transaction, specify the return and refund policies to avoid any misconceptions.

The entire process of finding out the accessories' history and condition demonstrates an effort to be very transparent with the purchasers while fostering confidence. Staying abreast of pricing trends in the market will help you remain competitive, and good feedback and reviews will help you establish your credibility as a trustworthy supplier. You may successfully sell your Cartier accessories or second hand luxury watch and achieve the best results by keeping track of these facts and organising the selling procedure.

Conclusion

If done correctly and with preparation, selling a second-hand Cartier watch may be a lucrative endeavour. If you assess your watch's condition, obtain paperwork for it, look out for its market value, select a good selling platform, and prepare your watch for sale, you can maximise your profit. To ensure a smooth and lucrative transaction, all that is required is realistic pricing, followed by skilful negotiating, and finally, safely concluding the deal. Whether you are a seasoned collector or a first-time vendor, following these steps will enable you to sell your luxury items quickly and profitably.

[buymydiamond]

Did you ever gaze at the costly watch in your storage and consider selling it for money? The reason behind this thought can be anything. Cyber Monday is an excellent chance to sell your watches for instant cash.

[artisanjeweworks]

Some Advice on How to Sell Your Watches for the Most Profit

In this blog, you'll find ten expert tips to help you sell your watches for the most profit. From conducting proper research to choosing the right selling platform, each tip is geared toward maximizing your earnings. Paying attention to details, such as cleaning your watch and writing a compelling description, can make all the difference. And remember, showing professionalism and responsiveness can lead to repeat business in the future.

[selldiamond]

Time for a Change: Steps to Successfully Sell Your Watch Online

Is it time to part ways with your beloved watch? Embrace the modern way of selling by navigating the digital realm to find the perfect buyer. Our guide, 'Time for a Change: Steps to Successfully Sell Your Watch Online,' unveils the secrets to a seamless and profitable online selling experience.

[webuydiamond]

Selling watches, especially luxury ones, can be a creative and rewarding way to generate funds for your upcoming travels. By parting with timepieces that hold sentimental value, you're not only financing your wanderlust but also passing on a piece of history to new owners.

[obsessiveloveistheonlylove]

Hey, I've read your last yandere Bruce, neglected fam reader and it gave me an idea. What if instead of the reader wasting all that money or luxury, she saved most of it in a closed account and when Bruce bought the apartment she made him sign it in her name as a plan to when the right time comes or if she needs to, she will sell the apartment and use all the money she saved to leave to start over in another country. Imagine Bruce finding out when she reaches the point where she put her apartment for sale, or better, actually selling it to a friend or someone they know and actually leaving.

Yan!batfam with neglected!sister reader leaving the state/country

Anon your mind is fucking golden! I also thought of the reader having the apartment signed in her name just because Bruce wanted her to feel comfortable but I love the layers this adds.

Hopefully these couple of hcs are good enough while I work on pt 2. Also if anyone else has any questions about any other scenarios or certain characters feel free to send them in I'll try to respond whenever I have time and I write for any gender reader.

Word count ; 1073

Unedited

___

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ bruce is not happy with this turn of events at all. He wasn't expecting nor did he sense that this was going to happen, you didn't post about it or even reference moving on any of your social media apps which he lovingly stalks watches over to make sure you are content with your life and also because he likes seeing you happy and enjoying all the things he got you. And it hurts him a little that you didn't even say something to him … he knows you don't owe him that, not when your relationship is still in a fragile state but he's trying.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he only figures out after someone in the fam(most likely dick) broke in dropped by your apartment and likely scared one of your friends shitless.. obviously both parties are shocked but your friend more so as they don't know who the hell just broke into their house, dick is shocked when this random person claims that he's trespassing in their home. After that awkward situation dick immediately reports back to Bruce about this over the comms and with some digging from Tim they're able to find out that you had sold the house and the exact date that you had, approximately a month ago. That sends off alarm bells for the entire batfam, where are you now?! It takes an hour or so of searching to find out exactly where you moved and when they do they can't decide what to do with the information.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Alfred is the voice of reason in this family, he discourages the batboys from immediately doing everything in their power to bring you home, he advocated for you to live wherever you choose and says that it's your life and that the family cannot choose for you. Alfred loves you dearly you are basically his child he views you the way he views Bruce. He may be a yandere but he's a selfless one he truly only has your best interest in mind. His words are like a slap of reality for some of the Batfam mainly Tim, Steph and Jason all three of then become a lot more hesitant to go through with their plans to bring you home on the other hand dick, bruce, and damian are adamant that you aren't safe unless they can be nearby.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Nobody can come to a decision the night they find out and so they decide to sleep on it until they can come to an agreement the manor will be tense for a week or two at most before they spring into action, they will all eventually cave to their selfish needs even if some feel guilty for doing it. Alfred will sigh disappointedly but ultimately allow them to go through with their plans he only hopes you can forgive him for not doing more

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you on the other hand will be left unaware to all that's going down you'd gotten a new phone and lived in a whole new state maybe even country! They couldn't bother you here. You were happier than you have been for a long time. Even if you missed your old friends you still tried to keep in touch over the phone.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ as for why you did this? It's likely the other batboys' faults, Bruce is annoying but he's not nearly as demanding of your time as the others, namely dick. Dick is insanely clingy once you're on his radar and he becomes aware of how much his neglect affected you mentally. The guilt for him was all consuming when he found out how much he hurt you and that he neglected you for quite literally no reason, you just didn't matter to him at the time. the thought now makes him sick, of course you matter, what the hell was his problem!! Dick would have constantly broke your boundaries by hugging and touching and cuddling you he feels like he needs to make it up to you by being a good big brother, even if that's not what you need anymore after all it's far too late you're already an adult but he refuses to see it that way you're still his baby sister. He inserts himself into your life constantly and even if he'll pay for things he'll only do so under the circumstances that the money be spent ‘together’ like sure he'll take you to that fancy restaurant but it's going to be made into a sister-brother bonding moment, like yeah he'll let you use his card to go shopping but only if he's going with you. Even if you don't use him for money he will still find ways to insert himself into your life. He's overwhelmingly intense and his behavior mixed with the other overbearing members in the batfam plus the added overwhelming feelings of having people who ignored you all your life suddenly want your time and attention is probably why you felt like you had to leave.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you won't be gone for more than a month or two before your dragged back to Gotham and back to your family, only this time you've got a metaphorical collar around your neck as now you're likely brought back to the manor always under surveillance and on the off chance you're still allowed to own your own apartment again just know it will be heavily bugged along with your phone courtesy of Tim even if he feels bad about invading your privacy he knows they need to see your texts to make sure you're not planning to leave Gotham again. Oh and now the bat members will each take turn patrolling your house and following you from the shadows to make sure you're safe.

___

All in all I'd say you'll have your fun for a little while but ultimately you'll just drive them deeper in their obsession and they will likely kidnap and bring you home.

[pimosworld]

Secret Springs Resort

Pairing-Joel Miller x f!plus size reader

CW-18+, MDNI, Angst,hurt/comfort, mentions of body insecurity, mentions of food insecurity, mentions of smut, Joel being so supportive, reader hiding her feelings at first but we always end with fluffiness. Dream vacation Joel vibes.

WC-1.2k

A/N- I decided to go with a different direction for this weeks theme at the Resort for the Secret springs challenge by our mayor @secretelephanttattoo. I love this idea, it was so fun to write despite the angst, it’s just in my nature to make you feel a little.

[Series Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Indulgence

If you thought he didn’t notice the first night then you had seriously underestimated the man that was Joel Miller. 

  The man that had turned your world upside down the moment he stepped foot into your kitchen that he would soon remodel. The kitchen that you got to enjoy for just shy of a year after it was completed before selling your home and moving in with him. The newly remodeled kitchen being the major selling point. The smug look on his face when you got well over the asking price. The look that you so often indulged in wiping off his face when you had him writhing beneath you. This burly, breadth of a man that made you believe in love again. 

  He most certainly noticed on the first night of your vacation. The one you had both worked so hard for. 

  Secret Springs Resort

  An all inclusive beach resort vacation that he had meticulously planned down to the minute. Even the daily naps were planned because he knew how you could get bratty when you were tired. 

  It pained him the way you picked at your food and shuffled it around the plate as if he wouldn’t notice. 

  The way you squint your eyes in fake pleasure to signal that you enjoyed the bite. 

  The look he so often noticed at home during a meal or out to dinner but he so foolishly thought you would be care free while in this oceanic oasis.  

  The second night. 

  When you blamed the sun burn and your headache as to why you couldn’t eat much more than a few bites. The way your eyes watered when he moaned eating his steak and you stared longingly at the buttery garlic noodles that you wanted to dive headfirst into.  

  You said you were too full for dessert and yet Joel knew you better than that. A small sliver of hope when he let you feed him some ice cream, but his hopes quickly squashed when you had one bite and pushed it away. 

  The third day was your day to relax. No excursions planned and the weather far too hot to lay on the beach. Joel opted to lay among the sheets with you for most of the morning. His head resting between your plush thighs as you played with his thick curls. 

  The way it always started out so innocent and yet he could have you falling apart beneath him in minutes. 

  It’s the most relaxed he’s seen you this entire trip, and even if he dies for lack of oxygen he’ll never come up for air if it means seeing you like this. 

  It’s why he opts to spend the entire day taking full advantage of the luxury suite. Finding different ways to bend you over every surface of this room…the balcony, the couch, the bathroom sink. The shower steams until the mirror fogs over. Fucking and laughing until he thinks he may have pulled a muscle. The way you call him an old man in jest because he knows he could outlast you any day. 

  It’s why as he watches you sleep, your soft curves peeking out beneath the rumpled covers as the sun sets over the water he decides you’ll just complete the day inside. A quick call to room service and the woman on the other line doesn’t balk when he nearly orders everything on the menu. All your favorites so there’s no room for argument. In the safety of your private room, away from prying eyes so he can finally put a stop to whatever is holding you back. 

  It’s the smell that first wakes you first. In the quiet comfort of the sheets you get the hint of the savory aroma of fresh baked pizza and garlic bread. Your stomach growling and heart warming at the familiar smells that fill the air. You blink sleepily as your gaze falls on Joel, shirtless with his jeans hung low on his hips as he bustles around the room. Plates and silverware clinking as he sets up a small table on the balcony. 

  He turns with a gentle smile as he hears you rustling in the sheets. “Hey there, sleepyhead. I hope you’re hungry.”  

  Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the spread. A large pizza with all your favorite toppings. One half with pineapple because Joel thought it was blasphemy. A steaming bowl of pasta with Parmesan cheese and marinara sauce. Golden slices of garlic bread arranged neatly on the side. 

  Your throat constricts with the unexpected sensation of gratitude and anxiety. 

  “You…you didn’t have to do all this.” You murmur, feeling a rush of vulnerability. 

  Joel strides over to you on the bed, draping the silky resort robe around your shoulders. “I know.” He says softly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “But I wanted to darlin’. Ya deserve to enjoy all your favorites without feeling self conscious.” 

  Tears well up in your eyes as you look up at him. Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, at the way he surprised you everyday. “Thank you.” You whisper, with a slight tremble. “It means a lot to me.” 

  He didn’t expect you to bend so easily, yet he’s relieved all the same. A sense of pride blooming in his chest as you sit together on the balcony sharing bites of pizza and stories about your past. Things you want for your future, some things he’s heard and some things he’ll pocket for later. 

  He can tell as the meal goes on and you relax that you want to say it. To tell him why you’re this way, but he already knows it’s him. The reason he had to break down so many walls. The man whose name is rarely mentioned in your home because anytime it is Joel wants to find a way to make him a missing person. 

  When he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars as he twirls the pasta on the plate and holds it out for you, like an olive branch to open up. 

  You start tentatively to explain your past insecurities. How your ex made you feel ashamed for enjoying food. How he always made sure you knew to eat less than him. 

  “I always felt like I had to justify why I ate.” You say quietly as you sip your water. “But you…you make me feel comfortable just being myself.” 

  Joel reached across the table to take your hand, placing a kiss to your palm. “You don’t ever have to justify anything with me baby.” He says earnestly. “I want you to be happy and feel good about yourself. You should cuz you’re fuckin perfect.” 

  You smiled gratefully as he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. You knew with Joel beside you, you could let go of old hurts and embrace moments like this. Where kindness, understanding and a simple meal could say so much more than words could express. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[seat-safety-switch]

How did you spend your Tuesday evening? For me it was the usual same ol' routine. Getting fucked up on 3D-printed recreational elephant tranquilizer, and watching the out-of-work circus acrobats at the flea market kick the shit out of each other behind the dumpster with Devil Sticks.

I love the flea market, and not just for the freak battle. It's got a great cross-section of humanity, all coming there to argue that a $25 wood plane should be a $20 wood plane. In recent years, though, this proletarian appeal has started to wane. A lot of the booths have been replaced with expensive handmade art, and the food court now has received – and passed! – a health inspection. All this means that there's less opportunity for deals on cool old junk, which is my entire reason for existence.

In the time we have left before the flea market is completely converted to luxury condominiums sitting atop a "farmer's market" selling $35 jars of honey, I must be sure to make the most out of its unique social appeal. Hence the circus acrobats, which to their credit are not out of work because they were fired.

Timmy and Tommy were in fact abandoned by the circus, because their ringmaster is notoriously conflict-averse and simply did not want to tell them that they were flagged as "unwanted" by the carnival investment group. This does not lessen their aggression towards one another in any way. It does, however, make them about as unemployable as yours truly, which means we can be great friends. They're there all day, and sometimes they give me a call when Old Man Johanssen puts out a fresh batch of slightly dented hubcaps at his table. For this vigilance, their only price is the occasional food-court churro, which is now guaranteed by the municipal government to contain less e.coli than you would expect.

What will happen to them when the flea market fades? I asked them this last Tuesday, and through the haze of pachyderm pacification prescriptions, they told me that by then they plan to have started their own circus. Get revenge on those who ditched them, and all that. If the plan doesn't work out, though, they can always go back to their first love: investment banking.

[confidential-couture]

Turn Your Luxury Closet into Cash with Confidential Couture | Start Selling Today  Turn your luxury closet into cash with Confidential Couture! 🌟 Whether it's that designer handbag you've outgrown or those luxury shoes you rarely wear, it's time to give them a new home. Confidential Couture is your trusted platform for selling preloved luxury items, offering a seamless, secure, and rewarding experience. Why choose us? Trusted Platform: Over a decade of expertise in luxury resale.Authenticity Guaranteed: Every item is meticulously authenticated. Seamless Selling: Easy listing process, secure transactions, and fast payouts. Start selling today and let your preloved luxury items make someone else’s day! Visit www.confidentialcouture.com to list your items now. 💎 #LuxuryResale #PrelovedLuxury #ConfidentialCouture #SellLuxury

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Salvatore | 2.8k

ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: DI!Leon Kennedy x younger f! reader ✦ Summary: Leon's on a working trip and it has been taking much longer than it should. As he doesn't like to spend much time away from you, he texts you daily, and since you miss him so deeply, you decide to videocall him. ✦ TW: NSFW, !MINORS DNI!, smut, porn with bit of context, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, masturbation, fingering, age gap mentions, daddy ass Leon

A/N: I have nothing to say in my defense, but that this might have two parts. Cause Leon's flying back home and dunno, you're still horny af, plus I wasn't sure of how to correctly incorporate the song to the post buttt I think Salvatore is my top 1 Leon song. So!

A disgrace of a man he had become ever since he met you, fell under your spell. Leon wasn’t used to staying away from you for this long — the trip was taking longer than expected. A week ago he had flown to Washington for the meeting of annual reports on DSO’s damage control. This type of trip did not usually take more than one or two days, and he had assured you that he would be back by the weekend. He had promised, you made plans and he usually did not breach the promises he made to you; he didn't like to fluster you. You were too good to him, he’d always tell you that. Too good, so good. You wouldn’t complain about his absence, you knew he was a busy man, a well-trained and well-requested agent — your much older boyfriend.

Every time that word danced on your red beautiful lips, he swore to feel a punch in the lower portion of his belly. Was he not too old to be dating in the most vivid sense of the word? To have a girl as young, beautiful, lively as you call someone like him a boyfriend? You liked to say, to recite; it made you delighted to watch the reactions, no: the age difference was never a problem for you.

It was a problem to him in the beginning. Leon resisted; he tried to resist you for longer than he could remember. Weeks maybe. He felt defeated, weak for giving up, but how could he not? When your eyes would met his with that devilish expression, all his control fell to the ground — he was yours.

The room door opened, and he made his way in. It was a spacious room, at least; a quality hotel. You would love that place, he thought. The luxurious furniture, the soft linen and the numerous pillows – the privileged view of the White House. He opened a corner smile as he thought of your reaction if you were there. You were one expensive little thing; before anything else, he took his phone out of his pocket and took a picture out of the window. He sent to your contact, affectionately saved by yourself as bae. 

Your status immediately changed to “online” when your phone rang and you noticed it was his text you were receiving. On the other side of the country, you opened up a foolish little smile lying on your bed. “Like it, doll?” his text said, and your smile grew wide.

You rolled down lying on your belly, and typed your answer.

“Don’t do that to me... I’d sell a kidney to be there with you right now.” you typed, and opened a smile knowing that you had ripped out a sincere laugh from him with your little hyperbole.

Leon laughed briefly. Your mood was indeed extremely funny to him, jokes that sometimes you would have to explain after doing, since the difference between generations was a barrier to the two of you at least in that matter. 

The agent left his already half tired body fall on the armchair that lay in front of the bed, large enough for at least three of him. The blue blazer that decorated his body was quickly thrown aside and he dropped down a few buttons of the white social shirt that came down below, the first portions of his now visible defined chest decorated by the blonde hair that grew around there. As he stretched out to the stand table — a small bar with a few varieties of whisky — and started pouring himself a good cup of Bourbon, his phone rang again. 

After the first drop came down burning through his throat, he opened the latest message you had sent. “Can I call you?”, it was asking.

He licked his lips tasting the taste of alcohol in his mouth, and pressed the FaceTime video call button. It took no more than three seconds for you to respond. 

His eyes were fixed on the screen of his phone. God in fucking heaven, it was a torture to see you like that, he thought. A torture. You were lying on your bed, overlooked; your hair was slightly messy, your pyjamas fell perfectly on your curves, the delicate silk fabric outlined your body like a sculpture drawn particularly to fuck his mind. He opened a smile when he saw the view of you, the lower of his belly kicking in just again. Seeing you like that, laying ever so beautiful, your body so exposed, in a situation like the one he was in right now: unable of touching, unable of even seeing you straight. That was somewhat torture.

“How are you, babe? You look tired.” You asked, resting your face on your hand, a small smile decorating your lips. Leon drank another long sip of his whisky. 

“It’s nothing, doll. This hell of a meeting, is all...” he murmured, crossing his legs and mindfully staring at you behind the screen. “I’m sorry, I won’t make it to the weekend.”

“Oh no...” You shuddered back, your look becoming frustrated in a matter of seconds. “Why are they holding you, did something happen?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows; it was your habit to ask, even if you knew he’d never give an answer.

“You know I can’t talk to you about that, darling...” He murmured, with a slightly defeated smile on his face, and continued, “I’ll be there Sunday night. I promised.” 

You sigh,frustrated and defeated sigh, but agreed. As always, how good you were to him. The silence only lasted for a few seconds before he spoke again in a calm and quiet tone.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I can’t be mad at you. It’s not even your fault...” You argued, shrugging your shoulders quickly, and your eyes focused for a few seconds on the open part of his shirt – a silent invitation. 

“You’re so good to me. I’ll compensate you, I promise.” he said in that soft spoken, deep voice.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew exactly what he did to you, how he would put you in your place, how it would make you squirm in want and lust and call for him in your dreams whenever he was that far from you. 

There, dropped in that chair, Leon held the cell phone at the height of his knee, his eyes looking down to where his eyes found him behind the screen; he rested one hand on his face, in the encounter of his jaw with his neck. 

You could follow the well-defined drawings of his chest through the little exposed skin by the already undone buttons, his biceps that seeming to ask to explode out through all that fabric. Your eyes went down through his chest to the path of heaven that made the encounter between his belly and his crotch. You bite your own tongue. If you closed your eyes now, you could perfectly imagine how you would make him twist in your mouth. What a mess.

“You can compensate me now.” you said, after licking your lips. How could you taste the alcohol of his mouth on yours, if the two of you were more than kilometers away? How could he fuck up your head to make himself printed on you like that? 

“How would I do that, babe? Can’t eat you out through the phone.” he smirked, a little smile spreading across his lips noticing your eagerness for him. You were such a fucking fool - couldn’t hide a single feeling, damn.

You slowly flashed, and then got up a little bit by placing your phone in front of your pillow so that you could film yourself without using your hands. Leon raised his eyebrows in surprise when you slowly took your hand through the soft skin of your belly now exposed through the tiny shirt you wore, and began to raise it, gently, almost so slowly that you could now feel his excitement emanating from his look; his eyes burning, his stomach twirling inside in desire. It didn’t take you much to get him on the edge as you so knew from the plenty of times he couldn’t wait for the two of you to get home before fucking the brains out of you against the first car, table or wall he’d see.

“Can’t you? You seem like you are right now.” You smirked, and your hand went further up, beneath the thin fabric of your shirt. You palmed your breast and he could see the shape of your flesh changing as you tightened, more, stronger. Leon stretched his fists, almost able to feel the warm skin of your breasts against him; he could almost feel himself tracing kisses through your neck, bites, leaving marks that you would spend makeup trying to erase. Cupping your breast with his perfect-sized hand, suckling, making you squirm under him.

“Doll,” he said in a slightly alarmed tone. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t torture me like this.” He whispered, his blue eyes like the sea attached to the screen, to you. 

To your body, that he knew: belonged to him. You made that clearer when you started to climb the shirt even further, until you finally crossed it through your neck and threw it to the side. He couldn’t see your face anymore, only your body – you soft breasts, the inviting skin of your belly, the curves that formed your waist, those delicious hips, devilish thighs. You started becoming more and more drenched the more you showed more of yourself to him.

“Please... I need you so fucking much.” you pleaded, your voice muffled by the sounds of your panting.

You liked the obscene look he played at you when he saw you that way. One of your hands continued to massage one of your breasts, your nipples began to express the intensity of your own desire as punctual as they could be; you felt shrinking whole when your free hand began to descend through the lines that surrounded your uterus to the lower belly, inside the tiny, thin short you dared to call a pyjama. 

“You’ll kill me.” He replied licking his lips, his hand reached the remaining buttons of his shirt and he opened it completely. You could see by the emerging volume in his pants that you were not the only one burning in desire right now. Leon grabbed the volume of the bulge in his pants with one hand, in a frustrated attempt to ease the tension; the movement caused his breath to shrink for a moment and he released a low, needy moan. 

“Spread them for me, babe let me see you.” he told you, and you took it in.

You slowly sat on the bed, spreading up your legs as he had asked you, supporting your feet by the bed on the sides of the phone, completely exposed; the fabric of your shorts, alone, was not able to prevent Leon from seeing the perfect curves of your folds, the small well that formed in the fabric in your cunt. He opened up an almost demonic smile. You were not wearing panties.

“Oh, fuck, babe...” He moaned, his hands beginning to shake off the belt of his social pants. “Move it aside for me...” he asked, almost in a flustered sigh, as he let the belt fall freely on the sides of his body and unbuttoned the zipper of his pants with some hurry. At the moment he finally relaxed and released a desperate breath, you could see the perfect format of his cock ever so big, stretching the fabric of his white boxers. You felt your mouth salivate instinctively, and held back a moan of excitement. With one of your arms, you supported your elbow behind you, bending your body back and with your free hand, you pulled aside the central part of your shorts, exposing to him your needy, wet pussy. Your fingers traced a way through your folds to the core of your pleasure - your throbbing and twitching clit. 

Your face flushed in redness as you let your head fall back, but quickly bringing it back to staring at your phone where you could already see Leon’s hard cock twitching through the camera; in addition to your excruciating and burning desire, you could see the entire length, could picture yourself swallowing every inch of his right now. 

“See how you get me? You little evil thing… Play yourself to me, come on, do your

show…” He growled in a hoarse voice, slowly spitting at the glistening tip of his member, reddened by the need and the blood pulsating, his skin burning. “I’d go to that airport and advance my flight just to fuck you, god…” he continued, while his hand rushed from the tip to the base of his cock, spreading his spit through the length and starting to pump in slow alluring movements.

You couldn’t hold yourself from moaning near that man, you could barely hold your breath - your movements became instinctive when you were with him. Whenever he’d be behind you in the kitchen, mornings after a good night out - he’d call himself an oldie and complain about being tired, and the second next proceed to pin you against the counter and eat you up from behind. Just the thought of his tongue against you made you squirm on your own hand, circling movements starting by your index and middle fingers against your sensible clit. 

The muffled moans of his, your panting voice, the little sound he’d make each time his hand ran through his cock - the two of you got lost in the act, you could almost forget there was an entire country between you and him. The way you’d lose it when he started praising you-

“Good… So good to me, come to me, c’mon”, ah. There it was.

Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and you instinctively drawn your hand further lower towards your drenched entrance, stretching yourself, feeling the warmth of your walls that so needily called for him. You couldn’t possibly elaborate a single sentence right now, as your head was up in the sky; Leon had taught you to torture yourself. To hold back till you could no more, to try to postpone your orgasm till you felt your own body breaking down, losing conscience. 

He felt himself getting a raw, wild need once he noticed you were in that state he liked to put you in anytime he’d have time to fuck you straight, without a hurry, without the need of being a quickie. Squirming, panting, your body begging you to give in - god. 

His movements started to rush up watching the way your folds glistened through the low lightning of your room, your juices rushing down your thighs, the way you couldn’t watch him without your cheeks looking like burning fire on want and desire. 

His throat closed and he let his head fall back, for a moment, he got uncontrolled and erratic, his movements so strong you could hear a slight hint of pain in his voice, his stomach started flexing and he grabbed on tight to the chair’s arm, your name came out as a growl as he held to the base of his cock, letting out all of his milky seed spread against his chest, that moved constantly and erratically to his heavy breathing. 

Watching him get to his climax was too much for yourself and your personal tactic of torture. As you felt the ravenous feeling of your orgasm start to spread through your thighs, up your belly and down your pussy to the core of your pleasure, you let out, above all things, a soft moan - his name. Your voracious breath got in tune with his, as you bite your lip, your eyes ever so alluring boring into his through the screen, your obscene expression and smile as you pulled your fingers into your mouth and sucked onto them, tasting your own juices, feeling the living proof of your own pleasure.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He muttered, staring into you like a predator while you closed your legs and let out a little content laugh.

-

Leon picked up your call while dragging his baggage through the airport ways to the boarding line. A smile formed across his lips. 

“Little darling, I can’t really talk right now… I’m getting to the boarding line, my flight’s in about thirty minutes.” he argued, to which you just smiled.

“I just called to wish you a good flight, bae, that’s all.” You responded. “I’m waiting for you.”

“No no, don’t do that. Don’t stay awake waiting for me, yeah? I’ll be there soon enough, I promise.” 

“You know that no matter what you say, I’m going to do the exact opposite. Right? Right, Agent?”, you let out a soft laugh.

He sighed, closing his eyes.

“I know.”

[buymydiamond]

Whether you just want to sell the luxury watch to get money to buy another or want to clear out your collection, understanding the process is the key to making it pay off. With these few key steps, you will get the best outcome in Sell Luxury Watches. The value of a luxury watch is determined by the brand, model, condition, age, and demand.

[delirious-donna]

Who? [Kiba Inuzuka]

an: this is a repost of an old story I wrote for @tired-biscuit who we all know is the biggest kiba girlie on the planet. I've reworked it and added an extra 2k (sorry not sorry). Hopefully, it gets a few reads.

pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x female reader

warnings: NSFW, modern AU, friends to lovers trope, characters in late 20s, angst, toxic males (sorry Asuma, Obito, Itachi and Hidan simps!), pussy eating, blowjob after sex, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, biting and marking.

Masterlist

He eyed you with the utmost disdain.

Glowing amber eyes raked from the toes of your scuffed Converse to the brim of the baseball hat that peeked from under your hoodie. A sleek dark eyebrow rose, stern in admonishment of your haggard appearance and you could scream at him for it.

You knew you looked god awful—felt it too—but did he need to sneer quite so fucking openly? Even from the door of the coffee shop, you knew he was going to give you absolute hell, motherfucker couldn't help himself at the best of times. Some best friend he was.

Kiba Inuzuka appeared his usual well-put-together self, the epitome of the aloof bad boy that most girls had that annoying phase of wanting more than reason should allow. Sickening really, but you loved him regardless. Platonically, of course… of course.

He sat with arms crossed at your favoured table in the back corner, his arms tightly crossed over his wide chest and forcing the cotton of the black tee he wore to work to its limit to contain the muscles beneath. You spied his foot stretched out as he practically manspread in his chair, and the ominous tap of his heavy biker boot sounded like the tolls of a church bell as you walked toward him and your doom.

The strands of his chestnut brown hair were tousled in a sexy 'I just got fucked' style that was meant to look like he had rolled right out of whatever bed he had spent the previous night in. However, you knew the truth of it. That particular look took him a straight forty-five minutes to perfect each morning, and you were tempted to ruffle your hand through it just to piss him off more but you didn’t have a death wish–not today.

You always gave him shit for how long it took him to get ready in the mornings, many a time in your college years you had screeched about him being worse than the girls, and you were not wrong. If any of his floozies were to find out about his skincare regime their little airhead brains would likely implode from shock. Perhaps you should never have taught him that he needed to use more than bar soap on his face each morning, for the man owned more luxury beauty products than you did now.

"You look like shit," he offered with a shit-eating grin on his annoyingly handsome and punchable face.

The onset of summer highlighted the fresh dusting of freckles on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and his usual sun-kissed skin darkened further from the abundance of scorching sunlight. Kiba was a true summer child, not something you shared with him as you opted to hide from the dangerous rays of the sun until the weather cooled into a more agreeable autumn temperature.

"Well, fuck you too, dickhead!"

You threw yourself haphazardly into the opposite chair, face screwed up from the squeal of metal on the polished floor and pouted.

"Could've at least bought me a drink. Not like you don't know what I like," you moaned sullenly.

Glancing over your shoulder you could see the line was almost at the door, and the thought of standing in it to get your much-needed fix of caffeine sounded like hell on earth. With your best puppy dog eyes, you rounded back to Kiba who was watching you fixedly, jaw set in a firm line.

"Oh no. I already stood in that queue, had to almost sell my soul to Satan himself to get the last apple danish. It's not my fault that you're so hungover that you can't face standing up for longer than a minute," he all but yelled at you.

Kiba was more pissed than you had expected, you must have really caused a scene for him to be this level of mad at you. Caffeine was your biggest weakness, and he knew it. Groaning loudly as you rubbed at your aching temples, you tried to replay the snippets of what you remembered from the previous night.

Anger snapped at your fingers. The burn of absolute fury had you rubbing at your chest in discomfort, and you well remembered the slap you had landed with the stinging pain that still lingered on your palm. A face you would much rather forget loomed into your mind's eye, tall and dark-haired. A cocky lopsided smile on his face as he tried to wave away your well-founded accusations.

Goddamn Obito Uchiha, he was the devil incarnate. Nothing but a cheating scumbag that had promised you the world but in the end gave you only hell and one heck of a headache.

You could recall the heated whispers of your girlfriends, the words that had curdled your stomach and caused your pulse to pound in your ears. Your boyfriend had been seen by multiple reliable sources engaged in acts that should solely be reserved for you. He had fallen back into the arms of his ex, and he didn't even have the decency to end things before he went and stuck his dick in her.

Sure, you could have handled things better, you knew that, but he had it coming to him.

"Kiba," you whined, "I know that I probably didn't do myself any favours last night, but you can't tell me that he wasn't asking for it? The bastard cheated on me! A slap to the face was hardly the end of the world..."

You fell silent whilst his stare iced over instantly.

The warmth of his amber-flecked eyes was gone in a heartbeat, cold fury descended over his face as he leant forward with his arms braced on the table. You couldn't help but admire the black ink that ran from his left elbow and slipped beneath the sleeve of his fitted t-shirt. His bicep flexed as he pointed a thick finger in your face.

"Are you serious? You think I'm pissed at you for throwing a piss poor slap at that self-centred prick?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Be quiet," he added as your mouth popped open to shoot back your reply.

"Course he deserved it, and the rest of what he got..."

You frowned at the ominous statement in confusion, suddenly eyeing his hands intently, and as you had suspected, the knuckles were raw and split open in places. That only ever happened when… Icy dread whispered down your spine at the unwelcome thought.

"What I am downright furious about is the scene you made after that slap. Don't you remember shouting your damn head off, screeching like a fucking banshee for 'that bitch' as you called her? Must have slipped your mind that you stormed right across the bar, literally pushing over your friends that just wanted to help and then threw up all over the pinball machine, yeah?"

You blanched, literally feeling the colour drain from your face as you did indeed recall flashes of what he spat at you so venomously. All you wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, instead, you raised your hands to cover your face, or at least, you tried.

A rough hand wrapped around your wrist and forcefully removed it from your mortified face.

"Uh-uh, I got more to say and you are gonna listen, so perk those little ears up mama. I could forgive you yelling like a lunatic and spewing your load, god knows I'm more than aware you're such a damn lightweight. What I cannot forgive is you running out the door and going fuck knows where!"

He was getting louder and you cringed.

It felt like a thousand eyes were on the pair of you, and it made the introvert in you crumble like a sandcastle being overwhelmed by the ocean. You had wondered why you'd awoken in your childhood bedroom, why the window was wide open and your dad was holding a baseball bat over his head as you emerged from the cocoon of bedsheets. Old habits die hard and sneaking in and out of your bedroom window proved to be one of them even though you had long moved out of your parents’ home.

Your mouth was drier than a desert, tongue heavy in your mouth as Kiba finished his tirade. He huffed through his nose like an angry bull, and with only the jut of his jaw, he silently demanded a response. The problem was, you didn't know what to say, surely you were out of excuses for the poor choices you had made. It seemed like this was a cycle you were meant to repeat from now until the end of time.

Step One – find a new boyfriend who would quickly become your obsession.

Step Two – Kiba would either know them already or meet them only to immediately disapprove and ask you to end things. Ask was putting it mildly too.

Step Three – you and he would argue like squabbling schoolchildren until one of you stormed out, resulting in a period of silence.

Step Four – said boyfriend would reveal his true colours in the most atrocious of ways and annoyingly prove Kiba right time and again.

Step Five – Kiba picked up the broken pieces of your heart and soul, glueing them back together with an ever-patient hand. Although he never failed to tell you, ‘I told you so.’

Repeat.

Shame burned in your chest, the feeling filled you from head to toe and it was enough to intensify the headache that crested through your brain like waves on a turbulent sea. All this and you had no damn coffee to at least take the very edge off your misery.

What could you say?

You had acted like a selfish brat with those actions, your friend had every right to be angry at you and it was only then you noticed the dark shadows that lingered beneath Kiba's eyes. You grabbed his hand and held it tightly in your own when he tried to withdraw, pulling it toward you.

"Please don't tell me you've been up all night cause of me?"

He shrugged and again tried to pull his hand free, but he didn't truly fight you. It was evident to both of you that if he wanted to retrieve his hand, he would be able to do so with ease. He grunted in reply and looked pointedly over your shoulder.

Fuck!

"I'm sorry," you whispered with a slight hiccup, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to spill upon the bougie-looking rustic tabletop. A fingertip traced a gnarled knot, it grounded you and kept you from completely losing it.

"Kiba, please. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. I know I've said that before but I mean it, I do, I promise. No more idiots and no more making an absolute fool of myself."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

His tone had returned to a more amicable level, with a smirk unfolding on his lips and you knew that the worst of the storm was over.

Worry had been at the core of his fury, not knowing where you were until you had texted him upon waking at your parent’s house. Frantic fingers flew across the keys whilst listening to your dad's yells of indignation about how you should have used the damn front door instead of climbing in through your old bedroom window.

This really was the straw to break the camel's back.

It was exhausting, the emotional toll enough to have you curled into a tight ball on most nights. True that the highs were intoxicatingly good, but the lows were soul-suckingly abysmal. It was time that you stopped endlessly chasing around after men who were never worth your time and effort. Maybe if you stopped searching, the right man would find you instead.

"I'm done, I promise," you reiterated with a steely determination in your eye.

Kiba tipped back in his chair, assessing your words and finding them to be genuine. His normal goofy smile manifested and it was like the first ray of sunshine you had seen in weeks. He truly was the best friend you could ever ask for, and when he stood with a sigh, you realised you couldn't love him anymore.

"Caramel macchiato?"

Or could you?

–

Kiba had known it wouldn't last, it never did, so why would this time be any different?

The trouble was that he adored you from the tip of your sharp tongue right down to your uncoordinated feet that stumbled and fumbled no matter how hard you tried to keep your balance. The pair of you had been friends since your schooldays and you were both prominent figures within your wider social group. What he didn't like about you, and was not quiet about, was your god-awful taste in men.

You couldn't help it, you were downright adorable so of course, men were always gonna be drawn to you, but did you have to pick the worst scumbags imaginable? He had never believed that one person could get it wrong over and over without at least learning some kind of lesson. It must be some kind of imbalance in your brain and it was astonishing, to say the least.

Over the years you had gone through phases, such as the bad boy stage where you swore blind that you could reform idiotic womanizing players like Asuma Sarutobi. Everyone and their grandmother knew that Asuma could not keep his eyes, and hands, off the ladies. It was never going to matter how many times in a day you fucked him, he was destined to stray and stray he did.

Kiba was there to pick up the pieces, to reassure you that it was most definitely his loss, and no, he didn't think you needed to lose any fucking weight! Why would you even think that? He didn’t always understand women and the fascination with weight was his biggest bugbear. 

Then there was the sophiscated phase which he referred to as the smugly quiet phase. Itachi Uchiha was only a few years older than you but damn did he act like he was a motherfucking elder. The condescending smiles, the little tuts and eye rolls at what he deemed to be childish acts and that low almost monotonous tone that spoke volumes about his feelings, or lack thereof.

Again, Kiba had warned you off but you chose to ignore him as usual.

Instead, he waited until Itachi sat you down and told you abruptly that you were too immature for him, effectively breaking your heart in all the time it took him to blink those feminine-looking long dark eyelashes of his. Kiba was there for you to cry upon his shoulder, to wipe your snotty nose and assure you that you were not immature, that dude was just an old ass fuddy-duddy.

Obito had simply been the latest in a long line of utter morons, and part of him had desperately hoped you would keep your word this time. The one thing he was glad about was that you had never dated within your friendship circle, though it hadn't stopped some of the guys from trying.

You would never know about the times he had forcibly taken aside the likes of Naruto and Shikamaru, the muttered threats of mortal wounds and outright death if they so much as dared to touch you. Kiba was always met with nervous chuckles, reassuring pats on the shoulder and hastily sworn oaths that they would keep their distance. Shikamaru had even looked downright pleased with himself, as if he knew something that Kiba didn’t and that encounter had lingered with him for a long while.

It had been a good month since you swore 'til you were blue in the face that you were done chasing men, a record for you but it had all come tumbling down when Hidan entered the fray.

Hidan–a dude who swore he had no last name. Seriously, who did he think he was, the goddamn pope? Perhaps he should have taken that final step much like Prince had done and changed his name into a symbol, it certainly wouldn't have made him any more pretentious.

The man clearly thought he was the next messiah and Kiba had taken an instant dislike to him. This time it was different and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. Worry gnawed at him, the sense that his guy was more than capable of drawing you into things that could endanger you. The saying goes that you should listen to your gut and Kiba took that very literally. His every instinct screamed of danger and put him on high alert for trouble.

Weeks had passed since you two first started dating and although he desperately wanted to teach you a lesson by giving you the usual silent treatment until you snapped, he refrained. Something stopped him, a niggling doubt that poked him at the most random of times. He wasn’t about to let something befall you on his watch, he’d never forgive himself if it did.

Instead, he watched much like a predator would, assessed this cocky-ass male and learned his weaknesses. Kiba knew Hidan hated to be called out on things, his word was law in his mind and that just grated on the Inuzuka to the worst possible level.

He remembered well the night that Hidan had cornered him as he left the bar restroom, his fist thundering into the wall next to his head in an attempt to intimidate him. It didn't take much for Kiba to snap, yet he managed to hold on to his composure this time. Fought to retain his sanity tooth and nail because he would not play into Hidan's hands, for this was a game to him.

"You wanna fuck her, dontcha?"

"Killing you to know that it's my dick that she sits on each and every chance she gets, huh? Cock hungry little slut that she is."

The inflammatory words had been like grenades exploding behind his eyes, what an utter cunt he was for speaking about you in such a derogatory manner. Kiba had stuffed his white-knuckled fists deep into his pockets, biting his tongue and pushing away from the sneering male without further incident.

In hindsight he was shocked that he had managed to keep it together and not outright punched the fucker–he wanted to–but then again so had Hidan. It was a part of his plan to isolate you, to keep you from your friends and family so that he could steal all your time and attention. He was the definition of a toxic male.

Manipulative fucker!

The Inuzuka drained his beer and let his head fall back against the couch cushions. He was at his wit's end, there was no plan to swirl inside his rampant brain that seemed likely to work.

How long had he ignored his feelings for you?

Too long was the answer. He doubted you were ever going fall into his arms as he wished, but he satisfied himself with being your ever-constant rock. If he could not have you, he would make damn sure that whoever was lucky enough to steal your heart treated you like a princess.

It hurt his heart, but it was better than the emptiness that came with the alternative.

Tired eyes looked towards his phone that was buzzing incessantly on the couch beside him, he palmed the device and looked at the screen to find your name illuminated like a beacon in the darkness of his lounge. He schooled his features although he knew you could not see him and answered the call.

"What's up?"

–

You were a dumbass.

There was no other way to describe how dense you were when it came to your love life. You had to wonder if you had a sign above your head that attracted the absolute worst of mankind to swarm you like insects. Was there something wrong with you? Were you actually a bad person who didn't deserve to be loved?

You made your way to the apartment you knew as intimately as your own.

Feet carrying you ever forward, speeding you towards comfort in the arms of Kiba. He would make it all better, wouldn't he?

For once, you didn't know if he could. There were only so many times you could be knocked down before you could no longer get back up and it was getting harder and harder to find your feet.

Tears threatened to fall but you refused. Curling your hands into tight fists until your nails sank into the flesh, close to puncturing the skin but not quite. It grounded you and kept the tears at bay. How long it would last, you weren't sure.

The ache in your chest eased as Kiba answered the door with worry prominent on his features. Pinched brow and pristine white teeth gnawing his lower lip in earnest. Even before you could step inside, he was reaching for you, dragging you into his strong embrace and wrapping you in his essence.

You sank into him willingly, inhaling his musky spice-infused scent until you were filled with it. It felt like stepping into a perfectly hot bath after a long exhausting day, the tension from your muscles draining away whilst you sagged against the chest that rose and fell in harmony with your own. Kiba wrapped one arm wrapped around your lower back, a thumb rubbing against you in soothing motions whilst the other cradled your head and let you settle into his broad shoulder.

Why couldn't all the men in your life be like this?

Kiba accepted you for who you were and had no interest in changing you into something that would better suit him. His soul was filled with warm light, you saw it through the amber flecks in his eyes, the adorable dimple appearing on his right cheek when he smiled broadly and through his caring actions.

"Tell me everything babe," he cooed softly into your mussed hair, ruffling the strands with his breath.

Where to begin?!

You spent the next hour filling in your longtime friend with every dreaded detail from this afternoon, sipping cautiously on a beer that he offered you once seated on his squishy leather couch. The last thing you wanted to do was succumb to alcohol, but one would settle your nerves you reasoned.

"I knew that guy was a motherfucker," Kiba hollered from the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes at the sheer joy that laced his gravelly tone, you turned to find him bent over searching the fridge aimlessly. His tight butt swayed in the hold of his black jeans, it was such a nice backside and if you were in a better mood you might have tiptoed closer to give it a good hard smack. He’d deserve it.

"Mr Kiba 'I knew he was a motherfucker' Inuzuka. Can't you ever give me a break?"

It hadn't bothered you this much when he first said it, but the more you repeated the words, the more fury infused your veins. It hit you like a tidal wave, turning you from weepy sadness to burning anger in less than a minute.

You popped to your feet, pacing back and forth whilst your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. Wary amber eyes followed your movements, closing the fridge door with a hard thud that made the magnets rattle. Magnets you had gifted that asshole. The grim set of his jaw was back, irritation so quick to line his features until you were both scowling at one another.

"The fuck? Why have you always got to be so fucking high and mighty? You ain't perfect either, you know!" You were yelling now, raw emotion burning your throat and turning your body into a literal inferno.

"High and mighty? You gotta be joking me. Watch your damn mouth, my patience will only remain for so long. I suggest you calm the fuck down and sit down as well!"

He was making it worse, where was his usual compassion when you stormed like this?

"Or what Kiba? You gonna chuck me out?" You snorted through your nose and missed the flash of pure rage that flitted through his blown-wide pupils.

All six foot two of him towered above you, so close you could feel the heat roiling off his body and licking at your flesh. The back of your legs caught the edge of the glass coffee table and he was grabbing at your upper arms in an instant.

You gasped when his fingers dug into the meat of your arms until you almost yelped out for him to stop. Head tipped back and heart thundering from an evil cocktail of anger and bitterness, you straight up growled at him like a dog ready to lunge and attack.

"When are you going to open your fucking eyes?" he whispered, low and so very dangerous that the hairs on the nape of your neck prickled to attention.

Too wrapped in your own negative emotions, you failed to comprehend his words fully. Oblivious to the storm of desire that was rapidly rising to the surface in the male fixing you in place. You ignored his words and spat more venom at him in an attempt to get him to release you.

"When was the last time you even got laid Kiba? Haven't seen any of your airheads flouncing about in forever. They made me sick to my stomach with their simpering eyes out on stalks, drooling over you like you were some kind of fucking god."

He let go in a moment of startled surprise as your words found their mark, and you stormed towards the door only to have your wrist captured in a rough hand. Kiba pulled you back to him, the tug was so forceful that your chest bumped into his and your free hand flew to the wall of steel that was his chest in an attempt to balance yourself.

"Jealous?" he seethed, lowering his face until you were practically nose to nose

Had you been in your right mind, you might have taken a moment to process that incredibly loaded question and see it for what it actually was. Instead, your primal instincts found themselves firmly in the driving seat as a war cry pounded in your ears and a tightness grew heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You snatched your hand back and grabbed two fistfuls of his stupid tousled chestnut hair, pressing yourself onto your tiptoes to reach his wickedly curled lips.

This was no soft kiss, it was cruel and punishing.

Lips met, teeth gnashed and snarls sounded from both of your throats as Kiba reacted in kind. His hands were not gentle as he cupped your face, one hand stealing into your hair and wrapping it around his fist. He pulled, forcing your throat to strain taut and ripping your mouth away from his with a hiss.

White-hot fury veiled your vision in red. His sharp almost fang-like incisors sank into your vulnerable neck, harsh and selfish as he marked you for his own. Greedy lips followed the exquisite sting of pain, sucking at the skin indented by his teeth until the entire area would be bruised and tender to the touch when your sanity returned.

You didn't know what made you say it, the words were out of your mouth before you took note of them.

"Seems like you've been the jealous one.” Kiba froze against your frantic pulse point.

His eyes were positively feral, the pupils almost entirely swallowing his normally warm amber irises. Cheeks dabbled in rough whiskers from the late hour and the tendon from neck to collarbone straining from exertion. Kiba levelled you with a dangerous stare and you couldn't help but look away to admire his forearms instead of succumbing to his piercing gaze. The sleeves of his open shirt rolled to the elbows–a look that had you weak at the knees at the best of times–and the strength in those corded muscles was obvious to your appreciative eye.

"That’s right, m’gonna make you forget about those stupid assholes that didn't know what a treasure they had. Their loss is my gain. If you want this," he pointed to himself to emphasise the point, "if you want me, then come get it."

Without a backwards glance, he stormed to the island in his kitchen and left you there… alone and bereft of his overwhelming heat. Kiba stood with his lower back resting against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded as he watched you. His muscled chest heaved with every laboured breath, cheeks ruddy from the kiss you’d shared and there was a more than subtle bulge on the front of his jeans.

Did you want him, your best friend Kiba?

Hell yeah, you did!

Annoyed by your own oblivious stupidity, the puzzle pieces clicked together in your head. Kiba was downright sexy, his physique godly and a face that was both rugged and angelic depending on his mood. He was funny, a total goofball who made it his mission to keep you laughing until you were clutching your stomach and begging for mercy. A social butterfly who ensured he gave his friends equal attention, he knew every birthday and often was the ringleader of group outings and meetups.

He was your Kiba.

The person you relied upon most in the world, your constant and when you tried to imagine a world without him, it stole your breath until you were crippled by the agony. Had you been jealous of his idiotic little girlfriends? Yes, you always wanted to be the centre of his universe and they distracted from that. You had tried to mask it as a dislike for his taste in women but most of his exes had been perfectly nice if you had given them the time of day to get to know.

It was clear, that you wanted him.

You ran.

Four long strides and you threw yourself into his quickly outstretched arms. He caught you –of course, he did –bearing your weight with practised ease as you wrapped around him like climbing ivy. Hands fisting into the t-shirt that lay beneath his shirt as you found his mouth once more, sought to reclaim it and make your intentions crystal fucking clear.

This time the kiss was more tender, yet the passion was still as ardent and heady. His wide hands roamed your hips until he was kneading the meat of your ass through your pants and making your lower half grind against him in sinful bliss. The zipper of his jeans pressed against your centre through the layers of clothes and you moaned openly into his mouth.

Kiba was famished, he swallowed your lewd noises and was quick to incite more as he turned to perch you atop the counter. His hips rolled into you, languid but forceful whilst he explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue rolled over his in an erotic dance that had no end in sight. If not for your necessity to breathe, there would be no parting you and only the shared oxygen in the space created by two friends that finally breached a line that had been long held and now threatened to either tie them together or pull them apart.

You tugged expectantly at his clothes, desperate to strip him to your gaze and finally, he relented. Kiba pulled back long enough to tug off his shirt and tee, discarding them haphazardly. His warm breath fanned your cheek, stuttering when your cool fingers stroked and detailed the definition of his torso.

"Eager little thing," he growled. The smile he sported only served to highlight the ego that was often to focus of your teasing. Yet, this time no humourous jabs came to mind. For once you were glad of his self-confidence and eagerness to move things along.

He divested you of your oversized hoodie, thankful you had taken the time to put on a nice bra beneath it despite the mess you had been in earlier. His groan was heaven to your ears and when he dove to kiss you through the sheer material of your bralette you thought you had died right there and then.

Saliva dampened the already thin fabric, those dangerous wolfish teeth nipping at your pebbled buds. With your head tossed back, he used that wicked mouth of his on your breasts and you were unprepared for the piercing rip that flooded the hushed space. Kiba had torn clean through the garment, the halves falling down your arms to lay destroyed on the floor.

"Kiba!" you half yelled, half squeaked as he took that exact moment to suckle your nipple between his plush lips. Your belly quivered, the pulling sensation more intoxicating than the most potent alcohol and the feeling echoed far more intensely between your trembling thighs. Your fingers carded through his lush hair, nails scraping against his scalp and smiling indulgently at the rumble deep in his throat.

"I'll buy you more, promise baby. Lay back, need to get you naked," he said sounding entirely as drunk as you felt.

For once you were eager to follow his instruction, a novelty for Kiba who merely watched with a knowing look that promised he would deliver of your wildest fantasies if you’d just fucking listen to him, at long last. His eager fingers hooked into the waistband of your leggings and were quickly dragged down your supple legs. Slowly, he eased his calloused fingers back up your bare legs, stopping to toy with the back of your knees and listen to the subtle gasp caught tight in your throat.

Funny how you had thought he would be rough and impatient, the deed almost over with and the finish line hurtled towards at inhumane speed when here he was taking his sweet time. It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to feel the searing heat that was radiating from between your thighs, to dip his fingertips against your panties and know how drenched they already were from the mere prospect of being with him.

As if sensing your thought process, Kiba finally parted thighs whilst you rested backwards on your elbows. A low appreciative hum caught your ear and you shifted your focus to the tight grip he had on his bottom lip, teeth sinking deep and the wide flare of his nostrils like he was scenting you as an animal would do. He planted your feet and pushed your knees to the sides until you were splayed out like a cat in heat. It was vulnerable and so exhilarating you couldn't help but wriggle.

His eyes were glazed over when he, at last, moved to touch your panties, zeroing in on the obvious damp patch and letting his head roll along his neck for a second as a visible shiver passed up the length of his spine. You’d swear he appeared like those cartoon characters that have zapped with electricity, near every hair on his body rippling from the sensation.

"Have to taste you, sweetheart. My pretty fuckin’ girl."

A chaste kiss fell to your lips before he began a slow tortured path down your body, stopping here and there as he learned the spots that made you tremble and shake, noting carefully when you would whine and try to cling to him. Smug smiles and smears of his saliva were painted upon your heated skin, and he let loose a triumphant bark of laughter when you whimpered your impatience.

"Please," you mewled, a hand pressing atop his head to hurry his descent. Forward was not something you were familiar with, shyness always overtaking your urge to express your wants, but with Kiba, you knew there was no need for any such concerns.

"Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll deliver."

You could cry at the bubble of pressure that was desperate for release, sitting just below the surface, if he would just touch you.

"Wan’ you to fuck me with your mouth, need it so bad Kiba! Please–"

The last syllable had barely left your mouth before he was diving for your centre, underwear pressed aside as he nudged your clit with his nose and inhaled deeply. One roughened pad explored your slick folds, collecting the nectar and pressing it into his mouth.

His sigh was purely reverential and he settled down to devour you like a starving man sat before his first meal in weeks. It was all too much, the immediate stimulation intense enough to have your toes curling where they now rested down his broad back.

Kiba laid languid swipes of his molten tongue along your slit, alternating between flickering motions against your engorged pearl and slow circular patterns around your sopping hole. The walls of your cunt fluttered, desperate to be filled and clench around something–anything–and when his finger slipped easily inside you bucked wildly.

“Shh, keep still. Lemme hear your pretty voice but gotta hold still, yeah?” He encouraged, mouth only moving far enough way for you to hear his heated request.

It took mere minutes for you to come apart on his mouth, his digit sucked deep as he stroked your slick, spongy walls and suckled at your clit to almost pain. Your legs were limp from the unrelenting waves of euphoria that raced throughout your body and if not for the grounding palm caressing your thigh then you might have passed out there and then when white sparks shot straight through your vision.

Kiba didn’t spill a single drop of your nectar, the wet insistent muscle rolling into your cunt over and over to simply dig more of the delicious juices from your quivering body before he stood with the lower half of his face glistening in your essence. It felt… empowering. The intense lust that blazed in his eyes, a lust that was for you and no one else. Fuck. You loved him. Had for a long time. Why had you taken so long to see it for what it really was?

It wasn’t the time to get stuck in your head like this, there would be moments for these thoughts and what lay beyond but right now, you weren’t entirely satisfied and you wouldn’t be until you had milked the man looming over you for every drop he could deliver.

With renewed vigour and determination, you propped yourself on your elbows and then lunged forward towards the buckle of his belt. You’d never worked so deftly as you worked to unbuckle him, moaning at the loud metal clattering loose. Buttons worked free and zipper pulled down, the waistband of his underwear came into sight and your fingers curled around that final barrier and released with him an audible gasp mingled with his sigh of relief.

You had known he was going to be well endowed, could feel it from the press of his body only earlier, but it was still a shock to see him in all his glory, and what a glory it was. His length was impressive, but it was his girth that was the true beauty–if you could even call such a monster a beauty. Kiba's cock could barely support its own weight, the angry length tipped to a deep purple with precum leaking from the slit under your scrutiny.

It looked enormous in your petite hand, managing to encircle the shaft but only just did your fingertips meet. You stroked his velvety soft skin, paying attention to the stark veins that stood to attention and how Kiba reacted when you traced over the most prominent with a salacious smile. You scooted towards the edge of the counter, eyes locked with him with every deliberate move you made.

The head kissed against your glistening folds and you teased both of you by running the blunt tip along your slit until it bumped against your clitoral hood. His fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so tightly you feared he would crumble the marble under his strong hands if he wasn't careful. You notched him at your slowly pulsing entrance, and on a breathy keening noise, you pleaded. 

"Fuck me Kiba."

You knew that he had snapped when an animalistic noise roared from his throat and the death grip moved from the counter to your hips as he pushed into your cunt. Kiba eagerly watched your walls suck him in, utterly drunk on the silken feel of you in much the same way that you were drunk on him. Every drag of his shaft rubbed delicious friction into your most intimate areas with a precision he shouldn’t yet possess. He was made for you and you were made to take him.

There would be a time for slower moments and tender loving making, for you were sure that Kiba was not going to escape from you, not now. He was yours, and you his. This alone had you urging him on, driving that feral side of him to act and do it hard and fast with nips at his lips and nails clawing down his back. 

His hips pistoned like a well-oiled machine, and sweat clung to his forehead as he set a pace that saw him pounding into your pussy. A relentless rhythm that matched the pound of your heart, clammy skin on skin and kisses that acted better than any drugs ever could.

"This what you wan’? Hungry for my cock, huh?"

His words were staccato with every thrust that he delivered, your body jerking with the wild and powerful movements. Your head fell back against the counter as moan after decadent moan left your throat. Kiba's tight grip moved to your waist and he began to pull you onto his length, your back sliding against the marble top making your tits bounce and your ass slap against his pelvis. Every drag of his shaft against your walls made you keen for him, full to capacity but craving more nevertheless. He was using you like his own personal fucktoy and you were creaming around him at that knowledge, the lewd squelches of your bodies joined in this way growing louder and louder.

"Tell me. Need to hear you say it, kitten."

"Oh… fu-fuck! Need your dick, feel so good–ah!" You screamed when Kiba leaned over you and altered the angle of how he was driving into you. His mouth sucked possessive marks onto the sides of your breasts as you used the last of your hastily retreating sanity to again fist his hair and force him even closer to you.

"Tell me I'm better than those other motherfuckers. No one can fuck you like this, nobody else is worthy of this beautiful pussy," he growled, breaking from your hold to allow him to press his thumb against your clit and making you jerk at the sudden unsuspecting touch.

"Kiba–best. Gonna, oh god–m’so close. No one but you."

Your brain was a puddle, the ecstasy too much for full coherent thoughts as you felt the gush hit against his groin. You soaked him in your juices, the wet noises crescendoing whilst stars winked into your vision.

"Such a good fuckin’ girl, oh shit. What a beautiful mess you've made on me," he cooed in praise, slowing his pace but never stopping. He had to be close; your walls desperately trying to milk him, to force his release in kind.

Slowly, you returned to the earth, oversensitive from each measured stroke that he delivered until he pulled from you and wiped the sweat from his brow. He fisted his shaft as you watched, tears springing to your eyes at being denied his release.

"Wanna come down your throat, think you can manage?" he asked, his eyes burning into yours as he pumped himself.

Your thighs were shaky, the skin slick with the spill of your arousal but you managed not to fall to the floor. Kiba steadied you with his free hand, groaning in his throat as you knelt before him. His head fell back when you parted your lips and accepted him into your wet mouth.

The taste of his essence mingled with your own, sweet and bitter but definitely not unpleasant. You had never done this before and it felt so wicked as you watched Kiba come apart above you. He could barely maintain his eye contact with you, heat surging to his cheeks and his hands cradling your head in gentle reverence.

His hips jerked, your fingers sinking into his ass that flexed beneath your touch as he kissed against your throat. The muscles constricted and he faltered. "Oh fuck, so close sweetheart."

Your teeth unsheathed carefully, tongue running the length of the litany of veins that ran his shaft and teeth grazing his sensitive flesh until his fingers seized and you felt the hot spurts of his release. It poured down your throat until you pulled back, the rest pooling on your pink tongue.

Kiba panted and whined, losing himself in the moment and the feel of your scorching mouth, chest heaving with each laboured inhale. You showed him the milky seed that coated your tongue, watching his eyes roll to the back of his skull the second after you swallowed audibly and opened up to show your now empty mouth.

The seconds ticked by and neither of you moved as your breathing slowly returned to normal. How gorgeous he looked to you, spent and blushing. The massive frame of his body–Kiba’s body–completely undone by your actions and your body.

"That's one way to get over Hidan," he groused, trying to turn from you.

You were not going to allow him to step away from this, two hearts were on the line and you refused to see him in pain. You stood abruptly, possibly a mistake given how your thighs quaked but not giving a shit at the moment. You pulled him back to you, arms resting over his wide shoulders and placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. Pouring every bit of love and desire into your expression, you fixed him with a sincere smile and watched his eyes widen and soften, the creases smoothing out to reveal his true self, the one you were intimately familiar with.

"Who?"

[megumimania]

4:44 — patrick zweig

synopsis: after publicly embarrassing you and your marriage being at deaths door, patrick shows up offering much more than you bargained for.

warnings: angst, smut (17+), patrick is messy as fuck (figuratively and literally) ,cheating, brief mentions of art and tashi.

a/n: finally wrote something for patrick and of course it got a bit nasty and angsty lmao.

he never meant for you to find out like this.

finding out along with the rest of the world that he was cheating on you was something you didn’t expect to wake up to.

patrick knew of the humiliation and embarrassment that you were going to be subjected to as a result of the leaked paparazzi pics that showed him getting hot and heavy with tashi duncan, an old flame that never really died down. even though he reassured you otherwise.

the media never really left you alone at that point. your simple wish of privacy being disrespected at every turn you take. running simple errands were a thing of a past as you couldn’t escape the barrage of questions being asked as you put your shopping cart away.

‘mrs zweig, is it true that you’re divorcing your husband?’

“mrs zweig, how do you feel about the cheating allegations? do you forgive your husband?”

“mrs zweig, reports say that you engaged in a months long affair with art donaldson, is that true?”

the questions were obviously asked to get a rise out of you and despised it. using your marital issues to sell a quick buck was so low blow. a part of you wished they would fuck off somewhere else,hoping that there would be some new drama that they would fixate on and leave you alone.

thankfully they did, a random celebrity’s pregnancy announcement being enough to distract the public from the turmoil that was your life. you were so relived, finally being able to fade back into obscurity. however, whilst everyone managed to move on like the internet does, patrick was terribly relentless.

patrick kept trying to make up for it, buying you luxury bags and designer goods at your request as if that would heal the heartbreak and embarrassment that you were experiencing. it was a pathetic display of forgiveness and it hurt how litle effort he put in trying to salvage this marriage.

couples therapy was a miss, the both of you being ego driven and stubborn meant that it was like pulling teeth to get any of you to try and take some accountability for the roles each of you played in this marriage.

you weren't delusional, you knew that you weren't perfect and that your marriage with patrick shared the same fate. however in comparison to his infidelity, your supposed issues with control and jealousy seemed minor in the grand scheme of things.

with all avenues exhausted, you decided to push for a divorce much to patrick's dismay. his refusal to sign the papers pissed you off.

why did he have to make everything so difficult?

you thought that some distance would do the trick. so for the past month you've been staying at a fancy hotel in the midst of packing up your whole life to move back to the west coast where your life has always been.

as you were preparing to wind down for the evening, you heard a knock on the door. you quickly shrugged on your robe and your slippers and opened the door to find him of all people standing there.

his eyes looking somewhat ashamed and embarrassed and for the first time the mighty indomitable patrick zweig, looks as small as ever.

“why are you here?” you ask him the million dollar question, the one he cannot answer.

you dont even know why you step aside to let him in. maybe it's the newfound loneliness that makes it harder to maintain that degree of impassiveness towards him. with patrick standing before you in your hotel room you're forced to acknowledge his presence.

he hands you a bottle of wine with an intention to share it between you both and you oblige. he pulls out two glasses for you both as he pours the wine into your glass first and then into his. you watch how his freckled hand smoothly pours the wine into the glass without any spillage.

you dont even know why you listen to him talk, as if you'd get something reasonable from him but you know he's full of bullshit. when you ask why? with a lump forming in your throat. he stands there aimless, the words falling dry on his tongue. looking at you as if the answers written on your forehead.

yet it isn't enough to fully squash your want for him. so when he does lean in to kiss you, you let him. the kiss is short but weighted, his apology being interwoven into every kiss. the several glasses of wine in your systems has you both feeling some type of way.

“should we even be doing this?” his voice seems worlds away when it’s buried in the crook of your neck. his hands roam around your waist in a tentative manner, unsure whether he's doing the right thing but when you place his hands firmly on your waist, he feels his heart race.

“i won’t say anything if you don’t.” the go ahead you’ve given him turns him into a madman, with clothes being haphazardly strewn across the hotel room. he can't get enough of you. his hands wanting to leave a mark on every single part of your body making you groan in pleasure.

patrick fucks like a man starved.

your legs rest on his shoulders as he buries his face into your wet cunt, lapping up the juices with his tongue. the lewd slurping and sucking sounds as well as the way his nose bumps against your clit has you grinding into his face. god he missed this, missed you.

“patrick im so close…” you mewl as you grip onto his messy curls. he ignores your warning continuing to devour your pussy without a care in the world. your vision swims and your toes curl as you’re on the brink of coming undone. patrick knows this and like the asshole he is he will not stop until you're a whining mess.

he lets out a low groan becoming drunk on your pussy, his eyes half lidded and filled with lust. “missed your pretty pussy, fake ones didn’t hit the same.” he murmured. eating you out was his favourite past time if he could say so himself. patrick ignores your pleas, making direct eye contact with you as he spits onto your cunt smearing it all across your puffy folds.

“fuck... patrick!” you cry out as your vision goes white and your body goes limp. he comes up a few seconds later, his lips coated in your slick as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss where you can faintly taste yourself on his tongue. his teeth lightly grazing your lower lip makes you pause for a second when you realise the bastard was fucking smiling.

“what's so funny?" you cock a brow at him and he laughs again even harder this time, before dismissing your concern with a wave of his hand. "can’t a man enjoy his last fuck with his soon to be ex-wife?” he grins like the arrogant fuck he is, the vitriol that threatens to leave your mouth is quickly silenced with a gasp as patrick swiftly enters you.

you both still for a moment, as you try to accommodate each other. it’s been a long time since you’ve slept with someone let alone your husband. you hopelessly grip onto his bicep, your manicured nails leaving red crescent shaped marks on his skin.

finally patrick starts to move, his strokes slow and languid as if he’s trying to savour every moment of this moment with you. he drinks up all the moans and expletives that carelessly leaves your lips as he picks up the pace, slamming into you with a desperate fervour.

the way patrick’s dick kept hitting your g spot was enough for you to start seeing stars, the obscene squelching sounds from your pussy was enough to drive him insane. “baby, please m’gonna—” you whined, feeling your body tense up as you desperately clawed his back.

he was fucking you stupid but you couldn’t complain, he knew your body like back of his hand our mind foggy as all you could focus on was him thrusting in and out of you.

if patrick was able photograph this moment, he would. your fucked out expression, the way your tits bounced with each thrust, the anklet he bought you that was adorned in diamonds sitting pretty on his shoulder. however he knew that this wasn’t something to be commemorated, this was a goodbye.

his hands squeezed your pretty tits, circling your spit covered nipples until they were hardened peaks. “you’re gonna what? i can’t help you if you don’t use your words doll.” he rasped against your ear, biting back the urge to moan after feeling your pussy fluttering around him.

he knew that he was being a bit mean by playing dumb but he didn’t want this to end, so if he had to prolong your orgasm then that was it.

your back arched slightly at the stimulation you were experiencing, making you heady with pleasure. “i-i’m gonna cum patrick.” you admitted, voice strained and tears brimming your eyes as you were soon approaching your climax. “see, now i can help with that.” his hands snake down to your clit rubbing it in circles, only speeding up your orgasm.

your body convulsed as you came all over patrick’s dick, legs still trembling from the after effects of your orgasm. patrick’s release followed shortly after, slumping down beside you with a huff. the two of you stayed like that for a while, your breathing being the only sounds filling the room.

eventually sleep claims you both, his arms snug around your waist providing you more comfort than you anticipated. by the time you wake up its midday and the sunlight is streaming through the curtains.

you get a start on your day, ignoring the way your muscles ache with each turn and the litter of hickeys decorating your neck that are still visible no matter how many times you part your hair in different directions.

days later, patrick finally signs the divorce papers you’ve sent him in the mail. you’re too busy staring at the words on the paper to notice your wedding ring that has rolled out of the envelope.

you hold the ring that now more feels weighted than before, it holds an air of finality toward it that leaves you with a bittersweet feeling, that it was now all finally over.

[webuydiamond]

Selling your watch collection can be a rewarding experience both financially and emotionally. By following these tips and strategies, you can maximize your profits and attract the right buyers.

[tiramisuucakeee]

6. SLOW DANCING

( sunflower, yang jungwon )

it was the night of the dance, and in the luxurious l/n penthouse, two parents gushed at how gorgeous their daughter looked, dressed in a long dark red dress, however, her date was not doing so well.

jungwon stood anxiously on the elevator, tapping his feet against the shiny floor, watching as he rode higher into the clouds through the glass panel separating him and a most probable mortal fall.

“i can do this, i can do this,” he kept repeating to himself, now facing the wide door of the place you lived in, slowly raising his hand to knock.

but before he could, he spotted a doorbell. this was his first problem. should he knock of the door, or ring the doorbell? would your parents get mad at him if he knocked on the door like he was always used to? his aunt taught him that was what people do, but maybe your family was different.

“what do i do?” jungwon murmured, and stepped back, taking his phone out of his pocket, to text someone.

“happy. do i knock on a door that has a doorbell. or do i ring the doorbell.” he read out loud his message, and instantly received the reply. “who is he calling dumb? excuse you happy, i’m being considerate…” he clicked his tongue, putting away the device and ringing the bell.

inside, you paced around the living room, while your parents chatted, being interrupted by a small beep.

“he’s here,” you paused, suddenly feeling ill. “i can’t do this, i can’t go to the dance, i am gonna fall and ruin everything…”

your mother smiled fondly at you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “daughter of mine, don’t be nervous. if you do, and your date is just as great as you old us, i’m sure he’ll catch you.”

“no, mom, you don’t understand, just tell him something came up or i don’t know,” you whined, and looked at your father, “please?”

“don’t get me involved in your love life,” he shook his head. “you better compose yourself in three seconds because i am going to let him in,” he sang, walking over to the door.

“no, no, no, no, no, this is bad,” you panicked, biting your lip and tried to calm yourself down, thinking about how insignificant this moment may probably be to the course of the universal history. you were just a teenage girl going to a dance with a teenage boy, it wasn’t like you two had the power to destroy and change universes.

“you must be my daughters’ date, jungwon?” your father opened the door, revealing a figure, standing with a bouquet of sunflowers and a box in his hands.

“yes sir, i am him,” jungwon cursed himself in his mind for speaking so formally, steve’s politeness had rubbed on him.

your father let him in, closing the door and guiding jungwon to the living room, where he almost dropped to his knees.

“wow,” he said, out of breath. he felt like he could admire you for ages.

you walked over to him, finally feeling comfortable with the moment. “hi.”

“h-hi- hey,” he blinked, almost dropping his things, but being able to catch them with his quick reflexes. “i almost forgot, i brought you, this, flowers and cookies.”

you gasped at the sight of the box, it was the same girl scout cookies the man from the liquor shop sells to you. the same exact flavor. “chocolate chip,” jungwon said.

“i love these,” you beamed, and instinctively pulled him for a hug, as he quickly took the two things out of the way, feeling your body close to his, his heart beating strong against his chest.

“okay, stop hugging or we will make you two be a minimum of three meters apart from each other forever, got it?” your dad pulled you away, before jungwon handed you the things.

“dad, calm down, he was just being nice, and i was nice back, hugs are nice,” you rolled your eyes, placing the bouquet of beautiful sunflowers and box of cookies down on the center table.

“you are too nice,” your father remarked.

“right,” you chuckled, and jumped back to jungwon’s side, feeling a small tickle in your skin. “we’re leaving now, the driver is waiting for us right?”

“yes, he’s already waiting,” your mother answered, coming over to you and placing a small kiss on your forehead. “have the time of your life, daughter.”

she then stood in front of jungwon, who was completely smitten by your smile. “you, young man, you are so lucky,” she laughed. “by her side, all night, i don’t want any calls telling me her date left her alone, got it?”

“yes ma’am,” jungwon sternly nodded, this moment was much more important to him that being a spider at night was. he could just do that later.

!

the whole car ride, your hand was tangled with jungwon’s, your head on his shoulder, as he caressed your fingers softly. he felt so comforting, that you could almost fall asleep in his arms.

“do you really want to go to this dance?” you asked, he hummed, a thoughtful sound that vibrated against you.

“we could just, i don’t know, do something else,” you said. “like, go to a restaurant to eat something, or walk around until we get to the next city,” you laughed.

“sure, because that’s really safe,” jungwon chuckled, “do you really not want to go? after all the effort you put in organizing the place?”

“i couldn’t care less about it, dance or no dance, i just want to be with you right now, if i could, i would stay like this forever,” you sighed and looked up at him, and by seeing how dangerously close his face was to yours, you hid back into his shoulder shyly, feeling a warm laugh leave his chest.

“alright, we can do whatever you want, but i have to get a dance atleast,” he said, making you jump up.

“mr. driver, please take us to duke palace,” you giggled, it was your absolute favorite place to eat in the world.

the driver nodded, changing his route. “would you like me to notify your parents about the new plan?” he asked.

“please do, and let my mother know jungwon is still by my side,” you said.

“duke palace?” said jungwon, when you laid back on him. “i’ve never heard of that place, is it good?”

“only the best, nothing compares” you said, your heart pounding as his thumb drew slow, deliberate circles on the back of your hand.

“huh, if you say so,” he replied, his voice a little softer now.

“i don’t say so, i know so,” you retorted, humming in satisfaction about taking someone to the best place of earth, and closed your eyes.

soon enough, the driver arrived at the restaurant, dropping you and jungwon off. both of you making your way inside the place hand-in-hand, being met with a warm, dim lighting that wraps around you as an invitation. the rich, deep hues of burgundy and gold create an intimate atmosphere, where low murmurs and laughter mingle with the soft notes of a saxophone weaving through the air.

“i’ve never been in a place like this before,” jungwon gapped at the sight, the sounds, and even the smell. the air is infused with the enticing aroma of seasoned meats and fresh herbs.

you two didn’t look so much out of place, as many costumers were dressed formally, as if it was a gala, clinking their glasses and laughing.

he continued looking around like a lost puppy, as you two are guided through large, arched doors, into to a charming terrace that overlooks the city. the balcony is draped with twinkling fairy lights.

a small stage at the far end hosts a trio - piano, double bass, and trumpet - each musician lost in the rhythm, as they pour their souls into the music.

after ordering some food and drinks, you waited, listening to the music.

“is this supposed to be considered a date?” jungwon dares to ask.

“i don’t know, what do you think?” you replied, getting a bit flushed.

“can it be a pre-date, date?” he said.

“pre-date, date? i don’t think i’ve ever heard that before,” you furrow your brows, and then he explains. “yeah, like, a date before an actual formal date. i just, for a long time, i’ve had planned out a first date if i ever were to talk to you,” he said.

“you’ve planned a date with me how long ago?” you asked.

“like, freshman year,” he answered in a low voice, feeling embarrassed.

this you did not expect. “jungwon, we’ve talked over game day, we’ve been in the same classes, and somehow you still waited to the last year of school to ask me out?”

“i honestly dont know why, i don’t know how i missed out on so much,” he said.

“meaning?” you furrowed your brows.

“i had every opportunity to talk to you, but i never could, i always admired you from afar, i never thought that you would be interested in me, until that happened in my home,” said jungwon.

his words felt so real, so sincere. “but you finally got the girl, and you bet i’m going nowhere,” you extended your pinky finger towards him, “are you?”

jungwon smirked, amused at the idea, “i would never dream of it.” he joined his pinky finger with yours tightly.

!

“i seriously have never eaten something as good as that,” jungwon leaned back in his chair, letting the cold night air hit his face.

“did you really like it?” you asked, wanting to get more of his input. his opinion just seemed like a reward for your pick on the restaurant.

he turned to you, that mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “i loved it,” he said, his voice a little too sincere. then, without warning, he reached over and grabbed your hand. his fingers laced with yours, warm against the cool night air. “can i tell you something, y/n?”

your heart skipped. “yeah, of course.” you couldn’t help but hang on his every word.

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt like this for anyone, if i did, it had to be you, it just had to,” jungwon spoke his heart out, “sometimes it unbelievable, to believe you exist in the same time as me. out of all the girls the universe could have made me like, it had to be you,”

“you really have a way with words, yang,” you shook your head embarrassingly, while he kept teasing you.

after a few more minutes of messing around, you were replying the missing calls from your friends. they’d been calling you for a while now, wondering where you’d disappeared to, not even showing up for the dance. the night soon got darker, and it was time to go.

jungown stopped in his tracks as you two walked to leave, “actually, you still owe me that dance,” he tugged you close, pulling you into a spin before you could say anything else. you barely had time to catch your balance, your hand pressing against his chest to keep you from falling. he was so close now, your faces inches apart, his breath warm on your skin

“i believe i do,” you both looked at each other, then, from across the balcony, a trumpet sounded once again, followed by a few more notes from the jazz band nearby. “i think this is the perfect moment,” you said.

“you couldn’t have said it better,” he grinned, taking you two towards a more open area, the tiny empty dance floor, not even bothering to mention the small stares from costumers.

jungwon’s hand slid effortlessly to the small of your back, guiding you into a slow, fluid rhythm. the music swirled around you, the warm notes of the jazz band weaving through the night air. it was smooth and free, the kind of song that made you feel like you were floating, and the way jungwon moved with you made it feel like you were both part of something timeless, like the city itself was dancing along with you.

he twirled you gently, bringing you back toward him in a seamless motion. his eyes never left yours. there was something about the way he held you that made your chest tighten, the air between you electric.

“you’re really good at this,” you said, breathless, your hand resting on his shoulder. “is this a hidden talent of yours or what?”

he grinned, that charm shining through. “maybe, maybe not. but you’re not that bad yourself” his words were light, but his eyes were intense, like he was fighting the urge to say something else. he fingers brushed the edge of your waist, sending a spark up your spine.

the song flowed on, the band playing around you, and for a moment it felt like you and jungwon were the only ones on earth. his movements were smooth, confident, like he’d done this a thousand times, but the way his eyes lingered on yours made it clear this was a different kind of special.

as the song began to slow, jungwon’s hands moved closer to your face, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw. you both stopped dancing for a moment, the music still playing softly in the background, the moment between you growing heavier. his breath was warm against your lips, and you could feel the tension building, thick in the air. there was no need for words anymore.

just as you both leaned in, inches apart, the sound of applause from the jazz band broke the spell. the trumpet player called out, his voice warm and friendly, but full of a mischievous edge.

“you two! you’re really good!” he shouted with a smile, clapping his hands. “you make a great pair! haven’t seen kids dance like that in years!”

both of you jumped back, startled, as if the world had shifted back into place. jungwon laughed nervously, his cheeks tinged pink, looking almost embarrassed.

you swallowed hard, trying to shake the tension from your body, the moment still lingering between you, but now broken, scattered by the band's interruption. jungwon gave you a sheepish smile, brushing his hair out of his face.

“i guess... we make a great pair,” he said, the words tasting a little different now, a little more loaded than before.

“you two are a special kind, eh?” the member of the band spoke, seeing the flicker in your eyes when looking at each other. “a spark like that, you must pay a heavy price to have something like it.”

!

jungwon and you were back at your house, standing at the front door, as something lingered in the air.

you swung back and forth in your heels, your hands on his. “so…, i guess this is goodbye for tonight?”

jungwon nodded, but the way his eyes lingered on yours told you something more. "yeah... i guess so..." his voice was almost strained, like he was holding back something he couldn’t quite say.

“uh huh, tell aunt may i said hi, alright?” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and went to ring the doorbell, before you could press it, jungwon’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with surprising urgency. the touch was electrifying, and you froze.

"wait-" his voice was sharp, his breath catching, as if he’d just realized he was about to let something slip by. “just, let me do something, real quick, okay? trust me.”

you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. his eyes were wide, a little frantic, but there was something else there too. hope. desire. something that felt like it was bursting to break through.

you swallowed hard, feeling the pull of his gaze on you. the air was thick now, you hesitated, feeling that same pull in the space between you.

“i trust you,” you muttered, almost as if it was the only thing you could say in that moment.

he looked like he was about to say something else, but instead, he took a small step closer. his face was inches from yours, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes, like he was weighing the risk. then, without another word, jungwon leaned in, just enough that you could feel his breath, warm and steady. your heart was pounding louder in your ears now, your pulse racing.

for a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, then, just as your lips were about to brush, he stopped.

he froze.

“are you... sure?” he whispered, his voice low, but intense. his breath was hot on your face, and you could feel the tension vibrating between you both. the moment was teetering on the edge.

you felt your stomach tighten, your own breath coming out in uneven bursts. you could see it in his eyes, he was holding back.

why?

“have i not been obvious enough?” you looked at him, as he towered your figure. “i need this, please.”

that was all he needed. jungwon eyes softened, and then, in an instant, he closed the distance between you.

his lips crashed into yours, urgent and desperate, like he had been waiting for this moment far longer than either of you had realized. his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as your bodies aligned, pressing against each other.

you let out a breath, feeling the heat of him, his mouth moving against yours, the rhythm of his kiss slow, but building, as if he couldn't get enough.

it was like all the tension, the want that had been building between you two all night, broke loose. his hand went from your neck to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you couldn't help but respond, your body moving toward his, hands sliding up to his shoulders, as a small shiver run up your spine.

for a moment, you forgot about everything, about the world, the night, the doorbell. there was only him, and the feeling of his lips, the warmth of his body against yours. the need you'd both been holding onto melted away, and it was just you and him, together in this moment, no hesitation, no more interruptions.

when you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, there was a look of wonder in his eyes. he didn't say anything at first, just staring at you, like he was trying to catch his breath too.

"i really," he whispered, his voice shaky. "really-" He chuckled, his face flushed. "really wanted to do that."

you smiled, your hands still resting against his chest, your pulse still racing. "please start doing the things you really want to," you breathed out, your voice soft and dazed, as he let out a small laugh.

but jungwon wasn't done. his hand slid to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as he looked down at you with a look that said everything he couldn't quite put into words. he leaned in again, this time more tenderly, his lips brushing yours in a slow, lingering kiss, as if he was making sure this time, this moment, would stay.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

"like that?" he whispered, his voice soft, but there was a promise in it.

you nodded, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw before you let them fall. "exactly like that."

jungwon gave you one last lingering look, eyes dark with that same fire, before he stepped back, as you finally went inside your house, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

and you both stood on opposite sides of the door, having the same feeling of butterflies in your stomachs, as you breathed to calm down, and he quickly left the place, not forgetting about his duty with the city, and you left for your parents room, ready to tell them all about the boy who had you smitten.

TAGS: @jiiyen @yjwxfxr

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[igglemouse]

I have no idea what my friend, my dearest Sofia, think's she's doing. Her ego is about the size of this country and so she truly believes she can just decide to become an actress because she looks good? Is that it? I almost feel like this is a personal thing with her, she wants to prove to me that...

OH! Right! Hello! I'm Teresa Tejedor and yes, I am an aspiring actress, and so is my friend Sofia, for whatever reason. She's been a sort of model I think and she believes that acting is the usual next step in her career. For whatever reason. I know better, I know it's just her latest get rich quick scheme.

But lets be honest for a moment, she doesn't have what it takes. She just likes the idea of being an actress, the fame, the luxury. You know, the designer shoes and dresses, the attention, the flashing cameras, the red carpet, but she has no idea what it takes to make it there. Not like I do.

It takes years of looking at yourself in the mirror and going "Damn I look good," and knowing with full confidence that you look so incredible that people will pay just to watch you do things. That's what being an A-list actress is about and she's not up for it. I am.

Even now I spend hours and hours before my mirror reading crappy skits for commercials, yes, commercials, because a lady has to start somewhere.

I hope that I move past commercials and move into comedy. I'm not sure why but there is something about the genre that I enjoy. It simply feels good to laugh, doesn't it? I like the easy-going nature of a sitcom or a romcom and how it never asks to be taken seriously. It wants you to enjoy yourself in that moment and that moment only and while playing the romantic interest of some comedian might not win me any kind of Simmy Awards it'll sure be a lot of fun.

My dad said be an actor but be a comical one! Alright, no, he didn't say that but imagine he through song and dance?

Enough about acting, I'm sure you only care so much about that and maybe you care a little more about me? Understandable, I'm someone you might want to know just a little more about and for now all I'll say is I've spent most of my life her in the DSVEEEEE! That's Del Sol Valley, for you lames, born and raised!

That means I'm pretty familiar with the people and places here and have a few friends I can lean on with one of them heading over now.

This is Phi Suttikul, a woman I met while waiting tables at the old Sunrise Diner, remember that place? The owner was crazy! Martin something? Any ways, the old man owned the place and shut it down to focus on his place in Oasis Springs for whatever reason. Either way, suddenly being jobless has allowed me to finally focus on my dream but it has left a bit of a void for Phi.

"I just feel out of place here," she tells me. "Everyone in this town is chasing fame and everything that comes with it while I'm just...well, here."

"Girl, you need goals! You don't have to be an actress or musician or influencer, just find something to reach for?" I tell her this over and over again because it really does feel like she just moves through each day with little to no purpose. "You've put your resume out there and are getting no job offers at all?"

"Nope, nothing!" she puffs out as if the entire job search has been exhausting for her. I can only imagine. "How about you? Any auditions?"

I give a shrug of my shoulders and wave of my hand. "I might be selling laundry detergent, if I get the part."

She chuckles at that. "Hey, better than nothing? How about Sofia, heard from her lately?"

I give my head a small nod but I admit to having a fully smug smirk firmly on my face. "She thinks being an actress is just about looking the part and is already planning her red carpet walks and outfits."

"Uh huh, that girl really shoots for the moon," Phi snickers with familiarity. She might not know Sofia like I do but she knows her well enough.

"She usually does get what she wants though," I begrudgingly admit.

"Mmhmm, she wants the good life and I wouldn't be surprised if she got it. Millions and millions, adoration, and respect. Some people are just born fortunate-"

"Yeah, don't we all, don't we all," I cut her off because I'm ready to move on from the topic of Sofia. You know the more you mention her name the more power you give her? Actually, I believe that is true for most people. "Sooo, what plans do you have for the week then Phi?"

"Well...umm..." she pauses because she likely plans on smoking weed all week and doing absolutely nothing.

"Oh Phi! We really have to get your life jump started!"

I'll be honest though I don't really have much planned either, at least for the rest of the day. I have an audition tomorrow and I plan on acing that and we'll see what happens from there. For now I just have a simple bowl of apple salad because I am incapable of cooking. No one is perfect.

Before I do call it a night I get in some extra mirror time because practice makes perfect and if I'm going to be the movie star I think I can be then I need to spend a lot of time practicing! This is a cut throat business with hundreds of people all vying for scraps. Just think about how many other women would love to get this role selling laundry detergent, how many would kill for this role, and how many would be content with just starring in commercials.

So I have to be the best I can be and I have to 'break a leg' as the saying goes.

But my life is not a stage and I do want what most people want out of life. Someone to share my victories and defeats with, someone to laugh with and at, someone to love. Who doesn't want a little romance in their lives? If only I knew where to look. Where does one find the perfect partner?

I hear cupid's corner is an option and so I flip out my phone and scroll through the choices and honestly most are not very appealing. I do pause on a nerdy kind of guy, not usually my type but something about him interests me...

My dating life is another problem for another day! We'll see what comes of it I guess!

Teresa Tejedor - Next Episode 1.2