#ten things i hate about you tv

[goofyjelly]

Yes I started listening to The Filthy Souls, yes this is because of Patrick Verona, yes I am getting a bit too into this band, no I haven't looked for the shirt online, yes I am unwell

[nostalgc]

Random girls from tv/movies <3

[yesimtrashforit]

Film quotes I love/that changed my life

Dead Poets Society (1989)

• John Keating: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"

• Neil Perry: "I was good. I was really good."

• John Keating: "There's a time for daring and there's a time for caution and a wise man understands which is called for."

Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022)

• CEO Waymond: "When I choose to see the good side of things, I'm not being naive. It is strategic and necessary. It's how I've learned to survive through everything."

• Alpha Waymond: "Every rejection, every disappointment has led you to this moment. Don't let anything distract you from it."

• Waymond: "The only thing I do know... is that we have to be kind. Please, be kind. Especially when we don't know what's going on."

• Jobu Tupaki: "I wasn't looking for you so I could kill you. I was just looking for someone who could see what I see, feel what I feel."

Little Women (2019)

• Jo March: "Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they've got ambition, and they've got talent, as well as just beauty. I'm so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for. I'm so sick of it.

But I'm so lonely..."

• Amy March: "Well, I believe we have some power over who we love, it isn't something that just happens to a person."

Theodore 'Laurie' Laurence: "I think the poets might disagree."

Amy March: "Well, I'm not a poet, I'm just a woman. And as a woman I have no way to make money, not enough to earn a living and support my family. Even if I had my own money, which I don't, it would belong to my husband the minute we were married. If we had children they would belong to him, not me. They would be his property. So don't sit there and tell me that marriage isn't an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you but it most certainly is for me."

• Jo March: "If I were a girl in a book, this would all be so easy."

• Meg March: "Just because my dreams are different than yours doesn't mean they're unimportant."

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

• Charlie: "I don't know if I will have the time to write any more letters because I might be too busy trying to participate. So if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school, and you helped me. Even if you didn't know what I was talking about or know someone who's gone through it, you made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don't happen. And there are people who forget what it's like to be 16 when they turn 17. I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite."

• Patrick: "You see things and you understand. You're a wallflower."

Donnie Darko (2001)

• Dr. Lilian Thurman: "Do you feel alone right now?"

Donnie: "Oh, I don't know. I mean, I'd like to believe I'm not, but I just... I've just never seen any proof, so I... I just don't debate it anymore, you know? It's like I could spend my whole life debating it over and over again, weighing the pros and cons. And in the end, I still wouldn't have any proof. So I just... I just don't debate it anymore. It's absurd."

Dr. Lilian Thurman: "The search for God is absurd?"

Donnie: "It is if everyone dies alone."

Dr. Lilian Thurman: "Does that scare you?"

Donnie: "I don't want to be alone."

• Donnie: "How's it feel to have a wacko for a son?"

Rose Darko: "It feels wonderful."

• Donnie to Cherita Chen: "One day everything will be better for you."

10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

• Kat: "You don't always have to be who they want you to be, you know?"

• Kat: "Why should I live up to other people's expectations instead of my own?"

The Holdovers (2023)

• Paul Hunham: "There's nothing new in human experience, Mr. Tully. Each generation thinks it invented debauchery or suffering or rebellion, but man's every impulse and appetite from the disgusting to the sublime is on display right here all around you. So, before you dismiss something as boring or irrelevant, remember, if you truly want to understand the present or yourself, you must begin in the past. You see, history is not simply the study of the past. It is an explanation of the present."

• Angus Tully: "He used to be fine. He was better than fine. He was great. He was my dad. Then about four years ago, he... started acting strange. Erratic, forgetful, saying all this weird shit. My mom took him to a bunch of doctors, and they put him on medication. But that just made it worse. He got more confused. Then he got angry. And then he got... physical. That was it. That was the last straw. They put him away. And she divorced him... without him even realizing it. That's why she wants a whole new life. And it's easy to just stash me away in boarding school. Like half of us are just stashed away there. And I get it. She never has to look at me. Because maybe when she looks at me, she... she sees him. Maybe she's right. I can't keep it together. I lie. I steal. I piss people off. I don't have any friends, real friends. I'll probably get kicked out of Barton too. And when I do, it'll be my own fault. Get sent to Fork Union and maybe to youknowwhere. And nobody will care. The funny thing is... I wanted to see him so bad this whole time. But I also didn't, you know? Because I'm afraid that's what's going to happen to me one day."

Paul Hunham: "You're not your father."

Angus Tully: "How do you know?"

Paul Hunham: "Because no one is his own father. I'm not my dad. No matter how hard he tried to beat that idea into me. I find the world a bitter and complicated place, and it seems to feel the same way about me. I think you and I have this in common. But don't get me wrong, you have your challenges. You're erratic and belligerant and gigantic pain in the balls, but you're not your father. You're your own man. Man, no. You're just a kid. You're just beginning. And you're smart. You've got time to turn things around. Yes, I know that Greeks had the idea that the steps you take to avoid your fate are the very steps that lead you to it, but that's just a literary conceit. In real life, your history does not have to dictate your destiny."

• Paul Hunham: "You know, Mr. Kountze, for most people, life is like a henhouse ladder: shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday, you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don't, I feel sorry for you and we will have failed to do our jobs."

Barbie (2023)

• Ruth: "Humans have only one ending. Ideas live for ever."

• Gloria: "It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong. You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman, but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood. But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault. I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing a woman, then I don't even know."

• Ruth: "We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back and see how far they've come."

• Barbie: "I want to be a part of the people that make meaning. Not the thing that's made. I want to do the imagining. I don't wanna be the idea."

• Ken: "We were only fighting because we didn't know who we were."

• Sasha: "You have to try. Even if... Even if you can't make it perfect, you can make it better."

Her (2013)

• Theodore: "Sometimes I think I have felt everything I'm ever gonna feel. And from here on out, I'm not gonna feel anything new. Just lesser versions of what I've already felt."

• Samantha: "The past is just a story we tell ourselves."

• Amy: "We are only here briefly, and in this moment I want to allow myself joy. So fuck it."

I Saw The TV Glow (2024)

• Maddy: "Time wasn't right. It was moving too fast. And then I was 19. And then I was 20. I felt like one of those dolls asleep in the supermarket. Stuffed. And then I was 21. Like chapters skipped over on a DVD. I told myself, This isn't normal. This isn't normal. This isn't how life is supposed to feel. If you don't think about it, it can't hurt you. I found our hearts and they were still beating. There is still time."

[themidnightcircusshow]

@heartofstanding tagged me in this meme months ago and unfortunately it took me this long to get to it because I had a mild crisis over how long it's been since I've read a novel, let alone one that I loved 😅 so this is nine of my favourite novels (not books, because if I included manga/short stories/comics/etc this would be giant)

0The Picture of Dorian Gray -- Oscar Wilde// Pyrrhus-- Mark Merlis//The Scarecrow--Ronald Hugh Morrieson//Unnatural History--Kate Osman//Tunnels of Blood--Darren Shan//The Coffin Dancer--Jeffery Deaver//Hero--Perry Moore//Frankenstein--Mary Shelley//One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest-- Ken Kasey

[konshokoentaiko]

i always thought i was a very typical enemies to lovers girlie but i think i just realized my actual taste in ships is the dynamic where the two are supposedly equal rivals/enemies who represent diametrically opposed themes (for the Aesthetic), but in actuality it’s just one of them yanking the other around on a chain while the other whines and rages and protests and ultimately makes an absolute spectacle of themselves

so uhhh. how did THAT happen and when and why

[drabblesandsnippets]

The Bet

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “Louder, let everyone hear you.” | [Screaming/Noisy Sex | Gangbang | Exhibiotionism] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k) Bucky’s girlfriend thinks she can stay quiet during sex - Bucky’s more than happy to prove her wrong.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Praise. Brief mention of insecurities. Dirty talk. Domination. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV.

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

“Wait,” Bucky says, reaching for the remote yet again. “Why does she even care? I thought she hated him.”

Bucky and his girlfriend are cuddling on their king-sized bed, enjoying another quiet night at home - something their friends like to tease them about, but they’ll never change. Home is where all their favorite things are. 

The moment Bucky pauses the show - for what feels like the hundredth time since they started the episode - she buries her face against his chest, her groan slightly muffled by his shirt.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes her body as he asks, “What? I’m trying to understand!”

She picks her head up to glare at him, only slightly frustrated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “You’d understand if we started from the beginning instead!”

She’s been trying to get him to watch her favorite show for months now, and when he randomly suggested they watch the latest episode tonight, she wasn’t going to argue.

She’s regretting that now.

For someone as intelligent as Bucky, he’s oblivious to the inner workings of TV drama.

Bucky blinks slowly at her response, his eyes wide like she just said they should’ve gone to Sam’s impromptu karaoke party. And then he lets out an incredulous laugh, quick to point out, “There are ten seasons of this show! By the time we get caught up, there will be at least five more.” 

Her mouth opens in surprise, and she pushes herself up, one hand on his stomach, her other hand moving to her chest like he’s just wounded her.

“First of all, there are six seasons.” Bucky playfully groans in response, the pout on her face telling him exactly where she’s going with this. “And even if there were ten seasons, you wouldn’t want to watch them with me?”

“Okay.” Bucky’s laughter reaches his eyes as he tosses the remote to the side - it’s clear he’s not going to be pressing play anytime soon.

He looks adoringly at his girlfriend as he sits up with her, his gaze never wavering. “Doll. Sweetheart. Love of my life. I’d enjoy watching paint dry with you.” 

Her smile almost breaks through, but she holds back, patiently waiting for him to continue. He’s either about to make too much sense, or he’s about to dig the hole deeper. 

After a soft, dramatic sigh, he gently tells her, “But, we haven’t even gotten through this episode, and it’s already been over an hour.”

The moment he says it, he has to hold back his laughter, her response exactly what he’s expecting.

Her mouth drops open again, and she laughs at the ridiculous notion that she’s to blame for their time-management issues.

With a quick shake of her head, and resisting the urge to poke him, she quickly points out, “You keep pausing to ask questions!” 

The moment the words are out of her mouth, Bucky seems almost too eager to remind her of several moments that had nothing to do with him. Sure, he’s partly to blame, but most of the interruptions had nothing to do with him.

Like during the first five minutes when she kept getting up because she forgot something. Or when she had to search a familiar looking actor.

“Or,” Bucky continues, his tone gentle, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “When you swore you’d heard that one song before-.” 

She cuts Bucky off before he can finish the last thought, shoving one of the pillows in his face, his hands quickly deflecting it.

“I get it!” she says, laughing with him as he pulls the pillow away from her before she can attempt to hit him with it again.

His slightly raised eyebrow tells her he’s waiting to see if she’s going to try to defend herself.

“Fine,” she relents, giving him another exaggerated pout that makes him grin. “I guess no marathons for us then.”

She glances at the TV where the episode is still paused before turning her attention back to Bucky, her own grin growing. “At least,” she starts, her eyebrow raising suggestively. “No marathons of the TV variety.”

Bucky laughs, a surge of arousal rushing over him at the mere suggestion, but has to shake his head, the disappointment clear on his face.

With a pointed look, he reminds her, “Sam’s down the hall.”

Sam materialized on their doorstep a couple of days ago to stake claim to their guestroom once again, this time while in the city for a friend’s birthday. 

There hadn’t been any objections at the time - and there aren’t any now, as far as Bucky’s concerned.

He really doesn’t care if Sam hears them having sex. It’s not like Bucky’s never overheard him before. But Bucky knows his girlfriend. If she thinks Sam might have heard her, it’ll take her weeks before she’ll be able to be in the same room as him without turning red. 

She’s not thinking about any of that, though.

It’s been a few days since there’s even been an opportunity for them to get lost in each other, and she doesn’t want to waste this one.

With a smile and a slight shrug, she simply says, “So? I can be quiet.” 

Bucky’s bark of laughter rings out, and she narrows her eyes at him. Before she can even think about it, he quickly grabs the pillow still sitting between them so she can’t throw it at him and instead flings it to the side, making her laugh. 

“What?” she asks, still feeling confident in her words. “I can be!”

“No,” Bucky says, trying to hold back his laughter as he shakes his head at her. The simple refusal of her statement makes her lips part in a surprised exhale, but before she can make an argument, he adds, “You are entirely incapable of being quiet, doll.”

He can’t help but lean just a bit closer to whisper, “Especially with me.” 

That feels like a challenge to her. And even though she knows Bucky is probably right, she can’t just give in. She’s just as stubborn as he is, and she knows exactly how to play this.

With a quick flick of her tongue to wet her lips, she leans towards him, their mouths almost close enough to touch, and asks, “Wanna bet?”

Her question has the desired effect, causing Bucky’s stomach to flutter with a rush of excitement. She’s a strong, confident, capable woman, and there’s almost nothing she can’t do, especially once she puts her mind to it.

But, there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’ll have her screaming by the end of the night.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, his eyes glancing at her mouth as he starts to close the short distance.

Her hope to feel his lips on hers fades quickly, though, Bucky pausing to grin at her, needing to set the terms of their deal first. 

“When you lose, we’re finally getting that swing.” 

For the briefest of moments, she hesitates. The idea of a sex swing excites her, and it’s something they’ve been discussing for months - even going so far as to choose their favorite - but the intimidating feeling of being on display like that has never faded.

Bucky’s only ever made her feel beautiful, and sexy, and desirable, but that doesn’t mean he can completely erase decades' worth of insecurities. 

Bucky doesn’t rush her, not with something like this. He’ll give her all the time in the world to decide if this is a bet she’s willing to take. And if she decides she’s not ready, then he’ll accept that without hesitation, no matter how much he wants her to say yes. 

The anticipation is short lived though, because a smile spreads across her face and before she even says, “deal” he’s already hard, imagining how incredible she’ll look suspended and tied up for him, completely at his mercy.

There are so many possibilities, and the sooner he wins, the sooner he gets to make them all a reality.

Her lashes flutter when Bucky’s hand moves along her scalp, his fingers sliding through her hair to softly grip the strands. She allows him tilt her head back, putting her in the perfect position for him to finally kiss her, and she tries to remain patient. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because after just a soft brush of his lips against hers, he’s pulling away again, the grin on his face causing her to let out a frustrated sigh.

As much as Bucky wants to just jump right into this with her, the faint taste of her on his lips making his cock twitch, he’s taking this bet seriously. 

He meets her gaze, holding her head steady, and says, “We gotta set some ground rules first.”

She breathes heavily but doesn’t move, waiting for him to continue, wanting this just as much as he does.

“No covering your mouth,” he tells her, increasing the hold of her hair, making her gasp softly.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way her thighs tense with arousal, and he groans softly, pulling her closer so his lips brush across the corner of her mouth. “That includes no biting me.” 

She lets out a soft exhale of a laugh, but doesn’t object, no matter how much she enjoys sinking her teeth into him when he’s fucking her hard.

And considering this bet and what’s at stake here, there are no plans to go slow tonight. 

With a slight nod of her head, his fingers limiting her movement, she agrees, but she’s unable to stop herself from still being a bit of a brat. “Is that all?”

Bucky pulls back, narrowing his eyes at her, his breathing slowing down as he fights the urge to smile. He loves when she pushes back - it’s her way of telling him not to go easy on her. 

“No,” he answers her, his vibranium hand suddenly coming up to wrap around her throat.

The brief flash of surprise that crosses her face is quickly replaced by a look of pure desire, her trust in him radiating off of her. It encourages him to keep going, his need for her reaching new heights.

“You’re also not allowed to tell me to stop just because you can’t be quiet.”

Her body tingles with pleasure, just like it always does when he takes charge, and she has to bite back a moan as the ache between her thighs intensifies.

She’s playing with fire, but all it does is excite her, even as she briefly wonders if she has an ounce of a chance of winning this bet. 

The moment he asks if she agrees to the terms, she answers without hesitation, telling him, “Yes.”

With a cheeky grin, she adds, “And I look forward to winning.”

That’s all Bucky needs to hear and he pulls her against him, crashing his mouth against hers, his tongue immediately demanding entrance.

With his hand around her throat and his fingers gripping her hair, he keeps her in place so he can kiss her, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.

As much as Bucky enjoys taking his time with her, he’s on a mission tonight.

There’s a primal urge to claim her, to prove how quickly he can make her lose control. And there’s no doubt that he’s going to win this bet.

Within just a couple minutes, Bucky has her naked and writhing underneath him, her head resting on a pillow.

His lips follow a slow trail from her neck to her breasts, taking a moment to focus on her sensitive nipples, giving them both the attention they deserve, his ears trained on the soft noises of pleasure already leaving her. 

Her hands never leave his body, needing something to hold onto to keep her focus, her fingers gently tugging at his hair while her other hand grabs at his shoulder, pressing against the defined muscle.

She’s already having to force herself to take slow, deep breaths, the occasional shift of hips causing his hard cock to tease along her wetness, making her want to beg for more.

She remains as quiet as possible though, her eyes drifting closed as Bucky’s mouth travels lower, taking his time to place tender kisses all over her soft stomach, reminding her how much he loves every single inch of her.

He doesn’t even care that she’s not looking at him right now. He’s just grateful for the way she gives herself to him, trusting him to treat her like she deserves.

With one last glance up, Bucky eagerly settles between her thighs, the smell of her filling his nostrils, making his mouth water.

The soft groan that leaves him makes her hips twitch, and he pauses for a second to take her in, both hands coming up to keep her spread wide for him.

She’s already so wet, the sight of her swollen clit just begging to be licked, and he can’t wait to hear her come apart for him.

The first slow swipe of his tongue along her slit causes her body to tense, the sudden sensation making her breath hitch, almost making her forget all about the bet.

Bucky learned her body so quickly when they first became intimate, and now, the familiar swirl of his tongue around her clit immediately makes her back arch, a moan getting trapped in her throat.

He loves the taste of her, happy to spend as much time between her thighs as she lets him, and even though that’s not what tonight is about, he still takes a moment to appreciate the delicious meal she’s offering him.

He alternates between long licks, and fucking her with his tongue, grinding his soft beard against her pussy to get as deep as he can, as if starved for more of her. 

Despite Bucky’s own noises of pleasure getting louder, hers remain low, and it’s not long before the desire to hear her scream builds inside of him again.

Without warning, his mouth suddenly closes over her clit, his tongue resuming the perfect rhythm against the bundle of nerves and his hands grips her thighs, holding her in place.

She cuts off the harsh gasp that spills out of her, and her fingers tighten their grip on his hair as her hips move against his mouth, chasing her pleasure.

Despite half her focus on keeping her sounds under control, he’s still able to quickly bring her to the edge, and her other hand grips the bedsheet as the tension suddenly snaps.

As much as it turns Bucky on to watch her and feel her come for him, there’s something wrong about not hearing her as she loses control.

He refuses to pull away though, his mouth working her through her orgasm, his hands holding her, letting her ride out the waves. His own hips grinding against the mattress, his cock hard and heavy, aching for relief.

When she becomes too sensitive, he takes pity on her and quickly kisses back up her body, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Her need for him is too overwhelming though, and within seconds, she meets him in a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue. 

She doesn’t allow herself to get lost in the moment for too long, her body craving more, and she reaches between them, her fingers wrapping around his thick cock, ready to remind him that she still has a chance of winning this bet. 

Bucky welcomes her touch, his hips thrusting forward, groaning against her mouth.

She takes advantage of his pleasure-filled state, rubbing her thumb across the head of his cock, the tip slick with his arousal, and proudly states, “I told you I could be quiet.” 

The laugh he makes in return sends a shiver down her back, and she can barely quiet the soft squeak as he pulls her hand away, his fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist.

He’s always careful not to cause her any real discomfort, but the look he gives her still makes her freeze, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky chuckles, slowly pinning her hands over her head as he starts to grind his cock against her. “We’re barely getting started.”

Her body tenses in anticipation, expecting him to thrust inside of her, but he doesn’t change his pace, his eyes taking in how beautiful she looks, all desperate and needy, her skin flushed.

Even after all this time with him, she’s still not used to all the attention he gives her, and she’s grateful that he allows her to move with him.

Each shift of her hips makes her breath quicken just a bit more, the length of his cock sliding along her clit, and she’s pretty sure she could come just like this. 

The thought of it makes her body pulse with arousal, and she quickly nods her head, breathing quickly. “Please,” she whispers, her fingers flexing under his hold.

He grins down at her, tightening his grip slightly, keeping the same pace, watching her fight between completely giving in and trying to silence her noises.

Bucky wants the noises. He needs them. He needs to hear her whines and moans and cries as he brings her pleasure.

She’s clearly determined to win this, but so is he. And the moment he feels her almost reaching the edge, he suddenly stops, pulling his hips out of reach of her.

She has no idea how, but she manages to keep the whine of “no” down, her voice almost betraying her. Bucky’s soft laughter helps keep her focused, though, and she glares at him, breathing heavily.

Her mouth opens in protest, but before she can even think of how to react, his vibranium hand closes around her throat, pushing her down against the bed. 

“Oh god,” is all she can say, her voice trembling as she tries to mentally prepare herself for whatever Bucky has planned.

He knows her too well though, and the moment he moves, she almost loses the bet.

His right hand slides between her thighs, and in one smooth motion, he fills her with two fingers, curling them inside of her to press against her front wall.

She bites her lip hard enough to almost draw blood, but she’s able to dampen her cry of pleasure as she throws her head back, both hands now gripping the sheet. 

Bucky gives her no time to gather her composure before he starts moving, the heel of his hand rubbing hard against her clit while his fingers stroke over her g-spot.

She may not be speaking, but her body is talking, the sounds of her wetness filling the air. He growls his approval and leans over her, his metal fingers twitching against her throat.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, watching her as he quickly works her towards another orgasm. “Your pussy’s talking to me, doll. Just begging for more.”

She pulls her lips inward between her teeth, biting down as she breathes heavily through her nose, the pleasure starting to make it harder to focus.

His words aren’t making it any easier, but she’s grateful that he doesn’t make her look at him, her eyes currently shut tight, her head pressing into the pillow underneath her. 

There’s something so intoxicating to Bucky about being in charge of her pleasure, and he knows he’ll never get enough of her.

For just a moment, he forgets about the bet, his eyes taking in the way she writhes underneath his touch, everything about her encouraging him to keep going. Her back arching, her legs spread, hips thrusting in time with his hand as he fucks her deep and hard.

Except, she’s still keeping her noises to a minimum. Even as she starts to breathe quicker, the gasps turning to shuddering sighs, she manages to somehow keep it all under control.

And it’s starting to get under Bucky’s skin. He can’t be a gracious loser when it comes to this.

That primal feeling resurfaces in Bucky, the urge to take her hard and fast igniting inside of him. But, first, he needs to make her come again.

He quickly moves his left hand down her body, pressing hard against her clit, giving him the ability to fuck her harder with his fingers.

Her eyes roll back in her head, and she nearly screams, his fingers deep inside of her, curled and rubbing hard against the spongy tissue.

She can feel the pressure building, and she grabs her legs, her hands wrapping around her ankles to keep her spread wide for Bucky.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, just as breathless as she is, his body humming with pleasure. “Can feel you, sweetheart,” he moans, grinding harder against her clit, knowing exactly what she needs to get over the edge. “Doing so good for me. Gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

She quickly nods her head, but she can’t trust herself to speak. She can barely breathe anyway as her fingers dig into her ankles, the slight pain giving her something to focus on, reminding her of the stakes here.

She’s so overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even fucked her with his cock yet. She has no idea how she’s going to win this bet.

She can’t think about that right now though, because her entire body suddenly tenses, and she squirts, coating his hand with her juices.

She barely hears Bucky’s groan of approval, but his words of praise quickly flood her brain, and she comes for him, using every bit of energy to not cry out.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you,” his deep voice adds to the pleasure still washing over her and she lets go of her ankles to reach out for Bucky, needing him.

He quickly joins her, resting some of his weight on top of her, letting her cling to him as her body shudders, her hips riding his fingers. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against her neck, his fingers buried deep inside of her, savoring the way her pussy pulses with each wave of pleasure. “I think I should I make you come again, just like this.”

He’s only half-serious, his cock aching to be inside of her.

Her expected whine makes him laugh, and he curls his fingers inside of her again, easily finding that spot that makes her tremble.

She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, but her mind is starting to clear, and she immediately shakes her head. “Absolutely not.” Another breathy moan, and then, “I think you should let me suck your cock.”

Bucky groans, allowing himself to briefly consider it, but kisses her softly and tells her no.

As much as they both enjoy when he fucks her mouth, it’s not going to help him win this bet. Her mouth needs to be free to make all those beautiful noises.

“I think you’re forgetting the point here, doll.” he teases, sitting up between her thighs and slowly sliding his fingers out of her dripping pussy.

She doesn’t even try to stop the soft whine from the loss, and he grins at her, watching her as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the delicious taste off both digits. 

The sight of him clearly enjoying himself makes her want to bring him more pleasure, and she leans up to kiss him again, welcoming the taste of her wetness on his lips and tongue.

When her teeth playfully bite at his bottom lip, his fingers tangle in her hair to pull her head back, meeting her grin with one of his own.

“How about I put my cock somewhere else?” 

The smile on her face grows, despite her slight disappointment at not getting to have him in her mouth. And as Bucky rests back on his knees, she slides her hands down to touch herself, giving him an even better view of her wet pussy. 

The action immediately makes him groan, and his hands move to her ankles, gripping them to steady himself. After all this time, she still has the ability to catch him off guard, and it makes him love her even more.

They both watch as he moves his hips forward to slide his cock along her slick slit, almost slipping inside her before gliding up to tease her exposed clit.

The movement sends a jolt of pleasure through both of them, and she lets out a soft whine, shifting her hips to try to guide him to where he needs to be.

It’s futile, though. Bucky’s doing this on purpose. Trying to make her forget the bet, but she keeps herself under control, breathing heavily through her nose, proving to him she’s just as dedicated as he is.

With a longing look on her face, and another shift of her hips, she pleads, “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s fingers tighten around her ankles, but he stays exactly where he is, continuing to tease her with the head of his cock. “You sure you’re ready?”

His gentle tone makes her laugh softly, but he shakes his head at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m serious, doll.” His breathing is just as heavy as hers, his body tense from trying to control himself. “I’m planning to fuck you until you scream for me.”

She’s far from making objections, her need for him overwhelming. As if he needs any more encouragement, she licks her lips and raises her brow at him, declaring yet again, “I’m going to win this bet.”

His laugh sends another shiver down her spine and a pulse of pleasure straight to her clit. There’s no way she’s winning this bet, but she’s going to have fun losing.

Bucky angles his hips, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and as the tip of his cock pushes against her entrance, he tells her, “Arms over your head.”

She narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t question it, knowing there’s a good reason for it. And she’s excited to find out what it is. 

The moment her hands grip the pillow under her head, he smirks at her and snaps his hips, burying himself inside of her.

A harsh gasp leaves her, but it’s not loud enough to make her lose and she throws her head back, biting her lips to keep her mouth shut as he starts to fuck her hard. 

Bucky pushes her legs back, spreading her wider as he finds a quick rhythm. His own noises of pleasure get louder, but he does nothing to quiet them.

He knows how much she craves the sounds he makes, the pleasure she gives him like nothing he’s ever experienced. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans, trying not to squeeze her ankles too hard, “you feel so good, baby. So wet, oh my god.”

She can’t look at him. She clings to the pillow underneath her, her forearms cradling her head as she does everything in her power not to cry out. His cock feels so good inside of her, reaching all the spots that make her toes curl and her body shudder in pleasure.

Bucky is more than desperate to hear more from her. The soft gasps and whimpers doing nothing to quell the ache to experience her pleasure at its fullest.

He’s used to her cries and moans filling the room, and while everything about her is telling him she’s enjoying herself, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Stay just like that,” he orders her, sliding his hands down, squeezing her thick thighs as keeps moving, his hips never faltering.

She’s in no mood to disobey, willingly letting him fuck her towards yet another orgasm. Bucky can feel her tightening, her walls trying to keep him in place on each outstroke.

“That’s it. You wanna come for me again? Wanna come all over my cock?”

She can’t trust her voice and all she can do is nod her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at him.

He immediately growls and leans forward, letting her thighs spread around him as his hands go to her bouncing tits, making her back arch, allowing him even deeper.

Bucky curses again, her wetness allowing him to bottom out each time, and he can feel his own orgasm building, the sight of her writhing underneath him almost too much.

“Fuck,” he growls, his right hand moving to her stomach, loving the feel of his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his hips never slowing. “You feel so good. Come on, come for me, doll, let me feel you.”

All it takes is one brush of his thumb over clit and she comes again, her fingers sore from her tight grip the pillow. But all she can focus on is the electric current of pleasure rushing through her, the tension causing her to clench her teeth.

She resists the urge to press her face against her arm, and somehow manages to make it through the intense pleasure with only making soft, breathy moans.

It’s at this point that something in Bucky snaps.

He fucks her through the waves of pleasure, waiting until her body finally starts to relax, before he suddenly pulls out.

The whine she makes is louder than all the sounds she’s made tonight, and she opens her mouth in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not quite done with you yet,” he promises her, the gruffness of his voice making her hips shift.

Bucky chuckles softly and runs his hands over her body, his fingers dancing over her throat before sliding down between her breasts. 

Before he does anything else, he checks in with her. “You ready to keep going?”

Her words come easy this time. “Yes, please," she smiles, lifting her hips again as if to entice him.

He has other plans though, and instructs her to turn over, the roughness of his voice returning. The excitement on her face is clear as she quickly obeys, getting into position - head down, ass up.

Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the view, the desire to claim her burning him up. He controls his breathing and reaches out, running his palm along her back and down to her ass, relishing the way she immediately spreads her thighs even more.

“Good girl,” he praises her, his voice deep with admiration. And then he slaps her ass, hard enough to make her gasp, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him.

They grin at each other, and he does it again, making her groan softly, but she pushes back, welcoming the sting. 

Bucky’s hand rubs across the pinkening skin as his metal hand slips between her thighs, teasing her with his fingertips.

She’s more than ready for him to keep fucking her, but he still asks again, needing to hear her give him permission one final time.

As soon as she utters the soft plea of ‘yes, please’ he’s lining up behind her, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft to guide himself back to her welcoming pussy.

He wastes no time and sinks into her with a soft groan, her hot, slick walls enveloping his hard cock like she was made for him. 

Bucky takes her slowly at first, the feel of her pussy fluttering with each long stroke of his cock making it difficult to focus.

She’s so sensitive, and with each deep thrust, her soft noises start to get just a bit louder, reminding him he’s on the right track.

His tender touches start to become a bit firmer, and as her hips begin to meet his with more force, he suddenly grips her waist.

Bucky plans to do whatever it takes to elicit louder noises from her, and without warning, he starts to piston his hips, making her take all of him, over and over. 

This time she’s expecting it though and has just enough time to grit her teeth, each thrust making her gasp, her breath coming quick and shallow.

It’s taking all of her focus not to give in and let herself lose the bet already; she’s just too stubborn to give in, no matter how good Bucky is making her feel.

The irritation grows in Bucky, her lack of noise starting to feel personal, and his hands move to her hips, grabbing fistfuls of her ass as he starts to fuck her harder.

He watches as her back arches and her fingers grip the bedsheets, each deep thrust causing her legs start to shake again. She’s almost there. He can feel it.

She whines his name, and her hands scramble to grip the edge of the mattress, keeping her head turned, refusing to bury her face in the covers.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs, the tenderness a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking her. “Gonna squirt for me again, aren’t you?”

All she can do is nod her head, her eyes shut tight, trying her best to keep her noises under control. But, with each thrust of his cock, she feels herself slipping, her skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat. 

It’s like a breath of fresh air to Bucky, watching as she starts to slowly lose control.

Any other time, he might take it easy on her, wanting her to be proud of herself for doing something she didn’t think she could do.

But, he’s way past that point now. 

Now, all he wants is to make her lose control and scream for him. And he has one more trick up his sleeve.

Bucky’s strong hands slide up along her back as he raises himself up, placing his feet flat on the bed in order to crouch over her, keeping his cock buried inside of her.

“Oh god,” she breathes, her eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to prepare herself.

She loves this position, but it’s going to be her downfall. And it’s clear Bucky knows it, because the moment he starts moving his hips, he starts talking to her, the growl in his voice pushing her closer to the edge.

“That’s right. Told you I was gonna fuck you until you scream for me.” 

He fucks her hard, the angle making his cock rub against her g-spot with each stroke, and she can feel the coil in her belly tightening.

She can no longer stop her noises from getting louder, and without thinking, she makes a desperate move to regain some semblance of composure.

With a quick pull of her elbows, she buries her face between her forearms, trying to quiet the cry of pleasure as she reaches a breaking point.

Bucky won’t allow it though, and grabs a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to the side.

“Fucking take it,” he demands, grunting with each hard thrust, “fucking take all of me.”

It’s too much. She can’t hold on anymore and her body tenses, her tightening pussy almost pushing him out.

“That’s it!” he growls. “Come for me, baby! God, I love you so fucking much.”

She sobs as her stomach tenses and she squirts, each hard thrust causing her wetness to run down her thighs and soak the sheets.

He talks her through it, like he always does, telling her how beautiful she is, how good she feels, and how much he loves making her come for him. 

Even as her body pulses from the aftershocks, Bucky keeps going, slowing his pace as he settles back to his knees behind her, trying to help her come down slowly.

She was loud, but not enough to satisfy his need to hear her scream.

“I need you to give me one more,” he murmurs, running his hands along her sweaty back. 

She whispers his name and shakes her head, her trembling limbs trying to give out on her.

Bucky’s quick to guide her onto her back again, this time slipping a pillow underneath to raise her hips.

He’s already fucked her senseless - she’s barely able to keep her eyes open - but he knows she has one more to give him.

Bucky starts slow again, giving her time to come back down, waiting until she can finally look up at him, still clearly cock-drunk.

He murmurs words of praise, telling her once again how beautiful she is, splayed out like this for him, her arms over her head, her thighs spread wide.

“You’re gonna look so good in that swing, sweetheart. All tied up and on display for me.”

Whatever insecurities that usually run through her mind are absent, and she moans at his words, starting to slowly move her hips against him, welcoming his cock back inside of her.

The image of being completely at his mercy makes her body pulse, and Bucky smiles down at her, sliding his hands along the sensitive skin of her thighs, just taking another moment to truly appreciate her. 

At this point, it doesn’t matter how he makes her come. She’s going to scream for him either way, all her inhibitions now gone that the bet is over.

And that frees him up to give her everything she could possibly need. “Tell me how you wanna come this time.” 

She breathes heavily and just slowly shakes her head for a moment, still not sure she has anything left to give.

But, if there’s anyone that can pull it out of her it’s Bucky. 

He waits patiently, fucking her slowly, barely pulling out before sliding back in until he’s completely sheathed. “Do you want me to keep fucking you like this?”

His fingers slowly move to her pussy, watching the way her body takes him so perfectly as his thumb finds her clit.

“Or do you need something else?” 

The shaking of her head turns into nods and she tries to find her voice as her back arches, her body welcoming the intense pleasure.

Her body is so sensitive, like every nerve ending is exposed, and she’s still not sure what she needs. Bucky will give her whatever she asks for, but she’s too lost in the moment to answer him.

As much as he’s enjoying the unfiltered sounds coming out of her, he needs her to talk. He needs to know she’s still with him, that she truly wants him to keep going.

“Sweetheart.”

There’s a slight edge to his tone, and she meets his eyes again, a soft smile forming on her face.

He grins down at her and nods encouragingly, “I need your words.”

She nods again, but as she starts to say “I want-” her words are cut off by a soft whine, Bucky’s cock bottoming out inside of her, finding that spot that makes her legs shake.

They both laugh softly, and she shakes her head at him before she finally finishes her thought, “I want you to come with me.”

A deep moan leaves Bucky at her request, his grip on her thighs tightening as he resists the urge to start moving faster.

“Is that what you need?” he asks, starting to lean forward, peppering kisses along her breasts and collarbone.

Her answer of ‘yes’ comes quickly and he starts to rock against her, grinding his pelvis against her clit.

“Yes,” she repeats, the simple word causing pleasure to race up Bucky’s spine.

He drops to his elbows, caging her in, and they both start moving at the same time, her legs wrapped around him, encouraging his hard thrusts.

“Yes, fuck me, oh my god.” She doesn’t care how loud she is anymore, the cries and moans leaving her without a second thought. 

Bucky’s already close, her pussy practically milking his cock, each flutter making him groan. But, he’s a man of his word and he’s not going to let himself give into the pleasure until she comes one more time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, panting above her, unable to tear his gaze away, committing this moment to memory. “Such a perfect pussy, baby. Just made to take my cock.”

She clings to him, her nails scratching down his back, sure to leave marks. But he welcomes it, the sting adding to his pleasure, watching as she cries out, her body starting to tense, her final orgasm building.

When she whines his name, he hears the apprehension in her voice, as if to warn him that this one’s going to overwhelm her. 

Bucky’s fingers slide through her hair, and he cradles her head, forcing her to keep looking at him.

“It’s okay,” he promises her. “Give it to me. Give me everything.” Her back arches and her pussy tightens, the sounds of her wetness filling the air as she starts to squirt again. “Fuck yes, come for me!”

And she does, her breath hitching as the sudden explosion of pleasure rocks her body.

Bucky doesn’t stop, moving hard and fast against her, forcing his cock to stay inside of her, even as her walls clench around him, almost pushing him out.

She cries out, finally giving him what he’s been working towards all night, her scream of pleasure sure to wake the neighbors. 

Bucky can barely hold back, his own orgasm threatening to consume him, but he fights through it, giving her a few more seconds of his attention.

“That’s it, scream for me. Let everyone fucking hear you.”

But then she’s begging him to come too, her sobs of pleasure pushing him over the edge, and he kisses her hard, his tongue sliding along hers.

All his senses are consumed by her, every single part of him entirely overwhelmed with pleasure, the rhythm of his hips faltering as his cock pulses, filling her up with his cum.

After a few more lazy thrusts, their hips finally come to a stop, and he groans against her mouth, collapsing on top of her. 

They’re both panting, their arms wrapped around each other, Bucky’s weight a welcome feeling as he starts to nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent.

They take their time coming back down, murmuring words of love and affection, their lips eventually meeting again in a soft, tender kiss. 

She barely registers him rolling them over, but makes a soft noise of protest when he slowly pulls out.

Bucky’s own sigh joins hers, the loss of her warmth making his softening cock twitch. If it wasn’t so late, and she wasn’t clearly spent, he’d happily go another round.

For now, they snuggle quietly, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while his fingers make slow, soothing strokes along her back.

Bucky’s sensitive ears pick up the steady rhythm of her heart as well, the sound a constant comfort to him even on his hardest days. 

Eventually, they finally move, sharing another brief kiss and exchanging words of love yet again, neither of them ever tiring of hearing it - or professing it to each other.

But, they need to clean up, his release still leaking out of her, leaving her slick - and he’s not much better off, their combined fluids matting the hair at the base of his cock.

Bucky’s first to finish in the attached bathroom, and he’s already in bed when she returns, the covers pulled up to his stomach, his phone in his hands.

The silly grin on his face makes her laugh, and she climbs onto the bed, asking him, “What are you up to?”

He gives her a quick glance, his bright smile making her heart flutter as he returns his attention back to his phone.

“I’m purchasing that sex swing.” 

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

The Prize

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[moongreenlight]

Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”

Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.

But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.

He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.

He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.

He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.

You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.

He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.

He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.

He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.

He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.

You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.

You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.

Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.

He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.

And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.

“Alright?”

You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.

It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.

“You sure, doll?”

The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.

Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.

You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.

“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”

You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.

“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”

You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.

“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”

He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.

“What? Baking me a cake?”

You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.

“Never been a very good baker.”

He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.

“That right?”

You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.

“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”

It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.

“Sure.”

You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.

“It’s complicated, John.”

Your voice is mousy now.

“I know.”

A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.

“I just-“

“Then tell me to go home.”

The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.

“My husb-“

“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”

The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.

“John, he-“

A throaty growl from him.

“He’s not getting a lick of you.”

And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.

He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.

Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.

When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.

It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.

You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.

He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.

He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.

And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.

The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.

He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.

And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.

You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.

He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like

“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”

[pirateprincessblog]

needle to the heart

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim hongjoong x f!reader x choi san 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, smut, bride!reader, ex!hongjoong, ceo!san, cheating, marriage, past lovers 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: public, voyeurism, orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, infidelity 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i whipped this out in three hours. enjoy. i did. i'm horny. and sad. not proofread. :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

you liked to think that you were the furthest thing from a bridezilla. you did everything on your own or with your partner, kept your family and friends out of it, for their and your sake, and little by little, all the planning was coming to an end. the seating arrangement was finished, bridesmaids happy, parents satisfied, and you and your partner relaxed. all that was left to do was find the wedding gown and tuxedo.

for your last wedding, your then partner and you did not have a big budget. you did not plan a big wedding either, knowing that none of your family members would attend and he had a very small circle of people.

kim hongjoong was in college, struggling to make ends meet. but he loved you, more than anything. would've kept you in his pocket if he could. he borrowed money from his brother to pay for the venue and catering, and used his savings to buy himself a suit that was conveniently on clearance. as for your dress, he made it for you. his dream of becoming a fashion designer never faded, even though it cost him his apartment and most of the food. he lived off of coffee, pretzels and cigarettes.

he quit them for you, hoping to create a better impression in your parent's eyes. but all they saw was a cigarette smelling, hair dyed boy whose dreams were too big for his own good and he could not give you a good future. they didn't not like him. they hated him. your father, usually having a soft spot for even a pout from you, let alone tears, was unfazed as you begged him to give hongjoong a chance.

"you'll become homeless in no time."

"don't come to us when everything falls apart."

"what do you know about love at your age?"

"why can't you find someone more successful?"

and you almost went through with it. you sat in the hand sewn wedding dress, with your hair done by your best friend, and make up done by yourself. the dress itself did not look like it was made in under a month by a man. it looked like it was stripped from a mannequin in a wedding dress shop. and you loved it. you loved every bit of it. you loved every bit of him. the smile he had on his face as he handed you the box, and the little excited clapping as you admired his creation in awe.

yet, as soon as your best friend left you to get the veil from the car, you regretted it. what if it really does go wrong, and you have no backup. you didn't go to college, instead choosing to work until you decide what to do with yourself. but your paycheck wasn't enough to find an apartment for yourself, let alone two people. then comes the food, the utilities, and his college. would he ask you for money? would he contribute at all? would you have to work two shifts to cover both of your expenses?

in the ten minutes that your best friend, the maid of honour, was gone, your brain managed to mess with your feelings and got you out of the dress and through the window. you ran in the clothes you arrived in, leggings and sweatshirt, with undone hair and face full of smeared makeup. your parents ushered you in, your mother happily wiping your makeup off and preparing you your favourite meal.

your phone did not ring once. it hurt your heart to think that hongjoong did not reach out to you. not him, not his family, and not your maid of honour. you were alone. hurting. you did not want to do it. but if hongjoong had been just a tad bit more patient, everything would've been perfect. neither of you were financially stable on your own, or together, and barely had the money for the wedding. hongjoong didn't understand it. or didn't want to understand it. blindly in love, he just wanted to gift you the world. say the word, and he would create it out of thin air for you if he could.

you moved cities, changed numbers, forgot names and faces, met new ones. you met choi san. a kind, polite man you've met at the gym. the encounter was like one from a movie; someone raising their voice at you for borrowing some equipment and shoving you backwards as you tried to defend yourself. when your back hit the wall, you were certain the giant bodybuilder's fist would soon meet your face. until he came to rescue.

"pick on someone your own size."

"this your girlfriend or something?"

"she is. even if she wasn't, what gives you the right to talk or touch anyone like that?"

"tell your slut to keep her fingers to herself and ask the next time she wants to- oof!"

in a split second, san's fist connected with the man's jaw. it was amusing seeing the giant man stumble back, taking a hit from someone who was shorter and not as bulked as him. the workers were quick to react, but on his behalf. both of you got your membership cancelled, bags and bottles flying out the door, along with you two. you stood in front of the glass doors in the dark, your saviour next to you, equally in disbelief. until you started laughing. and he joined.

from that night, everything seemed to fall in place. you felt loved. safe. had hopes and dreams again. your parents accepted san, just like his parents accepted you. family dinners and lunches were now an often occurrence, with san always abducting you while everyone was busy preparing food and giving you attention where nobody could see.

it was sweet and innocent at first, and more heated and passionate as days went by. choi san knew how to sweep you off your feet, whether it was with a sudden trip to your dream destination or a simple chocolate bar he picked up at the gas station. aside from loving, caring and protecting, he was also rich. you would sound shallow if you said it out loud, but it did contribute. looking at your last relationship, this one felt safe. you didn't need to worry whether you'll spend today's budget on your daily coffee or on your partner's food so he doesn't starve.

now, a few years later, not only do you have a majestic venue, a big number of people you wanted to invite in the first place, and a dreamy groom, but you are also getting your wedding gown custom made. you sit in your fiancé's car, a brand new black and shiny lexus with red seats he bought for the wedding that is just three weeks away. he assured you that the gown would be done by then. it had to be.

"see anything you like, love?"

"they're all so... revealing." you complain, closing one of the dozens magazines san's assistant has found you.

san chuckles, putting a hand on your thigh and keeping the other one on his steering wheel. you still feel goosebumps every time he touches you. his hand is warm on your skin, gently squeezing your bare thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. "you can draw your own picture if you wish. i'll do everything to make sure you have your dream dress. i want my future wife to be happy."

as an owner of a highly successful company that produces luxurious jewelry and watches, choi san could afford everything. yet, he was still cautious with his money. he kept his receipts, tracked his own expenses, but never spared when it came to spoiling you or tipping workers. the only thing you regretted was not meeting him sooner.

"i am happy." you respond, even though your tone is irritated.

"you're so cute when you try to conceal your emotions. you can be angry with something, that's alright."

"i'm not angry. i'm pissed."

"tell me what you want, and i'll make it happen."

"i don't know what i want." you admit, throwing the magazines in the back seat.

"ah," san says. "can i be of any help?"

"you can try."

"you love sparkles. why not go all out?"

"i don't know."

you rest your head against the window, looking at the tall building that overshadows all the others as you give your brain a break. it is san's building, and you have been in there many times. some days spent sitting in the cafeteria and having lunch with him, and some spent against the window, bare body pressed against the cold glass as his warm hands held your waist in place and hips connected with yours. you feel arousal pooling between your legs, and instinctively press your thighs together at the memory.

san recognizes the way you chew your freshly manicured nail, eyes stuck on the highest level on his building and cheeks becoming flushed. he smirks to himself, before letting his hand dip between your thighs and feel the warmth of your core.

"san-" you gasp, quickly rolling up the window.

usually, you do not mind. but in the middle of the day, in a busy city as you wait for the green light?

"may i know what got you so worked up?" he asks, knowing the answer already. he just needed to hear it from you while you were a flustered and stuttering mess.

"you know."

"i'm afraid i don't. mind reminding me?"

you look at him with an annoyed face. you realize it is a mistake, your eyes hungrily taking in his presence. he looks ravishing with his slicked black hair, with a few strands falling over his smug face, a black halfway unbuttoned shirt with rolled up sleeves and his sleeve tattoos on full display. the tattooed hand grips your thigh, his pinky finger inching closer and closer to your clothed core. your gaze drops on his tattoos, having memorized all of them by now. your favorite one overshadows the rest, and when he first showed it to you, it had your jaw dropped for a long time.

your eyes inked on his skin, details astonishing. your lashes, your iris, to the smallest vein in the whites of your eye. it was cleverly camouflaged with the rest of them, but still standing out if someone were to look at it a bit longer.

something about him pleasuring you with that hand had you seeing stars. choi san loved you so much that he got a reminder of you permanently marked on his skin. and he made sure to show you how much he loved you in other ways. just like now, easily moving your panties aside and brushing his fingers against your folds. he circles your clit, causing you to squirm in your seat and claw at the red leather underneath you. he doesn't protest, instead loving the view and sounds you make for him.

"my pretty wife," he coos, then dips his fingers into your aching hole.

you moan, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, finally relaxing your body. san has given you passion and an adrenaline rush. you can't help but be jealous of his previous lovers. were they also treated like this?

you feel the car move, and his fingers plunge deep inside of you. you gasp, opening your eyes and holding onto the door handle and his wrist. he smoothly navigates the busy roads, not once taking his hand off your body. his thick fingers easily find your soft spot, not sparing a moment before abusing it and inching you closer to an intense orgasm. he is forced to stop at another red light, causing you to groan out of frustration. you wished for nothing more than to get out of the busy city center, beg him to stop in an empty parking lot so you can offer yourself to him in the back seat.

"excuse me?"

you become stiff under his touch, ears picking up a foreign voice. san does not halt his moves, relentlessly slamming two fingers into you, hidden by your dress. you squeeze his wrist - a poor attempt to stop him.

"yes?" your lover rolls down his window, shifting his focus on the older couple that approaches the car.

"do you know where this street is? we aren't usually in this city." they show san their phone screen that has an address written in the notes.

as san explains, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and embarrassment. the green light could turn on any second, and your orgasm could wreck your body in the same time span. you can't help the gasps that leave your lips, even though your head is turned to the other side. it does not make the situation easier, seeing that the sidewalk is full of people waiting for the bus. and have a perfect view inside the car. some of them recognize the pure bliss on your face, and while a few turn their heads away, two or three of them stay looking at you.

"and then you turn left after the restaurant." san finally finishes, and you almost do too.

"thank you, kind man. is your... partner alright?"

all three look your way, and you have to fight the urge to yell at the couple to leave and be on their way already. instead, your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves along your spine and making your eyes roll back. you hear faint snickering, and a gasp. you know that the couple is traumatized, and that san is enjoying every bit of it. as are you.

you don't conceal your moans anymore, allowing sounds of pleasure to echo in the car that now smells less new and more like you.

"i hope you find your location." the man greets, removing his hand from your glistening folds and letting his tongue feast on the fluids that coat his fingers.

before they can respond, the light turns green, and san is quick to step on the gas pedal and leave the shocked crowd behind.

"you're insane." you exhale, a smile creeping on your lips no matter how angry you wish to sound.

"and you love it."

san's assistant is still a student. she works for him so she can afford her college. her job description says doing tasks that make san's job easier, but in reality, her only task is to keep you company and help you around the wedding. and she does not complain.

"april, this looks fabulous." you gasp, gawking at the three story wedding dress shop a few days later.

"i know, right? i pass by this shop every day on my way to college. i really want to buy my own dress here some day." the redhead sighs, dreamy gaze roaming the white gowns. "you know, mr choi is so cool for letting you design your own dress."

"when you get proposed to, give me a call. i'll see what i can arrange." you playfully reply.

she laughs, then finally pushes the door and holds it open for you. sometimes you feel jealous of her. she has fire red hair, and green eyes, the most gorgeous shade you've ever seen. she spends a lot of time in san's building, right outside the office. even though she has never shown interest in him, you can't help but moan just a bit louder when you're in there with him, hoping that she hears and gets the message.

"the owner is so hot, mrs choi. i met him the other day to book a consultation and-"

"mrs choi?" you raise an eyebrow.

"oh- i mean- can i call you that? it sounds so... sexy. mr and mrs choi. the hottest couple i know. not even brangelina can top you."

"april!" you hush her. still, you can't help but blush at her compliment. you're happy to know that she sees you as attractive as san.

after a short introduction and a few words of praise for san, you are sat on a white couch with golden accents, a champagne in your hand and magazine in the other. the shop assistants offer all the help they can, showing you various gowns they already had and handing you rough sketches. but none of them were good enough. it was hard to pick, when you didn't know what you wanted.

"where's the owner? i thought he would be here." you ask on april's behalf.

"oh, he had urgent business. if you wish, i can schedule another consultation in a few days. or you can wait for him, but he arrives late today."

"how late?" the redhead asks, brows furrowed.

"an hour after closing. but i can keep the shop open for you until he arrives."

april groans, making you chuckle. "you have to go, don't you?"

"yeah. boo. but you should definitely stay. the wedding is two and a half weeks away, and you have no vision of your dream dress. i have five in mind!"

and so you do stay, occupying yourself with browsing various materials of lace, satin and whatnot. each of them are undeniably stunning, with a detail that makes it unique. the last assistant that stayed behind encouraged you to explore the two floors again while she stays downstairs and finishes the remaining paperwork.

your heels click against the marble stairs as you climb to the first floor, eyes skimming the room for the second time today. the dresses on this floor seem more modest, with long sleeves and not as much cleavage. quickly getting bored of the floor, your proceed to the top one. it is extravagant, gowns dripping in sparkles under the strong white lights. once you finish going through all of them, you head over to the show window, examining the two mannequins dressed in two versions of the same gown.

you sigh, feeling disappointed that you are so hard to please. your eyes drift to the streets that have calmed due to the lateness of the night and sudden change in weather. it is pouring, most of the stores are closed, making the wedding boutique stand out in its full glory. a few people pass by, none of them headed to the store and instead clutching their umbrellas close to themselves so they don't get wet. you begin feeling annoyed with the owner. he could've notified you that he had sudden errands, and you would've rescheduled instead of wasting your time coming here at all.

then, you see a figure walking towards the shop. and your heart drops.

it can't be.

you rush to the top of the stairs, careful to not make any noise.

"mr kim! you're drenched! i'll get you a-"

"no need, kendra. it's not that bad."

it is him.

his voice you could recognize anywhere, no matter how long has passed. his figure, his voice, even the footsteps that are getting louder and louder. you are not ready for this encounter.

"you can go home, love. i'll close up after i've finished with..."

"mrs choi."

"right, mrs choi."

so he does not know it is you. and he won't. not until he sees you. you're a fool for not exploring the place first, finding out the name of the owner. and you're a fool for not leaving when april did. at least then she would've maybe told you his name, and you would not come back-

"y/n?"

ever again.

"you're mrs choi?"

you sigh. there is no going back. there is no avoiding it. best get it over with. do you address him professionally? or by his first name? "mr- hongjoong."

he scoffs, and you finally turn around before you stumble on more words. the sight takes your breath away. this is not your ex hongjoong. it is mr kim, owner and designer of wedding gowns. his hair is not a vivid colour as it used to be, instead his natural dark locks match his dark eyes. it is damp, drops of rain falling from the loose strands and on the mopped floor. he wears a black coat, a black turtleneck and slacks. a complete opposite from your blue haired hongjoong who loved his diy sweatshirts and sweatpants. the man stands still, his expression a mix of anger and grief, and yours only astonishment.

"thought you'd see me sleeping on a bench somewhere? beat and hungry? not successful and financially stable? not over you?"

"no, i-"

"wow. who would've thought i'd be making a wedding gown for my ex fiancee." he approaches you, and you don't have energy to step away. instead, you stare as he puts his hands behind his back and casually leans in, face close to yours. "again."

"i-" you try again, feeling his hot breath on your lips.

"well, shall we get to business? before you change your mind faster this time? wouldn't want the poor man to have the same fate as i."

anger, along with regret, pools in the bottom of your stomach. anger that he didn't reach out to you. and regret for what you did that caused him not to.

"choi... choi san? the owner of that watch brand? well, this watch brand." he shows you his wrist, the familiar watch design shining under the boutique lights. "can you believe that? i can afford it and not go bankrupt. i have to admit the prices are whopping, but it is a really nice-"

"can you stop fucking shitting on me and give me a chance to speak?" you interrupt him this time, brows furrowed and nails digging into your palms.

"fine. go." he sits on the couch in the middle of the room, putting his leg over the other.

"that day... i just-"

"no. speak of the design you want." he interrupts again, making that bubble of anger inside of you bigger and bigger, threatening to burst any moment. "you haven't come here to explain yourself. nor did you ever think of doing that. just because i had a few things to say doesn't mean i want to hear you out. now, speak. long? short? sleeves? no sleeves? easier to unzip so you can leave faster without anyone noticing you?"

your palms burn from the intensity of your nails digging into your skin, and your teeth abuse the insides of your cheeks. "fuck you."

hongjoong abruptly stands up from the couch, causing you to stumble back in order to defend yourself. "me? fuck me? what did i ever do to you besides loving you?"

"you didn't listen. if only you did, we could've been married by now. we weren't financially ready then-"

"i had found a job. i saved up. i wanted to surprise you with a new apartment. but you surprised me with my own wedding gown laying on the floor without the love of my life in it. i have to admit, you outdid me there. did not see that one coming."

"i didn't know about your job."

"of course you didn't. you didn't want to know. your family brainwashed you. tell me, is san filthy rich? is he the one paying for this dress?"

his voice is dripping with bitterness, and his sour smile makes your insides turn uncomfortably. you're not used to seeing him be this mean. but something tells you that you will never see the pure side of hongjoong you've known ever again.

"did your parents adore him as soon as they heard his name? after all, he can afford a lavish wedding. he can give you anything you ask for. all i could give you was the ability to disappoint them with your partner choice. my apologies for that, by the way. i should've known better."

"stop. i'm leaving."

"no, you're not. your little assistant made a contract with us, and you are not to leave the shop until you have your dream gown."

"i don't want your fucking gown."

"boo-hoo. cut the tears, dollface. you're not in a position to be sad or angry. i, however, am in a position to chew you out for what you did to me."

"and you're not chewing me out right now?" you reply, angry tears streaming down your face. you hate crying from frustration.

"this is me holding back, my ex lover. you don't wish to hear me unleash."

stubborn, you straighten your back and walk towards him, until you are mere inches away from his face. "unleash, then. let me hear what you've been brewing all those years."

the man doesn't flinch. instead, he hands you a gown from the rack, shoving it into your hands. "go try that on."

"i don't-"

"go."

letting out a shaky exhale, you enter the dressing room. you finally look at yourself in the mirror. slightly smeared mascara, a few wet trails on your cheeks, and frizzy hair. when you put on the dress, you look just like the day of your wedding; dressed up, hopeless, and troubled. it's like deja vu, putting your hair in a claw clip so that you can see the dress better. tears of anger slowly turn into tears of sadness. you have robbed yourself of your first love, and him of his happiness. you turned him into a bitter man.

"suits you." he comments nonchalantly, hands crossed over his chest. "now, i wonder. by the look on your face, you did not know i own this place or design the pieces in it. what did you think i did after you left?"

"i didn't think." a lie.

"did you think i'd drown in tears from sadness?"

"you know, it seems to me that you thought about me more than you wish to admit." you play his game.

"i am not afraid to admit anything. i did think about you. i ran after you. your best friend stopped me. said you were not worth it. that you'll forever let your parents navigate your life. some best friend, huh?"

you didn't hear from her, or anyone else. nobody reached out to you, and you didn't reach out to anybody. it seemed like a mutual silent decision. and it killed you inside.

"try this one." he hands you another. "might be a bit big, but i'll adjust it."

the switch from professional to whatever the other thing is scares you. so you listen. it's the least you can do. you want to get your dress already, and he might get closure. both of you might. the second dress is plain satin with a corset top. it accentuates your eyes, and isn't revealing, with a simple sweetheart neckline. the pearl straps are made to fall off the shoulders, showing off your collarbones. hongjoong had a fixation for your collarbones, always leaving a hickey or two when making love to you.

you look at yourself with disgust. you're choosing a wedding gown for a man of your dreams, and your mind wanders to the way the man outside the dressing room marked your body every chance he got.

"come out, bride." he calls, and you can't tell if he is mocking you or really means it.

you come out, collarbones on full display, and mascara still smeared. he was ready to throw another comment, but upon seeing you, words get stuck in his throat. his jaw drops slightly, and eyes roam your figure hidden in the satin layers. your waist invites him, as does your unmarked skin. and you know desire in his eyes when you see it. and you hate that you feel it pooling in your core as he approaches you.

"you told me to unleash?" he whispers.

"yes. please do." you beg, hoping to finally close this chapter of your life. "don't hold back. i can take it."

he looks at your teary eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek. he always did that when he thought hard. finally, he steps closer, until your chests almost touch. the towers over you, making your head tilt slightly so you can look at him. the sight is too familiar to him; you below him, teary eyed and smeared makeup. the only thing missing being his load coating your cheeks.

"i hate you."

"okay." you gulp, looking at his chest in front of you.

"i hate what you've done to me. i hate that i ever loved you. i hate that you moved on so easily, while i had to stay back and live in a town where everything reminded me of you. i hate that i was so gullible, thinking we could have a future together. i hate that i thought i was good enough for you."

"hongjoong-" you wish to stop him before you break down. but he doesn't. instead, he places a hand on your neck, causing you to gasp and look up at him once again. your hands wrap around his one wrist in hopes of removing it. "hongjoong-"

"most of all..." he pushes you against the wall, putting light pressure on the sides of your neck. he brings his face close to yours, so close that your noses touch and lips brush each other. when he speaks, you feel how soft and warm they are, and hear how venomous his words are. "...i hate that i still fucking love you. i hate how good you look in a dress you wear for another. i hate that another one is kissing you, touching you, giving you everything that i couldn't. i hate how stunning you look, and i hate myself for being so weak to your mere existence. i hate that you look this good, and it is not for me."

"you're hurting me," you sob.

"you're hurting me, mrs choi. after all these years, you still hurt me." two tears escape his eyes, and he shuts them and furrows his eyebrows. "i hate that i can smell him on you."

his grip softens, but he doesn't remove his hand from your neck just yet. you swallow, before letting his wrist go and instead wiping his tears away. he opens his eyes, not expecting a soft approach from you. when he looks at you, you don't see the resentment anymore. you see pure pain. and you hate to admit that you feel the same.

"we could've been perfect together."

"we could've." you confirm, moving his damp strands from his face and brushing his hair in the process. it is as soft as you remember it. he closes his eyes again under your touch, exhaling and letting himself go in your arms.

"please," he whispers. "one last time."

your moves halt, and your brain freezes. your heart thumps loud inside your chest, and you're sure he can feel it too. "what?"

"one last time." the dark haired man allows his hand to slide from your neck, index finger following an imaginary line down your neck and running over your collarbones. "let me give you a chance to change your mind."

you wish to say no. with all your heart. you love san, more than anything. you've grown with san, you've created a new future with him. but your love for hongjoong is... familiar. old. nostalgic. and still undead. it was buried alive, and you didn't even know it.

"please..." his whispers become softer, and lips closer to yours.

"don't..." you try, voice an equal whisper.

"please," he begs again, his other hand sliding to your waist and pressing your body against his.

"don't," you say, voice shaking as you fight your brain and heart, both already at war with each other.

he closes the distance, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. it is a split second, but in that second, he opens the pandora's box, unleashing everything bad about you. you gulp, feeling his scent envelop you. he smells like rain and jasmine, and it blends with his natural scent so well.

"please," he kisses you again, each kiss short and sweet, and full of pain and desire.

"don't."

"please."

"don't..." the hand that was on your collarbones slides to the zip on the back of the dress, undoing it smoothly and loosening your dress. "stop..."

he kisses you again, spilling begging words over and over, and you do not push him away, despite your words. "please."

"don't..." you exhale when his hands cup your bare breasts. "stop."

"y/n."

"don't stop."

"my love."

"don't stop."

"my beautiful."

"don't stop."

"my only one."

"please don't stop."

as if you shattered the invisible wall that held him back, hongjoong lets your dress pool on the floor and picks you up, pinning you against the wall and making your legs wrap around his body. his lips hungrily search for yours, kissing, sucking, biting, everything he dreamed of for the past few years you were gone.

your hands roam his body, taking off his coat and helping him out of his turtleneck. your tongue finds his, eager to taste him again. you hum the moment you touch the hot muscle, which generously gives you back equal attention. he tastes the same. he tastes like home.

"i should've ran until my legs stopped working. i should've called until my finger became numb. i should've called out your name until my voice faded." with each sentence, he gets rid of a piece of clothing, until your bare bodies are pressed against each other on the soft couch.

you don't speak, instead pulling him by his hair to kiss him again. he chuckles lightly into the kiss, your eagerness amusing to him. you're not in the mood for any foreplay, core already dripping with arousal and desire to feel him after many years.

"i want you to say it out loud." he stops for a moment, looking deep into your eyes.

"don't make me say it."

"i need you to. otherwise, i'm leaving."

"hongjoong..." guilt eats up your heart, the image of san appearing before your eyes.

"say it. say you want me. say you want me to make love to you and send you back to your future husband with my marks and scent all over you."

"i want you." you whisper.

"what was that?" he leans in closer, holding your jaw in one hand while his other one gently spreads your legs.

"i want you, hongjoong."

"atta girl." he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i won't be gentle."

you nod, excitement overshadowing the guilt from your infidelity. hongjoong doesn't let you adjust like he always did. instead, he places his hot, leaking tip to your entrance, and slides in easily and deeply. your nails dig into his back, and walls welcome the familiar girth. you both moan into each others mouths, and stand still for a few moments. it is the sudden moment of realization when you look at each other than makes his eyes become darker, and he spares no time before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours again.

his lips leave yours, letting you moan and whine freely as your fingers pull at his hair. his tongue leaves a trail down your neck, all the way to your collarbones. he sinks his teeth into your skin, pulling the thin flesh between them and harshly sucking. you yelp, but don't push him away. you'll let him have this. you don't feel it after the second bite, instead focusing on the way his cock relentlessly slams into you, abusing the sensitive spot and inching you closer to an orgasm already.

his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises, and right now, you do not care how you will conceal it.

"hongjoong..." you gasp.

"yes, doll?"

"i need- i don't want to cum yet." you admit.

he pulls away, enough to turn your body over so that you are laying on your stomach. he raises your hips, and presses your head against the soft surface of the couch. then, he slams his hips into yours, speeding up his moves. you are a moaning and drooling mess, not being used to being used this roughly. san was passionate, and not soft. but not rough either. hongjoong is just that: his hatred for you might be the main initiator.

"i'll send you back to your fiancé full of my seed." he growls, pulling your hair back.

your nails dig into the cushions, and eyes look at the mannequins in the show window. you don't have time to feel guilty again, because hongjoong wraps his hand around your neck and picks up your body so that your head rests on his shoulder and you can look at him as he drills into you from behind.

"look at me when i'm fucking you."

your hips hopelessly work with his, body tired from chasing the orgasm already.

"is my darling tired?"

you simply whimper at his question, the grip on your neck too strong for any other response. he pulls away once again, wasting no time in picking you up and walking over to the mirror. he lets you face it, palms pressed against the cold surface. he slides back in, deliciously filling you up to the brim. your own expressions of pleasure sicken you. and you hate that you are loving it.

hongjoong looks at you through the mirror, soft grunts and gasps escaping his mouth each time he collides with your ass. his hand finds its way to your mouth, shoving two fingers inside while his other one toys with your clit.

"look at you." he says, eyes locked with yours. you're unable to look away. "taking your ex man's cock while you try on wedding dresses for another."

you simply moan, not knowing what to say. it is hot, and painful.

"does your fiancé know you'll be wearing my dress when you walk down the aisle? does he know that the hands that made it have also been on his future wife's body?"

when you don't answer, he hits your ass cheek, causing you to jolt. "no, no! he doesn't! please, please make me cum."

"i'll let you cum. if you tell me one thing." he brings your body close to his again so he can whisper in your ear. his hips stop for a moment.

"anything." you whine.

"is his cock better than mine?"

there is no better. both of them have their ways of pleasuring you, and you enjoy both. you pull away and turn around to face him. you skim over his features, taking in his glowing face due to sweat and body full of scratches from your nails. the nails you are supposed to have for your wedding.

"no." you finally reply.

"that's a good fucking girl."

hongjoong pushes you against the mirror, this time facing you. he holds your legs over his elbows, body hovering above the floor and back pressed against the mirror. he reaches a new angle, and this time, you know you'll burst fast. all you need is a few more strokes.

"cum for me, baby. cream all over my cock."

your nails continue to dig into his back, and your forehead finds comfort against his. you moan into each others mouths, each chasing your own peak and enjoying the noises that the other has to offer. when you finally spill over the edge, you moan louder than ever, hands hopelessly pushing his body against yours for comfort. his pants turn into moans, and hips become sloppy as he also reaches his peak and shoots his load inside you. you feel fuller than ever, hole clenching around his pulsating cock. you help him ride it out, moving your hips as best as you can from this position.

once down from the high, you bring yourself to look at him one more time.

"i'll never see you again after this, will i?" he whispers, lips already missing yours.

"no, hongjoong. our story is over. i'm sorry."

he only smiles, pressing a final kiss to your lips before pulling away. he leaves to get something to clean yourself, leaving you alone in the room.

your reflection stares back at you through the stained mirror, prints of your body clear as day. bruises decorate your body after a long time, and your makeup melts from your face. facing hongjoong was a challenge.

facing san will be an even bigger one.

as if he knew you thought about him, the phone rings inside your purse in the dressing room. you rush over there, fingers eager to press the green button.

"hey, wifey. how's the gown shopping going?"

"it's-" your voice comes out raspy, and you have to cough to get rid of it. "it's going well. i think i finally know what i want." and you don't mean the dress.

"oh, i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to see you in it. “you’ll look stunning. should i pick you up?"

"you don't have to. i'll be there in a few."

"alright, princess. i love you."

"i love you too."

once you hang up, you exit the room and find hongjoong waiting with the towel. his eyes are glossy, but he holds control over the tears this time. "you know i'll always hate you."

you laugh, pain ripping through your heart at the words. "i know."

"good."

he gets on his knees, cleaning you in silence, before whispering something. if you weren't focused on every sound he made, you would've missed it.

"don't forget me."

taglist:

@unholywriters @jjoongstar @arki-sha @dawn-iscozy @slvtiny @maltesejjong @ate-ez @katelins27 @kodzukein @almondmilkeu @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @itza-meee

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely. 

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 

Ravish 

Ravish 

Ravish 

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 

“Patience everyone.” 

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 

He wants them to come at the same time. 

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 

 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 

Good girl. 

Joel is a weak weak man. 

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 

You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 

 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 

“Can—Can you hear me?” 

Her eyes sparkle. 

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 

“Would you laugh if I said no?” 

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  

“Anything that you like, sir?” 

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 

“The heart-shaped ones?” 

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 

“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 

“Yea.” 

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 

Fuck. 

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 

“Harder.” 

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 

“P-Pillow?” 

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 

“Shit, say that again.” 

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 

You hate visiting home. 

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 

JMiller. 

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 

Of course he did, he was perfect. 

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 

“You know what—” 

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 

You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 

“You don’t have—” 

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 

Your rake your brain for answers. 

Why? 

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 

Oh shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

It is him. 

JMiller—J stands for Joel. 

Fuck. 

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Technically you bought it.” 

“Right. . .” 

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask. 

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 

“Ask away.” 

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 

“Is that okay?” 

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

His grin is infectious. 

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 

You found it incredibly charming. 

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 

You gasp, “P-Please.” 

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 

“You really had low expectations, huh?” 

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.” 

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 

You smile, heart fluttering. 

“Me too.” 

[goofyjelly]

I may be a tiiiiiiiiiny teeeeeensie weensie little bit obsessed with a TV show. Again.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

would you make a Klaus fic, where he and reader are under a sex spell? just a sex magic fic, you can decide on the plot🥰

love your fics btw💕

Warning:Dubcon cause sex pollen, talk and use of sex toys, desperate/passionate fucking, needy Hybrid sex, brief realization of Yandere behavior at the end

‘You’re joking!’ I exclaimed, unable to unhear what Bonnie had just told me.

‘No, not at all. We need to keep you away from everyone else because this spell can potentially effect others who come in contact with you. Caroline has already said you can stay in her parents cabin, Damon is taking you there now.’ She shooed me out of the room and outside to Damon’s car.

‘Get in the back!’ He snapped as I moved to slide into the passenger seat. ‘I don’t need this shit effecting me next-‘

‘Why can’t I just stay in the cell in the basement? That way I won’t be alone…I’m scared-‘

‘Because Klaus was hit by that shit too, we don’t know if he knows what it was yet and with how desperate he is for you every other day without being bewitched, I can’t even imagine what he would do with you now.’ He explained as if I were a small stupid child and I wanted to hit him desperately.

A warlock coming after Elena (as always) for Doppelgänger blood for one of his spells had attacked us. I had grabbed a potted plant outside of the Grille and cracked it over his head which gave Elena enough time to run and find Damon, though as he whirled around to me there was suddenly an angry Hybrid standing in front of me which gave the Warlock pause.

Klaus had seemingly taken an interest in me as soon as he arrived in town and while I don’t encourage him, I’m also not cruel or mean either, which seemed to make him think he had a chance.

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small spell bag before dumping some pink powder into his hand and blowing it at the both of us. I couldn’t help but inhale it, only breathing in more when I began choking and hearing Klaus do the same, my eyes and nose burning as I felt his hands holding onto me. Though he was still coughing himself he checked on me (which I found very sweet), hands on my face and inspecting me before brushing the powder off of me leading to me returning the favor. He had no clue what it was and neither did I but after a quick thanks I left to find my friends and a witch to tell me what the fuck I just inhaled.

Turns out we had both been choking on a very powerful potion that people had dubbed “Sex Pollen”. Many witches used to use it several hundred years ago but most stopped once people began insisting that it led to way too many people becoming effected (since all you needed to do was injest a drop) and ending up sexually assaulting whoever came across their path. The potion is typically in a liquid form but talented witches can make it in a powder, however it is about ten times more potent.

‘Stay here, theres food and water, TV, books. Everything you could possibly need. Caroline also bought you some…play things…to help. God this is so gross, they’re in the bedroom. Get out of my car-‘

‘No! How long do I have to stay here?!’ I snapped making him roll his eyes.

‘Bonnie said in the powder form it can take several hours to kick in but it lasts a few days, though with how much you breathed in probably a week at least. Go! Before you infect me too and we really have a problem!’ I grabbed the bag that Elena had packed me and slid out of the car, walking inside and locking the door behind me with a heavy sigh.

‘Fuck All Of You Assholes!’ I screamed, hating my friends for abandoning me just so they wouldn’t suffer as well before I looked around the cabin, finding the bedroom with a large California King that was quite comfortable. I also came across a basket on the bed which contained a rechargeable wand, a 7 inch pink suction cup dildo, a butt plug and a bottle of salted caramel flavored lube. ‘Why The Fuck Was She So Thorough?!’

I set the basket aside and stripped out of my shirt and jeans as I began feeling warm, climbing into the bed under the sheet and deciding to try and take a nap before I get hit with killer horniness.

The nap didn’t last more than an hour before I woke up rolling around restlessly, my body sweating now as a hot feeling in my stomach began intensifying. I couldn’t tell you how long I laid there writhing in misery before I heard a loud knock at the door, instantly hating the world that much more.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I snapped as I finally dragged myself to the front door, moody and uncomfortable which made me unable to be kind.

‘I thought I would come and assist you. Wouldn’t want you suffering through this alone, now would we?’ Klaus asked, looking every bit as put together as always but I could see in his eyes how desperate he was. I could also see his impressive bulge tenting his jeans.

‘How did you find me? I was-never mind. Go away Klaus!’ I groaned, moving to shut the door.

‘I followed Damon, he wasn’t very careful, my guess is he didn’t much care if I found you. They just wanted you away from them before they had to suffer too, your friends that you protected sent you away to save themselves. Seems really selfish to me.’ Any other day I would disagree but with how I was feeling I couldn’t argue with him, prompting me to agree.

‘You’re right…Fuck them! Couldn’t even put me downstairs! Had to leave me all alone!’ I raged as I was overcome by a cramping pain straight down to my pussy causing me to double over.

‘Invite me in Love, let’s help each other? It’s going to be days with only brief hours of relief between…let me help you get some relief?’

‘Klaus, I can’t-‘

‘You want me just as much as I want you, don’t lie!’ He growled, eyes glowing gold now as he showed how desperate he really was, so far gone that he wasn’t able to hide it anymore.

‘It’s just this stupid magic-‘

‘No! No, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you, and you…you need me too.’ His hand reached down to grab his crotch, pupils nearly swallowing his entire eye whole. ‘I can make your pussy feel so good baby, you need me! Who else could go anywhere near as long as a Hybrid, huh?’ He was right, if anyone could help me it was Klaus, especially with how pent up he is himself. ‘Please Y/n? I need to be buried in your little cunt, and you know you need it too! Your fingers can’t help you the way my cock can and I know you’ve dreamt of my cock in your needy little pussy since long before this ever happened-Fuck! I Need You! Please?!’ He begged and as I felt a rush of wetness coat my panties I whined, nodding my head. ‘Say it Y/n…Say It!’

‘Come in Klaus! Please?! I need-‘ I didn’t get to finish my statement before I was tackled to the floor with the Hybrid yanking his pants open and shoving them down enough to free himself before tearing my panties off of my body and shoving himself into me roughly.

‘So Fucking Perfect! Knew your cunt would be perfect! Tightest little cunt-Fuck! Never gonna stop fucking you baby!’

‘Yes! Don’t Stop! Fuck Klaus, your cock! So good!’ Tears leaked from my eyes as he continued thrusting into my body. The sound of skin slapping together echoing through the house and out the front door that hung on one hinge from where the Hybrid had nearly ripped it off as he entered. ‘Oh Fuck!’ I threw my head back against the carpet as my first orgasm rushed through me out of nowhere, only realizing he had finished with me when I felt the hot cum inside of me as he continued thrusting, never once even slowing down.

‘I need to feel you squeeze me again Babygirl, cum for me! Cum for your Alpha!’ The second orgasm was just as strong as the first as I came and felt his body tense up as well before he finally stilled, breathing heavily into my neck.

‘I think…we’re in trouble…’ I panted heavily and he chuckled before looking down at me, hesitating only a second before pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lovely kiss. ‘Don’t stop.’ I insisted when he pulled back, grabbing onto his neck and pressing my lips to his this time as I enjoyed our kiss.

‘This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, I wanted to take you on a date, show you how much I love you…then I was going to fuck you…wanted to make you feel so good you would never leave me again-‘

‘It’s okay, you’ve just done it backwards…you can still take me out, just after this is over because I don’t think people would appreciate you fucking me over our table.’ I teased, enjoying the genuine smile that I got from him, only ever seeing it when he looks at me which has always made me feel special.

‘That’s the spell talking-‘

‘I liked you before that you idiot! I just never really thought you were all that serious.’ I admitted, pushing him up and feeling his (once again) hard cock slide out of me as he helped me stand up.

‘How could you think that? I’ve gone out of my way to show you-your friends told you I was using you, didn’t they?’ I nodded and he huffed a heavy sigh before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a rough kiss. ‘I love you, regardless of any doppelgänger or your awful friends. After all of this I will take you out properly, I promise…but until then-‘

‘No! No more floor fucking, there’s furniture and a bed here for a reason, no more carpet, it hurts.’ I explained, feeling the rug burn against my back and ass.

‘No more rugs, but I need you now.’ He growled, lifting me by my thighs and appearing in the bedroom instantly, dropping me onto the bed. Just as he spread my legs he paused, glancing over to the table and reaching out to grab the basket with the things Caroline had left. ‘What-‘

‘Caroline left them for me. I guess she wanted to help me since I’m all alone.’

‘Interesting…does she know you well, or not?’ He wondered, picking up the butt plug and raising his eyebrows making me blush as my body started sweating.

‘Klaus! Stop the teasing and get inside me! The cramps are starting, so if you’re not going to help me then get the Fuck out and I’ll do it my-Ah!’ I cried out, feeling the rounded end of the plug pressing to my tight hole and rubbing against it. ‘Oh God!’ Klaus took the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto the plug before tossing it to the other side of the bed and pressing it back against my ass.

‘Relax Precious, this is going to make it feel so much better!’ He promised, pushing the plug harder until it popped into my hole. Klaus could feel his cock throbbing even harder at the sight of the jewel on the end of the plug. ‘You are so fucking perfect! How do you fee-‘

‘Klaus! Please?!’ I begged, pulling him closer and yanking at his shirt before getting it off and sighing in relief at the feel of his hot skin against mine.

Klaus shoved his jeans and boxers the rest of the way off, finally naked as well before taking hold of his cock and pushing himself back inside of me. ‘There you are love, feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Both of your slutty little holes stuffed up?’

‘T-Too much-Never-‘

‘Never been so full before, I know Baby! I-Fuck!’ Suddenly as if he could no longer control himself he began thrusting into me frantically. ‘Mine! My Fucking Cunt!’ He snarled, Hybrid visage taking over as he fucked into me so hard I briefly wondered if he could shatter my pelvis like this.

‘Yes! Yours! All yours, don’t stop! Please don’t stop?!’

Y/n couldn’t have said how long Klaus continued like that. How long he thrust into her cunt at a painful speed, how many times the both of them had climaxed together while he still continued to fuck his (somehow still) hard cock into her, she couldn’t even say how many times he had buried his fangs into her throat in an effort to mark her as his like a werewolf marking his mate…and maybe he was. Odds are she was never getting away from him now-not that she wanted to.

It was a week later that Damon finally came back to the house to check on her finding the front door ripped open.

He ventured inside, not hearing anything and figuring that it was over for Y/n and who was inevitably Klaus that had torn the door off the hinges. He was prepared with jokes galore for the the drive back, excited to pick on the young girl for giving into the monster that had been after her for months but sadly he never got to use those jokes.

Damon opened the door to the bedroom to find his girlfriends friend snuggled into Klaus Mikaelson’s naked chest fast asleep. The Hybrid however seemed to have awoken as soon as he turned the doorknob, his yellow eyes finding his with an intensity that he had never seen. He bore his fangs, lifting his head and Damon (one of the only people who had never truly feared Klaus Mikaelson) was instantly terrified. It was like a bucket of ice water dumped on him, alarm bells ringing in his head declaring the danger that he is in prompting him to throw up his hands instantly. As Klaus moved to sit up, the young vampire shut the door promptly and hightailed it back to his car, peeling back down the driveway.

He doesn’t know how long that stuff will take to wear off but it definitely hasn’t yet and he would not be disturbing them again!

Y/n and Klaus were in the house for nearly 2 weeks before they felt as if their bodies were back to normal though they stayed for another week after that. No one could have imagined how close such a spell would bring them…no one except Klaus of course.

The witch he had hired to make that powder had done a wonderful job, money well spent in the Hybrids mind. The spell had worked better than he ever could have imagined and it had gotten him exactly what he wanted.

The only thing left to do was to kill the witch that had helped him and ensure that his mate never learned that he was the one who had dosed her.

He finally had his girl, he couldn’t let something so trivial ruin it.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[magics-neptunes-things]

Girl on Fire

Hi guys!

Here we are for one with Lia, I didn't write for her since ages. It's from that sweet request, and I hope it will please you :)

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of firefighter job, Alcohol, Men (the creepy ones).

The other chapter of the serie "Lia & The Firefighter" is here.

Lia is the sweetest person you ever met. When people learn that you both are dating, they always look so surprised that you found it almost offensive at first. But then you decided that you in fact love the way Lia seeks protection towards you and how she feels in security with you.

You are a firefighter, and you are more than ten centimeters higher than Lia. Because of you work you have to train a lot and you’ve developed a pretty impressive musculature over the years. You have several tattoos spread on different parts of your body and you laughed your heart out when one of Lia’s friends told you that she claimed not to be a fan of tattoo before. You know that Lia loves your tattoos.

You are part of the London Fire Brigade, and you are very proud of it. You aren’t the chief of one of the Brigade, but your place in the team is perfect for you. You sometimes have trouble because you are what your supervisor like to call a hothead, which makes you roll your eyes every time. For you, you are here to save lives and you have to take all the risks for it.

Very early in your relationship with Lia, you found the deal not to tell her which interventions you are working on. She knows when you are working, obviously, but you both realize very quickly that telling her everything is very anxiety-proving, and you obviously don’t want that for her.

You are not living together, but you like finding her at home when your work is finished. She’s your safe place, she doesn’t have to say or do anything special to make you feel good. You just have to be with her, or when she’s away hearing her voice is enough to help you calm down.

You both work great together and you knew really soon in your relationship that you will fall hard for that girl. You were right and here you are, two years, going to her house in St-Albans after your shift. You know that Lia won’t be at home, she went out with some of her teammates in the neighborhood to have fun. But you plan of getting a shower and wait her looking at TV.

You first grab something to eat however, smiling softly at the love note Lia putted on your plate. She putted leftovers in it for you and when you see that it’s one of your favorite meals, you fell in love with her again.

From You Thank you for the leftover Cookie, it was amazing ❤️

From Lia 🧸 With pleasure :) are you waiting for me?

From You I will, but don’t you dare coming home early for me. Enjoy your night, party girl 🔥 I’m going to take a shower anyway

From Lia 🧸 Tease :(

You roll your eyes and send her a kiss emoji before going to the bathroom. Your clothes are respectively around each other’s house, so you put your uniform in the laundry bin without thinking further. The hot water is very welcome to help you wash the day and help your muscles to relax. It was a long day, with stressful interventions. You would have loved to have Lia’s cuddles right now, but she has the right to enjoy her night with her friends.

Another thing you love about Lia, is the way she choses to sleep in oversize t-shirt, who are so big for her that they come down to her knees. She was doing it before you met so you know that she didn’t wear them on purpose, but at least you are able to steal some of her clothes. That’s what you do today, stealing a beige t-shirt that smell like her and will make the job until she comes home.

Before going to the living room to watch TV, you stop in the kitchen to grab a Red Bull that Lia stocks on the fridge for you, even if “It’s an awful drink for your health”. You drink a lot of them, a bad habit maybe, but you hate coffee and that helps you to be focused all day. When you explained that to Lia, she grumbles something in Swiss German but stopped since that day to try to make you stop drinking it.

You watch some stupid TV show while drinking your thing, happy to be able to relax a little bit. You were doing it for twenty minutes when your phone rings and you don’t check the screen because it’s the ringtone reserved for Lia. Which is strange, she’s supposed to come home with Leah.

“Hello?” you frown.

“Am I waking you up?”

You can hear almost immediately that something is wrong, her voice is a little shaky and you stand up instantly without thinking.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… It’s stupid, but there is some creepy guy who tried to hit on Less all night, and he gets drunker every second. She’s safe with us and didn’t want me to call you, but it looks like he’s waiting for her with some of his friends and –“

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t move from where you are, ok?” you cut her.

“Yeah. Ok.”

You met Alessia several times and you like that girl. Not the way you like Lia obviously (you love her in case you haven’t understood), but she’s a friend of your lover. And there is no place in the world where you want your girlfriend not to feel safe, with or without you.

You put a jean and a black hoodie on, before grabbing your keys to jump on your car. Lia shared her location or her phone with you months ago, so you are able to find her very quickly. The club they chose is rather good noted, you have trouble to get inside at first because of your clothes. But when you insist and explain that it was only to get your girlfriend and some of your friends out, they finally let you in. You explained too what was happening and they promised to talk with one of their colleagues to have a better look of the situation.

When you enter, your eyes are like drags like magnets on Lia and you let them get up and down on her, methodically searching for any injuries. But there is nothing and you just have to look at her friends to know that they aren’t hurt either. They just seem uneasy.

Lia must have felt your eyes on her, because she suddenly raises her head in your direction while you are walking to their booth. She gets up and you hug her as soon as you reach her position.

“You alright?” you frown.

The top of her head is at the height of your chin and she has to tilt her head to look at you.

“I’m fine” she nods before turning on the others direction.

There is Alessia obviously, Kyra, Leah and Victoria. The first feels a little bit more uneasy, in purpose. You don’t know how much you impressed Lia’s friends, even when you smile at her like you are doing now.

“Alright Alessia?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you have to come here, I tried to call my brother, but he didn’t answer.”

“No worries. Should we go?”

They all agree, and you share a look with Lia before putting what you hopped will feel like a recomforting hand between Alessia’s shoulders. When Leah proposed to go to her home, they all agree too.

“Will you come too?” Lia pouts, walking next to you and Alessia.

“If you want to” you answer softly, never able to refuse her anything.

She smiles at you, and you lose yourself several seconds in her beautiful eyes, before feeling Alessia tense next to you.

“It’s them” she mumbles.

You look at the direction she shows you with her eyes, just to see four men in their thirties, more average and boring than ever. They look so smug; it makes you want to go knock them. But you don’t, you know Lia hate this kind of behavior. Plus, you are a firefighter, you are supposed to help people. Even if, in your opinion, put something in their head would help them but that’s another story.

You tense when they whistle Leah, but she shows them her middle finger without any thought and you can’t help but smirk. She was walking in front of you with Kyra and Victoria. But when you pass next to them with Lia and Alessia, one of them walk to stop in front of you.

“Well, Alessia Honey? I thought you will come home with me tonight?”

“She’s not going anywhere with you” you answer before Alessia can even react. “Can you push your damn ass away from here so we can leave please?”

Your ton is cold but still polite. You keep your poker face while the man looks at you with a mixture of haughtiness and surprise. You are a little higher than him, only one or two centimeters maybe. But he seems to finally decide that he might be superior or something.

You groan when he tries to grab Alessia’s arm, passing a protective arm in front of her, making her take two steps backward.

“Don’t fucking touch her” you warn, approaching your face of his.

“Oh yeah? And who’s gonna stop me? You?”

He snorts with arrogance, and you take all you have not to punch him. But then he tries to push you, not making you move a little bit. You are smirking when you talk again.

“Watch me.”

Just when you were arming your fist to punch him, someone grab it. You want to extricate your hand from the surprise grip, but you only need half a second to realize that it’s Lia. At the same time, the man who was at the entry and another security guy came to you. Without ceremony, they take Alessia’s creep to make him leave.

“I’m sorry Ma’am” the guy says. “You can enjoy your night now.”

“We were leaving actually. Can you make sur that he’s not waiting for her at the entry?”

“I will, promise. Just give me some minutes yeah?”

You nod and watch him go outside, before turning in Alessia’s direction while your arm itself wraps around Lia’s waist, without you really thinking about it.

“You alright?” you ask her for the second time of the night.

“Yes. Damn I really thought you’ll kill him.”

You are content to smile at her with complicity without saying anything. You would probably have wreck him, to be honest. But Lia is still next to you, and you know how much she hates violence. Even if it’s to protect one of her friends.

When the man comes back to tell you that you can go, you find the three other girls in the street to go to Leah. You learn in the car that Caitlin and Katie will come too, but it doesn’t change anything for you. You like both of them too.

“How did that guy know her name?” you frown towards Alessia when you are walking to Leah’s house.

“I was stupid. I told him, he was really nice at first. I didn’t know things will turn that way” she mumbles, cheeks red.

“It’s not stupid, you don’t have to defend yourself I was just curious. Plus, you couldn’t know he was a psychopath” you pat her shoulder affectionally.

She smiles softly at you and go straight for a drink in Leah’s kitchen. In the living room, Kyra is relating what happened in the nightclub, exaggerating without any embarrassment most of the details of the story. You roll your eyes and just go sit next to Lia, who smiles at you.

“Here is my little terror” Lia coos.

“Stop” you smile shyly, hiding your face in her neck.

Lia laughs and passes her arms around your body. She’s warm and soft, and you are really tired. You melt against her, enjoying happily her stroking on your back. You were almost dozing off when you hear Katie’s voice.

“Can’t believe that teddybear is turning in Hulk outside of Wally’s arms”

“She was scary honestly” Kyra says.

“Fuck you” you grumble in Lia’s neck.

“Someone’s already working on it darling”

You can hear Katie’s smile in her voice, and you just take slightly your face away of Lia’s neck. You just have to look at her with one eye to see that you were right, the playful smile on the Irish girl being present.

You know it’s only a friendly teasing though, you learned to know Lia’s teammates during the last months, and you like them all. With her temper, Katie is maybe the one who is the closest to your character. Except when you’re with Lia, once again.

“Don’t wake the beast again Katie” Kyra laughs.

You throw a pillow at Katie, making her laugh, before turning in Lia’s direction. She’s already looking at you and you put a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You are beautiful tonight” you said softly, even if the attention of the others isn’t on you anymore.

You let your eyes appreciating her outfit and Lia blushes slightly but kiss your cheek anyway.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asks soon after.

You look at her two seconds, hesitating to lie to her before choosing the truth. You shrug anyway, trying to dismiss how much tired you are.

“I am. But I’ll stay, I want to stay with you”

“No, let’s go home, come on.”

Lia stands up without hesitation. You say your goodbyes to anyone, following Lia who you hold her hand, not letting her go until you have to start your car.

“Thanks for coming tonight” Lia says after some minutes.

“Of course. Like I would leave you alone like this” you yawn.

“Was it a long day?”

You throw a quick look at her, just to see her looking at you once again. Sometimes, you know that she would like to know what you have done during the day. But like you said before, it’s not a good idea.

“Yeah. A long day” you mumble.

You don’t say anything else. Car accidents, fire, you never say anything. Even when you come back home with slight injuries. Your thoughts are quickly turned back in reality when Lia kisses your fingers, putting you away of the memories of your day.

You let Lia go take a shower while you change your clothes again and let yourself fall on your stomach on the bed. You must have fall asleep, because what looks several seconds after, a fresh showered Lia is slipping under the sheets beside you. You roll on your side to snuggle against her, closing your eyes almost soon after.

“Love you” you mumble against the skin of her shoulder.

“Love you too, Pookie. Sleep tight.”

You mumble something back, but you are already almost asleep, and you are pretty sure that Lia was not able to understand the slightest word. It doesn’t matter. She has you, you have her and it’s perfect that way.

[georgeclarkesgf]

shush, it's a secret | george clarke

it's not unusual for you to be over at george's flat considering you and him met at university and both moved to london around the same time. but about four months ago, your relationship changed from close friends to just that, a relationship.

you'd both decided to not tell anyone, despite how difficult it was proving to be to not be all over each other 24/7. the fans knew of you, to an extent. you'd appear in the backgrounds of videos or tiktoks posted by the boys. your social media was public, however, none of your accounts included your name, making it less likely for fans to find you.

tonight, you're over at the flat again, legs strewn over george's lap and eating some of the dominoes he'd ordered. a movie chris had picked out plays on the tv, but was now long forgotten about since a debate has broken out amongst the boys. over what? you don't know. you're too focused on the way george's hand is subconsciously trailing up your thigh, dangerously high for a 'close friend'. he honestly hasn't noticed that he's doing it, too engaged in the ongoing debate. so, you pick your phone up from your chest and message him.

too high x

his phone dings and he leans forward, grabbing it off the table before noticing it was from you. you watch as his brows furrow in confusion, before sending him another message.

your hand x

realisation hits george and he squeezes your thigh gently as an apology, moving his hand back down to rest above your knees. he mouths 'sorry' at you, to which you can't help but giggle and shake your head. arthur (hill) looks between you two in slight confusion, going to say something but deciding to keep his mouth shut.

it wasn't that you didn't want to tell people, you'd both just agreed it would be easier figuring things out and adjusting to this shift in dynamic without other people prying their noses in. it didn't make the thrill of getting caught any less exciting though. even the simple things such as him wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder made you get an adrenaline rush.

you can feel your eyes growing heavy, despite it still being relatively early, and decide to call it a night.

"sorry guys but i'm gonna head to bed," an echo of boos fill the room while you shrug, laughing, "i'm tired guys leave me alone. mind if i crash in your bed george?"

it feels weird having to ask your boyfriend if you can sleep in his bed, but it seems to be doing the trick of keeping the relationship a secret. there are only three bedrooms and you've known george the longest, so it makes sense you'd stay in his room.

"no go for it, i probably won't be long." you give him a smile and climb off the sofa, heading to his room.

george's eyes widen when he next checks the time, not realising it was so late.

"shit." he mumbles to himself, gaining a weird look from the boys.

"you alright george?" arthur (hill) questions.

"yea i'm fine. just didn't realise it was so late that's all, got stuff to do tomorrow. i'm gonna go to bed though, night guys." he was lying right through his teeth, he had nothing to do tomorrow.

what george had meant to be ten minutes or so had turned into an hour and a half. arthur (tv) ended up coming over and they'd gotten so caught up in conversation that time seemed to fly by. he knows that you hate falling asleep without him and feels guilt seep into his skin. especially since he knows you won't ask for him to come to bed, not wanting it to come off weird since to the others, you're 'just friends'.

you're staring at the ceiling when he shuts his bedroom door, having fallen asleep for all of twenty minutes before you woke up to an empty bed over an hour ago.

"i'm so sorry baby, i didn't realise it had been that long," you turn to look at him, enjoying the way he starts stroking your cheek with his thumb, "have you been waiting for me?"

"mhm, fell asleep for about twenty minutes and been awake since. it's okay though, kept myself busy," george's jaw drops slightly, clearly misunderstanding your words, "oh my god george, no! i meant by reading some more of my book you perv. get your mind out the gutter."

he laughs and goes in to kiss you but you push his forehead away before he can. you scrunch up your face in disgust.

"ow, what was that for?" he's rubbing his forehead like you just hit him with a bat, making it much more dramatic than necessary.

"brush your teeth, you have pizza breath." he tries to do it again and catch you off guard but fails, "i mean it george."

"yes ma'am."

he disappears into the bathroom and returns a few minutes later. his teeth are brushed and he's wearing a pair of grey joggers. your arms open wide, inviting him to lay on top of you so you can run your nails through his hair and up and down his back. a feeling both of you love.

"can i kiss you now?" he teases, grin widening when you nod your head.

several kisses are planted on your face and you know he's purposefully missing your lips. you frown, wanting him to kiss you properly, not having felt his lips on yours in what felt like years. realistically, it's been a few hours.

"george, kiss me properly." you whine.

and he does just that. one hand holding himself up to hover over you, the other stroking your cheek and bringing you in closer until your lips finally meet. the kiss starts off slow and loving, until he presses you further into the mattress, his hands beginning to roam your body. every ounce of sleep you were feeling disappears, suddenly becoming hyper aware of what's happening.

pulling away, you mumble, "we can't, everyone's here. they'll hear us."

"never stopped us before." george whispers against your mouth, connecting your lips once again.

well touché.

a/n don't ask where the inspiration for this came from at 2 in the morning cause i don't have an answer. not proofread either sorryyy. shall i make a part two? i feel like i'll end up doing it anyway but what do you guys think??

[slasherscream]

i would love to know which of the crazy ass boys gang would indulge a partner who watches reality tv? whose getting just as invested and angry and who is standing to the side saying it’s dumb and fake? (i know it’s kevin)

❥ who grins and bares it so they can bond with you ❥

Billy Loomis - This is just a bonding activity for Billy. It’s not awful. Nor is it the most fun thing in the world. It’s just one of those tiny moments that relationships are built off. The small bids for connection that build intimacy. You don’t bitch when he wants to watch Psycho for the sixth time in two months. He doesn’t bitch when you turn on trashy TV. He pulls you close, so that you’re sitting in his lap, or laid up against him, and pays enough attention to ask you the odd question or two to clarify what’s going on if he gets lost. What do you mean they switch couples?? When did they start doing that? Last week… oh I bet Luca was pissed. 

David Mccall - David is obnoxious because he pretends to be the type who is upset when you watch without him. He’ll come home, glance at the TV and gasp dramatically: Baby! Why are you watching our show without me?! How far along are you? You watched an entire episode? You know better than that, baby! You gotta rewind it, hold on, I’ll order us some pizza. Can’t believe you’d watch behind my back! This is a ridiculous pantomime that you may or may not pick up on. Mileage varies as always. David couldn’t care less about the reality TV shows you watch. But he likes the way you giggle as you rewind it for him. Or the way you light up when you’re discussing it with him. You used to spend way too much time talking with your friends about this stupid crap. Now you talk to him. Who gives a shit about whatever mindless little thing you’re watching. What David enjoys is your undivided attention. 

Jason Dean/JD - JD also sees this as a bonding activity and bid for connection… However, JD is a born hater. He bonds by talking shit. He’s not necessarily trying to be a bummer about the things you enjoy. He’s just a certified yapper when it comes to shit-talking. If he thinks something is stupid he just can’t sit in silence. This is his most underdeveloped life skill. He’s got ten minutes of quiet in him max. If he does manage to bite his tongue his face gives him away anyways. So what was the point? Will say something pretentious like: “Why are we watching people play out a badly scripted version of their lives through a screen when we could be out living ours, right now? Let’s hop on my bike and just ride, darling! Live a little!” Sir, I just worked an eight hour shift. I need to see someone who doesn’t deserve a rose get sent home in tears. Read the room. Get a grip. 

❥ who is pissed off/devastated when you watch it without them ❥

Sebastian Valmont - What can he say? Sebastian likes to watch people experience psychological torment. He’s trying to turn on the first seasons of “America’s Next Top Model" and watch a girl get sent home in tears after the judges convinced her to shave her head bald to look more fierce.This is the type of quality reality TV that makes Sebastian laugh. Watching people go through their darkest moments in front of a camera that highlights the creases in their cheap makeup is how he likes to spend the occasional date night. You had to put him onto reality tv shows, but now he’s hooked. He probably watches more reality TV than you do. If we’re being honest. You think this might be how he gets to still live out his glory days of being an unrepentant asshole. Sometimes he sighs a little too wistfully when someone is being a monster. 

Jordan Li - Jordan enjoys anything you do together. Even if they hate a particular activity, at least they’re spending time with you. Still, there are reality TV shows that Jordan really likes, such as: home improvement shows, “Say Yes to the Dress'', “Face Off”, “American Ninja Warrior”, and “RuPaul's Drag Race”. And then there are shows that Jordan puts on a brave face about. Things like “Love Island” and “Jersey Shore”. Jordan gets queasy just scrolling past them. There was a time before they became one of Brink’s favorites that their parents kept pushing them to try and be an entertainment Supe. No one is taking you that seriously, anyways! Maybe you’ll do better in the reality TV circuit. It’s unlikely Jordan will ever get stuck in projects like that now. They’ve proven they can be a heavy hitter. Proven that they’re strong enough to not need to sell themselves as cheap, easily-digestible, entertainment. Still, they don’t like thinking of the alternate world where they’re having to sit in front of a camera and do twenty retakes of “authentic” confessional room venting.

Stu Macher - He likes reality TV and doesn’t care who knows. Hooray! A shared interest… except watching these shows with him will piss you the fuck off. He has dog-shit opinions about everything. You will never be rooting for the same people. You will never agree on who handled a situation better. He’s always rooting for the asshole, it seems. You don’t even think he’s doing it to be contrary or to make you mad. He’s genuinely on their side (most of the time… he does enjoy making you mad.) Watching reality TV with Stu makes you want to kill him. It also makes you look at him funny. Why are you always siding with the bastards? You don’t think Ekin-Su needed to apologize? Stu, are you out of your fucking mind?

Josh Washington - You’re gonna try to tell me that the twins weren’t making him paint toenails while they pulled all nighters of “The Bachelor”? Sure, okay, if you’d like to believe that. And his inner circle consists of Emily and Jess? Please. He’s been watching trashy TV for years. He’s watched a little of everything. He is so well acquainted with the dark underbelly of reality TV that it would roll over for a tummy rub from him. It knows his scent. He can easily keep track of the names, faces, and plots. Who’s fucking who. Who hates who. Who’s forming secret alliances. You’ll probably be more lost than Josh ever gets. He’s a day one. He’s an OG. 

❥ who is pissed off to even be hearing about it second-hand ❥

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - He has better shit to do than watch reality TV show crap all day, and so do you. These are the kinds of harsh words that will be waiting for you if you try and get him to watch anything fun with you. Ask him one too many times and, like a parent who is annoyed that you are bothering him, he will begin to fill up any moment of free time the two of you have with activities. No, babe, we can’t watch “90 Day Fiance.” Why? Because we’ve got to run the marathon for kids with cancer and then we’ve got dinner with the mayor after that. You two are gonna be booked and busy. You were obviously bored. Now you won’t have time to even think!

Kevin Khatchadourian - Please don’t remind him so blatantly of his own intellectual superiority over you (he’s an asshole.) He gets the ick of the century when you try and tell him what happened during one of your little…programs. If you have the audacity to take it a step further and ask him to watch with you? He’s rendered speechless. Since when is this relationship a safe space? He doesn’t enjoy well-written, heart-stopping, incredible genre-defining movies and television. And yet, somehow, you’re so delusional you think he’s gonna sit through reality television with you? Don’t piss him off. He doesn’t even bother responding. Enjoy the view of his back as he walks away!

❥ secret fourth worse thing ❥

Nathan Prescott - Nathan is once again in a category of his own, which you might call: too nosy to not get into it, but doesn't want you to know he enjoys it. He made fun of you when you first started to watch reality TV. He can’t go back on his word now. If you were cuddling on the couch he’d have his face turned into your stomach and dramatically roll his eyes at your absentminded head rubbing. Could we focus on what’s important please? But then the plots started thickening and the heated exchanges started to pique his interest. He knew he was cooked when he started recognizing names, who was booed up with who… wait that disloyal prick hooked up with who this week?! He tells you to just replay the episode because you’re explaining it shitty and you obviously want him to watch it and talk to you about it. It isn’t for his benefit at all. Turn the subtitles on, god dammit.

A/N: this was really fun! how did you know i've been watching reality TV shows lately?? if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how things should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour. or lack thereof, you suppose — he’s digested far too many curses for his taste buds to remain intact.

or so he says, anyhow.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you.

”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile — one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. getō gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table; studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch. exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense — to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before. beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking any illusion of peace before you can find solace in it. 

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread — any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes and inhales a breath. ”because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 

then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, like this, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine your fingers, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over. 

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down. everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 

(he’s yours, again. and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 

[mialikeshockey]

Luke is your older brother’s friend, and basically Luke has to pick you up from your soccer practice because your parents left out of town and your brother was on a date. Your brother ask Luke to pick you up….thats all I can think of. 🎀😞

girl I got you I got you

Do you know how to ball? - Luke Hughes

I finish doing my last drill for soccer practice. I kick my ball up to my bag and start taking off my shoes to put on my crocs. I grab my phone to see texts from my brother that he got a last minute date with this girl he’s been talking to for I don’t know how long.

I read the texts in my head and called him right away. “Are you kidding me? I’m literally done with practice, what do you mean that you can’t pick me up. Are you really picking a girl over your little sister, you actually are pissing me off.” I state grabbing my bag to start walking home.

“Ana, it was really last minute. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.” My brother states, I go to hang up and I hear his friend, Luke talking. “I’ll pick her up. I have to go by the field anyways.” I sigh and sit down on one of the benches.

“I’ll text you when I’m there Ana.” Luke says and I hang up. I hate when my brother does this, he constantly goes out on dates and forgets me. Not that I can’t drive, it’s just my car has been in the shop a lot due to a lot of things wrong with it.

I sit around for another twenty minutes, just scrolling on Pinterest and snapping people back on Snapchat. I get a text from Luke on Snapchat that he’s here. I stand up and grab my ball and my bag and head to his car.

“Thank you for picking me up, you really didn’t have to, I could’ve walked. Luke takes my bag from me and puts it in the backseat. “Anytime, kinda shitty on what your brother did. I can take you through somewhere if you’re hungry.”

“I don’t have my wallet with me, I left it my room this morning, I’ll be okay.” I pull out my phone and start texting my mom that I’m going home safe from soccer practice. “Don’t worry about it, I got you. Where do you feel like going?”

“Luke you really don’t have to do that, it’s okay. I’ll probably just eat when I get home.” Luke shakes his head. “Subway is right up the corner, what do you want from there and I will go in and get it. Text me your order so I get everything right, you can eat it in the car on your way home.” I smile at Luke. “Thank you.” I text Luke my order has we pull into subway and he walks in and gets my food.

Luke walks out with my food and hands me it. “Eat up beautiful, you look like you had a tiring practice.” I feel butterflies in my stomach as he hands me my food with a smile. His smile is contagious, it’s so perfect in so many different ways.

I eat my subway while Luke lets me play some songs from my playlist until we pull into my driveway. His house only being a couple houses down. “I’ll walk you to the door.” He grabs my bag and follows me to the door. “Thank you for all of this, you really didn’t have to do this.” I smile grabbing my bag from him. “You really don’t have to thank me. I’m always here.” He smiles, about to walk away, I can’t help myself but ask him.

“Can you stay, if you’re not like busy or anything. My parents are out of town and I kinda hate being home alone.” Luke smiles as I let him in the house. “Let me go change.” I state running up the stairs, as Luke sits on the couch. After about ten minutes I come downstairs in some comfortable clothes and I sit next to him on the couch, finishing the subway he bought me. “How good are you at soccer? Have you been playing long?”

I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I’ve always loved it, I guess im good at it but I don’t really have a big ego on it. Why, do you know how to ball, Mr all star hockey player.” Luke giggles, “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” I ask him, he shakes his head and I turn on the tv and look through some movies until we agree on something.

Maybe my brother going out tonight wasn’t so bad after all.

——

credit to gif maker