Tumgik
#Michael Gambino
badmovieihave · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Bad movie I have Dexter: The Fifth Season 2010
2 notes · View notes
admireforever · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2024)
232 notes · View notes
fedearielsgraphics · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Music videos as film posters - Spooky Month edition
145 notes · View notes
shakirachyanne · 4 months
Text
Song: Heartbeat- Childish Gambino
Show: Good Omens
30 notes · View notes
basinbabygirl · 4 months
Text
Men I’d let hit: Donald glover, Matthew gray gubler, Thomas Gibson, Tom holland, Andrew Garfield, Michael b Jordan, timothee chalamet
24 notes · View notes
he11swinter · 3 months
Note
Billy and Royce getting tight gambling by Jimmy, whitch would get them in trouble with the moms (Margaret and Jene)
I knew Jimmy had to be a dangerous ghost somehow…
and that’s it…
HE’S A BAD INFLUENCE!
What does one even gamble in the glass house, anyway? Cyrus’ things? Each others’ souls!?
16 notes · View notes
soulrepertoire · 23 days
Text
“My nigga just told me, "You trippin' for thinkin' of callin' quits”…
10 notes · View notes
pikablu410 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Just because summer is about to end doesn't mean these big boys aren't going to enjoy themselves!
I've got three more summer pigs I'll post tomorrow! Who do you want to be the fourth?
74 notes · View notes
bookmaven · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
LORD OF LIGHT by Roger Zelazny (New York: Doubleday, 1967) Cover by Howard Bernstein.
LORD OF LIGHT was awarded the 1968 Hugo Award for Best Novel, and nominated for a Nebula Award in the same category. Two chapters from the novel were published as novelettes in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction – "Dawn" in April 1967, and "Death and the Executioner" in June 1967.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction (New York: 1967) Cover by Grey Morrow • (New York: Avon, 1969) Cover by Ron Walotsky.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(London: Panther, 1971) Cover by Michael Johnson. • (London: Panther, 1973) Cover by Bob Haberfield
Tumblr media Tumblr media
• (London: Methuen, 1986) Cover by John Harris. • (London: Gollalncz, 1999) Cover by Fred Gambino
Tumblr media Tumblr media
. • (New York: HarperCollins, 2004) Cover by Steve Stones. • (China: Beijing Publishing, 2015)
14 notes · View notes
ask-sebastian · 11 months
Note
think of fast and furious but all women
I'd watch that film.
9 notes · View notes
gastricotv · 2 months
Text
PONLE PLAY | 2024 - 020
Tumblr media
youtube
0 notes
admireforever · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2024)
114 notes · View notes
vyrotek · 10 months
Text
youtube
0 notes
qadirvyrotek · 10 months
Text
youtube
0 notes
killerlookz · 3 months
Text
Heartbeat | Joost Klein
Tumblr media
description: Joost Klein x f! reader- In the months following reader and Joost's breakup, neither of you seem to be able to get rid of each other, not even when you've supposedly "moved on" to other people. (heavily inspired by the narrative in Heartbeat by Childish Gambino)
content: 18+ NSFW, cheating, toxic relationships, arguing, angst, some comfort?cigarettes, alcohol, questionable morals, just some mess mess messy stuff, semi-public "suggestive" behavior, fingering, unprotected PiV. This work contains RPF, and has been tagged as such do not click forward if that upsets you and do not share my work to other sites.
word count: 7634
Tumblr media
An unlit cigarette hangs from your sticky, freshly glossed lips, your hands racing to tie the slippery satin ties of your dressing robe. A knock at the door draws you from where you stand in front of your bathroom to the front door. You flip over the locks before carefully turning the doorknob to open it.
A tiny smile forms on your lips as the door opens, revealing your boyfriend, staring down at you. Michael, a man nearly a decade your senior, eight and a half years older than you to be exact, a handsome business-type man who had moved to the Netherlands for work from the States, Boston specifically, though, he didn't have the accent. The pair of you had been casually dating for nearly four months now, though, you could sense that at any moment he'd ask to take things in a more serious direction.
You quickly remove the cigarette from your lips, balancing it between two fingers as you speak,
"Hi!" Your voice expressing greater enthusiasm than you were actually feeling, "You're early." You grit your teeth through the grin that spreads across your face, "I thought you weren't supposed to be coming for another hour."
"Good to see you too," He smiles back, but you can sense a hint of patronization in his words, "I figured, it was already getting kind of late, and I didn't see a problem with heading out a little early. I texted you anyways, but you never responded."
You nod, remembering that you had purposefully left your phone in the kitchen to rid yourself of any distractions while you were getting ready. While you suppose it was nice of him to let you know he'd becoming early, it would have been nicer if he asked first instead of just doing.
"Getting late," You force a fake chuckle, one that turns out more like a scoff, "The sun has barely set, who wants to go to the bar when it's still light outside?"
"Not everyone enjoys staying out until the crack of dawn." He raises his eyebrows, his voice serious in a way that makes you uneasy.
"It's Saturday!" You beam, "Come on, let loose a little." Michael wasn't exactly the party type- at least not now, it had taken a whole lot of convincing to even get him to go out with you and your friends tonight. "We're still going to have to wait anyways," you shrug, opening the door wider to allow him inside, "Julia won't be here for at least an hour, but you know her and being on time." You giggle awkwardly, unsure of what the two of you would do to fill the time while you finished getting ready.
"Right," He shakes his head before his brows furrow, "What's all over your face?"
Your facial expression contorts, confused, "Uh- makeup?"
"Oh pumpkin," He sighs, his voice like saccharin, exceptionally sweet and unimaginably fake. The pet name makes your stomach curdle, and you attempt to press a smile to your lips to hide the way you cringe, "I thought we talked about how I prefer to see you naturally."
You giggle, stunned at the fact he was bringing up this argument again, one you had had far too many times for how short of a while you had been seeing each other, "And I thought we talked about how much I hate it when you call me pumpkin."
"I just don't think you look any better with all that shit on your face, is it wrong of me to think that my girlfriend is beautiful?" There's an argumentative tone in the way he speaks, but you can't even focus on the potential fight that is brewing, not when the word girlfriend is ringing in your ears.
"No," You sigh, not wanting to argue not now, all the energy being knocked out of you with that simple word, "Do you want something to drink while I finish getting ready?"
"Yeah," He lets out a breath, slightly annoyed, "Yeah- sure what do you have?" He lets his tone return back to normal.
"Depends," You step backward, away from the man, towards the small kitchen of your apartment "Do you want something alcoholic or..." You trail off, stepping all the way into the kitchen.
Michael's eyes linger on you as he scratches at the back of his neck, "That's fine." He shakes his head, "Just get me a beer or something."
You nod, opening up the fridge, scowering around, unsure if you even had a beer in there. After pushing some things around, you'd found a singular bottle, you push your arm further into the cold to grab it.
You retreat back to the warmth of the rest of your kitchen, beer bottle in hand, as you kick it closed, both hands now preoccupied as the unlit cigarette still rests between your fingers. Wordlessly, you place the bottle on the kitchen counter in front of where Michael is now sitting before stepping back to search for a bottle opener.
From the corner of your eye you can see your phone light up, resting right where you had left it on the counter before you had begun to get ready. Thinking perhaps Julia was letting you know she was on her way or even worse that she was here now, you quickly shuffle over to it
Upon looking down at the screen you quickly realize it is not Julia who had texted you or any of your other friends who you had intended on seeing tonight.
Joost: It's been a while, what are you doing tonight? Come over?
The simple messages nearly make you choke on your breath as your eyes quickly flick up toward Michael. Joost was just about Michael's complete opposite- he was something exciting, the type of person where you could never guess their next move, no routine, no planning, no nothing- just go go go. Perhaps that discrepancy could be attributed to the fact that, unlike Michael, Joost had only been older than you by a year, his 24th birthday approaching in the fall. Still, even at Joost's age, you couldn't imagine Michael being much fun.
Unfortunately for you, you had let yourself indulge in the excitement that Joost brought to your life in entirely self-destructive ways. Joost had been one of the first people you had met when you moved to the Netherlands, and things moved quick between the two of you, from the moment you met it had felt like you had known him your whole life. Within a few months of living in a brand new country, you had already found yourself with a boyfriend, having rushed way too quickly into a relationship with Joost, and you quickly learned that no matter how much it had felt like you two had known each other your whole lives, the truth was you didn't really know him.
It was a true whirlwind romance, taking your life by storm, every moment consumed by each other. You both had fallen hard and fast. But for as hard as you had fallen, you crashed much harder. Joost was a perfect boyfriend in every area except for the ones that really mattered. It was obvious how completely in love with you he was, he was soft, and romantic, and fucked you in ways that made you feel things you didn't even know were possible.
But for all of his good, for all of his sweet gestures and affection, he couldn't seem to crack the communication thing. At first, you didn't mind when he skirted around the little issues that arose between the two of you, you knew he had things rough growing up and so you gave him grace, figuring opening up to people and dealing with certain emotions was probably difficult for him. But soon enough the "little issues" were not so little, turning into large, glaring problems in your relationship that no matter how hard you had pleaded for him to, Joost would refuse to discuss. Eventually, it had gotten too much, the two of you constantly at each other's throats, and with Joost icing you out whenever things got rough, you had had enough.
Still, you don't get rid of feelings like that so easily, and for the life of you, you could just not stay away from Joost. As hard as you tried to, you had never actually stopped seeing him despite the fact how much things had changed, things weren't quite so sweet and romantic anymore, but to be honest with yourself, if he fucked you good while the two of you were in love, he fucks you 10 times better when you hate each other's guts.
But maybe hate is too strong of a word, oddly enough feeling bad for Joost when you decide you're not going to respond to his text. At some point in the week, you had made the decision that with how imminent a serious relationship with Michael felt, it was probably high time for you to stop hooking up with your ex-boyfriend. It wasn't exactly a decision you were planning on alerting said ex-boyfriend of, no- that made it real, if you were to tell him you never wanted to see him again, it would become real, you were never going to see him again. Ghosting him seemed like the better option, simply leaving things open-ended, it at least allowed for you to change your mind- which you were deadset on not doing.
Michael's voice takes you out of your thoughts, quickly swiping away the message and turning your phone over.
"Hmm?" You hum, looking up, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.
"A bottle opener?" He points to the cap of the drink you had set down in front of him. You throw a smile onto your face, nodding incessantly,
"Right!" You search through a drawer for a bottle opener before pushing it across the counter towards Michael. You continue to ruffle through the crowded junk drawer, looking for a lighter with no such luck. Feeling far too lazy to go rifle through your purse to find one, with the cigarette still in hand you walk over to the stove, turning the burner to its lowest setting, just enough for a small flame to erupt. Carefully, pinching the cigarette by its very end, you quickly stick it in the small flame, allowing it to light.
You shut the burner off, placing the cigarette to your lips, inhaling, allowing your lungs to fill with the warm, prickly smoke.
"Do you really need to do that in here?" Michael asks, his face forming into a scowl, "Or at all."
You turn to the side to exhale, careful not to blow the smoke in Michael's direction no matter how bad you want to.
"Relax," You smile, "The windows are open."
"Are you even allowed to smoke in here?"
"What are you, my landlord?" You furrow your eyebrows, taking another drag, "One cigarette won't get me kicked out."
"Can't say I'm enjoying your little miss attitude act tonight."
You're not in the mood to argue, simply sighing and forcing an apologetic look on your face, though you had felt like there was nothing to apologize for.
"Sorry," You mumble, "Let me just go finish getting ready."
Tumblr media
The area that surrounds you is noisy, alive with all that the city's nightlife has to offer, almost overwhelmingly so. You lean against a wall, observing the swarm of people that inhabit the bar.
"You know," Your friend, Julia, pipes up from beside you, "You really shouldn't let him talk to you like that."
You bite at the insides of your cheeks, replaying the conversation shared between you and Michael just before entering the bar.
Stepping out of the car, your skirt had gotten pulled up quite a bit from having been sitting, your underwear almost on display as you climbed out of the backseat.
"Jesus," Michael scolded as he followed you out of the car, "Who are you showing off for?"
"Huh?" You whipped your head around, trying to ascertain if you had actually heard him right.
Michael leans over, his voice rough as he speaks into your ear,
"Pull your fucking skirt down, you look like you should be standing in the windows in De Wallen."
You clench your jaw, eyes flicking to Julia who was walking around the other side of the car, she shakes her head disapprovingly.
"What's so wrong with that? I'm sure the women in De Wallen are lovely ladies."
"I don't care how lovely they might be, I don't want my girlfriend walking around looking like a hooker."
You sigh, you know Julia is right, Michael was out of line, as he usually was. You stare the man down from where he stands by the bar, looking to squeeze in amongst the crowd that surrounds it in to order some drinks. Your face involuntarily twists into a grimace as you watch him pathetically try and fail to get the attention of the bartender. You want to go home.
"I just don't know why you keep him around." She shrugs, "I mean, I know he's got money and all, but I don't think it makes up for the fact that he has got to be the most stuck-up, grumpy man I have ever met in my life- seriously he's thirty, not seventy-five."
"I don't know," You furrow your eyebrows, "I guess he's stable and stuff- or whatever, you know?"
"Michael? Stable? The man that not thirty minutes ago all but called you a prostitute because your skirt got pulled up."
"I mean stable like he has a good job and stuff, he's normal, regimented, life with him has a routine- I think I need that, maybe he'll mellow me out, I don't know."
"Don't be ridiculous, you're far too young to be mellowed out," Julia pouts, "I mean, really, the party is just getting started for you." Julia's eyes suddenly widen, her lips parting as she speaks cautiously, "Speaking of party..."
"What?" Your eyes widen too, confused, you quickly whip your head around to look in the direction she's staring off in, "Shit." You mutter as your eyes meet the door, and there he is, Joost fucking Klein followed by a group of what looked to be about 5 of his friends. You barely manage to inhale, "I need a fucking cigarette."
Without looking back at Julia, you're making your way to the door, praying that neither Joost nor his friends see you on the way out.
The summer air hits you as you step through the exit onto the bustling city street. You wondered how mad everyone would be at you if you decided to leave right now- bail without a word, run home, and spend the night alone.
You grab at the purse that sits over your shoulder, pulling it down your arm so you can rummage through it, looking for your cigarettes and a lighter.
You flip open the cardboard box, removing a single cigarette, putting it between your lips before reaching back into your purse to fetch your lighter.
You flick the jagged metal of the lighter, the grooves digging into your thumb as you light the end of your cigarette. You toss the lighter back into your purse before slinging the bag back over your shoulder.
You're able to get a few drags in before you're interrupted by a voice, one that immediately makes your stomach sink.
"Ignoring me now, are we?" You don't even have to look, you already know- you'd recognize that voice anywhere, it's Joost.
You whip your head to the side, confirming your suspicions, seeing the slender frame of your ex-boyfriend hanging just outside the entrance of the bar.
"Stalking me now, are we?" You respond, hoping the snark in your voice masks everything else you are feeling.
"I'd hardly call showing up to the same bar stalking," He smirks, walking toward you, "But I mean- if you're into that sort of thing we can pretend I was."
You roll your eyes, taking a long drag of your cigarette, hoping for some sort of head rush from the nicotine.
Joost's features come better into focus as he nears closer to you, messy blonde hair spilling over his forehead, falling into his eyes, a piercing blue as he stares into you, a smirk lingering on his soft pink lips.
"Can I get a smoke?" He asks, innocently enough. You want to say no, so desperately you want to tell him to go away, to leave you alone, that you need to start a life without him.
"Oh-yeah, sure." A sheepish smile crosses your face, your words betraying you, unable to force out any sort of rejection towards him.
You let your already lit cigarette rest between your lips, taking your purse off your shoulders again, grabbing the cigarettes and lighter once more. You shove your hand, presenting the objects to Joost for him to take, his fingers carefully grazing the back of your hand as he does, his touch lingering on you for just a little too long as the two of you stare each other down. Shivers run down your spine, and your chest suddenly becomes tight, he was completely gorgeous- damn him.
"You okay?" He raises an eyebrow, a chuckle falling from his lips, he's not really asking sincerely. You can only hum in response, not wanting to say too much. Things were not usually this awkward between the two of you, and you could feel that you were the one causing it.
You watch intently as Joost lights his cigarette before pushing the pack into his pocket, and you make a mental note to yourself to get them back from him before you go back inside.
"So," He starts, exhaling a plume of grey smoke, "My place or yours tonight?"
"I'm going to my place, and you are going to yours." You respond, forcefully, annoyed at his insinuation that you would be sleeping with him tonight.
"Is that so?" He responds challengingly, his eyes lighting up.
"Yes." You nod, having none of his banter, "And-" You cut yourself off, debating if you even want to say what is about to come out of your mouth next. "I think we should stop this. Us, we need to stop."
"I've heard that one before," Joost chuckles.
"I'm being serious." You let your head fall to the side, "I can't keep seeing you."
Joost's face suddenly drops, understanding the weight of your words,
"What changed?" He scoffs, bewildered at your spontaneous proclamation, "Because if I recall correctly, just last week you were begging for me to come over."
"It's not fair to Michael," You shake your head, "I need to move on, we need to move on."
A grimace forms on Joost's face,
"You want to pull the good girlfriend act now?" His eyes widen, "As if cutting things off now will erase the past-what-four months?"
"I don't want to argue with you about this, Joost," You bite your lip, realizing just how unprepared you really were to cut things off with him, "I know I can't erase what happened, but I'd at least like to try to be better." Your lip quivers, and you clench your jaw, eyes fluttering as you fight back tears. You don't want to give him the chance to reply, you know with the right words he'd be able to talk you right back into bed with him, you can't let that happen.
You let your cigarette fall from your fingers, crushing it into the ground with the heel of your shoe.
"I'm sorry," You mutter, refusing to make eye contact with Joost as you brush past him, rushing back inside.
Tumblr media
It was a miracle you had stayed out this late with everything that had occurred tonight, but there you were, still standing at the bar as the clock neared midnight, a feigned half-drunk smile pressed to your lips as you stared at Michael.
You tried to ignore the way Joost's eyes burned into you from across the room, but no matter what you did you could feel he was there, ever-present.
"What do you say to another round?" Julia smirks, leaning over the bar.
"Fine by me." You grin, anything to make tonight more bearable.
"Nuh-uh," Michael shakes his head, "You're cut off." He points directly at you, his finger almost in your face.
"What?" You laugh, caught off guard by his sudden controlling-ness
"You, you're cut off, you've had too much."
You furrow your eyebrows, you're not completely coherent, but you're absolutely nowhere near blackout.
"I had four drinks," You continue to giggle awkwardly, "Are you joking?"
His face stays stiff, he's serious.
"I don't think that's really your call to make." A smile lingers on your face as you attempt to keep the conversation light-hearted, but you can feel some sort of anger bubbling inside you.
"It is when I'm the one who's going to have to take care of you."
"It's one more drink, I think I'll be okay."
"Sure, one drink, which turns into two, and then three... you don't know how to control yourself, which is why I'm cutting you off." His voice begins to rise, and your eyes dart around the room anxiously, you hope the noise of the bar can drown out the argument that is brewing.
"I don't know how to control myself?" You scoff, "Is that really what you think of me?"
"You haven't exactly proven me any different, I've seen you, I know how you get on nights out, God forbid I don't want to have to deal with you sloppy and belligerent for the rest of the night." His words become harsher sounding, and more pointed as he continues to speak.
"What do you mean 'how I get'? I barely go out anymore because you don't like it, I would just like to let loose a little for once." You begin to match his tone, unable to hide your growing frustration.
"And you should thank me for that," His eyes narrow, "You don't need to be running around partying every weekend, acting like a complete fucking mess."
You clench your jaw, face forming a scowl, you can't believe the words leaving Michael's mouth right now,
"Don't curse at me." You mutter.
"No, I'll say whatever the fuck I want to, and maybe you should show me some respect for once, and listen."
"Oh!" You respond, a little too loud, drawing a few glances from the people who surround you, "You want to talk about respect? That's rich coming from the man who doesn't seem to respect any of my personal decisions, not the way I do my makeup, or how I dress, or when I want to go out, last time I checked, constantly berating your girlfriend isn't exactly respectful."
"Get a grip, y/n," He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, no shit I don't want my girlfriend parading herself around like some sort of fucking tramp."
It takes everything in you to not escalate things further, to not tell him what you had been doing behind his back, if he thought you were a tramp, oh you could show him tramp.
You inhale deeply, deciding to cut the conversation short before you say something you'll regret,
"I don't need this." You exhale, turn around, and head for the door.
The air is cooler than before when you step outside, now that it is later into the night. Immediately you're pulling your purse down your arm, desperately sifting around for your cigarettes, needing something anything to calm you down. Your mind races as your hand combs through your bag, unable to think straight, your mind foggy from all the arguing and the alcohol.
"Fuck," You mutter, Joost, he had your cigarettes. You run a hand through your hair, pulling at the strands, tonight had been a complete disaster.
"Looking for something." A teasing voice calls, resulting in a groan from you, it was like Joost had a sixth sense for when you thought about him, always showing up as soon as he crossed your mind.
"Can you just give them to me?" Exasperation heavy in your voice, wanting nothing more than to just have a smoke, and go home.
"What happened in there?" He asks, entirely ignoring your question.
"It's nothing," You shake your head, "Can I just have my cigarettes back so I can leave."
"Didn't look like nothing." He continues.
"Well, it was," You snap, your voice getting a little too loud for your own comfort, "I'm fine. Please, Joost just give me th-"
"You don't need to lie," He cuts you off, "You know you can tell me."
"It just," You pause, lifting your head to look Joost in the eyes, "It just doesn't concern you."
"But it concerns you," His voice suddenly much softer, "So I want to know."
A small smile tugs at your lips, despite everything you were feeling, your heart is slightly warmed at Joost's interest in what had happened.
"Stupid argument," You shake your head, looking back down at the ground, "That's all."
"Seems like every time you tell me about Michael it's about an argument you guys have had."
"Well, gloating about how great of a boyfriend I have doesn't exactly make for good conversation when I'm with the person I'm cheating on him with."
"Well, do you? Have a great boyfriend?" He pushes, but the two of you both know the answer. You bite the inside of your cheeks, bringing your gaze back up to Joost, who seems to be standing much closer to you now.
Your breathing starts to tremble under his intense gaze, the smell of his cologne is suddenly strong in your nose, nearly choking you. He's expecting an answer. But you can't give him one, you can't tell Joost that you didn't have a great boyfriend mere hours after telling Joost you didn't want to see him anymore because of said not-great boyfriend.
"Look," He sighs, "I know I wasn't the best, so maybe I can't talk, but Michael is just a straight-up dick."
His bluntness earns a small chuckle from you, he wasn't wrong.
"Well, I haven't exactly been the world's best girlfriend either." You shrug, any problem with Michael seemed incomparable to the fact that at the end of the day, you were the one cheating.
"You were to me." His tone contained a romance that you hadn't heard from him in a long time.
"Joost-" You choke, your eyes widening, unsure of where he was heading with this now. How were you ever going to get over him when he constantly crossed all the wires in your brain.
You feel your body go numb as he slides his hand to your waist, you should stop him, keep your promise, and never see him again- but you can't, and most importantly, you don't want to.
"Look, I'm not insinuating anything, if you don't want to see me anymore, that's okay, you don't owe me anything not after what you put up with, with me, but what I am saying, is you do owe it to yourself, to find someone who treats you better." His words are genuine, heartfelt, and he almost feels like the Joost you once knew, the Joost from when you two had first met.
There's nothing you can say in response, instead, you push yourself up on your toes, letting your lips meet Joost's in a soft kiss. Joost wastes no time in kissing you back, his hand now gripping your waist. Something feels different with this kiss, no looming sense of guilt hovering over you, it feels right like it's what you should be doing.
You part your lips, deepening the kiss, a small groan escaping you as you feel Joost's tongue brush past yours. Your movements become sloppy, lips lazily working against each other, each kiss filled with increasingly more passion.
Stunned, Joost pulls back from the kiss, a smile on his lips, now shiny from your lipgloss, "So," He breathes, "My place or yours?" It was exactly as you had thought, so easily, Joost was able to talk you back into bed with him.
"Mines closer." You shrug, your voice suddenly timid as you reach a thumb to Joost's lips, rubbing the traces of your lipliner off of them.
The car ride home feels like years, as the vehicle crawls down the city streets you figure you have probably gotten the slowest Uber driver in the entirety of Europe.
You sit in the middle seat, your arm brushing against Joost's, the proximity is comforting, but not quite enough, you want nothing more than to be all over him.
You trail a finger to the buckle of Joost's belt, lazily tracing over the letters engraved into the metal, Albino. The sudden remembrance of Joost's proximity to fame, even if only in the Netherlands, draws a smirk on your face as you think about all the horny fangirls who would probably die to be in your position now.
"What are you doing?" Joost asks, his words slow, teasing.
"Nothing," Feigned innocence in your voice as you let your palm rest just below the buckle of his belt. Joost clenches his jaw as you let your hand trail a little lower, pressing into the fabric of his jeans, his already-defined cheekbones poking out even farther with the way his muscles strain.
"You're going to kill me, you know that?" Joost's eyebrows raise, a smile pressed to his lips. He reaches a hand behind your head, first gripping at your hair before relaxing his fingers, soothingly scratching at the back of your head.
A hum of content vibrates through your lips, satisfied at what amount of power you had over him, even if it wasn't much.
You continue to press the heel of your palm against Joost's jeans, feeling the way they tighten as he begins to stiffen beneath you. Joost sucks in a breath, his free hand moving to rest on top of yours, he grips your fingers, pulling you off of him.
"You didn't like that?" You pout.
"Does it look like I didn't like it?" He grits his teeth. Your eyes wander down his figure, focusing on his lap, a now more prominent bulge in his jeans.
The car suddenly comes to a halt, forcing your gaze to the window- you were home, and now you're scrambling out of the car, unable to wait any longer to get your hands on Joost.
Joost pops his head back in the car for just a moment more,
"Dankje, fijne avond!" (Thanks, goodnight) He says quickly to the driver as you pull at his arm from outside the car, impatient. "God, woman," He chuckles, shutting the car door behind him, "I'm here!"
The climb up the three stories to get to your apartment is intermittent with sloppy kisses and lingering touches. As much as you desire to get to the privacy of your apartment, you can't keep yourself off of Joost, your hips pressed into his he has you pushed against a wall surrounding the staircase, his lips trailing down your neck, surely leaving little marks you wouldn't be able to explain away.
You card your hands through his hair, gripping at the messy blonde strands,
"Joost, please," A strained whisper crawls up your throat, your hips sputtering forward, begging for some friction, "My apartment."
Joost drops his hand from where it sits against your waist, grabbing your hand, and pulling you the rest of the way up the steps.
Anxious hands fumble with your keys as you try to push them into the lock of your door, a breath of relief as you hear the satisfying click of the correct key slotting perfectly into the small space.
Before you know it, you're pushed up against the back of the door, Joost's hands pinned on either side of you, caging you in with his body. Your own hands wander Joost's body, pulling at his shirt, gripping tightly to pull him closer as your lips collide. The way you kiss is rough, animalistic like you're completely starved for him.
Joost shoves a thigh between your legs, the rough denim of his jeans now brushing against the crotch of your panties. You can't help yourself, bucking your hips forward to push yourself further against his thigh. A small sigh leaves your lips as your cunt brushes against him, suddenly feeling your arousal, your movements made slippery.
Joost's hands make their way to your hips, his touch lingering as they slide to your thighs, grabbing at the hem of your skirt, and pulling it up. He drops his leg from where it's positioned between your thighs, his large, tattooed hand now cupping your heat. He presses the heel of his palm into your crotch, rubbing harshly through the flimsy fabric of your panties. His movements send jolts of electricity through your body, only making you crave him more as your arousal pools.
His fingertips push at your slit over what little clothes separate the two of you, teasing what you really want.
"Liefje," He smirks, pulling away from the kiss, "So wet for me I can feel it through your panties."
Your face grows hot, slightly ashamed at how quick you had become so aroused. Joost's fingers find themselves brushing at the seams of your underwear, hooking into the fabric ever-so-slightly. Your body grows tense as he teases you, his position making it seem like he's about to pull the delicate lace to the side, but he doesn't, his fingers, unmoving as he kisses at your jaw.
You can't take it, feeling so pent up that you might just explode, you knock Joost's hand from where it sits between your legs, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side yourself before pushing your fingers to your clit. You rub small circles to the delicate nerves, gasps leaving your mouth as pleasure rushes through you. You let your fingers dip lower, collecting your arousal on your fingers as they glide through your folds, towards your aching entrance.
Joost finally clocks what you're doing, his lips leaving your jaw, his hand reaching down to cover yours.
"So impatient," He purrs, his breath hot against your neck, reminding you of your proximity, "Here, let me help you."
With his own hand, Joost guides your fingers up and down your soaked pussy, before completely taking the work over himself, your hand now resting at your side as he continues.
With a single finger, he teases your hole, rubbing around it, threatening to dip his fingers in, you shove your hips forward, silently begging for it. He gets the memo, as much as he loves to feel you squirm below him, he loves pleasuring you so much more.
Before long he's pushing a second finger into you, a groan leaving your lips at the way you stretch around him. His thumb taps at your clit, sending extra pangs of pleasure through your body. You can do nothing but lean your head against the door behind you, lips parted with your jaw slack, in complete awe of how good Joost could make you feel with simply just his fingers. He knew his way around your body even better than you knew yourself, able to draw you to an orgasm much quicker than when you went solo. He knew just where to press, just where to rub to make you whine, and stutter filthy curses.
"What was that about never wanting to see me again?" He coos into your ear, and you pick up an almost wickedness in his voice.
"Fuck you," You sputter, voice strained from the magic his fingers are working against your cunt.
"Yeah," Joost sighs, "I'd bet you'd like to."
He's right, absolutely, completely right, and you're melting below him, turning to mush under his touch.
"Lucky for you, I'd love to fuck you too," He removes his fingers from your cunt, "And I don't think I can wait much longer."
Your pussy is left throbbing, feeling your heavy pulse between your thighs as you clench around nothing, aching from the lack of stimulation. Joost presses two fingers to his lips, shiny from your slick, enveloping them with his mouth, moaning slightly at the taste of you on his tongue.
"So good," He mumbles as he pops his fingers from his mouth, "Now, c'mon." He's grabbing you by your wrist, pulling you to your bedroom.
You nearly stumble onto your bed, leaning face first on the edge of the mattress while your feet still rest on the ground below you, ass up.
Joost stands behind you, his hips pressed into your ass. You whine as his stiff cock brushes against your exposed cunt through the thick denim of his jeans. You can feel the cool metal of his belt buckle press into you as he leans forward, hands trailing up your torso as he kisses your shoulder blades.
You arch your back farther, looking for some friction, desperately trying to grind your cunt against him. Joost's hands linger on your body as he lets you search for some relief, helping you just a little by bucking his hips ever so slightly. He gropes at your tits, hands crawling into your shirt to get a better feel. He pinches the pebbled surface of your hardened nipples, making you squeal, his breath tickles your neck as he chuckles at your reaction.
Soon enough he removes his hands from you, and his hips no longer press into your thighs. You're impatient as you hear the clinging of his belt buckle. your pussy instinctively clenching as the sound meets your ears like you've been trained to know what's next. You hear a small sigh leave Joost's mouth followed by what sounds like him pulling his pants down, the belt once again clinging as it hits the floor. You peek behind you, biting your lip as you marvel at the sight before your eyes, Joost, naked from the waist down, his cock hard, tip throbbing an angry shade of red. He's gripping the bottom of his shirt, exposing the trail of blonde hair that leads to his pubic area. His shirt comes all the way off, leaving him entirely undressed behind you.
"See something you like, hm?" He asks, teasingly, noticing the way you stare at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
You can't even respond, not as he walks closer to you, your brain dizzy with the knowledge of what is about to come next. You return your gaze forward as Joost's hands find their way to your hips, fingertips gripping your flesh. You gasp as you feel the tip of his cock brush against your folds. You have to fight the urge to instinctively push back against him.
Joost continues to grind the shaft of his cock against your cunt, collecting your slick around its length. He pulls back a little, letting the head tease your entrance, about to push in before he stops himself,
"Wait." He breathes, "Turn around."
Slowly, you flip over, back pressed into the mattress while your legs still dangle off the sides. Joost nods, content as he steps between your legs.
"Take your shirt off, let me see those pretty tits." You obey, pulling the top over your head, suddenly very exposed as you had decided to forego a bra tonight. Goosebumps litter your skin as Joost slowly lowers onto his knees, he's quick about his movements, not taking time to linger or tease as he pulls both your skirt and your panties down the length of your legs. You raise your back to help him a little, lowering back onto the mattress once you feel the fabric hit your ankles. You kick off the heels you had been wearing, the pooled fabric following, now leaving you entirely exposed under Joost's lustful gaze.
He stands back up, gripping the backs of your thighs as he does so, guiding your legs up. You wrap your legs around his thighs, and Joost moves closer, his arms pinned on either side of you as his body hovers over your own. The new position allows you to move your legs to be wrapped around his hips, digging your ankles into his back to push him closer to you.
He presses a rough kiss to your jaw, an indicator of how hungry he was for you now.
"Ready for me," He mumbles into your skin.
"Mhm," You hum, "Please."
You can feel him smirk as his lips linger on your skin,
"So polite, anything for you, liefje," He coos, removing one hand from the side of you, balancing the entirety of his upper body weight on one forearm now.
He grips the base of his cock with his now free hand, messily guiding the tip through your folds before lining up with your entrance. He waits a moment before finally pushing into you, he's slow, careful. The two of you share a gasp as he slips inside of you, the way you stretch around him is familiar, but it never gets any less mind-numbing no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation.
Your fingers grip into his bicep as he slowly pushes into you at a painfully slow pace. A strangled groan leaves your mouth as he finally bottoms out. You relinquish some of your grip on his arm, fingers loosening as he begins to build up a steady pace, thrusting inside of you.
You let your head tip, and back arch, completely relaxing your body, allowing yourself to be entirely consumed by the pleasure Joost brought you.
Neither of you speak for a while, the loud moans that escape both of you were doing more than enough talking. For a split moment you feel bad for the neighbors, and you hope they aren't awake to hear you through the thin apartment walls. But, your thoughts are swiftly taken away from your acute guilt as you feel Joost slam into you, harder than before. Your eyes shut tight, a pathetic whimper crawling from your throat as the tip of his cock hits deep inside you.
"Joost," You gasp as his thrusts become more pointed, the bed rocking beneath you.
"Feels good, right?" His voice is rich with cockiness, "No one fucks you as good as I do?"
"No," You exhale, "No one," Your vision begins to blur, as pleasure completely overtakes you.
"That's right," He groans, "No one knows your body like I do."
He's right, and you're sure no one will ever know you in the way he does,
"Fuck," You swallow, "We're never going to be able to stop this, are we?" Your heartbeat increases as you come to the realization of how badly the two of you need each other- no matter how much it disturbs the other facets of your life.
"No," His fingertips dig into the naked flesh of your hips, "We were made for each other." The way he speaks is barely romantic, his low growl rather implying that the two of you were doomed to forever be intertwined in this unfortunate circumstance, the far of you far too flawed to be with anyone but each other.
You can feel your body tensing up, a pressure burning in your abdomen, threatening to explode at any moment. You screw your eyes shut, your face twisting up, all of the emotion of the night smacking into you as your orgasm approaches.
"So close," You wince the hot coil in your lower stomach about to crack.
"Want to feel you make a mess on me," Joost begs from behind a clenched jaw, "Come on," He urges.
It takes a few more thrusts for your orgasm to overtake you, but as it does, it's strong. What could just be about considered a scream passing through your throat as your legs start to shake, your body tingling.
"Love you," You slur, your brain too fuzzy to even be cognisant of the words as they leave your mouth, your subconscious speaking for you.
"Yeah?" Joost asks, his thrusts becoming sporadic, losing pace, "Say it again, tell me how much you love me, schatje."
"I love you," You whine, your entire body twitching as you lose all control over your reflexes, your climax now in charge, "Love you, love you so much." Your words become slower, jaw slacking as your orgasm rolls over you, reaching its final stages, your cunt spasming around Joost.
"I know," He sighs, his lips returning to your jaw. He's able to slip in and out of you much faster now, his cock covered in your release, his thrusts forcing strangled cries from you, "I know," He repeats, "Fucking love you too,"
His hips stutter, and a string of curses are grunted into your neck as Joost's own orgasm approaches.
You inhale sharply as you feel him begin to finish inside you, his cock twitching in your poor overstimulated cunt as the warmth of his release fills you. It's messy, the way he continues to thrust with as much force as he can muster as he rides out his high, cum spilling onto your inner thighs which each thrust, lewd wet sounds filling the air.
Soon enough Joost is collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy as he tries to collect himself. Your legs drop from hs waist, your entire body lazy.
A certain sense of guilt creeps into you as you realize Michael is right, you have no self-control, unable to give up the feeling that Joost gives you for anything else in the world. You'll forever be chasing the high he gives you, because Joost was right too, you were made for each other.
Tumblr media
455 notes · View notes
he11swinter · 15 days
Note
hi it's me again :3 🦇 anon!!
ok this is my last ask for everyone i swear!! (it's not :3)
(for everyone!! :3)
what if i just went around and hugged u all?? honestly i don't really care what happens, i love being around u guys!!/gen (u guys r witterway the best pls keep being u)
Everyone says:
Tumblr media
Billy rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and displays the sassiest attitude possible. “Hugs are for sissies. Bleh.” He’s standing upside-down on the ceiling, so you have tough luck reaching him. The First Born Son sticks his tongue out at you and flickers away.
Jimmy crosses his arms thoughtfully. His voice is muffled by the plastic around his head. “Sheesh, I dunno, kid. I don’t get nothin’ out of hugs, personally.”
Susan giggles and throws her arms around your neck, bringing you in close. She comes between you and Jimmy, so you can’t hug him. “Hehehehe! You’re so cute. And funny.”
Jean smiles softly and brings you into a hug, but she’s a little sad. “Please don’t say that—that you don’t care what happens. Take care of yourself, hon.” She’s frightened of some of the other ghosts. She can sense them stirring in irritation.
Royce grimaces. “I don’t even know you, man. Back off.” He flips his baseball bat—to show off, or would he really use it?
Dana taps the edge of her knife, seeming bored, but if you approach her she raises it at the ready. There’s no doubt she would use it.
Isabella hangs back. She stays far away from everyone, and far away from you. She doesn’t want trouble, but her glare suggests you’ll get it if you push her too far.
Margaret and Harold are shy. They glance to each other—silent, still.
George contemplates. His expression is hard, and his stance just as tense. But when you approach and throw your arms around him, the blacksmith softens. He pats you awkwardly on the back, using his other arm to hold back the still-raging Ryan.
“Hell no!” The Jackal screeches when it’s his turn, no longer after you when it’s you after him. He cowers like a dog. “Not again. Get away from me—I don’t want it!”
As you approach Horace, his bloodshot eyes burn down on you. His arms are crossed. All this affection is annoying him immensely. He grabs you and hurls you away; the rest of the ghosts gasp.
8 notes · View notes