#List of The Best Tent
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The fact that in Deepest Reflections, AFTER EVERYTHING, when asked who his father is under veritaserum Harry stills says Lord Voldemort? Not even just Voldemort but honorific title and all??? I'm so unwell about their dynamic in Kurinoone's work
#harrymort#it's been 14 YEARS but i have it in my binding list and was lurking the chapters to see how to best make these books#and suddenly started reading some of my fave moments#me writing tentative: this is a love letter to the dark prince trilogy i hope it pays it the respects it deserves#me rereading this: the only rhing that xame between the dark lord and his son was fear itself I WILL NEVER MAKE ANYTHING LIKE THIS. EVER.#i am so unwell about this hiw am i going to bind all of these fics when i can't even reread them without screaming into the void
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Netflix: Here's a fun new concept, you can watch the episodes of this show in whatever order you like. Enjoy!
Me, immediately starting researching the internet for the 'correct' order to watch the episodes:
#WHAT'S THE CORRECT ORDER NETFLIX?!?!?#The only certainty i have is that the best first ep is yello and white should go last#kaleidoscope netflix#help lol#A tentative list right now is 💛❤️🧡💚💙💜💗💟#But I'm also curious about starting with red#netflix#kaleidoscope#giancarlo esposito#rufus sewell#jai courtney#tati gabrielle
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I might have settled on junior’s replacement name
Check back for details
#personal#originally I was gonna list out my favorite names and tell why I liked them#then have the people who actually reads my posts vote#but then I was looking at them and was like…..y’know what fuck it I like these the best#still slightly tentative names tho in case someone comes in with something better
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Emergency: Help save my children's lives
Dear humanity,
I am Habib from Gaza. I am married and have four children: Menna, 12 years old, Adam, 10 years old (suffering from quadriplegia), Maria, 6 years old, and Ezz, one year old. Although they are young, they have survived previous wars, but this current war is the most difficult of all. This is a war of genocide, and the difficulty of the war lies in the inability to meet the needs of my son Adam, who needs special care.
Over the past ten months, we have been caught in the crossfire of the ongoing conflict in Gaza. Our once peaceful home in Khan Yunis has been reduced to rubble, and now we find ourselves displaced in Deir al-Balah, living in squalid conditions in a makeshift tent on the streets. The devastation not only deprived us of our physical shelter, but also destroyed my livelihood - the once thriving business that supported our family's well-being, is now in ruins. The daily struggle for survival is exacerbated by the scarcity of basic necessities such as clean water, adequate sanitation and basic medical supplies
Our home was the place where we found hope and safety, and where we made precious memories. Losing him was like losing years of our lives.
Not only that, they destroyed my source of livelihood, burned it, and demolished it with bulldozers, and today I am without a home and without a job. I was working in a store I owned that met the needs and expenses of my family
Living in tents is miserable. There is a lack of drinking water, hot sun rays, and strange insects that have terrified my children. What hurts me most is my young son Ezz, who I see growing up in an unclean environment and with no healthy food for him. I believe he has not received his right to life.
At this stage, my husband and I decided to go to you and create an account on the Go Fund Me website and ask you to help us in these difficult times until we get out of Gaza, from the land of war to the land of peace. All we need from you is to support us and help us to get out of the war, even if you cannot help. You should spread the word. This campaign is everywhere and among your friends. We thank you for your stance and support for us. Thank you, my friends
The amount that will be collected from this campaign :
We will spend it by paying the amount to coordinate entry through the Rafah land crossing, which connects Gaza to the State of Egypt, since, as I mentioned, they charge an adult $5,000, but depending on the pressures, crises, and waiting, the amount may reach $7,000 per person, and children $2,500 to $4,000.
We will also use it for the rest of the travel and safe transportation expenses to provide for all family members.
A picture of my children's life before the war
A video of my children's lives living the war
May God reward you with all the best and may God bless you
Best wishes with sincere gratitude,
Habib's family
My Instagram account link
My account vetted by:
@dlxxv-vetted-donations
(vetted)
@gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #187 )
#free gaza#free palestine#gaza#gaza strip#gofundme#palestine#palestinian genocide#people helping people#please donate#ask#send help#signal boost#boosting#save palestine#i stand with palestine#gazaunderattack#gaza genocide#donations#donate if you can#thanks anon!#support
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Time to talk an unnecessary amount about floors!
Episode 6 of Dungeon Meshi was produced in collaboration with a smaller studio, Enishiya - and it went way harder than I expected, for being made up of two relatively simple and self contained stories focusing on one character each.
And you can really see how those extra resources meant the animators could give full focus to both halves of the episode. Let's take a look at one piece that stole the show.
The first half was handled primarily by episode director/storyboard artist Keita Nagahara and co-animation director Hirotoshi (or Hiroaki? [1]) Arai. It's actually kinda insane how much of this section can be attributed to these two.
But the real star of the show is the second half, Chilchuck vs the mimic, led by co-animation director Toya Ooshima in his first animation director role for TV anime!
And the biggest aspect that knocked my dang boots off was something that's very consistent with Ooshima's style: background animation!
By animating the backgrounds rather than using painted still images, Ooshima and the team of other similarly skilled animators are able to create these beautiful dynamic camera movements that wouldn't be possible otherwise. Like these cuts by Takeshi Maenami where the camera becomes an expressive part of the scene, zipping forward and backward, and tilting to emphasize the speed of this murderous hermit crab. (Maenami's style is also very recognizable here - snappy timing and quick camera movements)
Or this cut by the incredible Kaito Tomioka which cleverly combines a traditional background for the walls with a fully animated floor. The level of detail in these tiles is just completely insane, and used to great effect with this wide, diagonal angle, and the way the camera tentatively drifts forward before reversing direction, and the tiles blur out as it speeds up.
I don't think I'm the only one caught off guard by how much they full-assed this little side story, but it was a pleasant surprise!
I broke down the entire episode in this video here. A lot of research went into this one, and I think it's the best one of these videos I've made so far, so if you're at all interested in more of this type of analysis in video form, I would really appreciate it if you checked it out, or re-blogged this post! Thanks
youtube
[1] It's listed as Hirotoshi on Anime News Network, but Hiroaki on a key frame that Studio Trigger shared on Twitter, so I'm not sure which one is wrong.
#dungeon meshi#animation analysis#studio trigger#laios touden#chilchuck#video#original#mini essay#Youtube
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GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP
✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW
contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.
author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)
“did you tell them we’re back together?”
satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.
“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.
a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.
since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.
“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully.
“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.
“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air.
“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.
“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.
“boo, you whore.”
you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”
satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss.
“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.
“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.
“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”
satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”
you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.
satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”
you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”
your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”
“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”
“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”
and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”
“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”
this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.
“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”
“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.
you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies.
you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.
“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.
“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you.
satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.
even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you.
“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so.
“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”
your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.
“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?”
satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.
“maybe.”
“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”
in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.
so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.
“okay,” you whisper.
satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”
you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.
one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips.
satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”
“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick.
“as you wish, princess.”
satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.
you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”
he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”
you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo smut#jjk smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n
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I have made 2 posts before about Zuhairs campaign, and neither of them have received any attention.
I understand the hesitation behind sharing unvetted campaigns, especially a few months ago when many vetting groups were active, but something has changed. Most vetting groups are on hiatus or otherwise unavailable to contact. This is not to say that this hesitation has become irrational, because it's built on real problems which have happened before. But, when I see Zuhair, a child of only 15 years old, panicking to me about how everyone is overlooking him as he and his family are dying in the cold, I cannot understand how you all stay silent.
Zuhair is, as mentioned, only 15. He and his family have been displaced multiple times, and their house was destroyed. The camp where they live is filthy and filled with insects, and their tent fails to protect them from searing heat and bitter cold.
Nether Zuhair or his older sister Hiyam are able to continue highschool despite being in the most formative points of their lives.
They're all exhausted and in despair.
In order to support themselves and eventually evacuate, they need to raise $20,000 CAD. So far, they've only raised $360 and their last donation was 3 hours ago.
They also, as mentioned, desperately need money for a new tent so they can survive the oncoming winter. They need $700 as soon as possible.
Please, to the best of your ability, help them. Donate if you can and share their campaign. Every contribution matters, especially when they are being ignored to this extent.
As mentioned, their campaign is currently unvetted. It is donation protected however. If you are someone who can vet or know of someone who is currently taking applications, please tell me so I can relay this info to Zuhair and his family. They need all the help they can get.
previous posts x x
TAG LIST (DM me for removal)
@whisperingmedows @writerdoublein @e @rykerpuppy @renmemberme @t0w0bey @teddycuba @yogurtcake2000 @uchorusa @imp-panada @irunkefir @insufferablepilled @ichor-arrows @passion2lovvers @awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @dirkcapitationn @fatalbloomsinmoon @nabulsi @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @aria-ashryver @northgazaupdates2 @sar-soor @flower-tea-fairies @palestinegenocide @gazagfmboost @palestine-info-uncensored @heba-20 @aces-and-angels @fairycosmos @greenpinkstraw @ibtisams @radicalgraff @r4ms3yy @thestrugglerrr @shug888 @decolonize-the-everything @fototingobug @gaza-evacuation-funds @g3wgaw @greydrits @gainnecorpse @gasfuzbj @hamsterdads @himbo-noxx @heijegerkannibal @juliccardi @jvstcallmespade @kk3o2 @katylokk @keff-fr @literallyneurodivergentandaminor @lenaeeessshhh @la7ma-mafrooma @lutielutik @certified-dentist @cemetaryvampire @chemautopsy @cryptid-catnip @vetted-gaza-funds @vantisanjo @blu-berriez @neptunerings @neatleaf @meit1
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(sorry for the randomness of the tags, I just used what popped up. If anyone has advice on how to make a good taglist please tell me)
#gaza#gazaunderattack#gaza genocide#rafah#gaza strip#save rafah#palestine#free gaza#free palestine#free rafah#support palestine#palestinian art#viva palestina#palestine news#palestin#palestinian genocide#save palestine#i stand with palestine#pray for palestine#all eyes on palestine#gaza under siege#the gaza strip#fuck israel#save gaza#help gaza#rafah crossing#rafah border#rafah gaza#rafah news#all eyes on rafah
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Honey love, dark eyes
♡ Chapter one ♡
Summary: Joel Miller has been your best friend for four years, and your trust in him is as solid as ever. However, things go awry one night after a heated argument, and you find yourself in a position you never thought you'd be in: naked, underneath him, with his eyes devouring you like there's no tomorrow. And when you wake up the next morning, you know it right away, reality piercing your chest; things will never be the same again.
Word count: 9.4K
A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!
If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.
You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.
"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.
She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."
"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.
She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."
And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.
He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”
“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”
He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”
You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.
“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.
You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”
“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”
Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”
“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”
“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”
“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”
A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."
You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”
He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.
“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.
You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.
You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.
“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”
It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.
Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.
Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.
You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.
“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.
She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.
“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.
Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”
She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”
“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.
When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.
“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.
He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.
“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.
His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.
That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.
It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”
Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.
One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.
“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.
You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.
"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.
“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.
“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”
Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.
“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”
Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.
In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.
Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”
You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.
“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.
“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"
You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.
“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.
Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.
“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”
*
Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.
“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”
He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.
“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”
The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.
You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.
After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.
Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.
“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.
Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.
He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.
Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.
Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.
Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.
He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.
“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.
Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”
“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”
“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.
You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.
“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.
“How much did you pay for this?”
“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”
“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”
You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.
“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”
“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.
“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”
Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.
“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.
Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.
“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.
Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.
When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”
“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.
He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”
But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.
Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?
You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.
You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”
Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”
Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.
You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.
“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.
“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”
He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.
“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.
You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
“So, what did you do last night?”
He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”
You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.
Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.
Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not.
It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.
“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”
He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.
“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.
After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”
The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.
“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”
Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”
“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.
“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.
“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”
Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.
“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”
You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”
He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.
After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.
“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”
What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.
“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”
He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”
And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.
“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”
He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”
“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”
He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.
“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.
His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”
Jealous. He thought you were jealous.
He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.
But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.
“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.
Honestly, he could go fuck himself.
Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.
“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.
You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.
“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.
He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”
“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”
He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.
You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”
Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”
Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.
Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.
You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”
“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”
“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.
Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.
“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”
“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”
He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.
“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”
“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”
Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.
His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”
“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.
He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”
“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.
The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.
“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”
Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.
But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.
Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”
His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.
“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.
But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.
“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”
You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.
His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.
“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.
The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.
But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.
With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.
He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.
Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.
Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.
You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all.
No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.
You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness.
His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.
In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.
You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.
“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.
“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.
His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.
His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.
Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.
His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.
He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.
Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.
“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.
You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.
He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.
“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.
He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.
“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.
His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”
You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.
From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.
Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.
You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.
His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.
With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.
Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.
Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.
Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form.
There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.
With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.
“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."
You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.
The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.
His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him.
You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him.
“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.
A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.
Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure.
A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.
You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.
And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?
“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”
You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.
His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.
Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.
He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.
He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...
No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.
When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.
Joel was gone.
taglist: @orcasoul
#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#tlou fic#tlou hbo#tlou joel#capuccinodoll#joel miller is your best friend#joel x reader#joel tlou#joel the last of us#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal joel#dbf!joel
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We might be Forced to evacuate to for the 7th time!
We're leaving for the seventh time .. For the seventh time .. I'll have to convince a three year old and a one year old that we have to leave again, and what resembles a home we tried our best to provide to protect their childhood and make them toys and a swing in a tent they'll have to leave agian ! We spent almost all our savings and money on basic nessesities .. Now we worry about even transportation costs. Please help us survive this madness. PLEASE Donate and share Forever Indebted to All of you ! Verified by @el-shab-hussein Here
This has been Rokayah in eid and the other was her thank you letter she wrote you all 💖 We'll be leaving all of this behind
I am Firas Salem, a Software Engineer from Gaza and a father of two young children, almost 3 and 1. I would give my family the stars in the sky if they asked me to and I worked so hard so I can provide them with a happy life. I am the sole provider for my parents and younger siblings, making us a family of 11.
. We are living in extremely difficult conditions in Gaza, barely surviving in a cramped tent and mostly we'll be evacuating soon. . We urgently need to get out, and our only option is to reach Egypt, which costs $5,000 per person.
. Your donations can help us escape and cover essential life and medical expenses here in Gaza and in Egypt until we can start over. Please consider supporting us during this critical time. Thank you.
Please Please Help Share and Donate It's been a while ,I feel things changed here,please help me share this post . Thanks alot my friends I hope someday I can thank each one of you ! And I hope one day I can pay it forward !
Vetted or added to lists Here: #111 @el-shab-hussein list Here - #4 @fallahifag list Here @blackpearlblast list Here - @communistchilchuck list Here #1 @riding-with-the-wild-hunt list Here @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc list Here @kordeliiius list Here ___________________________________________ @ibtisams Here ,@fairuzfan Here , @palipu Here , @brutaliakhoa Here
#gaza genocide#gaza#all eyes on gaza#free gaza#gaza strip#gazaunderattack#gazaunderfire#rafah#go fund them#gaza solidarity encampment#gaza under siege#help gaza#news on gaza#north gaza#rafah gaza#stand with gaza#war on gaza#fuck israel#save gaza#palestine genocide#free rafah#free palestine#all eyes on rafah#mutual aid#aid for gaza#mobility aid#palestine aid#humanitarian aid#donation post#fundraising
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BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook One Shot
Summary: You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new? Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (idk man 😂) Word Count: 9.8k~ Warnings: Smut and Explicit language (obvi lmao) a/n: Okayyy it's finally here haha you guys really seemed to like the teaser so I hope this was worth the wait 🥰 p.s. barely edited per usual lol
"You seriously think I would actually get one of those?" I scoff, rolling my eyes at Ava. "What? You said you had been curious about it before, plus you said you wanted to try something new" she responds, scrolling through the website as I lean in closer, trying to read the smaller print.
I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it before, "A sex bot though?" I cringe, the words feeling unnatural coming out of my mouth.
"What? There's no shame in trying one. From what I've heard it's a single person's best friend. You don't have to bother going out to clubs to find meaningless hookups or have to deal with the hassle of finding a no strings attached relationship, or a real relationship in general" she says, pointing out the pros for this situation.
"It's the new and improved fuck buddy. Plus it's not like you have to keep him. You can try it out for a while and decide after that. See, they have a two week trial period!" She says, continuing her efforts in trying to convince me.
"I don't know, doesn't it seem a little...embarrassing? I wouldn't want anyone to know that I have one. Plus, after scrolling through the pictures of them it makes me realize how scarily realistic they look" I say while I take over the mouse and click around on the website here and there.
"And? That's the point. Think of it like you're getting a crap ton of new sex toys of your choosing and it's all assembled perfectly and does exactly what you want it to and will learn everything about you and your body and is only focused on satisfying you" she says, slowly warming me up to it.
"Plus you never have to worry them wanting anyone but you. They're there to serve you and please you and when you're done you could pretty much power them down and go to sleep. Simple as that" she says, her mission on convincing me slowly coming to completion.
"I guess I could start out with a trial period or something" I say tentatively and she immediately starts placing the order.
"Okay and what do you want him to look like? You obviously want to be attracted to him since that's pretty much the whole point so you can either upload a picture, scroll through the options they have on hand or put in a description of them here" she says, clicking in the description box and handing me the laptop.
I sit with it on my lap for a while, watching the cursor blink over and over, waiting for my brain to come up with something until she gets impatient and takes it from me so she can start writing one herself.
"Tall but not too tall...let's say 5 foot 10. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes that look innocent one moment but seductive the next" she lists off. "That's oddly specific" I laugh and she shakes her head. "I know you're obsessed with duality so shhh let me finish this up" she shushes and I watch her work her magic.
"Alright and done!" she says, handing me the laptop and letting me read through the description one last time before purchasing him. "Really?" I say, cocking a brow at her. "What? You don't like it?" she pouts thinking she got it down to a T. "I do like it, you're just so weird with these descriptions" I say and before she's able to refute it I list off a few of them.
"Abs that make me drool the moment I see them, Tattoo sleeve and hand tattoos so my necklace is pretty, a d- Ava are you serious?" I say scandalized by the last part, as if this wasn't all mortifying already. "What? That one guy you hooked up with had one and you said you liked it so..." she shrugs her shoulders. "A dick piercing" I mumble to myself while rubbing my temples, getting a headache from this whole ordeal.
"Whatever it's fine. Just do it before I change my mind" I say and wave her off while going to grab some wine and two glasses.
"Says he should be here by tomorrow afternoon" she say after going through the rest of the order form leaving me choke on air and her laughing at my reaction. "That fast?" I say after I've calmed down, plopping down on the couch next to her and pour each of us a glass. "Well yeah, the company's slogan is 'Your pleasure is our priority' and they offer overnight shipping on every order" she explains while grabbing the remote, pulling up Bridgerton for us to watch yet again.
I narrow my eyes at her and she looks over at me as if I was the one who's gone crazy. "What? I thought this might you know, refresh your memory on the things you always said 'Me and who?' about since 'Mr. Who' is coming tomorrow" she sing songs at the end and I roll my eyes again.
"Just remember to thank me next time you roll your eyes like that when he's all up in your guts tomorrow afternoon" she teases, taking a sip of her wine while mine nearly comes out of my nose. "AVA!" I scold her and she shrugs her shoulders, "Don't say I didn't warn you".
As the night goes by and we finish up the first half of the third season for the fifth time she gets ready to head home.
"You sure you don't wanna spend the night?" I ask and she shakes her head while she shrugs on her jacket. "No that's okay, I'm sure you've got a lot of things you might want to do to get ready for him so I'll leave you to it. I called an Uber so don't worry I'm not driving home tonight" she says and I nod my head, relieved that she's already got that plan in place.
"I'll come pick up my car sometime tomorrow okay?" she says and I smile before giving her a hug. "Text me when you get home" I say and she promises before walking out to the car. "Have fun tomorrow" she winks and I shake my head, waving her off once she gets in.
"Fun huh?" I chuckle, still in disbelief that I actually went through with it. I guess there's no harm in trying...right?
~~~~
I'm woken up out of a sound sleep by the doorbell ringing and I think for a second about who it might be while I rub the sleep out of my eyes.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand to see if anyone asked if they could come over but when I see the text message telling me that he's being delivered soon I bolt to the door, not wanting to have to deal with the awkwardness of trying to get him redelivered.
I straighten myself out and take a deep breath for a second in an effort to compose myself and in the next I'm opening the door.
When I look out I'm met with the sight of a delivery man with a huge wooden crate next to him and my eyes widen at the sheer size of it. "Sign here please" he says, handing me the clipboard and I step aside so he can bring it in.
"Is right here okay?" he asks, rolling it a little further in so it's not blocking the entry way. "Um yeah that's fine, thanks" I say, handing the clip board back to him before he excuses himself and closes the door behind him.
The silence in this room is almost deafening once my focus is trained on the box that's going to shake up my life for at least the next two weeks, gulping at the thought of what I've gotten myself into.
'Maybe if I just leave it there it'll disappear' I think to myself, going into full on panic mode as I start to think a bit deeper about it, turning on my heel to go shower and get dressed but once I come back my theory is disproven when my eyes land directly on the wooden crate that is still in the middle of the room.
I take a deep breath before walking towards it and you would think it was about to attack me with the way I'm being so careful about it. Circling around, debating on whether or not I should open it.
'Ava won't know if I just leave it in the box right? I'll just keep it here for two weeks and then send it back. Simple as that' I think to myself, walking past it and over to the kitchen to make breakfast but the longer I look at it the more curious I get.
I grab the crowbar that the delivery man gave me after I'm finished eating and toy with it, the choice weighing heavier and heavier on my mind as time goes by.
I decide that just one peek at him won't do anyone any harm so I start to pry it open...except for I can't.
For the life of me I can't figure out how the fuck I'm supposed to open this thing and no matter how much I struggle with it it just won't budge. 'I should've asked the delivery man to open it for me' I grumble but I think I would die if a stranger found out that I bought a sex bot but even with this not so discreet packaging he is probably very well aware of what it might be.
There are only two things that could possibly come in a box this size. A robot (not necessarily a sex bot though since there are multiple different kinds for sale) or a casket and last time I checked caskets aren't all the rage right now and they definetly aren't something people get delivered to their home.
I sit on top of the box with a huff, accepting defeat. 'I thought this was supposed to be a stress reliever' I groan and take my phone out of my pocket to call Ava but I'm soon met with her already knocking on my door.
"I hope I'm not...interrupting something" she says with a sly smirk when she takes in my messy state from trying to get that damn box open. "Yeah I wish" I grumble and walk back over to the bane of my existence today and sit on top of it again.
"Oh sick! He's here already" she say, excitement written all over her face but it soon dissipates when she sees the mental struggle written all over my face.
"What's wrong? Aren't you gonna open it?" she asks, tilting her head and checking out the crowbar that's wedged into it, the only proof of any progress I've made. "Can't get it open?" she chuckles and I scoff, not bothering to answer her.
"Come on I'll help you" she says and I sigh before getting up and giving it one last shot. "Alright one, two, three" she says and we both push down on it, thankfully hearing a crack seconds later, telling us we're starting to make progress.
"Yes!" I say, finally feeling hopeful again and when we finally get the last part pried open after a good fifteen minutes of struggle we both sigh, happy that it's all over. "That was a workout in itself" she groans and slumps down on the couch while I do the same for a moment to catch my breath.
"So you gonna go take a look?" she asks while nodding towards the box, "Yeah just give me a second, I have to mentally prepare myself again" I say and she scoffs before going into the kitchen to get the both of us some water.
"Come on dude I helped you open it so you at least have to let me see him! I'm dying over here" she whines and I contemplate it for a second before getting up and grabbing the manual that is lying on top of all the fluffy packaging that's keeping him safe.
"'How to bang your robot' sounds informative" Ava giggles and I scoff, "That's not what it says dummy" I groan, thumbing through the manual until I find the most important piece of information, how to turn him on...well power him up so to say. The other part I guess I'll figure out later on when we're alone, although I'm sure she would love to watch.
I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how she can talk about things like sex so openly but I guess that's part of her twisted charm.
I brush some of the hay-like packaging off of him so the both of us can finally see what he looks like and my breath hitches once his face comes into view.
"I did a good job huh?" she says while elbowing me in the side, groaning when she hits the new tattoo I got on my ribcage the other day. "Oh shit I'm sorry! I forgot!" she says, apologizing but I brush it off as an accident and go back to inspecting him.
After taking more of the packaging off I finally find where his on switch is, which happens to be on his peck. "Really? I haven't even turned him on and I already have to violate him?" I say, hesitating for a second and then just rip the bandaid off so to say and lift his shirt up.
"Damn those abs are drool worthy" Ava whistles and I wack her in the arm, "You're not helping" I groan and find the plate that is covering the on switch, looking between him and her, contemplating on if I should go for it or not.
She nods her head, urging me to do it and after a second or two I give in and flip the switch and quickly and fix his shirt so he's all covered up again. He might be a robot but I still think he deserves to be treated with respect.
Even if his whole purpose is to just fuck me senseless.
We both watch for a second and hear a few of the mechanisms start to move about before he takes his first breath. Well...kinda.
He opens his eyes and blinks a few times and I know for a fact that Ava hit it right on the head in her description. She knows me too well at this point if she was able to create a Mr. Right for me with a few clicks on her keyboard.
That or he's just very attractive to begin with.
He looks around for a second before turning his head towards me, our eyes locking for the first of many times and I can already feel my cheeks start to heat up. 'I'm fucked'
"H-hello" I say tentatively, not really knowing exactly where to go from here. "Hello gorgeous" he say, his first words to me already driving me into cardiac arrest as I choke on air again.
"Ignore her, she's just a little shy. This is-" "Y/n, I know" he says, cutting Ave off since he's already programed to know who I am, her having submitted pictures of me along with my order.
"Yes, this is y/n and I'm her best friend Ava. It's nice to meet you" she says, distracting him as I gulp down the water she brought but unbeknownst to me he has his eyes trained solely on me, already studying my every move. "It's nice to meet you y/n" he says and Ava looks over at me, watching as I struggle to compose myself.
She doesn't take his unwillingness to pay attention to her as an insult because he's meant for me and only me so she smirks again, patting herself on the back for making this creation for me.
"Well I'll leave you guys too it then. Have fun" she says but I grab her arm and drag her down the hallway, not letting her get away that easily. "Why did you do that?" I hiss and she scrunches her brows together, confused as to what I'm referring to.
"You know, make him all flirty with that whole bad boy aesthetic" I say and she smirks. "Because I know that those are the kinds of guys that make you weak in the knees but you and I both know better and stay away from them" she points out and I can't deny it.
"Now you can have all the fun with zero consequences. You can alway alter him later if you'd like but from your reaction it seems as though I've done my job well" she says, peeking her head around the corner and watching him as he gets out of the crate.
"I swear both of you are going to be the death of me" I sigh leaving her placing a hand on my shoulder, faking consolation before turning on her heel to head out.
"Wait! Where are you going?" I ask, chasing after her and glancing back over at my very attractive playmate whose eyes are all over me again as I continue to stay close to her.
"I've got a boyfriend waiting for me at home remember? Now you go have fun" she says shooing me away and when she sees me glance over at him and back at her with mixed emotions written all over my face she pulls me in for a hug to hopefully help calm me down which thankfully helps...a little.
"At least let the guy get to know you. I'm sure he doesn't bite...unless you program him to" she whispers the last part directly into my ear and I push her off me, rubbing away the ticklish feeling that she gave me which has her chuckling.
"It was nice meeting you" she yells over to him but she's not given a response again. "I guess I forgot to add good manners to his list of attributes" she mumbles and I roll my eyes. "That wouldn't really fit the bad boy look you gave him now would it?" I throw back and she laughs, unbothered by my curt behavior which stems from the panic I've had since he first spoke to me.
"Love you loser" she says and I mutter back a similar sentiment, closing the door behind her and resting my forehead against it before dealing with the very temping man in my living room but when I turn around I realize he's somehow managed to sneak up on me.
"What the-" I say, holding my hand over my heart to make sure it somehow doesn't jump out of my chest from the scare he's given me.
"Now that we're finally alone, I guess I can properly introduce myself" he says, resting a hand against the door and using the other one to caress my face before tilting my chin up so I keep my eyes trained on him.
"I'm Jungkook and from my understanding you're in need of some...attention" he says, his hand tracing down my body from my jaw to my neck, down my arm and rests on my waist. Nothing too sexual as of yet but enough to get my heartbeat racing even faster than it was before.
"I-" I start off, my voice cracking before clearing my throat and starting again, my flustered nature amusing to him, "I guess you could say that" I say and his grip on my waist tightens a bit causing my breath to hitch, the warmth radiating from his skin feeling so human.
Everything about him seems human. From his eyes that I could get lost in, to his lips that have two silver hoops through the bottom to all the other piercings in his ears. I marvel at how his scent is something that I already find intoxicating, his presence itself making me feel so small and I can't help but want to stare at him all day, even the swirls of ink on his forearm seem so real. It makes me wonder how someone like him could be created.
"I take it that my appearance is to your liking" he startles me again, a smug look on his face and I can tell already that she's got his personality down to a tee. "Um yeah. I uh, I guess you could say that" I stumble over my words and he laughs, that cocky fucking laugh that the guys that know they're hot do but I don't mind it.
Not this time. Not with him.
"Tell me love, would you like some of that...attention now or later" he says, leaning forward and whispering it in my ear, placing a kiss under it, making me shudder.
Feeling him smile against my skin makes me want him to fuck me on this floor right now but I know I can't do that. I know I'm not ready for that yet.
"W-why don't we start later? I kinda wanna talk to you first" I say and he runs his nose along the column of my neck, making me lose my train of thought for a moment.
"We can talk later if you want. I wouldn't mind learning more about you in other ways first" he says, his tempting nature almost making me give in before I finally regain my willpower and slip out from under his arm, quickly walking towards the couch to sit down.
"No let's talk first" I say and I can hear that same cocky laugh come out of him before he pushes off the door and makes his way over, sitting way closer than necessary but luckily I have some space to scoot away from him so I can turn to face him instead.
He drapes an arm over the couch while his other hand rest on my bare knee, again nothing sexual but I take note of how he already feels the need to at least touch me in some way, something I know I will never get used to since things like that have always given me a fluttery feeling in my stomach.
I shouldn't have worn a dress today...
He waits patiently for me to say something with his eyes focused on me and I try my hardest to remember exactly what I wanted to say but I start to realize that I just ended up using this as an excuse to buy more time before going any further with this. I know why I bought him and what his purpose is but damn!
"So um, I know you know my name already but I'm y/n and it's nice to meet you. How old are you? Well...I guess I should ask how old did they make you? No I'm sorry this is weird just yeah tell me a bit about yourself if you don't mind" I say and hope that they programed some sort of back story into him and he's not a blank canvas and luckily my prayers are answered.
"Well I'm twenty six and I'll be turning twenty seven on September first. I like tattoos, piercings, motorcycles and boxing. I was made custom for you so I don't have any other outside experiences besides interacting with the people who double checked me at the factory as well as your friend that was just here. So as far as that goes, you're the only person I've had a real conversation with. Was there anything else you'd like to know about me? I can run though some of the features I have if you'd like" he says starting to get up to what I assume is get undressed but I grab onto his wrist and immediately stop him.
"No! I mean no, let's save that for later. I'm sure you'll figure out what will please me as things...progress between us" I say, not really knowing how exactly to phrase it. "So you'd like me to learn your body through experience?" he asks and my cheeks flush at the thought and all I can manage to do is nod before my eyes go wide as his hand slides up my thigh.
"Well I can assure you I'm very eager to learn. I may not look it but I rather enjoy studying when I have such a gorgeous subject to focus on" he says, his hand somehow having slipped under my dress.
"We um, we'll have plenty of time for that" I say, placing my hand on top of his to make sure it doesn't trail up any further. And again I'm so surprised at how human he feels, it's something that I expected but I didn't realize that he would feel this real.
He huffs and nods sitting back to give me some more space, not wanting to make me feel uncomfortable but still wanting to fulfill his duty to me. I notice the change in his expression and I rush to explain myself since I don't want there to be any sort of misunderstandings between us.
"I'm not saying this because I don't want you, you know that right?" I ask and he shakes his head not completely understanding since he's programed for one sole purpose upon opening. "Am I doing something wrong?" he asks, wanting to make changes to his behavior so he can make sure he's doing what I want and servicing me well.
"You're not doing anything wrong I promise. I'm- well I'm just a little bit nervous and I get flustered easily. I don't really know how this should go so I wanted to take it a bit slower" I say and he nods his head and I can see that there's almost a mechanical glow flickering behind his eyes which I can only assume is something that happens when he alters his behaviors based on my liking.
"I do like the way you've been treating me but I'd like to work up to that...if that makes sense" I say and he nods again and once I've stopped speaking my mind on it he finishes up his reprograming and looks back over at me, his seductive eyes a little bit softer now which somehow makes me even more flustered.
"Better?" he asks, his low sultry voice switching to one that's more playful, his teasing nature a clear want for me still but a lot more manageable this time. "Better" I echo, giving him a soft smile and another once over before realizing that I haven't said much about myself in return.
"Sorry, I guess I should tell you a bit about myself as well" I say but before I can start he's already listing off things like my birthdate and the fact that I'm only a year younger than him as well as my interests and hobbies.
"Wow that uh, that order form was a lot more detailed than I thought it was" I say and he laughs. "Weren't you the one that filled it out?" he asks curiously, tilting his head to the side, the first glimpse of innocence that I've seen all day.
"Well kinda. Ava was the one who did it and I just kinda glanced over at it once it came to the physical appearance but uh, she kinda came up with all of that too" I admit and he nods his head, taking in all that I've told him.
"So is my personality not to your liking? I can always instruct you on how to reprogram me more thoroughly" he offers and my heart breaks at that. "No Jungkook I don't want to change you. I think we just have to take a second to get used to each other. Your personality is to my liking because..." I trail off, weighing on whether or not I should say this but go for it anyway. He's a robot right? There's no harm in being honest with him.
I take a deep breath before trying to finish my statement, clearing my head so I can formulate it right. "Everything about you is to my liking because I am extremely attracted to you" I admit and look at my lap, not being able to face him. This is what he's here for though right? I'm meant to be attracted to him and he's meant to fulfill my desires so why do I feel shy admitting this to him?
The next thing that happens takes me by surprise as he hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it up before placing a kiss on my lips, one that I can only label as a perfect first kiss. My eyes go wide when I realize that I just kissed a robot but something about it feels so natural...and that's the part that scares me.
He leans back and gauges my reaction and when he sees that I was not displeased with the choice he made he leans in and kisses me again, and again, and again until I'm the one that's started to take control.
I place my hand on his shoulder and push him back but don't break the contact between us and when he realizes what I'm doing he grabs my hips and guides me onto his lap, the synthetic muscles of his thighs feeling so real.
From the way his hands are exploring my body and even the way he tastes on my tongue everything about him feels...human.
I need to stop thinking. I just need to enjoy this, enjoy him and when his hands move from resting on my hips to sliding down and grabbing my ass all thoughts of him being anything but real flee.
Our lip lock is broken once I'm gasping for air and he trails his kisses down my neck and presses his lips against the place he first kissed me, making me shiver again and he takes note of that, learning through experience just as he said.
"You're sensitive here aren't you?" He teases and if this taunting tone is the one he uses to gather intel on me them I'm screwed. He could literally do anything to me right now and I'd fold. What is it about him that's driving me insane when we've done almost nothing?
He bites down on that spot when I don't answer and when I moan instead of a cry of pain he gets his answer. "That's what I thought" he chuckles and continues his ministrations, touching me here and there and trying to garner other sounds and reactions out of me.
"J-jungkook" I stutter out and he hums against my skin while he sucks marks into it, no doubt wanting to experiment with my body. Licking, kissing, sucking every bit of bare skin that's exposed to him. "What is it gorgeous?" he asks, kissing the mark he's made before leaning back against the couch to look at me.
"B-bedroom?" I stutter out and he smirks as he responds. "You sure you don't wanna ride me right here?" he says and my breath hitches, not expecting him to be like this. "This view is way too good to give up on" he says, his hands gripping my thighs while his thumb rubs circles against my skin.
"Be a good girl and ride me yeah?" he rasps in my ear, kissing my neck making me want to melt into him, everything about this making me dizzy.
He makes the decision for me as he slips his hand under my dress again while he uses the other to hold onto my neck and pulls me down to kiss him again. He plays with the hem of my underwear and pulls on it and snaps it back into place making me bite on his lip.
"Ow!" I groan gaining me a deep chuckle that makes my scoldings die in my throat. "I know you're a little slut for pain no? Something about you just screams the desire to be put in your place" he says and my eyes widen. I've never told anyone about that but this man...robot has known me for less than an hour and is already aware of it.
"We can experiment with that next time because right now I just want you to ride my fingers. You can do that for me right gorgeous?" he says, using that word as a pet name now. I swear if he calls me that all the time I'm gonna lose it.
He leans back and looks at me, taking note of all of my reactions and when he cocks a brow at me I nod my head right away. "Yeah" I say, my voice sounding foreign to me but thankfully that was enough for him as he tells me to stand up and take my underwear off.
"Keep the dress on. You look so pretty after getting all dolled up for me. I would hate to make you take it off" he says and I swear everything about him is driving me insane. If he wasn't a robot I would be in serious trouble.
"Come here" he says, beckoning me over with one finger and once I get close enough he grabs me by my hips and makes me straddle him.
He takes one of his hands off and slides it down my thigh painfully slow and I find myself getting wetter at the feeling, getting teased by him feeling totally new.
Once his fingers trace up and down my folds he hums in satisfaction. "So wet for me already and I've barely touched you" he taunts and I squirm, needing him to do something. No matter how much I love his teasing I decide seconds later that I need him now.
"Please" I let out and he smiles before circling his finger around my entrance still toying with me. After a another minute of this torture he finally speaks up as if he had been waiting for me. "Come on gorgeous, you asked for it. Ride my fingers so I can see how pretty you look" he says, barely dipping a finger inside of me, coaxing me into letting my inhibitions go.
I sink down on it and I let out a whine, not having been touched like this in a while making me sensitive. "That's it, keep going love, you're doing so well" he rasps in my ear and I lift my hips up a bit before sinking back down on it again, a sloppy pace being set in and he chuckles at my efforts.
"Someone hasn't been fucking my baby properly huh? Needed to get me to do it right? You're so pretty though, looking so concentrated and frustrated because you can't go fast enough" he taunts, adding another finger when I sink back down making me throw my head back from the stretch, my want to ride him only increasing.
"Gotta make you work for it a little" he says, finally adding a third finger making me moan his name in response. "Fuck I love watching you fall apart like this" he curses and takes his fingers out of me only long enough to take his jeans and boxers off and once I see him I can't help but gulp at the size.
"It's okay, don't worry. I can change it as I make my way inside you. I promise you it won't hurt. This is always all about you" he says, tilting my chin up and making eye contact with me. I nod my head and mumble out a quiet 'okay' before he grabs my hips and makes me hover over it while he lines himself up.
"Sit on my lap gorgeous" he says as words of encouragement when he senses my hesitation. 'Shit am I really about to bang a robot?' are the thoughts that run through my head but once the tip pushes past my folds I couldn't give a fuck who he was.
Both of us watch as it disappears inside me and I let out a few shuddering breaths as I feel him adjust, fulfilling his promise to change it to make it fit. "You're doing so well" he says, rubbing up and down my thighs, letting me get used to the feeling.
"You okay?" he asks, noticing how still and silent I've gotten. "Yeah, I just haven't done this in a while" I admit even though he already knows. "Want me to take over?" he asks, thrusting up into me once to show that he's more than willing to do it. "No, I can do it" I say, taking a deep breath before lifting my hips up and and dropping down on him, knocking the wind out of myself when I come down too fast.
"You sure?" he asks, grabbing onto my hips and helping me set a pace to make it easier for me. "Shit" I curse under my breath and he chuckles, "Baby's got a dirty mouth huh? I would've never known since you've been so shy and blushy with me this whole time" he lifts his hips off the couch and gives me a sharp thrust making more curses fall from my lips.
"That's it, just like that. Doing so good for me" he says, coaching me and making me feel more confident and when he hit's a spot inside of me I shudder and it catches his attention. "Right there huh?" he asks, thrusting up into me, this time softer, going with the rhythm I've set in but makes my hips stutter when he brushes against it over and over and over again.
"You wanna lay down for me?" he asks and I nod letting him take over and laying me down while still staying inside of me. "You're so beautiful" he say, taking in my dazed state before he start moving his hips, brushing up against that spot again and making my back arch off the couch.
"F-fuck Jungkook" I moan and he chuckles, watching me fall apart under him. "Fuck, right there" I scream, toes curling and body seizing as my orgasm crashes down on me with one last pointed thrust, a string of obscenities falling from my lips as he fucks me through it but when I start to get sensitive again he keeps going.
"Jungkook wait" I say, my breathing picking up when I realize what he's trying to do. "You can give me one more can't you?" he asks, his hips slowing down but never stopping, his movements more sensual now making my breathing more ragged, the feeling of an onset high building again.
I whimper once he picks up his pace a bit but he stops when he hears it. "Tell me to stop and I will" he says, reminding me that this is all about me, I control what happens here and it is my decision.
"Keep going" I say, pulling him down and locking our lips together, needing to muffle these embarrassing moans with his mouth when he starts up again, his pace picking up now and moving faster than before. "S-shit just like that" I stutter, the change in pace bringing me close to that edge so much sooner.
"Been thinking about this view ever since I laid my eyes on you. It's even better than I expected. Look at the way you fall apart under me" he says, his words barely registering when I'm about to tip over. "Eyes on me pretty" he says and when I see the way he's looking at me I reach that high in seconds, my body convulsing from how hard he's made me cum again, the second more intense than the first.
He fucks me though my high and places kisses all over my neck and let's me catch my breath as I come down and soon I'm left in a daze.
"J-jungkook" I stutter out as a way to ask him to stop and he does, pulling out and making me hiss. "Look at the mess you've made" he says and I look up to see he's glistening with my slick and I cover my face.
"I'm sorry I just..." I start not really knowing why I'm apologizing. "You just what?" he says, taking one of my hands off my face and kissing my wrist, smiling when he registers how high my heart rate has gotten.
"You're really good with that thing you know" I say and he laughs. "Cute and a sense of humor. Looks like I lucked out on my owner" he says and I feel a sense of guilt, remembering that this isn't real. That he isn't real.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asks and I shake my head before sitting up. "No, no you did nothing wrong I just, well it made me feel weird when you called me your owner" I say and I watch as his eyes glow, another sign of him reprograming himself.
"What would you like me to call you?" he asks leaving me hesitating for a second before I finally come up with it. "Maybe your girlfriend?" I propose and the corner of his mouth tugs up, clearly finding the result favorable but I rush to explain myself.
"Or you can just call me your friend you know because girlfriend is kind of forward and I don't know" I cut myself off when I realize I'm rambling and get shy when I see the way he's looking at me. Utterly fascinated with my every move and although I just finished I can't help but get a little breathless.
"Do you wanna be my girlfriend y/n?" he asks, the use of my name instead of the pet names he's been calling me having a different effect on me.
"I well, I just" I start tripping over my words again but he grabs my chin gently and dips it up and down, making the choice for me to nod yes as my answer. "Glad we got that cleared up" he says tapping me twice under my chin before straightening himself out and picking me up off the couch and carrying me into my room.
"Wait Jungkook what are you doing?" I panic as I wrap my arms around his neck to help me balance. "I figured you might want a bath after what just happened so..." he trails off as he walks into the bathroom and sets me down on top of the counter before turning on the faucet and grabbing a bottle and tipping it contents into to make me a bubble bath.
"Are you able to..." I trail off and he turns around and walks over to me, resting both hands on the counter on either side of my hips and giving me his undivided attention. "Am I able to what?" he asks, tilting his head and waiting for me to continue. "Can you take a bath with me too? Or is that not possible?" I ask, not having read hardly any of the instructions before turning him on.
"If you're asking if I'm waterproof the answer is yes I can be submerged into water without issue" he says, tracing a finger against my jaw before tipping it up to place a chased kiss on my lips, turning back to the bath and making sure the temperature is alright before he starts to strip.
I watch as he does so, curious to see if there are any real differences that I can spot but there really aren't. "Incredible" I mumble under my breath and he catches onto it. "Like what you see?" he chuckles and walks back over to me and lifts me up off the counter and reaches for my zipper.
"No, I mean yes but I'm just so surprised how lifelike you are. Is that rude to say?" I cringe and he chuckles again, letting his attention go back to undressing me as he lets my dress pool around my ankles scanning my body being fully bare to him and I gulp watching his reaction as I'm sure he's literally committing it to memory.
"The answer is no, it's not rude" he says, his eyes trailing back up to mine as he places a hand on my waist and the other cupping my face with his thumb tracing along the bottom of my lip. "Your word is law to me. Whatever comes out of these two lips is true" he says and my breath hitches as he leans in close.
I close my eyes and wait for the feeling of his lips against mine but when they don't reach me I look back up at him, his face dangerously close to mine making my heart rate pick up again. "What do you want me to do?" he rasps, his warm breath leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Kiss me" I whisper and close my eyes again and soon feel his lips on mine again.
"Pick me up" I mumble through our kisses and he does just that and reads my mind by walking over to the tub and placing me in gently with him sinking in after me. I lay with my back up against the wall of the tub and take in a shaky breath once he crawls closer and hovers over me and before he can ask me again I'm sitting up and pressing my lips up against his again.
He responds with a fervor and devours my lips, taking my breath away leaving me gasping for air once he notices. "Sorry, I forgot that I need to let you catch your breath sometimes huh?" he taunts and I roll my eyes but once I feel his finger dragging up and down my folds again he looks up at me.
"Do you want my fi-" "No, just you" I say cutting him off with another kiss and he gets the message, lining himself up with me again and pressing in, this time making it a bit bigger making my back arch off the wall. "You can take it, shh" he says, pressing a kiss on my temple as I take in the stretch, shaky breaths being the only thing heard for a few more seconds before I nod my head.
"That's my girl" he says, pulling back before rocking his hips back into me, setting a pace that makes my eyes roll back, still being sensitive from before but drunk on the feeling of him inside of me, hitting all the right spots making my toes curl.
The water sloshes around and I'm taken out of the moment for a second when I hear a big splash of it hit the floor. "Jungkook I-" "I'll clean it up later" he says and smashes his lips against mine, picking up the pace and making an even bigger mess, a third of the water we stared with all over the floor.
"Fuck Jungkook, f-faster" I pant out and he smirks as he sets in an inhuman pace that has me screaming his name, the wind knocked out of me and seconds later I'm cumming.
I'm gulping down air once that initial wave dies down soon sending shockwaves in it's wake as he fucks me through it, slowing down to a lazier more sensual pace and when I open my eyes everything has gone so hazy.
"You cried" he says, wiping a tear off of my face and I realize that's the clear cause for my vision. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any more temping you go and pull this" he says, leaning in to lick up the tears on my other cheek.
"I hope you know I'm never letting you get away from me until you're a sobbing mess like you were just a second ago" he teases, cupping my face and looking at me, a clear want for more hidden behind those eyes but I shake my head.
"No more please, not tonight" I mumble and he chuckles and nods his head before he places one last kiss on my lips. "Should I fill up the tub again" he asks, his forehead against mine after having broken the kiss.
"Oh! Um yeah if you wouldn't mind" I say awkwardly and he smiles and places a kiss on my forehead before he gets out of the tub and wraps a towel low around his waist and grabs the bottle again to fill up what will now be a nice relaxing bubble bath, emphasis on the relaxing aspect.
"Is everything okay?" he asks monitoring the temperature as the water fills up again. "I'm fine, I think I'm just trying to get used to this you know. Like us" I say and he nods his head, trying to understand but I can see that things are still not clear.
"Jungkook you have been treating me so well and taking care of me and making sure I'm satisfied. I just need a second to process" I say and he looks up at me to gauge my sincerity and assesses that I'm being truthful.
"Okay, I just don't want to do anything that you might not like" he says, insecure with the arrangement as well since well this was his first time too. Even though he's just a robot the lines between human and machine are so blurry after people have created things like him.
"If I didn't like it I would've told you. You've been very receptive and have been working on finding my limits and I appreciate that and I'm more than satisfied with the way that you've been treating me. To be honest you're even better than I expected" I admit, hoping to lighten him up and luckily it does.
"Oh yeah?" he smirks and I roll my eyes, "Don't get too far ahead of yourself. One good fuck does not equal perfection" I say, trying to deflate his ego but it only boosts his want to prove himself even more.
"Remind me to ask you about that in a few days okay? Wanna make sure I've been making progress" he says and I go quiet, thoughts of what might happen between us in the coming days making me anxious.
"If my body wasn't spent already I would make you put your money where your mouth is" I throw back moments later and he cocks a brow at me.
"Well would you look at that, cute, funny and mouthy" he taunts and I recoil back into the corner of the tub when he stalks closer to me. "Might makeyou put that mouth of yours to work next time huh?" he says, caressing my jaw and running his thumb along my bottom lip "But I bet you'd like that a little too much" he say, tapping under my chin twice and heading towards the closet to get some extra towels to clean up the mess we made.
I observe him wordlessly as he mops up the floor until it's completely dry and he heads out to grab something or other and comes back into the bathroom with a new pair of jeans on, these ones tighter than the first pair. "Where did those clothes come from?" I ask, gulping at the sight of him back in his 'Man that I should steer clear of' aesthetic.
"They were in the box I came in" he says, slipping a white t shirt over his head. "I can always walk around shirtless if you'd like" he says, noticing the pout that I had unconsciously put on my face and I clear my throat and make excuses.
"No that's okay. Whatever you're comfortable with, or I guess programed with is fine by me" I say and I stand up to get out of the tub and walk over to the shower to rinse off but when I try to my knees give out and he catches me, the white t shirt he's wearing now wet and I gulp at the sight of it.
'I swear I'm such a slut' I think to myself.
"That might be the case but you're my slut now" he says and I flinch and try to get out of his hold. "Did you just read my mind?" I ask, fully confused as to how he could've known what I was thinking. "No silly you said that out loud...but it was kind of written all over your face anyways" he teases and push him off of me or at least try to but he guides me by my hips into the shower so I won't hurt myself.
He leaves me to finish up on my own and places a towel nearby so I can dry of easily and when I walk into my room I can see he's sat on my bed wearing a new shirt, black this time but a little tighter than the one before.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, seeing the hesitance written across my face but I shake my head.
"No, I have to get use to you seeing me naked anyway so might as well..." I say, cutting myself off and let my towel drop, "start now" I finish and I can see his eyes widen making me smile. I turn to walk towards my dresser, pulling out a two piece set instead of going through the effort of getting dressed again.
"You're just full of surprises aren't you?" he says having come up behind me and wrapping his arms around my bare waist, quickly tugging on one of my nipples making me yelp. "Jungkook what are you-" I start but he reaches into my drawer and grabs a nightgown instead...if you could even call it that. One gust of air and I'm completely exposed.
"Wear this one" he whispers in my ear and places a kiss on my bare shoulder before leaving the room and wandering off to who knows were.
'How did he even know that was in th-' I cut off my thoughts as the realization of what he might've done hits me. I slip on the one he had chosen and walk out and down the hallway into the living room and I catch a glimpse of him in the kitchen, seemingly making me something.
"Did you go through my clothes?" I ask with a lilt in my voice, amused and honestly turned on at the thought. "No. I just took a look at your lingerie since I'm the one who's gonna be seeing it from now on. I just wanted to see what I have to look forward to" he says with his back turned to me and my cheeks heat up at his nonchalant attitude about it but I know for a fact he's just doing this to get a reaction out of me.
"Looks like someone's eager" I say, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist and look down on what he's making. "I hope you like breakfast for dinner" he says as he pours in the egg mixture and soon adds the filling making by my standards a perfect omelet. "I love it" I say taking a whiff of the mouth watering dish.
"How did you even find all of this?" I ask, confused as to where all these ingredients came from. "While you were in the shower someone came and delivered your groceries so I just brought them in" he says and my mouth forms an 'o' forgetting I had set that up yesterday. "Oh yeah I forgot that was coming today. Thanks for bringing it all in" I say and he hums in response.
After I'm all finished eating I'm honestly spent and when I go to rinse off my plate and put it in the dishwasher I feel him wrap his arms around my waist from behind, our roles now reversed.
"You know why I wanted you to wear this right?" he rasps in my ear and starts placing more kisses on my neck making me almost forget the question but I decide to shake my head since I want him to tell me, the seduction in his words almost tangible.
"Easy access" he says as he slips his hand under my nightgown and rests it on my stomach, slowly trailing down to slip under my waistband but I push him off after a second, remembering the ache he's caused between my legs.
"Nope, no more tonight" I say, turning around to face him and the innocence Ava had added to the list of traits coming through as he's standing there pouting at me. "Come on let's go to bed" I laugh grabbing his hand and he drags his feet behind me as he follows, still not happy with the outcome of it all.
"Fine..." he says and takes off the jeans and t shirt he just put on about an hour ago and places them on a chair next to what is now his side of the bed. "but take these off" he says, walking over to me and grabbing the waistband of my underwear and snapping it back into place again.
"Hey!" I call out and he chuckles as he walks back over to his side of the bed and gets under the covers and waits for me to do as he asks. I narrow my eyes at him for a second but ultimately do it granting him 'easy access' as he's called it for tomorrow morning when he no doubt fucks me back to sleep.
Once I'm finished he tugs on my arm and makes me topple down on the bed in a fit of giggles. "You're so cute when you laugh" he says, caressing my face once we've settled in beside each other and I smile.
"You think so?" I ask and he nods his head. "You look even prettier when you cum though" he says and I widen my eyes and sit up and wack him on his chest before turning around to face away from him. I feel the bed shift as he switches his position and soon put an arm around my waist and pull me back to him so my back is flush with his chest.
"You're insufferable" I mumble and he laughs, "Goodnight love" he says and I get a fluttery feeling in my stomach. "Goodnight Jungkook" I say back and he places one last kiss on my bare shoulder before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
"Dream of me" he says right before I pass out and I do, I dream of all we could possible do together...what he's going to do to me and it makes me want to pull myself out of the dream to get to him now but I know he'll be there when I wake up.
'How to bang your robot' Ava's voice echoes in my head while I'm lost in la la land and I smile...
Oh how informative it was indeed.
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Help my family survive 🇵🇸🙏
Please read this ����👇🏻
Hello, I am Amal from Gaza. I am 28 years old. I am married to Abdel Nasser, and I have a daughter named (Rolan) and a son named (Omar). We live in difficult circumstances. Our lives have changed for the worse. The occupation destroyed everything. My husband and I lost our jobs and our home, and I lost my father due to the delay in receiving treatment and the lack of medicines, as the war has been going on for a year. I now live in a tent with my husband, children, mother, and younger siblings, and I take care of them because my mother is sick and needs treatment and special attention, and I do not want to lose her like my father.
My children grew up in war. They grew up under fear, terrorism, bombing, destruction and food shortages. I hope everyone will look at us with mercy and help us get out of here as quickly as possible so we can live a better life than this nightmare. My children and brothers can live a beautiful life like the rest of the children in the world, and they can be educated. Please help us escape from Gaza.
$79 raised of $15,000 goal
best wishes:
Amal alhaj
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@gaza-evacuation-funds
, my number verified on the list is ( #135 )
@bilal-salah0
Help me spread it, thank you
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“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆。˚
tommy shelby x fem!reader
you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)
18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut
cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink
word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)
a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌
you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.
you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.
your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.
they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.
everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.
when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.
your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.
a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.
what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”
tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.
a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”
it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.
needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.
when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.
the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.
dearest y/n,
i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?
all my love,
tommy shelby.
you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.
dearest tommy,
to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.
only yours,
y/n.
tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.
that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.
4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.
“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.
after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”
your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”
he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.
he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”
you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”
“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.
things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.
ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.
you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.
he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.
“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.
“mornin’, sweetheart.”
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IMPORTANT update on mohammed's campaign!
mohammed almanasra @save-mohamed-family has unfortunately been having issues with fundraising. his first campaign was shut down by the bank and GFM without him getting any of the money he raised. recently he had some concerns about the person hosting his second campaign because he has only been receiving a small percentage of the funds raised and the host wouldn’t send receipts. he thought it'd be best if we started a new campaign with me hosting it and shut down the old campaign. i'll be organizing this now so hopefully there will be no problems and i can be transparent with him about the finances. also in a stronger currency (USD)
mohammed has been verified by @el-shab-hussein and is on the Vetted Gaza Fundraiser List #192 with this updated link now
you may have seen my other posts about his campaign, mohammed and i talk frequently and its so awful what he's been through in this genocide:
mohammed lost his mother, father, and four sisters who were killed in a bombing, and is now living in tents with his remaining family members, his wife and three young children. he was seriously injured in his foot and it may need to be amputated, but he told me that hes doesn't care if he loses his foot he just doesn't want to lose his family. his wife has uterine cancer but hasn't been able to get treatment recently because the genocidal israeli army has destroyed health centers. his children are suffering from infectious diseases spreading throughout gaza, and the little medical treatment available is very expensive. here’s a photo of his kids who instead of having a normal childhood have to struggle to survive.
they've been displaced recently again, because of the israeli army changing the location of so called 'humanitarian zones,' and every displacement is expensive and exhausting, with no guarantee that where they are forced to move to is actually safe. right now mohammed told me he doesn't have good enough internet to use tumblr unless he goes to a internet hot spot which are often more dangerous because the idf targets people there. he knows it's risky but fundraising online is the only way he can support his family right now.
mohammed has made posts on his blog about their situation and i do encourage you to read his own words, because i am merely summarizing conditions that are far worse than any of us from outside can really comprehend
the pain of losing so many family members, your home, your job, your city, and everything you have is already unimaginable. please dont let him lose any more of his family. donate to this campaign and if you cant, share it with someone who can.
especially if you have a degree of disposable income i implore you to think about what you can reasonably give. it could be relatively small adjustment for you but make a significant difference for someone else. thank you very much everyone who participated already for starting this out with some donations.
$205 raised of $50,000 USD
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k
❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.
"Oh, yeah? What about?"
"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”
“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.
“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”
You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”
“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”
“I would.” More than he knows.
It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.
Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.
You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.
The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.
You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.
He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.
You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.
The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.
And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.
He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.
Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing ��� poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”
His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”
You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.
(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)
And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.
Of course, you take your job very seriously.
You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”
“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.
“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”
“The verdict, then?”
“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”
Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.
You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.
“You gonna treat me or what?”
Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.
The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.
Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.
“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”
But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”
You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.
You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?
But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.
“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.
He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.
After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.
Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.
And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.
“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.
Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon riley fic#cod x reader#cod fic#call of duty fic#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw x reader#cod mw fanfiction#cod mw 2
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kinktober - day 07 - virgin
gaz x f!reader | 2.3k words cw: gaz pov, some manipulation/kyle isn’t the most well meaning man in this, implied pining lol, mutual masturbation, piv sex summary: kyle's lifelong best friend happens to mention she's a virgin. it's a good thing he's a gentleman. sort of. a/n: i intended to stick to my wc but then the voices (kyle) kept talking banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list
Her bra hooks the back of her desk chair—lucky shot.
Kyle’s on a lucky streak, seems like. First, securing leave. A feat in and of itself. Second, successfully talking his way into staying at his best girl’s place. Third, though perhaps the most engineered, getting her not-quite-boyfriend to leave.
She was upset, of course. Cried into his shoulder for two days. She didn’t understand why Whatshisface had left so abruptly and stopped returning her messages. She bemoaned her return to sudden singleness and the barely-off-the-ground relationship. Kyle amused her. Comforted her. Assured her there was nothing she was missing out on.
(A leading statement. Makes targets keen to correct. She, being no different, immediately said—)
“Yes there is!”
“Doubt it. Matthew didn’t seem like one to carry particularly stimulating conversations.”
“His name was Michael, and let’s just say, I might as well convert and join a convent.”
Hook. “What do you mean by that?”
Line. Wiggling. “I just…I mean I’ve never…”
Come on. “Never what?”
“Fucked. Okay? I’ve never fucked someone.”
Sinker.
He thanked himself for acing every RTI course he’d taken, what with the journey his insides took at such an admission. Never in a million years did he think he’d get so lucky. He had wondered if he’d lost his chance ages prior, a lifetime ago.
And she said it all self-deprecatingly. She laughed at herself. But he watched her face fall.
Then, rise, tentatively, with his offer.
“Say the word, and I’ll save you from the sisters.”
Which led him here, her bra settling against a piece of furniture, a pair of fantastic tits spilling damn near his face.
Kyle lowers and buries his face into the cradle of her neck and shoulder. A moan slips from her mouth as he presses a kiss there, stubble rasping her skin. He grunts, teeth scraping and hands shoving up to palm at her chest. Thumbs swiping over her nipples, feeling them harden further.
Her honeyed voice in his ear, gasping softly. “Ah, Kyle.”
Kyle grins against her neck. So sensitive, so responsive. He cannot wait to hear what sort of sounds he’ll pry out of her.
He pulls back, meeting her half-lidded gaze with his own. Anticipating coiling in his stomach as his hands smooth up her thighs, then tuck under the waistband of her panties. Seeing no obvious distress or discomfort, he tugs them down, teeth resting on his bottom lip at the unveiling of her body. He groans at the sight of her coarse curls, he loves a woman with a bush, but his lips part at the sight of her pussy. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Another time, further down the road—he’ll ask her for a picture. Just for him.
“Won’t it be awkward?” She had asked.
“We’ve known each other since we could walk. What could be more natural?” He’d answered.
Kyle swallows thickly, coaxing her legs open through their squirming. Eating her up with just his eyes, stuck to the wet seam of her cunt.
He briefly considers diving right in, burying his mouth and nose until he suffocates, but he wants her worked up. Aching for it. So his eyes flick back to her tits, and his hands follow. He watches intently as he toys with her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers. He doesn’t miss a single twinge of her brow or inhalation. She’s good for him the whole time, hands stuck at her sides. She’s already clutching the sheets like a lifeline.
Soon enough, her mouth’s caught in a perpetual gasp, and he sinks back down to capture it in a languid kiss. He allows her to take the lead, rewarding her eagerness by letting her dictate its duration, and his chest cracks at the soft sigh she gives him in turn. With her thoroughly relaxed, he experimentally rocks his hips, letting his clothed tip gingerly bump against her clit. The fingers on his back muscles tense and dig in, but the little shiver he feels pass through her chest into his makes him smile into her mouth.
He withdraws, tongue passing over his lips as he reclines. Breathing heavily, he tilts his head, palming his cock.
“Touch yourself. Show me how you like it.”
“Kyle,” she pouts. “That’s not—can’t you just…?”
“No can do, babe. Don’t want to make a mess of this, ‘least not yet,” he smirks, ignoring the small smack she delivers to his knee. “I want to see what you do. Everyone’s different.”
“Don’t remind me of how many people you’ve slept with.”
Attitude is a defense mechanism. A cute defense mechanism but a barrier all the same. He pulls further back, delighting in the deepening of her frown. She needs to learn.
“And you don’t give me that lip. Touch yourself. I know you know how. No way you’ve neglected that pretty pussy for so long.”
She huffs and complains a minute more but rewards his patience. One hand snakes down and tentatively rubs her clit, movements stiff, still shy, and tucks a finger into her hole. It’s adorable, the shallow plunge. It’s a miracle she’s ever gotten off before, what with how unsatisfying it looks compared to what Kyle knows he can give her. Will give her.
His focus shifts back to her face as he slowly discards his pants, needing to free his cock with the sounds her finger makes in her hole. He watches her eyes widen as it bobs free, tracking every move as he maneuvers atop the bed, stripping them off entirely.
“Like what you see, babe?”
“Y-Yeah.” The way she lifts her gaze seems mechanical.
Already leaking, his cock twitches in his palm on an upstroke. He hasn’t slept with a virgin in so long—he’d forgotten what that meld of hunger and curiosity looks like. She doesn’t look away at the slick sound of his pre spreading over his head under his thumb, nor when there’s an audible, wet suction around her finger. She bites her lip, eyes watering. Sweet thing. So close to grasping what she’s been missing.
“Add another.” She hesitates but complies, and he nearly comes watching the pinch of her face as she dips a second finger into pussy. “Ah, no. Keep looking at me, angel. That’s right. Focus on the feeling.”
And like that, slow and steady, he talks her into a third.
“It hurts.” she whines, despite the weak buck of her hips into her hand.
If you think that hurts sits on the curl of his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. The backs of his fingers are drenched in precome. More than once, he’s had to pause. “I know, but it’ll ease up. I’m bigger than two of your fingers.”
“Then why don’t you,” she gasps, eyes briefly fluttering shut. “Why don’t you use yours?”
He’d like to. Truly. The thought makes him dizzy. But that would require him to be a better man than he is, if only she’d brought this up four, five years earlier. His fingers can go another day.
“Because,” his jaw works. He’s well aware of the knife’s edge he walks. Everything he says before he’s inside her is a coin flip. “I don’t want my fingers to be the first part of me inside you, babe.”
Her eyes widen a fraction, and to his relief, she moans. “Fuck, Kyle, that’s…That’s so…”
“I know.” He grins.
She ends up stuffing her pussy with four fingers, the last digit tucks in without his urging. He stops her after her breath hitches. She pouts again.
“Shouldn’t I come first? Before–?”
“You’re wet enough, believe me,” He teases. It’s a little mean, but he’s impatient. He’s never been able to maintain the same stillness his job requires out of the field. “I think you’re ready. Feel ready?”
Kyle barely kills a smug smile as she firmly presses her lips together before finally eking out a yes, steady but thin. Her shoulders are loose, but her slick fingers curl nervously over her belly like she’s trying to hold herself together. Her eyes flicker with something she’s trying hard not to show, something just beneath the surface, but she keeps her face neutral.
The sense of satisfaction is a small thrill. Not from her answer but from knowing he’s got her this far.
He chucks her chin as it dips, lowering his own to keep their eyes level. “You know I’ll be gentle, right? As much as I can? You trust me, don’t you?” He makes a show of opening and rolling on the condom. It’s a small travesty, but he’ll get her on the pill soon enough. If anything, it makes her less likely to back out.
As she nods, he lays her back. Listens to her intently. “I know, I know.” She mumbles, but her eyes snap to his cock, its weight resting in the crease of her thigh.
“Don’t worry, relax.” he whispers, brushing his lips against hers, then pressing into a kiss. He takes advantage of a gasp to deepen it, moving his hips and adjusting his cock to let it slip over her folds. He groans, nudging her clit with its head. She’s soaking, radiating pure heat.
This is the part where he should reassure her, say “If it hurts too much, or if you want me to stop, tell me.” He doesn’t. He’s gone years thinking this was out of reach. Impossible. ‘Natural’, he told her. Same as ‘inevitable’, he thinks.
Bracing himself on one arm, he guides his cock to her hole, eyes drilling into where his tip disappears. Just a hint, enough to make sweat break out along his neck. Warmth flows from her sex, as inviting as a hearth. Notched, he starts to push in, fingers leaving his length to return to her clit. Standby mode for when—
“Shh, you’re alright,” it’s automatic when a pitiful whine escapes. He looks from her wide eyes to the crease between her brows and parted lips. “Fuck, it’s so good, babe. You’re alright.” He kisses her chin and jaw, the corners of her open maw, as another uncertain, wavering noise strikes high from her throat.
He pauses to kiss her deeply again, swallowing a few more gasps as he lets her adjust a bit. He toys with her clit, continuing his push. Her nails bite into his shoulders, and she whimpers a weak apology against his mouth that makes his chest ache and restraint slip. He burrows in a few inches all at once.
His sudden burst punches a loud, surprised sound out of her, one that puffs right past his ear. She pants against the shell, muttering over and over as she adjusts around him.
“Ohgodohgodohgod—“
He quiets her with more kisses, eventually getting her to take it down an octave and use her words.
His arm burns from flexing, muscles working to keep him partly hovering above her, sweat dripping from his brow. She’s so unbelievably tight, wet, and molten around his cock. It’s everything he’s wanted and more. A slice of heaven gifted to him, made for just him. No one else. She might go on to sleep with other people—hopefully not, if he plays this right—but he’s the one she will remember.
“Kyle…S’big,” she slurs, lips moving against his cheek.
“You’re alright,” he repeats with a chuckle, a sample of the loud, mad laugh he feels tickling his throat. Triumphant. “Talk to me. How else do you feel?”
“It didn’t—It’s…weird?” She echoes a delirious giggle, twinging when he shifts his weight. She doesn’t look too sure. “But…”
“But what?”
“Can you keep touching…y-yeah, like that.”
He smirks, kisses her, and hastens the circles on her clit. He decides he can grind for a bit and find every last inch he can claim. Slowly but surely, her breathing levels and her cunt gives up territory. Lets him in until his balls are flush with the cushion of her ass.
“There we go, look at that.” He pulls back slightly to admire where he ends, and she begins, the smell of sex and sweat dizzying. “No convent for you.”
She lets out a shaky breath, one hand letting go of him to scrub over her eyes in giddy disbelief. “Thank God.”
“Thank me.”
That gets him a swat, but the hand that strikes scrambles around his arm when he pulls out and snaps back in. Beyond that, there’s not much talking. Not much thinking, either. Rapture gradually twists her face, and he practically watches any traces of her earlier shyness and embarrassment fly out the window.
A frisson runs down her spine, a sharp, electric shudder that tells him he’s found the right spot. He adjusts accordingly, setting course to hit with each thrust, and rubs her clit in tandem. Her knees knock against his sides, pressing, mirroring her cunt’s clenching and fluttering.
“‘M close, Kyle, I’m close—”
“I know, can feel it. You’re strangling me, shit, you feel good—come on, angel.”
Every roll of his hips makes her moan and gasp, the sounds climbing higher and higher. His shoulders are numb where her nails hold on like the pain’s settled beneath the surface or fled from pleasure. When her legs dig into his side and hold, he drops closer again, speeding up his fingers to draw her even tighter around his cock.
His name leaves her mouth broken over the sharp edge of a wail as she comes hard, body spasming beneath him, squeezing the life out of him. She goes lax after a moment, save for her hands, still holding on with a feather-light strength. Her teary eyes crack open and dart across what must be an ugly look of conquest on his face. He wonders in the seconds before he fills the condom if she sees the devotion there, too, or if it’s eclipsed by all his coveting.
After, she thanks him with a kiss so tender, his cock stirs. Laying face to face, entangled and intertwined, she feels it against her thigh and laughs tiredly.
“You joking? You’re insatiable.”
Kyle stares hard, chest heaving at the fleeting but vivid image of her on her knees floating through his head.
“You have no idea.”
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GETO SUGURU: ❛❛ SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE KISSIN' ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ your boyfriend can't be home for christmas? fine then, you'll just spend it with his best friend! but be prepared, 'cause your boyfriend's gonna be mad when he gets home. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. modern!au. best friend!gojo. degradation, spanking, p –> v, you guys are loud and you get walked in on! gojo gets slutshamed.. a lot. and he's very annoying!! also there's lots of borderline crack in this fic, have fun with that! 3.6k words, not proofread.
author's note: it's been a hottt minute since i've written for geto and i lowk forgot how to write him.. anyways.
“what do you mean, you’re not coming home for christmas?” you huff, hopping on your bed and lying on your stomach.
the man on the other end of the phone sighs exasperatedly, and you can almost see suguru massage his temples when he replies, “i have work, baby. i’m sorry, but i really can’t miss this chance to—”
it’s the night before christmas eve, and you just learned that suguru won’t be home in time to spend christmas with you—obviously, you were upset, because you’d been looking forward to spending the holidays with him. but to your dismay, holiday season’s always the busiest time of the year for businessmen like suguru.
“fine,” you groan, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you do so, and you mutter something about life not being fair as suguru lists all the reasons he can’t be home by christmas morning.
“i have a big meeting with some potential investors tomorrow, and there’s no way i’ll be back by the morning after,” suguru explains tiredly. you can hear the sleepiness in his voice, but the selfish part of you wants to keep him on the phone longer—it’s only seven, and you could easily spend the next couple hours convincing him to come home sooner.
“but suguru—” you try, even though you know nothing’ll convince him at this point.
“i’m sorry, honey,” he interrupts. after a moment, suguru’s voice softens and he continues, “i just can’t make it home by christmas. we can spend the day after together, though—i think i’ll be free for the rest of the week.”
you roll off the bed, stuffing one hand in the pocket of your hoodie—suguru’s hoodie—as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a mug of hot chocolate. the other hand still holds your phone to your ear, and you swallow back the rest of the protests you have to suguru’s absence.
“anyways, i gotta go,” suguru murmurs, obviously suppressing a yawn. “love you, baby. n’ i’m sorry, but i really can’t do anything about it.”
he hangs up before you can reply.
almost instantly, you dial satoru’s number—he’s probably the only other person you and suguru both trust enough to confide in about your problems, and like always, satoru picks up right away.
“hey, satoru?”
“heyyy, i already heard about it from suguru,” satoru replies, and there’s some suspicious squelching sounds in the background. are those grunts, too?
“uh, what are you doing?” you ask tentatively, hopping on the counter and sitting with your back pressed against the wall. the oddly wet sounds continue for a couple more seconds, and then they stop. “satoru?”
“shit, sorry, i was in the middle of something,” he replies with a breathless laugh. “yeah, i’m done now. wanna see?” your phone lights up with an invitation to facetime, and you hit the ‘x’ immediately.
“no, i don’t want to see whatever the fuck you’re doing,” you grumble, ignoring his laughter. “you’re disgusting, i’ll call you ba—”
“no, i’m free, i’m free!” satoru interrupts, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “suguru won’t be back for christmas, right?”
you pause and sigh, closing your eyes for a second. “yeah, he won’t be.”
“and you want a way to get him to come back sooner, right?”
“yep. you have anything in mind?” you ask, half-hoping that satoru’ll be able to come up with some genius plan to get your boyfriend to fly back here to make it in time for christmas. but if you’re being honest, you know that there are very few things that could convince suguru to drop his supposedly important meeting and come straight home.
and somehow, satoru devises a plan that makes you certain he will.
————
the next morning, you receive a text from suguru asking you to facetime—under normal circumstances, you’d just ask him to call instead since you’re at a cafe, but not today. today, you want him to see you and your mischievous little plan, so you eagerly accept.
“hey, sweetheart,” suguru says the second the call connects. his dark hair is pulled back into its usual half-down half-up style, and he props up his phone on something to use his reflection to adjust his tie. “how are y— wait, is that satoru’s jacket?”
you smile innocently and turn the phone to show satoru, who’s sitting just across from you at the table by the window. after satoru’s taken his time to wave and blow a kiss to suguru (who rolls his eyes in response), you turn the phone back and say, “oh, i just got a little cold. it’s pretty chilly down here!”
suguru frowns, brown eyes narrowing at your cheeky expression. “very funny. why didn’t you just bring your own jacket? or one of mine?”
oh, this is the question you’ve been waiting for. you shrug off satoru’s rather comfortable jacket and show suguru the tight, long-sleeved shirt you’re wearing underneath it. the fabric hugs your skin in a way that shows off all your curves, and even better, it’s a light shade of blue that’s somewhere in between the color of satoru’s eyes and hair.
“i did! but then it just got so cold and satoru was nice enough to offer me his jacket,” you say nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way suguru’s jaw tightens. you flutter your eyelashes innocently and smile at suguru, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes focus on your outfit.
“you jealous?” satoru chimes in, snatching the phone out of your hand and posing in front of it, admiring himself in the camera.
“no,” suguru mutters, but it wouldn’t take a genius to tell that he’s just lying through his teeth. satoru grins in response, making a peace sign with his hand and winking.
“good, ‘cause i’m gonna be hangin’ out with her all day long!” satoru cooes, blowing suguru another kiss before you swipe your phone back out of his hand.
“is he joking?” suguru grumbles, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed. you shrug in response, not buying his cool and collected persona. you know suguru better than most, and the subtle way his shoulders tensed the second he saw you in satoru’s jacket gave it all away.
“nope,” you reply, soft lips tugging themselves into a little smile. “we might spend christmas together too, ‘cause you won’t be here. but i guess i don’t really mind anymore—satoru’s good company!”
satoru covers his mouth to hide his laughter at your comment, giving you a thumbs-up when suguru doesn’t reply. your boyfriend says something about already being late and having to go, and this time, you’re the one who hangs up.
“oh, we definitely got him,” you grin, smugly lifting your mug of hot cocoa and clinking it with satoru’s in a celebratory expression. satoru hums in agreement before he takes a sip of his cocoa, face growing pink at the sudden warmth.
“so, how long d’you think it’ll be until suguru texts you that he’s on his way?” satoru asks, leaning back in his chair and blowing on his cup to cool off the smoking-hot liquid.
“hopefully soon.”
“i’m betting on… three hours.”
three hours later, you don’t get a single text from suguru. four hours later, nothing. on the fifth hour, you finally receive a message from him, but it’s just a “how are you?”
“was that not enough?” you whine, half-looking at your phone as you walk through the mall with satoru. “how else can i convince sugu to come back by tomorrow?”
satoru shrugs, pulling the red lollipop he got from a toy shop’s cashier out of his mouth. “i mean, we tried jealousy, so how ‘bout we go the other route?”
you tilt your head curiously, waiting for satoru to elaborate.
“y’know, why don’t ya tempt him in… other ways?” satoru wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and your face grows warm despite the chilly air around you.
“satoru…” you pause, face unreadable as you stop walking and turn to him. satoru holds his breath in anticipation, waiting for your verdict.
“that’s a really good idea.”
————
and that’s how you ended up in a clothing store, sifting through hundreds of dresses in search of one that’d be alluring enough to draw suguru back home.
“what color does he like on you?” satoru asks, seemingly oblivious to the strange looks he’s receiving from the other people in the store as he examines handfuls of dresses with interest. “red? black? white?”
you shrug, running your fingers over a form-fitting dress the color of suguru’s eyes. “i dunno, do you think he’d like this?”
satoru turns, takes one look at the dress, and instantly grabs it. “c’mon, let’s get you into a dressing room.”
the second you and satoru get there, the dressing room attendant gives you both a weird look. her eyes settle on satoru, and she asks, “weren’t you just here a week ago with another girl?”
satoru’s face goes redder than you’ve ever seen it. “uh, yeah, i was. oh, this one’s my best friend’s girlfriend, not mine—”
you shove him aside and hand the dress to the attendant, smiling bashfully. “just trying on this one, thanks.”
the attendant eyes satoru suspiciously and then nods. “okay, but he doesn’t get to go inside. last time, we got a noise complaint from the other customers.”
if you thought satoru’s face was red before, now it’s a shade redder than you knew was possible. in fact, you’re almost considering sending him to the hospital to get checked on as you close the dressing room door behind you and try the dress on.
it’s a little tight, but that’s expected given the skin-hugging fabric. after a couple minutes, you turn and admire yourself in the mirror—the dress, thankfully, fits perfectly. the fabric accentuates your features in the best way possible, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from staring in the mirror any longer.
“how do i look?” you ask, stepping out of the dressing room and doing a twirl for satoru. his jaw drops, and he nods instantly.
“yeah, this is the one,” satoru affirms, taking out his phone. “want me to be the one to send the pics to suguru? that way we can still make him jealous!”
you give him a thumbs-up and blow a kiss at the camera, trusting satoru to take a flattering picture before you head back into the room to change out. on your way out of the store, you buy the dress at the counter—knowing suguru, he wouldn’t reply to satoru’s text, but you just knew he was dying to see you in that in person.
————
later that night, well after satoru’s gone back to his house and you’re relaxing in your own, suguru texts you again.
sugu: can we call?
you grin and roll over onto your back, nestling yourself deeper into your pillows before you dial his number. it only rings once before he picks up, and he instantly asks if satoru’s still with you.
“nah, he went home,” you say offhandedly, toying with the corner of your sheets. “did you like my dress?” you ask coyly, enjoying the way suguru pauses for a long second before replying.
“yeah, it looked good on you.”
“that’s it?”
“it really brought out your eyes.”
you bite your tongue to suppress a groan, instead opting to bury your face in a pillow instead. you had just spent the past twenty-four hours running around in circles, doing everything possible to get suguru to come back, and that’s all you get? really?
“anyways,” suguru continues, and you hear a soft rustling sound in the background—if you had to guess, he’s probably in bed right now. “how was your day, baby?”
“good,” you respond briskly, a soft scowl appearing on your face. suguru, being as observant as he is, picks up on the subtle change in your tone, but he doesn’t say anything. “satoru and i had a really good day. how was yours?”
suguru pauses before answering. “i missed you.”
“then come home, sugu,” you plead, even though you know that there’s no way he’ll be back in time. but it’s worth a try, right?
“you know i can’t,” suguru murmurs, exhaling softly. “no way can i get a flight back this late and make it back by tomorrow morning. i—”
“then get a sleigh!” you huff indignantly, unable to resist smiling when you hear suguru laugh. “please, sugu? christmas won’t be christmas without you.”
“just spend it with satoru,” suguru mutters under his breath, and that’s when you realize that your efforts haven’t entirely been in vain. he’s obviously sour that you spent the whole day with his best friend instead of him, and a small spark of hope starts to fester in your heart.
“maybe i will,” you reply coyly, and you can hear your own smile in your voice—and you’re sure that suguru can hear it too. “anyways, i’m a little tired. good night, baby.”
“night.”
————
the next day, you host a party in your otherwise empty house—after all, it’s christmas, and it’d be rather depressing for you to spend it alone. so you invite satoru, satoru’s friends, and their friends, and so on. word gets around fast, and people show up in droves.
which is why you don’t notice when suguru himself slips in through the back door.
you’re giggling with satoru and his stoic friend kento when they both stop laughing, and you look up at them, confused. “what is it?” you ask, sipping the sweet liquid in your glass with a smile.
“suguru?” satoru asks, lips tugging themselves into a wide smile. “guess you didn’t wanna spend christmas alone, yeah?”
you turn around, half-expecting satoru to be joking. but to your surprise, your dark-haired boyfriend stands in front of you, smiling dryly. you stare at him for a solid two seconds, certain that you’re hallucinating. “sugu? but i thought—”
“thought you could mess around with my best friend?” suguru muses, arching one of his eyebrows. his suit’s a little wrinkled, and his hair’s more disheveled than normal, but somehow, he seems more alert than ever. suguru’s amber eyes go from yours to satoru’s wide blue ones, and satoru shrinks away from him with a nervous smile.
“i’m gonna go,” kento says offhandedly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving you, satoru, and suguru alone in the living room.
“hey, bro, it was her idea!” satoru says instantly, raising his hands as if he’s a burglar in front of the police. you turn to him in disbelief, scoffing indignantly at his pitiful attempt to get out of trouble.
“no, it was your idea!” you insist, jabbing your finger at satoru. he gasps dramatically and pretends to faint, to which you roll your eyes good-naturedly. you turn back to suguru, rounding your eyes in an attempt to gain his favor. “i swear, sugu, this was all satoru’s idea!”
“you liar,” satoru grumbles, crossing his arms and huffing childishly. you turn and glare at him, and coupled with suguru’s unimpressed look, it’s enough to scare satoru off.
and now it’s just you and suguru, alone in your mint-scented living room. christmas pop plays in the background from another room, and maybe it’s just the dim lighting but you swear you can see suguru’s face go a shade redder than before.
“hey,” you mumble, averting your eyes.
“hey,” suguru replies. he smiles, and just like that, all his features soften. “don’t you want to know how i got here so fast?” he drawls, reaching out and brushing something off your shoulder. his fingers trail down from your shoulder to your collarbone, which is all the more prominent thanks to the dress you’re wearing. incidentally, it’s the same dress you had sent suguru a picture of yesterday—maybe that’s why he can’t take his eyes off you.
“yeah, how did you get here so fast?” you ask curiously, suppressing a shiver as his fingers trace your figure down to your waist. suguru’s eyes go from your dress to your face, and he grins.
“well, i had to leave right before my meeting started and bribe some passengers with a shit-ton of money for their seats,” suguru starts, taking you by the hand and leading you to your shared room. “and believe me, it was a lot of money. and most people still said no, ‘cause they want to be with their families for the holidays.”
he makes a face as he pushes open the door, and stops in his tracks. your face grows warm as you realize that you had set up your room for him too—it’s illuminated with soft candlelight, the linen sheets are changed, and you—oh, you look perfect in suguru’s eyes. it takes a great deal of his willpower to stop himself from fucking you right there and then.
“oh, yeah, it was a lot of money,” suguru continues, smiling down at you coyly. “between the deal i just fucked up and the ridiculous amount of bribes i had to make, i think you owe me.”
suguru makes his way over to your bed and sits, spreading his legs and showing off his growing erection. you grin, following him and sitting in his lap. “did you miss me, sugu?”
“damn right i did.”
and barely a minute or two later, he’s got you face-down ass-up in the sheets, a calloused hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your increasing moans. “shh, wouldn’t want our guests to hear ya,” suguru whispers, breath hot against the side of your face.
you squirm underneath him, mind hazy from the feeling of his dick buried in you for the first time in.. how long? does it matter? “s-sugu, please fuck me,” you mumble, pretending not to notice the way he hasn’t bothered doing anything to you besides use you as his personal cockwarmer.
in the short time he’s been inside you, suguru’s barely moved—and fuck, he enjoys watching you squirm around and beg him to do more than just.. nothing.
“sugu, plea—”
he cuts you off with a slap to your ass, relishing the lewd whine that slips out of your lips in reply. “fuck, you thought y’could get me back here by fuckin’ with my best friend?” suguru cooes, shifting his hips.
“we didn’t—”
“yeah, no shit, baby,” suguru interrupts dryly. “otherwise this’d be a lot worse for you—and for him.”
suguru’s dark eyes flit over to where the dress you bought lies, discarded somewhere in the corner of your room. he grins and uses his hand to turn your head, gesturing at the fabric. “and i bet he was the one who gave you the idea to do whatever the fuck that was,” suguru drawls, clicking his tongue. “tell me, whose idea was it to have him send me that pic? yours, or his?”
when you don’t reply, suguru sighs dramatically and grabs your hair, pulling your head up enough for him to lean down and whisper in your ear, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you just answer—the—question,” suguru breathes, punctuating each word with another slap to your ass.
“it wasn’t m-mine!” you cry, looking up at suguru with shiny, rounded doe eyes. “i just wanted to—”
suguru cuts you off by pulling out of your drenched cunt just enough to allow him enough space to go back in, and his thrust is harsh and hits all the right places inside of you. your walls clench around him, and shit, suguru realizes that he missed fucking you like this more than anything else in the world.
“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he hisses, shifting his hips again to allow himself more space to move. “did ya not touch yourself at all while i was gone?”
“n-no,” you stutter, swallowing another pornographic sound from escaping your lips. “i waited for you, sugu,” you gasp, feeling him hit spots you haven’t felt throb in a painfully long time. and fuck, you’re so out of practice that affer just a few thrusts, you’re mewling all over his cock and whining about how you’re close to cumming.
your vision gets speckled with spots of white as thoughts of suguru take up every corner of your mind, even as he teases you for getting so close so fast. but it’s not your fault you’re about to cum faster than you’ve ever done—you’ve tried fucking yourself with your fingers on times when suguru was out for work, but he’s spoiled you with his dick more than you can imagine.
and that’s why you cum all over his cock in what has to be a record-breaking time, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you mumble indecipherable words.
“aw, look at you,” suguru murmurs, stroking your hair as you tremble underneath him. even though it’s unbearably cold outside, it feels scorching hot in here—but maybe that’s because of both of your heaving chests in the aftermath of your orgasm.
“‘m sorry, sugu,” you mumble hazily, and suguru chuckles in response.
“it’s alright, baby,” he responds lightly. “y’know i like fucking your bratty cunt dumb every once in a while, heh.”
you two lie there, basking in each other’s presence for a little while longer before the bedroom door creaks open. and to your horror, satoru stands there, seemingly bored by the whole scene.
“can you two keep it down?” satoru groans, dragging a hand down his face. “we’re trying to have a karaoke competition, but you guys keep going agh—”
suguru hurls a pillow at satoru, cutting off his mocking moan. “you’re next, asshole,” suguru grumbles, getting off of you and covering you with the sheets.
“you’re gonna fuck me next? wow, what happened to hi, hel— oww, okay, i’m going, i’m going!”
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