#don't let him into the kitchen either

[v-valor]

This is the car getting revenge on Leon after the countless vehicles he's destroyed with his shitty driving.

[watch-out-it-bites]

I believe I deserve a sweet little treat [He has done nothing important for the past week]

[imwritesometimes]

I think felix like sprained one of his back legs 😔

[nochepsicodelica]

Just thoughts of Toji being the most clingy, obsessed, bear boyfriend ever. You could be getting up from the couch to go get something to snack on from the kitchen and he'll hum and click his tongue like that's a no no, not even looking up at you when you stand, as he asks "where are you going?" in his deep voice. It makes you sit down again, but if he feels you're even an inch off from where you sat before, he'll fix that so quickly, bringing you right back to where you were, thigh to thigh with him.

Even when you're sleeping he likes to keep you attached to him. He either tangles his legs with yours or puts his leg over your hip when he's spooning you. If you're sleeping facing him, he keeps a hand on your back and digs his palm in so that you're pressed as close as you can comfortably be against him.

Oh, but mornings are a task and a half with him. It's hard enough to escape his arms because when you do manage to get out, he catches you by the hem of your shirt, not caring if it gets stretched out, and pulls you right back into his arms and doubles down on strapping you tightly in his hold by wrapping his forearm around your bare waist and keeping one of your legs locked between his. He grunts when you successfully escape, and roll out of bed. He's squinting, barely opening his sleep ridden eyes to look at you, yet he's dead set on luring you back into bed with him. He taps his hand on the space directly in front of him and mumbles a low "Come back" that brings you back, even if it made you roll your eyes. If you don't get back into bed, he follows you around all grumpy and groggy. Rests his chin in his palm all sleepy as he sits down and watches you make breakfast.

Speaking of food, he will not get out of the way when you're cooking. He's that attached to you. You're cutting vegetables and he has his arms wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head. If you cut yourself because you're trying to move too fast, he's dragging you over to the kitchen sink to rinse off the cut and wrapping your finger in a paper towel just for the time it takes him to run to the bathroom and get a bandaid. Will mumble into your ear, telling you to slow down when you start rushing your chopping again. Hums into your neck as you put all the prepped ingredients into a big pot. He ignores the stressed sighs you let out as you try to jump from space to space with him latched onto your back. King of "can I try it?" You tell him no and every five minutes he goes "can I try it now?" "How about now?" "Smells good. Now?"

Small NSFW section

During sex, he likes getting all the skin to skin he can get with you. Doggy style? He's leaning his body over your back and holding onto your tits as he rams into you. You're riding him? He has his hands on your hips, his forearms resting on your thighs. During missionary, he runs his hands all over your body, but since he wants to look at you as you lose your mind over how he fucks you, he refrains from leaning into you unless it's for the purpose of kissing or marking up your body. Loves prone bone because he gets to weigh you down and slowly make love to you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear in that honey-like voice.

Yeah... just Toji being a suffocating, clingy bear.

[webism]

pornstar!shiu who started out as your agent. he’d book your gigs, stand and watch with cigarette in hand as you were fucked on film for a fat check that he’d take a cut of.

pornstar!shiu who would take you out for celebratory drinks after landing larger acts—be it a shoot for a dirty magazine or a collaboration with the current biggest name in adult film. shiu is good at getting you in—and he doesn’t much mind watching your artwork either.

pornstar!shiu who helps you set up a secondary source of income: an onlyfans. he helps you garner an audience, set your prices and start looking for guest stars. he lines a few up, lets you pick from them and even pours them a drink when they come over to film. shiu lets you have privacy with these shoots, but insists on staying in the house just in case anything goes sideways: they never do, though. most of the guys you film with are put off by the look shiu gives them when they first walk in. mean.

pornstar!shiu who slowly starts to get sick of accommodating the men you film with. it's just work, sure, but he doesn't get jealous like this of the girls that his other client Toji works with. he doesn't watch their videos back on repeat to make sure their hands don't wander where they aren't welcome. he doesn't fuck his fist at night thinking about him. it's just a you thing.

pornstar!shiu who gets an email one day from a well known pornstars agent practically begging to hitch up a collab between you and him. satoru gojo is a name shiu has heard plenty times before, be it through the business side of being your agent or through his computer speaker when he's edging himself to mindless porn in the dead of night. he knows he fucks good, seen it first hand.

pornstar!shiu who knows you're excited for this shoot, to finally get to try out the guy known for giving real orgasms in hopes of a more raw shoot. shiu almost feels bad when he tells you, twenty minutes before your shoot, that gojo can't make it. that he's sick with something nasty and you'll have to reschedule if his calendar opens up for you.

pornstar!shiu who listens to you whine about how you promised your online audience something good tonight. nods as you beg for him to find someone else on such short notice. he pretends to scroll through his phone and send a few texts as you stress your pretty mind over leaving your followers hanging. shiu can't help but smile at your desperate pout when he tells you that no one can make it on such short notice... but that he does have another idea, albeit an unconventional one.

pornstar!shiu who, within twenty minutes, has your face pressed into your pillows and his hand forcing your arch so he can fuck you just that little bit deeper. the moans you let out, even though they're muffled by your satin pillow, are nothing short of pornographic. it's fitting, and pulls a smile onto shiu's face because he's hearing better moans from you than he thinks gojo could ever pull. and god you feel better than he'd ever imagined: he wonders how he'll ever lay down for another person again know that he's felt you wrapped around his cock.

pornstar!shiu who insists it's just a favour: just work. he's given you five orgasms and a dirty movie to show for it too. you two fuck for an hour and he showers at your place before helping you edit and post it over dinner. it's casual, nothing awkward, but when the comments start rolling in about this new man that makes you cum like none other has, you swear he blushes.

pornstar!shiu who quickly becomes a regular on your page. goes from being your agent to somewhat of a partner in film. over the course of a few weeks, you have more money than you know what to do with: people keep subscribing to watch you cum on his cock in the mindless way it seems only he can pull from you. your library grows daily, with videos of him fucking you on the kitchen counter, whipped cream eaten straight from your chest, to videos from his perspective as he takes drags of a cigarette while you get your fix from your lips wrapped around his thick cock. he's somewhat of a pornstar himself now.

pornstar!shiu who, for someone who insisted this was just work, gets into the habit of kissing you through your orgasms. or conveniently forgetting to press record so that your marathon sex session on his couch stays for his eyes only. or starts leaving things at your house on the off chance to have someone else over to film with, so they'll see his hair gel or large shoes by the front door and realise you're spoken for, even if he doesn't have the right to speak for you.

pornstar!shiu who's asleep in your bed one night, his cock still nestled deep inside of you after making love to you for the first time. you're littered with lovebites and your mind is hazy with feelings you never thought you'd have for your agent of all people. the night is dark, and as you're cockwarming the man who is much more than just a co-star to you, your phone dings. he stirs, and you check it to find a message from Satoru Gojo, who is asking after you. he says he's upset you didn't get to film together the other week but he hopes you're feeling better. your sickness seemed pretty nasty, from what your agent said when he cancelled on your behalf.

what a shame!

[thephantomsdream]

"If you keep staring at me like that, I'll have to ask you what are we?" Imagine being the witness of a serious crime, but the team thought you were involved somehow and needed to rule you out. Cue to big, scary, mysterious, masked Ghost trying to intimidate you by existing near you.

Soap snorts and pats Ghost on the back, which earns a glare from him, all after the man blinked confused. He had pretty eyes. Gaz moves to a corner to smile way too much, and Price sighs loudly.

After a few more minutes of explaining that you were just on your way to your shitty job and that they needed to wrap this up before you are to inevitably getting fired, Ghost still looks straight into your soul, now with more intensity somehow.

At this point, you grit your teeth. You might legit not have a job after this, since you're already half an hour late, and this (weirdly cute) fucker is trying to read your thoughts.

"Oh, you're really into me, aren't you?" He blinks seemingly uninterested and you raise a brow at him, starting a staring contest until Price (as he previously introduced himself) got in between you two.

"I don't think you understand the situation that you're in." It took all of your will to not groan like a child and roll your eyes at him.

Cue to another round of you doubling down and explaining that you're extremely lame but a good person, all while Gaz still looks you up.

"She might be telling the truth, boss." He whispered to Price in the corner of the abandoned shop they broke onto to have some privacy. The man has been trying to confirm your identity all this time, meanwhile you looked up at your number one fan to say "I told you so" and gave him an exasperated sigh when you already caught him intensely staring into your eyes.

"Seriously..." You mutter and you almost believe seeing a crinkle of amusement in his eyes. Your eyes almost twitched. "I pronounce us husband and wife." You say, rolling your eyes at him. Yeah, take that, fuck-face. You childishly thought, absolutely thriving at his slow, surprised blink. Soap cackled and tried to hide it with a cough.

Long story (not) short, you were indeed let go after Gaz confirmed you're broke, lame and basic. No secret villain or anything. After they kinda apologized, Price basically tried to gaslight you into thinking everything is fine then tried to dip his toes into mansplaining the importance of greater things beyond you, he nodded to himself and patted you on the back before barking an order to his soldiers to move. Pretty brown eyes stayed glued onto your soul until you were pretty much skipping away out of sight, rushing to your job incredibly annoyed.

You couldn't really explain your absence to your boss and he didn't care much either, he told you to get to work.

Surprise, surprise, though, because at the end of your shift, he sugarly informed you that you're fired. He gave you the pay he owed you and there you were. Jobless. And probably homeless in a month's time.

A week later and some intense job hunting done, you're at your wit's end, truly. Job market is shit and nobody is looking to hire. As you enter your ratty apartment, you sigh and almost want to cry in frustration. You've been cursing the terrorists, soldiers and any motherfucker involved in last week's incident, entering your kitchen to grab a drink and eat some air since you needed to save money, when you froze in place.

In the middle of your tiny living room stood a massive dark frame, the outside lights shining through the balcony door behind him made the man unrecognizable. You were getting robbed. You just caught a dude right in the middle of robbing you. As if it was the cherry on top, every frustration you felt erupted out of you, and while you were still terrified by the massive frame, you growled a "Get the fuck out of my house."

A deep chuckle was your only response and you felt dread.

"You got spunk. And a shit survival instinct." He stepped closer. You stepped back immediately, calculating your route to the door, hoping he wouldn't be able to catch you. Denial. You knew. But you froze again in surprise. You knew that mask.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" It came more of a whisper, thinking you'd never meet those people again. Even standing up in front of him, he's massive. Maybe he came back for those dumbass comments you made. Oh, this is revenge, isn't it? He's built, he can legit destroy you with a punch. Oh, God, you're fucking dead. They still think you're a terrorist or some shit and he's here to destroy you out of existence.

Your mind rambled until he moved, and when he did, you tensed, mind blank. The man, the Ghost took a couple of steps towards you and placed his large hand on the back of your neck, pulling you close. Oh, you're gonna fucking die for sure. He leaned down to your eye level, making you stare into his dark eyes as he studied you.

"Came back to take care of my wife." He said. It was your turn to slowly blink at him. What?

[honeypiehotchner]

Juno (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hello again! This goes from zero to 100 in two seconds flat don't @ me!! Sabrina's new album came out and reawakened something in me (everyone say thank you Sabrina) (also this is not beta'd I wrote this in a short n' sweet haze)

Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation

WC: like 3,400 I lost my damn mind clearly

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you. Blame it on period hormones (probably) or the fact that Aaron looks absolutely delicious right now in his tight black t-shirt (most likely), but you’re going to go insane if either of you have clothes on for another five minutes. 

The problem is, Aaron is trying to focus. It’s one of his days where he works from home, an idea you gave him when you realized how easy it would be for him to do the same paperwork just from the comfort of your living room. It was a brilliant idea at first. You got to see him more, and were able to do your own thing around the house while he did his work. You got to have lunch together, and offer a genuine mental break in between his mountain of paperwork. 

Now, though, you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck about whatever needs to be signed, who needs to clear what, and what phone calls he still needs to make. 

“Honey,” you call sweetly from the kitchen. You watch him from over the island, your thoughts going all sorts of ways -- namely, deep into the gutter. “Want to break for lunch?”

You see Aaron shake his head, still typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“Brunch?” you try again, walking out of the kitchen. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest in the way you know he loves because of the view it gives him of your cleavage. And you’re wearing a v-neck shirt today for that exact reason, too.

Aaron still doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry honey, maybe in an hour?”

You let out a huff that you know he hears because he finally looks up, eyebrows raised just so. It’s a look that you love. Curious, veering toward that playful annoyance that you can’t seem to go a few hours without his undivided attention. 

Which, you can, by the way. You’re more than capable. It’s just that right now, it’s a crime that his eyes have been looking at paperwork when they should be looking at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s some hesitation in his voice. You know he’s assuming the worst. That you’re not okay mentally, and that’s why you need him to take his lunch break now or maybe for the rest of the day. He’s done it before on your darker days.

But you’re okay. You’re perfectly fine. You’d just be even better if he put the damn laptop away and put his fingers to use somewhere else.

Which is exactly why you come to a stop in front of him and reach forward, tilting his screen down and down until it closes. He lets you.

He lets you take his laptop and put it on the table beside the couch. He watches you, his fiery brown eyes taking in every second. He lets you straddle his hips, your arms circling his neck.

“I see now,” he smirks, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist and squeezing lovingly. “By ‘lunch break’ you mean…”

“Put a baby in me,” you blurt, rocking your hips against his.

He stills, his hands making you stop your movements, too. His eyes are darker now in a way you haven’t seen in a while. “What?”

“Please,” you say, leaning your forehead down onto his, trying to move your hips again. “Need you.”

“Honey, we can’t have--”

“Yes I know the semantics, Aaron,” you mutter, now annoyed and lifting your head to glare at him. He has a vasectomy, you get that. “I mean fuck me like you’re putting a baby in me.”

His hands squeeze again. “I see.”

You frown. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he smirks, one hand leaving your waist to stroke your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re horny.”

You roll your eyes, peeling yourself off his lap. He lets you go, albeit with a curious look. You turn and head for the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he calls out after you, still with that damn smirk lacing his words.

“To get myself off,” you reply in a deadpan. “Since someone--”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence before Aaron is right behind you, hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him. That look full of fire is back again, stern this time.

“Did I say you could do that?” he says in a low tone.

“Did I ask?” you retort, backing out of his grasp and darting into the bedroom. 

Now there’s a smirk on your lips. It’s quickly approaching shit-eating grin territory, which you know will only egg Aaron on further. This little game of cat and mouse happens to be your favorite, and he knows it.

You’re barely two steps into the bedroom when Aaron is attached to your back yet again, this time wrapping his arms around your waist, locking you in.

“Color?” he whispers, his lips right at your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine.

You groan. “Green. Neon green. So green, I need you to--”

He spins you again, this time backing you into the wall and attacking your lips. Finally, you think, though you know you’re in for it now. The thought has a grin crawling up your lips, and you’re unable to stop it.

“What’s so funny, hm?” he scolds, moving his lips to your neck instead, to the exact spot he knows makes you weak in the knees. Like clockwork, he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your knees buckling when he bites down just so.

“Nothing,” you manage through a moan, tipping your head back onto the wall. “Shit.”

“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know,” he says, but he’s smiling against your skin. “Can’t let me focus on work because you need me to fuck you.”

“In my defense,” you try, your hands scrambling for his shoulders, for something to ground you. “You didn’t fuck me this morning.”

“I fucked you last night,” he reminds you, as if you needed the reminder. It’s the reason you slept so soundly. “Was that not enough?”

You can’t help it; you laugh. 

He lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. The same question as before on his lips.

“Sorry, I thought you were joking,” you say. 

“You’re insatiable.” 

“Guilty,” you grin, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You make out against the wall for too long like two teenagers behind the bleachers at school. You hook one leg around his hips, pulling him in and grinding against his obvious erection. It’s enough to have him groaning into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with renowned vigor. 

You can feel how wet you’re becoming and fuck, neither of you have even taken a single article of clothing off yet.

Aaron notices, one hand traveling south without you paying attention, too busy relishing the way he licks into your mouth, stealing your every breath. The kissing becomes increasingly sloppy when he works his hand into your leggings, under the waistband of your underwear, and into you.

“Oh my god,” your back arches against the wall, pushing his fingers deeper. He doesn’t bother with one, starting right away with two, curling them when you grind harder.

“You’re soaking my hand,” he practically growls into the next kiss, adding a third finger after only a few thrusts. Your body accepts it willingly, always ready for him. “Jesus.”

“More,” you gasp, pushing him deeper. “Aaron, more, I’m serious--” Your words break off as he scissors his fingers, making your eyes roll back instantly.

“I can feel you already,” he smirks against your cheek, pressing a kiss there, an action so sweet and gentle compared to what the rest of him is doing. “Come on, honey. You’re cumming as many times as you want.”

That makes you inch closer to the edge at a frightening speed. He says you can cum as many times as you want, but what he means is he’s going to force as many orgasms out of you as he can. Until you tell him to stop or he decides you need a break. 

The thought of being an overstimulated mess in his embrace later has you climaxing against his fingers, your head falling onto his shoulder as his movements never cease, milking every last wave out of you. 

You lift your head in search of his lips again, which he willingly gives to you, his fingers slowing to soothing strokes as you whimper into his mouth. You’ve only had one orgasm and you already feel ruined. He can tell the way you tremble against him, so he checks in once more.

“Green?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You nod. “Green. You?”

He smirks. “Absolutely.”

He picks you up into his arms, inelegantly tossing you onto the bed behind you. You giggle as you bounce on the mattress, tugging your shirt over your head as he does the same to his. His hands move for his belt and you practically jump to the end of the bed, swatting his hands away.

“Since when is that your job?” you frown up at him, unbuckling his belt without looking.

He laughs, petting your head gently. “So sorry, you’re right.”

“What was that?” you tease. “I don’t think I heard you.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you smirk, pulling his belt out of the loops and tossing it somewhere. You don’t wait for him to reply before you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.

There’s just something about his dick. You hate that you love it, or maybe you don’t hate it at all. All you know is you need it in your mouth right now.

So, you do that, without any warning. Aaron thrusts forward into your mouth on pure instinct, not expecting you to wrap your lips around him so soon. You slide down the edge of the bed onto your knees, pulling him back to you by his thighs. 

You take your time, pushing his jeans and boxers down further. When you pull back for air, he steps out of them and kicks them elsewhere, returning to you quickly, knowing better than to keep you waiting. 

You swallow him down again, moaning around him in the way you know he loves. It takes all of two seconds before he gently holds the back of your head, asking silently for permission that you were already about to grant. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you squeeze his thigh twice. Go ahead.

The thing about Aaron fucking your face is that it took a while for him to do it as hard as you really wanted. He’s always so gentle, a quality that drew you to him initially. You love how gentle he can be. But you love it equally as much when he is rougher with you.

Like now, when he has you pinned against the bed, one hand on the back of your head as he fucks into your throat. It’s blissful, quite frankly, the way he feels, and you thank the universe every time for your lack of a gag reflex. 

He holds you there with a deep groan, and you feel him twitch in your throat once before he pulls you off entirely. You frown up at him, once again not getting what you wanted, but he doesn’t have any time for that.

He picks you up by your armpits, hauling you back onto the bed. Your leggings and underwear are gone in a single second, along with your bra. He’s crawling up your body and crowding your space before you have a second to protest that he wasn’t down your throat for near as long as you wanted him to be. 

All frustrations leave your mind the second he pushes inside of you, immediately sliding home, his hips flush against yours. 

It’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, the way he hits you so deep. Another thing it took him a while to be comfortable doing.

He’s not average sized by any means, and you’re the first to admit it made you salivate the first time you saw. The first time he fed himself into you and worried that he was hurting you, meanwhile you were clawing his back because you wanted more. It hurt for a moment, only an uncomfortable pressure because he was bigger than your vibrator, but as soon as you were used to the size of him, you wanted all of him.

He stays there, deep in you without moving for a moment, grinding against you. His lips attack yours again before he pauses to lean his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath.

“You drive me crazy,” he says on a shaky exhale.

You wrap your legs around him, thrusting your hips up to take him a little more. His hips stutter, pushing in the way you wanted him to, the way you know you can make him do involuntarily.

“Fuck,” he bites out, turning his attention to your neck again.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging. “Exactly. So why aren’t you moving?”

He nips at your neck. “Because if I move, I will cum right away.”

“Who said I only want you to cum inside me once?”

He groans again, fingers digging into your hips as you circle them, though he doesn’t try to stop you. “Greedy” is all he says, but he finally moves.

The thrusts are slow at first, Aaron clearly trying to pace himself. You can’t say you’re doing the same, already chasing your second high as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand reaches down to rub your clit, but is promptly smacked away by Aaron’s hand as he glares at you.

“Since when is that your job?” he echoes you from earlier, only this time, there’s more heat to it. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head to stop any other temptation. “Not this time.”

His thrusts pick up speed and depth, his body moving against yours in the exact way that makes you fall apart. It’s not often that he doesn’t let you cum from added clit stimulation -- not that you can’t without it; it just makes the high feel that much better -- but sometimes he does. It’s an ego trip for him as much as it is for you.

It also adds an unpredictable nature to it, which is why your second orgasm takes you by such surprise. You seize against him, your hands doing all sorts of squirming to try to break free of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you, and he doesn’t let up. You don’t realize why until you feel the warmth spreading into you as he reaches his own peak. 

You’ve clearly worked him up as much as you worked yourself up because his thrusts barely slow down, and he doesn’t soften inside of you. 

Instead, he pulls out only to flip you on your side, sliding in behind you and pulling your leg up and back over his hips. The action causes some of his cum to spill out of you, but you don’t have any time to focus on that before he fucks back into you. 

You’ve ceased to have any coherent thoughts as Aaron whispers dirty nothings into your ear, one arm wrapped around your body to keep you pinned against him. The pleasure doesn’t stop and at one point, you question if your second orgasm stopped at all or if it has continued this entire time.

Aaron reaches underneath the pillow where he knows he’ll find one of your vibrators because he heard you using it this morning. No, he didn’t fuck you this morning, but you fucked yourself, and truly, at 8am, he should’ve known you’d end up like this by eleven. 

Your mind doesn’t register what the sound means until the vibrator is pressed against your clit. Your body jerks, scrambling for some grounding, your hands finding it in wrapping them around his arm. 

He switches hands on the vibrator, so one hand is free to wrap around your throat. Your eyes roll back as soon as you feel the gentle pressure, your body practically going limp against him. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs directly into your ear, his thrusts slowing to deep strokes. “You’ve got a couple more in you.”

“A couple?” is all you manage to say, your hand squeezing his wrist so he knows to squeeze your throat a little more.

“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Is it too much?” His question is laced with just the right amount of pity that makes you shake your head against him. “I thought so,” he replies, switching the vibrator to a higher setting.

It sends you into your third orgasm instantly, squirming violently against him as he pushes into you deeper. He knows how much you love that, and loves how much you squeeze around him as he slides inside, fighting against your muscles that threaten to force him out. You’ve done it before, a mesmerized look on his face and yours when you both realized what happened. Since then, you told him you liked it more when he fought to stay inside. 

He takes the vibrator away as you calm down, his hips also pausing, keeping himself deep inside you. The pressure is soothing, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. His palm falls away from your throat, instead propping underneath your cheek.

It takes a few seconds before you feel yourself spasming around him. He chuckles against your back, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Still?”

You nod dumbly, rocking your hips again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I just-- Need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he soothes, pulling out again to roll you onto your stomach instead, one of your favorite positions.

You’re floating as you settle into the pillows, letting Aaron manhandle you wherever you need to be. You groan in your happy, blissed out state as he slides home again, draping himself over your back.

He is gentler now, knowing that’s exactly what you need at this point. The last orgasm he pulls from you is just as gentle, and he pushes deeper into you, letting you ride it out. 

He pulls your hips up and thrusts once, twice before he’s spilling into you. You didn’t realize he was that close again. The warmth is soothing this time as it spreads through you. 

Aaron leaves you only to settle behind you, spooning you once again. Your hand reaches behind you to find him, and he catches your wrist. 

“You need to rest,” he chides softly.

“I know,” you whimper. “Need you inside me.”

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck as he slides in again, still half-hard, but it’s enough. You settle down as soon as the weight of him is tucked inside you again. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you sleepily nod, pushing back into him so he holds you tighter. “Do you have to go back to work?”

He chuckles against you, sighing. “No, I’m done for the day, I think,” he says. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

That makes you laugh. “We need a better excuse.”

“Or I need to go back to working in the office.”

You roll your eyes. “Like that’ll make a difference.”

He shakes his head, his mind remembering the same memories that you are. The many lunch hours when you went to eat with him, and ended up with your back pressed into the couch, his tie stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go to sleep,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ll make us lunch when we wake up.”

“Perfect,” you smile, nuzzling into him. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he says, pressing little kisses to your neck and cheeks, wherever he can reach. “Now sleep.”

You’re already halfway there. The combination of him nestled inside of you and the post-orgasm exhaustion is enough to lull you into a restful sleep.

[ddejavvu]

Mean!Logan who fucks you dumb to the point all you know is how good he feels instead of Scott Summers 🤭🤭🤭

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, dumbification, dacryphilia, don't like, don't read.

"What's his name?" Logan asks thoughtfully, lips pursed as he waits for your response. You're quite unable to give him one at the moment- at least a coherent one, while his hips piston forward and back, driving his thick cock into you.

"Go on, tell me." Logan prods, bumping his nose into your temple. He's going at an impressive pace, grunting with each hefty thrust, "Do you even remember it?"

A cry escapes your lips as Logan pushes you over the edge, unceremoniously, mercilessly, and you claw at his biceps as you're thrust into your climax. Your brain shorts out with white hot pleasure, something like pain but sweeter searing in your belly as you unconsciously curl your hips up to meet Logan's cock easier. There's no point- he can't possibly go deeper - but your body moves instinctively. He feels so good that you need more.

"Cyclops ring a bell?" He asks, but your ears ring too loud for his voice to get through. Either that or your brain muffles it like wet cement is drowning your thoughts, and the only name etched into the thick sludge is Logan, Logan, Logan.

"Dickhead, maybe? Laser-brain, Goggles, One-Eye..." Logan lists his most frequently used nicknames for the mutant he'd caught cornering you in the kitchen, but all you can do is muffle your moans into the sweat-soaked fabric of Logan's wifebeater.

"Who did this to you?" He feigns concern, like he's interrogating you after a beatdown, his nose now trailing over the apple of your cheek as his lips ghost your own.

"I-aah! Logan," You whimper, now oversensitive to penetration.

"Yeah? Who?"

"Logan," You breathe, eyes bleary with tears as you breathe him in- the sight of his face, hard-set and firm. His smell- sweat and musk and sex all rolled into one. His touch, the constant pressure between your legs as he keeps his dick buried in your cunt, no longer moving his hips. His eyes- they're staring at you, drinking in the repeated moans of his name that come pouring from your mouth like blood from a wound.

"Smart girl." He says, and you're so out of your mind that you don't read the cruel sarcasm in it- the way he's teasing you as Scott's name has fled your near-vacant brain.

"Who else? Got another man in there?" Logan taps the side of your head, where your spinning brain works overtime, "No? What about in here?"

He places a hand on your pelvis, pressing down gently so that you feel the imprint of his dick inside of you clearer, harsher, more intense.

"Anyone else in here?" He asks, keeping steady pressure on your cunt until you squirm in penance, begging for mercy from his teasing.

"That's right. Keep it that way." He snarls, letting up on your pelvis and using the hand to cup your cheek, relishing in the way you thoughtlessly lean into it, so trusting, so devoted, "Mine's the only name you need to be sayin', sweetheart. Say his again and I'll make you wash your mouth out with my fuckin' dick 'till it's all you can taste for a week."

[1-ker0sene-1]

Poly 141 x Reader

Home is where you are

"What ye think she made this time?"

Johnny mumbles, dropping his head back against the seat behind him. Blinking tiredly up at the ceiling of the truck, a daydream clear in his eyes. Simon next to him stares out the window, sweat seems to practically seal his balaclava to his face.

"We'd be lucky if anything. It's three in the fucking morning.."

Kyle says from the passenger seat. Pursing his lips a bit.

"She should be sleeping.."

Price chuckles from the driver's seat, hand on the steering wheel, paying close attention to the road.

"She knows we're on our way home. If she made something. We'll be thankful."

His other hand is resting on Kyle's knee, his thumb rubs slow circles against him.

Simons foot taps on the floor of the car silently, brows tight together. The man just wants to go home, shower, eat whatever heaven you cooked and sink into that california king mattress. With all of you, all five of you together.

"Steaks."

He mutters.

"Hm?"

Johnny questions with a hum, Simon clarifies.

"On days we come home.. it's either steak or shepherds pie. She made shepherds pie last time so it's gonna be steak."

They all salivate at the damn thought.

"It's tha little things with ye huh Simon?"

Johnny smiles warmly, leaning on his shoulder.

It was another thirty minutes driving before they finally pulled into the secluded driveway. Their safehouse. Their home. Where you are. Filing out of the truck, bags over their shoulders. Covered in grime and dried blood, they didn't even let themselves clean up at base before going home to you. Walking forward, Simon slings an arm around Kyle's shoulder. Tucking the sargeant into his side as they walk to the house. Both Johns walking behind them, Price giving the younger a good slap on the back.

"Home, boys. Let's enjoy it while we can."

Price comes forward to unlock the front door, pushing it open for the four of them. Mumbling out a reminder to take off their shoes inside. Leaning down with a grunt to pull off his boots. The others doing the same. They can already smell what you're cooking, Simon was right. The smell of steaks is pretty clear, garlic butter, some kind of steamed vegetables and spices.

The house is clean. Warm. Low lighting, some candles lit. Everything about it screams home. John opens his mouth to call out for you, but he can feel his spine practically melt hearing you hum in the kitchen.

Johnny is the first stumbling forward, hopping on one leg as he throws off his remaining shoe. Eager to get back to you. Grinning as he comes around the corner into the kitchen. He melts. Seeing you there, in your chair dishing up their plates of dinner.

".. Hey lass.."

He mumbles, feeling like all the air left his chest.

You turn your head when you hear him, the brightest smile spreads across your face. Tossing the fork down from your hand as you turn towards him.

"Hey soldier-"

You beam. You don't even get another word in before Johnny rushes towards you, you let out a puff of air as he crashes into you. Laughing against him as he squeezes you to his chest, his face buried in your hair.

"Fuckin' missed ye hen.."

He whispers. You return with one of your own.

"I know baby.. I missed you too.."

You lift your head, kissing the scar on his chin.

"This bloke botherin' you love?"

You already know that voice immediately, smiling as you turn to look at Kyle. Who is quick at your side with Johnny, his hand cups the back of your head. Pressing a long kiss to your cheek. Taking a deep inhale of your scent through his nose. You smile warmly, your hand finds his bicep, giving a soft squeeze.

"There you are Kyle.."

You murmur, turning your head to press your own kisses across the bridge of his nose.

"Always here."

He chirps, kissing on your skin. His eyes bore into you, drinking you up. Johnny huffs, mumbling something about stealing all your attention. Earning a small tug on his mowhawk from you.

"Alright you two- showers. The both of you. You need it-"

You chuckle, giving them both a hug. Giving Johnny one more kiss on the jaw. Letting Gaz get one more kiss on your face. Watching them head past you down the hall to the bathroom. Kissing on eachother, bumping into walls. You shake your head at them with a smile.

Eyes flicking back to the entrance. You find Simon staring at you, his shoulders slack and sinking. Eyes half lidded and tired. The rest of his face under the balaclava. Your eyes soften, holding out your hand to him.

"Oh Si.."

He takes the invitation. Coming over to you. He would tower over you in height. But instead he falls to one knee in front of your chair. Hands resting on the arm rests of your chair. Your hands immediately cradle his head. Leaning forward to press your head to his.

"You're home.. it's alright now .. no more Lieutenant.."

You whisper against him. Your fingertips lift the edge of the balaclava, pulling it over the nape of his neck. Over the back of his head, nails dragging soothingly up his scalp as you take the fabric away. Making him shiver in vulnerability. Putting his mask aside on the counter.

Seeing your Simons face eases the both of you, cupping his jaw and lifting his head.

"I know doll.. I know."

He mutters, you kiss his temple. Caressing his skin. Threading your fingers into his hair.

"Go shower with the boys sweetheart.. I'll be in there soon."

You coo at him. He chuckles deeply, kissing your head between your brows as he gets up. Bumping your foreheads together one more time before walking to the bathroom.

"You're not gonna say hello to me John?"

You joke, turning your head to watch said Captain. Who was holding his hat in hand, leaning against the wall watching you. He's been watching you the whole time.

"Just seein' you with our boys darlin'.."

Pushing away from the wall he walks over to you. His eyes full of exhaustion, longing, warmth. Tossing his hat on the counter behind you. He leans down, callous hands hold your cheeks. Bringing your lips to his.

He's not as sneaky as he thinks. You know of his little demand to the boys. He's the first to kiss you. Each time they come home.

You kiss him back feverishly, as much as you've been calm and steady for them. You missed your men like hell. Your hands find his shoulders, squeezing them tightly, beginning to work on the knots of tension in them. Emitting a deep groan from John into your mouth. You smile against his lips, feeling the scratch off his beard.

"Everyone's alright?"

You whisper against him. He nods, his hands finding your hips. Slightly lifting you from your chair and towards himself.

"No one's broken. .. Kyle's a little stressed. Y'know how he is.."

You nod, eyes still closed, continuing to brush your lips together.

"And you?"

"Just tired.. But I'm home. That's what matters."

John mumbles, kissing you deep again. Dipping his tongue past your lips, a soft sigh slipping out of you. Arms pulling him closer.

"Taking good care of our boys John.. You always do.. Making sure you all come home to me again... Our strong Captain.."

You can feel him sinking at your praise. The older mans knees want to buckle at your voice.

"Let's get you in the shower baby.. Hm? Get you washed and relaxed.."

You mumble against him.

You yelp as your lifted into the air by his arms, laughing openly as he carries you like a bride. Burying his nose to the crook of your neck. Carrying you down the hall, to the bathroom door. Where you can already hear the chatter of the men in the shower waiting for the two of you. John is grumbling against your skin.

"We need you darlin'. "

"Our boys and I need you bad.."

[seosracha]

──── Room 69 , sim jaeyun

⸻ Room Sixty-Nine, where love is made

SYNOPSIS ⸻ As your parents' company fails to outperform others, you find yourself in the midst of a new financial situation and on the search for a new apartment. The roommate you stumble upon has no intentions of getting to know you better and well- you wonder how long it'll take until he fucks you.

PAIRING ⸻ roommate!jake x fem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, smut

TAGS ⸻ smoking, foul language/cursing, jake is weird and stalkerish?, making out, dom!jake, oral sex (m. receiving), degrading, unprotected sex, creampie

WC ⸻ 7k

⸻ NSFW CONTENT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI. this is purely fiction made for entertainment purposes only. do not like= don't read.

You were broke. Triple digits that usually decorated your bank account slowly turned into double digits, as you tried to endure the new reality. It was hard to let go of your usual habits, spending money like it had absolutely no value, living a lavish life and going out every Friday. Now, you had to count every penny. Instead of purchasing a basket load of expensive fruit and drinks, you were forced to reach for the cheapest bread and milk in order to survive. 

Maybe you were exaggerating. Your parents' company hadn't gone completely bankrupt, yet. The technology department, which brought in the most profit, had endured a sudden decline due to a new company, which had stolen all their clients. Maybe they were exaggerating too, the other four departments running just fine. 

Even with that, they had decided it would be best if you gave up your expensive apartment and spending mania. You would live without spending such amounts monthly, but you definitely wouldn't survive without your city view apartment. 

Since you were little you dreamt of moving out, and living in one of those high up buildings only the richest could afford. And upon viewing the apartment for the first time it was everything you had imagined. Down to the spruce wood kitchen and bottle green tiles in the bathroom. 

But here you were, intensely searching through apartment listings, hoping to find something equally nice for a good price. 

You had hoped your best-friend, Minjeong would offer you to move in with her, knowing she had a spare room in her apartment not far away from your own, but her boyfriend's move in had crushed that desire to the ground. 

You didn't want to let the thought sink in, but you knew you’d have to get a roommate. You knew that was the only solution for your poor financial situation. Unfortunately for you, any of your friends that were potential roommate material, either lived with their parents still or weren't looking to share a place with anyone. 

You had honestly put off the search for a long time, hoping you’d soon get a call from your parents saying they had finally given up on this stupid idea of cutting your monthly budget in half, but it never happened. 

One offer caught your attention, the monthly rent wasn't too bad, allowing you to still live comfortably, the deposit was also doable, and the room was just fine. 

With a few clicks, a message chain between you and your hopefully new leasing agent had formed. You prayed the offer was still available, slowly warming up to the place, analyzing every detail about the apartment through the numerous pictures attached to the advert. 

Soon enough, the generous and kind Mister Choi Jaeyoung had responded with a short confirmation and a list of information regarding his availability and precise location of the complex. You had agreed on a short tour of the apartment, but by now you had already memorized every corner. You’d probably give him a better tour of that place at this point than he could. 

“This would be your room” he pointed with his hand, gesturing you to enter the space to look around. 

It was even better in real life, the sun shined brightly through the large window, and the closet was bigger than you expected. Obviously, it was nothing compared to your high ceiling bedroom that included a bathroom and medium sized wardrobe, but still it satisfied you enough to sign all the papers your new leasing agent threw at you. 

“That room, right there” he said looking up to the closed door “-is your roommate's, Jake’s, room” he said, and you nodded. 

“Is he here?” you asked, hoping to meet him. 

You wondered why the boy hadn't come out by now in order to introduce himself to you. I mean, you two were going to be living with each other for a long time, it would be nice to at least see what kind of man he was. 

“I don't think so. Even if he is, I wouldn't recommend bothering him” he answered, and you tilted your head, confused. 

“Why? Don’t tell me he’s like fucked in the head or something” you cursed yourself for the choice of words. 

The older man laughed “No, Jake is a nice guy, but I reckon he’s just a little more on the introverted side. He treasures his peace more than anything, let’s say it like that” 

“I think I can respect that,” you smiled. 

“There was someone here before you, but he was definitely a talkative person, and I guess he didn't like the fact that Jake wasn't,” Jaeyoung added, and you nodded. 

“That really isn't a good enough reason to move out” you laughed lightly and so did the man beside you. 

You felt a bit uneasy at his words. Was Jake really that bad? Obviously your leasing agent, who was too nice for his own good, wouldn't admit to Jake being a complete lunatic with a fucked up sleep schedule, or something even worse than that. But the place was pretty tidy, it calmed your mind a little bit. 

“With that being said, you can move in as soon as you’d like. If you need any help with moving your belongings, I’d be more than happy to help you find a nice moving company. You really can't trust people with your stuff these days” he smiled kindly and you thanked him for the tour. 

You guessed you’d have to figure out your mysterious roommate on your own. 

_____ 

It had been a week since you moved in. A whole seven days had passed, and you haven't even seen his face. 

You hoped that maybe he’d offer you a helping hand with all the moving boxes, and furniture, but Jake didn't even bother to come out of his room the day of your move in. 

You knew he was there. You had passed by his room, hearing a quiet melody coming from his room or an indecipherable chatter. You considered knocking, introducing yourself, but the words of your landlord kept ringing in your ears, keeping you away from that door. 

“Isn't he going to like, help us?” Minjeong mumbled, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. 

She had been helping you move everything in since 9AM, and Jake hadn't even budged. You were debating asking him instead of Minjeong, finally getting a chance to let yourself be known to him, but then again you knew he’d decline, or worse, not give you an answer at all. 

“Doesn’t he need to use the toilet? Or eat?” Minjeong asked, sitting down on your bed, the two of you struggled to build. “A real man should have made an initiative to help, and build this furniture” she added, looking around at the still boxed up closet and desk. 

Sizing down your living space also meant getting rid of your ridiculously large furniture, that had absolutely no right fitting into this small room. Then again, it was great to use some of the pieces as bribery, you knew Minjeong would never agree to do this for free. 

“I don’t care, but it is kinda creepy” you said, sitting down on the chair next to your dresser. 

You weren’t alone, but that’s what it felt like. You wondered what he looked like. You had looked him up on Instagram, Tiktok, even Facebook, but none of the profiles under his name matched the information you had about him. 

“It is! What if he’s like a 40 year old creep that lurks in these areas of town cause he knows this is where most students live” she inquired, and it made you feel uneasy. The story sounded plausible, and that’s when you felt like going into his room ‘by accident’ just to see him would be the best idea. 

“Don’t say that, you’re freaking me out” you said, and she laughed lightly. It was unlikely, to be completely realistic, but you could never truly know until you saw him. 

“If he turns out to be weird, you can always stay with me” she reassured, walking over to the mirror. 

“And listen to Heeseung getting his dick wet all night long? Yeah, no thank you” you half smiled, and she laughed. 

“Better than a 40 year old pervert” she pointed out, and you were forced to agree with the girl. 

Minjeong sighed turning to you “I swear I’m going to knock on his door myself if you don’t do it” 

You shook your head. You’d rather torture yourself with all the things that were yet to be done, than reach out to Jake. 

“You know what my landlord said, he could kill me in my sleep if I bother him” you warned, and she sighed once again, her gaze falling on the numerous boxes. 

“I have to leave soon, are you seriously going to do all this by yourself?” she asked, and you nodded with a sad expression on your face “You should ask Jay to help you” she grinned evilly. 

You chuckled “We’re not that close” 

“Oh c’mon, I’m not telling you to have sex with him on your precious newly built bed, just ask him for a little help. Have you seen his muscles, he can take all these boxes at once” she said, and you hid your face in your hands, smiling “And stop acting like you don’t want him. You can’t hide anything from me” 

Jay was hot. Really fucking hot. He was tall, well proportioned with long legs and a muscular torso. He carried himself so well, with a style that was so different, and a captivating face. He was also a well known frat boy and stoner, but you didn’t mind, it wasn’t anything unusual. One of the things Jay liked about you is that you weren’t naive- he knew he wasn’t the only one you were fucking around with, and you knew you weren’t his only girl. 

“I can handle it, don’t worry” 

Minjeong had left, leaving you alone with all the unmade furniture, unpacked boxes and thoughts regarding your roommate. 

What if he truly was a 40 year old, unemployed man who earns all his money from his parents? 

Or a discord mod, who has awful posture, and a dent in his head from the constant use of headphones? 

But then again, you saw the food in the fridge, he had already cleared up two shelves for you, but his own contained a healthy variety of food, which calmed your mind in some way. The same went for the bathroom, it was clean, all his things were organized, and the products he used seemed to be those a rather younger person would use. 

His music taste also contradicted all your suspicions and theories. You noted that he listened to a lot of RnB, and from time to time he’d play some rap or hip hop. 

That’s how your first week went by, analyzing every detail, and attempting to listen in on any conversations he’d have, just to finally get an idea of who your secretive roommate was. 

On friday you came back from your pilates class, something you refused to give up, crying in front of your parents to let you have at least one thing. They were reluctant, but gave in sooner than you thought they would. 

You were extremely spoiled, and there was no point in denying it. You were raised that way, and you found peace in using that as an excuse for your behavior. 

Some part of you was expecting to catch Jake in the bathroom or kitchen, hoping you’d finally get to speak to him but the only thing of his that you came home to was a handwritten note with numerous household rules. 

It made you laugh. It’s not like he was paying more than you, but still he thought he had any right to boss you around in your own place. And his handwriting- it was awful. No matter how serious you tried to take the note, it felt like you were trying to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. 

Some of them were reasonable, cleaning up after yourself in the kitchen, keeping the bathroom tidy, and doing your own laundry- all of it was understandable and something you already had been doing. 

No smoking was something you could agree to, you didn’t really do it anyways so it didn’t bother you much. The same went for no music after 11PM. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the “no having friends over” point on his long list. It was insane, especially since he had a friend over just two nights ago. You had no idea why you were the only one not allowed to bring friends over, wondering if maybe you had to ‘earn it’, or if it was because you were a girl. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to comply with any of these. 

_______ 

On a Tuesday morning you woke up later than usual. The only reason for that was a previous cancellation of your anatomy class. 

No matter how spoiled and entitled you felt, you’d never allow yourself to miss class or fail an assignment or exam. Being a model student was something your father engraved in you from a young age, sending you to expensive boarding schools and making sure you get into a good university. 

You wondered if Jake had left for class already, or for work. Not like you knew what he was doing in life anyway. 

You opened your phone to an excited text message chain from Minjeong who expressed her excitement after a steamy and long night with Heeseung. A small smile surfaced on your face as you texted back her with a simple reply. 

You were afraid to leave your room. It was stupid, this was your place and you had every right in the world to go and make yourself fucking breakfast. But the impression Jake made on you was holding you back. You wondered how he managed to avoid you every single time, how you never were able to catch him leaving the bathroom or making a dish in the kitchen. That definitely took a lot of skill and starving on his side. 

It was pathetic, the more you thought about it. You were his roomate for fucks sake, not a serial killer who was just waiting to slash his head off. You two didn't have to be friends, you never expected that of him or anyone else you were going to move in with. But a short greeting would be nice. 

After a short call with Minjeong who pulled you back to reality, with a stern voice convincing you that Jake probably wasn't in the apartment anyway. 

“If you're going to behave like this, you should start looking for a new apartment” Minjeong said, and you thought about it for a second. 

Maybe she was right, but the thought of him scared you so much to the point that you would rather starve yourself than leave the room. 

The first week you purposely did things to catch him in action, get him to finally talk to you, and that slowly faded into you not even wanting to pass by him in the hallway. 

“Fuck Y/n, seriously he’s probably some incel loser who’s afraid to look a woman in the eye” you laughed at her comment, silently agreeing “I can come over and make food with you if that’s going to make you feel safer” she said, and you instantly were reminded of his set of rules and regulations. 

“Can’t. He doesn't allow friends over” you answered and she scoffed loudly. 

“So you did speak to him?” she said, still in disbelief. 

“No, not at all. This stupid prick left a note on my desk when I was out, 30 fucking rules and most of them seemingly only apply to me. He had a friend over just 4 nights ago!” you answered angrily, and she sighed. 

“You should move out of there, seriously. If not that, then purposely piss him off until he moves out” she inquired, and it birthed a whole bundle of ideas in your head. 

Maybe that was your solution. Purposely pissing him off and going against his crazy rules, forcing him to move out before you were forced to do it. 

“That’s a good idea, I like it” you answered, and she cooed excitedly. 

“Invite Jay and fuck so loud he’ll be slamming doors” she said, and you were quick to hush her, embarrassed by her ideas. 

“I gotta go make a mess in the kitchen then” you remembered one of the early points on the list, bidding her a quick farwell and ending the call. 

She had already convinced you that Jake wasn't in the apartment, so you didn't even bother getting dressed, just slightly adjusting your underwear and strapless top. 

It really felt like you were living alone most of the time so none of the habits you picked up on while living alone had the chance to vanish. 

You slowly open the door with a quiet creek to the floor boards and leave the room, your face in your phone as you checked all the notifications that bundled up overnight. 

You weren't expecting your first meeting with Jake to look like this, but there he was in all his glory. 

He must've thought the same thing- you shouldn't be here at this hour- a single pair of boxers keeping him away from standing fully nude in front of you. 

You didn't even know the man's last name but here you were standing practically naked in front of each other. Maybe you’d be more frightened if he wasn't so fucking hot. 

His skin was slightly tanned, shoulders broad with toned forearms. He had a tiny, slutty waist- if you knew he wanted it too you’d probably fuck him right there in that kitchen. His face was even better, big doe eyes and a shaped jawline. His black hair slightly covered his face, but you could still make out all of his features. 

All the fears you had completely vanished, a new disgusting arrangement of thoughts taking over your mind as you tried to speak to the man in front of you. 

“I’m s-sorry” you quickly said, covering your eyes. 

It had only been a couple seconds since your eyes met him in this awkward situation, but it felt like you’ve been staring at him much longer. 

He didn't even bother to reply, closing the fridge with a protein drink in hand, he passed by you like you weren't even there. You watched him enter his room and close the door with a thud. 

Was this seriously all of it? You had hoped he was just a little shy, waiting for an opportunity to greet you properly whenever you had the chance to pass by each other, but he obviously wasn't interested in getting to know you. 

But how could you possibly not want to get to know him when he was so breathtakingly hot. How could you possibly stay sane knowing you're living with a David reincarnate. 

You no longer planned on playing the ‘how long until he finally speaks to me’ game, preferring to see how long it’ll take for him to fuck you. 

______________

After that day you hadn't seen Jake at all. 

You heard him occasionally laugh with his friend who seemingly had the right to come over every day, or rage at a game but that was it. He once again opted to ignore you. 

You wondered if he was thinking about you too. You couldn't possibly get him out of your head, spending a little more time in the common rooms, hoping he would finally walk out of his room. 

Was he playing hard to get or was he just a fucking sick antisocial weirdo with no interest in real life women at all. 

You had spoken to Minjeong, the girl convincing you to do something that’ll rile him up. She had finally persuaded you to invite someone over, specifically Jay, in hopes that it will piss off Jake enough to get him to speak. 

“I know him from university, he’s an engineering major” Jay said, taking a hit from the freshly rolled blunt. 

The smell of weed spread across the area, and you secretly hoped Jake could feel it seeping in through the cracks of his door. 

“What’s he like?” you asked, inhaling the smoke as he held out the blunt for you in his fingers. 

He smiled “Fucking weird. Like he doesn't talk or anything, he just hangs out around the same people all the time” 

Jay pulled you closer, blowing the smoke into your mouth, and you obeyed, inhaling the rest. He gave you a sly smile, and finally put out what was left of the blunt. 

You didn't know what was between you and Jay, but until you get Jake to notice your true intentions towards him or even speak to you, he was a good option 

“That checks out” you chuckled, shaking your head “Look at this” you opened your drawer, pulling out the paper your roommate had left you. 

You handed it to him, as he read through all the rules. He laughed and with wide eyes kept looking through it. 

“Fuck, I need Sunghoon to see this” he laughed, taking a picture of it “Already broke two rules” he smirked and handed the list back to you. 

“Not stopping there, trust me” you smiled and put it back in your desk drawer. 

He smiled evilly, and pulled you back over to sit on his lap. You complied with a sly smile, and pressed your face against his chest, Jay softly caressing your back. 

“You should move far away from this freak, seriously” he says, and you can’t help but hum in agreement. 

If you chose to disagree, Jay would start asking too many unnecessary questions you truly had no answer to. You couldn't even tell yourself why after seeing him only once, you wanted the man to dick you down so bad. 

“And live on the street? No thank you” you replied, your voice muffled by the material of Jay’s sweater. 

He chuckled “You can move in with me” 

“The streets sound much better than living with 4 sweaty frat boys in one room” you replied, and he huffed. 

“We’re not frat boys, c’mon” you scoffed at his words. 

“Stoners, frat boys, fuckboys, whatever, same thing” you count and he just rolls his eyes playfully. 

Jay’s delicate touch and sweet voice almost stopped you from hearing Jake’s angry footsteps in the hallway. 

The chance had finally come, and you were forced to ignore it. 

The sound of his footsteps kept ringing in your ears as Jay told you something about having to leave soon to do a drop. You barely listened to him, wondering what Jake was thinking about, probably already noticing you were not alone. 

The vibrating sound of Jay’s phone knocked you out of your trance, forcing you to rise from his embrace, passing him the device. 

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. I’m around the area” he replied, and lazily standing up with a stumble to his feet, he stretched and turned to you “Sorry, pretty thing. Gotta go” he gave you a half smile, and you nodded your head, trying to refocus on what’s going on behind your closed door. 

You walked him downstairs to the door, and with a chaste kiss to your forehead, he sprinted towards the subway station. You smiled, your eyes chasing his figure until he finally disappeared around the corner. 

Opening the door to your apartment once again you hoped that Jake would still be rummaging around the hallways. 

And you were right, he fell right into your trap. He was waiting there for you. 

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, and his voice was deep. It was a little raspy, probably from the way he’s screaming his lungs out playing games all night. 

His face was dark, and figure was lean. He looked a little creepy, his back blocking all the light, his body casting a shadow onto your figure. 

You wanted to smile, but decided to keep it cool “No hello, or goodmorning?” you asked, tilting your head with a sly smile. 

He looked like he was about to explode, and you liked it more than you thought you would. 

“Oh you wanna be like that? I fucking told you, loud and clear, that there were no guests allowed around here. Didn’t get through your head the first time, did it?” he groaned. 

“I’ve been here for 2 fucking weeks, and you haven’t even bothered to introduce yourself to me. You can seriously fuck off, and shove those rules up your ass while your at it” you replied, turning your back to him, heading towards your room. 

He grabbed your wrist, pushing you to the wall “You listen to me, yeah? So don’t fucking try to invite anyone over again” he said, harshly letting go off you, and without letting you finish, walked back to his room with a slam to his door. 

You were left there stunned in the hallway. Although you knew Jake wasn’t normal, you never expected him to be this fucked up. 

And you also didn’t expect it to turn you on so much. 

_______________ 

Once again, you haven’t seen Jake around. 

He must have been extra cautious to ignore you especially after your previous incident. 

You hadn’t even heard him play his usual loud and obnoxious music anymore or him raging at his games. No one has come over since then either. You couldn’t understand why Jay coming over bothered him so much to the point where he changed up his whole routine, choosing to take on a rather silent stance. 

But he wasn’t here today. 

For the first time in 3 weeks, you were there for his absence in the apartment, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do. 

You wanted to finally see what his own space looked like. 

Maybe in the slightest way it would help you figure out the type of person he is, maybe you’d find something that’d help you understand why he is the way he is. 

You double checked, making sure that psycho wasn’t hiding somewhere, hoping he’d catch you in the act. But when you checked every possible spot, you quietly and slowly opened the door to his room, steadily taking in the space that was unveiled in front of you. 

Cream walls, gray curtains, a cheap wooden bed frame, no posters, pictures or plants, you truly expected something more, but there was no personality to the boys room. 

In some way that answered a handful of your questions about him; he just had nothing to himself. He was just a simple boy with a fucked up character and greasy keyboard. 

His desk was messy, a mixture of textbooks, used up tissues and a half-empty lotion, crumpled up pieces of paper and cables. Yet through the mess you managed to notice a note, your name written in capitals on the top of it. 

And well, a scrunched up, stained pair of your light pink, lacy panties. They were abandoned in the middle of all the tissues he disgustingly didn’t get rid of yet. 

Just when you thought he couldn’t get weirder, he somehow did. 

“There is no fucking way” you whispered to yourself, your mouth parted and eyes wide. 

You looked back and forth between the paper and your underwear, eventually grabbing at the note, narrowing your eyes as you began to read the contents. 

You skimmed through the bullet points; your full schedule written down on the paper with almost exact numbers as to when you leave and when you come back. These were the things you didn’t even know yourself. 

“You think about me a lot don’t you, Jakey” you murmured with an evil grin, not forgetting to snap a picture of it and send it to Minjeong. 

You decide to leave the now useless fabric where you found it, also deciding to leave it out of the conversation with your best friend. She had already freaked out over the schedule and if she found out your crazy roommate is also jerking off using your dirty laundry, she wouldn't waste a second moving all your things into her apartment personally. 

She replied swiftly, an arrangement of emojis decorating your home screen and a “WHAT THE FUCK, CALL ME ASAP?”. You smiled and put all his things back in place, leaving the horrid space Jake created for himself. 

“Hello? Y/n?” Minjeongs voice ringed in your ears as you called the girl. 

You decided to spend some time in the living room, waiting for Jake’s return. Your eyes were constantly plastered on the door in the end of the hallway, ears listening in for a turn of the key. 

“Yeah, I’m here” you laughed lightly, and that’s when Minjeong got her confirmation to start her full on blowout. 

“Move out of there as soon as possible, girl. That man is dangerous, I swear to god” she half screamed, and you just chuckled “You’re laughing? This doesn’t scare you, like at all?” she asked, and you thought about a reasonable reply, cause ‘He’s hot’ was definitely not going to make the cut for your best friend. 

“I can’t afford anything else Minjeong, you know that. He doesn’t bother me that much, it’s okay” you said in an attempt to calm the girl down. 

“I told you, you can come stay with me” she said calmly, and you let a stray breath out. 

“Min you know I love you, but I already told you I do not want to hear you banging Heeseung every other night” you smiled even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Personally, I’d rather listen to pornhub recreations than live under the same roof with a potential stalker” she said, and you laughed. At least she knew about her problem. 

“He’s not a stalker Min, he’s just weird. That’s all” you replied and she sighed. 

“You can’t fix him, Y/n” she said, and you scoffed playfully. 

“You can wait and see” you told her and she just hummed. 

“Before that happens, you'll be six feet under” she said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her overprotectiveness

The topic slowly faded when the seriousness turned into playful banter, the two of you discussing random topics and gossiping about every possible person that ever graced your campus. 

You didn’t leave the living room, not once, because according to Jake's precious and impressive schedule, you should be out now. Normally that would be true if not for the cancellation of your pilates class. Self-cancellation. 

As the keys turning and metal hitting the wooden door sound through the apartment, you hang up without further explanation, quietly running off to your room. 

If you stayed in the living room, upon noticing you, he'd practically bolt to his room, locking the door, once again, avoiding you. You were smarter than that. 

As soon as you heard him settle down, the sound of your old fridge being opened, and his quiet footsteps pacing around the kitchen, you pulled out your phone, the picture of his note staring back at you. You smile mischievously, phone in hand as you open the door, heading straight towards the kitchen, 

He looks slightly taken-aback and you know damn well why. He wasn't expecting you. You shouldn't be here for another 30 minutes- the perfect amount of time for him to shower and make dinner. He had precisely calculated all of this just so he could avoid useless encounters with you. 

“What is this?” your voice is taunting as he realizes what's displayed on your screen. 

All the blood drained from his face as he realized you entered his room and looked through all his things, possibly even read all the perverted thoughts he had about you that were scattered across his desk in the form of crumpled pieces of paper. He remembers exactly what he took from your dirty laundry basket and how much he enjoyed having the fabric wrapped around his thick shaft. 

“You went through my things ?” he asks, voice laced with anger as the reality of the situation comes down on him.   

You bark out a laugh, amused by his attempts to shift the blame on you “Oh and my panties, you can keep those. Hope they milk your short dick good” you smirk, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, the look of confidence on your face. 

Jake's expression darkens, a cruel grin twisting his lips as he moves closer to you, his face inches away from yours “You think you're so fucking clever, don't you? Going through my things, catching me in a little indiscretion and using it against me. Impressive” his voice is low as he laughs in your face. 

One of his hands moves to grip your chin, the look on his face menacing as he forces you to maintain eye contact “You're nothing but an entitled brat. I'm not some fucking pushover and you should know that by now. Weren't those rules enough? You just had to go and invade my privacy to feed your little ego. You knew what you’d find, didn't you?” he stares down at you intensely, his grip on your chin tightening, his thumb slowly brushing over your lower lip, his smile growing as he notices your silence. 

“Here's what will happen, okay? You’ll apologize for breaking my rules, send all your guests packing as soon as they show up on this doorstep, and we’ll never have this conversation again. You'll be a good little girl and listen to me from now on” he murmurs, his voice low as he trails his fingers along your jawline. 

“You look so hot when you get mad like this, Jakey” he looks caught off guard for a moment, before the low and seductive laugh parts his lips. 

“You think so?” he leans in closer, his breath hot on your skin, his voice down to a whisper as he continues “Then maybe we should put that dumb fucking mouth of yours to use and I'll show you just how hot I can get” 

A smirk spreads across Jake's face as his hands move down to grope your behind, giving it a firm squeeze, chuckling at your reaction. 

He moves to settle down at the edge of the couch, stripping off his shirt, presenting you with the view you’ve missed way more than you thought you did. His chiseled torso glistens under the lights, his belt buckle clinking as he undoes his pants, pushing them down. The fabric falls down to the floor almost instantly. 

He watches you intently as you smile up at him, his fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, his movements slow and tantalizing. 

You’re enjoying this and he knows it too, watching from the way you slide down to your knees in front of him. 

“I knew you'd like this. Is this what you wanted?” he teases, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches your desperate pleas. 

When you nod, he laughs softly, finally pushing down his boxers, freeing his rigid erection “Show me how much you wanted it” 

He grips the base of his shaft, giving it a few slow strokes as he watches you, waiting for you to take him into your mouth. 

You grin at his heat and hardness, your fingers wrapping around his length. He pulses in your grasp, begging to fill your throat. You lean in, your gaze locked on his, running your tongue from base to tip, savoring the bitter taste of his precum. 

You slowly take him into your mouth, your lips stretching as you push his length further down your throat. You bob your head, the determination to bring him pleasure coursing through your veins. 

As your wet mouth accommodates his thick cock, a strangled groan escapes his lips “Yeah, fuck, don’t stop” 

His fingers thread through your hair, pushing you further down his shaft. He guides you as the sensation of your tongue around his sensitive tip brings him over the edge, his knees weak as he shakes with pleasure. 

“Keep going, suck me off good” he moans, his mouth parted as he continues to guide your head down his throbbing cock. 

As you pick up speed, your movements harder and faster, he can feel his body begging for release, the orgasm building in his stomach. 

He can barely keep his eyes open as he speaks, his voice strained “Fuck, I’m close" his heartbeat quickens "Gonna cum so hard down your throat you’ll never want to go against me again” 

His hips buck, as he tries to savor the last moments before his awaited release. With a hoarse cry, he loses himself in the feeling, spilling himself deep into your throat. 

His grip on your hair loosens, his eyes rolling back with pleasure “Swallow” he commands, his body shaking as he rides out his climax. 

With a contented hum, you comply, lapping up the last drops of his seed, the salty flavour coating your mouth. The rest of his release, mixed with your spit, coats your glistening lips, as you remove yourself off him. 

Jake watches you lick your lips before pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. His tongue moves along your mouth, his hands sliding up your shirt, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of your stomach. 

“Strip” he says, pulling away, watching you with an evil grin. 

As he watches you slowly and teasingly remove your thin shirt and shorts, his hand begins to slowly stroke his cock back to hardness, smearing the ramints of his own release and your saliva along his thick shaft. 

He sits down on plush comforters of the couch, tapping his lap for you. His body presses against you as you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“So pretty” he whispers, locking his eyes on you as he watches you subtly grind your hips on top of him. 

He pulls your head back, exposing you bare throat, his lips leaving a trail of bites and bruises on his way down to your collarbone. 

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel his wet lips on you “I need more” 

He smiles at your words “I’ll fuck you so good the only rule you’ll remember is how nice it is when you submit to me” 

Jake swiftly moves you down onto the cushions, his body looming over you as his hungry eyes wander over your body. His lips meet yours again, his hardness grinding against your wet core. 

He uses your wet slick as a lubricant, his cock sliding against your folds as he hisses at the sensation. 

“I fucked myself to the thought of you every night” his voice is rough with barley restrained lust as he notches himself at your entrance “Wanted to bury myself in this little cunt for so long” 

With a powerful thrust of his hips, Jake sheathes himself fully inside you, groaning as your tight heat elopes him. You breath out in ecstasy as he fills you completely, your inner walls clenching tightly around his thick length. 

Your back arches off the couch, as you hold onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin “Shit, Jake. So fucking good” 

You start rolling your hips, meeting his every stroke, the sound of skin slapping against skin and loud gasps fill the once quiet apartment. 

Encouraged by your wanton pleas, his thrusts become erratic, hitting deep and hard. He pounds into you with a wild force, pressing you down in place, taking the pleasure from your willing body. 

“That’s right, take it all” he holds onto your hips, slamming you onto his length. 

You can’t even bother to reply to his comments, writhing beneath him as he uses your body for his own gratification. Each of his brutal movements sends you further over the edge, his pace almost demonic as your nails dig into his back, leaving red scratches along the surface. 

Jake feeling your trembling thighs and the way you clench around him, smiles evilly, slamming into you with precision, grinding his pelvis against your clit. 

“Cum on my cock” he speaks, his voice dark “Milk me for all I’m worth” 

With a piercing whine, you come undone under his dripping body, the orgasm crashing down on you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as with heavy pants, you ride out your intense climax. 

The feeling of your release and the sound of your name falling breathlessly from your lips, proves too much for him to handle “Gonna cum so fucking deep inside you” 

With a low, guttural moan Jake presses himself deep inside you one last time, and finds his own release, pumping his hot, thick cum directly into you. 

He finally collapses on top of you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his own, intense orgasm. Jake lies down next to you, your damp body sticking to his, as he threads his fingers through your hair. 

“Don’t go through my shit again, Y/n” he whispers, biting down on your earlobe. 

[oceantornadoo]

Could you maybe write a fic for Simon pursuing a reader who has no experience despite being in her early 20s?

(disclaimer: this ask said early 20s but i didn't really focus on that exact age for reality and inclusivity purposes)

you like to think you're a pretty calm person. have to be, for the kind of work you do - can't be a hothead when you're dealing with hundreds of other hotheads (a.k.a. military men). that environment, seeing the vicious effects of too much testosterone and loyalty to those who don't deserve it, has led you to this predicament. a lack of experience with men. all the ones you've met are loud or self-absorbed and your work is so time-consuming so that when you've found yourself at this precipice, you realize you have no experience to guide you. only a few drunk kisses and one teenage crush to act as the map for the journey you're about to take.

it was odd, how easily you fell into simon riley. he duped you into your first date, calling it a celebratory post-mission dinner when in reality, he'd had the reservations for weeks. it progressed smoothly from there: coffee and ice cream and a scary movie you didn't want to see alone. a few weeks later and you let him into your sacred apartment, a couch no man had ever sat on. he was so respectful, soft words and light touches to get you comfortable with him.

you intrigued simon. it was like befriending a stray cat; one wrong move and he'd be out in the hall. he'd asked around (a.k.a. asked johnny) and found out you'd never dated anyone on base. not surprising, he hadn't either, but your skittish nature led him to believe you'd never dated anybody. you were comfortable with men, sure, but you'd never made any moves on simon despite seeming to like him so much. if he were a less confident man, he would think you weren't interested, but it was in the way your eyes lingered on him, the glances you shot him when you thought he wasn't looking. he decided a conversation was necessary to clear the air so he didn't keep handling you like a bomb that could go off any second.

the two of you were watching footie, a bowl of popcorn in the middle. your hands brushed occasionally as you ate, your knee touching his, but nothing further. simon was well practiced in restraint, and he would wait as long as he needed to, but he felt like he was operating blind, no night vision goggles in sight. "love." it was like flipping a switch. you jumped up, snatching the popcorn bowl and murmuring something about supplying a refill even though it was more than halfway full. he let you have your freakout in the kitchen, giving you time to collect your thoughts. finally, you came back ten minutes later, hand shaking slightly as you put the bowl back down, which was decidedly not full. "can i ask you somethin'?" his hand gripped your knee before you could get up again, settling you back on the couch. your eyes were wide, searching his at a rapid speed as you tried to figure out what he was asking.

"w-what?" he started stroking your knee slowly, thumb brushing over the fabric of your sweats. he didn't answer right away, letting the rhythm of his thumb calm you until your shoulders dropped a fraction. "do i scare y'?" he murmured in a low tone. your shoulders dropped completely, your head collapsing on the couch behind you. you figured it was time to have this talk anyways. "no, it's nothing like that. i trust you, si." he nodded, checking a question off his list. his thumb was still stroking you, the motion anchoring you to the moment. "did someone hurt y'? before me?" you shook your head. "no, it's nothing like that. i just-" you cut yourself off, biting your lip. you chanced a glance at simon, his face open and patient. "i just don't have a lot of experience with men. and it makes me nervous, thinking i'll do something wrong." simon nodded in understanding. "'s while y're so jumpy. how much experience?" you muttered your answer too low for him to hear. "wot?" ugh. "none." oh. oh.

simon was rewriting scripts in his head. no experience was not what he was expecting, but it didn't put him off. if anything, he felt honored you picked him to give you experience. "doesn't matter, love. we can go 's slow as you want. just gotta tell me what y' want." your hand covered his on your knee. "i want you, si. i just don't know how to show it." he squeezed your knee. "trust me?" you nodded instantly. suddenly, you were being moved, strong hands around your waist dragging you into simon's lap. he arranged you into a straddle, setting you back on the middle of his thighs. simon didn't want to give you the wrong idea by putting you on his cock so soon. there was time.

"ya ever kiss anyone?" you gave him a small smile. "not sober. none that i really remember." he laughed, the feeling vibrating through his chest down to his thighs. it was exhilarating, being so close to him and not being scared. you were still nervous, sure, but there was less expectation hanging over your head now that you had talked. "c'mere. we'll take it slow. close your eyes." he sat up a little, a hand on your hip preventing you from being jostled. you closed your eyes obediently, lips parting slightly with the exhale of your breath. you could feel his body heat come closer. he brushed his lips against yours, pulled back, and then gave you a real kiss.

you weren't sure what to do. you had listened to enough advice podcasts to know you shouldn't use any tongue, but that was it. his lips were soft, if a bit chapped, pressing against yours deliciously. he felt so close, so intimate, and you pushed back against him, just a little. it melted your heart a little as he pushed back, warm and willing. your hands instinctively dove into his hair, finally feeling those strands you'd been dreaming about. it went on and on, experimenting with little licks and bites as you got more confident. unfortunately, the more passionate you became, the less air in your lungs. you pulled back with a gasp.

"fuck." his lips were swollen and red, his hair sticking up at all angles. ravished. "good?" he asked, licking his lips. you nodded. "can we do it again?" the eagerness would have made you cringe if you didn't want it so much. "yeah, baby, anytime you want. c'mere."

--

i hope i did this justice!! my first kiss was terrible but i was also 14 so i think it would be better with an experienced man lol

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of a miscarriage, just pure agony! wc: 1.8k inspired by the song 'touchy subject' by peach prc. part 2

a white baby gate fixed in my hallway stays haunting the house with the angels we made; sometimes, i dream, a decade away, we meet in a grocery store; you look the same, with just a few grey hairs. the blonde little girl who tugs on your shirt with your smile looks nothing like me.

it had been four years since you had last been on kildare island; four years of trying to forget the life, or the ruined bones of one, that you'd been escaping from.

after ending your engagement with your fiancé, you'd traveled all around the country in your beat-up truck, hoping to find a place where you'd belong; only to end up back in the outer banks. they say there's no place like home, and in a way, it was true. you can leave kildare island, but kildare island will never leave you.

"everything okay?"

you're startled out of your thoughts by the melodic sound of your mother's voice, and when she follows your gaze to the baby-gate attached to the door leading to the kitchen, her mouth twists into a frown. "i was meant to take that down before you got here..." she chewed on her lower lip, a pang of guilt almost punching her in the chest.

"it's fine." you shrug, trying to lift the ends of your lips into a smile, only for it to look artificial and rehearsed. "i should start unpacking."

"alright." your mother placed her hand on your shoulder, but should've been a comforting gesture, made you feel like you were underwater and the hand was simply pushing you deeper.

you stood alone in the living room of your apartment, the only thing to be heard of was the ticking of the clock your mother had already mounted on the clock, mixed in with the sounds of passing cars, so unlike the day you first moved into the apartment, yet so much like the day you were last there.

"you should keep the apartment."

"rafe, i can't do that. it's way too much, and i'm leaving-"

"it's already in your name." the man sighed, smoothing his hand over his shaved head; he looked so different than usual, the dark bags under his eyes making him look like he had aged ten years, his usually tan face almost pale. "you can do whatever you want with it. keep it, sell it, i don't care. it's yours. i never want to step foot in this place again."

your feet were almost moving on their own, the hardwood floor cold under your feet, leading you to that door, and even though you felt your blood run cold, every cell of your body telling you not to open it, you couldn't help but nudge the door open.

you didn't know what you were expecting.

stepping into the room, you let your hand trail over the soft-pink wall, still remembering the smell of paint.

"you know, you shouldn't be doing that." he sighed, leaning against the doorway. "i can just hire someone to paint the walls."

you roll your eyes, your denim overalls covered in the soft pink paint as the paint stained the white wall, "i want to do this. i'm not gonna hire someone to do everything for me when i'm perfectly fine doing it on my own."

"you're not-"

"hush." you pointed the paint roller at rafe, "i'm doing this. now pick up a paint roller or quit whining."

you look down at the crib, lined with white lace, picking up the brown teddy bear that used to belong to you when you were a child, brushing your hand over the fur, straightening the pink bow around its neck.

hung above the crib, was a picture of a couple that had just gotten engaged, wide smiles on both of their faces; a couple that had once been so familiar to you, but now, it was like you couldn't recognize either of the people in the photos.

it felt like everyone was staring at you as they walked past you; four years clearly hadn't been long enough to make the people of outer banks forget about you, and as you made your way towards the local cafe, you couldn't help but think about how long it'd take for the person you didn't want to know you were in town to find out.

you were strolling down the street, rafe's hand in yours, your fingers intertwined. you licked the ice cream cone, deep in thought, letting rafe take the lead.

"what's going through that pretty head of yours?" he chuckled softly, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, your engagement ring glimmering under the sunlight.

"baby names." you shrug, "what should we name her?"

"do you have any names in mind?"

"i was thinking..." you pursed your lips, not sure if the name you had been considering would be appropriate or not, chewing on your lower lip as you turn your head to face your fiancé, an expectant smile on his lips and his brows lifted in question, "evelyn."

when the name left your lips, you saw his mouth fall open, and for a moment you thought that you never should've spoken, but after rafe cleared his throat, there was a clear smile on his lips, his blue eyes glassy.

"you- you uh, wanna name her after my mom?"

"yeah." you smile, squeezing his hand. "i do."

for the millionth night, you were laid in bed, looking through pictures, featuring the faces of the couple above the crib in the room next door. pictures with the man's arms wrapped around the woman's waist, ones of them holding hands, ones where one was pressing a kiss the other person's cheek, ones from the several midsummers parties they spent together, ones from halloween, thanksgiving, christmas...

the girl in the dress she had planned to wear on her wedding day.

"rafe, where are you taking me?" you laughed, the blindfold covering your eyes, "if the blindfold's for some kinky purpose, you better forget about it."

rafe laughed, continuing to lead you, his large hands on your waist, "come on, have a little faith in me. i'm not that bad, am i?"

"oh, you definitely are. just last week we were an hour late to ava's party because you just thought i was irresistible."

rafe snorted, "well, that's because you were." he pressed a kiss on your cheek, "you can take it off." he whispered, taking a step away from you.

untying the blindfold, you blinked a few times, letting yourself get used to actually being able to see again, only to be startled by the sight of your boyfriend on one knee in front of you, a small velvet box in his hand, "rafe...?"

you wiped away the stray tear that had left your eye without permission before it could reach your jaw, continuing to scroll through the pictures, knowing that it'd be yet another sleepless night, but when you saw a picture of her, you paused.

you weren't sure who was more nervous, you or rafe, even though you were the one in the examination chair, your shirt pulled up and your rounded stomach on full display. his hand was tightly gripping yours, the man's jaw clenched.

"let's take a look, shall we?" the ultrasound technician smiled, and you nodded, feeling her spread the cold gel onto your stomach, a slight yelp leaving your lips, making rafe squeeze your hand even tighter. you looked to him, nodding reassuringly, speaking softly, "it's okay."

rafe's grip loosened slightly and he softened his grip, both of you turning your heads to the screen, and the moment you saw the little lump on the screen, you couldn't help but feel tears stinging in your eyes.

"look. that's our baby."

"shit..." rafe stared at the screen wide-eyed, letting out a low breath, "that's our baby."

just like on any average day on the island, the sun was shining, your skin radiating with warmth as you walked down the street, looking in through shop windows; it had been a few days since you'd first stepped outside, and it seemed like your arrival had become widespread news, and you didn't receive as many stares as you did before.

you arrived at rafe's door, bringing your hand up and pounding on the door before you could stop yourself and chicken out for the third time that week. you were a wreck, unable to sleep, to think about anything other than how much you knew you needed to talk to rafe.

you waited, tapping your foot against the ground and biting down on your lip, when finally, the door slowly started opening, a small smile forming on rafe's lips when he realized that it was you.

"hey baby," he chuckled softly, placing his hands on your waist, "you miss me so much you couldn't even text me to let you know you were coming?" he grinned.

"i have to talk to you." you pull away from his embrace, taking his hands off your waist, the blonde looking down at you with furrowed brows, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest, clearly alarmed by the slight frown on your lips.

"what's wrong?"

"i'm pregnant."

without even realizing it, you had stopped in front of a jewelry store, gazing inside at the things on display as you were going down memory lane inside your head. you let out a small chuckle, about to step back and continue walking, when your blood ran cold, the smile fading away from your face, feeling as if someone had stabbed you in the heart.

to anyone else, it would've just been the backs of two random people. but even without seeing his face, you could recognize the only man you'd ever loved no matter where you went.

his short-sleeved white collared shirt was tucked into his dark jeans, riding up slightly as he ran a hand through his hair, having grown out slightly since the last time you'd seen it, his signet ring on his middle finger.

you saw him let out a chuckle, and you could almost picture how it'd sound, his hand going to rest on the back of the person he was with.

a younger woman smiled up at him, and even just from her side profile, you could tell that she was gorgeous, her flaming hair flowing over her shoulders, the smile on her face genuine, matching his.

and when you saw what she was holding up and showing to him, the knife in your chest was twisted.

an engagement ring.

[iid-smile]

★ — doing the 'we listen and we don't judge' challenge with bllk boys!

isagi, bachira, karasu, nagi, rin, chigiri

content — maybe ooc especially for karasu, nagi is a red flag, underwear mentioned in karasu's, bachira is gross (please beware) 😧

a/n: not my idea, but i dont know if i should tag or not 🫣 trying to write out what im imagining in my head is the WORST so pls bare with me 🙏🙏 also there might be mistakes bc my grammar is shit

★ — isagi yoichi

"you know how we were playing mario kart the other day?" his thumbs twirl around each other amid his struggle to make eye contact with you. he's always felt bad lying to your face, but that specific time, he didn't really lie, only hid it from you. "and you lost really bad on that one map?"

at least it's better than what you were expecting. you've seen some couples break up over this trend despite being picture-perfect, and you didn't want to be victim to that curse either. "uh huh..." you nod.

"i searched up where the best shortcuts were and spent three hours every day for a month practicing speed runs."

"nooooo!" your hand lands on his as disbelief washes over you. "baby, why would you do that?" betrayal. betrayal. your own boyfriend has kept something like this a secret for how long?

"i'm sorry!" was it selfish to admit that some weight was lifted off his shoulders too? or that he's actually done that with the majority of the maps? no, he won't say that. "i just—"

"that's my favourite map too..." you pout up at him. you weren't actually that upset, but you knew that looking the part would earn you some cuddles and kisses, which you were craving right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry." his arms wrap around you as he whispers out soft apologies, his lips pressing on your temple. "i'll teach you what i know, okay?"

★ — bachira meguru

"we listen and we don't—"

"i dropped your toothbrush in the toilet three times in a row and i didn't clean it afterwards."

"..."

"what?" bachira's eyebrows raise in confusion, slightly cutting out of the frame as his feet fiddle around as he plays with the electric yellow tips of his hair. "oh! also once there was no toilet paper, but i really really needed to dookie, and only your towel was there, so..."

oh, you don't even want to touch him. or yourself. or anything at this rate. mind you, that event happened yesterday, not a long time ago. "seriously!?"

"what?" his innocent act strikes again, looking at you with big eyes as you struggle to wrap your head around whatever he's just said. and why the hell are they all linked to the bathroom? is that why he spends hours in there at a time?

"you told me that was chocolate!" you gasp, the walls guarding over the truth crumbling down all at once.

"some of it was, yeah. i think i'm lactose intolerant."

oh, god...

★ — karasu tabito

"what, i just say something i've never told you?" karasu muses, his eyes on you rather than the camera as he leans on the kitchen counter, head nestled on his fist.

he hums mindlessly, mind reeling through memories. what hasn't he told you? the words 'i can't think of anything' remain on the tip of his tongue, but after a while, his eyebrows twitch. it was certainly something, but that's what you wanted, right?

"i've worn your underwear once... i think." he admits, acting like that was an ordinary thing to say.

um... what? "what do you mean 'you think'?" in your 'rage', you feebly punch at his chest, only for it to be caught with ease by him.

he knows full well that he could overpower you if he wanted to, but he lets you have your fun, or frustration, pushing back on your hands with equal strength. "no, no, you said no questions." he chuckles, finding your efforts to fight back adorable.

"but—!"

"that's your rule, not mine."

★ — nagi seishiro

"we listen and we don't—" you tug on the sleeve of nagi's hoodie, trying to coax him into sitting up. "sei, at least try to look at the camera."

for a few seconds, there's a few mumbled 'no...'s from him, as well as your near desperate pleas for him to at least attempt to do something for you for once. every time you want to do a cute or funny tiktok trend with him, it's always a struggle for to get up, or in most cases, listen to you at all.

right when you least expect it, he has his response. "i used to hate you a lot. maybe still do. there. are we done?"

your jaw immediately drops. "sei, you can't just..." you're hurt, confused, conflicted and... now you don't know what to do. should you continue? should you cut the video and ask for him to explain himself?

"that's what you wanted me to say." his voice perks up from behind you as he plops onto his back again. the sound of his game fills your ears once more as you're still stunned in silence, only for him to pour more salt onto the wound. "or do you want me to continue?"

yeah, you are not posting this.

★ — itoshi rin

rin blinks at you in confusion as you try to break down the trend to him, his eyes unusually wide as they remained trained on yours. he's just so lost, because why would he ever want to say something mean directly to you just for a funny video?

once it's his turn, you have to give him a little nudge, signalling that it's his turn. honestly, he doesn't even know what to do, even after your little demonstration before him.

he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, but nothing comes to mind. "i like it when you wear my jerseys."

you almost wanted to melt from how cute his tiny confession was right then and there. you inferred as much, but hearing him say it out loud "that's not something i can judge, rin."

"i don't really have anything to say." his gaze drifts around the room, landing on the camera for a split second before looking away.

scoffing, your body turns towards him. how does he not? "you judge me all the time!" you blurt out, remembering all of the times you've been a target of his foul mouth.

"that's because you're weird. sometimes."

"sometimes— you know what, it's better than what i've heard you say to certain people." literally everybody he knows fits under the 'certain people' umbrella.

★ — chigiri hyoma

you were a little scared, because chigiri seemed a bit too on board with the idea. knowing him, he's got a lot of stuff to say, bad or worse. hell, he could insult your entire existence and that would be the genuine truth, based on the gossip you've had together, but he's not that mean to you. right?

he looks you dead in the eye. "i've made a pros and cons list about you five times, and the last one was a week ago."

"hyo!" you immediately exclaim, playfully pushing his side. not as bad as you were expecting, but it certainly stung.

he simply shrugs his shoulders. "i mean, there wasn't any cons the last time, so..." you both stare at each other, and his lips thin into a straight line, pulling off the most unbothered expression that he could.

"you're lying." and he's never been a good liar either.

ignoring you, he turns back to the camera, somehow managing to hold back his giggles as he refuses to elaborate. "we listen and we don't—"

"chigiri hyoma."

"we listen and— ow!" the video cuts off with you delivering a barrage of hits against his arm. don't worry, they were all light and they didn't hurt; as you claim, not him.

[em-ontv]

Need some space — d.w.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could

Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 912

Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.

Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.

"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"

"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."

You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.

"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."

"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."

Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.

When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.

"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.

"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.

"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.

You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.

"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.

Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."

"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."

"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.

And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.

"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.

Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.

"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.

"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"

"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."

He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.

It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.

Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.

"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.

He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.

"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.

"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.

Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."

[ram-bles]

Hello! Is it okay if you can write mouthwashing headcannons of how the crew members would react to the reader randomly attacking them with kisses? If you want to stick with one person, then I was thinking, Anya? (If you want someone else, then that's okay too!)

Have a great day/afternoon/night

tulpar crew x gn!reader

smooch attack headcanons.

⚠️ pushy jimmy. everything else is chill. not proof read.

[note: sorry I've been out for long everyone! I had some stuff come up but I'm doing some progress on the things you guys send! I hope you enjoy these imagines]

[ Anya ]

🟦 giggling mess if done right

🟦 if you do it, please don't jump her.

🟦 sth like swooping in first before kissing her. small signals that it's you.

Her eyes were glued onto the shelf, searching for that one book she needed. It was usually there. Did I misplace it? Her thoughts were immediately silenced by a hand taking hers, swift yet carefully. Her body tensed up by instinct but when she realized it was you, it had her giggling as you planted soft kisses on her knuckles. You raise the book that you hid from your back while you entered. "Sorry! I was reading it earlier." "I don't mind at all, don't worry." Anya shakes her head with a smile and cups your cheek and you beam. That was one of the small signals she gave that says she's fine with this. She brushes your cheek for a moment as you lean into her touch, then you feel her carefully tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. You immediately wrap your arms around her waist and lean in for a kiss- kisses. Lots of them. You start off on her cheek, then her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, then a peck to her lips and she was softly laughing the whole time, both from the affection and how ticklish it was.

[ Curly ]

🩹 Not a fan of PDA either. you gotta do it when you both get privacy.

🩹 So you do it with every chance you get.

You spot Jimmy lingering back at the lounge without your beloved Captain? You're beelining towards the cockpit. Alone in the kitchen? You're on him. Hallways? Oh, Captai—in! Even if he scolds and chastises you for it, he loves it. He does the same anyways. One time though, you were both in the lounge reading together when you eventually got bored. You peek at your partner who was heavily invested at the article when suddenly the item gets pushed away and replaced by you on his lap. Before he could even warn you, you grabbed his face and showered him with kisses. Curly gives in and hugs you, it should be alright since no one's here, right? He'll let it slide for now. When you part, he had a stupid grin on his face. "Darling, have I ever taught you how to aim?" With a chuckle, you shake your head and you both lean in for a kiss. "How does a lesson tonight in your quarters sound, Captain?" "Perhaps we could reschedule for an earlier time. How does right now sound?" "Perfect."

[ Daisuke ]

🌺 Usually, it's him who does the guerilla attacks. It's a little game you guys play. The more of a surprise kiss streak you have, the better.

🌺 So far he's on the lead, but not for long.

You had to borrow Anya's lipstick for this. Carefully planned this siege (it only took like 10 minutes). Daisuke had just finished doing inventory, Swansea's back in utility and you're by the storage closet by the hallway and you hear familiar footsteps. In approximately 5.0224 seconds, your target is going to pass by the said storage room aka your location right now. You brace for it, nervous. You push your doubts that it was another person for now and just go for it. Slamming your partner onto the wall as he squeals, you shut the door and yank on the string to turn the light on. It was dim but you could see the look on his face and you burst out laughing. "Dude, I thought we had some psycho hiding up in here! I thought I was gonna die!" "Yeah, you will." "Fuck you mean by tha— mpFfF?!" Your lips smash against his and you could tell some of the lipstick smeared. His awkward tense pose loosens up and his hands move away from the walls to your hips as he returns it and you part as he tries not to chase after you. "Got ya' good, huh?" "Whaaaaat?" He drawls out with a voice crack, looking away. "I don't know man, you gotta do that again so we can find out." With a pffsh, you start kissing him everywhere, his beauty marks, his lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, probably even on his collar. Next thing you know, you both pop out the storage room, Swansea looking like he almost had a heart attack while he stares at the both of you in judgement. Daisuke had a lovestruck expression while his face, neck, and shirt collars were filled with lipstick marks and yours were smudged on your lips.

[ Jimmy ]

🔪 he hates it. he likes it so much he hates it.

🔪 prefers doing it himself though.

Shitty day as always. He wasn't in the mood and he can't bother you which made his day a whole lot worse. It's stupid, why was he so dependent over your attention. It should be the other way around. Once you were done with your shift, you decided to find the co-pilot. At his usual thinking spot, chewing on a toothpick. God, he needs his nicotine. You were silent, only walking towards his way, too busy with his thoughts to even notice you. Not until you plant a kiss on his cheek and his head whips to your direction, almost bumping heads. You smile and peck his lips this time. "You okay?" Were you pitying him? "Fuckin' peachy." Suddenly, you were pressed up against the wall, caged in-between his arms and you look up at him confused. He flicks the toothpick somewhere and he starts peppering your face with kisses. It was all soft at first, not until he nips at your lip before kissing you roughly. Your lips would probably bruise later on.

[ Swansea ]

🦢 this can be interpreted as romantic/familial honestly

🦢 he seems annoyed by it but in reality, he thinks it's sweet. never admitting it though.

Wake rock was softly playing in the background. You were busy cleaning up in the utility room while Swansea was repairing some wires when he suddenly flinches and cusses loudly, shaking his hand. He got grounded. Now he's grumbling over where Daisuke was when he needed him to do the work. Probably needed to release his frustrations elsewhere by light-heartedly shit talking his intern. You knew he didn't mean it. Tilting your head curiously, you moved closer, peeking over his shoulder to watch him work for a moment. And just when he moves his hands away from the box, you hug him from the side and kiss his cheek repeatedly. "Jesus! Warn a man will ya'?!" "I'm done cleaning! I'll go on break now, boss!" "Yeah, yeah." He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he had a small smile on his face as he continued working. Seriously, who does this to their mentor? Kids these days.

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter one ♡

Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, your best friend. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.

Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.

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.

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