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navybrat817 · 11 months ago

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Soak in the Tub

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You want to relax in the bathtub with Bucky. He wants to make you feel good.

Word Count: Over 1.9k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, fingering, implied unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: My first Bucky Barnes Smut Menu fic of 2024, courtesy of @ellemj, and it belongs to Stud and Smartie, thanks to a sweet nonnie's inspiration. Crossing off roommate and fingering. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Take a bath with me, Stud.”

Bucky sat in his chair with a book in hand as you walked by in your robe. You glanced behind you just in time to see him look up from the page and sweep his gaze over your body. “Was that a request or an order?” He asked, placing the bookmark in-between the pages.

You raised an eyebrow as you turned back toward him. “Let’s call it an order in the form of a request,” you teased, putting a hand on your hip when he pretended to consider it. “Come on. Please?”

It was a quiet afternoon and the two of you had nowhere to be. As much as you didn't want to interrupt his reading, you finished the puzzle you were working on earlier and wanted just a bit of attention. Not much, but some.

And as soon as you finished soaking in the tub, he could go right back to reading.

He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “And why are you heading toward my bathroom and not yours?”

You loosened the tie on your robe enough to expose some of your skin, your heart pounding against your ribcage when his eyes followed the motion. You both knew he was going to join you. “Because your bathroom has the bigger tub,” you reminded him. It was only fair that he got the luxurious bathtub since the apartment was his long before you moved in. “And we both know you love the oil I use.”

“That’s our little secret, Smartie.” Bucky set the book aside and pushed himself to his feet. It was your turn to stare as he stretched, the bottom of his shirt riding up to expose the top of his underwear and just enough of his chiseled abs that your brain began to shut down and reboot. “Should I take my shirt off for you so you can see more of me?”

Fucking duh.

You blinked rapidly and felt your cheeks heat up when he smirked, but you refused to feel shame that he caught you staring. You had every right to look at the gorgeous specimen that was your roommate and lover. Considering he looked at you as if he could swallow you whole at any given moment, it was only fair to return the favor.

“I want you to take everything off. I’ll start,” you said, taking a breath before you pushed the robe from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

As it pooled at your feet, you saw nothing but love and desire in his azure eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered, your confidence soaring when you heard his metal fingers curl.

You fought the urge to grip his long hair and drag him in for a deep kiss. If you did, you wouldn't make it to the bathtub and you really wanted a soak. “You can join me when you pick your jaw up off the floor,” you smiled, turning and walking away with a sway of your hips.

You exhaled when you got to his bathroom, your legs a little wobbly and an ache growing between your legs. It wouldn't be long until Bucky joined you, so you went right to the tub and turned the water on. You tested it with your fingers before you added the oil, inhaling the scent with a hum.

“Took me a minute to pick my jaw up,” Bucky said from behind you as you straightened up and spun around. “You're just too beautiful.”

You somehow managed not to preen from his compliment or collapse when you stared his muscular chest and abdomen, his clothes long gone. You took an extra second to admire the naked man in front of you. He heard from you more than once that he had the body of a god, one to worship and die for. His thick cock only made your knees weaken more as you glanced down.

Fuck, I want it in my pussy. In my mouth. Just give it to me.

But beneath the gorgeous package, Bucky was stunning because he was the best man you knew. No one affected you the way he did. You suspected no matter how long you were together that it would always be that way.

“So, you had me slack jawed and now I render you speechless,” he winked, brushing his body against yours as he moved close to the tub. “We’re quite the pair.”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled, your heart swelling before he turned and gave you a chance to check out his backside.

Would he fault me if I bit one of his cheeks?

Bucky stepped into the tub with a sigh and slowly sank down, nodding for you to join him as he spread his massive thighs. You let out a moan of appreciation as you got in and sat down between his legs. As large as he was, there was enough space that the two of you could relax together.

Whatever home the two of you eventually moved into or had built would have to have a nice soaker tub.

“We really are quite the pair,” he told you, bringing another smile to your face. “I’m keeping you forever.”

And ever.

“I’m keeping you, too.”

As he wrapped his arms around you to pull you back against him, you were happy to sit there in comfortable silence. You cherished the conversations you had, but also adored the moments like this when you said nothing at all. Where you could just hold each other and feel secure and connected.

That's love.

Bucky used his foot to turn the water once it was high enough and put some soap in the nearby washcloth, drawing a gasp from you when he brought it to your inner thigh.

“You do know I can wash myself,” you teased, but didn't stop him from moving it along your leg.

“I know you can,” he said, your stomach flipping as his hand moved higher. It was a completely innocent gesture, but he could make anything sinful. “But I like doing these kinds of things for you.”

The unwavering sincerity in his tone made your heart melt. “Thank you.”

He switched to your other leg as your body relaxed more, your thighs parting without him needing to ask. Your body was completely in tune with him. And it was nice to have someone who wanted to take care of you.

“So, was there any particular reason why you wanted to have a bath together?” He asked against your skin, his hot breath making you shiver and tilt your head slightly.

“Just wanted you to relax with me,” you replied, a whimper slipping out as his lips moved delicately along your neck. Your eyes fluttered, thankful that you were sitting since you felt weak in the knees.

Bucky made a sound like he didn't quite believe you. “Maybe you did, but I also think you wanted me in here so I could see you naked,” he said, dropping the washcloth into the water before his hand moved up your trembling thigh again. He placed a soft kiss beneath your ear when he added in a low voice, “And feel how wet you are.”

Your breath caught as you looked between your legs in time to see his large hand cup your mound. You jutted your hips up in the hope to get some friction and he took mercy on you by brushing a finger along your folds. “I’m always wet for you, Bucky,” you whispered, gasping when he teased your entrance. “Feel me.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder with a groan when he pushed a thick finger inside, his palm pressing against your clit. “I feel you,” he rasped when he slid another finger in. “Do you know how good it makes me feel knowing how much you want me?” He asked, brushing his metal hand over your breasts, taking a moment to tease your hardened nipples and send a ripple of pleasure through you. “Feels so fucking good.”

The fact that he can get that hand wet and still… Oh, fuck. Right there.

“How could I not want you? I want you so badly,” you moaned, the water splashing around you gently when you bucked your hips. “I want your big, fat cock inside me. Please,” you begged, surprising you with how easily the dirty words tumbled out.

“Jesus fuck. You're killing me,” he grunted, his fingers thrusting and lightly curling inside of your soaked pussy as his other hand slid to your neck. “Telling me you need to relax when you need me to fuck you.”

Both. I need both things.

You whined when you felt his cock press against the curve of your ass. “Please. Fuck me, fuck me,” you chanted, your walls tightening around the thick digits as they pushed in deeper.

He nearly growled when he gripped your chin and turned your head toward his, devouring your mouth. You encouraged him to deepen the kiss as you parted your lips and let him slip his tongue inside. The taste of him was intoxicating. You wanted to get drunk on him.

“Come on my fingers first,” he whispered against your lips when he pulled away. You were unable to keep from whimpering when he circled his palm against your clit, heat radiating from your core. “Come on, pretty girl. Show me how badly you want my cock.”

You reached back to grip his hair when your orgasm hit you hard and fast, your other hand holding his arm as your cries bounced off the walls. His fingers stretched and rubbed you through it, your toes curling and eyes slipping shut. His lips touched your temple when your legs shook, swept away by his desire.

“That’s it. Get my fingers wet. So fucking beautiful,” he praised before you turned your head again and sought out his lips, your heart racing as you came down. His fingers didn't stop until you whined into his mouth, your breathing heavy when your head fell back.

“Did I…” you smiled with hazy eyes as he carefully slipped his fingers out of your quivering hole. “Earn your cock?”

Bucky chuckled as he helped you sit up, his hands gently caressing your arms like he just had to touch you. “More than earned it. And we can relax some more after I finish inside you.”

You trembled all over again. “Even if we get water all over the floor?” You asked, letting him turn you to face him.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours and a swirl of emotions hit you as you held his face in your hands. He made you comfortable and so at ease with yourself. He was your friend as much as he was your lover. He also made you feel desired.

Most importantly, he made you feel loved.

“We can flood the whole fucking apartment for all I care,” he smiled, stealing the breath from your lungs when he pulled you in for a kiss.

The water was cold by the time Bucky was done with you, which gave him all the more reason to hold you after he helped dry you off. He even put your head in his lap so he could keep you close as he finished reading the recent chapter of his book. Alpine and Soot came out to keep you company, too. It was the perfect afternoon.

All thanks to Stud and his deluxe bathtub.

Oh, these two. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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dazedandconfused-15 · 3 months ago

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Heaven's in your eyes (Part 4)

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment and reblog this story, I'm really glad you're sticking with me on this journey!!

If you're enjoying it, a reblog would mean a lot to me and really helps get this fanfic out there! 🫶

Enjoy...

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1 Part 2, and Part 3

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @nocturnest @the-freak-cassie-313 @rainy-darling @nina-from-317

From then on, you become much more observant. Billy and you meet up after school to do homework, go for walks, grab some food or just hang out. You start noticing small details, like how sometimes his shirt is buttoned up a bit higher than usual, even in warm weather. Occasionally, you catch sight of a bruise on his skin. You refrain from bombarding him with questions, but it's challenging to stay silent when the wounds are obvious. Thankfully, it's never as severe as that night he showed up battered. You quickly understand that this topic is off-limits for him, so you let it go, hoping that someday, he'll feel comfortable enough to open up to you.

For the first time in what feels like ages, happiness seeps into your days. Suddenly, the world seems brighter, nights feel less daunting, and even the mundane surroundings regain a hint of color. But deep down, you know this fragile balance won't last.

And just like that, everything shifts during a Wednesday afternoon gym class. You're deep into a basketball game. A teammate passes you the ball, and with quick reflexes, you snatch it and charge towards the basket. It all happens in a blur, catching you off guard, until a sharp pang shoots through your knees as they collide with the unforgiving, polished wood of the gym floor. Your heart races as you instinctively extend your arms, just in time to protect your face from the impact. Amid the chaos, the coach's whistle cuts through the noise, and through the fog of pain, a pair of trainers come into focus right before your eyes.

“What happened?”

“She tripped, Coach,” says the voice belonging to the person in those shoes. Your gaze shifts upward, meeting the mocking eyes of Tina Williams. She stands with one hand on her hip, casually chewing her gum. A moment later, she steps aside as the coach kneels in front of you.

The contrast is stark—where there was once the commotion of squeaking shoes and shouts, there's now a hushed stillness. Half the class has gathered around, watching in silence.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" the coach asks you, resting his hand on your arm.

deliberately tripped you, sending you crashing to the floor. The pain in your knees isn't unbearable, but your skin is clearly scraped. The sting from where they hit the ground and slid across the floor is still sharp.

"Oh man, we need to disinfect these," the coach remarks, examining your peeling, reddened knees where raw flesh is visible. "I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

"No, no. It's fine." you say, your voice slightly shaky as he helps you to your feet. "It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," you murmur, catching the faint snickers of Vicky Muller and Carol Perkins as they whisper to Tina, their voices low but filled with amusement.

The coach makes you sit on the benches for the rest of the hour. As the game continues, you become a spectator in every sense—watching the game and the entire situation unfold, feeling completely disconnected from your own body. Your mind drifts, detaching from everything around you. You’re certain Tina tripped you on purpose, but the reason eludes you. Anxiety gnaws at you, leaving a pit in your stomach. When the game finally ends, you follow your classmates into the locker room, keeping your eyes downcast, avoiding any confrontations. All you want is to leave, to escape this uncomfortable situation.

But as you open your locker, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Reluctantly, you turn, only to find yourself face-to-face with Tina. Vicky stands beside her, arms crossed, with an expression that clearly shows she's anticipating some entertainment, barely able to contain her laughter.

Tina nods toward your knees. “How are your knees?”

You want to snap back, to demand what her problem is, but instead, you choose the path of least resistance. Maybe if you play along, this will all blow over.

“It’s nothing serious. It’ll pass,” you say, forcing a small smile before turning back to your locker.

Tina snorts, and there’s a brief, tense silence. “What’s your deal with Billy?”

Your hand freezes in mid-motion as everything suddenly clicks into place. Slowly, you turn back to her, realizing there’s no avoiding this conversation.

You decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?”

You swallow, taking in her mocking expression. The locker room falls silent as your classmates stop what they’re doing to watch the scene unfold. In the background, Carol wears a wicked smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I barely know him,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation, not wanting any trouble.

You know that Billy had gone out with Tina a few times not too long ago. It was supposedly nothing serious and ended as quickly as it began. Rumor has it that after they’d hooked up in his Camaro, he drove her home and never called her again.

“Please. You think we’re dumb?” Vicky chimes in. “We’ve seen you hanging with him.”

“I…”

“Listen, honey,” Tina cuts you off, unfolding her arms and stepping toward you. Her tone is anything but sweet, almost aggressive. “I don’t care what the hell you’re up to. But stop it.”

“Wha…”

“You really think he’d be interested in someone like you? Take a good look at yourself,” she sneers, her gaze sweeping over you, making you instantly self-conscious. “Make sure you’re not carrying fleas before you get near guys like Billy. God knows what’s lurking in that cesspool you call home.”

“Or STDs,” Carol chimes in with a smirk. “Like mother, like daughter.”

The comment hits you like a punch to the gut, the pain in your knees forgotten as a deeper ache settles in. The room is filled with your classmates, yet you’ve never felt so alone. Some stand in silent shock, others hold back amused grins, enjoying the spectacle.

“So yeah, stay away from him. Got it?” Tina snaps her bubble gum, her eyes daring you to respond.

They don’t wait for an answer, turning away and leaving you frozen in place. As you open your locker and reach for your clothes, you realize with a sinking feeling that they’re soaked. Water drips onto the floor, soaking your sneakers, and panic rises in your chest. You quickly grab your backpack, hoping it’s unharmed, but find it just as wet, the contents inside ruined.

Murmurs and giggles fill the room as Tina’s voice drifts over again, soft but cutting. “Sorry about that. Maybe next time you’ll know your place.”

You leave school wearing your damp clothes, shivering as the rain falls down on you. The thought of enduring two more hours of English literature is unbearable. Despite your efforts to dry your clothes and backpack, the dampness clings to you, making the weight of it all feel heavier. The mile-long walk home feels endless as your mind replays the scene in the gym and locker room. You wonder how you could have been so naive, so foolish to think you could find a bit of happiness without something going wrong. The cold air stings your wet cheeks, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the ground. Your knees burn, but nothing compares to the deep, burning shame inside you.

When you finally reach home, you’re grateful your father is still at work, sparing you from having to explain why you’re home early or why you look so miserable. You retreat to the shower, letting the hot water pour over you until the steam is so thick you can’t even see the tiles. Later, you curl up on the couch under a blanket, staring blankly at the TV, your mind far away. The phone rings, breaking the silence, but you don’t have the energy to answer it. Whoever is calling is persistent, though, and the ringing continues.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pick up the receiver, trying to keep your voice from sounding hollow.

“Hello?”

“It’s Billy.”

His warm voice is like a balm, soothing your frayed nerves, but it also brings back the harsh memories of the day. The ugly events replay in your mind, and guilt washes over you as you imagine him waiting by his Camaro, only to realize you wouldn’t be showing up.

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that,” you croak, clearing your throat. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“What happened?”

“I’m just under the weather. That’s all. I think I’m getting sick.”

A heavy silence hangs between you as you twist the phone cord around your fingers, the tension in your grip turning your skin white. You can only hear your own breathing, and you hope desperately that he believes you, that he won’t push for more.

“You sure?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, I promise. I just need to rest.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Hey, Billy?” you blurt out, stopping yourself before your voice cracks. The knot in your throat tightens as you struggle with the urge to be honest with him. It doesn’t seem fair to lie, knowing this might be one of the last times you hear his voice. “Thanks for calling,” you manage to say once you’re sure your voice won’t break.

“Don’t mention it. Bye, sweetheart.”

You hang up before you can respond, the warmth of his endearment slicing through you, leaving you on the verge of tears. It’s not just him—it’s everything. The whole situation weighs on you. You glance at the picture of you and your mom on the hall shelf, taken when you were just two years old in her arms. Your dad still keeps it, a reminder of the past. Billy has managed to make your life easier, not by making you forget, but by showing you that happiness was still possible. But today, all those old wounds are reopened. The void left by her, and now by him, feels deeper than ever. That’s the risk of letting people into your life—they eventually leave, and all you’re left with is the emptiness they once filled.

You stay home for the next two days. On Friday, it still hasn’t stopped raining. The day drags on endless, each hour feeling like an eternity. You struggle to find the strength to peel yourself out of bed, your stomach tied in knots, rendering breakfast an impossible feat. As rain continues to patter against the window, casting a dreary backdrop, you find yourself lost in a numb trance, gazing blankly at the vivid greenery outside. Only in the afternoon does your hunger finally overpower the turmoil within, prompting you to rustle up a simple cheese toast to appease your growling stomach. Settling in front of the TV, you attempt to distract yourself from the weight of the day's events. By the late afternoon, as your dad arrives home, you force yourself to summon a facade of composure, determined not to burden him with worries. Then the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your trance, and you get up to see who's there.

As you open the door, Billy is standing here, his hands on his leather jacket pockets, his gaze wandering off to the side, but turns to look immediately at you. He’s as pretty as the last time you saw him. His eyes lock with yours, making you weak in the knee.

“Oh. Hey.” you softly say, completely taken off guard by his presence on your front door.

“Hey.”

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask, trying your best to not sound rude. You’re just confused.

Billy shrugs. “You didn’t answer when I called. Figured I would come to you instead.”

His response leaves you speechless. You’re struck by his persistence, amazed that he hasn’t grown tired of you, given his tendency to quickly lose interest in people. He says it so casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it stirs something inside you that you can’t quite put into words.

Amusement flicks over his face. “You gonna let me in, or what?”

You excuse yourself by straightening up from your position against the door, opening it wide to let him in. Billy wipes his shoes on the doormat before stepping in. A strange energy seems to be unleashed when your bodies are close to each other. It makes you feel electric. You’ve never believed in those things, but it’s almost like your auras are touching.

You look up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at each other.

“Sorry, my dad’s here,” you say as you see him look up behind you toward the living room.

Although very subtle, you notice how his body tenses up when your father approaches him and you introduce Billy to him. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad shakes his hand, a warm smile on his face. “Ah, so you must be Billy. She keeps talking about you.”

Billy lets out a nervous chuckle, briefly glancing at you. You find yourself looking at the ground, cheeks flushed. "Hope she said good things."

“All I can say is that you’re good to her, son. Haven’t seen my daughter smiling this often in a long time. She never talks to me about her friends.” he rests his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you can feel Billy’s eyes on you, boring a hole through your skin. “She’s good to me too.”

Your dad gestures toward the kitchen. “Have you had dinner yet? We made some roasted chicken tonight, it’s delicious.”

Billy shakes his head. “Thank you, sir, I had dinner earlier.”

“Come have a drink then.” your dad already walks backward to the kitchen. “What can I get you?”

“Dad…” you softly say at his enthusiasm. You never have people over. It’s been a long time since you had them. Not since…well. And you understand your dad lights up as a candle with joy. He’s getting too enthusiastic already.

“You look over eighteen. Beer? Some red wine?”

Billy glances at you, his hand in his pockets, then slowly follows him to the kitchen. He looks like a wary animal taking in his surroundings. “Beer is fine. Thank you, sir.”

You follow behind Billy, feeling suddenly so uneasy in your own house. Your eyes follow his broad back as he enters the kitchen, the air already smelling like leather. Like him.

Your dad, with a casual wave of his hand, says, "Ah, don't bother with all those formalities around me.”

Billy leans against the counter as your dad extends an uncapped bottle of beer, clinking it against his own. You notice how he stiffens slightly again when your dad mentions remembering his last name, knowing his father. His attitude becomes more reserved, and he answers with small sentences. Especially when your dad mentions how despite having talked to him only a few times at Melvald’s downtown and the bank, he looks like a tough guy. However, your dad is easygoing and his attitude warm, and slowly, throughout the conversation, Billy seems to ease up too. His shoulders relax, and a real laugh escapes him a time or two. You knew they shared some interests, but you didn’t expect them to talk about California for so long. Your dad recounts his younger years living in there, how he spent his days surfing and working in a garage for his own dad’s friend to get some money. Billy did the same back there. He tells your dad how you mentioned some of it to him, then how many more people there are since the 60s, how Will Rogers State Beach is now crowded with tourists.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything to eat? Hell, there’s plenty of that chicken and it’s only the two of us.” you dad offers again.

Billy settles the empty beer on the counter. “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you. I was hoping to take her on a ride, to get some fresh air if that’s alright with you.”

Your dad looks at you and you give him a small smile, though you didn’t expect or plan any of it. He nods in approval.

“Sure, kids. Be careful, yeah? It was nice to meet you Billy.”

“Same. Thank you for the beer.”

Your dad winks at him. “Anytime. You’re always welcome.”

At first, silence hangs between the two of you. Billy doesn’t mention it as he drives you toward downtown, and your mind is elsewhere. You’re there physically, but your thoughts are consumed by how wrong it feels to be in the car with him. Your plans to keep your distance have been shattered by his unexpected presence. His decision to come to you makes everything ten times harder. You’re unsure how you’ll find the right words to express yourself without offending him—or worse, hurting him. But then again, maybe you’re overthinking it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel as connected to you as you do to him. Chances are, you’ll be the one left hurting in the end.

Billy casually suggests getting a milkshake at the diner, then lapses back into silence, leaving you unsure whether to thank him or ask him to break the quiet. He doesn’t make it easy. When he parks in front of the diner, he opens the passenger door for you. Physical contact has become second nature between you two—small, almost unconscious gestures, especially on his part. But they always send your heart racing. This time, as he touches your back, gently guiding you inside while holding the diner door open, your heartbeat spikes dangerously.

You usually have a sweet tooth, and the milkshakes at Starlight Grill are delicious, but today, your thoughts have robbed you of your appetite. Billy insists you get something, and when you hesitate, he suggests sharing a milkshake.

When the waitress brings the milkshake along with the bill, Billy takes the first sip. You reach into your pocket for some coins.

“What are you doing?”

“Just, paying.” You murmur absent-mindedly, counting the coins. Billy's hand appears in front of you, putting them aside.

“Put that away.”

You sigh, meeting his gaze. "Billy."

He casually slides the milkshake in front of you, his half-lidded eyes locked on yours, completely unfazed by your feeble attempts to resist. The purple lights of the diner cast a soft glow, highlighting his features and making his mustache stand out more than usual. You can't help but marvel at how effortlessly handsome he always looks. Meanwhile, you feel out of place in your loose jumper, with no makeup and your hair barely combed.

You notice that there is only one straw in the milkshake. “Oh, they didn’t bring another one.”

“It’s fine. Drink it,” his features shifting to an amused look. “Unless it grosses you out.”

“No, no! Of course not.” you hastily assure him before bringing the straw to your lips. The rich taste of chocolate floods your senses with a pleasant sensation, despite your lack of hunger. You resist the temptation to indulge in a bit of the whipped cream from the top of the milkshake.

“Feel better today?” he asks as he watches you, leaning back against the bench.

“Uh, yes. A bit better.” you lie, your eyes on the table. You’re unable to look at him.

You instinctively tighten your grip on the cold glass of the milkshake, startled by the sudden warmth of his palm on your forehead.

“Yeah. No fever, anyway,” he says.

“How did you do on the test yesterday?” you ask instead, eager to change the topic.

Billy leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he brings the milkshake closer to himself, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Eh, not bad. I think I passed," he replies before taking a sip from the straw. “Jesus, this shit is sweet as hell.” he mutters, peering down at the milkshake as if it personally wronged him.

You let out a soft laugh at his expression. When you sat down, he asked you what flavor you liked and ordered it without hesitation. You realize with a pang of guilt that you hadn't even bothered to ask him if he liked it.

“Sorry… too much?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Just a bit sweet.” he pushes the milkshake toward you, your fingers brushing each other as you take the glass. “I’m more of a savory type of guy.”

"Oh," you sheepishly respond, brushing your thumb against the cold glass to clear away some moisture. “I’m more of a sweet type of girl.”

"You are," he says, his voice carrying a subtle warmth that catches your attention.

You lift your gaze toward him, struck by the underlying tone in his words. Billy dips his pinky in the whipped cream and brings it to his mouth. Red lips suck around the skin, his tongue licking the whipped cream away. You take a sip of the milkshake to distract yourself from the stirring movement in your lower belly.

“So what’s your favorite?” he then casually asks, as if he didn’t just do the most provocative thing ever.

“My what?” you ask as if coming back to reality.

“Your favorite dessert.”

“Oh uhm, I guess my mom’s tiramisu,” you stop to think about all the summers spent eating your mom’s tiramisu in the back of your house in the garden, the happy memory becoming bittersweet. “I didn’t like it when I was younger, I used to make all of those faces when I tasted the coffee.” Billy snorts a soft laugh as he looks at you. “She used to make it all the time when it was warm outside.” you say as you play with the straw.”

“You know how to make it?”

“Yes. She taught me.”

“You’ll have to make me one, someday.”

You meet his eyes, still intently on you, and you lower your gaze while stretching your lips into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. How you wish there was a chance to do this.

“What’s yours?” you ask instead, ignoring how your heart is aching.

Billy hums thoughtfully, dragging the milkshake toward him. “I’d say the tacos from the Mexican joint in Mission Beach. Hands down.”

“What do they put in them?”

Billy sucks on the straw before setting the glass aside. “Okay, so picture this,” he leans his elbows on the table. “They have this way of cooking the beef, it’s tender and juicy ‘cause they dip it in the stew, and it’s seasoned just right."

A smile slowly spreads on your face without you realizing it as he gets enthusiastic about it.

“Then they sprinkle some lime on it.” he mimics the sprinkling, his eyes squinting a tiny bit. "And then there's the crunch of the shell, just crispy enough to contrast with the beef. Then they top it with cheese and jalapeños. Man,” you giggle as he lightly slaps his palm on the table. He turns his head to the side, momentarily lost in thought as he contemplates. “It’s something else.”

“It sounds delicious.” you nod, a laugh escaping your lips.

As Billy looks back at you, his face is closer to yours as you leaned on the table too. His blue eyes bore into yours. “It’s five-star type of food, babe. Unmatched.”

His voice is warm like dripping honey and your stomach flips, his half-lidded gaze trapping you there is both charming and dangerous. You’re scared of the things your body is feeling.

“I wish I could try it.”

“You will. Told you I would take you there.”

He scans your face, catching each of your reactions from up close as your breath hitches in your throat. “I thought you were joking.”

“I never was.”

You wonder what would happen if you just listened to your instincts right now. If only he lifted the sleeves of your sweater, he’d see the goosebumps on your arms. If he could press his ear to your chest, he’d hear your heart racing. But following your instincts feels too risky. A little voice inside reminds you that all this chemistry between you two might just be in your head. You're building castles in the air; your deluded heart is playing tricks on you. Tina’s voice chimes in too: “What would a guy like him want with someone like you?” So, you pull away, and as you do, your heartbeat slows down a little.

You clear your voice, grabbing the milkshake. “Anyway, I better get home soon. It’s almost ten.”

With only a little milkshake left, you finish it without meeting his gaze, deciding to switch the topic to how you caught up with homework while staying at home. He doesn’t comment on it, biting into it and telling you about the history test on that Wednesday.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks you once on the drive home.

He lowers the volume of the radio, Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy’ reduced to background noise. You hesitate. You don’t know how to tell him. You’ve never been good at cutting ties with people. You’ve never been ready. You never will be.

“I’m just not in a good place right now.”

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Billy responds, his voice low and steady. "But what's got you feeling this way?"

You figure that the best way is to be straightforward, though.

“I know this might sound weird," you begin, already feeling a pang of regret for how you're about to phrase it. Your nails press into the palm of your hands as you twist them together, your eyes locked on the shifting scenery outside. “You’ll probably don’t understand it. But I think we have to stop seeing each other. Hanging around together.”

At first, your words hang heavy in the air, met only with silence that feels like a weight on your chest. You can't help but replay what you just said in your mind, wondering if you came off too harshly. It's a familiar feeling, the aftermath of saying something you can't take back, and in this moment, it feels far too aggressive.

As you battle with yourself, searching desperately for the right words to soften the blow, you find that every script you rehearsed in your head falls short. Billy's silence only adds to your internal turmoil, leaving you mentally slapping yourself for the brutal way you phrased it.

Billy licks his lips. “If I did something wrong,” he starts.

“No, it’s not that.”

“...Or if I made you feel uncomfortable, you gotta tell me.”

“No. Billy, please don’t think that. You haven’t done anything wrong.” you interject quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in reassurance.

He glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road, his expression unreadable. The tension in the car is palpable as he waits for you to explain further.

“I just…” you begin, running a hand through your hair in a nervous gesture. “I don’t think it’s good for you to be around me."

"Huh," he responds, his tone indicating he finds your reasoning perplexing. "What does that mean?"

You begin cautiously, choosing your words carefully, "I'm just not... I'm not exactly the embodiment of happiness, you know? And I don't want to bring you down with me."

"You think you're gonna bring me down?"

You nod slowly, unable to meet his gaze. "I just don't want to drag you into my mess," you admit quietly. “I have a lot to deal with myself. Please believe me when I say that it’s not a good idea.”

"That's it? That's why you think we should stop hanging out?" Billy's voice carries a blend of disbelief and skepticism as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your explanation.

His response catches you off guard. Shouldn't your reason suffice? After all, it's what led to the end of friendships with Nancy and Claire. They understood and let you go. And deep down, you understand that too.

“No, it’s not just that…” you feel increasingly frustrated with the situation, it feels harder than you anticipated.

"Hey, if I'm not your cup of tea, or if I'm making you feel awkward, just say the word. No hard feelings. We can't all be everyone's favorite flavor. But let's keep it real, yeah?"

"No, it's not that at all, Billy!" you blurt out, your voice rising slightly with surprise. "I like you. I really do," you continue, your voice softening as shyness creeps in at the urgency of your confession. As you speak, Billy pulls the car to a stop in front of your place. "More than anyone else in this whole town."

Billy doesn’t talk for what seems like an eternity. You don’t dare to look at him. After almost a minute, he finally breaks the silence. “Okay, what is it, then?”

“It’s just…wrong.”

“Wrong?” he says. “Look, it’s not like I have a girlfriend and I’m ditching her to hang out with you or something.”

“Well, Tina doesn’t seem to be on the same page,” you mumble to yourself out of instinct.

Billy frowns. “What?”

That’s when you realize you talked out loud. You sigh, looking out of the window. You really hoped to avoid this conversation. It just feels wrong to use a lame excuse. You don’t wanna do that. It’s not working, anyway. You figure the best way to put it without having to unravel the whole thing.

“I don’t know what you guys are to each other-…”

“I fucked her once. That’s it.”

You wince at his words, carrying on. “...but she made pretty clear that I should stay away from you.”

At first you’re met with silence, but then Billy's reaction is a mix of disbelief and irritation. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “She's nuts," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration. "Can't believe her. Jesus."

As you fidget with your hands in your lap, a sense of resignation washes over you. That doesn’t change things. You made up your mind already. They succeeded pretty well in making you see things for what they are. In a very sadistic way, that’s for sure. It is the reality nonetheless.

“Listen, don’t pay attention to her.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s kinda hard, she’s really committed to making my life a living hell.”

Billy's expression shifts, his gaze now fixed on you with newfound seriousness. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just…” you sigh. “It’s just what I said. Bottom line is, I’m not good for you, Billy. I’m messed up and I can’t give anything good. You should be spending time with people who are stable, who have something to offer.”

Billy turns his attention back to the trailer ahead. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he pieces together the puzzle. Before you can prepare yourself, he's already connecting the dots.

He scratches his chin, then looks back at you. “Does it have to do with you ditching school for the past days?” his tone calm but unwavering.

Your answer is instinctive and almost too immediate. "No, that's..." you start, but Billy cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Don't lie to me.”

You know if there’s one thing he doesn’t like, it’s when people lie to him. He told you that before. There is no way out of this. If anything surprises you about Billy, it’s his emotional intelligence. His ability to understand what you feel just like that. How he easily and often picks up what’s on your mind. You explain everything that happened to him, noticing how his face hardens progressively as you recount the events that have weighed heavily on you. From that moment Tina deliberately tripped you up in gym class, sending you sprawling to the ground in front of everyone, to the tense confrontation in the locker room. You feel drained after talking, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck those bitches.” he growls, his voice thick with anger.

“They’re right though. We really are different.”

“Different in what? I’m a guy, you’re a girl. But then?”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, your eyes fixed on the window.

“Well, tell you what, I like spending time with you. That’s all I know,” you turn in surprise at how bluntly he said those words. “Did we ever argue or anything?”

You think back on all the times you've spent together. Whenever you were with him, it felt like everything else faded away, and it was just the two of you against the world. There was never any arguing or discord between you; instead, he had a knack for making you forget about any troubles or worries you had. Being with him was like finding a safe haven, a place where you could just be yourself and feel at peace.

“No,” you admit, feeling a knot form in your throat.

“Do you feel any different when it’s just you and me?”

“No.”

“Are you ever bored when we hang out?”

“No, never.” you breathe out, shaking your head.

“Me neither. So it’s sorted.”

“Billy, I’m…I’m complicated. My life is complicated.”

He shrugs, shifting in his seat. “I like complicated.”

Billy's stubbornness despite the doors you're trying to close between you is overwhelming both in the best and worst way.

“I just don't think you really know what you're doing," you protest weakly, unable to shake the nagging doubts that linger in the back of your mind.

“Pretty sure I do.”

“Billy,” heat rises in your cheeks as shame gnaws at your insides, your heart weighing heavy. It's hard for you to acknowledge it, let alone put it into words. “Look at me,” you point at yourself, your throat burning.

Billy's eyes scan your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his features. “I am.”

You shake your head, your throat feels ready to burst from how much it hurts. “No. Look at you, then look at me. Look at this,” you gesture toward the darkened trailer.

“You serious?”

“I am. Trust me, you don’t want to…”

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart. Come on, now. Look at me.”

You realize Billy has leaned over the console as he gently grasps your chin. “I don’t care. All I know is that I like you, alright? I don’t give a shit about the rest.”

His words cut through you, threatening to shatter the fragile barrier holding your emotions at bay. His thumb delicately traces the curve of your chin as his piercing blue eyes search yours. Frozen in place, you dare not move or speak, afraid that the slightest exhale might betray the storm of emotions raging within you.

“You hear me?” he drops his head slightly, as he softly shakes your chin to get your attention, his eyes finding yours. “I don’t care.”

You content to nod, a tear breaking free and running down your cheek. Billy licks his lips, his face inching closer to yours. “C’mere.”

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels as ancient as time itself, as though you've shared this in a thousand other lives. It's tender, lingering, filled with an unspoken longing that resonates deep within you. As you lose yourself in the kiss, his breath dances with yours, and you taste tobacco, mint and something distinctly him on his tongue, sending a wave of euphoria through you. Your hand instinctively rises, fingers curling gently around the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, yearning for more. Your heart is beating so fast you swear it’s going to explode. As you break the kiss first in search of oxygen, you’re vaguely aware of his mouth seeking yours, his face tilting forward, his half-open eyes unfocused. His fingers travel on the back of your neck, curling around it and pressing your lips more firmly against his. It’s so good that it doesn’t feel real, your body is the only thing you're aware of. It's ablaze, your heart thundering in your chest, your breath resonating in the car. But he’s here too, he’s real. Real as one can be when you feel his hot skin against your fingers where you’re holding his shirt, as his mustache tickles your mouth, then your cheek, your neck.

He’s certainly real when his voice comes as a muffled and open-mouthed whisper against your skin, buried between your neck and your hair between kisses.

“God, baby.”

It’s a soft plead, a gentle need that swells your heart. Your fingers are tangled through his curls at the nape of his neck. They’re as soft as you imagined them. You could’ve never imagined one day your fingers would run through them. His mouth finds yours again, your senses filled with the scent of him and you can’t help yourself and rest your hand on his cheek, wanting to feel him more. Time is not something tangible anymore. You don’t know how long elapses. It may be minutes, it may be hours. You just can’t seem to get enough of each other to finally break apart. Nothing has ever made you feel so good in a long time. That’s why you don’t question your tongue tangling with his, his hand searching for skin as it ventures beneath your jacket and settles on your waist, warm and big.

The loud thud of thunder outside makes you jump slightly on the seat, and with the realization that you must get inside, you slowly but finally break apart from him.

“I have to go.” you manage to say as his lips kiss your cheek and the corner of your eye instead.

His breath fans against your skin, a gentle caress that makes you shiver. Billy's eyes, still glazed with desire, slowly refocus as he registers your words. There's a flicker of disappointment, but he nods in understanding.

“Yeah. Yeah, you better get inside,” he replies in a husky voice, his eyes roaming over your face.

His lips are red and swollen with your kisses, you can’t help but steal another kiss which her eagerly accepts, planting a couple more against your mouth. They’re not as deep but full of meaning, resonating in the air.

“Call me tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes, I will,” you mumble, your cheek feeling red as you internally wish you could stay with the him forever.

As you leave the car, the cold rain immediately envelopes you, sending shivers down your spine. The rain soaks through your clothes as you navigate through the darkness. As you reach the door, you steal one last look at Billy's car, watching as he drives away into the night, the memory of his touch still lingering on your lips.

#dacre montgomery #stranger things smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #dacryphilia #eddie munson #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!oc #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader smut #billy hargrove smut #steve stranger things

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anarkittyuwuuniverse · 4 months ago

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I decided to take the advice and start monitoring and sharing some specific smaller Gaza evacuation campaigns regularly. This is Mostafa Abu Kamil, I'll let him speak for himself:

Hello

My name is Mustafa Abu Kamil, and I live in Gaza, Palestine. Despite the hardships, I worked diligently to complete my university education, dreaming of a future where I could contribute to my community. However, the relentless war has shattered these dreams, leaving me without the opportunity to work or provide for my family.

I come from a small family of three. My father, who was our pillar of strength, has tragically passed away, leaving just my mother and me to fend for ourselves. Every day is a struggle as we face the horrors of war, with the constant fear of violence and the heartbreaking inability to afford even the most basic necessities like food.

I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart, hoping for your kindness and support. Your generous donation can help me escape this dire situation and build a better future away from the ravages of war. Every contribution, no matter the size, brings me one step closer to safety and hope.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my plea. Your support means the world to me.

With heartfelt gratitude,

Mustafa Abu Kamil I have donated a bit now and spread the campaign among friends and non-anonymous social medias, please donate too!!

#free palestine #gaza funds

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chiriwritesstuff · 11 months ago

Text

The Girl in IT - 2. Off to the Races

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Previous Chapter │ The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful." "The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration." "and the carnations?" "For fascination and enchantment." "Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?" He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Joel Miller is hungry and wants to EAT, Smut, One massive Tess sized-cockblock, Boss x Employee relationship, Time Jumping to and fro, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, Joel jumps right in, Explicit language, Did I mention smut?, Soft boy Joel Miller

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: You GUYS. YOU GUYS (!!!!!)

Thank you so much for all of the love for the first chapter of my silly little series with my even sillier Old Man Joel and his Sugar. I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the likes, reblogs, and comments from all of you, it really means a lot to me! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I have the first few chapters written and planned out, and I hope to post at least a new chapter once a week. I can't make any promises as I go back to work next week, but I will try. I apologize in advance if I skip a week, it is not my intention to let you guys down.

I hope you all enjoy!

Today.

[Hey Sugar, are you in your office right now?]

Yes, did you need something, Mr. Miller?

[Yes, actually, I do. I'll come to you, don't leave!]

A knock on the door startles you.

"Hey, Sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Have you seen Joel? I know he said he had to ask you about something, but that was an hour ago-"

"Yeah?" you reply, almost in a whine, your head tipped back in pleasure as you try to muffle a scream. "Joel? No, haven't seen him around. No, not since this—"

There's a pause, and then Tommy's voice comes again, this time with a hint of amusement. "Still wrestling with his laptop, huh? The man can't even change his wallpaper without causing a crisis. I'll check his usual spots. If you see him, tell him Tess needs him in her office, pronto."

Just then, the muted sound of a cough under your desk catches your attention. You look down to find Joel, crouched beneath the desk with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Now, where were we?" he chuckles, his eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint.

“Joel!” You smack him playfully as you roll your desk chair back. “Tess will have your head if you don’t show up soon!”

“But I’m starving, baby! Just let me have a little snack-“ he pulls your chair back to him as he situates himself under your desk, lifting your skirt as he smiles at the sight of your barely-there scrap of lace one would call underwear. “Shit baby, is this for me?” He lowers his head to your aching cunt, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you closer to his mouth. He rubs the tip of his nose along your slit, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips. He licks at your covered mound, the tip of his tongue adding just enough pressure for you to gasp out in pleasure. “I asked you a question, baby girl. Who did you wear these panties for?”

“You,” you say breathily, covering your mouth to muffle up your moans as he plants kisses along your thighs. “You, Mr. Miller. Only you.”

“Who owns this pretty pussy?”

"You do, Sir."

"Damn right, I do." Joel licks his lips as he pushes your panties aside, licking your clit. "Fuck, she's aching for me, isn't she?" He locks his eyes with yours, his mouth hovering over your pussy. "Can I?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to keep quiet.

Joel shakes his head, displeased with your answer. "No baby, use your words-" he growls, nipping at your thighs as you wince in pain.

"PLEASE Joel, keep going!" He smiles at your eagerness, licking and parting your folds with his tongue. He pins you against his face, tightening his hold on you as your body trembles.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet-"

"JOEL!" Tess's voice reverberates through the hallway, the urgency evident in her heavy-footed approach, each step echoing past your office door. "Has anyone seen him?!"

Joel lets out an exasperated groan, his head dropping onto your lap as you suppress a giggle. "Duty calls, Mr. Miller. Can't keep your boss waiting, can you?"

"I am the boss, just so you're clear on that."

"Sure, Joel, keep telling yourself that."

Joel crawls out from under your desk with a grunt, stumbling onto the carpet with a thud. "I'm definitely too old for this shit," he mutters, trying to regain his footing.

"It's your list, Mr. Miller. You make the rules, I just help you execute it," you quip, smirking as you extend a hand to help him up.

He takes your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He yanks you towards him, and you end up falling into his lap. "Right where I want you," he smirks, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You smile as he starts to kiss along your jaw. "You are insatiable."

"Only for you, Sugar."

"JOEL, FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Tess bellows from across the building.

"You better go before she breaks down all the doors," you wince as you give him a small frown. "Again."

Joel sighs, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. "Fine, but once I'm done with Ms. Pain in my ass-"

"You're going to go back to work like a good boy?" you reply sweetly, straightening out your skirt as Joel heads towards the door. He gives you one last glance as he turns the doorknob, a hungry look on his face.

"This isn't over, baby girl. When I come back, I expect to eat."

Ten years earlier.

"Joel! Tommy! Thank you so much for coming! Please, come in, come in!"

Joel straightens up and smooths out his flannel, nervously fiddling with his tool belt slung taut on his hips. He gives a curt nod to the client, turning to his side expecting to find Tommy next to him. His eyes narrow at the empty space. "Tommy, you fuck," he hissed under his breath at his brother, who was casually smoking a cigarette off to the side of the client's perfectly manicured lawn. "Put that out and stop fucking around, we're getting paid for this shit!"

Tommy takes a long drag, exhaling a long plume of smoke before flicking the cigarette onto the street. "This is small-time shit, Joel. We should be playing with the big dogs, not wasting our time doing residential work. How much was the bid?"

"20."

"Bullshit. This is no more than 5, and you know it. It's just a fucking scorched roof, and at only one side, it's not even a complete replacement."

Joel scoffs at his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Have you seen the size of this fucking house? We're in fucking Westlake Hills, for fucks sake. Think of the potential! Maybe we can convince them to replace the entire roof, replace their windows... fuck, I just want to make a good impression!"

"Oh, so is that why you're dressed like a fucking moron? Cowboy boots? Really? You're 46, not 26." he appraises him as he makes his way towards the front of the house. "Don't tuck in your shirt, man. I can see your fucking beer belly from here!" Tommy looks towards the front door, the client having already retreated into the home. He cocks his head and whispers to his older brother. "Is the wife hot? Shit. Maybe I should have run a comb through my hair-"

"They want this project done in a month."

Tommy whips his head towards Joel. "Are you fucking KIDDING ME? JOEL-"

"Boys!" The client's voice cuts through the building tension between the brothers, a sweet conspiratory smile on her face. "Are you coming?" She looks out into the distance beyond the brothers, a big smile blooming across her face. "Oh, Sugar! come and meet the boys who are fixing up the roof, you know, the side where your antenna thing exploded?" She beckons to the figure who was suddenly behind them, motioning her to join their conversation.

She's a sweet little thing, Joel muses, all nerves and jitters like a baby calf attempting to walk for the first time. So fucking cute, he thinks to himself. You were dressed for the brutality of the Austin summer, with barely there cut-off shorts and a tiny white baby tee, the sweat forming on your skin wetting the thin fabric, and if Joel looked hard enough, he swears he saw the outline of your nip-"

"Baby," the client rings out, forcing Joel to look away in embarrassment, a blush forming on his neck all the way up to his face. "You remember Joel Miller, the contractor we ran into in the mall?"

"Yeah. I remember. Hi, Mr. Miller."

You cringed as you approached, your head downcast as you awkwardly reached your overbearing mother. "Tommy, come and meet my daughter, we call her Sugar, because she's so sweet! She's back home from UT Dallas, she's working her way up to her master's in IT! We're all so proud of-"

"Mom," you whine, glaring at the ground as you shift around uncomfortably. "I don't think they care about what I'm doing at school."

"Don't be silly, Sugar," the mom chided with a dismissive wave. "These fine gentlemen surely appreciate a smart, capable woman, right, Joel? Tommy?"

Joel, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected introduction, nodded with a friendly smile. "Absolutely, ma'am. Education is valuable, and we're glad to have such esteemed company. It's hard enough to go through earning your bachelor's, I'm sure it's hell trying to navigate trying to get your masters!" Joel clears his throat as he gives her a nervous smile. "You look great, by the way. You look well rested, I reckon this break is doing you some good."

Tommy, giving Joel an amused look, chimed in. "Smart is the new sexy, Sugar. Nothing to be shy about. I agree," Tommy winks at his brother as his smile widens at Joel's nervous shuffling. "Joel sure likes them smart and capable, alright."

You blushed, still uncomfortable with the attention. "Well, uh, nice to meet you, Tommy, and it's nice to see you again, Joel," You mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Pleasure to see you again too, Sugar," Joel replies.

Tommy chokes on nothing as he witnesses his brother taking the girl's hand in his, placing a soft kiss on it.

"Oh, brother of mine," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at seeing how smitten his brother was for you. "For fucks sake, what the hell am I going to do with you?"

Six Months and One Week ago.

"Sugar? Is that you?"

You turn towards the deep voice, smiling at the body that it's coming from. "Mr. Miller, it's nice to see you again. Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"I heard from your mother that you got that Masters, I'm proud of you, girlie."

"Oh," you stammer, "It was nothing-"

"Don't do that," Joel says with a frown, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Do what?" you ask, matching his frown as he steps towards you. You can't help but gasp at his sudden boldness. You keep your hands glued to your sides, willing yourself to not reach out to his chest. You forgot just how much he affected you, even if it's been a decade since you've seen him last. He's older, sure, with strands of grey peppered throughout his curly hair... but he's different too, the remnants of his boyish charm morphing into something harder, more rugged, more broad. You tremble under his scrutiny. You force yourself to meet his heavy gaze. "Do what?" you repeat out louder, your voice getting caught in your throat as you push an errant strand of hair away from your face.

"You shouldn't downplay yourself like that. Earning something like your Master's is a big deal, don't sell yourself short like that, okay?"

You grant him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel, satisfied with your answer, nods. "Want to grab a cup of coffee with me?"

Six Months Ago.

"Are you sure she's good? Joel! Are you fucking listening?" Tess snaps, her fingers snapping for emphasis as Joel jolts in surprise. "It says here that she's been working at the Geek Squad for the last eight years; that's hardly enough experience to run an entire department—"

"She has her masters in Management Information Systems from UT Dallas, and the person who vouched for her-"

"Yeah, her mother? If she's as old as you, I highly doubt she can grasp what we need... what are we doing Joel? Are we just letting little old rich ladies headhunt for us now? I don't need no privileged priss in some ball gown running IT, we're a multi-million dollar company-"

"... who didn't even have a decent IT department in the first place, and now that Gloria is retiring, shit, Tess-" Joel runs his hands through his hair as he groans in frustration. "... she's better than everyone else we've interviewed, hell- at least we know that she's a lifer, being that she's worked for minimum wage at Best Buy for almost a decade! We have a chance to bring someone in to help out with the draftsmen, shit, she's even proficient in Revit! Tess, level with me: with her knowing that 3D modeling shit - we need her! More than she needs us!"

"So it's not that you want to fuck her, then?" Tess rolls her eyes as she throws your resume on his desk. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned your little high school crush on her, it's funny, you conveniently forgot to mention that-"

"Tess, don't."

"So if we decide to hire her, I won't catch you fucking her in your office? Her office? The conference room, the supply closet..." She glares at him, tipping her head back as she pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"For fucks sake Tess, are we hiring her or not?"

Tess rises from her seat, running her hands down her slacks to straighten them, and gives Joel one last glance. With a half-smile, she shakes her head as she heads toward the door. "I'll email her an offer. If she takes it, she takes it... But, I will be starting her off at our base pay."

Joel nods, suppressing the urge to beam as much as he'd like. "That's fine."

"Oh? And Joel?" She pivots back to Joel, hand on the doorknob. "I didn't hear a no. If I catch you guys in my office, I will fucking castrate you, you hear?"

Two weeks ago.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: About that list...

11:30 am (30 min ago)

Sugar,

Thanks for saving my ass last night. The meeting with The H Hotel went off with a hitch and Tess was none the wiser for my little mishap... no harm, no foul, right? Right.

About earlier today, when you said "Let's do this", was that a "Yes, maybe?" or a "Yes, definitely?" because I would very much like to do this, with you, at your pace, of course. I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm just fucking excited, you know? You have no idea how much I've wanted to talk to you back then... I let shit get into my head, you know? Fuck. I'm rambling.

Thank you for giving me a chance, Sugar. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it worth your while.

Joel

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: RE: About that list...

11:45 am (0 min ago)

Yes, definitely. Yes to all of it.

When do you want to start?

One week ago.

[Hey Sugar, are you busy?]

Not at the moment, I'm about to clock out for lunch, what's up? Did you click on a phishing link again?

[Sugar, have a little faith! Say, I'm about to head out to lunch too, meet me in the parking lot in 5?]

That's rather forward and presumptuous of you, Mr. Miller. What if I had already brought lunch from home? What if I was looking forward to eating my adult lunchable?

[What the hell is an adult lunchable? It sounds terrible! What if I take you to that little Sushi joint down the road? Would that be enough to convince you to come out with me? I'll let you snack on the lunchable on the way there.]

Hey! Don't knock my charcuterie! Also, Doesn't that "little sushi joint" have a two-month waiting list? It's impossible to get in! I thought that it was only open for dinner?

[Baby, don't you know that we built that restaurant? Masayoshi is a good friend of mine, and he owes me a favor. All it takes is one call, what do you say? Nothing's impossible for my Sugar.]

Nothing's impossible for my Sugar. Sugar. My Sugar. You read Joel's message over and over again, your stomach growling as you contemplate the current state of your life. If someone had told you six months ago that you would manage to not only crawl your way out of the depths of Geek Squad hell, snag a decent job, and catch the eye of your hot-as-fuck boss, you would have laughed in their face at how ridiculous that sounded. It is ridiculous - how one little mistake led to having everything you could have possibly wanted out of your minuscule life, hot man included. So what if you haven't had a serious relationship since college? It's not like you were with your ex long enough for you to go all the way, and even then, you weren't remotely even into him, he was too skinny and nerdy and didn't scream 'man' at all. His nervous laughter and awkward shaking did nothing for you. Joel, on the other hand- now that was a man. A man you wouldn't mind climbing like a tree, all thick and firm and sturdy...

[Sugar? You still there? Are we doing this or not?]

You snap out of your daydreaming, your decision already being made. Your hands shake as you type out your response, your fingers striking the keys with a finality that you never would have thought you would ever have the courage for. Well, you think to yourself as you press enter. Here goes nothing...

I'll be right there. See you soon.

[That's my good girl.]

"Hey, Sugar," Joel greeted with a playful grin from the driver's seat of his F-150, his arm casually resting on the open window. His eyes lingered on you as if savoring the moment. "Hop in, Masayoshi is heading over to the restaurant now."

You rolled your eyes with a teasing smirk as you approached the passenger side, clamoring into the cab with a bit of awkward grace. "Just like that? A single call to your chef friend, and he drops everything to cater to your every whim? Color me impressed, Mr. Miller."

Joel chuckled. "Well, what can I say? I am sort of a big deal." He reached for your hand across the center console, fingers intertwining, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Is this okay, Sugar?" He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a delightful flutter in your stomach. Turning your head away, you mumbled, "It's very okay, Mr. Miller."

"Now, what did I tell you?" Joel teased, a glint in his eyes. "It's Joel, none of this Mr. Miller nonsense. Save that for when we're crossing off items on my list, alright?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks as Joel's easy charm and forwardness caught you off guard. "You're going to be the death of me, Joel," you quipped, half-jokingly, half-serious, unsure how to navigate the sudden closeness. The air in the truck seemed to hum with a subtle tension, and you wondered if Joel could sense the rapid beating of your heart.

Joel's gaze held a playful sparkle, and he grinned. "Well, Sugar, I hope it's a good way to go." He revved the engine, and the truck rumbled to life as he pulled out onto the road.

"So, Sugar, tell me something interesting about yourself," his fingers tapping the steering wheel to an imaginary beat.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, Joel, I like to teach myself new things, I have a British shorthair named Sir Bubbles, you know, because I was obsessed with Bridgerton, And, by the way, it's Mr. Miller only when executing things on your list, right?" you teased, recalling his earlier remark.

Joel shot you a sly grin. "Sharp memory, Sugar. You're catching on quickly."

As you neared the sushi restaurant, the conversation seamlessly transitioned to lighter topics. Joel shared stories about his work, and how it felt working with Tommy and Tess, and you found yourself drawn into his earnestness and honesty. The playful banter continued as Joel made his way towards the edge of town, your cheeks hurting from how easy it was to smile in his company.

Parking the truck, Joel turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. "Ready for some sushi and more of my irresistibly charming company, Sugar?"

You roll your eyes, feigning reluctance. "Oh, the charm? I don't know if I can handle it, Mr. Miller."

He grins, opening your door with a flourish. "Well, brace yourself, because it's coming."

As you step out, Joel pauses, reaching behind your seat. "Wait a sec," he says, unveiling what looks like the botanical equivalent of a small garden. "A little something to brighten up your day."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this part of the list?"

Joel chuckles. "Maybe."

You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful."

"The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration."

"and the carnations?"

"For fascination and enchantment."

"Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?"

He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

You playfully roll your eyes, holding the bouquet to your chest. "You're quite the charmer, Mr. Miller."

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, taking your hand as you both head towards the sushi restaurant. "After you, baby girl."

After lunch, you and Joel emerge to find the heavens have opened up, rain pouring down in sheets. Joel stops you in your tracks, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sincerity and mischief.

With a twinkle in his eye, he asks, "Mind if I tick off the first thing on my list?"

You smile, stepping closer to Joel as he tucks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the both of you soaked to the bone.

"Yes please, Mr. Miller."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

As always, dividers by @saradika-graphics

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poppy-metal · 5 months ago

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when you come to in vamp artashis guest room, you wonder if maybe you had dreamed it. your neck throbbed, but there was no wound. you felt weak, but that was almost definitely the hangover. yes. a dream. you were probably too drunk to do anything, and they probably put you up in their bedroom out of pity. bless their hearts, you almost felt guilty. and regretful. how you would’ve like to fuck them.

but maybe it isn’t a dream, because the blonde one, art his name was, comes in holding a tray, with an expression on his face that borders on manic excitement. he looks thrilled with the novelty of the task he’s performing, which under normal circumstances would be extremely sweet, with no hidden layer of irony. but he lifted the tray up like you wouldn’t know what it was, and in a voice too loud for your pounding head said “eggs and bacon!”

he was so gorgeous. he was shirtless, only in boxers like he didn’t feel the morning chill. his hair was tossed to and fro but always looked angelic and framed his face, the picture of youth and vitality. you forgave him his loud entrance immediately.

“thank you so much,” you croak as he lays the tray on your lap gently,”i’m so, so sorry about last night, i didn’t realise how drunk i was. i hope i didn’t disappoint you and your wife.”

“disappoint us?”

he stood over you, waiting for you to eat his overcooked breakfast and love it, ringing his hands together like a dad finished with a woodworking project. you pop a piece of egg in your mouth. extremely mediocre.

“what do you remember of last night?”

“just coming back here, kissing. and i had a weird dream, so i don’t know how much of that is real. why?”

“it wasn’t a dream. do you like your breakfast?”

you pause with some fluffy egg on the end of shiny fork tensils. the way art is staring at you is sort of uncanny valley - you can't place what it is. just some displacement in the air around him. he stands too still, too perfectly still. you wouldn't notice how abnormal this is - except now you do. usually people are always moving in some way. shifting. even a slight sway when standing in one place. he's like marble. a statue of some greek god or angel.

you lower the fork. he watches the motion. with your other hand, you delicately touch the side of your neck again, feeling. his eyes watch that movement too. his pupils dilate. blue almost disappearing entirely within black. he licks his bottom lip.

“did you bite me last night?”

you don't feel any marks. but your dream….. maybe they were somewhere else. you put the plate to the side and moved the covers aside, blinking down at your body. last night was fuzzy, yes, but you were definitely still in your dress last you remembered. you weren't in a dress now. you were in a soft cotton tshirt. white and large on your bodym, coming down to your knees. a mans shirt.

“that's my shirt. and yes, I did. are you feeling alright, by the way?”

you look up at him. the clouds in your brain begin to part, revealing something that is far more ominous and dangerous than the sun. even if you still can't place it.

“did we have sex?” the biting isn't so abnormal. loads of past boyfriends had given you hickeys before. but really, you'd have liked to remember losing your virginity. you tried to focus between your legs- squeezed your inner muscles to test for any aches and pains, but felt none. mostly just your neck ached. he must have really bitten you, then. but then where was the mark?

“we didn't.” art tells you. he looks a little forlorn about this. “you passed out in the middle of - in the middle of uh.” some pink comes to his cheeks. it's a beautiful color on his smooth pale skin. “in the middle of things.” he settles on. he sits down gently, the bed dipping under his weight. “I wanted to, though.”

you feel your own cheeks heat. your fingers play with the frayed edges of your - his - shirt, nervously. the room is so quiet. no other sounds like a clock ticking or a fan whirring. it's just you and this practical stranger. alone in a unfamiliar room.

“im - I'm kind of glad we didn't.” you admit. “I dont know if I told you - the night is a blur - if I didn't, I'm sorry - I should have. it's just that I'm actually a virgin? not that it's a big deal or anything to me - I just. well, it's something I'd like to remember, at least.”

arts places his hand close to your knee on the bed. he has an athletes hand. somehow slender and beautiful, but powerful too. you think you remember something about him saying he was a tennis player. one of his fingers brushes against the bare skin of your thigh and a muscle twitches.

“it is a big deal.” is all he says, and the way he looks at you silences any protests you might have had. like he sees inside you and already knows that you'd gone to that club with the very notion of losing your virginity already in mind - that you'd wanted rid of it like a bad disease - flushed from your system. but that you'd secretly always wanted the act to mean something. to be romantic and symbolic in some way, even as you deliberately set out to make it mean nothing.

art is so pretty. it's a combination of feminine beauty and masculinity that doesn't clash - but rather mixes like primary and secondary colors do together to make something wholly complementary.

he has delicate but sharp bone structure. a strong nose and jawline. soft silky hair. long lashes. his body is lithe but solid. built and strong but not bulky. not a smattering of hair anywhere in sight. just miles and miles of smooth milky skin.

“yeah…” you say, a little dazed. are the clouds rolling back in?

art tugs his pink bottom lip between his teeth - blindingly white - flicks his gaze to your discarded plate. you think you should be asking more questions, but you don't know what those questions should be.

“you should finish eating.” he nudges your plate back into your lap. “I want you to be healthy. we want to talk to you later, when you're feeling better.”

you pick up your fork again, wondering at how the sight of his obvious pleasure at the listened to action makes warmth blossom in your chest.

“we?” you remember tashi. flush. “your wife.”

god, had you really planned to lose your virginity to two people at once? you couldn't risk drinking like that again.

art nods. stands again and smiles down at you. he has dimples, you realize with some levity. not that you necessarily felt threatened, but the sight of something so boyishly charming melts you a little.

“we like you.” he states. “well, I like you. and tashi likes what makes me happy.”

you pause in chewing a piece of bacon. a little charred but still good. you imagine him cooking and fretting over when to turn the slices - blink and blink again. “um. t- thank you.”

you should probably mention something about going home. you think you came here in a limo? did they own a limo? they were obviously rich. you wondered if it would be rude to ask if they buy you an Uber.

suddenly, art leans down - his scent fills your nose - something crisp and clean and minty - and his cool lips press against the center of your forehead. your fork haults against the plate, scraping in suprise. you suck in a breath, your heart beating suddenly as fast as a hummingbirds wings. he'd gotten to you so quick, you'd hardly felt a disturbance in the air - a shift in the atmosphere - something about the way he holds his lips to your skin is almost tender. loving. another beat starts, between your legs this time.

art speaks - and his breath puffs the baby hairs wisping around your head back a little - his voice as soft and smooth as melted butter -

“you look fucking delicious in my shirt, by the way.”

#ask #frens <3 #vampire!au #artashi x reader #art donaldson x reader #VIRGIN X VAMPIRE DYNAMIC YEAAAASSSSSSSS

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actuallysaiyan · 6 months ago

Text

My Cinnamon Girl

warnings: smoking, general fluff pairings: Older!Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Fem!Barista!Reader summary: Kento is your regular customer and one night when he really needs you, he ends up finding you outside smoking and you offer him some pastries. a/n: For the amazing JJK writing Event, Foodies and Goodies created by the wonderful @tsukimefuku! This fic is very inspired by Smoking Behind The Supermarket With You and I was very much encouraged lovingly by April(@kentocalls) to write this and I'm so pleased with it!

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly

@namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa

@darkstarlight82 @melisuh123. @galactict3a

@erebus-et-eigengrau. @aomi04 @isabelzoldyck

@strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @jay220a

@fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget @senseifupa

@aleigant @gigiculona. @rahuratna

He always took this route to get home. It was his favorite way to get home. Not only that, but it made it so he’d always pass by his favorite bakery. The coffee was exquisite and the pastries brought him straight to heaven.

Kento Nanami didn’t regret never going back to the sorcerer’s life, but sometimes he wondered if working in stocks was really the best for him. Too late to change his mind, as his 45th birthday was nearing and he knew that he didn’t have too long to work now before he could fully retire.

The little bakery was his relief. Kento looks forward to it every single day. Even on his days off, he goes to that bakery. He loves to eat breakfast there. He enjoys sipping on coffee while looking over paperwork. And the thing he enjoys the most there…it’s you.

You with your sweet smile, your soft voice and calm demeanor. You’re the person who always makes his days brighter. Even when his boss is on his ass, he knows that seeing you will be the bandaid his soul needs. So every day, he walks to and fro work and passes by the bakery where you work.

One day, he makes his way there after a long day at work. He’s completely exhausted. The only thing that makes him feel good in this world today will be to see you. He wants to see your smile before he heads home for the evening. After this long day, it’s the only thing he can truly say would heal him.

And yet, when he enters the bakery, he notices you’re not at the counter. He sighs and loosens his tie, approaching the counter to greet the older woman who works there.

“Good evening, okyaku-sama!” she calls to him, beckoning him over.

“Good evening, can I get a loaf of sourdough bread and a cup of green tea?”

She nods and gets started on his order. He already knows how much it’s going to cost him, so he pulls out a few bills and some coins and places them on the counter. He’s disappointed that you aren’t here tonight, but he thinks he’ll be able to survive.

“Here you are! Do you have your points card?” the elderly barista asks him.

“Oh, yes, here you are.”

Kento hands her the points card, and she’s not privy to the sad look on his face. He comes every day, sometimes multiple times a day and it’s mostly to see the young barista who is her favorite coworker.

“She just got off,” the elderly barista explains. “If you hurry out now, she’s probably outside having a smoke.”

Kento’s cheeks and tops of his ears burn, “W-what…?”

The elderly woman laughs, “The young woman you come here to chat up. My coworker? She’s probably outside smoking in the smoking section.”

Kento’s heart flutters and skips a beat. He takes the cup of tea and loaf of bread from her, thanking her for her service. The elderly barista laughs softly, ushering him outside.

He makes his way out, finding you exactly where your coworker said you’d be. You’re sitting on an overturned crate, a tired look on your features. Something about this warms Kento’s heart. He knows he’s not the only tired person in this world. You work hard; he has seen it first hand.

An unlit cigarette balances on your bottom lip. You seem to be spaced out, not really paying attention to anything. Kento notices a few pastry boxes near where you sit. He comes closer to you, smiling down at you. A lit lighter appears in your view.

“Could I light that for you?” he asks.

You gasp softly, the cigarette nearly falling out of your mouth. Kento gently cups your chin to steady you and he lights the cigarette.

“Thank you,” you whisper before exhaling.

Kento procures his own cigarette and lights it up. “My pleasure.”

Neither of you know what to say for a bit. He takes a sip of his green tea, sitting next to you and he smiles. It’s a comfortable silence.

“You’re my regular, aren’t you?” you ask him, smiling at the older man.

He blushes once more, “Am I this obvious? Even your coworker knew who I was…and she made sure to tell me where you were.”

You mutter a curse under your breath. Damn that older woman…putting her nose in your love life.

You chuckle softly, taking a deep drag from your cigarette. “I mean,” you blow out the smoke. “You come here multiple times a day.”

Kento’s eyes widen, “I like the coffee! And the pastries!”

You can’t help but laugh even more now. He was so cute. Quite a bit older than you, but you always liked that in a relationship. You move a bit closer to him, opening up one of the pastry boxes.

“Since you love the pastries so much, why not try this? IT’s a new pastry I’m working on for the cafe.”

Kento’s hands shake as he reaches into the box and pulls out a flaky little pie looking thing from the box. It’s tiny and has a gooey looking center. He puts out his cigarette, bringing the small pastry to his lips. The first bite is exquisite. He unknowingly lets out a moan of joy at the flavor. Gooey cinnamon and butter and nutmeg and…

“That good huh?” you ask, flicking your cigarette.

Kento nods, mouth still full of pastry. “Amazing! Please tell me you’ll be selling these in store!”

You smile. “Well I might just because my favorite customer just complimented me.”

Kento swallows the last bite, his cheeks still red. He never knew just how nervous and shy you made him feel. He looks at you seriously, his mind whirling with a million thoughts. You put out your cigarette, leaning in to kiss his cheek softly.

“If you liked that, why don’t you come to my place sometime and I can bake for you?”

Kento’s at a loss for words, but he manages to say one thing. “S-sure!”

You take out your phone, thrusting it into his hands. “Put your number in my contacts.”

Kento’s hands feel so shaky as he puts his number into your phone. You can’t help but smile at him. Both of you have the biggest crushes on each other and it’s only now that you finally get to make your move.

“Great! So if you’re not busy now…” you suggest, a grin on your face. “Why don’t you walk me home? I can pay you with pastries.”

How could Kento say no to that?

#bacon.writes #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #kento nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #writing event #foodies and goodies

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maoistyuri · 3 months ago

Text

Hello! I am writing on behalf once more for @aya2mohammed, who I happily consider my friend, who has once again reached out to me to publicise their family's fundraiser.

This fundraiser is at 24.931 out of 50.000€, almost halfway to its goal.

When I first published this post it was only at 20.735€, which means they've raised over 4.000€ since August 7th! Good job everyone!

Unfortunately, it is still under halfway to its goal, which means it's still over 25.000 euros left!

Recently, after so much unbelievable hardship, their children have contracted scabies, due to the harsh and unclean living conditions, the lack of healthcare and due to unclean water.

Every donation truly makes a difference, even as little as 5 euros! Please do not hesitate to donate! Your help makes a lifesaving difference to the people you donate to!

The most recent update from the Gofundme, including a relevant picture, is below:

Update: Fighting for My Children I want to thank everyone who has supported us so far. Unfortunately, my children have recently contracted scabies due to the harsh living conditions. With the lack of clean water and proper healthcare, they suffer from severe itching and pain, leaving me feeling helpless. Scabies reflects the daily struggles we face. Life has become a constant fight for survival, but I refuse to give up. As a father, I will continue to fight for my children's health. With your support, I can secure the treatment they desperately need. Every donation makes a difference in our lives. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has stood by us in this difficult time.

#gaza #alhabil #aya2mohammed

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small-sinclair · 2 years ago

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Hello, I'm new to your blog but absolutely loved your Bo x Sleepy S/O headcanons. Was wondering how you think Bo would handle a very independent stubborn reader that doesn't know how to ask for help; getting far too ill to be going around the house. Maybe with a sprinkle of bashfulness? Hope this ask happens to be your cup of tea, I'm new to the blog and honestly haven't sent an ask to anyone in ages XD Thanks in advance, sending you best wishes ^u^

Welcome to my blog, new friend! This is just my cup of tea, too. I wrote this a while back when I was sick that has all three brothers! (pst, @fluffy-little-demon and @leewalkin, thought of y'all when I made this)

Enjoy!

Bo with a sick s/o

Bo is like a weed: He'll thrive under any condition.

You, on the other hand, have an HP of 3 plus 10 fall damage.

But you're one determine motherfucker.

You crowed out of bed, swaying side to side. You feel the world weighing you down and you just want to sleep... but you have work to do around the house.

Besides, you don't want to quit now. You're so close to proving to everyone you belong in Ambrose, so why is your body betraying you.

Then you fall down the stairs...

Bo nearly drops the coffee pt on his hand, but he caught himself and placed it back on the burn. He set his mug down on the kitchen counter as he leaves the kitchen. Sometimes, Vincent would miss a step if he go too little sleep. As much as he doesn't say it, he hates it when his twin over does it (thought they are almost done with their mother's dream).

"Vincent?" He asked coming to the steps. "Hey! Get your Vincent van Gogh waxed ass back to," he stops at the bottom of the steps and sees you with your face in the wooden floor, "...bed." He kneels down and slowly lifts you into his arms, resting your head in his shoulder. He's not in a rush or sure if he should be worried about you. "Darlin'? Y/n?" He asked, shaking you slightly. "Sweet heart?"

"I'm good, Bo," you murmur, pushing yourself weakly against him. You tried to get up, but you felt your knees buckle and you slouched against his arms. "I need to get work done."

"Honey, words are slurrin'," Bo raises a brow at you. "Bed. Sleep. Now."

You shake your head as you tried to move again. "I can handle it."

"Ya can't even stand."

"I don't need no man to tell me shit," you playfully smack his chest, but your hand felt too heavy. You leaned against his chest and hummed at his warmth. "Warm... you're so warm."

You felt the back of his hand, and he clicks his tongue. "Sweetheart, yer burnin' faster than heart burn on a Sunday." You felt his arms under your legs as he lifts you up. He carries you upstairs back to your room.

"No, no," you whined. "Don't..."

"Yes," he replies. He places you back in bed and tucks you in. Again, his hand went to your forehead. He holds a still face as he looks back at your personal bathroom you two share. "I reckon I'll hav' Les go t'town for fever meds an' oranges."

You giggle as you felt your brain melt fast. "You talk funny, Bo."

He doesn't smile or smirk like he normally does. He leans down and kisses your head. "Sleep, honeydew, 'n I'll be back."

*****************

By the time you wake up again, it's in the afternoon and you smell soup. Bo came up the steps with a bowl of soup and a glass of orange juice. It's hard fro you to keep your eyes open, but he caught you in time.

He placed the food and glass down and takes out a bottle of medicine from his pants pocket. "Keep yer eyes open, love," he says, his voice softer than normal. "Ya need to eat an' move around some."

He sits on the side of the bed and helps you sit up. Your bones ache and grind together, and you sigh in relief as soon as your back is against the bed frame. You felt his hand against your forehead and he shakes his head, sighing disappointingly. His hand moves and brushes your back.

"Can you feed yourself?" He asked, his voice teetering on annoyance.

"Yes" you lied, your voice close to a whisper. It's getting harder to keep your eyes open. You hate that you're stuck here. Hate that you're weak in front of him. Your hand grips the spoon but your fingers can't move it. You try again but it doesn't work.

Bo's calloused hand pushes your hand away gently and takes the bowl. He scouts closer... then a spoon comes up. "Open an' blow, darlin'," he warns at the end. "Hot." You do as your told and you allow him to feed you. "There ya go, y/n. Goin' so good," he praises lightly, his voice heavy in his southern drawl. "Doin' real good now. After 'is, o.j. an' medicine."

You blushed at his words and looked away. "You think I'm good?" You asked bashfully.

"T'best, darlin'," he reassured, flashing you a charming smile. "Doin' real good." He put the soup down and held the glass to your lips. "Slow sips." He tilts the glass as you do what you're told as you drunk slow and steady. You motioned your hand to him to show you're done and he sets the barely half glass down. "Almost done. Look at ya," his hand rubs your knee, "ya such a star."

"A star?"

"A star," he gives you a smile.

He gives you your medicine and lays you back down.

As he leaves, he stops at the door and looks back at you. His heart falls a bit when he sees you breathing slowly, too slow for his liking.

He leaves for what felt like minutes and he's right back in your room. He takes off his work clothing and keeps his black boxers and white tank-top on. Bo comes on the other side of the bed and pulls you close. You rest on his shoulder and he brushes your hair.

"Yer sick," he whispers. "Fever ain't breakin', sweatin' lik' a sinner in church, sleepy and in need of help." His voice echoes in his chest, making you feel like you hear him in a cave. "Closed the shop, finished t'kill, Vincent's got a new project... hav'ta be a hen over a sick little chick." Bo's hand racks through your hair as you started to feel sleep take you again. "Sleep, y/n. There'll be monsters to fight t'morrow."

"You're not a monster," you hummed. Lazily, you lifted your hand and caress his check. "You're not a monster."

He lifts a brow and looks at you. He doesn't stop rubbing your back. "What am I then?" He asked curiously.

You snuggle up against his side and flutter your eyes close. You feel as safe and snuggled against him, his warmth lulling you to sleep. "A helper," you babble sleepily. "Best... helper..."

As you sleep, he kept an eye on you as a smile crept over his lips. He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. "Sleep well, birdie," he whispers against your skin. "Sleep well. Dream of a better place than here."

Bo pulls you a little closer and kisses your forehead and ends up sleeping with you in his grasp.

#bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax fanfiction #house of wax (2005)#bo sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfic #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair fanfic #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair house of wax #slasher fanfic #slasher fic #slasher fanfiction #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #cliff answers

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everythingpeaches · 5 months ago

Text

In which it's Peter's birthday, and the Marauder's throw a party.

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. YOU LOOK LIKE A RODENT AND YOU SMELL LIKE ONE TOO!'

James and Sirius finish their piercing rendition of happy birthday with a dramatic flourish, striking a pose from where they are stood on top of the drinks table.

There is a raucous round of applause from their usual crowd of sycophants, and even Peter looks rather pleased despite the insult.

'What did you think,' asks Sirius, coming to sling an arm around Remus’ shoulder, 'We wrote it ourselves.'

James approaches alongside him, his party hat hanging off the side of his head.

'Don't give up your day job, Black,' says Mary, holding a venomous looking glass of liquor in a well manicured hand.

'Ah well, you see MacDonald, I am unfathomably rich and have no need for a day job.'

'Well you were,' says James, 'But then you got disinherited.'

'Oh yes, of course. Silly me. Thank goodness for good old Uncle Alphy, eh?'

'Where's Pete gone, we need to give him his present?' Asks Remus, buckling slightly under the heavy weight of a drunken Sirius.

'Gone,' the boy draped across his shoulders says, wiggling his fingers and waving out into the distance, 'gone and left us for cake and womanly kisses.'

'You sound jealous, Black,' says Mary.

'Of the cake maybe, but I have no need of womanly kisses.'

'Been getting enough elsewhere, have we?' Marlene teases, shooting a pointed look at Remus who has suddenly become very interested in the bottom of his bottle.

'Oh look, my drinks empty,' he says, attempting and failing to unlace himself from Sirius.

'No, you can't abandon us too!' complains the other boy, grabbing hold of Remus’ arm.

'I'm not abandoning you, I'm getting a refill.'

'That's what they all say, then they're off in some corner with a long-haired temptress. Look!' Sirius points at where Lily and James have snuck away, standing awfully close to each other by the fireplace and laughing.

'There, there,' Remus says, patting Sirius' hand where it's wrapped around his forearm, 'You're the only long-haired temptress I'm interested in.'

'Well in that case,' Sirius says, eyes darkening mischievously, 'Shall we sneak away and find our own dark corner?'

'Tempting, but maybe we shouldn't leave the party we're hosting one hour in.'

'You ruin my fun you know, Moony?'

'I thought I was your fun?'

'You can be both, you're a very complex person like that.'

'I'm going to assume that's a complement. Oh look, here comes Pete.'

The birthday boy was indeed making his way over to the group, a satisfied and slightly smug smile plastered across his face. He, too, is wearing a party hat and also a lot of red lipstick across his lips and cheeks.

'Bloody hell, Wormy, who's attacked you?' Sirius asks with a laugh.

'Dianna Jones, that's who I saw you huddled away with under the stairs isn't it?' Mary says.

'Oh she's in our Care of Magical Creatures lesson, she's really nice!' Marlene answers encouragingly.

Remus thinks nice is probably an overstatement, but not wanting to burst Peter's bubble he smiles and agrees.

'Nice one, Pete.'

'Thanks. We're going to Hogsmede together next weekend,' he says and then, apparently unable to stop himself, he adds, 'She asked me!'

They all make noises of approval and Pete puffs up his chest proudly. He is rosy cheeked from drink and grinning madly.

'Oh Pete, we've got your present!' Lily says, finally rejoining the group with a very satisfied looking James.

'What have you two be-' Remus stops Sirius with a hand over his mouth.

'I'll just grab it,' Marlene says, hurrying away.

Sirius licks Remus' hand with an extremely wet tongue.

'Eugh!' The werewolf wipes his hand down the length of Sirius' arm to dry it off. 'You're disgusting.'

'You love it.'

There's a second where Remus thinks Sirius is going to say 'you love me' and his heart jumps nervously because, yes he does, but he hasn't got round to telling Sirius that yet and he doesn't want it saying in front of his friends in the middle of a very busy Gryffindor common room. Sirius, too, seems to sense danger in his choice of words and his face flushes. They both look away from each other, the rest of the group seemingly unaware of their sudden awkwardness.

Marlene thankfully chooses that moment to reappear with Pete's elaborately wrapped birthday present. He tears off the paper like a child on Christmas morning and cries out in pleasure when he sees the brand new wizard chess set inside.

'Oh wow, thanks guys! Mine was so battered.'

'We know,' said Mary, 'This one has a self mending charm.'

'Ah it's great, thanks so much!'

The rest of the party goes on, and the crowd starts the thin as students stagger back to their dormitories. Eventually it is just their small group that's left, spilled out over cushions and around the fireplace.

James has got his arm around Lily, who's laughing at a story Mary and Marlene are telling. Pete is half asleep, mouth drooping open where he leans back against the armchair. Sirius is sat against Remus' side, fingers tracing patterns on the back of his hand as they talk.

It's in moments like this, Remus thinks, he is most happy. When the moon is a distant memory, a barely visible cresent hidden behind cloud cover. He struggles to remember the loneliness of his early childhood. How good life can be, he thinks, and hopes for many more nights like this one.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #remus x sirius #jily #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #peter pettigrew #marauders #marauders era #microfiction

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tododeku-or-bust · 28 days ago

Text

🍉

I hope you’re doing well. I have a small favor to ask that would truly mean the world to me and my kids. As a mother I don’t have many choices I’m working on a short post with a small poll, and your participation would be such a big help. It won’t take much of your time, but your support could make a real difference for us.

Just to clarify, I’m not asking for any financial support only a moment of your time to participate.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for considering this. Your kindness and support are something I deeply appreciate.

#submission

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humaudrey · 2 months ago

Note

Dear Friends,

I am Ahmed from Gaza. I never imagined my life would turn into this plea for help, but war has taken everything from us—my home, my brother, and many loved ones. Now, my wife and I are left struggling to protect our two children amidst the destruction.

We are doing everything we can, but without help, our chances are slim. Any support, no matter how small, could mean the difference between safety and despair for my family. Your generosity will give us a chance to survive and rebuild a future for our children.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this and for any contribution you can offer. Your kindness can make a world of difference in these dark times.

Here is the link to support: GoFundMe

https://gofund.me/991535b1

You can open it from the bio.

With gratitude,

Ahmed and Family

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #for future reference #masterpost

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date-an-anarchist-suggestions · 2 days ago

Note

My Dear Friend,

I hope you can spare a minute of your time. I feel embarrassed to make this request, but the current circumstances have left me with no other choice.

I am a pharmacy student living with my family in Gaza. We are enduring an extremely difficult situation due to the ongoing war. We are deprived of our basic human rights, including access to food, clean drinking water, and the ability to move safely. The conditions have reached a point where we have run out of money due to the skyrocketing prices brought on by the conflict. Despite my best efforts to find a way to support my family, I have been unsuccessful.

Recently, I created a donation link, but it has not reached enough people or garnered sufficient funds to coverhttps://gofund.me/0a0ac124 our essential needs. I am humbly asking if you could share my story on your platform to help spread the word. Even the smallest gesture could make a significant difference or help make my campaign a success.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for understanding my situation, and I apologize for any inconvenience this request may cause.

With heartfelt gratitude,

AHMAD

#free palestine #crowdfund #free gaza

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junglejim4322 · 3 months ago

Note

👋🌸 Hi, I hope this message finds you well.

My family is in immediate danger due to the ongoing violence in Gaza, and I’ve launched a GoFundMe campaign to save them. Could you please help by sharing the campaign post from my profile? Every share could be a lifeline. Our campaign is verified ⭐️ (248) by @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🙏 Link: https://gofund.me/e9f9ce20

With gratitude, Dr. Farhat's Family 🌹

Ofc, wish you the best my friend

$4,915 raised of $29,500 goal

#palestine #Gaza #asks

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eirist · 2 years ago

Text

As It Was

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (A bit suggestive but tolerable still)

Note: AU. I am currently in love with the song As It Was (Prep’s version) and had it on repeat. You know that certain instance when you’re listening to it and suddenly a random scene for your OTP will just playout from out of nowhere. That’s what happened here.

I know it’s late. But this is a Happy Valentine’s ZoNa piece and my supposed entry to the ZoNami jukebox event in here.

And yes, this is a companion fic to The Cat Burglar one-shot (#30 in the Little Bits and Pieces collection). Enjoy!

Summary: She couldn’t pinpoint when was that exact moment when something between them shifted. All she knows is that it’s not the same as it was.

Nami quietly watched the scene outside from the tinted window of the car as it sped past the crowded street. The weather was a bit cold tonight, yet she was surprised to see a lot of people still loitering about enough to cause a slight traffic.

She chewed at her bottom lip—a bad habit really, whenever she feels edgy—and folded her arms on her chest, creasing the front of her coat at the movement.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes Nami-senpai.” The driver, Bartolomeo, politely informed her. They were on their way to her apartment and he must’ve sense her impatience… or saw it from the car’s rear view mirror.

“It’s alright,” Nami smiled at him. Usopp had told her before that he was in-training to become a low-rank official hence the chauffeuring them around stint. “Don’t worry about it.” She wasn’t that much in a hurry to be honest. She got nowhere to be tonight of all nights.

Her gaze riveted back outside, silently observing the people hurrying to and fro while holding flower bouquets and gifts in heart-decorated wrappers with big red bows around them.

It was Valentine’s night. And here she was, braving the traffic so she could get home after sneaking out of the party at the Mugiwara estate to spend the rest of the night soaking in a nice, warm, bubble bath with lighted candles around her and glass of expensive red wine in one hand.

Normally, she loves attending those parties and spent time there mingling and rubbing elbows with the rich, flirting with handsome, gullible guests and steal a thing or two from them before the party ends… but tonight she was not in the mood.

Maybe because a lot of guests there tonight have dates and she unfortunately and accidentally ran across some pairs cozying it up in some of the vacant rooms like five times already.

The mansion has numerous rooms! Why the hell did she keep stumbling into one that was already occupied by dry humping people?

She decided to just call it a night. Honestly, she can’t take seeing one more pair in a state of undress. She doesn’t want to barge into another quickie session or she’ll start charging them for using the rooms in the first place.

Besides, what’s with all those horny people? She didn’t see any oysters were served for dinner earlier.

Unless their gluttonous boss was able to get his hands on them… or if someone intercepted it on their way out of the kitchen…

Wasn’t Sanji-kun in charge of the food tonight?

Nami rolled her eyes when it clicked into place.

Thank her lucky stars Bartolomeo was around, ready to drive anyone anywhere at a moment’s notice. When Luffy motioned for his top men to go upstairs for a private meeting, she decided to high-tail it out of there.

Speaking of that…

“Hey Bart,” she called out to the Mohawk hair-styled man. “Got any idea how long that meeting’s gonna be?”

“Uh…” Bartolomeo scratched his cheek, looking apologetic as he glanced at Nami from the rear view mirror. “Apologies, Nami-senpai. I’m not sure about that.”

“Oh. Alright.��

“But it looks like it’s gonna take longer than usual,” he continued on. “I heard Luffy-senpai’s brother arrived earlier.”

Nami settled back on the seat, thinking. “If that’s the case, then it’s gonna take some time.” She pondered more for a moment. “Hey can you swing by Baratie first? I want to get something to go.”

“No problem, Nami-senpai,” Bartolomeo nodded. “You want me to call first so they can get it ready?”

“I’ll do it,” Nami pulled her phone out of her purse and dialled the exclusive number for the restaurant Sanji-kun had given her.

If she’s going to spend tonight of all nights alone, she might as well splurge for herself right?

A haggard-sounding chef answered her call. She reached inside her purse for her lipstick while she was enumerating her requests. Her fingers snagged an unfamiliar object and she pulled it out to look at it.

Nami stared at it for a long time. When the call ended, she already made the decision on how to best enjoy herself tonight.

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

The scenery outside the window changed as the car made a smooth turn to the right and began an uphill climb. They had left Baratie about fifteen minutes ago and was now driving along a rather lonely road with thick trees bordering both of its sides.

There wasn’t any lamp post on the area and only the head lights of the car illuminated what was ahead.

But Nami wasn’t afraid. Not a bit. The road was private that was why no one was allowed to use it. A few minutes passed and a black, large gate loomed before them.

“Nami-senpai,” Bartolomeo called her name to get her attention. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Nami grinned at him. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re off the hook.”

“But…”

“Just trust on this me alright?”

Bartolomeo looked hesitant but Nami only motioned for him to continue ahead.

He nodded weakly, just as the gates opened for them. He drove the car inside and in a few more minutes, he was circling the driveway and pulling to a stop in front of a dark house.

He stepped out of the car in a flash to open the door for Nami and assist her in getting out.

“Thank you,” she winked at him. “And don’t worry I’ll handle it,” she assured him with a pat on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here Nami-senpai?” Bartolomeo asked again in an uncertain tone. He swallowed a lump in his throat. If something happens to her, Luffy-senpai and the others would make sure he wouldn’t die a peaceful death.

“Yup,” Nami nodded as she scanned the house in front of her while Bartolomeo waited nervously beside her with the paper bag from Baratie and the bouquet of flowers the wonderful head chef Zeff had given her.

She slipped out the keys she found in her purse earlier and she could swear Bartolomeo’s eyes widened as looked at her.

“Y-you got the keys to this house?”

She winked at him again and brought her forefinger to her lips, a sign to keep his mouth shut about it. Nami motioned for him to hand her the food and the flowers before heading towards the front door.

“Just try not to rat me out ok?” She reminded him before slipping the key inside the lock.

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

The temperature outside seemed to drop some more as the night wore on. The tall, thick trees surrounding the vicinity didn’t help with that at all… they only made it colder.

But Nami seemed oblivious to it as she turned the key. Either it was tolerable or she doesn’t mind because of the coat she was wearing. There was a clicking sound as the key unlocked the door and she pushed it open.

What idiot still uses only one lock for their front door when keypad locks are a thing now?

Not that any of those will stop her. She can pick a lock and override a keypad as easy as one, two, three.

She stepped inside the foyer, just as Bartolomeo pulled out of the driveway to head back to the mansion-slash-headquarters in the Mugiwara estate.

Nami flicked a switch to her right and the whole floor was immediately bathed in warm white lights.

“I’m home!” She announced in a sing-song voice to no one in particular. She snickered at that. She knows the house is empty… save for her. With one hand, she was able to shrug off her coat and left it on the couch.

Nami caught sight of her reflection in one of the mirrors lining the wall that was separating the living room and the dining/kitchen area. She had to admit, she looks dazzling tonight in her sparkling gown. Too bad no one will be able appreciate it.

Her high heels made click-clacking sounds against the marbled floor as she made her way to the other part of the house. She set the paper bag and the flowers down on the kitchen counter top and looked around.

It was really a gorgeous house and it was a shame it was not being appreciated enough.

She had seen enough of it to fall in love with it. With high ceilings and glass walls, it had a great view of the outside especially at night time where you can see the city lights.

And you can also see the Mugiwara estate from there. Which is no surprise at all because the area where she is now, belongs to them.

The house was smack in the middle of thick trees, giving it enough privacy. And it didn’t matter if all the lights were on because it can’t be seen from the outside. You won’t even know it is there.

It was a perfect hideaway place.

Nico Robin told her that it was Franky who designed and built it. That’s why everything inside and outside was set to perfection.

She unwrapped the bouquet Zeff has given her so she can replace the almost withering flowers in the vase on the middle of the dining table. She’s going to make the most of her stay here, so that means everything has to look good.

Nami discarded the flowers in the trash and proceeded to set the dining table with the exquisitely made, hand-crafted plates she was sure Sanji-kun was the one who was responsible for.

Come to think of it. This house has something from everyone from Luffy’s core group. She’s sure the flowers from earlier were Robin’s flower garden.

She moved purposely for the next few minutes: setting the table, selecting an expensive red wine from the wine collection, pouring some in her glass before proceeding to arrange scented candles in strategic locations and dimming the lights to give the place a more subdued ambience.

Everything was perfect.

Then she left the kitchen—one hand holding her wine glass while the other clutched the bottle—and she went upstairs. She casually strode towards the empty bedroom and headed straight to her main objective.

Because hands down, this place has the best bathroom, the best bathtub, along with the best view for a relaxing bubble bath. It would honestly put any expensive hotel to shame.

All thanks to Franky.

She raised her wine glass in salute to her comrade before downing it and proceeding to prepare a luxurious bubble bath for herself.

A few more minutes and a blissfully content Nami was submerged in the large tub, wine in hand, eyes closed while a soft music played from the bath’s hidden speakers as the calming scent of the candles she lighted wafted in the air.

It feels like she was being lulled to sleep. It was so soothing. She could honestly live like this for the rest of her life.

At times like these, she can’t help but think that working for the Mugiwara family was one of the best decisions she ever made.

How long had she been with them? Two years? Two years since that green-haired man walked into her bar and whisked her away in a world more dangerous than before.

She had honestly thought that was the end of the line for her. But surprisingly—and thankfully—it was her excellent skills at thieving and treasure hunting that saved her.

And when they found out that she’s also a genius cartographer. That sealed the deal.

When she was brought in the presence of the Mugiwara family’s head… to say she was shocked was an understatement. He wasn’t what she was expecting. Nor what she heard through the grapevine. Especially when Monkey D. Luffy made an offer to her to join the ranks of those working directly under him.

After all, it was a waste to not to put all of her skills and knowledge to good use.

She made a choice to join him.

And she loved every minute of it.

Though there was a price to pay… she had to let go of her bar, as joining him would definitely place her in a tight spot with the other families who usually frequents the place. It would definitely make her a target and put her in more danger.

It broke her heart to shut it down. The bar was something constant in her life. It was her safe place despite how crude and violent her customers were. But she understood that sacrifices need to be made if it will bring her closer to her dream. And if she played her cards right, she might reopen it again in the future.

“Why are you here?”

Nami’s eyes shot open at that voice. Deep and cold as ice. It send shivers up and down the spine and not in the most pleasant way. She had seen men tremble at the sound of it. Seen enemies almost shit their pants when they hear it.

But…

Nami pouted at the intrusion. She moved her head slightly towards the bathroom doorway and her eyes settled at the tall, green-haired man who seemed to appear out of nowhere. She inwardly cursed at how stealthy Roronoa Zoro can be. She didn’t even hear a car pulling up the driveway.

She just threw him a smirk, batted her eyelashes at him and purred, “Welcome home baby.”

Zoro just scoffed at her attempt to tease him. She grinned as she settled back in her bath and watched him marched inside, removing the cuff links from his shirt and dropping them haphazardly on the sink countertop.

Nami rolled her eyes at his carelessness. She’s pretty sure he’ll be losing them in the next few days. Just like all the cufflinks that came before them.

“Why are you back so soon?” She wondered out loud when he started to pace around the room, shedding articles of his clothing like a snake and leaving them on the tiled floor.

He had the gall to snort at her question. “It’s my house.”

Nami puffed her cheeks at that. “So? Shouldn’t you still be at the meeting?”

One steely eye narrowed at her as he began to pull at his tie. “Shouldn’t you be anywhere but here? This is called intruding you know.”

The orange-haired woman only chuckled at that. She shifted from her relaxed position, resting both of her arms at the tub edge so she can watch him idiotically try to choke himself with his tie.

“Hmmm… I wouldn’t call that intruding if I have your keys.” She declared in a cheeky tone.

Zoro stopped fumbling with his tie and glared at her. “Why do you have my keys?”

She sighed exasperatedly, leaning her head on one arm. “Because you are an idiot?”

“I’m not an idiot!” He immediately retorted and Nami threw her head back to laugh at his expense.

“Only idiots leave their keys anywhere for others to grab.” She threw a smirk his way and he frowned at her.

“I’m pretty sure you nicked that from me.”

“Oh,” Nami feigned surprise at his accusation. “Me? Steal something from Roronoa Zoro’s person? Hmmm… you flatter me.” She winked at him.

It is fun seeing this usually unrattled man get flustered whenever he’s up against her in a war of the words. Working for Luffy made her realize that Zoro wasn’t all that he seems.

He wasn’t all ruthless, uncaring and cold. That was reserve for their enemies. And also, for the newcomers who still have to gain his trust. Kami knows how long it took for her to acquire it. And it wasn’t that easy. How many times did her life had to be on the line and he had to save her ass before she was finally able to crack his supposedly impenetrable shell?

Too many to count.

But once she did, once he was able to look at her without that distrust in his eye... his company had been nothing but pleasant and rather enjoyable much to her surprise.

Especially when she realize how easy it was to take him down a peg or two.

“Stop fumbling with that, you’ll end up choking yourself to death,” she lost her patience when he still—for the life of her—cannot figure out how untie his tie. “Come here and let me!”

Zoro just glared at her. Again. He’s really unamused at how she’s getting too comfortable with bossing him around.

Nami, likewise, glared back. Oh he doesn’t scare her anymore like when she first met him. He had used up all that privilege in one go.

“Do not make me stand from here and pull you by that tie!”

Grudgingly he obeyed her, moving closer and leaning down so she can help him.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Nami narrowed her eyes at him as she worked on the knot around his neck. The silver tie looked so sleek on him. Too bad it can also be the cause of his death.

“How can you have difficulties with something as simple as this when you can maim anyone without even looking their way!” She complained when she was done. He muttered something under his breath. She wasn’t sure if it was gratitude or an expletive.

He pulled the tie away from his neck and grumpily threw it on the sink.

Nami eyed the innocent article of clothing that was now officially the bane of Zoro’s existence.

That cool persona of his was just really a front. Away from the frontlines, he was a downright bumbling… idiot.

“Need any help taking off your other garments?” Nami innocently offered. Now she wasn’t really sure if he can unbutton his shirt without turning it into a sort of battle royale.

His face colored and he spat out a really loud ‘no’.

Nami sniggered. “Come on Zoro. We are way past modesty here. See? You’re already undressing yourself right here while I’m taking a bath baby.”

“Stop calling me that!”

She burst out laughing at his outburst.

“You witch!”

“Yeah I know. Can it Zoro.” Her shoulders were still shaking as she tried to dwindle down her laughter. Boy, he was really making her night.

“Why are you still here?” Zoro was practically snarling his question at her. He’s probably had enough embarrassment for the night, care of her.

“Be nice Zoro,” she hummed as she settled back again on tub, lifting a feet up and playing with the bubble foam. She glanced at him and he was now leaning back at the sink, glowering at her. “And here I stopped by Baratie on my way here to get you a steak.”

“A steak?”

“Uh… steaks?” She corrected when he sounded dissatisfied.

He folded his arms over his chest and asked crankily. “Why?”

“Nothing much. I figured I needed to bribe you so I can use your bathtub.”

“You’re already in it.” Zoro pointed out.

“True,” Nami agreed. “Thought the meeting’s gonna take long enough for me to slipped out of here without you knowing and just leave you something as a thank you.”

“Didn’t take that long,” Zoro grunted and he reached beside him to pull open the smartly hidden cabinet which stored liquor bottles. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink from a bottle he just randomly grabbed. “Besides, Bartolomeo ratted you out.”

“Tch! I knew he would,” Nami said, playing with the bubbly foam in front of her. “He’s more scared of you than me.”

“Hnnn…”

“Don’t be too hard on him. It’s not his fault you lost your keys.”

Zoro was halfway into bringing his glass to his mouth to drink. “I’m not. And I told him I know you filched it.”

Nami smiled haughtily at him. “Maybe you should stop leaving it carelessly anywhere?”

“Tch.”

“Can I have my me time now Zoro?” She shot him her signature pleading look that never fails to make any man a putty in her hands… well except Zoro. “I promise I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I’m done.”

Zoro scrutinized her from the rim of the glass he’s drinking. Then he sighed.

“Fine. Do whatever you want.”

She blew him a kiss. “Thank you! Feel free to enjoy the steaks I brought. They are inside the paper bag. I already set the table for you in case you want to eat like you’re out on a date tonight.”

“It’s not a date if you’re alone.” Zoro grunted.

“Oh?” Nami intoned as a Cheshire cat grin lit her face. "Want me to call for someone to accompany you?” She offered in sickeningly, sweet tone.

Zoro pinned her with an icy glare.

“Or do you want me to accompany you?”

Zoro was silent for a moment, observing her. Then he set his glass down on the sink countertop and folded his arms over his chest.

“And what will that cost me?"

Nami leaned against the tub again so she can look at him straight in the eye, resting her arms against the tub’s edge. This time her grin is more mischievous than ever. And so is the look in her brown eyes.

"Diamonds from Jozu Island.” She answered without missing a beat.

The green-haired man stared down at her with a serious expression on his face. He looked like he was contemplating. Then he pushed off the sink and moved to approach her.

Nami was absolutely beaming as she gazed up at him.

It was just a joke. She just wanted to see him lose it at her inane request. It just feels sooo good to tease him. She wasn't even sure anyone can when she first met him because he was so... expressionless.

"Consider it done."

She stared at him incredulously. Her jaw dropped open from astonishment at his answer.

"Eeeh?!"

"You want it. You'll get it."

That was all he said before he leaned down and captured her lips with his.

Stunned she maybe at what he said, she was still able to return his kiss eagerly. To be honest, she had been craving for it, for him, all night.

She was searching for him back at the party all night with the intention of pulling him in one of the deserted rooms. But certain responsibilities had prevented her from doing so. She then decided to just head back to her apartment and call it a night.

When she realized she had his house keys… she changed her plans. It was a long shot since Luffy’s meetings are notoriously long. She had little hope that Zoro will come home tonight.

But thank her lucky stars…

She couldn’t pinpoint when was that exact moment when something between them shifted.

All she knows is that it’s not the same as it was.

He only need to ask her and she would gladly join him for a late night dinner downstairs, even without those diamonds. She didn’t fix it just for one after all.

His fingers tangled along her wet hair and she vaguely felt him almost lifting her out of tub with the way he pulled her closer to him as he kissed her deeper. She fervently opened her mouth for him, so she can taste the alcohol he just had—still on his tongue—and him again and again.

When he pulled away, Nami can see familiar heat behind his grey eye as he looked at her intently. She was still pressed against him. The front of his black shirt was now wet.

“Been wanting to do that all night.” He drawled before planting a soft peck on her lips. “Join me downstairs?”

Nami grinned. “Hmm… why don’t you join me here first?” She suggested, licking her lips as she traced his with her thumb. “You can either you take your clothes off or I will step out of this tub and make a mess on the bathroom floor.”

Zoro answered her with a smirk as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

She moved away from him so she can watch him undress and admire every inch of his insanely toned body.

When he joined her in the tub, she was immediately in his arms.

“I still want those diamonds Zoro,” she whispered to remind him.

Zoro stared at her amusedly before giving her that half-smile she immediately fell in love with the very first time she saw it.

“I know.”

Her laugh was cut off by his lips pressing into hers again.

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