#i will buy them the moment they are for sale
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those note changes in backslide, OH MY GOD???
#ok look i have something to say#so i didn't buy clancy tour tickets when they first went on sale and of course that was my biggest regret but#the moment i realized i just HAVE TO go there was when i saw the video of tyler singing backslide live#it was from those small venue shows before clancy came out#and he stopped the music cause he wanted to talk about the “innit” line but people didn't stop singing#so he started singing the chorus with them#and his vocals man#his vocals#and like. i died#and that was the moment i realized i just HAVE TO BUY THOSE DAMN TICKETS#i now found a video from clancy tour and-#i think it was from yesterday's show?#i just died?#it's so emotional???#backslide is so fucking important to me i am sitting here and crying rn nobody fucking touch me#i say whatever and whatever that i want*
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-->ANYWAY – while poor Victor and Alice were very much not getting any of the free food and drink they had been promised by the holiday, Smiler had gotten their stall set up right on the main drag in front of the archway into the park, stocked it up with the apple pie, the pumpkin spice waffles, the blueberry bagels, the cheesy bread, and the pumpkin spice milk, and started hawking their wares! As per usual, it took a little bit for the customers to appear (and I guess on a day where the local restaurants are all offering free food and drinks, it WOULD be harder to find people willing to PAY for snacks), but after a little while, two lovely ladies named Janae and Judy rocked up, along with a guy named Lucha. Smiler greeted and insta-friended them, as is their way, and started handing out sales pitches –
And Janae was quickly convinced and gave Smiler their first sale of the day, grabbing a bottle of pumpkin spice milk to down! And once she got the ball rolling, all the other Sims in the area proved reasonably eager to buy – Savannah Price showed up soon after for some bagels, while Mei Prescott and a dude named Tai Lum both got a slice of apple pie. :) Janae then came back for some more milk, while a lady named Ava tried the cheesy bread and a dude named Anjelo gave the waffles a whirl. Molly Prescott appeared on the scene to try the bagels (maybe she saw her mom over there earlier?), while Janae returned AGAIN to sample the pie and some guy whose name I didn’t get got some waffles. All throughout, Smiler just kept handing out the food, slinging sales pitches, and making friends, and by the time the sale wrapped up around 6:30 PM, they had sold all four bottles of pumpkin spice milk (THREE of them to Janae, who I guess either was really thirsty or REALLY loves pumpkin spice drinks), two plates of bagels, three servings of pie, one plate of cheesy bread, and two servings of waffles, for a total profit of $319! :D Nice – they were MADE to sell stuff at the food stand, I swear.
-->But what was happening with the others while Smiler got their salesperson on? Well, Victor and Alice ended up having a nice meal together in the end, despite their previous troubles, with Victor getting flirty with Alice over their respective pasta dishes, and Alice happily reciprocating. :D They ended their lunch together on a kiss and a story, then Victor flew back to the library to use the toilet while Alice hung out playing on her phone. I had her head back to the park to keep her in sight and maybe see if she could do any scavenging –
And then, to my surprise and delight, found that there was a metal stone and a crystal stone right nearby to where I’d sent her! I promptly had her go and collect those – the metal stone gave her some silver (and a couple of robot salvage parts, for – some reason), while the crystal stone gave her an emerald. :) She then proceeded to play Blicblock on her phone, which I let her do for a while, then – noticing that she was Energized from the new moon – sent her on a little jog to get in a bit of exercise. Because that’s important, everyone!
Marm, meanwhile, was sufficiently charged enough that I felt I could wake him up and get him to read some books while they were at the library, with Victor joining him once he was out of the bathroom. Marm thus submerged himself in the tale of “Orbital Pudding” while Victor read a book of his own choosing for a bit, then headed upstairs to play “Road Rage Alpha” on the library computer. XD I don’t think that’s particularly respectful of the other patrons, Victor!
#sims 4#the lazy save#victor van dort#alice liddell#smiler always#marm l iser#another excellent food sale from Van Liddelton Snacks :D#seriously I am very glad that I got Home Chef Hustle#using the food table to sell treats to Sims in various worlds is very fun for me#I love seeing Smiler hawking their wares as the crowds gather#the magical first moment when somebody decides to buy#and then everyone else going for whatever most interests them on the table#it just feels like what Smiler was meant to do :)#and of course it's always nice to see Victor and Alice being cute together#I'm glad they had a nice time even if they couldn't get their free food from the food stall#and Marm is -- there#be easier to include you in stuff if it didn't take you ages to charge Marm#dang Lazy trait#queued
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being someone who started xiv w 5.3 (basically! though i caught up with everything with 5.5) man all the changed in xiv since then (like the earliest dungeons being changed, the ending of 2.0 with the fights being made to be better) kinda make me sad because i am a sentimental person but also it really has improved the game even if i do miss the past, however uh. worse it may have been! also because my friends who get into ffxiv will never be able to experience what i have and as time goes on that will continue to happen, and then new players as well... so yeah. feeling this way esp with regard to cape westwind the hardest fight in game T___T
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა ffxiv ໒꒱ *·˚#the best time to start xiv is as soon as you can imo! for me uh i waited a month or a few to actually get the full game from being in free#trial bcs me and lune need to buy two copies (one each) and well if we got money from work stuff that'd be child labor back then so we had#to ask our parents ofc lmfao so to make it better for them we waited for a sale! lune cried when w the last day of the fest there was#finally a sale hehe. i still rmbr that moment tbh. what a lovely night esp after the concert <3#ANYWAYS THOUGH YEAH. i really want to go through ffxiv someday again. man. my favorite game without a doubt#it makes me really happy whenever i see people interested in ffxiv (esp if it is because of me and/or lune hehe) !!#xiv is something that genuinely means an otherworldly amount to me for many reasons and i owe a lot to it :((#+ i've made friends and many lovely experiences and the story is so good and the music and i can go on forever!#so. yeah. hehe#anyways this post... i feel what the older players feel i think#idk. if others feel the same way as me lol but yeah ive only played for 2 years and later this year will be my 3rd anniv#and it will be on my birthday <3 !!! ig another reason why xiv has really stuck with me. it almost feels like a birthday gift
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Convincing bartender Simon to make one of those overly decorated and sweet cocktails or even add it to the menu because it’s cute and you know it’d do well on the gram and attract the ladies. He’d huff and puff but do it anyway
Like one of these with cotton candy, glitter, and sprinkles etc!: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/825988387943179970/
OMG wait I soooo want to try that-
The video ends, and Simon stares at the picture of the drink with a furrowed brow.
"Looks like somethin' you'd see at a bridal shower." He comments, handing you back your phone.
"Doesn' it?" You say with a smile, shoving your phone into your back pocket. You lean your arms over the bar and poke his side. "Come oooonnnnnn, Simon - imagine how many sales you'd make on something like that! People would love it."
"Imagine the money I'd lose, havin' t' buy bags of candy floss..." he grumbles, hiding his smirk behind his mask when you groan dramatically.
"You could do it as a promotional thing...? Like- ladies' night... in October?"
He snorts. "'Ladies' Night in October', hmm? N' what are ladies celebratin'?"
"Ok, fine- forget Ladies' Night. What about something for Halloween?"
"Like wot?" He grunts, grabbing a glass from the stack and pouring out one of the taps.
"I dunno... something fun, but practical - Oh! You could- like a Moscow Mule, but just serve it in a different glass and use edible glitter!"
Simon quirks his brow as he slides the beer glass to a customer. "Edible glitter?" He asks, wiping his hands on his rag. "Didn't know there was such a thing."
You nod quickly, your eyes full of excitement. "Yeah! God, I could pick up a bunch from the baker's supply down a few blocks. You could call it 'Witches' Brew.'"
He turns it over for a moment - in his opinion, it's ridiculous. He runs a pub, not a college bar. He would have scoffed at the idea of someone else had brought it up - but, it's you bringing it up, and that's a completely different story. You have such a brilliant gleam in your eye that melts his heart. He can't say no to you, especially after making you cry last week. He's still carrying out his penance for that.
"You think it'd sell?"
"Oh, for sure! I can make an insta post about it to get some attention."
He clicks his tongue, turning to the POS and seemingly uninterested by it. "Fine - if you spend anythin' promotin' it, let Price know. He'll reimburse ya."
You let out a triumphant whoop and slide of the barstool. He lets out a huff as you trot back to your tables, a noticeable pep in your step. He chances through the window on the kitchen door to see if his food is ready - what he's met with is Johnny's face, staring through the warming counter as he stands at the stove, a smug grin resting on his lips.
Simon can practically hear the cook's thoughts. Whipped bastard.
You had left without saying goodbye that night. You waited by the counter, rocking eagerly on your toes as Simon grabbed your tips from the night before out of the safe. As soon as he handed them to you, you snatched them and ran out the door. He was a bit irked by that, standing there with a stubborn frown as you pranced out of the restaurant - maybe you're still not back to being cheeky and chipper yet after last week. He can live with that... for now.
However, not twenty minutes later, you come stumbling back in with a paper bag in hand and a smile on your face, panting like you'd just run a marathon. Simon's anxieties quell at the sight of you.
"Got it!" You say breathlessly, walking to the edge of the bar and dropping the bag onto it. Simon folds his arms over his chest as you reach in and pull out a small bottle of glitter. You hand It to him and he takes it, holding it up to the dim light above.
"You can eat this shit?" He asks, brows furrowed.
"Mhmm!" You chirp, settling into a barstool. "Now, bartender - I'll have a Moscow Mule."
He sets the glitter down and grabs a clear glass, working on gathering the ingredients. "Ya only call me that when you want something."
"I'm calling you what you are." You respond, watching as he skillfully mixes everything together, pouring vodka from the jigger between two fingers, tossing in lime juice and topping it off with ginger beer. As shameful as it is to admit, you're kinda attracted to the skill he presents.
"Should be callin' me boss." He says, topping the drink off with a straw.
You slide off your stool and chuckle. "Yeah, you'd be into something kinky like that."
Simon has to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the thought of you - nope. He won't even entertain the idea. He simply steps back a bit as you wedge yourself behind the bar (yes, he actually forces himself to give you enough room - he doesn't need you feeling hiw aroused he is).
You grab a bottle of the glitter and dash some into the drink. After swirling it with the straw, the liquid becomes iridescent with purple shimmer that billows about the glass. You look up at him with a satisfied smile.
"Witches' Brew." You announce, holding the drink out to him.
You look happy - an observation that makes Simon smile, even if he wasn't the one to cause your happiness. He lifts his mask, grabs one of the straws and plugs it, before bringing it to his mouth and sampling the drink.
"Tastes like a mule."
"But it looks like a potion, right?"
"'S this glitter goin' to be in my gut whenever I get autopsied?"
You laugh, grabbing the glass and leaving Simon behind the bar. "That would be a cute party trick." You call over your shoulder.
Simon watches you, arms folded over his chest and his eyes curious. You set the drink on the opposite end of the bar, pulling your phone from your pocket and pointing the camera to the glass. You grimace; your arm reaches over the bar to grab the rag lying over the faucet, and quickly wipe down the bartop. He huffs, grabbing his phone from the register and pulling up his group text with Soap and Price.
Ghost: got ourselves a marketing team.
He looks back up at you - you're hunched over, taking picture after picture of the drink. You twirl the straw in the liquid every few seconds, kicking up the glitter and making it reflect the low lighting of the bar.
Hus phone buzzes.
Price: ??
Ghost: she's making a drink for october and promoting it in social media
Soap: clever girl
Soap: what drink?
Ghost: moscow mule, but in a clear glass and with some edible glitter shit. it's pretty neat.
Soap: picture?
Price: Promoting? Will this cost me anything?
Simon chuckles. He pulls up the camera on his phone and aims it at you-
Except you're in a different position. You're perched so nicely on a barstool, holding your phone at arm's length and your drink in the other hand. You're smiling up at your camera, nose scrunched as you pose for a selfie. Your hair is down, your back is arched, and - did you tug your neckline down? You most certainly did. You're breasts weren't that pronounced before.
Without thinking, Simon takes a photo. The shutter clicks loudly: you look at him, as do the three patrons sitting at the bar.
Fuck. He panicks, clearing his throat and lowering his phone. "Jus' showin' the lads what you're up to." He says, but you can see the tension in his shoulders as he quickly sends the picture to the chat and puts his phone in his pocket.
You smirk - whether it was truly just for Price and Soap, or if it was for himself, you felt a little flattered that you'd caught him in the act. You hoped for the latter.
Simon exhales heavily and rests his palms on the counter. His face burns beneath his mask as he tries to calm his racing heart. Fuck- was that weird? Course it fuckin' was. Goddamn creep.
His phone buzzes again. He sighs and pulls it into his hand.
Price: Cute thing, isn't she?
Simon immediately frowns, any previous shame now replaced with a fire in his chest.
"Fuckin' wot?"
#bartender ghost#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader
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Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.
"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."
"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.
Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?
Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.
So for once, you could breathe easy..
Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.
He must get a kick out of watching you perish.
"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"
"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"
"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."
Silence.
"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."
"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"
"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."
"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.
But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.
"Is the document for sale?"
"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."
You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.
Sebastian's Document
Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?
For some reason, it made you frown a little.
"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.
"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"
"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"
For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"
"It's more of a courtesy to you."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"
".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"
"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."
With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-
"Hey."
You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.
"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."
Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."
"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."
Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.
What you did was certainly a nice gesture.
He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.
#ive always wondered if he read it himself and knows-#this isnt super fluffy but just reader showing him a bit of kindness and i think thats enough#clanask#anonymous#roblox x reader#roblox pressure x reader#pressure x reader#sebastian solace#sebastian solace x reader
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Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]
SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)
WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)
A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”
Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking.
“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!”
Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.”
“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.”
Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.
Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders.
Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”
It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.”
He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.
Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment.
“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people.
“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.
Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.
Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands.
Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance.
And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him.
He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing.
“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
“What about me?” Az asked.
“Any plans?”
Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”
Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”
Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”
His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that.
Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up.
Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved.
Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days.
It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met.
He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days.
And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it.
Azriel: how’s the bud?
But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him.
Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his.
You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints!
And then, another.
You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?
Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?
You: would that be ok?
Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?
You: life saver <3 see u then!
He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth.
//
His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from.
He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you.
“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue.
Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos.
Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink.
You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.
And Azriel noticed everything.
“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?”
Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.”
Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did.
He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats.
You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms.
“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”
Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed.
Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”
Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off.
He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again.
You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”
His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed.
“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further.
“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?”
Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”
He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it.
Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants.
Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony.
With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself.
He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate.
As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free.
The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself.
And all he could think about was you.
Your eyes, your lips, your voice.
He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat.
Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat.
His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like.
As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly.
But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more.
//
“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?”
Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly.
He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”
She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute.
“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand.
He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.”
“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand.
Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid.
Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted.
His phone chimed from his pocket.
In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client.
Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered.
You: Hey, are you free later?
Azriel: I'm free all night.
When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text.
Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?
You: see you then.
He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did.
He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left.
His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion.
And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.
And then another.
And another.
Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes.
“Sorry I’m a little late.”
Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you.
Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case.
“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence.
You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.
Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight.
Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?”
You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?
You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.”
You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out?
But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip.
“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you.
“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.”
You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”
A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him.
“Why not?”
You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real.
“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?”
Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.”
You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise.
“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?”
Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you.
Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin.
It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed.
Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night.
“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city.
You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment.
“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing.
Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”
You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?”
He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.”
You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug.
“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive.
“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.”
He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.
Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs.
A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further.
You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull.
The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint.
With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel.
You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat.
With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads.
“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint.
Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again.
“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.”
You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him.
Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening.
“I’ll have the same as you.”
He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms.
“You can keep that, too.”
You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by.
It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that.
“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”
And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers.
Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help.
“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”
Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?”
“Yeah.”
He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his.
“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”
That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you.
“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding.
You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away.
You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”
“Why would they do that?”
There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.”
You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong.
“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”
“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards.
Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.”
Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face.
Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick.
“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”
But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.
A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes.
And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his.
Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded.
Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth.
He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth.
It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs.
The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console.
Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp.
In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him.
But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in.
His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled.
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him.
“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly.
Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you.
And that made him sick to his stomach.
Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.”
You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his.
Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself.
He looked over at your seat again.
Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste.
Azriel was fucking done for.
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After I written a post regarding to my journey for bought milk and diapers to my child Ibrahim and the price was not reasonably more than 140$... I decided today go to kan younis market (city in South Gaza) one of the big market before the war in whole Gaza strip to buy some clothes for my child with a knowledge there are no new clothes and most of the clothes are from bales (secondhand). I have no problem if it is used.. The important thing is to find any clothes for my child because winter is starting to get tough... I went into all the stores that sell children's clothes, and there are 7 of them... I looked at most of the clothes inside them for sale in these stores. I rarely found exactly what I wanted, but I decided to buy... I took two pieces of these clothes and went to pay costs... Guess how much the saler asked for these two pieces.. The first piece asked for 140 shekels ($38), and the second piece cost 180 shekels ($49). Of course, I was shocked by these exorbitant prices, but the biggest shock was when I asked him why the second piece was much more expensive than the first piece... He told me because the second piece is almost new, not like the first, but for me they both look the same. I laughed and said to him, do you have another piece that is used a lot and is cheaper than this almost new one? He told me no, but it might be available after a week, but I don't know how much the prices will be... I was curious and asked the saler from where he gets these used clothes . He answered me that there are people who come and sell me these clothes because they don't have money to buy food . I asked him again, what if they have children? What will they do when they sell their children’s clothes? He told me it is enough for the child to have one or two pieces, and they sell the rest. After I heard that for a moment I keep silent and thinking of this world why we? why gaza? why Palestinian people? why why why?... of course no one can answer? Then I back to my matter and asked him how much would you sell me the two pieces that I want.. Is there a discount? He said to me, I will give you both for 300 shekels ($83). Note: the real price before the war for these 2 pieces 30 shekels (8$) now ×10
In case ..., I only have 200 shekels ($55) in my pocket. I did not know what to do, should I buy or not... In the end, after deep thinking, I decided to buy the second piece... I felt so happy when I returned to my tent because I brought something for my child..
Note: Average income in the Gaza Strip before the war around 1000 shekels (270$). Now during the war no income at all
However, I wished that I had enough money to buy the second piece because I spent more than two and a half hours until I found what suited my request. I expected the money I had would be enough to buy clothes and buy some vegetables and groceries, but this is what happened, knowing that the price of vegetables and groceries is not much less than the price of the clothes. I will write about that soon.
Wait me for the second trip to buy some food.
Thank you all, my friends.
If you want to donate and contribute any amount even (5€) I will be so appreciate and thankful 🙏
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Love you all.
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It’s Not A Big Deal
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.
Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems.
Word Count: 3.1K (I promise I didn't mean for it to happen)
Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing (only a few times), Heated Kiss, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex/Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning).
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person
Main Masterlist
A/N: Okay I know that I should be working on my other fics, but I had this idea after reading an INCREDIBLE fic by @justagirlinafandomworld called "Stranded" for @jacklesversebingo and I couldn't help myself.
Sam squeals the car into the parking lot of the motel so loud that Dean and you can hear the high pitched scream of rubber on asphalt from your room on the second level.
"If he ruins those tires he's going to pay for them." Dean grumbles under his breath from where he sits at the small wooden table under the window, wiping down his gun with a clean rag. The sunlight that came streaming through dramatized the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft sleepy strands of his hair that still stuck up from when he woke up an hour ago.
"I don't know what his hurry is." You don’t look up from the worn paperback perched in your lap, gently turning the page. "If he's that eager to get back here to tell us something he should have just called."
“Maybe there was a sample sale on hair gel.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you can sense him look up from the gun to try and catch your eye, but you don't raise your gaze from the text.
“That’s pretty brave coming from someone who owns 90% of the products in that bathroom.”
“What? I do not-“
“Really? If I walk in there right now there won’t be seven different half-used deodorant sticks?”
“They’re different smells." Dean says defensively. "And shut up. I don’t comment on how many books you bring with you. Don’t know why you need to shove a million in your bag and then just buy one while you’re here.”
“Because I might not feel like reading the ones I bring. I might want to try something new. And this book,” You wave the book in your hand for emphasis. “Is very good and I don’t have it back at the bunker, and it was only two bucks!"
“But the others ones might be good too. You don’t know.” Dean sighs, looking at you like you're insane. "You just let them sit and rot in your suitcase."
Today was the last day that you would be staying in Louis, Illinois. The current case that the three of you had been working on together had been solved, which meant that the townsfolk were no longer dealing with a zombie outbreak and you were at peace to settle down on your pull out bed with a good book, taking a few moments for yourself.
You desperately needed at least five, but you also wished that you were already back in your room at the bunker.
The bed there didn't have as many springs that stuck into your back at odd angles and didn't squeak whenever you moved an inch. Your inability to find a comfortable position meant that the mattress squeaked all night long and Dean had thrown his pillow at you to make it stop. He hadn’t been pleased when you returned it back to him. Then again, you had hit him in the face with it as hard as you could when you did.
And like hell you were going to give Dean Winchester the satisfaction of sleeping in bed with him. You’d had to do that one time on a hunt where there were no extra rooms and Dean refused to let you sleep on the floor or in his car. He said that you might make it spontaneously combust. So you'd shared the bed and learned that he was the biggest blanket hog you’d ever met, not to mention when you woke up he was spooning you and you couldn’t be certain, but you thought he had tried to cop a feel at least once.
If anything you’d maybe sleep in Sam’s bed, but the guy was so much bigger than you he took up most of the space, so you were stuck with the pull out couch.
You couldn't wait to be home. You liked going out on cases, but you liked that you had a home now, a space that was only yours, and someplace where you could shut yourself away from the world. And most importantly, away from Dean Winchester, who had been the bane of your existence since the night you met him for the first time.
Of course this wasn't too bad either. Taking a few moments of quiet for yourself while Dean cleaned his guns and sorted some of his tools in his duffle. The two of you were getting more comfortable around one another. When you’d first met there had been a lot of screaming and several "she's not going to be there is she?" and "what the hell is she doing here?" questions that Dean moaned to Sam over and over the more the three of you teamed up.
You weren't used to working with other people, well, now you were, but before it had just been you and the endless road. But as it began to happen more and more you tried to fit comfortably into the swing of things. Dean and you would occasionally bump heads, but it happened less now than it did before. After five years you'd hoped that the two of you could be more civilized, for Sam's sake at least.
Sam and you got along much better. You didn't understand what Dean's problem was with you, or why he hated you so much. He was always correcting you, insulting you, and snatching things away from you as if you hadn't been hunting your entire life. Occasionally it wasn't that bad, like right now, but it had been much worse a few years ago.
When you'd met Dean you'd hated him, thought he was a dick, but the more the two of you spent time together on cases the more you saw that he did those things to hide what he was feeling and the more you saw how big his heart was.
You believed that your relationship now with him had progressed to a sort of symbiotic relationship, but honestly it was more like passive aggressive roommates who fight over whose turn it is to clean the dishes.
Dean still tended to get high and mighty sometimes and annoyed you without end, but you stuck around and in Sam's words "bickered like an old couple."
Sam had gone to grab some snacks and fill the tank at the gas station down the street twenty minutes ago, leaving with a joyful "Don't kill each other."
So far there were no casualties, but apart of you itched to beam Dean in the back of the head with the paperback just for a little bit of excitement.
Sam bursts into the room out of breath. "Okay I-"
"Where's the fire Sammy?" Dean sighs looking up from his gun.
"I ran into someone when I was at the gas station." Sam says it all together, as if it's one sentence.
"And?" You move your hand in a come on gesture hoping that Sam will get to the point.
"Well he's- he's-"
The man that pushes into the room past Sam is not Dean, he looks like him, but that's not why he's so familiar. He's muscular with dark brown hair that hangs a little longer than Dean's, over the top of his ears, while a few strands fall forward on his forehead. He's allowed a dark beard to cover his cheeks, but his eyes are the same piercing green that they were the last time you saw him. And if that wasn't enough for you to recognize him, the dark green superhero suit would be a dead giveaway.
Oh shit.
"Ben?" You drop your book onto the thick carpeted floor in surprise.
Two months ago you had been unwillingly transported to another reality, a reality where superheroes were real, people had powers, and where you met a version of Dean that you actually got along with better than the Dean in your reality.
You hadn't told Sam or Dean what happened between Ben and you. You weren't about to admit out loud that you actually got along with another version of Dean or admit that you found the other version of Dean aka Ben, attractive. So attractive in fact that you had spent a good amount of the time in the other universe in bed with him before you came back to your reality.
Ben doesn't respond, instead he crosses the room in several powerful strides, and hauls you up off the pull out couch.
"What are you-"
One of his hands tangles in the back of your hair, pulling your mouth against his in a furious kiss that steals your breath away and silences whatever you were going to say next. A part of you registers that Dean and Sam are still in the room, but it's quickly swept away by how it feels to kiss Ben. You hadn't forgotten him, anything but that. Sometimes you actually kind of missed him, when you were lonely or when the Dean from your universe annoyed you too much. Because Ben annoyed you too, but at least at the end of it there was a way to relieve the tension. With Dean the only place you put all your frustration was into the hunt and there were only so many times you could bash a Djinn’s head in.
Ben's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him in, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck to thread into the long strands of his hair. The strands fall between your fingertips, feathering out from your grip. You moan softly into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheeks, and feel his hand begin to slip down your back to rest on the curve of your ass.
Well, he certainly hasn't changed.
"Fuck I missed you sweetheart." Ben murmurs against your mouth squeezing your butt to emphasize the point. "You and this sexy fucking body."
"Ben." You roll your eyes with a snort.
"What? You didn't miss me?" He raises an eyebrow, forcing his mouth into an attractive pout. "Because you certainly seemed happy to see me a second ago." His free hand gently traces your plump lower lip with the pad of your thumb.
"I did and I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"
"Thought so." Ben leans his head back down towards yours, ignoring your question as he tries to kiss you again, but before he can Dean interrupts.
"What the fuck is going on?" Dean shouts, standing from the table under the window, and points his gun at Ben's unprotected back. "Who the fuck are you?"
Ben half turns over his shoulder eyes flicking from the gun to Dean with a sigh. "Look the only thing that's gonna do is piss me off. And you don't want that kid."
Dean makes a face. "Who the hell are you calling kid?"
"Now why don't you two fuck off for a few hours, let me give her a proper hello." Ben turns his dark eyes back on you, cupping your chin in his large hand.
"Y/n? You want to tell us what's happening? Or who this guy is?" Sam asks, but you can't look away from Ben.
You really had missed him. Ben was even more attractive than you remembered. The day that you'd left his universe, Ben had asked you to stay, well, had asked you in his own way. He'd said that he wasn't done with you and if you had stayed he would have made it worth your while. But you had to come back. You weren’t sure how Dean and Sam would survive without you and also because the universe that Ben inhabited was more terrifying than yours, and that was saying something, given that you dealt with demons on a daily basis.
"Guys this is Ben." You clear your throat. "Ben this is Dean and Sam."
"Ben as in Soldier Boy? From the fucked up reality with the people with superpowers Ben?" Dean sputters. He lowered the gun slightly, but he's still looking from Ben to you like he's just walked in on his parents making out.
"Yes." You say it slowly, trying to find a way out, but there really isn't any way to hide this.
It's not that big a deal, is it?
Ben releases you and turns to look at Dean, eyes skating over his body. "So that's Dean?" He tilts his head to the side. "Kinda scrawny. The way you described him made me think he'd look a little more like a man and less like a fucking pussy."
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Dean takes a step towards Ben, holding his gun steady out from his chest. You noticed that Dean did try to puff it out more after Ben's insult.
"You heard me." Ben smirks, welcoming the challenge.
"Whoa!" You step between them. "Calm down ladies there's enough Prada to go around at this sample sale."
Ben's eyes narrow in confusion at your comment, but he doesn't back down from Dean.
"I'd say that you left a few details out of your trip!" Dean shouts looking from Ben to you in disgust. "Did you sleep with me?"
"What?" You look at him like he’s crazy.
What does he mean?
"You, and him." Dean gestures wildly with the gun. "Did you sleep with me?"
"What are you talking about? No I didn't sleep with you, I slept with him and it was only once!" You shout back.
Ben clears his throat.
"Fine. A few times.” You correct with a sigh.
“But- you- him-“ Dean’s head turns from Ben to you. “Him- you-.”
“Yeah. Me and her fucked.” Ben says it slowly like Dean is a child.
Honestly he was acting a little bit like a child.
Sam is holding back his laughter behind a hand while Dean’s eye begins to twitch aggressively.
This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. They aren’t the same person! Dean is Dean and Ben is Ben. Someone who shares the same face. And probably the same other things that I’m not going to think about right now because that seems crazy.
"How many times is a few?” Dean demands.
"Why does that matter?”
"HOW MANY?" He shouts so loud that you think the people in the next room over were probably having a wonderful time listening to this soap opera.
Because it kinda did sound like one right? The main character never gets along with someone and then gets transported to another reality through a colorful portal and immediately clicks with another version of him. And-
Maybe I need to rethink my life.
"Well..." Your face scrunched up trying to count exactly how many times that you and Ben had sex. It was difficult. Not that it was hard to remember, you knew that you weren’t going to forget it anytime soon, but just the amount of times the two of you were together was more than you could count on your fingers.
"Well what? You were there for five days!"
"I mean..." You shrug.
“Why?” Dean groans pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to scrub the images from his brain.
Honestly, if he’d told you that he had sex with another version of you, you probably would have had the same reaction, but you were not about to admit that to Dean Winchester of all people.
He’s not gonna win this argument. Especially not when he's waving his gun around like a psychopath.
“Because he's-“ You glance over at Ben who winks at you. “I don’t know. He’s just kinda-.”
“Everything you’re not.” Ben raises his eyebrow at Dean.
“Sammy you gonna weigh in on this?” You look at Sam expectantly hoping that he can jolt Dean out of the never ending loop he seemed to be stuck in.
“Nope. I’m staying out of it.” Sam holds his hands up in surrender.
“I cannot believe you slept with me!” Dean shouts again.
“Stop saying that! I didn’t sleep with you! I slept with him. Can we please move on-“ You groan.
"Same thing!"
"What? How is it the same thing?” You plant your hands on your hips glaring at Dean.
"He's me from another universe!" Dean is gesturing wildly with his gun now. “How would you feel if I slept with an alternate version of you?”
“It’s completely different!”
“How?”
“They aren’t us!”
“He sure as hell looks like me!" Dean snaps back. "What did you close your eyes the whole time or something?"
Your cheeks flare bright red with Dean's question. "No I didn't!"
“And I don’t look like you.” Ben grunts crossing his arms over his chest and giving Dean a once over again.
“He also doesn’t act like you.” You add.
It was true, Ben didn’t. And for some reason you got along with him more. You didn’t understand what Dean’s problem was, but for the better part of five years he’d been treating you like you hadn’t been hunting your whole life. Not to mention the first three years were spent with Dean barely saying two words to you without some kind of insult attached.
“That’s beside the point!”
“How is that beside the point?” You demand.
“I can’t believe you did this!”
"I didn't kill anyone Dean. I didn't torture any babies or kill any puppies. We are consenting adults! We had sex-"
“No no no!” Dean puts his fingers in his ears. “Lalalalala.” He sings to himself to avoid the image.
"And we're gonna have it again. So the two of you should clear out, unless you're in to that kind of thing Deanie.” Ben wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, but you don’t take your eyes off of Dean.
“Fuck I’m gonna need so much therapy after this” Dean groans putting the gun down on the table. Which was a good sign because now you weren’t worried that he would accidentally shoot Sam in the foot.
“Really? After everything you’ve gone through that’s what pushes you over the edge?” You ask him in shock.
“Yes. Are you happy? You’ve driven me to the point of insanity!” Dean snaps.
"You're acting like a child."
"I am not! I am having a completely normal reaction to finding out you slept with Wannabe Captain America!” Dean gestures to all of Ben who looks at Dean like he can’t tell if it’s an insult or not.
You take in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Why are you so upset that I slept with him Dean? I don’t understand how this is so earth shattering to you that two people had sex! You have sex with people all the time-“
“Not with you!”He snaps back, but then clears his throat when he realized what he just said.
“He is not YOU!” You shout rolling your eyes for the millionth time. At the rate he was going, you were sure they were going to roll out of your head.
“As important as this conversation is… can we maybe put a pin in it and go back to why he’s here?” Sam asks diplomatically.
“No-“ Dean says at the same time you say.
“Yes! Ben why are you here?”
“Don’t really know.” He shrugs taking a long hit from a joint that seemed to materialize out of thin air, while tightening his arm over your shoulders. “All I know was that I was fighting Homelander and someone hit me from behind. Then I ended up here.” Ben’s eyes trace your body. “But I’m not complaining, especially not because I got to see you again doll.” He winks.
“Homelander?” Dean repeats. “That is the stupidest hero name I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”
“He’s anything but a hero.” You fight the shudder from the last time you ran in to him. “Think about Superman if Superman was a narcissistic sadist with a massive inferiority complex, no weakness, and an obsession with perfect hair.”
Dean looks Ben up and down with a heavy sigh. “I’m disappointed that I couldn’t have at least been a bit more like Batman.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to meet knockoff Batman from his reality either.” You respond.
"I guess I'll start doing some research." Sam says slowly, looking from Ben to you while hiding a smile.
He’s enjoying this way too much.
"Good." Dean frowns at Ben, before he claps him hard on the shoulder. You saw Dean fight the wince when he felt how solid Ben was. "Let's get you home buddy." His eyes dart from Ben to you. "Before you do anything else that'll scar me for life."
Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are not required, but are always appreciated! 😊
Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester
#supernatural#soldier boy x you#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy/ben#jensen ackles#dean winchester#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester#supernatural fic#supernatural fandom
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The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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A Deal’s a Deal
Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.
Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.
Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"
Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.
"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."
He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."
Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.
"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.
But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.
"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."
There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.
"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."
Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"
Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."
"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.
"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."
Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.
Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.
He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.
"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.
Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."
Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."
He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.
Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"
"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.
They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.
Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"
"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."
Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."
Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.
"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."
The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.
Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.
They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.
Aberama removed his hand.
And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.
He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."
Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."
Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"
Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.
People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.
"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"
He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."
~
The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.
Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.
And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.
You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.
You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.
But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.
The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."
You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.
"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"
She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"
"No, thank you."
She left.
You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.
You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.
When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.
He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.
He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.
He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.
"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."
Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."
You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.
You looked away.
"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.
He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.
You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.
Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.
"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.
Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.
He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"
You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?
Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."
It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"
Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."
Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."
"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"
You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.
The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.
You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"
He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."
You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.
Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.
He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.
"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."
You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.
He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.
"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."
You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.
"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.
"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"
As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.
Your options were idiotic.
Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.
Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.
And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.
He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.
"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."
You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.
"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."
He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.
You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.
Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.
"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"
You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"
It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."
You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.
He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."
You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.
He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."
You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.
"What if I did want to see what would happen?"
He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."
You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."
He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.
"In your blood," he muttered to himself.
You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.
Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.
It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.
"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"
Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."
"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.
"Because you want to see what will happen."
Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.
You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"
He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."
Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."
"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"
You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.
Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."
You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.
"Fuck you," you spat.
He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."
With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.
"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."
"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"
You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."
His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.
"You do from me."
His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.
You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.
When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.
"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."
You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.
He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."
He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.
You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.
"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."
You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.
But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.
So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.
His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.
Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.
You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.
"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.
Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.
One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.
You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.
By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.
You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"
"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"
You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"
"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.
Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.
But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.
"I can't do it…sir," you replied.
He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"
He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.
"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.
"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.
"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."
You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."
"What was that?"
"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.
He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."
The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.
As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.
As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.
"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.
"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.
You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.
You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.
You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.
It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.
"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.
Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.
His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.
You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.
The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.
His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."
Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."
"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.
You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"
"If you taste good enough for two pennies."
You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.
He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.
Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.
One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.
"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."
But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.
You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.
"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.
He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.
"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.
He tilted his head.
You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."
He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."
He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.
He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.
Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.
The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.
The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.
His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.
"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"
You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.
"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.
You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."
"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.
He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.
"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."
You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.
He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."
He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.
Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."
As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.
Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.
"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.
Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."
"Why not?"
"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"
Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.
He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."
"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.
He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.
Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.
You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.
You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.
He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."
You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."
You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.
He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.
When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.
He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."
You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.
"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.
You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.
Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.
"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"
The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".
"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.
You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.
One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.
And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.
"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.
That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.
Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.
He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.
He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.
Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.
"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"
You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.
He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.
"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."
"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"
"Please, sir."
"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.
When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.
Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.
Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.
The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.
"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."
You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"
He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.
You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.
"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.
Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.
You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."
He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"
You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"
His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.
"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.
Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.
Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.
Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.
It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.
You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.
Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.
He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.
It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.
He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.
You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.
Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.
Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?
You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.
The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.
You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.
You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.
You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.
You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.
But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.
He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.
"Apologise."
You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.
He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"
You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."
"You are pathetic."
"And you called me a whore."
"You are a whore."
"You called me a pathetic whore."
He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.
"Apologise."
You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.
He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."
You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.
"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."
"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."
You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.
"I also–"
"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.
You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.
Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.
"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."
"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.
You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.
"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."
His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."
You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.
"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."
He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.
"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."
He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."
You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.
You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."
"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.
Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.
You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.
The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.
"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.
You smiled. "Yes, sir."
Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...
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SHORT! What does your Future Spouse want to tell you at this moment?
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3 -> 4
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Pile 1- Ten of Wands, and Ace of Wands.
Messages: "I know that we have a soul connection."
"I sabotaged our connection because it was too intense."
Hi pile 1's! I want to say I feel heavy self sabotage energy from your person, I intended to only pull two tarot cards and four Oracle cards but your person insisted on just two Oracle cards and no more , nothing else would pop out and if it did, it fell to the floor which meant I should put it back. My cat also interrupted my readings twice pouncing and trying to play with my cards lol. Your person feels kind of reluctant. I feel a bit of silence on their end, like maybe if you tried reading pac's recently on your future spouse but found nothing resonated as it usually does, it's so hard to explain but I feel like your person is purposely blocking their energy from you maybe. Take what resonates!! If it doesn't, let it fly 🕊️
So your person's been working hard and they want you to know that, maybe that's why their energy has been so dull lately? Like I feel like if you know your person's energy you definitely picked up on this, or maybe you're just now realizing but your person wants you to know it isn't on purpose, they have a hectic life right now, I feel like they've been running around crazy, staying at work extra hours, rushing to meet deadlines. This person is working hard, but they truly believe it's best for the right now, they know it'll pay off soon!
This person has gotten a burst of energy recently, they feel very motivated right now to something, they're busy pursuing their dreams finally, but I get the feeling this is something that just happened for them recently, they got an idea or something and now they're following through with it! They could be a very creative person, they could make art, or music, something in the creative field.
Red could be significant? This person has Fire in their charts, could be a Aries, Leo, or Sagittarius.
♡ Love you!!
-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
————— ୨୧ —————
Pile 2- Six of Wands, and Four of Cups.
Messages: "I want to hold you."
"I let people manipulate me into ghosting you."
"I want to kiss you."
"I'm scared you will reject me."
Hi my pile 2! I kept saying "your person" instead of future spouse so it kind of makes me feel like a few of you know of this person and have been involved before, but have gone through some sort of separation as of now.
So I feel like recently your future spouse has gone through a period of triumph. They've accomplished something very important to them, I almost feel like your person was overwhelmed and they could be a bit of a perfectionist, but they're so happy they feel like they can finally get a goods night sleep, have more time in their schedule now, whatever it might be I feel like this accomplishment is opening doors for them to many great things.
With the four of cups I'm getting your person has many opportunities being thrown at them right now, career wise but I also feel like in their love life as well. They've removed themselves before they can make a decision, though. They've been sitting on this discussion, but I feel like they've finally made one. I feel like it has something to do with you, crazy enough. Your Oracle cards give me the vibe that this person could be in your circle and they miss you like crazy, something happened between you two that pushed you apart though, it could've been another person but your future spouse has finally made up their mind, they know the kind of relationship they want to pursue with you now, they're giving some of those cups back? Like they don't care for every opportunity they see at the moment, they know what they want, career wise, romantic wise, I feel like they're very stable right now, so if it's not worth it they're not going to pursue it.
♡Love you!!
-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
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Pile 3- Five of Cups in Reverse, and The Wheel of Fortune.
Messages: “I let people manipulate me into ghosting you.”
“I’m afraid of commitment.”
“I regret what I did to you.”
“I’m on my way to you.”
“I need you.”
“I want to reach out to you but I don’t know how.”
Hi pile 3! So I feel like this person is dying to reach out to you crazy enough, you could've recently stopped seeing this person because of some drama between your social group maybe. I feel like this person could've been listening to their friends too much about the relationship instead of keeping it between the two of you to talk it out like they should've, something along the lines of that. This person wants you to know they've been thinking about you like crazy, they miss you.
Your future spouse wants you to know they're going through a moment of lots of heavy emotions, they regret something they've done in the past. They feel very torn over this and they feel like they can't heal from it until they approach it head on, so that's what they're doing. They're taking the appropriate steps to fix whatever weighing on their heart, they want peace and to find closure more than anything I hear, they see what they've done is wrong and they've learned so much from this lesson.
I feel like this person is hoping for the wheel of fortune to take it's course. I think this person is confused, doesn't know what to do so they're hoping that the universe will help out. I feel like this person is wishing for you, they're trying to manifest bumping into you randomly, they really want a moment of your time but they're just so unsure how.
♡ Love you!!
-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
————— ୨୧ —————
Pile 4- Seven of Cups, and Ace of Cups.
Messages: "I don't want to be toxic anymore."
"I want to hold you."
"I fantasize about you."
"I've been working on myself and I'm not the same as I was before."
Hi pile 4! Last but not least!!
I feel like this person has been working a lot on their shadow side, they've taken a deeper look at themselves and there's something about not liking what they've seen so they decided to do something about. I'm seeing this person like a new plant that's been planted, watered and fed and now it's growing, only your person did this all themselves lol.
So I feel like right now your person is being faced with a lot of things right now, maybe it's too many work assignments or they're trying to complete so many things at once, they're just very overcrowded and it's time for them to take a step back, it might not be good for them to overwhelm themselves with so much right now and I think your person is aware of this and that's why they're telling you obviously lol.
I feel with the Ace of Cups this person wants to offer you something real, they want a very good relationship with you but also a friendship. This person doesn't want me to go on about how much love they want to give to you but the Ace of Cups and their Oracle cards make me feel like it's a lot. I feel like as soon as things cool down in this person's life there's potential you two could meet now that this person is open and available for a relationship. I feel like your person isn't gonna beat around the bush, they're gonna come in super romantic and ready to be with you, your very first conversation could be planning your first date lol.
♡Love you!!
-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
————— ୨୧ —————
#pac love reading#pac tarot#pick a card#spirituality#tarot#tarot cards#tarot reading#tarot messages#tarotblr#tarot love reading#18+ tarot#18+ channeled messages#18+ pac#future spouse#tarot card reading
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[SMUT] TWICE Tzuyu x Male Reader - "First Time"
Here's a Tzuyu smut for 2024, which is the first and one of my two remaining smut fics left before I offically end my TWICE smut anthology series. I guess I can't give that much hint already for what's gonna be the final one, since I feel that you guys know already if I say that it would be my toughest challenge so far on both writing one-shot fanfic and a smut genre respectively. Just noticed that simply my main agenda right now after returning for my hiatus is to finish everything I've left behind that are this close from being complete, and it all starts here. Enjoy reading, you horndogs lol. WARNING: mature content, contains smut, +18 WORD COUNT: 5800+ TAGS: friends with benefits, vanilla sex, masturbation, oral sex, thigh fuck, blowjob, pussy licking, ass eating, fluff, doggystyle, anal, body worship
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You are heavily concentrated on the project that you are currently working on your desktop. It was already 11PM and you haven't had any dinner yet since you're the type of person who wants to finish a work when so invested in just one sitting.
Stretching your back on your swivel chair for a second after you switched to another template in your editing application, you heard your doorbell rang from outside. It surprised you because it's unlikely to have visitors at this rate of time.
Eyeing the heavy long metal beside your door, you carefully made your walk through the door and braced yourself to open it. Gripping the doorknob tight, you slowly turn it. Before you were about to swung it open, a familiar voice spoke from the outside, even surprising you more.
"Y-YN a-are you still there?"
She might have probably seen the lights from your windows still open, and essentially confirming if you are still awake inside or not anymore as she knows that you can sleep on either the lights are off or on, and she's aware also of what time is it already for her to do this.
Any threat or risks that you felt was completely swooped away when you heard her voice. Opening the door wide, there you saw your bestfriend Tzuyu standing in front of you.
As she raises her head, your eyes caught a glimpse of her own... and it doesn't share the same good condition. Her looks baggy, reddish, and... watery.
"Tzuyu, what brings you here?" You asked her curiously. "A-and... did you cried?"
Tzuyu nodded and in a swift moment, she slowly comes up to you and hugged you. You were dumbstrucked at her actions and what happened to her that made her be like this, but what matters first is that this poor lady in your arms definitely needs some comfort.
Raising your arm, you gently patted and rubbed her back as you let her pour all her tears on your shoulder. "Just let it out, Tzuyu. I don't know what is going on, but I'm here for you okay?"
That's the reason why Tzuyu primarily chose to come right at you whenever she needs help. You were just there all the time for her, and it's so rare for people to make an alloted time for their special someone to accompany them whenever they need to.
"Let's go inside, it's already late." You invited her in to the house. She quickly followed and remove her grasp at you as you paved the way for her to enter.
She stepped inside, and you closed the door. "Let's go there." You pointed at the couch next to your workplace.
Tzuyu silently followed your command before she finally spoke as she got to sit comfortably. "Thanks for this, YN." Her voice was shaky and rough.
"What happened, Tzuyu? Is something wrong going on?" You asked her as you poured some hot glass of milk and cookies for her. "I know you always come by for my help but I didn't expect you to be here in the middle of the night."
"I-it's my parents." She wiped her tears off and clasped her hands together, laying them down on her lap. "They're having another huge miscommunication again. It's been like that for almost a week already, and I can't stand it anymore seeing them like that. I had enough, that's why I decided to run away and come seek for a place to stay in... through you."
You understood her purpose of appearing here immediately. "And you're free to stay here whenever you want, I'll do everything for my friend." Tzuyu smiled at that, but almost sincere as she felt slightly different at that statement. "What was your parents arguing about, if I may ask?"
"It's about my dad going out frequently these days looking for some cash to borrow from. I think he's been into loaning for sometime, much less to our knowledge. He got fired from work when the company he was working in decided not to accept everyone who has a health condition due to safety regulations, and he got both detected that he has acute diabetes and is already middle aged." Tzuyu began to explain.
"My mom was a stylist at a salon but her salary wasn't enough now for just us to sustain because we need it now too for my dad's treatment. Then, just now, they got into an argument when my mom learns that my dad was secretly making loan from most people these days without her permission. You know how loan sharks can be dangerous, right? But my dad just defended that he just want to do something for us to still gain money and he doesn't want to stay at home doing nothing for her family."
Tzuyu started to tear up once again, from the mixed emotions she's having from both of her parent's side in their tough situation. You once again assisted her by giving her a clean cloth to wipe her tears away. "Now I get it. I do understand your father's point though. It's hard for a parent to just find their selves doing nothing when they know the hard time their family must've been going through.
It's their responsibility to take care and provide their daily needs, and not doing that so will ick them uncomfortably. Even if doing loans was also quite not a good idea, atleast you can see how your father loves you and your mom. Your mom was just angry at your fad because she doesn't want him to get in danger once he couldn't be able to pay all his dues in no time."
Tzuyu nodded at you, pinpointing all the comments you have to say regarding her concern, as it makes sense anyway. "I was starting to consider to help them by looking for some job to do to earn money for them, but I'm not that decided yet plus... I don't really feel it yet to engage at work while I'm still studying you know."
"Ahh, the fear that you might be unable to do both of them simulteanously, huh. You don't want to fail your grades, isn't it?"
"Yeah." You were right. You know Tzuyu to be actually a smart girl based from the earlier times when you first met her and your experience of her being your classmate. She has a lot of potential, but what you like about her is that she's careful on using those and avoid the possibility of wasting it on the wrong time.
"You know what, save it for tomorrow. You should go to rest, you look unsettled at the moment. It's already midnight." You mentioned as you looked once again in her droopy eyes and gloomy demeanor. "We can talk about this again for tomorrow."
"T-thank you again, YN." You nodded for her gratitude. "Stay here, okay? You want to watch TV?" She agreed. You opened it for her. "Entertain yourself there with your milk and cookies, I'll be just finish my task here."
She obliged, and she lets you do your thing there on the desktop. Minutes have passed, and with all those glances Tzuyu has been giving on your busy self, she began to get curious at what actually you are doing.
She stood from her seat and approaches you. Peeking at the monitor of your computer, you were shocked when she ducked next to your side, her pretty face almost inches away from you.
Your fingers nervously types from the keyboard and moves the mouse as you just let her observe what you are doing. "What's for the edit?"
"Commission." You simply answered. "Client requested to create a presentation for her upcoming thesis research. She has no other time left because she spent too much researching and revising her topic. Good thing she already has parts prepared for me to input for each slides."
Tzuyu hummed. She continues to watch you do your work while also admiring the fact that you are doing a sideline also apart from your current education. "So you are part-timing too?"
"Freelancing to be exact. I'm the one who looks for clients and offer service. Mostly editing, as you can see."
You started to sense the purpose pf her inquiry. "You know Tzuyu, my only advice about what you're planning is that you are doing right. Don't rush about it. If you don't feel the passion of it then don't head straight. It's hard to do something that you didn't even feel doing in the first place."
Tzuyu keeps that in mind. "Can I put up some suggestions?"
"Sure do. Would love to hear it from you."
She then began to point out some more details she can imagine in her head and you judged it with her by trying it on your work. It almost took half an hour before you finally finish it, saving you some more time of impring your butt too much on the chair for sitting too long and tiring yourself up.
Fortunately, Tzuyu helped you to wrap up early. "Oh wow, I didn't know you were so good at designing. Tzuyu, I swear I see some potential in you."
Tzuyu blushed and became embarassed. "Damn it, YN. Stop fluttering me." You chuckled and awwed at her cuteness. "But thank you."
"You should consider freelancing too, maybe you can attract a client that pays a lot but I hope you can endure the huge assignment."
"I'll take note of it." She nodded. You noticed that she already emptied her milk and cookies. "Cmon, let's get you to your room for tonight."
Tzuyu followed you and both ended up in a bedroom that is cozy and suitable enough for a single person to be used. "You can sleep on the bed, I'll be here on my extra cushion here."
She gasped and became shy at your gentleman act. "B-but, YN... this is y-your room. I'm fine-"
"No buts, no ifs. You are a woman who should be treated with respect. Now please, you can take mine for the night."
You were about to set up the cushion on the floor but Tzuyu tugged your arm. "Yes?"
"C-can you just stay with me on the bed?"
You became speechless at her request. The fact that you are about to sleep with Tzuyu close to you has effectively boosted the blood cursing through your body, creating goosebumps on your skin. You became red and flustered about it.
"W-what? Why?"
"I- I can't sleep without hugging something." Tzuyu pouted.
"I have an extra pillow though."
"I need something big that fits me to cuddle." Her voice became even more softer. You sweared that your heart is about to melt. "I have a life-sized bear that my mom bought for me since I was a kid on my home but I don't want to go back there for now. So... c-can you be my cuddle bear for now, if you might?"
You sighed heavily at how Tzuyu looks so pure and beautiful pleading at you with her puppy eyes and that mellow visuals. This is what's pulling you back: it's your freaking crush and the idea of sleeping with her on the same space, same bed is what's unraveling your lack of composure.
But you don't want your friend to be sad and disappointed because of your stubborness. "Alright, fine. You can hug me in your sleep."
"Yay! Thank you, YN!"
Both of you laid down on the bed you turned around with Tzuyu facing your back, as you can't endure much longer seeing her face too long, although it would be a delight to have such this wonderful sight before you sleep and to wake up in the morning.
She wraps her arms at your waist and hugged you tightly. You blushed when you felt her soft breasts squished on your upper back, sending your heart to race. She buries her face at the crook of your neck before sending a chilling whisper close to your ear.
"Goodnight, YN."
"G-goodnight, Tzu..." You breathily replied before you and her doze off to slumber.
The next morning, Tzuyu woke up first than you. Her eyes slowly opened, regaining her sight, and the first thing she saw was your side-profile. You were now laying flat on your back beside her.
She indulges the pleasant view of your peaceful state, smiling on her own happiness to have such an amazing friend and an irresistable crush like you. Although her frown began to shape from her lips when she remembered the reality that she is still uncertain if you do feel the same for her.
Intaking this moment of you and her in one bed, nothing around but a room filled of silence and being struck by the bright sunlight of the morning. She looked at your bodies laying together until her eyebrows furrow when she spotted something strange under you.
Tzuyu saw a hump-shaped formed onto the blanket that is covering your lower blanket. She was curious to see what it is as she noticed how it almost seemed like it's moving.
Taking off the blanket around you, it had her thinking twice if what she just did is not right at all.
But that doesn't mean she didn't like it at all.
Tzuyu was staring at the source of that hump, and that is coming from your short that is having a tent marked on your crotch.
Unlike from the blanket, what she's looking at was even more obvious at what shape it is. It was long, large and diagonally laying down, measuring it as it reaches down to the upper part of your thigh.
Tzuyu was blushing hard as she realized that she just witnessed you having the most common thing for boys: a morningwood. You have no idea at all that you have a woman beside you who is clearly seeing how hard you can get with whatever reason it may be.
She became so curious, almost deciding if she'll take a touch of it to found out what it feels. Her hands raised up and fidgeting to go forward onto your crotch.
That is, until she got interrupted when she shrieked a little as she saw you moved, and your new position got her swallowing her threat and nervousness crawling inside.
You are now laying sideways, with your front figure now facing her. Tzuyu can feel your morningwood pressing against her bare thighs, and she swear that it's driving her hormones crazy when her skin can feel the warmth of your covered erected cock laying down on her touch.
"He feels so big, oh my goodness." Tzuyu whispered. She even teased it by gently bouncing your cock on her thigh by moving it up and down slowly. Her thighs start to rub with each other as she is beginning to become horny.
"N-no... control yourself, Tzu. You don't want to end up harassing your friend while sleeping. This isn't right." Tzuyu quickly shook her head before carefully removing herself away from your side, standing up from the bed.
As she is now on her feet, she glanced downwards and noticed a wet spot on her shorts. She was shocked to see that she got easily wet thinking about your elongated cock earlier. It had her panicked and rushed quickly at the bathroom to aid this.
Minutes later, you woke up after still in your morning wood, not having any clue that Tzuyu seen that beast earlier. You tried to fixed it by repositioning it on your boxers and hid it under the hem of your shirt.
You exit the bedroom and saw Tzuyu preparing your breakfast on the table. "Wow, Tzuyu I wasn't expecting that you'll be the one to cook." You chuckled as you saw the mouthwatering scrambled eggs and fried rice with the plates.
"Well, I don't want to do nothing while staying here you know. I want to remain productive too." Tzuyu smiled. Her eyes glided down to your shorts and remembering what she just saw almost distracted the stability of her mind. "G-good morn-ning, YN.", she awkwardly greeted you.
"Good morning too, Tzu. Let's eat?"
The two of you began to eat and start some random topics to talk during your breakfast. After both were finished, you volunteered to do some dishes while Tzuyu asks permission to take a shower in which you granted and willingly let her borrow your spare clothes for the meantime.
While you on your way back to the kitchen to grab a new clean rug from your storage area, you heard something that catched your attention from the bathroom door. Your hearing is very sharp and sensitive that's why you can immediately catch on the sounds around you.
And this one is a bit surprising and... enticing. You pressed your ear closer at the door and there you heard loud and clear the sound of someone moaning inside. It definitely is coming from Tzuyu and judging from the noise she's creating, you probably guessed that she must be doing something to satisfy her needs: and you cannot believe it that you have your girl bestfriend masturbating in the bathroom of your own freaking house.
You quickly rushed away out of the door when you noticed that the noise stopped. As you returned to the kitchen, you gently massaged your cock getting hard from that sultry noise.
Is s-she... Fuck, I'm getting turned on with my friend masturbating. Goddamn, control it YN. You don't want her to caught you acting lewd." You hissed yourself before continuing with your dishes.
Tzuyu emerged from the bathroom, just as time you finished washing dishes. You sheepishly avoided her by quickly grabbing your towel and take your turn next at the bathroom to shower.
As you stepped inside after closing the door to see Tzuyu sitting on the couch and looking at her phone, you looked around your bathroom and had you imagined Tzuyu doing her own business earlier in this exact spot.
It made you rush quickly on taking a bath while fighting with the urge to masturbate by squeezing and massaging your cock and balls with soap, basically edging yourself away from doing so.
It was then you finished, you realized that you forgot to bring your clothes with you at your rush. "I have to be quick."
You opened the door and was about to dash outside when it shocked you that Tzuyu was walking at the same direction as you, emerging out from the kitchen, resulting in her to collide at your naked body. Her feet accidentally pulled your towel after she slumped backwards to control her balance, causing your towel to unveil your lower part.
Both became speechless and flustered as you realized that your largened cock has now exposed to Tzuyu's innocent eyes. You tried to cover it with your hands despite it's massive size. "O-OH SHIT, TZUYU DON'T LOOK!"
You exclaimed to her but instead she remained staring, gawking at it's size. "Oh my god please turn around, i'll take back my towel. I'm so s-"
"You don't have to, I've seen it already."
"Huh?"
Your face crumpled in confusion at what Tzuyu said. "I-I've seen your thing a while ago after I woke up and I noticed that it's... h-hard. It's bulging on your boxers that I was concerned it might break it by itself."
"And I-I felt bad about it, I- I almost want to help it..." Tzuyu slowly steps forwards, removes your hands from blocking it and returns her sight at your cock now pointing at her, she inspects how it throbs everytime her eyes stare longer at it. "T-Tzuyu wait..."
"Does it give you difficulty right now, YN? I-I'm willing to help you, if you d-don't mind." Tzuyu looked at you with her mischievous soft demeanor. You gasped at her offer.
"But Tzuyu, are you sure about that? This is so embarassing but..."
"Hmm?"
"I don't have a problem w-with it, it's just that... oh God I can't form my words coming out of my mouth well!"
"Don't stress yourself, you said it already." Tzuyu shushed you as she patted your chest. She leaned at your face and landed a surprise kiss on you, making your eyes widen and jaw drop more at her action. "For now, just let me repay you in return for helping me by doing t-the same for you~"
She slowly lowered herself down to her knees, now kneeling in front of you. Her eyes and now leveled equally with your cock facing at her. She bit her lips and viewed at it with mesmerizing gazes. "I've only seeing these from the internet, and I was so right that to see this in personal is a much better deal to admire. I might get addicted with this."
Her hands surrounded the thickness of your cock. She slowly pulls it and bends it upwards, tightening her grip before she starts pumping it in a dangerously slow pace. She heard your deep sigh and looked upwards to see your face floating in cloud nine.
"Does it feel good, YN?"
"Y-yeah, it does. God, it's so much better than using my own hand."
Tzuyu smiled at that compliment. She started to stroke you even more, her fist kept that grip before her other available hand started to come to play too, targeting your testicles.
Your hanging huge balls got fondled with care. "It feels so full and heavy, YN." She pointed out. "Are you even doing it?"
"Y-yeah..." you said as you started to hold her hair and rub it gently.
"How often?"
"J-just... two times in a week, sometimes months." Your breath became raggy as she began increasing the speed of her fists jacking off your thick meat. "Oh god, Tzu..."
"Are you ready, YN?"
"For what?"
She didn't had to reply verbally, but instead gave you the answer orally by circling your mushroom head leaking pre-cum already with her tongue.
"S-shit! I'm sensitive t-there, oh!" You gasped loud as Tzuyu continues to do foreplay on your helpless cock, licking the entire length and juggling each of your balls with her puckered mouth.
After feeling satisfied, she now puts your entire meat inside her mouth and starts bobbing her head off. She fucked herself with an increasing force until her nose is now touching your groin.
Tzuyu pointed at her head and hair to signal you something in which you understood right away. You gripped it and started doing the favor on your own by fucking her mouth with your own choosing of speed.
Your desire on having such lustful act with Tzuyu is making you overwhelm, urging you to participate further in this with her. With the tightening of your groin, you mercilessly pounded her face to race through the end.
"I'm cumming, Tzuyu. Where do you want me in?"
Tzuyu just pointed at her throat. Few pumps and that's all it took for you to blast off your warm seed, filling up her mouth with your load that was saved up for months of your inactivity to ejaculate.
She slowly lets go of your cock with a loud pop before cleaning her lips with the remaining traces of cum left. "We can do it right here, but my pussy is unavailable for now. I-I don't want to get pregnant y-yet..."
"It's fine, Tzuyu. I respect that." You got her point. She must be fearing that she might cause additional stress for her parents in the middle of their financial crisis just to assist her on supporting her pregnancy and the child's needs once she gave birth to it.
You took a mental note that now you're having sex with her, a necessary caution would be required first to perform to ensure the safety.
"But that doesn't mean we can't pleasure ourselves anymore without that. You can still use my body... wear condoms, but only for this another hole I got behind me." She said as she stood up and turned her back on you, making her posture upright as she presents you her ass and rubbing it on your cock.
You had enough of her teasing, you lifted her shirt up and pulled her through her torso. Your hands climbed up to her bra-covered boobs. They are average sized at it's finest, perfect enough to fit in your palm.
You unclasped her bra and removed it around her, now playing on her naked tits while you devoured her neck with supple kisses. She purred and yelped at the sensation she's getting from you pleasing her.
Your fingers pinched and twirling her nipples before you turned her around and made her kiss you. You carried her body and brought her on the couch while she is wrapped around you.
You sat on the couch with her on your lap. Letting go of her lips, you then head on to her breasts by give the attention it deserves, sucking and licking the light-brown delectable areolas and nipples that she have while massaging each it to intensify the pleasure.
Tzuyu was just moaning at your active mouth running around her sensitive area. Your hands then moved around her ass as you kneaded her cheeks from her short before you hooked on the waistband and removed it from her legs.
Her now exposed underwear is the only garment she has left. She crawled on the bed and went all fours. You switched behind her and kneeled, facing her alluring ass as you removed her underwear and took a sniff on it.
Her asshole and the outline of her restricted pussy is now visible to your hungry eyes. Without no more hesitation, you rubbed yourself around her cheeks, making her gasp at the air that you blew from your nose and mouth having in contact with her private areas, tickling her into goosebumps.
You start licking her pussy, wiggling her outer walls before you spreaded it with your fingers then inserted it inside, making Tzuyu scream in surprise. Your mouth then worked next on her hole and sucked on each of her cheeks to grab a taste of her cake.
"Mmmhhmmphhh yeah you're so good at this, YN oh fuck~" she said while grinding her ass across your face and feel your fingers pumping back and forth in her pussy. She started to shiver when you quickened your movement, leaving her in a screaming, groaning mess.
"Ughhh yes fuck fuck fuck YN i'm so close, keep that fingers deep within me~" Tzuyu purred as she gripped tight at the back of the couch, enduring the huge pleasure being provided to her by her dear bestfriend.
"I'm cumming, i'm cumming on your face YN!" Tzuyu yelled before she squirted her love nectar straight to your awaiting face and mouth, tasting and slurping her juices as you slowly rode her orgasm out with slow fingering.
You didn't let Tzuyu to recover some more time as you stood up and jerked your cock at the gaps of her ass. "Are you ready, Tzu?"
"Yes, please. I can take it. I want it to be you, YN. You're the only one I trust."
"I'm glad so, Tzuyu. Tell me if I need to stop okay?"
She nodded. You directed your tip to her entrance and slowly entered. You heard Tzuyu groaned as each inch are now pressing her hole.
"A-ah wait, YN let me adjust." Tzuyu hissed and fixed her position in all fours. "Alright, continue."
You gently pushed deeper and now your cock is inside her ass. You started to move, and you gasped at how tight her ass feels around you, feeling the way she clench when your crotch bumps at her ass.
Sensing that this makes it even feel much better fucking her, you started clapping her ass as you feel like it. Tzuyu just continues to blabber random words of praises and constant moans while your speed changes from rough to vanilla.
Her sultry, sexy voice has reduced to a hum when she felt another splash of wamrth inside of her, but this time in her hole as you shoot another load of cum on her ass with regards to safety of commiting sex with her.
As you pulled out, you saw some few overflow out of her asshole. You gritted your teeth in guilt. "I-i'm sorry, I think I may have done it too much."
Tzuyu giggled and sighed at your considerate behavior. "Don't feel too bad about it, YN. It just means that you really gave it all... which is what I really want from you." She winked.
You blushed before standing back up. "I'm gonna go grab some tissue." You said as you left her for a while before going back to wipe the remaining cum on her ass to keep the couch left unstained with the smell of sex.
"Want to go for one more round?" She challenged you with a smirk as she sat properly beside you, crossing her legs.
"I'm in. What do you want next?"
"Hmm, I think it's time for you to decide for this one. I'm already satisfied with my own cravings, now it's your turn." Tzuyu said, posing herself like she's in deep thoughts. "May I ask you one? What part of my body do you actually admire?"
You traced her naked body but there's this one specific part that drives you crazy whenever you get hynoptized at it's perfect shape and thickness. "If i'm going to be honest, your best gift that was sculpted by the gods for you is your heavenly thighs, Tzu." You swayed your head while whistling at how magnificent it looks.
"Tell me more about it." She flirtatiously whispered at you while playing with your hair.
"I love your ass, those cute tits and that talented mouth too, but your thighs are just too immaculate. Too unmatchable. It's so jiggly..." You started to ran your hands around her well-built thighs. "So smooth, so thick... I would be really honored to be suffocated in these damn pillows."
"Now you gave me an idea to show me what more of these can do." Tzuyu winked. She reaches for your semi-limp cock, awakening it back to it's full size by flicking her fingers around the bulbous head. Her legs shifted above your lap, with your cock sandwiched between those voluptuous thighs to die for.
"And you are very lucky to experience such a rare service coming from such Thighwanese beauty." She smirks before she squishes your hardened cock and strokes its skin with her thighs by lifting both her legs up and down.
"Ugh... mmmphh oh~" You moaned at the relaxing feeling of her thick thighs pumping off your shaft, eager to empty your remaining load you got. Tzuyu was enjoying the sight of yourself trapped and savoring the sensation of her strongest exual appeal.
"How does it feel having my thighs wrapped around your big cock, YN?"
"It's amazing..." You shut your eyes and gasped heavily at the feeling. "Shit, I can't hold much longer if you're doing like this to me Tzu!"
"Cum. Cum for me, YN. Let it out."
You assisted her legs on stroking you by holding her ankles while you buckle your hips, banging her juicy thighs smeared with your pre-cum as it ripples from the impact until you shoot another stream of sticky cum all over it including her knees.
Tzuyu lets you rest as she removes her legs from you and scooped all your cum on her fingers before eating it. She also cleaned your softening cock in payback to what you did to her ass a while ago, sucking it off until no drops are left.
She laid her head beside your arm and cuddled at your body. "I'm sorry if this is too sudden, YN. I got carried away that I started to act like this."
"It's fine, Tzu. You just wanted to destress, let's say in such different way." You nodded. "But it doesn't matter, as long as I get to make you happy and satisfied, I'm always open to accompany you." You smiled at her and caressed her hair. However, it disappointed when you changed from becoming serious.
"And also, I should be thanking you too Tzuyu for this moment. I've only done this for the first time with a woman, and... to be honest I have to dare myself saying this to you that... you are my ideal girl. The one that I admire for months now. The one that my heart only prefers." Your confession was heard in such clear and simple statement by Tzuyu, and she was very strucked and touched listening at your words.
"And what we did means so much to me because I get to do it with the girl that I love, although it saddens me to think if do you even feel the same as mine. I know I could've confessed to you in a much better setting and better time but I just want to express it all right now to clarify that these isn't just driven from lust, but through my sincere admiration for you that is swirling inside my heart. I love you, Tzuyu."
Tzuyu pursed her lower lip and smiled sweetly at your message. She holds your hands and looked dearly at you. "I'm relieved to know that this is both our first-time having sex together. I was a bit nervous and shy at first but I just let my desire and desperate need of your touch control me, and I'm also glad that it has to be you too, YN. I couldn't imagine other deserving man than only you who I can allow take my virginity."
She went forward and turned your face at her to perform another passionate kiss. "Because I love you too, YN and I will cherish this moment that we did."
"Through that, I must take responsibility for this too. Now shall I ask you something then?" You said.
"Go on." She chuckled.
"Will you be my girlfriend, Tzuyu?"
She grinned brightly at your initiation. "I would be very willing to."
After your heated session with Tzuyu, both of you went to wash yourselves again while doing another quickie session after can't stop getting enough yet with your insatiable bodies.
Now back on getting dressed up, you and Tzuyu proceeded to discuss about her family problem story where you have finally lended some advices for her that might be helpful about their current situation.
More than a week later, you helped her to return back on their home after saving enough courage to confront her parents. When they saw her made her heading back to their home, the married Chou couple welcomed their daughter as they have now settled into peace.
Tzuyu and you then decided to maintain their relationship secret for the meantime as they start to date and explore their affection for each other further. You are also planning to accompany her on looking for a part-time job after she decided that she really needs it, as she prepares herself to balance it with her studies. Not forgetting this kind of relationship you established with her, you and Tzuyu would proceed to fulfill more of your fantasies together mostly taken place at your home like pleasuring yourselves in other various positions that involves rimming, entertaining yourself when one of you is bored by feasting on her pussy, boobs and your cock, or even your most favorite of them all: compressing your face in between her flawless ass and thighs until you end up unconscious.
#twice#twice fanfic#twice smut#tzuyu smut#twice x male reader#tzuyu x male reader#twice oneshot#twice au#kpop oneshot#kpop smut#kpop au#kpop fanfic#chou tzuyu#tzuyu
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✿ “Flowers for me?” ✿
Just a note that I have yet to beat WuWa yet ;w; so there’s probably going to be some out of characterness in this but I’m gonna try to make sure it’s canon to character…
Parings: Jiyan / Male!Rover x (GN) Reader 🫶 (Separate)
Headcanons / Oneshot / Drabble / Series
Content warnings: None! Fluff! Although there is a bit of Jealous Rover in here
Plot: In which you buy flowers for them! ( Along with a few silly hcs of them getting you flowers )
Male Rover
✿ ~ He’s a busy man, often hurrying around the city and the land in general, helping people… although he’ll always be back in your arms before the day ends and he’ll most often bring flowers with him. Occasionally he’ll buy them from wherever he can find them but most times it’s picked from the ones he finds while out and about.
✿ ~ There was a sale on the flowers today at the flower shop… and after some thinking, you had selected a bouquet of various yellow flowers, the variety of colors reminding you of his golden eyes.
✿ ~ So buy it and head home, making sure it’ll remain fresh then you spend the rest of the day going about your tasks. By the time the day finishes, you’re waiting outside the home, holding the bouquet close, waiting for the whirlwind of a man to come by.
✿ ~ And it doesn’t take long for him to appear.
You’re waiting outside, the sun beginning to slowly creep down the sky, crawling towards the horizon and painting the city of Jinzhou in various hues of pinks, oranges, and purples. The scent of the flowers you’ve purchased rests in the air and fills up your nose, the noises of the city settling down infiltrating your ears as you wait patiently for your love…
Then, the familiar sound of swift footsteps hits your ears, shoes clicking against concrete. You place the flowers down beside you, turning your head just in time to be scooped up by familiar arms that lift you up, twirling you around before carefully setting you down… and there he is, your Rover standing there like an excited puppy.
"Hi there!" He chirps, leaning close to press his lips against your forehead, the warm feeling making a smile rest on your face.
"I brought you these," Rover hums as he straightens up, moving to display his chosen flowers, a swirling variety of pink flowers, some Pecok flowers and Belle poppy flowers, a few other kinds, some of them a little more damaged then others, telling of the length he had carried them with him for.
"Thank you, Rover," You smiled, taking the flowers from him and giving them a sniff for a moment before turning to grab your own bouquet.
As you turned around, his eyes quickly locked on to the flowers… there was a small look of… almost disappointment? "Did someone else give you those?" Ah, it wasn’t disappointment but rather a bit of jealousy.
"No," You hummed, turning to hold out the flowers to him, holding the ones he had grabbed for you close to your chest, "These are for you."
You have to stifle a giggle at the way his eyes widen slightly, looking at the flowers in his hands, then back at you for a moment… and repeat for a moment before he snaps out of it, "I… Thank you, (Y/N)!"
Your gaze softens slightly, you can’t help it. His happiness almost feels infectious, giving a soft sniff to the flowers in his hands then looking up at you and beaming, his delight making your heart flutter as you reach out to gently ruffle his hair, "C’mon, lets put these in vases."
Jiyan
✿ ~ Similar to Rover, he too is a rather busy man. It’s not often you get to see him. Often on the battlefield, working hard to protect Jinzhou from TD’s, it makes it difficult to get much time with you. Although when he does, he values it greatly. Often times he’ll bring bouquets of flowers when he comes, most times as an apology for going so long without visiting.
✿ ~ One time, you asked what his flower was while cuddled close to him, your eyes watching his as he thought about it for a moment before giving a a response, you made sure to remember it, writing it down the next morning just so you wouldn’t forget and tucking away the note.
✿ ~ You were sure you keep track of when his next visit was, preparing the gift for him with quite a bit of excitement, unable to help it. You wondered how he would react to it while you were purchasing the bouquet… you waited quite excitedly for him, holding the flowers close at he arrived.
The sun peaked in the sky, casting golden rays into the city. It was growing noisier around as the Jinzhou also reached its peak in activity. Children tugging their parents around eagerly, lovers with hands connected as they wandered the streets, the hubbub of people's conversations filling the air, fresh food somewhere around and the sweet floral smell of the flowers in your hands giving a scent to the air.
Over everything, the scent of familiar flowers hit you, your eyes fluttering open to see Jiyan heading towards you, a loving look resting in his eyes as you both lowered the flowers away from your forms, rushing to meet him halfway. Your arms encircled around his form, nuzzling into his chest as his arms circled around you, leaning down to place a kiss to your forehead, smiling.
“Hello, my love,” He murmured, briefly letting go of you to show the flowers he had gotten, a variety of blue and purple hues, mixed together in a beautiful way, the scent familiar, "I got these for you."
"Thank you," You murmur, placing a kiss on his cheek as you take the flowers from them, holding them close and giving them a small sniff, catching the familiar scents that made you remember the first time he had brought you such flowers.
You looked up, noticing his curious expression to the ones you had bought, hesitating for a moment before speaking, "Did someone get you those?" He asked, looking up from the flowers to your gaze with... a hint of fear, like he was scared someone had stolen your heart while he was gone.
"Oh, no," You chirped, smiling at him for a moment, shaking your head and easing his concerns, holding out the bouquet for him, "I bought them for you... you mentioned your favorite flowers last time, so I thought I'd get you some..."
His eyes widened slightly, a pink tint coming to rest on his cheeks as he carefully took the flowers from you, holding them close. "Really..?" You didn't think you'd get over that expression as he looked at the flowers, then you, a soft, warm gaze on you, "Thank you... I love you."
"I love you too... Lets head home and get these secure, mm?" You questioned, smiling at him and reaching to take his hand.
Thank you for reading! 🫶
Link to divider
#wuthering waves x reader#jiyan x reader#rover x reader#wuwa jiyan#jiyan#jiyan wuthering waves#jiyan wuwa#jiyan x you#wuwa rover#male rover#rover#rover wuthering waves#rover wuwa#rover x you#wuthering waves#wuwa x reader#wuwa#wuwa x you#how many tags can I add? I’m running out of them…
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warning: 18+, NSFW, Slight submissive to dominant Miguel, Creampie, Penetration
Précis: You think you need someone older.
A/N: sorry i’ve been gone for a min , been going thru some things , but i’m back ❤️.
Edits & Look-overs: 3
It’s a Saturday morning.
The sun comes spilling in through the curtains, hitting your face. Your eyes begin to flutter as your body shifts and you roll over in bed. You’re just trying to get some rest after being swamped with papers at work causing you to pull a late shift last night. You’re utterly exhausted. You let out an exhale through your nose, curling up into a ball while your grip tightens and loosens on your pillow. You relaxed, practically sinking out of relaxation into your bed, until —
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Your restful state was interrupted by the loud and obnoxious beeps of a moving truck in reverse, or a big truck, at that. Is someone moving something? It sounded close by, too. You yawn and sit up, your eyes taking a couple moments to adjust to the light. You swing your legs out of bed walk over to your window and peer out of it, looking around. You spot a U-Haul backing into a driveway, the driveway of a house that was right next to yours. New neighbors…
That house had been for sale for a couple months now. You knew the neighbors ever since you were little, Al and Sharon. They were middle-aged and still working when you met them, but time waited for nobody. Your mom and dad’s house was now yours after they found work in Atlanta, and Al and Sharon were now seniors in retirement, going on to buy a beach house in Florida. You felt a tinge of anger at the buyer’s audacities to buy the house, as if they stole it. Maybe it was just the stolen memories in that house. How Sharon would always invite you for cookies. How the couple felt like an aunt an uncle to you…
Whatever. You continued peering out of your window, trying to get a good look at the buyers, plural or singular. Your eyes fall upon a man who stepped out of the U-Haul, stretching and cracking his neck. He was handsome, you couldn’t even deny it. Tall, muscular, medium skin, and features you wish you could see up close. You didn’t really mind having a sight to look at every day.
You smirked as you mulled over that, but the smirk faded into a smaller one as you watched the passenger door open, and out came a little girl who looked no older than 10. The man gently took her by the hand as she ran up to him, leading her into the house. Your expression softens. You didn’t see a woman come out of the U-Haul. Could the mother be somewhere else? On the way? You’re not sure, but you don’t want to know. You’re not a nosy neighbor. Right?
Two days later, after you’re sure that your new neighbor is settled, you whip up a batch of delicious cookies Sharon gave you the recipe to. You absolutely had to take at least one from the batch, they were just that good. Sharon’s cookies never missed. You dressed presentably before walking out of your house, a plastic container in your hands which contained the fresh batch of cookies. You walked next door, clearing your throat before ringing the doorbell.
You wait for a few moments before you hear a lock turn and the door swing open. You’re met with a 6’9, muscular, and imposing figure. God, he’s much taller than you thought. “Hi, I’m your next door neighbor, um, I’d just like to welcome you into the neighborhood,” you say, extending your arms out with the plastic container in your hands. The man glances down at them and smiles softly before taking them, “I appreciate it.”
You nod and hum in response, and he looks at you, smiling softly. “What’s your name?” he asks. “I’m Y/N, pleasure to meet you,” you say, extending your hand out for a handshake. He shifts the plastic container in one hand and shaking your hand with the other. His grip was firm, his hands large and slightly calloused. “Pleasure’s all mine. I’m Miguel.” he says, looking you in the eyes as he spoke.
The two of you smile at each other before retracting your hands back. Miguel clears his throat before speaking, "Would you like to come in?" You pause for a moment before sighing. "Sure, why not," you say, stepping inside when Miguel moved aside to let you in. You look around, letting out a hum of approval as you see the sheer effort he put into the house these past two days. "I'm surprised," you say, "I was expecting the house to be pretty much empty considering the fact you only moved in a couple days ago..." you mutter loud enough for Miguel to hear.
He lets out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, well, I'm a fast worker." he says, gesturing for you to sit down on the couch. You sit down, looking at him as he sits on the other side of the couch so he's looking directly at you. "So, how old are you if you don't mind me asking?" he asked. "I'm 27,” you say simply, "You?"
"Ah. I'm 32," he replies. You nod your head in response, both of you looking at each other. "So, where are you from originally?" you ask, breaking the silence. "Oh, I'm from New York. I moved here for a fresh start, y'know? Gotta give my kid a good life." Miguel replies. You pause for a moment. Was that the little girl you saw getting out of the U-Haul? There's no way... you thought that was his niece.
"Right... um, where's the mother if you don't mind me asking?" you ask curiously, worried you offended him with that question. He looks at you for a second or two before sighing. “She’s uh… she passed.” Miguel explains. You look at him, your eyes softening with the guilt from even asking in the first place. “I’m so sorry…” you say. “It’s okay.” he replies, waving his hand slightly. Then, your ears catch the sound of feet going pitter-patter upstairs. Your eyes trail up to the ceiling before lowering back to meet Miguel’s gaze. “Papá! Come up! There’s too much sink water!” Gabriella shrieked from upstairs, making you flinch slightly. Miguel sighed, pinching his temple before standing up.
“Sorry about that.” Miguel says, and you nod understandingly. “It’s okay. I’ve gotta go, anyway,” you smile softly. “It was nice meeting you.” you say softly, and he smiles back. “Likewise.” he replied. You stand up and walk over to the front door, leaving his home. It was nice meeting him, but, you realized one thing.
He was a fucking DILF.
You and Miguel went from acquaintances to good friends within one month, and he trusted you enough to babysit one night. He had to go out for something he wouldn’t tell you about. Maybe it was about his deceased wife, you didn’t know and wouldn’t push it any further. Babysitting Gabriella was great, she was kind, sweet, funny, qualities that you enjoyed and reciprocated to her.
You were sitting in her room, listening intently as she rambled about her different records, gesturing to her record player on her table. She had a deep love for music, something both of you could relate to. She was so respectful, mature, held her boundaries when needed. It made your opinion about Miguel shift, too. You thought more of him. He raised his daughter so amazingly that this is how she turned out. Your thoughts cloud your mind, making you doze off…
“Y/N? You okay?” Gabriella’s voice breaks that fog in your mind, making you blink a little. “Oh, yep — I’m okay.” you nod, looking down at the carpet the two of you were sitting on, and the records laid out. Your hand moves over them, not feeling any dust as you swipe your hand over them. You let out a thoughtful hum. “Which record is your favorite, Gabi?” you ask, looking up at Gabriella. “Ooh… I really like this one,” she says, tapping her index finger on a Jhené Aiko album. You nod your head, “Good choice. Really good choice.”
The sound of your conversations echo through Gabriella’s room, until you hear someone clearing their throat in the doorway. “Having fun?” Miguel’s deep gravelly voice could cut through air. You and Gabriella whip your heads in his direction, the little girl immediately standing up and rushing over to her dad. “Papá! You’ve been gone for so long!” she exclaims, hugging his torso tightly — the spot she could reach. “I know, I know, mijita, there was just a lot of rain and I had to drive slower than I would if there wasn’t rain.” Miguel explains, patting her head and caressing her scalp. You watch the interaction with a smile, standing up and dusting yourself off.
“Okay. Gosh, it’s late. A dormir, mija.” Miguel says, pressing on Gabriella’s back slightly ro nudge her along to her bed, where she hurries off and crawls into her bed, yawning softly. You lean down and pick up her records before placing them all in her pink record holder. Once he’s done tucking her in, the two of you head out of her room, Miguel turning off the light before you close the door. Once the door’s closed, he looks at you. “She looked happy with you. Thank you, Y/N.” he says as the two of you walk down the hall and down the stairs. “Oh, it’s no problem! She’s so easy-going, your daughter’s amazing, really.” you say, smiling. Miguel smiles softly, “I appreciate it.” he says.
“Well,” you start, sighing, “Time for me to go.” you say, but as you glance out the window you do a double-take. It was almost flooding out. You scoff under your breath, in utter disbelief. “Damn…” you say, and you feel Miguel’s breath hitting the back of your head as he stares out of the window as well. “You sure you wanna walk home?” he asked, chuckling under his breath. “I mean, I’m only next door, it won’t really do me dama-” you’re cut off the sound of thunder booming, causing you to yelp. “You were saying?” Miguel quipped, smirking. You roll your eyes and sigh, “Fine. Sure. I’ll stay.”
“Good, good,” he says, gesturing you to sit down on the couch. He walks over to the kitchen and you hear him rummaging through the cabinets. “You drink?” he calls from the kitchen. “Sometimes… whatcha got?” you ask. “I can make really good Moscow Mules.” he replied. “Sounds good!” you call back.
A couple of minutes later, Miguel walks in with two Moscow Mules in his hands. You whistle in awe, sitting up on the couch as he set them down onto the coffee table. “Where’d you learn to make these?” you ask as he sits next to you. “I had a buddy back in New York, he was a bartender. I picked up a few things from him.” Miguel says, shrugging. You hum in understanding. He gestures to the drink, and you pick it up by the handle. You take a sip, your eyes widening slightly. You’ve only had a couple of Moscow Mules throughout your life, but this is the best one hands down. You pull your lips away from the mug as you swallow, “Wow…”
“Good?” Miguel grins, looking at you. “Soo good,” you reply. He nods and picks his own mug up, taking a large swig out of it like it was water. You scoff under your breath with a smile on your face. He then leans over and picks up the remote, turning on the TV. “What type of movies do you like?” he asks. “Mm… I like horror a lot,” you say softly as you take another sip of your Moscow Mule. “Alright.” he says, putting on Annabelle.
20 minutes into the movie, Miguel speaks, “Thank you for taking care of Gabi tonight. I appreciate it.” You look at him and smile. “Of course, she’s a really great kid. She was raised well.” you say. “Thank you.” he smiles, staring at your lips the whole time you were speaking. His thoughts were all on you. Gabriella’s asleep and the two of you are alone… fucking during a movie could be so-
No. Miguel, she’s just your good friend.
A silence ensues, interrupted by the occasional scream or rustle from the horror movie. You look at the TV intently, still sipping your Moscow Mule, ignoring the fact that Miguel’s mug was already empty and has been for minutes. Suddenly, you’re caught off guard by an intense jumpscare, which causes you to flinch and rub against Miguel. He instinctively grabs onto your thigh to comfort you. “Damn, you good?” he asks, looking at you. You nod, but your eyes trail down to his hand which was on your thigh.
“Oh, sorry-“ he hesitates, but you rest your hand on his. You look at him with slightly pleading eyes, eyes that just read ‘don’t move your hand away’. He didn’t hesitate anymore as you looked at him like that. He just chuckled under his breath and looked away, continuing to watch the movie. You felt his large hand massage your thigh, kneading the skin through your jeans. Your lips parted slightly as his hand trailed upwards slightly, and he could practically feel the heat growing in between your legs. You could feel the tension in the air. The thick tension. But even with that, you felt comfortable in a way. You enjoyed being touched like that by Miguel for some odd reason, and you sort of knew why. The two of you exchange glances through peripherals for a couple of minutes before Miguel’s grip on your thigh gets tighter all of a sudden.
“Fuck it. Come here.” Miguel grunted out, moving his head towards you and pulling your head towards him, crashing his lips onto yours. You gasp sharply at the sensation of his lips on yours, but you quickly accommodate to the feeling. They were so warm, so inviting. His hand moved to the back of your head, gently grasping the hair there to keep you in place. When he felt you part your lips, he gently dipped his tongue in to your mouth, making you taste him for the first time. You moaned softly at the taste. He tasted like vodka and mint.
Both of your hands were grabbing at anything they could, Miguel’s hands pulling you closer to him as your hands slip under his sweater. He pulls you onto his lap, your bodies flush against each other as he kisses you hungrily. His hands trail down to your ass, squeezing gently before reaching back up to slip off your shirt. He does so quickly, tossing the useless fabric to the couch. He does the same thing with the rest of your clothes, including his, creating this pile of clothes on the side of the couch. You can feel his tent in his underwear, and the small wet spot from pre-cum. He was practically aching for you, and it isn’t surprising considering the tension you two have had since the start. You break the kiss and watch as he shifts under you to slide his hand in his boxers and fish his cock out. His tip was weeping precum, begging your heat to envelop it.
He does all of this while looking you in the eyes, his fingers moving with ease. “Ven aquí, give me those pretty lips.” he muttered, pressing his lips against yours again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, not bothered by the silver chain wrapped around it. You could feel his tip press against your mound, the swollen flesh begging to be cared for. He tugged at the hem of your panties and looked into your eyes, as if asking for permission. He smirked when you nodded eagerly, showing no hesitance whatsoever. With one swift motion, he slipped them off of you and glided them off your legs, tossing them onto the pile of clothes without care.
“So fuckin’ beautiful.” Miguel muttered, reaching down and rubbing your clit gently with his thumb, biting down on his bottom lip as you whined softly. He continued rubbing your sensitive nub, only eliciting more moans from you. He continued his ministrations for a minute or two, until he felt your thighs begin to shake. “You gonna cum? Hm?” he cooed, the movements of his thumb growing a little rougher as you nodded your head. “I’m about to c-cum..” you breathe out, causing him to abruptly retract his thumb, leaving you whining in protest.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you cum that quick, did you?” Miguel grinned, his canines showing. You scoff under your breath and breathe out, nuzzling your face into his neck. Miguel shifted under you, positioning his fully-hard cock at your entrance, eliciting a gasp from you as you felt the tip teasingly rubbing against your sex. You tremble slightly as he pushes in gently, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. You whimper softly, trembling so much you’re just unable to grind or move your hips at all. He encourages you slightly, guiding your hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. He groans out as he feels your movements, your walls contracting on his cock are all it takes to make him slightly lightheaded.
It’s been years since he’d had sex, so he didn’t expect to last long. As long as it was with you.
“Fuck…” Miguel grunted softly, his grip loosening on your hips as his control loosened with it. “Slow, slow, just like that…” he breathed out, letting his hands fall back to his sides as his eyes went half-lidded. You braced your hands on his broad shoulders, slowly grinding on his cock as you felt him go limp in your arms. You analyzed his face as you continued to slowly grind on him, smiling softly as you saw pleasure written all over his face. He moved his hands up and moved you lower on him, his cock filling you to the brim. You felt his tip kiss your cervix, eliciting a loud whimper. Your mewls and his grunts filled the room, and the pace began to gradually increase.
Your movements went from grinding to bouncing the closer the two of you got, but either one was sending Miguel into an internal frenzy. His eyes were almost rolling into the back of his head as he groaned loudly, feeling that familiar knot in his stomach. “Fuck… keep doing that…” he gasped, his cum threatening to pour out any second now. You weren’t any better, your legs shaking uncontrollably until they started giving out, your bounces on his cock slowing down greatly, causing him to huff slightly. “Hold on. Hold on, stay still. Let me do some work,” Miguel panted out, wrapping his arms around the small of your back and shifting his legs before beginning to thrust up into your pussy.
You let out a choked out moan, pressing your body against his, your breaths heavy as he managed to rail you from underneath you. “Fuuuck, you’re so tight,” he breathed out, holding you in place as you writhed in his arms. You whine in response, practically gasping for air at this point.
And just like that, his hips stuttered as his cum shot into you, and your walls tightened around his cock, milking it for every last drop. His movements slow as he slowly thrusts his cum into you, both of your noises filling the living room, the TV barely drowning out the noise. It just blended. Miguel looked up at you, reaching up and taking your chin in between his thumb and index. “Look at me,” he says, moving his head to find your eyes. When you do, he chuckles softly. “You okay? Need anything?” he asks, leaning forward to gently plant a kiss on your forehead.
You shake your head and smile, “Nah. I’m okay.” you say, smiling, but your smile fades when you head a voice from upstairs.
“But I’m not! Miss Y/N, please stop boxing my daddy! I’m trying to go to sleep!” Gabriella calls out from upstairs before slamming her door back up. You freeze, your face turning beet red. Boxing, huh? You can safely say that you’ll never fuck that man in his house again.
#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara fanfiction#fanfic#astv miguel#miguel 2099#spiderman 2099#sm 2099#2099#fantasy#imagine#y/n#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel x y/n#astv x y/n
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ROOMMATE!YOONGI who covers you every night when you fall asleep in front of the television. whether winter or summer, Yoongi always made a point of accommodating you on your small sofa. with a white blanket in the summer and a blue blanket in the winter, Yoongi covered you carefully, letting the smooth fabric begin to warm you before he considered whether or not press a kiss to your forehead. yes, you were sleeping, you wouldn’t notice. no, you could wake up, you would mock him. just a sigh and a turn away with a pink tint on his cheeks — tomorrow he would give you that kiss, yes. “one of these day you get sick and i don’t want to take care of you. i’m just saving myself work in the future. it’s just that, that’s all.”
ROOMMATE!YOONGI who would buy groceries with you just to know what you would like so he could buy it for you when you needed it most. as he pushed the cart, seeing your body walking excitedly in front of him, Yoongi always made a mental note of all the brands you touched and talked about, paying special attention to the ones where you just looked and smiled. one day, he would offer you what you like most. but you can’t know that’s the reason he always goes shopping with you. “these cookies were on sale and i know you like them, so i decided to buy them. if you want, i can go back and buy that juice you really like. it’s not a hassle at all.”
ROOMMATE!YOONGI who makes a night of ice cream and wine when life is getting more complicated for you. lit only by the lamps in your living room, sharing a large bucket of your favorite ice cream, Yoongi sat next to you and listened to your outbursts. about work or family, friends or the world in general, Yoongi would let you talk for hours if necessary, just talking to offer you more wine or agree with people’s stupidity, always ending up giving you one or two pieces of advice and a story that would make you laugh. on the most complicated nights, Yoongi would be by your side, sharing a blanket, an ice cream, and a moment that would be eternal. “tell me all your worries and let me carry them in my heart for one night. let me relieve you of the weight of reality just for one night. let me help you.”
ROOMMATE!YOONGI who only lets you sit on his bed. Yoongi’s room was sacred, just like your room was sacred. but, as with all sacred temples, short visits had to be made regularly to maintain the fantasy charm. so, whenever you invaded Yoongi’s room to show him a video or share gossip about the neighbors, he would let you sit on his bed, secretly wishing some of your scent would get lost on its clothes. but only you could do that. it didn’t matter if it was a friend or family, Yoongi only let you sit on his bed, because it was only your smell that calmed Yoongi on the most turbulent nights. “sit on the bed, it’s more comfortable. but don't hug my pillow again. last time you left it disfigured and i couldn’t sleep. be more careful with my bed, thank you.”
ROOMMATE!YOONGI who leaves you little sticky notes on the bathroom mirror when he thinks you need it the most. words of encouragement or simply some reminders, several colorful squares were left on the bathroom mirror for you to find early in the morning. Yoongi wanted to remind you that you weren’t alone, ever. Yoongi was just a sticky note away. “i know how cruel the world can be, but don’t forget that if there is light and hope in this world, it is because you are in it. never forget your worth.”
ROOMMATE!YOONGI who leaves coffee or tea made for you in the morning before leaving the house. Yoongi was always the first to wake up, and when the house was still plunged into a deep silence, Yoongi prepared your favorite hot drink at the exact moment before he left and before you woke up. ever since Yoongi started doing you that little favor, he had never failed. every morning you were treated to your not-too-hot drink and the smell of Yoongi’s perfume still in the kitchen. “i’m glad you liked the drink. i just want to do something for you to start your day off right and show you that there’s still beauty in this world.”
ROOMMATE!YOONGI who didn’t know how to confess, he only knew that it couldn’t pass that night. the feeling consumed Yoongi from the inside, devouring his soul, destroying his entire essence. Yoongi felt trapped by that feeling. Yoongi had to free himself from that weight that squeezed his heart as quickly as possible. so, that night, Yoongi helped you tidy up the kitchen and, before you even put down the cloth, he took a deep breath and, asking for help from all the angels and saints and courage from all the gods and entities, Yoongi simply spoke. “i think i like you. well, actually i don’t think, i’m sure. but i don’t want to scare you or push you away with the truth of my feelings. just… just know that i like you, a lot.”
#!BTS bouquet꒱₊˚ᰔ.#yoongi#bts#yoongi scenarios#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#yoongi drabble#bts yoongi#bts scenarios#min yoongi#suga fluff#suga fic#bts suga#suga#bts fic#bts gifs#bts army#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts imagine#bts imagines#yoongi imagine#yoongi imagines#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#suga imagine#suga imagines#yoongi headcanons#suga headcanons
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I agree with you in principle about paying media creators, but the fact is that people who are spreading piracy stuff are often doing so because either 1) they don’t want to give money to the big corporations that control most mass media, or 2) they don’t have the money to give to creators of things they love. I agree that if you have the means to give proper support to things you love, you should, but not everyone has access to library resources (for example, not everyone is American/western and so not everyone has access to online pdfs through a library, or even libraries at all in some places) and it just feels very…. not extreme, but a bit harsh to equate reading a pdf with intentionally withholding money from creators. I’m sorry it this comes across rudely, that isn’t my intent, but it feels very unfair to generalise so harshly on a post about resources for when you can’t access certain things
You aren't entitled to someone else's labor just because it's art.
I'm going to repeat that, because people seem to be confused: you aren't entitled to someone else's labor just because it's art.
Just because you don't have money to pay a creator doesn't mean that you can take what you want and take money out of other people's pockets just because it's art.
I would love to have more art from @fofoart, but I don't have the money to pay them right now, so you know what that means? I don't have more art from them. I would love to read Thistlefoot right now, but I don't have the money to buy it at the moment, and so you know what that means? I wait until I can get it through my library or until I have the money to buy it, because I am not entitled to someone else's labor just because it's art.
There are plenty of books out there which can be read without pirating books. If you sign up to Tor's website you often get emails about free books and short stories. Project Guttenberg exists. Writers often post free stories on websites. There are more legitimate and free books out there right now, in the genres that you like and want to read, than you could ever read in ten lifetimes.
You are not entitled to someone else's labor just because it's art. You are not entitled to fuck up someone's sales numbers or make a publishing house go "your books are pirated too much so we're gonna pay you less" just because you want to read that specific book.
I mean, you can do that, I guess, but you can't do it and be morally correct about it. You can do it and be an asshole, or you can not do it, read one of the many many free books in this world, and not be an asshole.
There are no other choices. You don't get to just say "well I don't have money but I want this" and fucking steal it and then act like this is anything but theft. It's theft! It's not justified just because you really wanna read it!
This isn't "not supporting creators," this is stealing from artists because you feel entitled to do so because "I want it."
That's toddler logic. Grow up.
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