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#Jesus the only true living God
belovedoneofjesus · 9 months
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Acts2:38 Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptize every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Acts2:39 For the promise is unto you, and to your children,😇🙏
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umilily · 2 months
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waking up from a poorly timed nap to my friend once more making the worst possible life choices
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andromedasummer · 9 months
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i ended up having a like. 30 minute conversation with some of those "freedom convoy" people. was at the bus stop. they were wearing trump hats. i ended up roped into the conversation because i was so taken aback at seeing one in public i was just. staring at it. ive never felt more depressed about someone elses life and beliefs than when i talked to them.
#they fucking. tokd me about the litterboxes in schools for kids identifying as cats and i had to#break it to them that that wasnt true and explained that. also explained. what its like yo be autistic. how i find it joyful#and also discussed how they believe trump has been spoken to by god and chosen to lead and how they arent christians or catholics like they#used to be but instead talk directly to him and have him inside them#and also apparently how 15 minute cities in china are used to keep people imprisoned where they are#and we arent a democracy anymore. which was so funny considering. they are participating for a party#running in the election#i gave them my perspective on being transgender and gay and watched them have like. 3 or 4 ''are we the baddies'' moments#explained what puberty blockers actually do. that surgery is paid out of peoples own pockets. that we literally only have#one doctor who can perform these surgeries and hes abt to retire#and at the end of the convo they were like ''youre so pleasant. youre really smart young lady'' and i was like ''ty? i just. read a lot'#god i hope they learned. something. or i changed some opinion. they seemed to have a more positive view of autistic people at least#i just like. fuck dude. these fuckin right wing grifters are ruining these peoples lives.#the lady has been unemployeed since covid cos she got sucked into this antivax stuff and now theyre both financially unstable#perfect targets for tamaki and the freedoms people who were known for squeezing money out of people through bogus religious stuff#those two have been twisted into just. hateful and scared and are saying the most. insane shit and they dont even realize it.#and the worst part of it was the amount of young people there. so many people my age just deluded into this nonsense.#and kids JESUS CHRIST so many kids holding signs about ''protecting the kiwi way of life'' like bro every single thing#you are getting upset about an imported culture war. you arent threatened by this shit.#youve latched onto american culture war stuff because youre insecure in your whiteness and existence in a colonial country#its so fucking evil.
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Dunno how true any of this is but that's neat. Go rights or whatever.
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tabernacleheart · 2 years
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[As Jesus and His disciples] set out on their journey, a village of Samaritans, having learned that Jesus is headed toward Jerusalem– which was the city of their adversaries– does not welcome him. Outraged, the apostles James and John suggest to Jesus that He should punish those people by 'raining fire from heaven down on them'. Not only does Jesus not accept this proposal, He also rebukes the two brothers. They want to involve Jesus in their desire for revenge and He will have none of it. The “fire” that Jesus came to bring on the earth is something else (Lk 12:49): It is the merciful Love of the Father. And it takes patience, constancy, and a penitential spirit to make this fire grow.
James and John, instead, allow themselves to be overcome by anger. This happens to us too when, even when we are doing something good, perhaps even with sacrifice, we find a closed door instead of being welcomed. So we get angry. We even try to involve God Himself, threatening heavenly punishments. Jesus, instead, takes another route: not the path of anger, but that of a resolute decision to go forward [in doing God's will], which, far from translating into harshness, implies calm, patience, longsuffering-- not slackening the least bit in doing good [despite even the most pointed opposition]. This way of being does not connote weakness, no, but, on the contrary, a tremendous interior strength. It is easy, it is instinctive, to allow ourselves to be overcome by anger when faced with opposition. What is difficult, instead, is to master oneself, doing as Jesus did-- Who, as the Gospel says, “went on to another village”. This means that when we meet with opposition, we must turn toward doing good elsewhere, without recrimination. This way, Jesus helps us to be people who are serene, who are happy with the good accomplished, and who do not seek human approval.
Pope Francis
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yeslordmyking · 10 months
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John 10:11 — Today's Verse for Wednesday, August 9, 2023
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julietsbody · 3 months
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divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along. 
tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..
a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!! 
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luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.   
luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure. 
and he stuck true to that, until you came. 
he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there. 
always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car. 
you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.” 
he hesitates for a second, “hi.” 
“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater. 
“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?” 
you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”
luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way. 
jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father. 
he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them. 
at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?” 
another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church. 
there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him. 
“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision. 
he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?” 
“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow. 
“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?” 
as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more. 
“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up. 
the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying. 
luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep. 
he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper. 
his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear. 
when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him. 
but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does. 
everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 
luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger. 
heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret. 
but he was here, and so, he prayed. 
the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room. 
luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy. 
for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more. 
as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers. 
you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.” 
his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.” 
all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises? 
luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him. 
“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you. 
is it so cruel to only tease him harder? 
luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.” 
before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow. 
desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew. 
the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things. 
you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind. 
luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?” 
“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips. 
on reaching the place, 
he said to them, “pray that you 
will not fall into temptation.” 
the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs. 
luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced. 
you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?” 
he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you. 
“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together. 
“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales. 
“i’m not doing anything, luke.” 
“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.” 
“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church. 
“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.” 
“why don’t you show it to me?” 
absolution; 
formal release from guilt, 
obligation, or punishment. 
or.. 
an ecclesiastical declaration
of forgiveness of sins.
morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry. 
luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read. 
when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping. 
“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l. 
“tell me what you want.” 
it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course. 
“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh. 
he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation. 
god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight. 
 “you’re so big,” is all you can manage out. 
luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?” 
“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.” 
luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you. 
whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate. 
he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts. 
“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible. 
“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips. 
he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.” 
you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas. 
you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.
“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“ 
luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now. 
“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on. 
he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.” 
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starniolosposts · 2 months
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impulsive
pairing: chris sturniolo x reader
summary: chris impulsively texts you, and it end up with him between your thighs.
warnings: smut, face sitting, short oneshot
notes: hope you like it, don’t read if you don’t like sexual content! ill make more fluff in the future! btw pink is texts
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chris: hi, can you sit on my face??
you: dont know where this is coming from but yes i can
chris: really? like actually? you’re serious?
you: how about you come over and i can show you how serious i am?
chris: omw
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“fuck fuck fuck.” you whined, head falling foward to stare down at your best friend between your thighs.
you let out a cry as his lips sucked roughly around your clit, your knuckles turning white as you clutched onto your headboard.
chris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, getting drunk off the taste of you. he couldn’t get enough of your pussy, veined hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place. he forced you to ride his face until you screamed from his tongue and mouth, shaking and convulsing. he still didn’t stop though, but its not like you wanted him to.
your glazed over eyes found his lovestruck ones peering up at you as he slowly flicked his tongue into your dripping pussy, making your legs tremble at the sight. this was something you had fantasized about but never thought would come true, considering chris was your best friend and never indicated he had wanted anything more.
“o-oh my god, i’m cumming again.” you squealed, muscles tensing weakly as you orgasmed once again. he groaned into your cunt at the taste of your cum dribbling down into his mouth, your hips jerked in over-sensitivity as he continued his tongue movements with vigor.
“c-chris! i cant!” you whimpered, trying to pull off of him but his hands pulled your pussy back down towards his panting mouth, making you sob in overstimulation.
“stop moving. you’ll cum as many times as i say, alright?” he murmured, softly kissing your clit and making you flinch from the burning pleasure. it was borderline painful, but that just made you moan more and louder.
“h-hurts! oh fuck, feels so f-fucking good.” you cry out, your hips now subconsciously rocking against chris’ mouth, seeking out the scorching pain and pleasure he gives you over and over and over.
“you like sitting on my face, baby? my tongue in your pussy?” he lewdly asks while catching his breath, hands massaging your thick thighs that tighten around his head. jesus, he would happily live and die here on this bed, with you sitting on his face.
you mindlessly nod, small tears building in your waterline. your definitely disheveled, your hair is a mess, eyes half lidded, and mouth slightly parted.
he smacks his hand down on your thigh when you don’t answer, making you gasp. he could feel your cunt clench.
“answer me, y/n. or did i fuck you too stupid to speak?”
chris’ words only make you whine and move your hips, trying to get him to just continue even if you knew it would hurt to orgasm again. you wanted it.
he doesn’t comply. he starts to tease you, kissing and biting your inner thighs but not going to where you want him.
you groan in frustration, body trembling with need as your chest heaves with heavy breaths. your pussy clenches around nothing, and you know he can tell his teasing is affecting you by the smirk on his glistening lips.
“what is it, y/n? did i really fuck you stupid? use your words.”
you glare down at him as your pleasure fades away, but the constant throb of need is there. “chris.” you grumble, sighing as he kisses your thigh.
“there ya go, atta girl. now tell me what you want.” his voice is low and causing goosebumps to rise on your hot skin.
“i want you.” you whisper honestly, and you lock half lidded eyes with him. you both know you mean that in more ways than one, not just sexually.
chris’ adams apple bobs as he swallows and then smiles with relief and infatuation. “good. i want you too.”
“then hurry up, chris.” you whine, bringing your hips down in a desperate motion, “please fuck me.”
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(not proofread or edited)
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sinsofsummers · 11 months
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sensational; part ii
6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational
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summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)
You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.
Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.
He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.
Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:
Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.
It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.
You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.
It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.
"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.
This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.
No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.
But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.
"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.
Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.
So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.
Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.
"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"
The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.
It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.
Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."
You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.
Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.
After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.
The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.
It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.
It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.
With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.
For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.
In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?
But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.
Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?
"How'd you sleep?"
When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.
It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.
Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.
If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.
With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.
Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.
You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.
His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."
"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.
"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.
You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"
Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."
Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.
Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"
The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.
You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."
There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.
"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.
You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.
"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"
You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"
There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"
Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."
You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"
It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."
You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.
Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."
You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.
"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"
A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."
It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"
You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.
Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.
You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"
His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."
The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.
His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.
This was the worst possible outcome.
Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.
Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."
He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.
You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.
"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.
Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."
You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.
When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.
"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.
With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.
Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.
He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.
A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."
Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"
His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."
The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.
"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."
His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.
"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."
Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...
You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.
There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.
He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.
But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.
After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.
Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.
You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.
"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.
You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"
He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.
He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.
Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"
You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."
Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."
The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."
"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.
You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."
When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"
You nodded. "Show me? Please?"
Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"
You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"
"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."
An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."
Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.
"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.
He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."
It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.
Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."
So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?
Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.
Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.
Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.
Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.
You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.
Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."
"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.
His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"
You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.
Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."
His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."
"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"
He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."
You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"
He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"
You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.
Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."
It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.
"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."
You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"
"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.
"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.
"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.
Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.
One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."
He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."
You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.
"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"
You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.
It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."
"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."
He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"
"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.
Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"
Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."
It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.
He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."
With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.
The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."
A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."
Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."
Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.
"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."
You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"
He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.
"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."
"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."
You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."
tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!
3K notes · View notes
nachojaehyun · 15 days
Text
you give good love
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pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader
summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?
playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this
warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!
note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!
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“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”
soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.
“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”
“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.
“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.
“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”
“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”
“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”
your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.
“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”
with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.
as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.
이찬: oi
이찬: did you get the plane tickets?
with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.
you: ya, i will be coming.
you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.
your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.
you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.
your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”
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as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.
your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.
“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.
the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.
soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.
you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.
within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.
“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.
in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.
immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.
“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”
muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.
as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.
lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.
it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.
for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.
he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.
he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.
as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?
“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.
“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.
“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.
“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.
“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”
“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.
“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.
“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”
minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”
within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.
as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”
almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.
wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.
he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.
chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”
you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.
“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”
“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.
“its me.”
your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.
he knew what you were referring to.
back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.
you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.
yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.
you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.
“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”
you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.
“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.
god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—
“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.
dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.
you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.
“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.
“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”
with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.
not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”
with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”
“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.
chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.
how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.
“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.
“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.
chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”
before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.
“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”
chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”
“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”
“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.
but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.
with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.
what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?
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nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.
seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.
you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.
“so, how have you been? a long has passed since we spoke right?”
you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.
“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”
he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”
when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.
“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.
you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?
“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”
the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.
“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.
you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”
chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.
“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.
dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.
the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.
you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.
within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.
at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.
"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.
"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."
"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.
"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."
smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.
however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.
your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.
his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.
"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.
he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.
meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.
unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.
what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.
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the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.
every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.
everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.
chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.
jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”
as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”
the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.
the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.
“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.
questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.
as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.
“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.
“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.
“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”
“yeah, sure.”
“no repercussions?”
“no repercussions.”
with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”
seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.
“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”
with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.
as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.
lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.
why were you making this so hard for him?
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it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.
your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.
your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.
i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.
she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-
with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.
your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.
your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.
you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.
you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.
suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”
the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.
“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.
“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.
with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.
morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.
“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.
“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”
“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.
you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”
with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”
that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.
“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.
he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.
you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.
“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”
you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.
“f-fuck channie! i’m—”
before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.
“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.
his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.
your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.
“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.
as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.
“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”
you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.
steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.
this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.
his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.
its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”
one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.
chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.
dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.
you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.
without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.
“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.
the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.
“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.
when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.
a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.
“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.
with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.
your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.
“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.
“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.
dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.
he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”
“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.
in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.
you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.
your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.
your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.
“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.
you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.
lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.
“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.
“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.
he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”
“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.
“she had the same name as you.”
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© nachojaehyun, 2024
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Text
This post used to hold a poem inspired by the Rev. Munther Isaac's declaration that "God is under the rubble in Gaza."
After a few anons and a conversation with a Jewish friend, I've decided to take the poem down because, regardless of my own intentions with it, it risks feeding the long and extremely harmful history of blood libel, because I included imagery of the infant Jesus and his parents being killed by an Israeli soldier, as many Palestinians are being killed now.
Before talking with that friend, I wrote in this response to an anon about my intentions with the poem — but while I do believe that intentions do matter, they don't matter nearly as much as impact does.
My friend helped me come to the conclusion that while the poem I wrote could be interpreted as I intended by people who already have all the context I wrote it in (see below), it could also all too easily be interpreted much more harmfully by those who lack that context — or worse, who are looking for more fuel for their antisemitism. The poem is not worth that risk, not at all.
___
Ultimately, I hold two things I believe to be true in tension:
that Christians throughout the ages have found deep comfort and encouragement in understanding Jesus as suffering in and with them. I support all Christian Palestinians who, like Rev. Isaac, experience God-with-them in this way — in this horrific time, they deserve any ounce of comfort they can derive. And them personally seeking and finding the Divine presence with them is not antisemitic.
that for Christians like myself in the USA, who live in the beating heart of Empire and Christian Supremacy, it is vital to take care in how we talk about this theology in this current situation, where the oppressors are Jewish. Providing more fuel for Christian antisemitism is inexcusable, and I deeply apologize for writing and sharing a piece that can be used in that way.
Because modern-day Israel is a Jewish state, exploring that Divine solidarity in this context comes with a great risk of perpetuating the long, harmful history of antisemitic blood libel and accusations of deicide. How do we affirm God’s presence with those suffering in Palestine without (implicitly or explicitly) adding to the poisonous lie that “the Jews killed Jesus”?
In wrestling with this complexity, I tried to write this poem to uplift both Jesus’s Jewishness and his solidarity with Palestinians. Jesus was born into a Jewish family, his entire worldview was shaped by his Jewishness, and he shared in his people’s suffering under the Roman Empire. His solidarity with Palestinians of various faiths suffering today does not erase that Jewishness. Nor does it mean that Jewish persons don’t “belong” in the region — only that modern Israel’s occupation of Palestine is in no way necessary for Jews to live and thrive there, or anywhere else in the world.
I also aimed to point out that Israel is by no means acting alone in this attack on Gaza or their decades-long occupation of Palestine. There is a much larger Empire at work, with my own country, the United States, at the helm. Israel is entangled in that imperial mess, and directly backed and funded by those forces — not because of what politicians claim, that we have to back Israel or else we’re antisemitic, but because Israel is our strategic foothold in the so-called Middle East. How do we name our complicity as our tax dollars are funneled into violence across the world, and act to end that violence?
___
I'm sorry this post isn't as articulate as I want it to be. All of this to say: I deeply apologize for any hurt my poem caused. I understand how horrific Christianity's history of — and ongoing present — antisemitism is, and how it poisons and warps so much that could have been beautiful. I'll keep educating myself; I'll keep having hard conversations; I'll keep working to uproot antisemitism in myself and my communities.
___
I'll close with a list of resources for learning about Palestine's history and getting involved.
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starryylies · 4 months
Note
Could I have a jealous Simon riley, pleaseee. Angst is something I'd love, fluff or smut or both, your choice, thank youuuuu♡♡
Simon getting jealous :(
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Love the ask omgggg, I’m so sorry for replying late :((
It had been half an hour,
To be more specific,
Half an hour since he’s been violently bashing the chap talking to you (in his head ofc) :)) in the middle of your uni’s fair
You had begged Simon to come with you since you didn’t wanna go alone plus, you could finally show him off :)))
So how could he say no to your request, and hey maybe he would enjoy he thought
But Simon wasn’t enjoying one bit.
Not because of you,
All because a puny lil kid was flirting with you.
Ogling at you to be more precise
How could a kid like that even flirt with you under his presence.
He couldn’t take it anymore,
“Let’s go princess” he says as he hovers over you keeping a tight grip on your waist
“What but we just came” you retort
“Let’s go.” He says sternly keeping his grip on your waist while looking down at your ‘friend’
He felt fucking pathetic, what is he a teenager?
He felt like he had no right to be so possessive but seeing you with a younger much more lively guy made him feel a bit inferior.
Taking you by the wrist he walks you back to the car ignoring your complaints.
When you reach the car you snap,
“Si what the fuck was that” you say buckling your seatbelt
“He was all over you, the fuckin’ comments, the way he looked at you.” He replies in a harshly.
“No he wasn’t for fucks sake you think everyone is in love with me or something.”
“Fucking hell princess don’t act naive, you know guys look at you and for Pete’s sake it’s not the best feeling for me”
“That’s not true” you say defensively
“What you don’t believe it?”
“he was fucking ogling at ya, how fuckin blind could ya be” he says while inching closer to you.
You could feel his breath on your forehead as he came closer, pushing your back against your seat.
Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers trail your thighs while his lips are so close to yours.
God his eyes are beautiful, the way he looks at you. It makes you melt
“Love you don’t know how fucking beautiful are, the way guys look at you makes my skin crawl”
“Jesus love you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve set my eyes on so when I act like a fuckin prick deal with it please” his soft tone makes you want to melt into his touch,
You can see his veins protrude out from his neck as he says this
“ Seein’ ya happy with that chap wanted me to fucking drag you to the car and fuck your brains out until the only thing heard in this university is how you’re mine, my girl”
“You’re mine, all mine.” He says with a slight wince in his voice.
“Yes si, m yours and you don’t have to worry about any other guy i promise” you say gently while caressing his face.
As you both hold each other close, he pulls you closer to kiss you and put you on his lap while unbuckling your seatbelt
He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek as he caresses your body while unbuttoning your shirt to reveal your bra,
God he gets so hard just by looking at you,
The way you look, the way you smell, the colour of your eyes, your skin. Everything about you makes him feel like a teenager in love
And he will make sure to show you that while he ravages you in the front seat of his car :)
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penny00dreadful · 7 months
Text
Before He Cheats
AO3
“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.
“Is that really how you answer the phone?”
Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”
“Suppose.”
“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”
“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”
“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”
The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 
Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.
“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”
“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”
“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”
“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”
“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”
Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”
“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”
Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”
There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 
“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”
“How long?”
Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 
They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 
Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 
They’d never really felt all that funny.
Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 
They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 
More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.
Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 
But that was no excuse to cheat. 
At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 
“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”
“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 
If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.
Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.
Didn’t make him any less pissed.
“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 
But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.
“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”
Eddie pursed his lips. 
“Please hold.”
He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 
Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 
He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 
“Still there?”
“Yes. Ow, by the way.”
Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 
“Send it on.”
Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.
Well. 
Shit. 
There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 
Ugh.
Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 
@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair
Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.
It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.
God damn.
But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 
“Steve, is it?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.
Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”
“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”
Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.
Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 
That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.
He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 
He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 
It felt wrong.
Even though he was pretty much single now.
Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 
But fuck him. 
He’d find out.
One way or the other.
And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.
But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.
No tonight he would just… hurt.
And smoke.
A lot.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”
Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 
The screen had gone black.
“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”
Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”
“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”
Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”
“Oh-”
“How do you feel about a video call?”
A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.
“A video call is fine.”
“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 
He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 
He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 
Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.
Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 
He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.
Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.
He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 
Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.
He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 
He looked so soft. 
Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.
“Eddie?”
“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.
“You okay?”
He shrugged. “I will be.”
“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”
Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.
“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”
“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”
“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”
“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”
“Suppose not.”
“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”
Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.
“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”
“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 
Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 
“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.
“I am, I guess.”
Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 
That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.
“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”
“So we can both be sad and angry together.”
“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.
“We can be sad and angry together.”
Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.
“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”
Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 
“No.”
It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.
Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 
“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”
“Shut up.”
“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.
Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”
“Okay?”
“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”
“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”
Eddie nodded. 
That he could understand. 
“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”
“Woulda hurt me plenty.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”
“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”
“Just his decisions are bad.”
“Exactly.”
“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”
“To us, Stevie. To us.”
“Right, so what’s the plan then?”
“When are you due to see him next?”
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Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.
But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 
He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.
Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.
Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.
They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.
They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.
It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.
After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.
Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.
He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 
She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 
She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 
Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.
Again, adorable.
Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 
The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.
Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.
He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 
Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.
He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.
He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 
They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.
Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 
Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.
Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.
Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 
He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.
When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.
Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.
With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.
At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.
Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 
Rick knew fuck all about cars. 
Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.
Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.
A second Shania song had started up. 
He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 
He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 
He’d failed miserably. 
Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.
With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.
Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”
Okay, only a few seconds left.
Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.
The bat was fucking stuck.
Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.
“What the fuck?!”
Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.
To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 
But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 
Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.
“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.
“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.
Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 
Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.
With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 
They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.
He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”
As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.
When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.
Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.
AO3
@geekymagicalpotato
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter Eleven - Reunited (and it feels so good)
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
1.9K
Warnings: dick sucking, fucking, mentions of necklace lando (bc goddamn)
Series Masterlist
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It wasn't common for teammates to visit each other in the hospital after a crash. The McLaren team didn't expect it, didn't expect for Lando to rush straight to the hospital as soon as the race was done.
He went straight to her room, where she was laying on the hospital bed getting some well deserved rest. When Lando walked into the room, her eyes flew open. It must have been from the sound of his footsteps, he justified.
She sat up with a groan and looked at Lando. "Hey," she said, rubbing her eyes. "What're you doing here?"
"I had to come visit you, didn't I?" Lando said as he sat on the seat beside her bed.
Y/N let her head fall to the side as she looked at him. "Well, I appreciate it, Lan. But you don't have to stay here. You can go if you'd like," she said and patted the hand that sat on the bed.
But Lando wasn't going anywhere. When the doctor came to discharge her, Lando asked every question he could think of, acting like her boyfriend. When she was discharged (she had flu and slight dehydration, not enough for the doctors to keep her in), Lando walked out holding her things.
He had his arm around her. Keeping her up, he said. It didn't matter whether it was true or not, Lando didn't let go of her until they were back in her hotel room, packing her things.
Lando was supposed to leave Sunday evening, after the race. But he stuck around, waiting for Y/N to get out of the hospital. He was gonna take her home with him, take care of her once they were back at the apartment.
"You gave me a scare there," said Lando as he drover her back to the apartment. "For a minute I was scared you were pregnant."
Y/N ran her hands over her face. "Jesus, shit, Lando. We've used a condom almost every time! You over dramatic asshole." That last bit she muttered under her breath.
She climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. As exhausted as she was, she still marched away from him, making her way up to their apartment. Lando watched as she walked away from the car, disappearing through the door of the apartment complex.
She hid herself away in her room for the next few days, only emerging to make herself soup and tea. That was what kept her going, the irregularly timed bowls of soup and constant cups of fruity teas.
She wasn't avoiding Lando, wasn't exactly mad at him for being so dramatic, but she didn't want to get him sick. So, she stayed away.
She got worse before she got better, watched her favourite movies on repeat as she waited for her coughing and her sneezing to stop. Every day Lando knocked on her door with a cup of tea, which Y/N took gratefully. She didn't drink it, though. The gesture was incredibly sweet, but Lando couldn't make a decent cup of tea to save his life.
On the first day that she was feeling ever so slightly better, she was bored. And she missed Lando. She missed the feel of his body beneath hers, the way he gripped her hips as he moved her on top of him.
The box under her bed should have kept her company, but she was too sick for that. Plus, it just reminded her of the times that she and Lando spent together, using the items in said box.
She didn't emerge from her room until the second day that she was feeling better. Her throat was still tickling, but her nose wasn't running and she didn't feel like she needed a nap every time she so much as moved a muscle.
Y/N walked out of her room. She sat herself on the sofa, putting her feet up onto the coffee table, and turned on the television.
"Holy shit, you're alive," said Lando as he emerged from his own room.
Y/N cleared her throat and adjusted herself in her seat. "Lovely to see you too, Lan," she muttered, her head turned to the side to look at him. "You want to watch Star Wars with me? Meet your namesake?"
"I was not named after Star Wars Lando," he insisted as though they'd had this conversation several times before.
"His name is Lando Calrissian, you should know that."
For all of his protesting, Lando sat beside her anyway. He copied her pose, placed his feet up on the coffee table (knocking one foot into hers), and opened his arm, letting her tuck herself into his side.
"When do we meet Lando?" He asked, his fingertips playing with the ends of her hair.
She smirked at that. "Oh, in the next movie," she said quietly, taking his other hand and playing with his fingertips.
Lando went to stand up, but she clamped her fingers around his wrist. "Nope, Lan, you're going to stay here and you're going to like it."
So, he stayed. Not because he was sucked into the science fiction movie from the seventies that his roommate seemed to love, but because she wanted him there. As long as she wanted him, he wasn't going anywhere.
On the third day, Y/N was feeling right as rain.
In her hoodie and shorts (with lingerie beneath), she knocked on Lando's bedroom door. "Lando Norrissian! I'm feeling better and I want to get freaky!"
She pushed open the door.
Sat in his gaming chair in his best pants, Lando smirked as she walked into the room. She strode over to him, throwing off her hoodie as she did so. "Fuck me, Lan," she began (which he quietly replied to). "I've been looking forward to this since the last Grand Prix.
She got to her knees, blinking up at him as she touched him through his pants. "Has little Lando missed me too?" She asked, running her tongue along her bottom lip.
"Don't call him that," Lando muttered, but he was hard beneath her touch.
She pushed down his boxers allowing him to spring free. "Missed you too, buddy," she whispered and kissed the head of his cock.
Lando couldn't reply. He simply moaned and bucked his hips up. Y/N kept a hold of him, keeping him still as she took him into her mouth. It wasn't the easiest, considering she was still recovering from the flu, but she still sucked him. Not pushing herself too hard, her gag reflex couldn't handle that for the time being.
Lando's fingers knotted through her hair, holding her tightly. He wasn't directing her or forcing her down onto his cock, letting her control the pace. He just wanted something to hold.
Just once did Y/N take him all the way in. She sucked his head before pushing all the way down, until her nose made contact with his navel. But she quickly pulled away from him, took some time to recover before she started again.
As she swirled her tongue along his head, she moved her hand up and down his shaft. Lando's eyes were shut as he moaned and tugged on her hair. Clearly, he was enjoying it. "Fuck, Y/N," he cried, the muscles in his neck straining.
She pulled off of him. "Your turn?" Offered Lando, but she shook her head as she ran to his bedside table.
"If your not inside of me in the next thirty seconds we will be having problems," she said as she pulled out a condom and immediately tore the packaging.
They'd gotten good at putting on Condoms since they moved in together. No longer did they have that awkward struggle of working out which way was the right way. She kneeled in front of him again as she rolled it onto his dick, stood up and jumped on the bed, spread eagle.
Someone was eager, that much was clear.
Lando grinned as he got out of his gaming chair. He pushed his boxers to his feet and stepped out of them. "Hurry up, Lan," she whined.
Lando pulled off her panties. He climbed on top of her and leaned down to kiss her. She could wait if it meant a moment of intimacy. She accepted though, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close as to not let him again away. "Fuck, I've missed you," she whispered, her eyes shut.
Lando pulled away. He held himself as he pushed forward, gently pushing through her folds. Somehow it felt like the first time all over again. She arched her back as he continued to push forward, until he was fully sheathed inside of her.
"Fuck me," she whispered, unable to hold herself back.
Even when inside of her, Lando was still a cocky little shit. "I'm trying," he muttered through a grin as he snapped his hips forward.
As if on instinct, she wrapped her legs around him, hands on his shoulders as he fucked her. Lando had his hands on either side of her head, looming over her as he moved. His breaths were coming out in short puffs, a sheen of sweat appearing on his skin.
There was no better sight than Lando above her, she decided. If she died now, she'd die happy, the image of Lando thrusting into her forever burned into her memory.
Lando used his strong arm to prop himself up on one hand. The other travelled down, touching her body. His fingertips against her stomach had her gasping, but they kept travelling down, until they were nestled between her folds, touching her clit.
It was quite a skill he had, to fuck her like that while he was touching her. It had her moaning and writhing, oh so close to the edge. "Please, please, please," she cried over and over again as Lando grew faster.
Her walls were clenching around him, squeezing him in a delicious way. He felt her let go, maybe before she did. She cried out once more, her body tensing up, her nails raking down his back, leaving red marks as she came.
Lando kept going. Her nails against his back stung, but he loved it. He'd wear those marks forever, if he could.
Lando's thrusts grew sloppy. His grunts grew louder until he finally stopped, spilling his seed inside of the condom.
Swiftly he pulled out and disposed of it, throwing it away in the bin in his bedroom. Breathlessly, Y/N sat up, propped up by her elbows. "Holy fucking shit, Lando Norris. That was..."
"I'd missed you too," Lando answered as he sat on the end of the bed. He went to say something else, but he hesitated. Y/N didn't notice, though, too distracted by the marks she had left on his back. "Do... do you wanna take a bath with me?" He asked.
Still dressed in nothing, the two of them walked to the bathroom. Lando kept his arm around her as he did so. He sat her on top of the closed toilet lid and set about running the bath water. "You know, if you threw in a necklace, you'd look so fucking hot, Lan," she mumbled, leaning her head against the wall.
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ghouljams · 10 months
Note
can we get medieval slow burn crumbs pls 🤲🙏
I have had this idea with Knight Ghost bouncing around in my head since I saw an absolutely destructive to my psyche insta reel, so here it is
Ghost helps you get his mail shirt over your head, far too big and far too heavy for you to practically wear, but he's insistent. You try not to tense your shoulders at the weight of it, try not to buckle your knees when it drops into place. You knew knights were strong but to wear this every day without so much as a complaint? Plus the rest of the armor? Your eyes roam over Ghost's broad shoulders as he turns away from you to fuss with the rest of his armor. You always thought he'd look smaller without all the metal, but it almost feels like the opposite it true.
He's larger than life. Life being the operative word here. A living breathing man of flesh and blood, and greater warmth than the fire. His linen shirt pulls tight across his shoulders, revealing the firm musculature as he moves. You grab the mail shirt in your tightening fists, feel the well worked metal press its indents into your skin, still so warm from being on Ghost. You want to touch him. You won't, you're not supposed to. Not supposed to want to. You think that's what the armor is for, to keep you from thinking the man underneath is human, to keep you from wanting him.
"You alright Princess?" He asks, his voice is so low and rasping it makes you want to melt, "Thought you'd be complaining about the weight by-" He turns to look at you again, and his voice falls another impossible degree, "-now. Jesus." His eyes drag over you, fresh kindling for the fire in your stomach, the heat in your cheeks.
You must look silly in your dress and his chain mail, but the way he looks at you... God, the way he looks at you. Not even at your best dressed has a man looked at you like that. You swallow, and hold onto the mail rings a little tighter.
"It's heavy," You tell him, and although you mean it to sound like a complaint, to whine and put on the spoiled princess act that keeps all the other men away, you find your voice quiet almost reverent. Ghost nods, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. The only man in the kingdom with the impertinence not to look away, not to bow his head to your gaze.
"It'll keep you safe," He barely breathes, his eyes don't leave you, can't leave you. There's no where safer to look than your face, and no where more dangerous.
"You're doing a more than suitable job of that already," You know that twitch in his brow, the way his lips draw thin.
You remember the bandits that had ambushed your carriage, the way they're battered their daggers against your door, made slow battle with your guards. How they'd dragged you out of your safety kicking and screaming with harsh laughter. How Ghost's blade had torn through them like paper, his eyes red with fury. The physical shield he'd put between you and your assailants, the sound their swords had made bouncing off his armor was still ringing through your ears. Blood still soaked the hem of your dress.
"I'm not taking any chances," His eyes leave yours, turning his attention back to his armor. It's like having cold water thrown over your head. With you, you think, he's not taking any chances with you. "Can you move at all?" He asks, not looking at you, it feels purposeful. You hesitate, before testing the weight over your arms, hopping to feel the drag of the chain try to pull you down. You shake you head.
"Not much, I don't think I'll be swinging a sword anytime soon." He chuckles, and the heat returns to you, your heart clenching tight in your chest.
"That's good," He nods, "Violence doesn't suit you."
You wish it did, sometimes. You've begged him enough to at least show you how to properly hold a sword, but he always refuses. Always tells you, your future husband won't want your glaring to hold real threats. As if your gaze doesn't already bear his shadow, doesn't command Ghost to act as your sword. Wouldn't he come with you, to wherever you did marry? You couldn't stand to be apart from him.
Ghost lifts you up onto his horse with a quiet grunt of effort. "We'll have to take more rests, she's a strong horse but with two of us..." He shakes his head, pets a hand down the horse's neck. "Do you think you can stomach a few extra days of travel, my lady?" His hand lingers on your dress. His lady, you think, he never shortens the words like the others do.
"Of course, I'm hardly one to complain," for you, you tack on silently.
"Of course not," for me, he seems to agree.
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tikkunolamresistance · 3 months
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Purim isn't for Jew haters. Did you miss the part of the Megillah where the Jews fought back against the people seeking to kill Jews, and we killed them in triumph? Delete your blog.
Good thing we’re not Jew haters! No, we didn’t miss that part actually. I think it should greatly inspire us to destroy the facist Zionist ideology that’s puppeteered by Christian Zionists! Those people who want us in Israel to trigger the rapture, which will force Jews to convert to Christianity, killing those who wont.
The Rapture (belief that living & dead believers will ascend into heaven to meet Jesus Christ at the Second Coming) is a generally agreed upon aspect of the Second Coming. “Dispensationalists deem this phase “the time of Jacob’s trouble,” in which [at least] one-third of Jews convert to Christianity & are saved accordingly, while the majority are killed.” Remember: “Among Christian Zionists the belief is common that Jews will not be saved due simply to their status as God’s chosen people within Old Testament prophecy. Conversion is considered... necessary for Jews to be a part of Christ’s reign on earth.” After the Rapture, there will be a seven-year period of global turmoil marked by natural disasters, wars, & oppressive regimes. Afterward, Jesus will return with his true believers to establish a thousand-year reign, during which Jerusalem will be the world's capital. Palestinians & Jews are canon fodder; collateral damage; merely pawns to move into position in order to summon Jesus. Dead or alive. [Taken from this wonderful write up on Christian Zionism and it’s antisemitism]
We are being convinced that the State of Israel is our “only safe place”, that we have nowhere else, so that Christian Zionists can feed their delusions, or biblical prophecies. We are pawns in their game, and we must resist, we must aid Palestinian resistance.
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