#but like whats happening is that all the fat that i guess is supposed to be getting more evenly distributed is evacuating the ribcage area

[talkorsomething]

realizing i am just a weeeeird shape

[mv1simp]

my constant thought about max is him and virgin reader where r is saving herself for marriage and for her husband but max convinces her that doing anal means she’ll stay a virgin <33

Anon YOU EVEN MADE ME BLUSHH 🤭🤭🤭 do u know how hard that is. got me kickin and gigglin an shit, here u go u filthy animal keep the requests coming 🫶

Low Life ♥️

Max Verstappen x Horner! Reader

I been on the molly and ‘em xans with your daughter, if she catch me cheatin’ I won’t ever tell her sorry

Mad Max is back in full force with the poor Redbull strategy this season - and his boss, Christian Horner, doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it. Guess Max will just have to find some other way to get his revenge and relieve his stress…starting with his boss’s precious, spoiled daughter.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin!reader, who’s also a spoiled brat lol, dark! Max, blackmail, coercion, filming, VERY dubcon, anal, size kink, dom/sub, bimbofication, religious themes, EVERYTIME I WRITE A DARK MAX FIC IT KEEPS GETTING MORE NASTY GODDAMN, 5.2k WC

To say Max was pent up with rage would be an understatement. After dedicating himself tirelessly and dominating the track since his debut, the Redbull team had disappointed him this season with their pisspoor car and even poorer strategy. And to top it off, his boss was now making comments to the media about how he needed to spend less time on the sim rig the night before a race, making Max scoff. As if Horner knew more about winning a race than a 3 time world champion, Max thought angrily, yanking off his helmet as he stormed straight to his boss's office to give him a piece of his mind after another disappointing P3 finish.

Horner was having none of it, though, telling Max some bullshit about how the team needed to have a united front blah blah blah. Max has already tuned him out, cause what the fuck does he mean the team - he was the one bringing home the results every weekend, and anyone who tried to say otherwise just needed to look at the track record of Max completely dominating his teammates in equal machinery. God, he hadn’t gotten this mad in a long time, so he excuses himself rudely as he can tell he’s about to wreck something if he has to hear another one of Horner’s excuses. He wrenches open the office door just to have you stumble straight into his firm chest as you try to enter it.

You, Christian’s Horner’s daughter from his first wedding, freshly graduated from some private all girls college. He’d met you 3 months ago while you were trotting about like the spoiled little brat you undoubtedly were. No job, just using your degree as decor while you used your daddy’s fame to find yourself a rich man to spread your legs for, he had speculated, knowing just your type.

And it irritated him to no end that you looked the picture of innocence, an angelic figure in your white minidress and kitten heels and wide doe eyes, with a matching purity ring and all - even though your pretty tits and fat ass were openly ogled by many a male staff member. Max himself had to readjust his pants a few times when he’d seen you bend over.

He’d assumed you’d try to sink your gold digging claws into him soon enough, wanting some of his multimillionaire status for yourself, but you’d surprised him by skittishly avoiding him, almost looking a little scared, which he found amusing. He supposed he did dwarf your 5 foot frame though, and you had all the aura of a sweet little lamb compared to the Dutch lion. You’d surprised him again last month, when you’d introduced your dad to your pick of a first boyfriend - Tim, a docile looking, short guy who was a lowly new hire in the F4 reserve category. Too far down in the rankings to do any real benefit to your status. Conveniently, though, Tim’s father happened to own a software development app that was currently in the process of a $3 million acquisition deal. Chump change to someone like Max, but like he said, he knew your type, didn’t he?

But he’d been most surprised when he’d overheard moaning one night when he’d stayed late in the garage - and had pervily gone to investigate down the abandoned hallway and into one of the empty rooms - only to get an instant hard on at the sight of you on your knees, dress pulled down to your waist and those delicious tits out on display. So entranced by the angelic vision, Max hadn’t even noticed your loser boyfriend - till a scowl appeared on your pretty face as Tim furiously jerked his tiny dick off in front of you. He was panting and whining, sweat running down his face as he pathetically begged please, please can i touch your boobs-

You were no scared little lamb now as you snapped at him viciously. No! I told you, only looking and no touching! I promised daddy I would stay pure for my husband- Eww! Oh my god, what is that?

You’d been cut off as your boyfriend came, his small, clear load weakly spurting past his fist so that only a couple of drops landed on your caramel skin. Max had thought you’d been lying about the purity bullshit, just wanting an excuse to avoid Tim’s touch - but his eyes narrowed at your look of disgust at your boyfriend’s dick, and the genuinely puzzled expression on your face as you tried to figure out what the clear fluid that landed on you was - making the impressive semi he still rocked twitch, despite your pathetic boyfriend ruining his show. Interesting, you were still a virgin, huh?

Sure, you’d piqued his interest then, but he ignored you now as you stumble back from his hard chest, wide brown doe eyes blinking up at him. He’s still furious with Horner and starts to move past you but your aggravating father perks up, asking if you could show Max where his new drivers' room was in the refurbished wing, so that he could cool down and destress in peace after today’s race. Of course, daddy, you responded sweetly, making Max’s cock stir. He eyed you doubtfully as you lead the way. You had to know what you were doing, a grown woman using that word, right? But then again, he’d seen you call Horner by that title in a team wide press conference, making GP choke on his water next to him - so maybe not.

His anger hadn’t dissipated one bit as you approached his room, in a much more secluded area of the new wing for him to “cool down” as Horner had passively aggressively suggested. Still clearly nervous in his presence, you accidentally dropped the key you’d fished out. As you bent over to collect them, your miniskirt rose up, revealing your juicy ass peeking past your white cotton panties. Oh, he’d found the perfect way to get back at his boss, Max thought devilishly.

As you unlocked the door, he stepped in behind you, giving you no choice but to stumble inside - and then he’d casually stopped in front of the door to block your exit. You nervously twirled your keycard in your fingers, shuffling side to side.

Why don’t you sit down, he offered, we should get to know each other, yeah? You still looked like you wanted to bolt any second, but at Max’s authoritative tone you gingerly sat down on the plush couch.

He started with some generic bullshit about how he’d seen you around, you were his boss’s daughter after all, and as Horner’s best driver he should be on good terms with you too, no?

You relaxed, now looking up to meet his eyes and smiling brightly, pleased that the great Max Verstappen had come to seek your favour. You start saying that it was nice to meet him too, you’d heard lots about him, he was such an incredible driver-

You hadn’t noticed Max discreetly locking the door behind him. Stepping forward, he responded neutrally to your excited questions as he casually strips off his top layer, leaving him shirtless.

You abruptly stop talking, going pink in the face, and he asks what’s wrong, I’m just getting changed, are you a virgin or something? His mocking tone makes it clear that he still didn’t quite believe you were one. When you don’t reply, he gently lifts your face up with his large hand. And as your eyes shyly rise up to meet his, desperately avoiding looking at his broad, toned abs, there’s no faking the genuine innocence in them. I am, you stutter out. A virgin, I mean. I made a promise to daddy to wait till marriage.

You twirl your promise ring around anxiously as you say it. Max didn’t know what kind of sick brainwashing Horner had been subjecting his daughter too, but he fully intended to use it to his advantage. Really? He says slyly. Does your daddy know you let your little boyfriend jerk off on your tits?

You gasp, then glare as you demanded to know how he knew that, had he been watching, that was soo creepy and gross -

There’s the bratty angel he knew had been hiding. He cuts you off, confirming that yes, he’d been watching - but you’d been the dirty girl who seduced her innocent boyfriend in the garage for just anyone to see, hadn’t you?

You’d look outraged at his statements, but he reminded you of the power he had when he nonchalantly mentioned that he hadn’t planned on telling your father, but now that he knew about the promise you had made - well, it was his duty to let Horner know what kind of naughty things you’d been doing behind his back, right?

That had wiped the bratty glare right off your face, instead making you wide eyed and tremble with fear at the thought of your daddy finding out. You begged Max to keep your secret. Please don’t tell him, he would die, you'd do anything to stop him knowing!

Jackpot. Smirking darkly, Max pretended to consider your option before saying that he supposed he could keep it to himself if you helped him destress and relax like your father had sent you here to do, okay?

You nodded eagerly, looking up at him with those innocent doe eyes as he stepped right in front of you, watching you predatorily. His thick fingers brush along your pink lips, and his eyes darken as you instinctively take them into your mouth, sucking sweetly. Oh, you were going to be such a sweet little angel for him, he just knew it.

Within seconds he had you dropping your dress down to your waist, exposing those lush, pretty tits of yours. You blushed when he stared hungrily and ordered you to play with them, and at first you obliged and gently squeezed them, but then stopped to brattily ask just how this was supposed to help destress him, was he just being pervy again?

Great point, he said, and sat down next to you to easily lift you into his lap, taking over and roughly palming your tits. N-no touching! You had squealed, desperately trying to escape his strong arms. Rolling his eyes, he forced you back against him, explaining that it was okay, you knew that it didn’t count if it was to help him destress, right? And besides, nothing would affect your promise to your daddy except a man’s cock actually entering your precious virgin hole-

Okay! You had said frantically to put a stop to his explicit words, face flushed. Okay, if you promise it doesn’t count, I’ll still be a virgin, right?

God, it was so cute how naive you were. You hadn’t even realised that if what Max was saying was true then there was nothing illicit with what you and Tim had done - and Max had nothing to hold over you. Right, Angel, Max promised, enjoying the dazed look you gave him at the nickname as he squeezed your tits, bending down to take a pretty nipple into his mouth. It doesn’t count.

And that was how Max had his boss’s innocent little daughter wrapped around his fingers, ready to do whatever he asked of her, as long as he kept your secret. It was such a rush, having his way with you right under your father’s nose, being able to punish you for his crimes and ruining you more and more each time Horner pissed him off - and oh, did he piss Max off constantly.

So the next race, he’d had you fully strip for him, and yes, even those cute panties, Angel, when you’d whined, embarrassed from his intense gaze. You’d bit your lip and slid them off, obediently spreading your legs and gently playing with yourself like he’d asked, using unfamiliar movements. Soon enough you’d become accustomed to Max’s hungry stares at your innocent parts and began thrusting your tiny fingers inside your virgin cunny, because it had started to feel sooo good and soo tingly down there, and you’d never felt like that before.

You’d become distracted, closing your eyes from the sensation and when you opened them you shrieked, because Max was now standing right above you, greedily looking down at your petite form as he stroked his own private parts - called a cock, he’d made you repeat. He’d also warned you never to scream again in his room, or he’d gag you next time and tell your dad about Tim. You pouted, nodding obediently, but whining that you got scared Maxie, why was it so big, so angry, was it going to hurt you?

Of course not, Angel he’d reassured at the next race again, this time making you sit next to him, naked except for your kitten heels and a lacy blue thong he’d had delivered to your house - your father as clueless as ever when he handed the package over to you. It won’t hurt you, he promised, but it's very hard from stress and needs you to help drain it, okay?

He’d guided you to his large cock, smirking evilly as you struggled to grip him even with two hands. He moved one large hand over both of yours, showing you how to jerk him off the way he liked. You’d picked it up very quickly, innocently asking him why Tim's cock was so much tinier that his. Cause, Angel, I'm just a better man than he is, he had said with a chuckle. Oh, you had said, then - I hope my husband is a good man then, and has a big cock like you.

Oh, Jesus. Max was definitely going to hell after this. Feeling his peak approaching, he ordered you onto your knees, making you hold your tits up - and then proceeded to cover them with his thick, creamy release, so much of it that it dripped down onto your stomach - and much more than the time you had seen Tim’s cock explode. You’d almost screamed again but bit your tongue at the last minute, remembering Max’s threat last time. But it didn’t stop you from glaring up at him, brattily asking what this gross stuff was, eww, you didn’t want it on you-

That’s fine, Max had said cooly. That’s fine, because next time he'd make you drink it all instead. Your eyes went wide at that, tears forming and you adamantly denied Max, saying you’d never do something like that, it sounded pervy and dirty.

But your reluctance meant nothing to Max, as he smirked at you from your fathers side the next day, whispering something in his ear that had your daddy looking over at you and an icy chill running down your back. You were petrified as you got a text from your father to come see him in his office now, walking in on the verge of tears only to have him smile delightedly at you because Max mentioned you’d been very supportive of his races lately, it’s been a big reason why he’s so much more of a team player these days, so proud of you for helping the team, sweetie!

You’d accepted his praise, blushing from the attention, and later had dutifully wandered back to Max’s room to greet him after the race. He smirked at finding you there, already naked except for a pink lacey thong and heels, on your knees for him, shyly thanking him for keeping your secret and saying such nice things to your daddy. Of course, Angel, he murmured, unzipping himself. You know just how to say thank you then, hmm? And you obediently nodded, jerking him off like he’d taught you, then licking and sucking on his cock when he asked, and then taking all of his length inside your eager throat at his command, gagging the whole way as he tutted disapprovingly at you, taking over and controlling the pace with his large hands. It had really hurt your tiny mouth, and you couldn’t speak properly afterwards, but seeing Maxie swear and tell you how good you were doing, how he never wanted to let you go, made that tingly feeling come back in between your legs again. Instead of ignoring it like you normally did, this time you couldn't resist fingering yourself, thong pushed the side as you shoved your fingers inside your wet cunny.

Maxie had gone breathless seeing that, and then he tensed before you felt his warm, sticky thick cum fill your mouth. You swallowed every drop, opening your mouth afterwords for him to inspect. Good girl, he said, patting your head. My sweet angel, you drained my stress so well. Oh, so that’s what it was, you say innocently. I’m glad I made you feel better, Maxie.

After that, there were no races for a whole month as the paddock went into summer break. You had thought you’d be glad for the relief from Maxie and his mean demands, but you found yourself texting him often, missing his loving kisses and touches after you helped relieve his stress, missing the tingly feeling you got when he looked predatorily at you spread open for him.

You’d been shocked when you opened your eyes as a shadow had blocked out the sun while you were sunbathing at your family’s St Tropez holiday home, only to find Max grinning down at you, saying your dad had invited him to come for the week. Had you been doing your homework? You nodded diligently, looking at the banana you’d been practising swallowing whole without gagging to copy the dirty video Max had texted you of a petite woman eagerly sucking a very big cock - he must be a good man, you’d thought, just like your Maxie.

Secretly, you were so glad he was here, shooting him looks over the dinner table as he sung praises about what a good friend you’d been to him, helping him get back to P1, making your daddy proudly pat your head. And after dinner when everyone had gone to bed, he joined you in the hot tub to unwind. You’d excitedly begun to tell him about what you had been upto on the break when you felt his thick fingers creeping up the inside of your thighs. You’d frozen instantly, because Maxie had never touched you there himself, but before you could say anything your father stepped out onto the veranda, asking you something about your plans for the next day.

Answer him, Max mouthed, smirking as you had no choice but to let him keep gliding up your legs and undoing your tiny bikini. And when your daddy had gone back inside, oblivious that the flush on your face wasn’t from the heat of the pool, you’d tried to shove Max’s hand away, brattily saying you didn’t want his hand near your private parts, that was just for your husband-

Doesn’t count, Angel, Max had cooed, easily overpowering you and sliding a finger in, much thicker and longer than yours and making you squeal as he started pumping it in and out of you. And he hadn’t stopped despite your half hearted protests, because you’d started to feel really good, really tingly, and Maxie, I feel funny, I think I’m going to pee-

After you had your first orgasm, he carried your tired figure back into the house, setting you down and licking your cum off his fingers. And then, through your half asleep state, you felt his tongue swirling around your nipples, leaving hickeys and then trailing down, and down before his warm breath gently blew over your puffy cunny. And then you felt his wide tongue licking your folds, making you gasp awake and squeal cause why was he kissing you down there, that’s so pervy-

But he’d easily bullied you back into quiet muffled moans again, your skimpy bikini bottoms shoved inside your mouth as he warned you that your father was going to wake up right next door and come investigate if you didn’t shut up. So you reluctantly let him continue his filthy kissing, spitting and licking on your most innocent parts until you felt you had to pee again. He grinned wickedly as you squirted a second time, completely ruining the sheets, before redressing your passed out figure in a comfy hoodie. You felt the ghost of a sweet kiss on your forehead before he walked away.

You avoided him the next few days, glaring when he would approach you, angry he’d kissed you somewhere only your husband should. He’d promised you were still a virgin, sure, but still! It was just too much, wasn’t it?

But you’d been unable to resist his advances any longer when he’d cornered you in the family study one day when everyone else had gone out to the markets. He’d sweetly apologised, presenting you with a new Dior bag he’d had speed delivered that morning, and you happily snatched it up, gasping with delight as you look inside to find a Cartier bracelet. You’ll forgive me, right, Angel? Max had said, slowly wrapping his arms around you from behind and rubbing his practically blue balls against your plush ass as you distractedly admire your new gifts. I just wanted to make you feel good, hmm?

You nodded breathlessly, agreeing that you supposed it had felt really good, you liked that tingly feeling in between your legs. Yeah? Max had grinned, kissing you and slipping his tongue inside and saying that he knew a way to make you feel even better, Angel, and you’d still be a virgin after it, he pinky promises, okay?

With the new Dior bag and diamond bracelet you’d become a lot more agreeable, and didn’t protest as he laid you back on your father’s study table, lifting your miniskirt over your hips and grinning wickedly when he found no panties - just your glistening pussy. Y-you always just rip them anyways, Maxie you pouted.

Oh, you secretly wanted this, didn’t you? Acting all bratty just cause you wanted to make him work for it, he was certain. Your sweet body was such a good plaything for him that he didn’t really mind, deciding not to punish you for avoiding him.

You curiously watch as he unzips himself, taking his thick cock out, then you squeal adamantly in protest when he brings it close to your innocent hole. Shh, Angel, it’s just on the outside, he’d promised, I won’t put it in, it’ll feel so good, trust me.

And it had felt sooo good, making you bite your lip and toss your head back as he dragged his warm length along your folds, slapping your clit a few times with his cockhead, making you spread your soft legs invitingly as you felt the addictive tingly feeling come back again.

He’d been unable to resist the temptation, sliding just the tip into your virgin cunny- but you’d immediately screamed in protest, twisting away and he had generously released you from his hold, tongue in cheek as you sashayed away with a backwards glare, Dior bag in hand. He’d had to leave the next day, and you didn’t see him the rest of the break.

After the break, you had seemed different to Max. You carried the brattiness openly in your eyes, confident now in your ability to seduce him as he has brought such expensive apology gifts just for a little taste of your virginity.

You had infuriatingly said no when he tried to rub himself against your cunny at the next race, and at the one after that, so here he was, stuck fingering you and sliding his tongue in and out of your folds for the 3rd time this week while his cock ached to be buried inside you - when the wicked idea came to him.

He’d made sure to have all the preparations ready for the next race, knowing you would be a brat and try to weasel your way out of it. Like he’d predicted, you make your way to his plush sofa, spreading your legs to show off your naked pussy and demanding he come kiss it how you liked.

Oh, his Angel had become quite the spoilt little bitch, hasn’t she? He’d have to make sure you learned your lesson about who was in charge around here. You smirk as he drags his tongue up and down your puffy folds, thinking you had the millionaire driver all wrapped around your fingers. His thick third and ring fingers join his tongue, making you moan and close your eyes as he pumps them into your pussy. And then, his thumb drops down, lower, to circle your other winking hole before sliding inside.

You’d jumped in shock, naively asking why he was touching your dirty hole, that’s so embarrassing, you don’t want him to touch that place!

Max cooes that he couldn’t care less, besides, he can clean it out for you, yeah? If he just slides his cock in, just a little bit, he can make sure it’s all clean for you.

Your eyes go impossibly wide at the thought of his big cock anywhere near your ass. You furiously close your legs, brattily telling him that you’d had enough, wasn’t he just being a pervert now, and you’d already broken up with Tim ages ago and since Max seemed to be very relaxed now given his P1s has resumed you didn’t think you needed to help him out anymore!

Time to pull out the big guns. Sitting back on the sofa now, Max palms his growing erection as he calls out to you, making you pause from where your hand rested on the doorknob.

You know, Angel, I’ve had a lot of creepy fans sneak onto the garage lately. Some even got into my room. I guess they just really wanted to see me shirtless, huh?

You turn around to look at him, confused, until your eyes slowly widen in horror as he points to the camera tucked in the corner. There’s no trace of sympathy on his handsome face as he starts lazily jerking himself off, telling you that it had been your fathers idea to set it up, for his safety, and he’d even kindly offered to go through all the footage later - he took any threats against his prized driver very seriously.

You panicked, already teary eyed at the thought of your father seeing you spreading your legs sluttily and demanding Max pleasure you. You immediately dropped to your knees, begging Max to keep the tape himself-

Now why would I do that, Angel? Max cooes, getting harder at the sight of you kneeling in front of him and crying for his help. After all, you’re the one who’s forcing him to kiss her pussy on that video, hmm?

He knows he has you right where he wants you as you beg him, offering up your precious pussy to slide against again if he wanted, just don’t go inside, okay?

That’s not the hole he wants, Angel, he told you darkly. No - he wanted your other hole, the dirty embarrassing one, and he wants to sink his entire cock inside it.

He watches you stutter and gasp, before you take a deep breath and naively ask My husband won’t be able to tell, right Maxie? I’ll still be a virgin?

Max smirks. Of course, Angel. You know he’d never break your precious promise. And with that, you’re ready to become his obedient pet again, blankly turning around and sticking your ass up in the air like he asks, spreading your cheeks for him to look at.

And oh, Max takes his sweet time looking, enjoying the twisted satisfaction of having completely broken you down like this. He generously douses you in lube, making you squeal at the chill, before he’s furiously pumping his thumb inside your impossibly tight back hole. You tremble as he lines his cock up, ordered you to relax or it’ll hurt, Angel. Slowly sinking inside, he moans as he finally finds his way into your heat, feeling like he’s reached heaven. Tears stream down your face as you wail once he begins meanly thrusting, wickedly taking your anal virginity all for himself and giving you his fingers to suckle on and keep quiet.

He doesn’t stop until he’s finished inside you, panting heavily and pushing his matted hair out of his eyes, pressing kisses down your spine to let you know you did so well for him.

He pulls out with a wet squelch, enjoying the sight of his cum dripping out of your poor, abused little hole. Sitting back comfortably on the sofa, legs spread, he gives you a cocky smirk as you turn around, still seated on the ground in front of him.

Now clean it up, he demands meanly. He can’t have your hole make his cock dirty now, can he? And you obediently responded, crawling forward with glazed eyes, licking him clean from balls to tip like he’s trained you to do.

After that night, Max had held you completely in the palm of his hand. You’d be the perfect angel for him, doing whatever he wanted wherever he wanted - except for entering your innocent pussy, of course. He’d let you keep it yours for now, finding the fantasy hot. He’d buy you a diamond ring one of these days, he mused, so that you’d beg him to finally claim your virginity.

But for now, he had a couple other tricks to try out. And if you’d try to refuse, he’ll pull up the video he has on his phone of your eyes rolling back as Max ate you out on your father’s work desk from summer break.

He’d taken you back to his hotel room to teach you those tricks, making you wail and scream his name without restriction, headboard banging against the wall. It was hilarious when Horner had come upto him at breakfast the next morning, patting his back and saying it sounded like he’d been celebrating his win very well last night, congratulations, he deserves it and sounded like the girl couldn’t get enough!

Max had to hold back his laughter, as your clueless father had no idea he was carrying an extra croissant up for the very same girl who couldn’t get enough - his precious little daughter, who still lay sleeping in his hotel bed, exhausted from his dirty activities all night.

You’d ended up missing your flight back, making some weak excuse to your daddy and had followed Max into his private jet, obediently spreading yourself open for him as he pulled you behind the privacy screen. The flight attendants had blushed as they heard your eager moans and the lewd sounds of Max greedily fucking your ass again.

And when you landed, greeting your waiting family, Max had to discreetly wipe the line of cum that trickled down your skirt. You didn’t have to worry, though, he’d already thoughtfully ordered another delivery of sexy underwear straight to your home 🖤

—————————————————————————

A/N: I actually gave myself post nut clarity writing this (post writing smut clarity?? Post smut conscience??) time to go outside and reconnect with nature. As always,,,lmk what u think 🤔

[actuallysaiyan]

You're Mine(Enji Todoroki x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, swearing, unprotected sex, Love quirk/Sex pollen trope, sort of dub con, Rei and Enji are divorced in this, slight age gap, oral sex(male receiving)

word count: 2.6k

pairings: Enji Todoroki x Fem!Sidekick!Reader

summary: during a normal job for you and Endeavor, he gets hit with a Love quirk and you're the only one who he'll let help him...

a/n: dividers by @adornedwithlight! For the lovely @cherryblossombankai <3/tagging: @pixelcafe-network

It was supposed to be a standard job. Just going to bust this criminal together and then throwing him in jail. That’s it! You’re a proud sidekick to Endeavor and you even hope one day that you can be as strong as him. Endeavor always shows you just how good a hero can be, and in your heart of hearts, you know that he is the number one for you.

Everything was going well. You had tackled down the first guy, holding him against the wall while you waited for Enji to dispatch the second guy. You can hear the sirens approaching the derelict warehouse where you caught the two criminals trying to ship out some of the enhancement drugs.

Their quirks had been unknown to you, but you did notice how the guy that Enji is fighting didn’t use his at all. Instead he focused on hand-to-hand combat. Which you thought was pretty impressive considering that Endeavor could easily kill this guy, but he won’t. The guy then realizes what kind of trouble he and his partner are in.

“Well, I guess we can’t win. But you sure ain’t gonna win either!” He shouts, then he opens his hand and waves it in front of Enji’s face.

Endeavor growls, pushing himself away from the villain. You can’t tell what the guy’s quirk was, but you know it’s affecting Endeavor immediately. His pupils dilate and he’s got a crazed look on his face. The two villains help each other, pushing you away from the other guy. You try to chase them but they are already too fast. You look back at Enji in defeat, but he’s not looking at you angrily like you were expecting.

You’ve never seen him like this. He’s been your boss for a long time. To say that you weren’t attracted to him would be a big fat lie. Endeavor was one of the most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on, but you know it would be wrong to hit on your boss. It’s just not right. Then again, the way he’s looking at you right now would suggest otherwise. Wait…why is he looking at you like that?

“Get away from here! Go tell the police what happened!” His voice sounds angry, but it’s thick with something else. Something you can’t quite pinpoint.

You do as he says, telling the police that Endeavor got hit with a mystery quirk and that the villains were running away. Some of the other pro heroes are on scene now and they begin to chase down the villains. You return to your boss. 

Enji is nowhere to be found. He made his way upstairs to one of the office spaces in the building. His suit is becoming way too tight, and it is starting to feel a little slick with sweat now. He’s not stupid; he was just hit a Love quirk.

Usually people with a quirk like that were contained or their were strict laws surrounding how they could be used. The fact that the bastard had taken the time to hit him dead on was just a cheap shot. Enji swears as he sits down on the old couch in the office and adjusts himself through his suit. He did not want you to see him like this; all weakened and pathetic.

The way his stomach flips and erupts with butterflies whenever he touches his cock lets him know just how strong this quirk is. It’s painful in a way because he knows he’s going to have to take care of this alone. There’s nothing else he can do. He can’t have anyone see him like this, they wouldn’t know how to help.

He’s just lazily palming himself through his costume for the time being. His eyes scan the room to see how he can maybe block the door. He’d tell whoever came looking for him a dumb lie. Most of them trust his word, they know he wouldn’t be hiding himself away for no good reason.

Your voice sounds so saccharine as you call out for him. His cock is jumping as he hears you getting even closer. You’re so worried about him too; fuck, he swears that you’re just the cutest little thing to ever cross paths with him.

“Enji?” You call out.

He bites his lip when he hears you using his real name. You shouldn’t be here. You should be somewhere safe and not near him where he could easily open that door, throw you onto this couch and fuck you until your legs turn to jelly. No, you need to fucking leave. But he swears he can just about smell you as you get even closer.

“Get out of here! Now!” He growls.

Your hand hovers over the doorknob of the door. You aren’t sure you like the tone of his voice right now. Whatever quirk he was hit by, you knew it was affecting him worse than anything else. You’ve seen him get hurt before, but this wasn’t him with his wounded pride and injuries on his body.

This must have fucked with his psyche somehow. You wonder if maybe the quirk was a brainwashing one, but you know you’re just so worried. You need to make sure he’s fine. You slowly turn the knob and then push the door open just enough so you can stick your head inside.

The sight of Enji on the couch, his hand between his thighs and the glazed over look in his eyes. That’s all you needed to see to let you know that this was no brainwashing quirk. He had clearly been hit by a Love quirk and it was driving him insane. He flares his nostrils when you finally step inside the office.

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to get the hell out of here?” He snaps. His hand keeps rubbing up against the obvious bulge in his costume.

You back away slowly, afraid of the man in front of you. But there was something else there that was hitting you. You found yourself wanting to help him. You know you shouldn’t suggest it, but maybe you could be of use. Love quirks usually go away faster with someone helping the victim out.

“I couldn’t leave you!” You cry out as you close the door behind you.

Endeavor sits up on the couch, looking at you with a pure blaze in his eyes. If you make one more step inside this room, he’s going to not be able to hold back. He’s going to lose it and he’s going to have no control.

“If you don’t fucking leave right now,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m going to fucking lose it.”

You shudder at his words. You feel like you’re losing your mind already. It almost feels warmer in here. You tentatively take a half-step towards him and he groans and tilts his head back.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

You stop him. “I can help!”

He growls, “Fuck no! Don’t get any closer.”

But he knows you both want this. You’ve been pining for him for a while, and he’s shared the same feelings. Since his divorce from Rei and taking you on as a new sidekick, Enji knows that he can’t hold back his emotions for you. You’ve been such a positive light in his life. You’ve shown him a new way to look at things.

His eyes close and he lets out almost a purring noise. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You approach him and take his hand. “You won’t hurt me. Let me help.”

He shudders from head to toe as you finally get close enough to him. You wipe the sweat from his brow in such a loving way, he’s moaning at the feeling of your hand on him. His eyes are so dark, you can just about make out the amount of arousal he’s feeling right now.

He nods frantically, “A really strong one.”

“Love quirk, right?” you finally ask.

You look at him. He’s a mess right now. His cock is throbbing beneath the spandex. There’s that lust-crazed look in his eyes. And his hands are shaking from not touching you. You then lick your lips and look into his eyes.

“What do you want? You want me to use my hand or my mouth or?”

You don’t get to finish when he’s pulling you towards him and he’s kissing you with so much hunger. His tongue penetrates your mouth, tangling wetly and sensually with yours. Enji lets out very deep and dark grunts that rumble through his chest. You’ve never been kissed like this at all.

He’s pulling you even closer; his arms wrapping around your waist. You nearly topple over as you get tangled in the discarded files and papers on the ground. He holds you so close, kissing you as if your kisses were like the oxygen he needs to breathe.

“I just need you so badly,” he finally says in a husky tone of voice. “Don’t care what you do to me, but please…please.”

You grab the zipper to his costume and you unzip it. You’re trying to work as quickly as you can. Enji keeps bucking his hips as more of him gets exposed. He reaches over to help you unzip yours. Your breasts are exposed and he’s pawing at you like some sort of teen boy who’s just found his first porn mag.

His cock stands erect and leaking. You dreamt about seeing him naked for so long, but you never thought it would be in a dirty, abandoned office space. You finally kneel in front of him, and Enji lets out a strangled moan. Just the sight of you on your knees for him has his cock leaking even more fluid.

“D-don’t fucking tease!” 

You giggle at how much he’s at your mercy right now. You reach over to hold his cock in your hand and you feel your stomach flip when you realize that your fingers don’t even touch from the size of him. He growls when you begin to jerk him off.

“Yes, yes yes…oh god yes!”

He’s panting, growling and moaning. He sounds like a ferocious beast trying to mate. His hips begin pumping in time with your hand. Then you lean in to lick the tip and this has him whimpering.

“D-do it again!” His fingers tangle in your hair. He pushes you gently, or as gently as he can manage while under this quirk’s power.

You wrap your lips around him and he feels his knees buckling. There’s stars dancing in his vision already. All he can do is white-knuckle the sofa beneath him as you’re bobbing your head up and down. His legs are literally shaking as you try to take him deep down your throat. The sofa is beginning to creak from the pressure of his fingers clinging to it.

“Don’t stop!” He roars. “Don’t fucking stop!”

Tears sting your eyes as you do all that you can to continue to deepthroat Enji. You wonder what will happen if you are to let him fuck you. You’re going to be wrecked completely. You won’t be able to walk for a week. Then when you look up at him, you know you’ve done the wrong thing.

He pulls you off his cock and he pushes you down on the sofa. His eyes are alight with a fire that you know you’re the only one will ever see. He leans in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. It’s hungrier than the last one and he moans when he tastes himself on your lips.

“Gotta fuck you. I need it.”

His words hit you so hard. You don’t know that you can take him, but there is no turning back now. Enji Todoroki was about to fuck you until you were going to pass out. He pulls his costume off of him fully, then he helps you out of yours. He lets out a ‘tsk’ when he notices the underwear.

“Not everyone goes commando, sir.”

Those words earned you another rumbling growl before he kisses you sloppily again. You feel like your mind is already swimming from the amount of lust you feel for this man. His fingers curl around the waistband of your little panties and he pulls them off with enforce that they tear.

He smirks at the cute little gasp you let out. He pushes two of his fingers into you, his thumb coming up to rub your clit. You were thanking your lucky stars that at least he was prepping you to take his length. Endeavor is rough with you, but it only serves to turn you on even more. Your juices are slick all over his fingers.

Then he presses you back and spreads your thighs. His cock sits heavy on your mound for a moment as he leans down to spit on the head of it. You cry out and cling to the couch as he penetrates you roughly.

“Just take it! I need this!” He growls as his hips snap.

He’s just chasing his own high. You knew this is what it was anyway. When you offered to help, you know that he wouldn’t be focusing on you at all. You feel warmth blossoming inside of you when you think about how he tried to prep you for his impressive size. Even with that, you feel like you’re being split open as Enji pounds himself into you.

“Perfect little hole,” he grunts against your ear before he begins to leave love bites on your neck. “Like you were fuckin’ made to take me!”

Your legs wrap around him as you try to gain a little control, but this only pushes him even deeper inside of you. Endeavor growls loudly before biting down on the junction between your shoulder and neck. This causes your walls to spasm around him and he’s roaring loudly again.

“Milkin’ my cock, huh?” He asks in a dark tone of voice.

The way he’s talking to you is even most feral now. He’s gripping your hips harshly, certainly leaving indentations. His body keeps trembling with every harsh thrust. His cock throbs as he slams against your cervix. He wants you to cum if you can. He needs to feel that around his cock.

“Cum for me. Come on, fuckin’ cum for me! Milk my cock.”

The Love quirk was penetrating his mind even more so. The closer to his peak, the more he felt feral and hungry for you. He lets his hand slip between you both and he rubs your clit in fast little circles. You can barely wrap your mind around the pleasure you’re feeling. Enji leans in to capture your lips in a rough kiss.

“Cum for me, baby. Come on, do it for me.”

The coil in your stomach snaps and your vision turns to white. Every single nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire as you cum hard. Your cry of his name only makes him fuck you even faster and deeper. Your legs feel like they are jelly right now.

He’d give anything to you. He’d promise you anything right now. If you wanted to get married and have kids, he swears while he’s in this state, he’d give you the world. Enji feels his orgasm creeping up on him and the chills run down his spine. His balls are drawing up and he’s panting like an animal in heat.

“Cumming!” He growls as he feels the first pulse of his semen.

He holds onto you so close, making sure to shoot deep inside your hot heat. As he rides out his high, you can see him slowly returning to normal. There’s a bit of a blush on his cheeks when he finally snaps out of it. But instead of making you feel bad, he just kisses you.

“Thank you for helping me.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[bigification]

Step Daddy

"You really need to get over your stepdad man." My friend tells me, concerned.

"Look, I'll try this one last thing and if it doesn't work then I'll give it up." I respond. "Did you bring the sunglasses?"

"Yes, but just remember he's like 25 years older than you. He's probably not going to be into you, even after this." He says as he hands me a pair of old pilot shades.

I told him I could let it go, but I can't. I'm just putting all my eggs into this basket, the sunglasses. Apparently they're supposed to transform someone who wears them mentally and physically to match my type. He already is my type, but I guess I wouldn't mind him bulking up a bit and growing some hair. It would be sexy if he got more charming, but he's already charming as it is. I guess there's only one way to find out.

I wait on the living room couch watching tv. He always gets home from work at the same time, so I know he'll be here any minute. I sit and stare at my reflection in the glasses. Am I really ready to change this man's life so drastically. My friend said no one else would take notice of the change, so it'll be like nothing happened. As I'm thinking over it, I hear the roar of his engine from the driveway. I try to calm down, but I can feel my body vibrate from the nerves. The door flies open.

"Hey buddy, hows it goin?" He asks me with his hot southern accent.

"Not bad. By the way, I found these sunglasses lying around, and assumed they were yours." I try to play it cool as I lie to his face.

"Oh, thanks. But these aren't mine." He responds.

"Well you might as well keep em, they don't fit me anyway." I try to convince him to take them without seeming too pushy.

"Well alright, thanks kid." He swipes the glasses and throws them on.

That was easier than I thought. As soon as he put them on, he stopped moving. His jaw slacked as if there was not a thought running through his mind. It started slow, his button up started to look a little bit tighter. His once flat chest started to push against his shirt and the shape of a belly started to show. Then it started to speed up. His chest started to pulse, growing in size with each one. They grew until the button on his collar popped off, then another button popped, then another and another. His juicy pecs flopped down after being released from his shirt. His stomach was next. His midsection widened and his stomach grew into a respectable beer belly, straining against his shirt. It wasn't long before more buttons began to pop, until his shirt was completely open. His arms also looked like they doubled in size, filling out his sleeves with thick muscles.

Next his legs start to look like they're gonna burst out of his dress pants. I can hear the rips ripple through his pants as his thighs grow inside of them. His ass fills out all the space in his pants and proceeds to rip open his fly and snap his belt in half. I can tell his underwear is barely staying in one piece as a large bulge formed in between his legs.

Finally his face begins to change. His once skinny face fills out with fat, giving him a rounder look. I can see that hair is falling out of his hat until he is left completely bald under there. Though in return his clean shaven face grows a bushy beard. But the hair doesn't stop there. It continues down his chest and to his belly, and presumably the rest of his body. He finally regains control of his body. He sighs as he stretched out his arms and cracks his knuckles before looking right at me.

"Come here, son." He says in a deep buttery voice.

A shock travels through my spine as I think he might know what I've done to him.

"What'd I say boy!" He raises his voice.

I jump a bit before I walk closer to him. I realize how imposing he is up close. He must have gotten taller because he seems well over six feet tall now, and at least 250 pounds.

"Daddy had a stressful day, why don't you help him release some tension." He says as he pushes me to my knees.

I blush, this is everything I wanted from this, it just happened so much faster than I thought.

"Don't be shy, boy. This will be our little secret." He says as he pulls his underwear down.

[yangbbokari]

Skz makes a bet on you Maknae Line

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x f!Reader

Genre, AU: angst ofc, lovers to exes!AU

Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, many mentions of insecurities. I think that abt it

Summary: you happened to learn one day that the never really loved you and only made a bet with the other members to see if you would fall in love with them

A.N: Not proof read at all and this is the maknae line to the previous one. Both part twos will be coming out soo I promise🤭

Parts: Hyung Line Part 2

HAN JISUNG It was his birthday and you were more than happy to surprise him. The members were in on it too. To suddenly stop during practice and sit him down.

For the whole day you were preparing. Making a cheesecake for him and baking a cake for the rest of the members. You decorated the cheesecake in some little quokka cake pops. After you were done, you began cooking his favorite meals and packing them up. When all the cooking, making, and cooking was done, you found that you had more time on your hands. So you felt the need to clean the house so it’d be all tidy when he got back.

You checked the time before heading out. The house was clean, food was ready, now all you needed to do was get a gift and drive to the company. As you strolled through the store a very particular item caught your eye. A small clip earring with a feather at the end. It was perfect. Jisung always called you his, quote on quote, “Little Dove.”

So you grabbed it and put it in a little box with a bow.

You drove to the company excitedly. Giving the food to the staff before making your way to the practice room. You were just about to step in when you heard it. The color drained form your face and the excitement you held earlier, gone.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since me and y/n started dating and we made that bet.” You heard your boyfriend say.

Bang Chan tried to stop him. “Jisung, I think—”

“You guys have to remember! We made a bet to see if I could pull y/n. Y’all made me go up to her and ask if she wanted to date me because she seemed lonely and if she agreed then I’d get 20 bucks from each of y’all.”

You could hear the boys try to stop him since they knew you were here but it was too late. They turned to see the door to the practice room slowly creak open. Standing there with the cake in your hands and tears in your eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” You said as tears fell from your eyes. Quickly wiping them away since it was supposed to be a happy occasion. Placing the cake into a staff members hands, you shoved the box into your pocket. “I-I-I guess I’ll give you what you want for your birthday gift.” You turned and ran as far as you can. Dropping the gift into the trash can on your way out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEE FELIX He knew you were this insecure so how could he say that. You’d always hated your figure since before you could remember. Whenever you met someone new, that was the first thing they noticed. The size of your body. You hated the way you looked but Felix always told you different. He made you believe you were as beautiful as you are and you slowly gained your confidence.

That was until today. The confidence he helped you build, he tore down himself.

Today, you came home a bit earlier than usual. When walking through the door, you announced your arrival but Felix was nowhere in sight. You could hear the slight mumbling coming from another room. You had forgotten. He had told you that Minho was coming this morning.

After taking off your shoes and hanging your coat, you walked over to the door. Just so happening to hear what they were conversing. The cat-like boy began first. “You remember that bet we made?”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend replied.

“You’ve got to give it to me that you and y/n started dating in the first place.” “Ohhh!!! That’s what you’re talking about. The bet, right?”

“Yeah, when I told you I’d give you one hundo if you got the fat girl’s number. Now it’s been two years since you guys started dating.” Too immersed in your own shock, you dropped the items you were holding. Tears filled your eyes. Both, Felix and Minho’s, heads jerked in your direction.

“Y/n? How long have you been standing there?” Felix asked you in a panic.

“N-not long…”

You picked up your things from the floor, reput on your shoes and coat, grabbed your keys, and headed out the door. You didn’t know if you could stay any longer. You felt hurt to hear that. He helped you through your insecurities just to make it worse than before he arrived. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ KIM SEUNGMIN Your whole world fell apart. And so did your oh so perfect relationship with Seungmin.

It was just a petty argument that came from stress and the lack of sleep but it still hurt you. It actually hurt more than you thought it would. But what hurt most of all was what you had to find out.

Seungmin returned home after tour extremely tired so you did your best. You made sure he had every meal and wasn't overwhelmed. But apparently, you didn't do enough. He began to berate you for even the smallest things and it tore your heart apart.

One day, as you laid on the bed the two of you shared, he slammed the bedroom door open. You flinched and looked up at him. A little bit annoyed you asked, "The hell was that for?"

He sighed and glared at you.

"You want to know? This comeback has been stressful and all you do is lay in bed all day. You never clean around the house even though you're only doing a part-time job. I mean seriously, are you just going to be that FUCKING LAZY!?"

You looked at him in disbelief. Never in a million years did you ever expect to see this side of him.

"I literally just got done cooking and came to lay on the bed. I was waiting for YOU to get home. I washed our clothes, folded them, put them away, then cleaned around the house. I did all this because I know you like your place tidy. Plus, a clean space is better for the mind."

"You call this clean!? It looks like a pigsty." You felt the tears blazing at the corner of your eyes. "Don't fucking say that. I'm trying my best to not say anything right now." "Say it then!!" He yelled. You huffed and turned away not wanting to argue any longer. "Yeah... turn away like you always do. I should've just left you as a bet. Never loved you in the first place."

It was a slip of the tongue. He didn't mean it. Or did he? Either way, it hurt you. Seungmin knew he was wrong but didin't want to admit itin the heat of the moment.

You turned to face him, finally letting the tears out. "Fuck you..." Was all you said before grabbing your phone and leaving the house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ YANG JEONGIN It was accidental. Jeongin was so flustered in the moment that he confessed everything to you. He didn't intend for you to find out like this but how else were you suppose to?

The both of you were at dinner with the other members. They all teased Jeongin for being such a simp for you. You just chuckled at their antics. It was cute to see the youngest member get teased by his hyungs and you were glad to witness it all in first person.

Jeongin, being fed up, accidentaly let it slip.

"Well it was because you guys made a bet with me that if I could pull y/n then y'all would buy me the new Bruno Mars album."

Everyone went silent as you slowly faced him. "What did you say..?"

Jeongin immediately placed a hand over his mouth. Tears brimmed your eyes. You stood up, excusing yourself. "I-I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." None of them even tried to stop you. They knew that they'd be devastated in your situation too.

Were you being a little dramatic? The answer was yes. You could've heard Jeongin out instead of hiding in the bathroom. But at this point, you weren't so sure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist: @lolareadsimagines @garrixer-06 @bandolls @chansbabygirlsstuff @camilagonzalex @mariteez @beccaskz

[moonstruckme]

hi, love! just wanna say first of all that i love your writing and your account. keep up the good work!

second of all, i was wondering if i could put in a sort of specific request? i'm currently on my period and the bloating is making me feel really bad about my body ☹️ so i was hoping maybe you could write a fic where Steve comforts Reader when she's going through something like that?

feel free to disregard this if it's too heavy of a topic, i know it can be triggering to talk about things like this for some people.

wishing you all the best! 🫶🏻

- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛

Thanks so much babe!

cw: period cramps, insecurities arounds stomach/bloating

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 861 words

You think your favorite place has to be lying between Steve’s legs, with one of his hands clasped in yours and the other on your boob. If you focus really hard, you can hear his heart beating underneath your ear. You’re watching some mindless sitcom, trying to distract yourself from this blessedly mild round of cramps and silently debating whether having chocolate ice cream is worth getting up and going to the store to get it. But if Steve keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand like this, you might melt right into the couch and then the decision would be made for you. 

It happens so gradually you almost don’t even notice. Steve knows to be gentle with you when you’re sensitive like this, his hand massaging the fat of your boob kindly before grazing lower to rub at the skin just beneath it. Then it goes lower still, and you tense when he dips under the hem of your shirt and takes a handful of your stomach in his grasp. 

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice that you’ve stopped breathing, kneading at the supple chub of your middle absentmindedly, but you lower your hand to his, bringing it back up into comfortable territory. Then he looks at you, a questioning glance out of the corner of his eye. You pretend not to see. His hand drifts slowly, tentatively, back towards your stomach. 

“Don’t,” you say softly, taking it again before it can get there. It’s not a reprimand so much as a gentle request, but still, Steve’s eyebrows furrow. 

“What’s the deal?” he asks, echoing your mild tone. “I thought stomach rubs were supposed to help with cramps.” 

You soften. “That’s really sweet of you,” you tell him, “but I’m okay. I just don’t love the idea of my stomach being, like, perceived right now.” 

“Perceived?” Steve angles his head to see you better, hand resting on the flat of your chest. “Why, what’s wrong with it?” 

“It’s just bloated.” You sink a bit further between his legs, avoiding his stare. “It’s like, remember that time I came over without telling you and you didn’t want me to see your hair first thing in the morning?” 

“Yeah, you mean the time you told me to stop being a priss and get over it? That time?” 

You chuckle. “Right, well, I guess it’s kind of like that.” 

Steve hums, playing with your fingers distractedly. “Okay,” he says after a minute, “I just want to preface this by saying that I really like you, and I think you’re smart and cool. Okay?”

He leans over until he can see your face, and you nod warily.

“You’re being stupid.” 

A laugh startles out of you, but Steve doesn't give you a chance for rebuttal. 

“You’re hot, babe.” He says it deadpan, like it’s a fact he had to memorize in school. “Like, smoking hot. The idea that you would give a shit, much less think I would give a shit, about your stomach being bloated is insane. And you trying to keep me from touching it is, like, practically criminal. Aren’t your tits bloated too?” 

“Um,” you hesitate, somehow more self-conscious than you had been when this began, “yeah?” 

“Right,” he says proudly. “And not to be a creep, but I’ve kind of been enjoying the shit out of those for the past couple of hours.” 

“Steve.” You laugh awkwardly, squirming underneath his gaze. “That’s different, and you know it.” 

He shrugs, looking you plain in the face. “Not to me. Listen, babe,” he drops his voice into a more sincere register, “I like you—your stomach, your tits, all of it—all of the time. And I think it’d make you feel better if you let me rub your stomach for you right now, so just let me, and if I start to find you any less hot, I promise to let you know.” The implication in his tone is clear: like, when pigs fly. 

You look at him for a while. Steve can surprise you with his stubbornness sometimes. His eyelashes don’t so much as flicker under your perusal. 

“Okay,” you sigh, getting comfortable again in his lap. “Fine, have at it.” 

“Yes,” he hisses, his hand going back down and taking in a greedy handful of your swollen belly. You start to tense, nerves making your head go staticky, but gradually you’re able to relax. Steve with his hands on you is no foreign thing. He starts to push down tentatively, asking you to coach him on where you need it the most until he’s gently massaging over the ache. You let your eyes slip closed. You honestly hadn’t expected it to bring quite so much relief. 

“Did Robin put you up to this?” you ask quietly. 

Steve’s soft chuckle confirms your theory. “You’ve got her to thank for the chocolate ice cream in the fridge, too.” 

A smile spreads across your face, and you can hear him laugh again at how blissed-out you must look. “Remind me to give her a hug the next time I see her.” 

“You could just give it to me instead," he says. "I’ll pass it along.”

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 20 - The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 1)

8.6K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Five months pass as you and Din try to forget one another.

Warnings: 18+ Content to be safe (MDNI please). Angst! (like a lot) Yearning, pining, mourning. People are hard on themselves in this one, folks. Nicknames (Din still thinks of you as Pretty Bird even though you're no longer his Pretty Bird; you're still Lil' Lady to Paz). And there is mild violence (of the Rory variety).

A/N: Thank you to everyone for being so patient with me! It's been a month since Ch. 19 and I guess this word count reflects that 😅😂 It could have been a little shorter but this ask convinced me to include the final scene instead of leaving it for the next chapter 🫣🤷🏻‍♀️ For that final scene, please imagine the suit/look from the Variety Hollywood issue shoot. The vibes of this and the next chapter is this scene in Twilight New Moon (cue 🎶it's a possibilityyyyyy🎶):

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

The week following that night at Din’s, you’re a shell of a person.  You cry for entire days but not much else - going on auto pilot taking care of Al but not yourself.  You don’t go to brunch that weekend, saying you feel disgusting, which honestly isn’t too far from the truth.  You’ve never been cheated on so you hardly know what it is you feel, only that an unyielding and tempestuous monsoon of emotions swirls inside you at all hours of the day.  You oscillate wildly between barely restrained hysteria, self-effacing shame, and sadness in an endless cycle.

To only your dog, you sometimes burst out half crying, half laughing at the absurdity of what you stumbled upon at Din’s apartment – how was it even possible?  Din, who you had loved with your whole heart, had pledged himself to you as you had him.  He had been your match in every way, and it was a tenant of his devotion that he only ever wanted to take care of you, make your life better.  How could the same man, without any warning, betray you in such an unfeeling and vulgar manner?  It simply could not be possible - it had to have been some type of cruel joke, you sob to Al. 

Then in an instant, you’ll turn your ire unto yourself: How could you have allowed this to happen?  Because it certainly did.  You stupidly let yourself be so blinded by love and desire that you didn’t see Din for what he was.  He wasn’t some honourable and noble protector; he was just some asshole who did and said what he needed to get his dick wet – and like an idiot you had fallen for it.  You were supposed to smarter than that, but it turns out you were just susceptible to a handsome face and a fat cock as anyone else.  The Din you had fallen for had been a total fabrication, and the dumbest part is that you had let him lie to you: you had blindly accepted that there were things in his life that he could never be fully honest with you about - that there were things that he just had to keep secret from you for your “own protection.”  You had accepted dishonesty as part of your so-called relationship right off the bat, it was no wonder that none of it had been real.  Stupid, stupid. 

Though you know now that it had all been lie, you still have moments, usually in the dead of night when sleepiness strips you of your ability to reason and overthink, where you simply just mourn.  Mourn the loss of what you had thought, no - felt in the very depth of your heart was a true, deep love.  It didn’t matter that it had all been an invention of your mind – the love you felt had been genuine for you, and you had cherished and held it dear.  The tears you shed during these periods of grieving are for the loss of your own false happiness and for the man that you had believed it.  It didn’t matter that they were never real to begin with, you had lost them all the same.

Your fog extends into the work week and you do something you haven’t done in ages: you take it off citing illness – you sleep, cry and try not to think of the crushing backlog you’ll face when you eventually return to work.  Near the end of the week, you make a phone call that you’ve been dreading but know is necessary.  Lala comes over the same day on her lunch hour – she thought you were just sick, having taken your excuse for missing the last brunch at face value, but when you burst into tears upon seeing her, she immediately knows that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Taking you straight to her clinic, she slots you in with a fellow nurse right away so you can get what you’ve been dreading over with.  During the self-blame episodes of your emotion spiral, the weight of Din’s cheating and its possible consequences aside from the shattering of your heart have started to press down on you.  You definitely don’t need one more anxiety to occupy your thoughts, and this particular problem you could do something about.  You need to do something and accordingly you find yourself sitting in the clean but impersonal examination room answering the very kind nurse’s survey questions to determine what tests you need.

“Is there any particular reason you need a screening or is this routine?”

“My boyfriend cheated on me,” you say this flat, factually.

“Oh.  I’m sorry.   How long was your relationship?” her response is similarly dispassionate.

“Nearly a year.”

“During that time, how many sexual partners did you have?”

“Just the one.”

“Had you been tested prior to engaging in sexual activities with your partner?”

“Yes, all clean.”

“Was you partner tested?”

“He said he was clean.”  You can only answer what Din told you, with no confidence in whether or not it was the truth.

“Do you know how many other partners your partner had while you were together?”

“… no.”  Tears start to line your lower lash line.

“How long was he engaging in sexual activities with other partners?”

“… I really don’t know.”  Oh no, oh no, you’re going to cry.  Because you really don’t know any of it.  It's awful enough imaging that Din had been messing around with Vanessa the whole time that you and him had been together – if he was capable of that, who’s to say there weren’t others?

“Ok.  To identify the tests you need, I just need to ask about your sexual activities with your partner over the last year.  Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kiss on the mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you engage in vaginal fingering?”

“Yes.”

“Anal fingering? Receiving, giving?”

“Yes. No.”

“Did you engage in oral sex? Receiving, giving?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Did you engage in penetrative vaginal sex?”

“Yes.”

“With protection? Or without?”

“Without.”  This is the only question you answer with shame.  Yes, everything had been consensual, but this – the decision to not use condoms was one made based on a mutual trust; a trust you gave openly and willingly to someone who hadn’t deserved it.  You had been careless in this respect – caught up in your feelings and your mistaken instinct that had told you Din was worth trusting.

“Did you engage in penetrative anal se-“

And so on, and so forth.  To the best of your ability, you answer clinically and without feeling, trying not to let the white hot flames of shame and anger simmering in your stomach boil up and over.  You had trusted Din, with your heart yes, but also your body.  One of the things you had loved about Din was how he always seemed to prioritized both your emotional and physical comfort and safety during your sexual activities, but for possibly the entirety of your relationship, he had actually been putting you in danger – taking a risk for you that you hadn’t consent to.  You don’t know how many other partners he was with when he was with you or if he had been safe with them – his cavalier approach to your health makes you sick. 

This feels good. It feels good to be angry instead of sad.

You wait patiently for the nurse to return with the swabs and containers and other equipment you need to self administer the tests.  Silently and alone, you follow the instructions while hot tears cascade over your cheeks.  It had felt good to be angry at Din for a moment, but it took more energy than you had to sustain it; the anger burned out quickly, leaving behind only sadness and embarrassment for having allowed yourself to be put in this position at all.

After leaving the samples where directed, you redress and meet Lala back in the waiting room and she takes you home.  You tell her that it’s okay if she tells the rest of the girls what happened, but you don’t know if you can deal with talking about it just yet and she nods understandingly.  You know your friends will be supportive (and possibly violent), but the strength required to feel your feelings and simultaneously express and explain them out loud doesn’t sound like something you have right now.  Not for the first time, you’re grateful that your friends are unflinchingly kind and understanding of you.

By the time the next Sunday brunch rolls around, your internal reservoir levels for self pity and destructive thoughts have lowered considerably.  You’re mainly just sad for what you thought was and what will never be, wallowing in the loss of what you had imagined would be a happy future with Din.

The girls are not quite that far along in their emotional journeys, but you’re better equipped now to answer their questions and receive their outbursts and reactions.  They all have choice words for Din ranging from lying cheating bastard to dickless waste of DNA.  Threats of violence to his personal (and commercial) property, as well as his physical being are put forth, predictably by Rory and less predictably from Katie.  Bea and Jen focus on drilling into you that you’re in no way at fault and that you hadn’t been wrong or stupid to trust and love Din the way you did.  Lala, being the only one to have seen you when you were in your darkest place, just holds your hand firmly, giving it a reassuring squeeze every so often.  You cry into your eggs and your friends shower you with comfort and support until you feel a little more like a human who is loved again.

One month ATN (After That Night)

Oof - you’re hungry.  It’s been a long morning of straight through meetings with no breaks until only now.  Well past lunch, it’s later than you would usually come, but you hope that your favourite sandwich shop still has some good options left – you’re starving. 

Walking in, the shop isn’t busy (which honestly makes sense as it’s nearing 2:00 pm) and the take away fridge is fairly bare, but with some satisfaction, you see your favourite sandwich sitting all by its lonesome on the top shelf.  Hand already out as you approach the refrigerated display, you reach up on your toes, just to have a big hand dart in ahead of your smaller one and snatch the sandwich out of your reach.

Falling back on the flats of your feat, you’re comically upset – this sandwich was your reward for your overly hectic morning and your disappointment is being further fueled by rising levels of hangry.  Maybe this nice man will offer you back the sandwich if you ask kindly; ready to give this sandwich stealer the sweetest most saccharine smile you can muster, you turn to face him and…

“Paz?”

“Lil’ Lady?”

This could be awkward.  You had loved Paz too.  Part of the great sense of loss you felt when you and Din broke up was from also suddenly losing the friendships you had made through him.  The Mandos, Poe and Lisa, Cass and even Boba had made up what had become a little family to you; the sense of belonging and love you had felt when they welcomed you into their fold and treated you as one of their own was one that you had treasured – their trust in you was not something you took lightly and you had kept their secrets with pride.  You had loved them all as well. 

Of course, like a knife to the heart, you’ve since come to the hurtful realization that those friendships were not as true or deep as you had thought either.  In all likelihood, Din’s friends were probably well aware of his cheating, or at the very least that his feelings for you didn’t run as deep as yours did him.  Though it saddened you, you couldn’t exactly be mad – their loyalty was to Din, not you.  At one time you may have felt some bitterness at this, but right now, seeing Paz for the first time after so long… you feel only happiness at seeing an old friend.

There’s a beat of silence and then it seems you both reach for a hug - it’s quick but warm.

“How have you been?” you ask, simultaneously; chuckling with you, Paz gestures for you to go first.

“Oh,” you don’t really know how to answer; Paz will surely know what transpired between you and Din.  Devastated?  Crushed?  Facing a crisis of self-confidence?  You opt for a watered-down version of the truth, “I’m as good as expected.  Busy at work.”

“Same.  With work, that is,” Paz smiles warmly at you; he’s missed you too.

“You down here for work today?” Suddenly recalling that Din had been downtown for Mando work the first time you met, you try not to let the pain of the memory show on your face.

“Yup.  Work.” Paz won’t tell you that he’s on a security detail, even though its not yours (you're under the careful watch of Koska and Iggy today).

You’re not going to ask about Din.  You’re not going to ask about Din, “How is… everyone?”

Paz assumes you must mean Din but he doesn’t know how to answer your question.  A shell of a man?  A man possessed when it came to the investigation into the threat made against you?  Depressed as all hell?  Paz can only parrot back your earlier response, “Uh, as well as can be expected.  Things have been tense, there’s a lot of stuff going on.”

You obviously don’t ask for details – it’s not your place anymore, and in truth, you feel like it never really was but you try to smile anyways, “Well, you can have the sandwich then.”

Paz looks down at the sandwich he’s still holding in his hand and laughs, “Are you sure?”

Nodding happily, it feels good to joke around with Paz again, “Definitely.  I’m here everyday.  I can have it anytime.”

“Ok, only if you let me buy you your sandwich, Lil' Lady.”

Beaming, you acquiesce, “Deal.”

Grabbing another sandwich from the fridge, you join Paz in line; the two of you standing together in comfortable silence.  You don’t know how it happens but a question that’s been silently buzzing in your mind slips out without permission, “Paz – can I ask you?  Are Din and Vanessa still together?”

You regret it the second the words leave your mouth, tears springing to your eyes.  Looking up at Paz, wide-eyed and embarrassed, you cover your mouth with your hands as if trying to magically stuff the words back in, “Omigod!! Paz!  I’m sorry!  That was... oh gosh... just really, really inappropriate of me.  Please don’t answer.  I never should have asked that.  Seriously.  Don’t answer please.  Besides, I don’t think either answer would make me very happy.”

Paz gives you a warm side hug and a sad look before he says reassuringly, “It’s okay, Lil’ Lady.  Don’t worry about it.”  He insists on buying you a cookie when you get up to the counter and you accept gratefully – you need all the comfort you can get right now.

The two of you say your quiet, but friendly goodbyes on the sidewalk outside of the sandwich shop; each genuinely hoping you’ll see the other again, but knowing that you likely won’t.

---

Paz is hovering.  Din can feel it, but he doesn’t look up from his seat on the ringside bench where he’s checking through an equipment list on his clipboard.

Paz continues to shuffle around until Din sighs and gives in to what his friend so obviously wants; looking up and tilting his head as his way of saying 'What?'

“Saw the Lil' Lady today.”

Immediately, Din’s heart leaps into his throat and his now empty chest constricts painfully; forcing himself to look back down at his paperwork, Din only grunts to acknowledge that he heard Paz.  Clearly Paz has something to say and in all the time they’ve been friends, Din has never been able to get Paz to keep his thoughts to himself, so he just waits.

“Ran into her at a sandwich shop near her office.  She looks good.”

Silence.

“She gave me her sandwich.”

Din closes his eyes, “Was it the egg salad?”

“Yeah.  How did you know?” Paz can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It’s her favourite,” Din says simply. 

For some reason, this takes all of the wind out of Paz’s sails and he lays a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “She asked how everyone was, but it’s clear she was thinking of you.  Why don’t you call her, brother?”

Even if the whole point of what he had done to you wasn’t so you would stay as far away from him as possible, Din can’t imagine a world where you would want to talk to him, “She hates me.  I fucked up, and I hurt her.  She doesn’t think about me.”

Paz doesn’t want to bring up your question about Vanessa, but he can’t help but think it must mean something that you asked at all, “Maybe she’ll forgive you.”

Din is done with this conversation; he gets up and starts to head towards his office, “I don’t deserve her forgiveness.  I don’t deserve her.”

Two Months ATN

Din never allows himself to see you.  You’re a creature of habit and for the most part, your life after him has reverted to normal; it would be so easy for him to catch a glimpse of you whenever he needed to see for himself that you’re alright.  If he was lucky, he might even catch one of your many soft and sweet expressions that he misses so much and be able to pretend for a moment that it was for him.

But he doesn’t allow it.  Part of it is a means of self punishment – Din chastises himself endlessly for hurting you; he doesn’t deserve to look upon your face, he doesn’t deserve any comfort.  But ultimately, it really comes down to his own lack of self control. 

Din makes the mistake of checking in with your daytime security detail in person only once, a couple of weeks after your breakup.  Din is chatting with Mayfeld through the latter’s rolled down car window, when, as if he senses your very presence, he looks up to see you exiting your office building looking positively elated at being able to leave work at a decent hour (for you) – your quick and graceful steps towards the subway easily hold Din’s gaze through no effort of your own and his body starts to move towards you of his own accord.  He may have very well walked right into oncoming traffic trying to get to you if Miggs didn’t have a firm grip on the back of his shirt.

No, he has absolutely no self control when it came to you.  Every part of Din yearns for every part of you.  Your smile, your laugh, the sweetness of your very being and the steadfast comfort of your company.  He wishes for nothing more than to make you happy again, to be there for you to lighten your load, to make you laugh so hard you snort, the way he used to pride himself on being able to do; what he wouldn’t give to hear you coo sweetly to Al, to swim in the melodic lilt of your voice when you recall a funny story from work or your friends, or to drink in your heady moans and cries while he gave you every pleasure you deserved. 

Din knows that if he allowed himself to be in your presence for even a moment, he would throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.  Plead and grovel until you took him back and then everything, the very reason for all this misery, would be for naught.  He would do anything to see you, hear you, have you again, except risk your safety.  So, he leaves the protocol for your security to others, and he never lets himself go where he knows you might be – he exercises what control he has, so that he never loses control where it counts the most.

But his dreams he cannot control.  And Din dreams of you constantly.

He comes to both look forward to and dread these dreams.  In his dreams you don’t hate him, and they almost always start off with you looking at him like you used to, with love and admiration.  Sometimes the two of you are in a memory, maybe a special date or occasion, or even better, doing something beautifully mundane like walking Al – something the two of you did a million times without thought, just a routine part of the life you had started to build together.  But more often than not, the two of you are in bed.  Sometimes his, sometimes yours, but always just looking, talking, touching.  Din could live in these quiet moments of devotion forever. 

But the dreams never end well.  He discovered that once you left the bed in the dream, you would disappear.  Getting up to find you, Din would find the apartment empty and quiet and no matter where he goes in the dream afterwards, you would be nowhere to be found.  After this happened a few times, he would try to keep you in bed or at the very least, not let you out of Dream Din’s sight, but it never works.  No matter what he does, by the end of the dream you’re not his anymore. 

A horrifying recurrence as of late is that he follows Dream You into your kitchen to find Vanessa sitting at the island while you, crying, start to cook breakfast at the stove for him and her.  He recognizes the look you give him whenever he reaches this part of the dream, it’s the same one you gave him on that last night on his apartment landing – the look of devastation, betrayal, shock.  Your unspoken How could you?  You were supposed to love me above all else, haunts him even after he wakes with a start.  Every time Din has this dream, he relives what he did to you and he feels sick.

Even when it’s not this particular iteration, Din wakes from every nightmare of losing you again sweating and regretting everything.  In these moments, alone in a bed that’s remained cold and uninviting since you last graced it with your soft body, Din tears into himself.  What the fuck was his problem anyways?  He had made his proverbial bed and now he has to lie in it.  What would have been the fucking point of putting you through all this if he was just going to be a weak ass piece of shit and run back to you because it killed him to be apart from you?  Put you through hell and then put you in danger?  No, he can't run from it anymore: this is the price he has to pay for being who he is, for having done the things he had – he doesn't deserve good things.  He doesn't deserve you. 

What he does deserve is this cruelest of ironies: that the only way he's still allowed to love you is to take care of you by keeping you as far away from him as possible.

Four Months ATN

Oy!  Din Djarin!!

Startled by the loud and sharp toned voice that carries over the noise of traffic, Din stops in his tracks; turning towards the sound of the bark, he recognizes your friend Rory barreling towards him.  For a moment, he’s terrified that she might get hit by a car crossing the street to get at him, but the cars somehow seem to understand the determination of her gait and the ferocity in her facial expression and all roll to a stop at her outstretched hand.  You always said that Rory was a force.

Din waits dumbly in the middle of the sidewalk, ready to take the inevitably beating, verbal or otherwise – certain he could not escape her wrath even if he wanted to.  Perhaps he would be tempted to try if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe that he deserves whatever is about to come his way.

As soon as Rory steps up onto the curb, two balled up fists of rage ram right into Din’s chest, the force of which, if he had not been braced for it, might have sent this former boxing champ flying backwards.

You!!! 

An accusatory finger is now poking him incessantly, over and over, pushing right into his sternum.

Din holds his two hands up, as if to surrender, but doesn’t do anything to stop her oncoming assault.  It’s starting to hurt a little, but he knows he deserves it and more.

Liar!

Cheater!

Pathetic!

Asshole.

Garbage human.

Piece of shit.

How you could do that to her?!

She did nothing but love you. 

She’s the sweetest, kindest, most loving person you will ever fucking be with, and this is how you treat her?

You ungrateful worm.

You’ll never find anyone better than her.

You never fucking deserved her, you twat.

Din takes every angry word spat at him with a resigned expression and downcast eyes.  Every word is true and he knows it.  He welcomes this even.  No one has been angry with him, except save himself.  Not Paz, or any of the Mandos, not even Boba.  No one has yelled at him or hurled insults at him, or called him out for the despicable person he is to have hurt you the way he did.  His sweet, pretty bird.  No, not his anymore.  He swallows every single one of Rory’s admonishments willingly and his head might even slightly nod in agreement.

Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, you fucking coward?

Arms dropping to his side in defeat, Din hangs his head and asks the only thing he wants to know, even though he's sure he isn’t allowed, “How is she?”

How is she?! What the fuck do you mean ‘how is she’? How the fuck do you think she is??

“What I mean is… I’m not still hurting her, am I?”

Silence.

“She’s okay now, right?  She hates me, but I don’t matter anymore?  She doesn’t think of me enough to still hurt her?”

Rory stops and evaluates the man standing in front of her.  He looks… broken.  She’s been throwing all her weight into every push, poke, smack she’s laid on Din and he’s taken it all.  Absorbed it along with every harsh word out of her mouth; he hasn’t fought back or even flinched - almost as if he wants her to hit him.  To scream at him.  And now, with the only words he’s spoken, he’s asking to confirm, with what almost sounds like hope, that you’ve forgotten him.  Din’s choice of words strike Rory as odd.  He wants to make sure he’s not “still hurting” you?? 

Suddenly, her mouth drops open as she retracts her hands, “… you didn’t do it.”

Din looks shocked and almost terrified.  He opens and closes his mouth several times but nothing comes out.  No denial or refute of what Rory now realizes has been completely obvious.

“You didn’t cheat on her.  You never cheated on her,” Rory’s tone is softer now, but determined and confident.  She’s leaving no room for argument, not letting Din worm his way out of the truth.

With a sigh, Din has no choice but to confess, “How could I?  Why would I ever want anyone but her?  The most perfect creature to ever exist.”  If he had seemed defeated before, Din is now positively deflating right before Rory’s eyes.

“You love her.”  Again, not a question.

“Always.  Forever.”

“Why w-”

“Rory, please.  You must never tell her.  She has to go on hating me and wanting nothing to do with me,” fear is catching up with Din now.  If Rory tells you the truth, this plan to keep you safe will unravel.

Rory’s eyes widen in disbelief, “You have to be joking.  Do you know what you put her through?  And it’s not even true??”

Quietly, Din asks, “How much has she told you and your friends about what I do?”

“That you own a gym?” Rory crosses her arms and gives Din an incredulous look.

“What else I do.  What my old job was.  Who I worked for.  Who I’m connected with,” he has to be able to make her understand.

Rory lets these words hang in the air for a moment.  No – you were always pretty tight lipped about what Din might be involved in outside of athletics.  It did seem that in the months leading up to your breakup, you would often stress over Din’s work and wellbeing, and though your friends never asked you to expand on it, it wouldn’t make sense for the responsibilities a gym owner to give you that kind of anxiety.

“You got a knife wound once.  Lala told us,” Rory recalls.

Din nods, “And that was nothing.  That’s the least of what the people who might come after me would be capable of.  She’s in danger just by being with me.”

“You wouldn’t protect her?”

“Of course, I would.  With my life.  But why should she be in danger at all?  She didn’t choose this life.”

“She chose you.”

“She shouldn’t have.”        

“You don’t get to decide that for her?!!”

Din knows that.  He shouldn’t have chosen for you.  But he made the decision that he thought would keep you safe and now you both have to live with his mistake, “I know, Rory… I know, but it’s done now.”

“Undo it, asshole.”

Like he hasn’t thought about it a million times.  Like he doesn’t wake up and his first thought when he opens his eyes in the morning isn’t to find you and crawl on his hands and knees and admit that he had fucked up in how he handled everything and beg your forgiveness.  Sometimes Din’s halfway out the door before one of two things stop him.  The first is the very real possibility that you would tell him to go to hell – you had loved him better than anyone ever had, better than he deserved, and he had callously thrown away the greatest gift ever bestowed upon him.  The second, is the very real fear from the threat made against you; Din hasn’t eliminated it and what if, just what if, what he’s doing is actually working and removing you as a worthy target?  Yes, he shouldn’t have gone about things this way, but… what if it was keeping you safe for now?

“Someone threatened her, Rory.”

This stops Rory as she’s about to open her mouth to say something else.  Closing her mouth, she studies Din and her shoulders drop, “Who?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t been able to find out who’s behind it but I will.  Until then, I have to try and make her less of a target.  Please.  Rory.  Please.  Make sure she stays away from me.  You can’t tell her any of this.”

“But… she doesn’t know?”

“No. I don’t want her to be scared.  And she is being protected - all the time, I promise.  But the safest thing for her is to stay the hell away from me.  If whoever wants to hurt me doesn’t think they can do it through her, then she’ll be safe.  Please, Rory.”

Din is begging her now.  His eyes imploring Rory to understand and decide as he once did, that your well being has to come above all, including loyalty and love.  He sees it in her eyes as she relents, much the same way his must have once upon a time, and she nods, “Okay. I won’t tell her.  And you promise she’s safe right now?”

“I promise.  I… wouldn’t be able to live like this if I couldn’t at least do that for her.”  Is it worth it?  Yes, your life, your safety is worth anything and everything to him.

“You think you can get them?  The people behind the threat?”

Din nods, “I’m sure of it.  I’ll make sure of it.  I’ll take care of it.  That’s a promise I won’t break.”

“Okay.  You should tell her afterwards though.”

“Maybe.”

“She deserves the truth, Din,” Rory gives him one last exasperated look.

“She deserves the world, Rory.”

The two of them give one another a silent nod of mutual understanding before parting ways.  They might not see eye to eye on everything, but Din trusts that your friend will put your wellbeing and safety first; she loves you just as much as he does.  Rory leaves Din behind feeling conflicted in a way she hadn’t thought possible when she confronted him earlier – the last thing she expected was to sympathize with him, but it’s become clear to her: the only person who’s been hurting more from your breakup than you, is Din.

Five Months ATN

“I want to go out with Mark.”

Four heads look up from their brunch with lighting speed to stare at you, shocked by your sudden announcement.

Feeling a bit awkward at this reception, you go on, “… I mean if he’s even still available.  And if he’s not, is there someone else at your firm that might be, Jen?”

Jen looks at you curious and hesitantly excited, “I can check, but I don’t think he’s in a relationship?  He broke up with someone a couple of months ago.  You really want me to set you up?”

You don’t catch the looks that Rory and Lala exchange before Rory cautiously asks, “Do you even like Mark?”

“Hey!” Jen looks scandalized.

You’re slightly bewildered watching your two friends seemingly stare daggers at each other, “I don’t even know Mark? I just…” 

You sigh. 

“… I just have to do something.  Try something new.  Babes, it’s been months and… I’m still not over him.”  Your friends know that the “him” in question is not Mark.

It’s been five months and you’re still in a state of melancholy and heartbreak that you can’t quite articulate.  The days where you’d cycle through extreme emotion, be it intense sadness, justifiable anger, or self-pitying shame, have long since passed.  You burned those emotional candles to their proverbial wicks and for the time that they were lit within you, they served their purpose.  You’ve processed those emotions and laid them to rest.

What remains is a type of grief, a longing from your soul that you struggle to contain on a day-to-day basis.

The best way you can think of describing it is Hiraeth – the Welsh word that conveys the feeling of “a longing for a time, place, or person that feels like home but may no longer exist or that never existed at all”; when you miss Din, it feels like a type of homesickness.  And though far from being lonely in your life, your heart nevertheless maintains an empty chamber that you are dearly afraid may be forever reserved for Din.  Your Din.  The one you had loved and thought loved you.

You miss it all - everything that had never been real: the closeness, the intimacy, the safety of Din’s embrace.  You miss the way he looked at you and made you feel like the only person in the world who mattered; you missed his adoring touch and the way that he would be soft and gentle with you when you knew he harnessed such strength and power within those same hands.  He had made you feel cherished and special, appreciated and exalted.  Yes, it had all been a lie, but you heart had believed in it and the memory of what you’ve irretrievably lost haunts you every day still.

You’ve never been one to believe the adage that to get over someone, you had to get “under” someone else and you’re certainly not looking to replace what you thought you had or even date for the sake of dating.  You’re just simply out of ideas.  You need… a distraction.  A real-life person to think about, instead of one that only ever existed in your head.

“Don’t push yourself if you’re not ready, babe,” Lala says, gently.

“I don’t want to ‘get back out there.’ I just need…”

“A rebound?” Rory’s assessment is unfortunately, spot on.

You look sheepish, “That sounds terrible.  But something like a distraction.”

Jen is hardly bothered, “It’s okay.  I won’t tell Mark but I don’t think he would mind even if he knew.  Men are weird as hell.”

Everyone laughs and you go back to your breakfast, half listening as Jen chirps some of Mark’s merits and tells you that she’s going to try and set something up for the upcoming Friday.  You don’t notice the worried and pinched looks that Lala and Rory continue to give one another for the remainder of brunch.

It’s absolutely pouring today.  The phrase ‘raining cats and dogs’ must have been inspired by a similar rainfall, you’re sure.  You hold your umbrella as close to your head as you can while deftly trying to keep your shoes dry by doing little and big hops to avoid puddles.  It’s a relief when you finally make it to the overhang in front of your office building and can shake out your umbrella before stepping inside.  Wiping your feet on the already soaked through mats that building maintenance has put down, you wonder if the weather will clear up before your date with Mark tomorrow.

You’re slipping your still dripping wet umbrella into a plastic sleeve when you hear a commotion by the security check desk.  Gabriel, the head of security is arguing with someone who by the looks of it is soaking wet and trying to get through the security turnstiles.  As you approach with your own access card already in hand, the voices get louder:

“Dude.  Come ON!”

“Miss, like I said, you have to have security access in order to move past this point.”

“I’m not going to go anywhere in the building, I promise!  I just need to get to the subway.”

“I heard you already, miss.  You’ll have to use one of the other two subway entrances.  This one is for people who have access to this building only.”

“It’s pouring!! Can’t you see?  The other two entrances are both over a block away and I’m already soaked!  I just want to get home!”

“I won’t ask again, miss.  Please leave.  There are people who need to get through.”

You’re shocked.  You’ve never heard Gabriel get frustrated or raise his voice before.  But that’s not why you’re shocked.  It’s the girl’s voice.  You know it. 

It’s Vanessa.

In some other universe you might hail this as karma, but in truth, you only have sympathy for the girl you see before you.  It really is miserable out and you’re sure that Vanessa isn’t some corporate espionage spy – she really is just asking for a little help to get out of the rain and home before she gets sick.  Without overthinking it, you come up behind her and give Gabriel a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, Gabriel, I can take her to the subway.”

Vanessa turns and looks at you with a wide-eyed, almost scared expression on her face.  You can’t help but feel bad for her.  Obviously because she’s soaking wet and shivering, but you think she must not have been met with much kindness in her young life.

“Ma’am, that’s not really protocol…”

Your reassuring smile is now extended to Vanessa as well.  You want her to know you’re here to help her, truly, “Gabriel, it’s fine.  I know her.  And, even if I didn’t, I could never let you send a woman out into that downpour when we could so easily help her get to where she needs to go, okay?”

Gabriel nods as you swipe your access card against the reader and you gesture for Vanessa to go through before you follow.

The two of you walk silently towards the subway for a few moments.

“You don’t have to…”

You wave off Vanessa’s concern, “I think Gabriel’s watching, so I’ll just walk you all the way to the subway entrance so he doesn’t give you anymore trouble, okay?”

She nods and the two of you continue on.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me.”

Your answer is genuine, “I really don’t know any other way to be towards you.”  It’s true.  Yes, Din had cheated on you with her, but you hadn’t been dating Vanessa, you had been dating Din.  He had wronged you, not her (even if she had probably been a bit smug about it).

Vanessa nods again, the expression on her face seems to relax into some kind of revelation that you don’t quite understand.  When you get to the subway entrance, the two of you pause awkwardly before she finally speaks, “Thank you.”

Again, you try to smile as kindly as you can, “It’s okay.  I meant what I said to Gabriel – I didn’t like that he was trying to send you back out in the rain.  Here.” You hold out your umbrella, still in its plastic sleeve.

Vanessa doesn’t take it, even as you continue to extend it in her direction, “I don’t know how far you have to go once you reach your stop – the rain may not have let up by then.  Really, take it.  It’s my firm’s – I have a bunch more upstairs.”

This time she does open her hands and when she grasps the umbrella’s handle to take it from you, she blurts out, “I never slept with him!”

Silence hangs between the two of you at her statement.  You don’t know what she means at all, so you just say, “I’m sorry?”

Vanessa is looking down at the umbrella in her hands, words just spilling out, “That night.  The night you ‘caught’ me and Din – you didn’t walk in on anything.  I don’t know how, but he said he knew you were coming over and he asked me if I could make it look like he and I had been sleeping together when you showed up.  We didn’t do anything.  I played on my phone on the couch until we heard you knock.  I- don’t know why I did it… actually… no, that’s a lie.  I do.”  She finally looks up at you.

“Din was so in love with you.  Like seriously, so stupid in love with you.  He hadn’t been with anyone for a while before he met you, and those of us who… had gone out with him once or twice just got used to it, I guess.  Like we wanted him but he didn’t want anyone and that was fine.  Then he met you and all of a sudden, he was the doting boyfriend, head over heals in love, showing you off to all his friends, taking you to meet Boba.  And then it was so clear: it wasn’t that he wasn’t the boyfriend type, it was you.  He only wanted you.  I guess… I was jealous.” Vanessa shrugs, ashamed, “So when the chance came up to hurt you... I jumped at it.  I’m sorry.”

To say you’re shocked would be an understatement.  There is so much to process.  You’re not sure what Vanessa is asking from you, but you do appreciate her honesty, “I mean, I guess I get why you did it.  But why did Din?”

Vanessa shrugs again, “I really don’t know, I didn’t ask.  It didn’t matter to me, I guess.  I’m sorry.  But after you left, I… propositioned him?  Thought I would shoot my shot since we were both basically half undressed.  He turned me down and practically kicked me out.  All he cared about was making sure you got home safe.  You’re all he cared about.  Always.  It was only ever you.”

“I- ” you’re speechless.  Actually speechless, “Thank you for telling me, Vanessa.  I- still don’t understand any of it, but I always appreciate honesty.  Truly.”

And with that, Vanessa gives you a little wave of the umbrella you gave her as a final thanks before she disappears down the stairs into the subway station, leaving you dumbfounded and shellshocked.

It had been a lie.

Din hadn’t cheated on you.  Not with Vanessa.  Not that night, or according to her, any other night.  You had been his one and only.  The way you had always thought.  The way he had always made you feel.

Every spiraling assumption and devastating conclusion you’ve drawn about your relationship over the past five months is now being called into question: that he never loved you, that he wasn’t the man you believed him to be, that the devotion in your relationship had been one sided.  Had it all been real?  Was your Din real?

But he had lied. 

He had made up an elaborate lie to get away from you.  To hurt you.  This revelation gives rise to feelings that you thought you had long worked through and put to bed: betrayal, hurt, disbelief, anger.  On top of this fast rising tide of emotions that you’re afraid might drown you rides a question you've never felt like you wanted the answer to when it was simply that Din was a cheater: Why?

The date is going okay, you think.  Actually, it’s going exactly how you knew it would – you’re not into it.  Mark is honestly nice enough, funny enough, charming enough – you can see why Jen was always trying to get you to go out with him.  But he’s not Din.

You haven’t told anyone about your run in with Vanessa because you still don’t know what to make of it all; you have pieces of a puzzle that you didn’t even know existed, new questions, even fewer answers, and a whole new host of confused feelings.  Unsure of your own heart, you hadn’t known what to say to Jen to cancel this date that she lovingly setup for you at your request, so here you are.

Even if your overthinking brain wasn’t in overdrive analyzing and reanalyzing everything you learned yesterday, your heart, which is still working out your feelings towards Din, has unequivocally softened.  The Din of your memories, the one for whom your heart still beats deep down had been real, and he had never betrayed you in the manner you believed for the past few months.  The love you had felt with him had been true and the affection and devotion that had been cornerstones of your relationship have started making their way back into your chest.

You feel sort of bad about Mark.  Yes, you had been very clear with Jen and yourself that this date didn’t mark any great interest of yours to start dating again, but you know you could be putting in more of an effort on this date.  You try.  You really do.

After the pre-dinner drinks are finished and the waiter’s taken your dinner order, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, hoping for a few minutes alone to gather your thoughts.  Heading towards the bathrooms, you walk down a hall that opens to the restaurant’s private party rooms on one side.  All the doors are opened and you peek in to see that most of the rooms are empty, one of them being cleared from a large party that must have just left; when you get to the last doorway, you’re stopped dead in your tracks when you see who's inside.

It's Din.

He’s leaning back in a chair that’s been placed further back and away from the dining table that must centre the room; part of the meeting but not an active participant – a perimeter guard.  His handsome profile is as striking as you remember; his strong aquiline nose and cut jawline that’s currently flexing as he swallows hold your attention by their very existence - how is he here just when all your thoughts happen to be of him?  Din’s chocolate brown eyes are fixed on someone or something in the room, but he must feel your gaze because he turns and sees you – keeping his expression neutral, as if he doesn’t want anyone else in the room to notice you, you still see his eyes soften as they lock with yours and your heartbeat picks up a little.

Hi, you mouth shyly.

Hi, Din's lips curve up slightly at your sweet expression as he mouths back, you look nice.

You do too, because he does.  He’s in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and jet-black tie; the monochromatic look works for him.  Din’s slicked back hair is different – you’re so much more used to seeing his curls loose and tousled, but the change isn’t unwelcomed.  He looks professional.  Devastating.

Work?  Your head tilts a little so you can see a little further in the room and Din knows you see Paz sitting in front of him wearing a nearly identical outfit.  He nods, You?

Date.

Din nods slightly, eyes unreadable, Be safe.

I will. Not sure how much more you can communicate this way or even what you want to say, you give Din a little wave before continuing down the hall to the restroom.

---

Din cannot sit still.

Date? You were on a date?

But that’s not even the most jarring thing about seeing you unexpectedly tonight at the same restaurant where Boba’s holding a family meeting.  What’s really turning Din’s world upside down is that you didn’t look upset to see him.  Your expression was soft, kind and inviting.  As if you didn’t hate him. 

You’re over him.  That has to be it.  You were over him, wholly and completely; much too sweet to hold onto any malice towards him, you had treated him politely, like an old acquaintance.  He wants to be glad – happy that you’re no longer hurting and that his transgressions against you didn’t leave a permanent mark on your beautiful soul.  But his heart feels like it’s made of lead; dropping from his chest into his stomach when he thinks of you being on a date.  Din gets up and takes a walk towards the main dining room of the restaurant, looking to satisfy his morbid curiosity.

He sees you right away.  Your back is to him, but he knows its you.  You sit across from a perfectly respectable looking man dressed in a sharp suit – the both of you clearly having come straight from work.  The man probably has some smart corporate job like you, like a lawyer or someone who underwrites space rockets or something cool.  The man is making you laugh; Din can tell by the way your shoulders shake.  He imagines your smile and the way that your eyes crinkle when you think something is super funny but you don’t want to let loose one of those melodic laughs of yours where you throw back your head and the resulting song carries over the crowd.  Din watches as you swirl your wine glass the way he always thought was super adorable, with two of your fingers pressed against the base of the glass stem, before you lift those same fingers to make a gesture with your hand that indicates you’re adding to your date’s story with some witty comment of your own.  Your date’s face lights up and his look of admiration and joy from the pleasure of your company is one that Din knows well. 

He decides can’t watch anymore and slinks back down the hallway; heart ripped to pieces, leaving you to your pleasant evening.

Thanks so much for being patient with me - these chapters are emotionally hard to write and even harder to edit 😅 Since I'm once again yeeting this into universe on a random day instead of my usual posting date, adding a few tags for those who have expressed an interest in the story (omigod if you don't want to be tagged, please tell me!):

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo

[aquatic-armageddons]

HAVE A SEAT

MICHAEL MYERS X FEM!READER

[CW]: body dysmorphia, mature/sexual themes, not thoroughly proofread

Planning an eventful evening with close friends was supposed to be fulfilling, something worth looking forward to. That also entailed the anticipation of showing off the sexy, little numbers everyone's got on.

But in this instance, Y/N felt nothing short of a shameful and discouraging body.

Shedding as much weight in quick succession (before the aforementioned event) wasn't something that could be done. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with Y/N, she just had some extra meat on her bones. Though her friends tried to reassure her that weight was just a number and nothing to be shallow about, it still didn't change the fact she felt insecure, and it especially didn't stop her from cancelling last minute.

Y/N continued staring at herself in the mirror, expressionless. As she tried to wrack her brain for a reason to let go of her insecurities, and finally focus on something other than groping her rolls, a large figure slowly approached from behind.

"Jesus Christ, Michael! You scared the mess outta me!" Y/N jumped, turning around with a cute scowl on her face.

Michael tilted his head to the side, as if to ask about her depressed state. Y/N begrudgingly let out a sigh of slight irritation, not wanting to rope him into her superficial dilemma.

"Do I look...fat?" She squeaked, shrinking into herself. God, this was beyond humiliating.

Y/N was greeted with the usual head tilt and blank stare combo. Why had she even bothered to ask?

"Sorry, I guess I'm just being dramatic..."

After what seemed like forever, Michael shuffled past her, laying himself in their shared bed. Pulling his mask over his head, he stares lazily into her e/c eyes.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. Although this wasn't her first time seeing his natural features, she'd never get past it. How can such a ruthless, cold-blooded killer be so striking?

"Um, Michael? What are you-"

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. He surely wasn't going to have her do that, right?

"Michael, there's no way I'm trying that kind of thing! I don't wanna be responsible for breaking your neck!" She exclaimed.

Michael huffed in frustration. Leaping from the bed, he clutched the knife sitting on the bedroom drawer. In several swift motions, he cut Y/N's clothes off of her, exposing her every curve, every stretch mark, the whole shabang. Grabbing her bottom jaw, he pulls her towards the bed and lays himself down to his previous position, but with her also straddling his waist.

Grunting, he glared daggers at her, silently not accepting no for an answer. Y/N's face burned with embarrassment, her eyes prickling with tears.

"P-Please, Michael...I don't want to-"

She felt his strong hands grasp her thighs hard, and forcefully pull her towards his face. How does he have the strength for that??

"Hey don't- oh fuuuck!"

Y/N felt a white, hot pleasure envelop her stomach as Michael's tongue breached her lower regions. She tried with all her might to scoot away, but his grip on her legs held her still on his face. Y/N didn't want to allow her moans to escape her mouth, as she knew the slightest sound would only further encourage the bastard.

"Goddammit, Michael...!"

Fighting him was a wasted effort at this point. Y/N shifted and rolled her hips on Michael's lips, prompting him to growl in pleasure, the vibrations sending shock through her pussy. Moans finally escaped her maw, tears streamed down her cheeks and she gave in to her pleasure at last. Trying to chase her high, she continuously grinded on Michael's face, faster and faster. The climax was quickly coming to a head, as a wave of shock ran down her body.

"Ah, Michael~!"

Her hips shook as she came violently in Michael's mouth. His tree trunk arms still held her firmly in place, him not wanting to waste a single drop of her essence. Y/N was spent, head reeling with what just happened.

Michael soon pushed her off of him and laid Y/N to his side, her snuggling his arm on instinct. He may act like he's not the 'cuddle after sex' type of man, but he couldn't help but think she was adorable for doing just that.

Regardless, if this was his way of reassuring Y/N that she is perfect the way she is, who was she to complain?

[igetnosleep]

The Night We Met

Second attempt at angst might try again with the next one. I'm glad you all liked "Finally home" I guess you people were rabid for something soft..makes me feel like I hold power here lmao. Also this is connected to "Finally Home" and "Comfort" since those kind of inspired me to write this...Strangers to Lovers cause I like that shit.

So canon typical violence (it's RE so not surprising) and happy reading!

You didn’t like Leon.

Maybe it was the situation or the fact that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him after you managed to escape Raccoon City but you didn’t want to stay away from him.

You’d so happen to meet the stupid blonde when you nearly bludgeoned him with a rusty pipe in the darkened halls of the police station. Too many fucking rooms too many of the undead trying to crawl through the windows, not enough sleep in your system to get through the night that seemed never ending.

All of this happening in the span of a day or two.

You’d seen your friend die in front of you by one of those..things. Now here you were with a man you’d just met who was supposed to be a cop.

“Come on, aren't you a cop?!” You hissed hearing the groans and shuffling through the halls as he held your hand like he was trying to guide you. You’d be kicking and screaming if it didn’t mean certain death. Leon only shrugged, looking to the side almost nervously under your scrutinizing gaze, “It’s my first day.” 

You blinked, staring at him, “The fuck did you just say?” you whispered a bit too quietly, too calmly for his liking. Leon didn’t need to turn around to see your face; he could feel your piercing gaze against his temple, almost debating if you should take him out with you.

“I said-”

“I know what you just said.” 

“Then why did you-” 

“Leon, I'm going to hit you if you don’t shut up.”

He promptly kept his mouth shut until you deemed it okay.

Leon didn’t have survival instincts like you’d expect him to. Always eager to help, always sticking to the rules, you’d even tried to reason with him but he wasn’t swayed, if it weren’t for the fact that you were in the middle of the apocalypse, you’d admire him, but you’d almost hit him before you jumped at the sight of the man on the other side of the jail cell turn into a bloody pulp by the..whatever it was as it walked away.

You never considered yourself kind, some of the things you did while finding a place to hide out would be considered heartless. You accepted that you’d never get into heaven, your tongue having spewed more blasphemy in your life time that you were sure that Saint Peter would smile kindly before pushing you down into the lake of fire before disinfecting his hands and going back to his post.

Leon believed in an afterlife. He liked to believe that his parents were somewhere better, somewhere kinder than the life that they were given. Something more peaceful than the death they had lived.

“You speak from experience?” You asked him, earning an expression you could only read as shame from him, you could picture the dog ears pressed against his head. The way he looked like he wanted to cry maybe it was him missing home, you didn’t blame him, you wanted to go home too. You sighed not imagining that this was how you’d spend the apocalypse squeezing the hand of a rookie cop in an attempt to tell him that it would be okay?

The halls of the police station and the foreboding dread in your gut, Leon was a good distraction from the constant stream of fear. You’d squeezed his hand and tried to imagine something better than whatever was trying to kill you at the moment.

You didn’t like Leon, you found him cute, like a puppy it was hard not to look at him and forgive him right away. His face was soft, eyes wide and hopeful. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you wanted to pet him. You obviously wouldn’t because hello you just met the guy. He felt soft too, healthy and still had his baby fat.

He reminded you of a golden retriever, maybe even a labrador. Dogs were nice to think about. Now imagining him with dog ears made you smile a bit. A small bit of peace one he gave you while he was flattered by the attention you gave him he never admitted it though. With cheeks tinted red “That would be embarrassing.” the rookie cop thought to himself.

Leon liked you. Maybe more than he could admit at the moment. Maybe because he latched onto you faster than a baby chick would to the first thing it saw. He liked the way you latched onto him recalling the way Marvin side-eyed him reminding him to keep his head on a swivel. “Just because you found someone doesn’t mean you can have your head in the clouds, understand?” a quick “Yes, sir.” from him and he pulled you along with him.

Was that the selfish thing to do?

Drag a civilian along with him?

You were pretty, yes, he would never deny it, the way you did things the hard way because it was the only thing you could think of at the moment. But it did make him smile when he bothered you about it.

You looked cute when you pouted, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. “Shut up. It was the only thing I could think of.” you whined as he laughed. 

Why’d he have to look like a ray of sunshine? Why’d he have to make you feel..happy?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You don’t.

“What did you do before this?” he asked curiously while you were stuck in one of the rooms waiting for the undead to pass by, his voice cutting you out of your thoughts. You looked up from the ground humming in thought.

“Tax fraud.” 

“Seriously?”

“No, you big goof. I was a barista, worked in a coffee shop, over…somewhere.” 

He noted the way your hand waved dismissively down the street from the police station right he noticed it from the fence. He fumbled around with his gun for a moment pretending to check the magazine while he pondered, maybe if he’d been here just a week early. 

Maybe he would have met you, how would you look when you smiled or laughed at a joke. 

He pushed the magazine back into place, shaking himself out of his thoughts. A weight settling on his shoulder had him tense, turning and looking over at you seeing you lean on his shoulder. Leon relaxed a small smile playing on his lips as he admired you. 

You leaned on him, your body relaxing just a moment as he offered his shoulder, he was thoughtful, you liked that about him. His hand came up to your back and gently rubbed circles between your shoulders. “You’re doing great.” he hummed, leaning his forehead against yours, you could only glare weakly as he was using those stupid puppy eyes on you. You poked the soft pudge hiding under the bulletproof vest. “Shut up.”

A small bit of silence left you two relaxed momentarily forgetting about the shuffling and the random thumps and bumps against the door.

Ada was someone you didn’t trust, she spoke to the point but in circles, never willing to give you a straight answer. In all honesty, if it were any other day if it didn’t feel like the world was ending, you’d be fawning over her like some sort of moron.

For fucks sake she was wearing heels during a zombie outbreak you internally felt yourself putting her on a pedestal practically forgetting about survival and choosing to trust this woman who looked like she was coming out of a fashion catalog.

Noticing your staring Ada, snapped her fingers at you and you stood in attention feeling your face burn in embarrassment. Great, now you look stupid in front of the pretty lady.

Leon didn’t hide his admiration for her, you couldn’t blame him, she had an air of confidence, independence, a person who you wanted to be with but couldn’t attain.

She was mildly amused by your poor attempts at flirting “You’d have better luck telling Leon those jokes of yours.” She hummed as you helped bandage her leg. You only looked confused “What do you mean?” “Come on, you're practically clinging to him giving him those eyes,” She gestured vaguely to your face, you’d still stared at her confused, she rolled her eyes staring at you in disbelief “You’re telling me you don’t like him?” You snort hearing it echo through the sewer “No.” she didn’t seem amused with you.

The train leading away from the city was melancholic and frankly bittersweet, you made it. Somehow you survived just when you were about to leave a note or something for someone to find on your corpse. Leon looked somewhat satisfied relaxing as he just leaned on your shoulder as the train went on towards an unknown location.

His hand gripped yours, fingers interlacing, a nap sounded perfect at the moment. His body was screaming for rest and you felt like a small piece of heaven. Your thumb swiped over his knuckles. “Go on. I’ll wake you up when we stop, okay?” He couldn’t say no to that.

The woman, Claire, stared at you from the corner of her eye. A clear need of an explanation was visibly wanting to pry you for an explanation.

“We met in the police station.” She deflated sitting down on the ground next to…Sherry? Her name was? Yeah she introduced herself to you almost enthusiastically in her tired state, fell asleep like a rock to the insistence of you and Claire. “Sorry we arrived in the city together and we got separated. I thought something happened to him.” She admitted their relationship, acquaintances, “Something almost happened, I almost hit him with a pipe.” Claire felt bad that she laughed at that.

The train stopped a few hours later and once you all reached civilization it was time to go your separate ways. Claire was looking for someone and whatever happened down in Umbrella she looked determined to investigate it. 

You understood why but after everything, you just wanted to suppress the memories and go on with your life and you agreed to take in Sherry. Claire looked like she felt bad but you waved her off, “I’ve got like five cousins her age. She’ll be fine.” you assured the redhead as she hugged you, she didn’t look like she was the maternal type anyway, she was younger from what you gathered about her talking about her brother. 

She should be able to find him without worrying about the safety of someone else.

A brief glance around your shoulder saw Leon looking exhausted, the mental fortitude he had to not break down crying was worrisome. You couldn’t blame him. You felt the same, what do you do in that situation now that you had to look after someone, you couldn’t cry or scream. No, Sherry wouldn’t react well to a breakdown. 

You offered your hand to the little girl and she hesitantly accepted as Leon led the way with a hand on your back as you managed to find a military base ahead.

Looking back, a part of him wished he had been more vigilant, maybe he could have protected you and Sherry. Instead you were both dragged off somewhere with blindfolds over your eyes. He fought against the men screaming at them to bring both of you back only to get a whack to the back of his head and he was out like a light. 

Leon woke up after the men had separated from both of you. Heart pounding his breathing erratic as a man in front of him commended him for making it out of Raccoon City alive. “Rookie with a hell of a first day.” wearing a crooked smile that made his stomach turn. 

Where were you? Were you okay? Did they hurt you?

They made him an offer. An ultimatum. They didn’t really give him much of a choice.

You had been sitting alone clutching Sherry close afraid of the men surrounding you, hands close to their weapons and their eyes wandering staring trying to get a read on you. Your leg bounced the heel of your shoe clicking against the ground, you were sweating bullets, heart beating rapidly. 

You tried to calm down. Nothing was working.

When you saw Leon again after what felt like hours you practically ran up and hugged him, his arms wrapping around you squeezing you so close you almost missed the way he was shaking. His face buried in your neck fingers curling around your shirt wrinkling the already ruined fabric. He only pulled away to kiss your shoulder whispering apologies into your skin. “I’m sorry.” 

It was like you blinked and he was gone, gone to whatever new hell they’d introduce him to. The government relocated you and Sherry, not together I’m afraid. 

You tried to live life like normal but nothing got rid of the nightmares. Dates ran away from your screaming like roaches to sudden exposure to light. New forms of comfort taken from scalding hot showers and wrapping yourself in blankets galore. You nabbed a pitbull from some dumpster. It didn’t seem to matter.

A part of you wanted Leon back. Someone who understood you, someone who'd give you a shoulder to cry on at the moment. You were ashamed to admit that you needed him so bad. It was only one night. One fucking night he didn’t sleep with you. Not like that anyway. Why did you feel so strongly for that dumb blond?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You didn’t.

Six years later you saw Leon again.

Standing at your door looking different from the rookie cop you met that night.

A frozen look of shock on your face as you stared at him.

Your mouth felt dry, your blood went cold.

Oh fuck.

You liked Leon.

[hedonists-den]

Not really a POV for this one. Just sharing some musings and a scenario where I condition you to be a mindless, pleasure/hunger-driven fatty!

Enjoy! 💜

TRANSCRIPT:

There’s a part of me that wants to make sure you always have more than enough food, no matter what, at all times. A good, doting feeder that doesn’t ask anything of you.

But every now and then, there’s this urge to give you just shy of enough. I know how much you really need, but I want you to tell me how you're still hungry even after all I've fed you. I want you to hear yourself admit to me that you need more, even when you’ve eaten more than the average person could. But will you admit it? I suppose it depends on how long you've been mine. 

When you first start this hedonistic life that I offer you, I can imagine you're shy about it. Timid about your rapidly increasing appetite. Or, maybe you’re a brat about it. Can’t accept giving up control so easily. Either way, you’re hesitant to lose yourself to it just yet. You're dipping your feet in, but you worry about what might happen if you fully accept your life as a domestic glutton.

But when you're sitting there, in the aftermath of the first round of gorging yourself one night, you can't help but want more. Your greed is undeniable. You don't want to admit it, but you can't stop yourself this time. You’re just too hungry for more. You ask me for a second full meal, just after your first. 

"I guess enough food for two people isn't enough for you, is it?"

I drink in the adorably embarrassed look on your face as you squirm over what a greedy little pig you’ve admitted that you are. It may not seem like a big deal this time, but you’ve taken the first step, and there’s no going back. Not now that there’s precedent.

The next time, I’m a little more direct about it. You finish your second meal, as you’ve become accustomed to, and I have dessert ready for you. But you don’t get it that easily this time. 

“Ask nicely,” I demand. 

You look up at me. I can practically feel how badly you want the tray of brownies in my hands. Homemade, warm and soft, still a little gooey in the middle, your favorite. You ask for them, even adding a sweet little “please” at the end. I reach down and grip your belly roll. 

“Again,” I urge, fondling your pretty gut.

You ask again, very nicely, through heaving breaths. I decide that’s good enough, give your belly a nice pat, and set the tray on it. You start digging in immediately. Like a hog at the trough. You’re getting more and more willing to do whatever I ask, so long as you can feel the rush of complete indulgence. 

But I want to make sure that the sensation doesn’t stop at just a rush. It has to be a deeper craving. More primal. More intense.

So when I began slipping my hand under your mound of a gut, between those cellulite-ridden thunder thighs of yours, and pleasuring you for every bite you take, oh you started really packing on weight, didn’t you? And there hasn’t been a feast since where you weren’t stimulated the whole way through. I admit, I never let you cum until I’m satisfied with how full you are, but you never disappoint, and you always earn it. 

It’s like you’ve had this in you all along. You just needed the right person to enable you and push you to be the best hedonist that you could be. Sure, I play the part of the good feeder a majority of the time. But I think we owe it to the dominant feeder in me for how desperate you are to eat and grow now. And I want to see just how fat you’ll let me make you.

[crystalandparrot]

The Hardest Trial

A Gravity Falls Reader Insert

Part 1: The Frilly Guy Upstairs

Bill is OOC!! He will be growing as a character that he probably wouldn't otherwise and if you have a problem with it, don't read. It's not a romantic story, it's just what I thought would happen if he was FORCED into this situation. This is an insert, I was gonna make it into an OC, but I don't know if people want that. If you do, I'll switch it up. Enjoy :)

"Look, from one God to another, who cares I tried to kill those brothers? They're all ants, it's all a game. Let's press restart and try again! I'm too cool and fun to die, just give this angle one more Tri."

With a sigh, the AXOLOTL spoke, "You cannot regrow through denial. You'll have to face my hardest trial. See my program to the end then you may yet live again."

Bill laughed, pain erupting through his body as he giggled. "What? Am I fighting demons? Eating ghosts?"

"You're getting what you need the most. One way to absolve your crimes. To change your form will take some time." The AXOLOTL blinked slowly.

Bill felt a white, tingly feeling start at his feet and crawl up. Bill couldn't believe his luck! Man this salamander was an idiot! All he had to do was fake a tear or too and he was home free! Whatever kind of challenge it was Bill could handle it! He was UNDEFEATED in combat, there's no way he wouldn't win. With a joyful expression, Bill shook the AX's hand. It was a deal!

X ilkb zefia ibcq tfqelrq zxob

Obsbxiba ql yb x clodlqqbk ebfo

Vlr jrpq molqbzq rkqfi peb'p lc xdb

Lkiv qebk zxk vlr jxhb qeb buzexkdb

For the first time in his existence, Bill was awoken peacefully with quiet music. He sluggishly blinked his eye opened—popping it open when he felt a squeeze around his body. Frantically, Bill looked around, pupil narrowing on a chubby arm hugging him to a small, plushy body—a baby.

"WHAT?!" Bill shouted suddenly, ripping himself from the chubby arms of the sleeping infant. As suspected, the baby began to cry from the unpleasant disturbance. Its arms reached out, looking for its angular cuddle buddy in desperation. Fat tears rolled down the round, rosy cheeks while wails of sadness left the lips of the baby in front of Bill.

Without warning, the door burst open and in ran two humans, both frantic and sweaty. Bill recognized one of these humans, the taller woman who was holding a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. He supposed the other female was her wife or spouse of some sort, a shorter female who's eyes glanced around for any possible threat to the infant's physical form, completely on edge with a golf club in hand.

"Peri, it's fine, the baby probably just had a nightmare." The taller female walked to the crib, breath still slightly uneven.

"Well, well, well, nice to finally meet you face to face Raindrop! The name's Bill—"

"Look, she's fine." The taller female held up the baby gently.

Bill blinked at the woman and briefly flushed red, "Look, lady, I don't take kindly to being ignored—"

"Yeah, I guess." The shorter female (Peri, if Bill recalled correctly) dropped the club and approached the two humans.

"Mindscape. It's still the Mindscape..." Bill said flatly. He closed his eye and rubbed the eyelid, much like how Ford used to rub the bridge of his nose when his glasses started to hurt. "Alright, I can work with Mindscape. I just have to enter a mind of an innocent, impressionable being and influence them to forever serve their one lord and master for all eternity." Bill snapped his fingers, "Piece of cake."

Hearing a giggle, Bill's pupil shot over to the small human that was being gently placed in the crib. He floated over to the crib, joining the parents gazing upon the chubby flesh bag. Once Bill peered over the railing, the baby's eyes shot to him and a large, boneless smile stretched on the baby's fat cheeks. With "grabby" hands to Bill, the baby began forming the letter B and mimicking the sound of said letter.

"Aww, you want your Baba?" The tall woman asked, giving the baby a yellow pacifier. The baby took it gratefully and dropped its arms, but its eyes still stared intensely at Bill.

"Okay, get some sleep, sunspot." The smaller woman kissed the infant on the cheek and began walking out of the room with her partner. "Have you talked to your mom recently?"

"Last week. I have to call her again today, maybe invite her over."

"That'd be nice, I miss Shermie."

Bill was more preoccupied with this infant than the conversation, wondering why this thing of ALL beings in the universe could see him while he lacked a physical form. Soon enough the round doe eyes of the infant closed, its constant sucking on the pacifier lulling it to sleep with comforting familiarity. Only once Bill could hear even breathing from the baby that he could give himself the will to float away.

There had to be something that explained why he was there...but as Bill searched room by room, phasing through walls and drawers for some semblance of a clue, his hope began to die down. Maybe this was the AX's trial, figuring out why he's here. This wasn't Gravity Falls (not that Bill minded, he'd prefer not to be encased by the natural weirdness laws...again), which meant he was no where near his old form, so why?

Bill peeked into the living room, seeing the two women cuddling on the pastel yellow couch, not his favorite shade, but they had nice taste. They were looking into a large family album. They looked to be halfway through it, a picture of Sixer's college gradutation, the nerd was standing there with his PhD(s) in hand and a large stupid smile on his cheeks. Next were two pictures, one of the T.V with Stanley presenting the "Rip-off", the next was an arm, red and splotchy, with the words underneath, 'It gave me rashes'.

"You ever think about calling?" Peri asked, glancing up at her spouse from the spot on her shoulder.

"Sometimes, but I haven't spoken to anyone from that side of my family since my Uncle Stanley died." The taller spouse turned the page. It was a baby picture with the words, "Our little Sunspot : August 30th, 2004"...that was the baby that was currently sleeping in the crib...but that could only mean...

Bill quickly glanced around the room and flew towards the kitchen when he found it. He looked around and finally spotted a classic human time tracker-a calendar. The date most recently crossed off was February 20th, 2005. So either Bill was dealing with some people who really needed to update their decor...

Or Bill went back in time.

[geekthefreakout]

The Joy Leaving the Work

This post will be discussing the works of Neil Gaiman and my personal relationship with them. If you don't like that or cannot handle that, kindly don't read. Also, there will be allusions to SA in the discussions.

So, a couple of weeks ago I decided to pick up Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman-- a book I've owned for a couple of years that's been in my "to read pile" waiting its turn. In the light of the allegations against Gaiman, I put off reading it a couple of months more as I tried to process how I felt. Now I've read it.

Background: Neil Gaiman has been my favorite author bar none ever since I read Coraline in 5th Grade. He and Sir Terry Pratchett share a bookshelf of honor in my room- the one right behind my bed, so I can easily reach for a comfort read. I've always loved his twists on various stories-- The Graveyard Book and Neverwhere being two of my favorites. The dark-but-not-too-dark tone, the dry humor, the magical realism, all of it. Anansi Boys looked like it would have all of that.

And it did! In a vacuum, this would have been a very enjoyable read. But with the allegations, I noticed things that I wouldn't have before. For example (spoilers, I guess):

Mr. Nancy (the titular Anansi) is a funny old man, and often a bit lecherous. In his final moments, he's doing karaoke with some young, buxom blondes when he has a heart attack and falls off the stage, hand outstretched. As he goes down, he sticks his hand out, grabbing one girl's tube top and exposing her as he dies.

This anecdote in the book is presented as something that embarrasses his son (our protag) but is generally interpreted by the other characters as something that was just so funny and charming.

It made me uncomfortable. In fact, just about every time Mr. Nancy alluded to his Master Roshi-like interest in buxom young women, I felt uncomfortable. But wait, there's more:

Spider (secret twin brother of protag Fat Charlie) is interested in Fat Charlie's fiancee. He tricks her into thinking that he IS Fat Charlie, and this girl who had been saving her virginity til marriage is so taken by him that they have sex. Meaning not only did he entice the girl to sex under false circumstances (this is rape), but it's also unclear as to how much of her going along with him is really HER and how much is his... mojo, I suppose. To the story's credit, once she realizes what has happened she gets angry and breaks up with both of them, no longer wanting anything to do with them... until, of course, happenstance brings them together again and she admits that she had real feelings for Spider, who finds himself wanting to behave better for her.

That doesn't sit right with me in the best of circumstances. These are not the best of circumstances.

I finished the book and it took me this long- two weeks and change- to decide how I feel about it. And how I feel about it is this-- I cannot separate it from the author. I cannot enjoy this book because the slime from Gaiman's actions oozes all over it. And that sucks.

I'm almost afraid to reread my favorites from him, for fear that my happy memories of those books will be ruined too. That SUCKS.

And it makes me feel dumb for never having seen the misogyny in the books before. It's like when Rowling showed herself to be what she was and I couldn't enjoy Harry Potter anymore, but worse because Gaiman is an author that I was still actively reading, who had been vocally supportive of queer and trans people, who I'd still looked up to. When it all went down with Rowling, I realized that I'd been excusing a lot of problematic shit in her writing as ignorance, rather than malice. But it WAS malice. And now I'm wondering if I didn't make the same mistake with Gaiman. That sucks too.

Anyway. That's my rant. Thanks for listening. Please share if you're having issues like this too, it's good to not feel alone.

[afterhourwriting]

Man, it’s been a while…

….

Here’s a TF2 Fic I made a while ago for Wattpad! :D

-

TL;DR: The reader and Sniper don’t particularly enjoy each other and are locked in a crate by a BLU Soldier. Hijinks and boners ensue. Also, beware of my obsession with commas. This is kind of short for me

─━━━━━━⊱༻ ⚪️ ༺⊰━━━━━━─

“I know you don’t particularly enjoy touching, but I think it’s a little bit too late for that.” Finding yourself locked in a heavy crate that had a sentry on top with a man that smelt like gunpowder, sweat and piss was not what you thought was going to happen today. Your sentence didn’t get a response, all you heard was a simple grumble and the sound of the BLU Soldier celebrating that he captured you.

You tried to adjust as best as you could but- “Sniper, move your fat ass out of the way!” “My fat ass? That’s bloody rich. I can’t move anymore than you can, drongo!” His chest was heavy against yours, his hands carefully placed by your head. Meanwhile, underneath him, your legs were pressed against his waist and your hands were trying to keep the man’s body as far from yours as possible. “Why you of all people? I’d much rather be stuck in here with Scout.”

“Careful what ya wish for, sheila. Now quiet down so I can think.” Sniper grumbled in your ear as his musk filled your senses. The silence was deafening and you could practically hear your heart beating in your head. As claustrophobic as it was, you tried to take your mind off of the situation by thinking of what you might do when you get out. Make some tea? Maybe cook something up to eat? Noodles sound so good right-… what the fuck was pressing into you? You’d reach down and try to feel it out if you weren’t already suspicious and if there was enough room.

Your lips parted to speak, but god knows that even if you asked him you did NOT want to know the answer. “Mick?” “What’s it now?” “Tell me that’s just a pistol in your pocket and not… tell me you just brought in a gun from outside?”

…

THE SILENCE. ISN’T. HELPING.

“MICK! You are so GROSS.” You shouted in disgust, now kicking at his legs as if that’s going to do… anything. It’s the thought that counts though. “Oi! Can’t kick me; ‘s basic human biology. I’m weak! Y’got on bloody tights for Christ’s sakes, what ‘m I supposed to do?!” Mick yelled back, grabbing at your ankles to try and keep you from kicking anymore. “DON’T. BE. DISGUSTING! Get away from me, asshole!”

“WHERE THE HELL AM I GONNA GO?!”

Your commotion was loud, no doubt, and it lightly shook the crate you two were unfortunately locked in. What wasn’t apparent was that you were quickly gathering an audience. “I SWEAR, if they don’t kill us, I’m killing you MYSELF, MUNDY!” “Big. Fucking. Talk! You act like you ain’t never given a man a stiffy!”

A few of the BLU team had surrounded the crate, including Soldier who seemed very proud of himself. He’s got two of the RED team, he’s got intelligence, today was a good day. For him anyways. “Well, they sound friendly, don’t they?” Spy muttered in annoyance, practically plugging his ears as your fight continued on.

─━━━━━━⊱༻ ⚪️ ༺⊰━━━━━━─

A/N: I had fun writing this. Also little “glossary” here for those that didn’t study up on Australian slang that is a totally normal thing to do and can’t make educated guessed (it’s okay, you’re still a wonderful reader)

Drongo: “Idiot” or “Stupid fellow”

Sheila: Coming from the Irish name Síle, which was exclusively used for women, sheila is considered a mild Australian slang insult for “girl” or “woman”

Stiffy is self explanatory, guys. Come on.

[bigification]

Jealousy Jealousy

Strong, loyal, dedicated. All words used by the boss to describe me, and every word seemed like a knife in the back of my roommate. I can hear it in the way he talks to me, ever since I joined the military all he ever seems to be is jealous. I've always been stronger and more dedicated than him, he's smarter but that doesn't even matter that much.

The walk back to our room is awkward. It is completely silent and I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. I wanted so badly to be friends with him, but he makes it impossible. I've always worked out and kept my body in good shape, and apparently that's unforgivable to him.

We get back to our room and he immediately goes rummaging through his stuff. I pace back and forth, debating whether I should talk to him. It's hard living with him and I just want things to be civil between us.

"Hey man, I wanted to ta-" I'm interrupted when he quickly swings around and jabs something into my stomach. I look down and see a needle sticking into the side of my stomach. I feel frozen with fear, I can't talk, almost as if there is something stuck in my throat. I let out a groan as he pushes the end of the needle, injecting a green liquid into my body.

"I'm tired of being in your shadow, let's see how long you'll last after this." He monologues like some cartoon villain. What does he even mean by that, was that some kind of poison? Is he killing me just because the boss likes me more.

I stumble back against the wall, I feel weak but it hurts less than I thought it would. Although my stomach feels like it's boiling.

Am I dreaming... It feels more like a nightmare. But it must be a nightmare. I see a lump form under my shirt, and it seems to grow every time I blink. It can't be real, but it feels so real. The lump grows until it looks like I have a little belly. Do I have a belly? It's growing faster and faster until my shirt becomes untucked. It finally stops after growing into a sizable beer belly, making it impossible for me to see my feet. Maybe he gave me drugs, maybe this is just a bad trip. But it feels so real.

It doesn't end with the beer belly. Next my pecs start to swell. Something I worked so hard on is gone in seconds. I see them soften into a pair of man tits, growing until they press against my shirt. I always swore I would never let myself go like my father did, but I guess that's a lie. At least it took him until his thirties to get fat, I can't even make it to my late twenties without pigging out.

I still have no idea what's happening to me. It's getting harder and harder to think. I was thinking about... Something about pigging out. It must be because I love pigging out, that's how I got this belly.

As I'm trying to think, my body continues to grow. I hear the button on my pants pop off and feel the pressure release. I think my ass is growing, not that I mind. I feel my body being pushed further and further away from the wall as fat spilled into my ass.

Why does my crotch feel so tight? I could have sworn it didn't feel this tight a moment ago. I don't really care anyway, I can't even remember why I should care.

My pants strain against the fat filling my legs, I think I can even hear some rips tearing through them. My arms follow suit, softening up my defined muscles and fattening up my hands. Better off that way if you ask me, fatter hands means better belly rubs, and I like belly rubs.

I feel an itchiness engulf my body as a thick pelt of hair covers my skin. My arms, my legs, my chest, and most importantly my belly become a forest of sweaty hair.

My body finally relaxed and I let out a loud burp. Oh... I'm so hungry. I rub my belly trying to get any relief. It's all I can think of. Wasn't I stressed about something? What would I have been stressed about, maybe I was just hungry.

"How ya feeling big guy?" My roommate asks me.

"I'm so hungry." I cry out.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a diet?" He teases me.

"Why the fuck would I be on a diet. This is the mark of a true man!" I say as I slap my gut.

"Well I'm sure this box of donuts won't hurt your fitness assessment next week, and they won't eat themselves." He pulls out a dozen donuts. It feels like I lose control of my body as I instinctively ravage the donuts.

I lean back after finishing off the last donut and let out a loud burp. God I'm stuffed, but I want so much more. I rub my belly, trying to process the snack I just had, so I can make room for more.

"There's plenty more where that came from, big guy."

Credits to bulkgainer92 for the video and for inspiring this story.

[assexpansion]

"Claire? Oh my God! Claire Byers, right? Is that you? Do you remember me?"

I never thought I would see her again. It had been years since we last crossed paths. But there she was, standing in front of me, looking as stunning as ever. Her perfectly toned body and flawless skin made me feel self-conscious about my chubby body. As I nervously adjusted my jeans, I could feel her piercing gaze scanning me from head to toe.

'Wow, look at you. You've certainly put on a few pounds, huh?' she said with a smirk.

I could feel my cheeks turning red as I tried to come up with a response. But before I could say anything, she continued, 'I mean, I remember when you used to be so skinny. What happened?'

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew I had gained weight, but to have someone point it out so bluntly was humiliating. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused to let her see how much her words had affected me.

'I guess... life happened,' I replied, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.

She let out a fake laugh and said, 'Well, I guess some people just can't handle the pressures of adulting.'

I wanted to scream at her, to tell her that she had no idea what I had been through. But instead, I just smiled and nodded, pretending like her words didn't bother me. Deep down, I knew that she was right. I had let myself go, and seeing her perfect figure only amplified my insecurities.

But then something strange happened. As she continued to make snide comments about my weight, I started to feel a strange sense of pleasure. I could feel my body responding to her insults in a way that I never expected. It was as if her words were fueling a fire inside of me that I never knew existed.

And then it hit me. I was enjoying this. I was enjoying her teasing, her mocking, her belittling. I was getting off on it. I could feel my body getting warmer, my heart racing, and a tingling sensation between my legs. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help it.

As she continued to make fun of my weight, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if she touched me. If she ran her skinny hands over my belly, squeezed my ass, and whispered dirty words in my ear. I could feel myself getting wet at the thought.

'You like that, don't you?' she said with a smirk. 'Don't worry. You aren't the only fat-assed cow from high school who loves being reminded of it. I suppose I accidentally primed you all for it.'

She laughed again and handed me her business card before turning and walking away.

'We have a little club, text me if you're interested in catching up!'

📷: CheeseAi - Great AE and WG AI pics.

[nessinborderland]

V-E-N-U-S (02)

Pairing: Rafe x plus size!Reader

Genre: smut, dark-ish fic

Word Count: 6 ,2k

Warnings ⚠️ Mildly Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, more like Enemies to Enemies That Fuck tbh, Rafe Cameron Being an Asshole, mentions of bullying, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Mentions of death of a parent, Drinking, Drug Use, Rafe needs therapy asap, fatphobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: The nickname he had given you in 8th grade was supposed to be ironic. In Rafe’s defense, he used to be a pretty stupid and cruel fourteen-year-old, as most kids that age are. So yeah, nicknaming the fat and nerdy chick Venus – like the goddess of sex and beauty – had been pretty hilarious in young Rafe's opinion.

What he would've never guessed was how much that name would fit you now as a grown woman.

Notes: This chapter ended up being an over 10k words beast, so I had to split it in two lol. Enjoy 💖 and please reblog and leave me a comment if you like, I would love to know what are your thoughts on this ff.

AO3 | Masterlist | Part 1

Leaving that room after you fucked Rafe Cameron had felt a lot like your ‘walk of shame’ debut. It was like a beam of light shone down on you, following you as you rushed down the stairs into the foyer and out of the house. You could feel the stares of partygoers – at least the ones sober enough to realize what had transpired between you – and the whispers and giggles as you passed by them couldn’t be ignored.

You cursed Rafe for the hundredth time that night – knowing how gossip went around the island, it would be common knowledge by the next day’s afternoon that something had happened between you and the Kook Prince.

Something you had instantly come to regret.

It had all been your fault.

Your first mistake was thinking that teasing Rafe Cameron would be a good idea. The furtive looks, the coy smiles, the light seducing – it had all been part of your plan. You wanted to watch him squirm, to have him pay in some way for all he had done to you in high school. He would never apologize, and you would never forgive him, but having at least some power over him would be enough.

Or so you thought.

Nothing was supposed to come out of it besides the blond’s frustration and the sweet taste of revenge on your tongue as you rejected his advances again and again. You wanted to make him mad with want and, in a way, you suppose you had succeeded.

You just never expected to fall for your own game.

You couldn’t deny it though; sex with Rafe had been amazing. You were no sex goddess by any means – despite your nickname – but you knew for a fact that none of the guys you had sex with before could ever compare to the dick that had quite possibly ruined your sex life.

The intensity in his eyes when he had fucked you hard and deep, the way his big hands had smoothed over your curves, the way he had filled you up and touched that magical spot just right, how he had kissed you… it was like you could still feel it all, from your trembling legs to your still racing heart.

A flush of heat crept up your chest and cheeks at the memories, making you open up your light jacket despite the chilly night air.

Your legs felt like jelly, your hair was a tangled mess, your skin was no doubt starting to bruise from his love bites, and you knew for a fact that you would be sore the next morning. The wet mess between your folds was hard to ignore, and you would have to say goodbye to your cute – but now ruined – bikini bottom as soon as you got home.

You shook your head at your own stupidity; why the hell had you let him get inside you without a condom on? You knew better than that! Thank God you were on the pill, though. That was one less thing for you to worry about.

You moaned in discomfort as you sat on the curb right in front of the house, refusing to look back despite the heavy feeling of being watched.

Fucking perv.

When he asked you to see him again, the look in his eyes made you wonder how much longer you would regret this little adventure. You weren’t even that drunk, to begin with, so what demon had possessed you to do something as foolish as getting in bed with Rafe Cameron?

A text notification made your phone vibrate, and you opened it to read your cousin’s text.

‘omw. u ok?’ it read. You texted him back a thumbs-up emoji, already knowing he would probably ask you several questions when he finally arrived.

John B had called and texted a few times after Rafe had taken your phone from you, asking what was going on and if you were okay, with – obviously – no response. But your baby cousin wasn’t one to dramatically worry over you, and you were glad for that. His last text had been a simple ‘call me back when you can’ followed by ‘or I’ll send the rescue team’.

Thankfully for you, you were done with Rafe before John B worried too much, and you were sending him a text asking him to come get you as soon as you were dressed and with your phone back in your possession.

You bit the nail on your thumb as you wondered how your cousin would react to the exciting news of your rendezvous with Rafe Cameron.

In one word: badly. After everything the blond had done to him, his friends, and Sarah – done to you – there was no doubt in your mind that John B would go berserk over it. Not to mention JJ, you thought with a grimace. That boy would gladly try to kill Rafe with his bare hands any day of the week if he could get away with it; but after hearing about this?

Absolute chaos.

And that was why you sincerely hoped that the rumors of tonight’s activities never reached their ears. Wishful thinking, you were well aware. You and Rafe just tended to draw too much attention when you were in the same vicinity, for some reason, and even your family knew you didn’t get along. The downside of always fighting him in public, you suppose.

Like on cue, a honk and a flash of light broke you out of your thoughts, and you stood up as the Twinkie rolled down the street till it stopped right by the house, your cousin in the driver’s seat waving at you with a tight smile on his lips.

“Thanks for picking me up, Bibi,” you said in greeting as you opened the door and sat on the passenger seat, reclining against the leather seat with a wince that your cousin thankfully didn’t seem to notice.

The van was empty besides the two of you. Good, you thought as you glanced back at the house – where music and loud voices could be heard even from outside, the party still going strong despite being almost three in the morning. You didn’t think you would be able to face Sarah Cameron right now; or any of the others, for that matter.

“No problem,” John B said as he started driving away. “Why didn’t you answer my calls, though? Got worried when that guy took your phone.”

“Sorry,” you said with a grimace, hoping he would just accept your apology without asking further questions. “I just got busy talking and didn’t notice your calls. You know I can’t shut up if someone brings up my favorite series.”

He hummed, not sounding totally convinced. It made you nervous just a little. “As long as you’re okay…” He sent you a side glance. “A Kook party, though? Thought you didn’t do those, with the chance of running into him and all that…”

“Oh, you know me, just trying to broaden my horizons and find out how the one percent lives.” You snorted, set on ignoring his last sentence. “And they live pretty damn well. Heated pools, bathrooms bigger than my bedroom, and, not surprisingly, a whole lot of coke. Not gonna lie, might do just like you and get me a Kook. Is Sarah looking for another sugar baby?”

John B chuckled at your words, lightly punching you in the arm.

“Ha ha ha, Sarah is not my sugar mommy.”

“Of course, keep telling yourself that,” you laughed, playfully pulling at the collar of his shirt. “But I know good clothes when I see them, and I also know you can’t afford them, so…”

“Fine, this was a gift, okay?” He swatted your hand away, and his expression slowly returned to one of mild worry. “So, nothing happened, right? Was it a fun party? You do look like you had a good time…”

You couldn’t help but notice that it sounded more like a question than a statement, and you wondered if he could notice you had fucked his nemesis not even fifteen minutes ago. You shook the thoughts away; he couldn’t possibly know already and, hopefully, he never would.

You looked at him with a raised brow.

“Is this your attempt at an interrogation, cuz?”

He scoffed, but his ears started turning red. “Of course not, I’m just asking.”

“If you really want to know, yes, Rafe was there, and yes, he was an asshole the whole time. But I can’t resist a good fight where he’s involved, so what was I supposed to do? Leave?” You scoffed like it was a ridiculous option. “Someone got to slap that smug smirk off his face, and it might as well be me.”

“Damn right,” he laughed, the sound sounding forced. Then his brow furrowed, and his smile dropped. “Hmm… was he the guy that took your phone, by any chance?”

You froze, meeting his eye through the rearview mirrors.

“What?” you asked with an awkward chuckle. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I was with Sarah when you called and she could swear it was her brother on the phone,” he clarified with a shrug. Then he hesitated, unsure of what to say before adding, “So, was he?”

“Yeah,” you confessed in a nonchalant tone. “He was just messing with me, though, nothing out of the ordinary for him.”

“Okay, cool, cool.” He paused for a moment, then spoke again, “He hasn’t been too bad, right? We all know what he’s capable of, and sometimes I just worry he will get too far. He always had this weird little obsession with fucking with you.” Oh, you have no idea, Bibi. “You know you can tell me and the guys if he ever crosses the line, right?”

“You got nothing to worry about, B,” you eased with a pat on his arm. “We both know he can’t hurt me anymore. Besides, I can fight.”

He laughed at your words, visibly relaxing, and you let out a deep sigh as he reached for the radio, Bob Marley’s voice filling the van with the lyrics of ‘Could You Be Loved’ and finally putting an end to this conversation.

«»«»«»«»«»

Working at The Island Club was usually a bearable affair. The money could be better, but the team was good, the hours weren’t bad, and the work – although exhaustive most days – was doable. The clients – mostly Kooks and tourists – weren’t that bad either and, more importantly, tipped well.

All in all, a job was a job, and you liked this one for the most part. You had mouths to feed and bills to pay after all, so it was not like you had a choice in the matter. You needed to work if you wanted to finally get into college sometime next year. You were thankful this job even let you have enough free time to focus on writing your novel.

However, today was turning into a rather hellish shift.

The party had been almost a week ago, and you had come to realize something.

Sleeping with Rafe Cameron had been a mistake. Not just a simple one, no – but a huge fucking mistake. One that would haunt you for the rest of your life (like a part of you knew it would). You could see that now. You had never regretted a stupid decision as much as you did at that moment, trying to do your job with the devil’s gaze burning your back.

To put it simply, your night together had changed something between you, while simultaneously changing nothing at all.

Rafe had barely said a word to you all week, but his heated stare as you professionally greeted him and Topper while setting their way-too-expensive prime ham sandwiches down on the table, said plenty. It was like he was expecting you to fall into his lap if he looked at you hard enough, blue gaze following your every move as you worked.

It was driving you crazy, and he knew it.

You had seen him almost every day since that Saturday night and, without fail, the blond made sure to make you as uneasy as he could until he either left or you clocked out.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

People knew.

You hadn’t heard any rumors yourself and – by some miracle – neither John B nor any of his friends had mentioned it in any way. But you were aware that people knew if the hushed whispers of your and Rafe’s name said in the same sentence was any indication.

Like right now, you could feel the curious glances of the familiar-looking girls you were serving virgin margaritas to alternate between you and the men you had just served, their whispered giggles a good indication of what their conversation was about.

You didn’t dare turn, but you hoped that Rafe was keeping his eyes to himself right now; the last thing you needed was to make people even more curious about the both of you.

“Hey, Venus, can I ask you something?” Claire, one of the girls, asked in a conspiratorial whisper before giggling as she exchanged a look with her sister. The brunette didn’t wait for your answer before proceeding, “Is it true that you and Rafe Cameron had like… a thing at Allan’s party? Because we’ve heard some rumors…”

“I don’t know what–”

Does that mean you don’t hate each other anymore?” the other sister interrupted, nodding in Rafe’s direction just two tables away “Oh my God, are you guys dating?”.

“How is he in bed though?”

“Did you actually–”

“Okay, look, girls,” you said in a firm tone before any of them could utter another word. “I don’t know what you heard, but I’m glad to inform you that our mutual hate for each other is still very much alive. So, if that’s all…” you sent them a tight smile and moved to walk away. “Enjoy your drinks.”

You let out a deep sigh as you made a beeline for the kitchens, urging for a break and a cold glass of water. The kitchen was hot and loud, the sound of dishwashing machines and people talking just what you needed to zone out for a bit after the lunch hour rush, and this conversation that was about to give you an anxiety attack.

This was the first time anyone had actually asked you something about it, but you doubted it would be the last. The worst of it all was the fact that you were pretty sure that Rafe and his friend had heard every bit of that awkward convo, given their proximity and the girl’s apparent difficulty with speaking quietly.

You were on your second glass of water, leaning by a counter out of the way of the kitchen staff when the unthinkable happened.

“Hey, V.”

“Hey, JJ,” You greeted the blond boy back – still deep in your thoughts – as he leaned on the counter right beside you.

And that’s when he asked the forbidden question.

“Did something happen between you and Kook Prince out there?” he asked in a curious tone. “And I don’t mean you guys fighting – you do that all the time – I mean… you know… fucking.” As if his words weren’t enough, he added an obscene gesture as he said the word, his expression serious despite the question.

Your mouth dropped open in a scandalized scowl, the glass in your hand almost slipping from your fingers as the words registered.

If he knows, John B knows, was your immediate thought.

You fully turned to face JJ, his baby-blue eyes fixing you with a probing look that also seemed just a tad bit judgmental like it was actually his business who you were or weren’t fucking. But you knew that your sex life wasn’t the problem; who, specifically, was the problem. And you couldn’t really blame him, or anyone, for that; not when the who in question was Rafe fucking Cameron.

A beat passed where neither of you said a word, and you knew then that – didn’t matter whatever you said from now on – would be annulled by your initial silence. JJ had always been too perceptive for his own good, and you weren’t helping your case by just staring at him like a fish out of water.

But you still had to give it a try and save your remaining dignity; even if that meant lying with all your might.

-Excuse me?” you asked in your most offended tone, pinning him with a raised brow and a hand on your hip. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you really think that I would ever let a Kook – especially that one–- touch me like that?”

But JJ was harder to intimidate than most boys his age, and his eyes widened as he exclaimed in a tone loud enough to attract the kitchen staff’s attention: “Holy shit, are you fucking kidding me, is that a yes?! Did you and Cameron actually–”

You hurried to press a hand against his mouth, muffling his next words.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” you threatened, carefully intonating each word. “Say another word and you’ll never get a taste of my special brownies ever again. That’s a promise, JJ, I’ll make you regret it.”

His wide eyes relaxed, his surprised gaze turning into a playful one before you felt his tongue on your palm, making you drop it from his mouth with a sound of disgust followed by a slap on his shoulder.

“Ugh, you’re unbelievable! Where the hell did you even hear that, anyway?”

“So, you know the twins right – I had this thing with Claire, doesn’t matter now – but she just asked me if I knew anything about you and Cameron and no, I fucking did not! She told me people saw you fight and lock yourselves in a room. Like, what is that all about?”

“Those are rumors, and I’m honestly quite upset that you believe them.”

“Well, I didn’t until you looked at me like that,” he said, gesturing at you. “You always get wide-eyed when you’re lying. C’mon, you know you can tell me,” his expression turned deadly serious in an instant. “Did Rafe do anything to you? Did he–”

“Oh my god, JJ, no, Rafe didn’t hurt me or anything like what you’re thinking about, chill!”

“Oi!” A voice made you jump in place, and both yours and JJ’s gaze turned to the kitchen entrance where your boss stood, staring down at both of you with a raised brow. “I don’t pay you two to gossip around, get to work!”

“Yes, Raz, sorry!” you said, sending your boss an apologetic wave before turning to the blond. “Whatever you think you heard or saw, erase it from your mind, you understand? I’m serious, JJ. You don’t have to worry, okay?”

You went back to work after that, now under the gaze of not just Rafe – who was still following you with his eyes as he sipped on his drink – but also your cousin’s best friend, who alternated his watchful eye between you and the other man. This was exactly what you needed: just one more thing for you to worry about.

JJ would without a doubt tell John B, who would inevitably – and reasonably, if you were being honest with yourself – want to have a serious talk with you about it. If that happened, you would do what you always did when people got up in your business and shut that down. You loved them for caring about you, but you were as much a damsel in distress as they were your white knights.

But that was a problem for future you. Now you had orders to take and tables to clean and, fortunately, your shift was almost over.

A glance at your watch let you know that you only had to endure another forty minutes of work before you were free to go home and get back to that chapter you had been stuck at for some time.

You worked on autopilot, mind conjuring ideas to add to the plot line of your book as you filled a tray with empty glasses and beer bottles, so unaware of your surroundings that you didn’t even notice him approach.

“Hey, Venus.”

You jumped in place, your heart skipping a beat before you looked over your shoulder at Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince himself. He was standing a few feet behind you, in some beige shorts and a dark blue polo shirt that clung to his torso just right, arms crossed at his chest. You tried not to think about his muscular arms, knowing damn well how strong he was and how they looked and felt around your naked body.

You quickly averted your eyes to his face, hoping that he would take the faint blush on your cheeks as just a consequence of working outside in the warm weather. He was staring at you with a satisfied little smile on his lips, like scaring you had made his day.

Asshole.

“Hey,” you greeted in a cold tone.

“How’re you doing?”

You took a moment to answer, filling the tray with the last of the glasses before turning to him, the full tray expertly balanced in your hand despite its weight.

“You know what?” you said as you walked by him to make your way inside, smiling to yourself as you heard him follow you; just like you knew he would. “I was having a nice day until I saw you walk in. After that, it got kinda shitty.”

“Bitchy today, aren’t we?” he said to your back, bite in his tone.

“With you? Always.”

“Been thinking about me when you touch yourself at night? Because I have.”

You set the tray on the bar counter with a little more strength than necessary, glasses and bottles clinking dangerously as you started to discard the bottles in the trash. It was, gladly, a slow day and there were no customers inside to hear your and Rafe’s conversation. The last thing you needed was for more people to wonder what was going on between you.

“Pig,” you spat at him.

“What, you don’t think of my cock inside you?” he asked, leaning closer to you. “Of my mouth on your tits? ‘Cause I do. All the fucking time.”

“So go fuck someone and leave me alone.”

“But I want you.”

“If only I cared.” Then you added, almost as an afterthought, “By the way, I’ve been spitting on all your drinks.” You sent him your best customer smile. “If you were wondering why they tasted sweeter..”

A moment passed where you just stared each other down, Rafe clearly annoyed, if the scowl on his face and the way he was sucking on the inside of his cheek was anything to go by. You were no stranger to that expression on his handsome face.

“You can be really fucking annoying, you know that?” he said, brows furrowing as you chuckled.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you retorted in a tone that clearly indicated you were done with the conversation, your boss watching you from outside making you nervous that he would think something of you two. You couldn’t lose this job. “Now, can you leave me alone, some of us actually have to work for a living, you know?”

You could feel his anger emanating from him in waves as you walked away, but you couldn’t care less. He was like a pampered little kid being denied an extra sweet, all pouty and red-faced because mommy wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

Someone had to make him understand that he couldn’t have every little thing his dark little heart desired.

«»«»«»«»«»

“So, are you gonna tell me what actually happened or nah?”

“Oh, my fucking God JJ, I swear to Jesus Chris– You can’t be here!”

It was finally the end of your shift, and you had really thought that your workday had come to an end until you walked into the locker room followed by none other than JJ, who had looked at you throughout the day like he wanted to keep talking about it. But you didn’t want to talk about it, thank you very much. You were more than glad to forget all about it.

But it was obvious that the blond had other ideas. At least he had waited for your coworker Ana to leave the room before getting in.

“Hey, hey, relax okay – no one will know I was here – plus, you can’t blame a guy for worrying. How could I hear about this and not ask you? I hear all kinds of crazy shit about you two all the time, but this one takes the cake.”

“Okay, so you can ask, and I can blame you for being an idiot asking idiot questions,” you said as you changed out of your uniform into a non-sweaty shirt. “Just mind your damn business, it’s as simple as that.” You grimaced at your words, before adding, now in a softer tone, “You got nothing to be freaking out about, okay?”

He sat down on a bench with his back to you as you changed, foot tapping on the floor in what you knew was one of his nervous tics. It almost made you feel bad for worrying him. JJ meant well, and you knew that.

You ruffled his hair as you passed by him to watch yourself in the mirror by the sink, freeing your hair from its ponytail before massaging your scalp with a sigh of contentment.

“So, you’re telling me you’re good… right?” he asked, your eyes locking through the reflection. “All is good?

“All is good,” you repeated with a faint smile at his reflection as you passed your wrists under a cold stream of water.

“John B will freak out when he hears about this.”

“Oh, please,” you grunted, turning off the faucet and crossing your arms as you leaned against the sink. “Like he’s one to talk…”

If your cousin could date Sarah Cameron – a super sweet girl who was nothing like her brother, you would give her that – then you could fuck Rafe Cameron in what was a single occasion of drunk and horny impulsivity.

“What?”

“He won’t freak out because there’s no reason to freak out,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And even if there was – which there isn’t – is none of your business whom I sleep with or not. I’m older than all of you, so who the hell are you to scold me like I’m some little girl?”

“I just think it’s weird, that’s all,” JJ said with a shrug. “After everything he did to you, why would you even – why would he –” he interrupted himself, shaking his head. “Nah, you know what, you’re right, it’s none of my business.”

Was that… bitterness in his eyes? It almost made you throw your hands up in the sky in frustration.

You didn’t need anyone to look at you with anger, judgment, pity, or anything resembling those emotions. You weren’t a scared little girl anymore and Rafe wasn’t the big bad wolf. Your decisions – even if you regretted them – had been your own.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” you grumbled in a threatening tone, finger pointed at him as you stepped closer.

JJ didn’t look the smallest bit intimidated as he looked up at you, mouth set in a straight line like he was forcing himself to not say anything else that would upset you. Then, his lips curved into a tight smile, and he stood up with a sigh.

“Well, I gotta go so…” he muttered, nodding at you as he squeezed your shoulder for a quick moment before walking towards the door. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?”

“Yeah, you will,” you confirmed with a sigh, accepting the change of subject like it was some kind of truce between you. “Goodbye, JJ.”

«»«»«»«»«»

Walking home after work was like a meditation of sorts. You would put on your earphones, shutting off the world around you before pressing play on your favorite playlist, letting your thoughts wander as you walked the few miles to the home where you lived with your family.

You glanced at your old leather wristwatch, checking the time through its lightly cracked screen. It was a little past six in the afternoon, and the sun would set soon. At this hour, your brother David would probably be sitting at the kitchen table finishing his homework, while little Kevin watched cartoons in the living room and your mother finished cooking dinner, everyone waiting for your arrival so you could enjoy a meal together.

Being home with your family after a tiring day of work was both a pleasant and chaotic experience, but you loved it all the same.

You took a deep breath of the late afternoon air, the nice sea breeze filling your lungs and cooling down your sweaty skin. It made you want to go to the beach; you missed swimming. Surfing had never been your thing, but being in the ocean, moving your body in tune with the currents and the waves, made you feel a special kind of peace. Or used to, anyway. You had barely set foot in salt water since you were fifteen years old.

With a sigh, you ignored the path that led you to the beach and continued walking home.

You were more than halfway there when a strange feeling took over you. It was an all too familiar suspicion; like you were being watched. Taking the earpiece from your right ear, you listened attentively, head slightly tilted. The sound of wheels rolling on gravel and the rumble of a motor made you sure of it:

You were being followed.

With a glance over your shoulder, you saw a black truck, eyes going wide as you halted and fully turned around, recognizing the vehicle.

“So, you’re a stalker now?” you said loud and clear, hands on your hips as you stared down at the driver’s tinted window.

As you expected, the car stopped right beside you, the window sliding down with a smooth electric sound to reveal none other than Rafe Cameron.

Shocking.

“Just wanted to offer you a ride home, that’s all,” he said with a nod at the passenger seat like he was telling you to get in.

He stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher, those blue eyes of his pinning you down like he was challenging you to a fight, to say something that would inevitably escalate – as all your conversations did. Which, being who he was and who you were, was most likely the right interpretation.

“Right,” you said with a pronounced eye roll. “And the best way to do that is following me like you’re some damn kidnapper. What next, should I wait for you to gag me and throw me in the trunk?”

His lips twitched at that, and he averted his eyes with a sniff before looking at you again.

“Don’t be giving me any ideas…”

He said it in a playful tone, but his narrowed gaze could be described as anything but playful. It instantly made you regret your words. It was not that you thought he would actually kidnap you but, when it came to Rafe Cameron, nothing was out of the realm of possibility.

You looked up and down the street, noticing how empty your surroundings looked with no one in sight, either on the road or on the sidewalk. There were houses ahead though, so if he tried something you would make sure to show him how piercing your high notes could be when you felt the need for them.

“Relax,” Rafe said, most likely noticing your tense shoulders and your wandering gaze. “I’m not thinking about doing any kidnapping today.” Today. “Just wanted to give you a ride, that’s all.”

“Yeah sure, like I would fall for that. What do you really want, Rafe?”

The telltale signs that showed his growing irritation manifested themselves in the flush of his cheeks and the furrowing of his blond eyebrows, which always made his blue eyes look darker and threatening. Most people feared Rafe and his temperament, but you were more than desensitized at this point.

“Haven’t I made it clear enough?” he asked in an even tone that clearly didn’t match his emotions.

“As much as I’ve made it clear that I don’t want anything else to do with you.”

You took notice as his hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“And why not?” he asked, almost indignant like he couldn’t possibly understand you and your constant refusal of his request. “I’m not asking you to marry me, just to have fun once in a while. I had a good time, you had a good time… so, what’s really stopping you from saying ‘Yes’?”

“You know what.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, please tell me it’s not–”

“Okay, shut up and listen!” You raised your hand to stop him, feeling your temper get the better of you. “This might be news to you, but you really made my life hell in high school. I was a teenage girl with no friends, going through hell, and you just came out of nowhere to make it all so much worse. Unprovoked! Do you think that’s easy for me to just forget? To throw all those years you hurt me behind my back just because – what – you suddenly realized you want to fuck me? Your feelings about me change nothing when I’ve hated you for so long.” You let out a deep sigh. “And that feeling really hasn’t diminished over the years.”

“You say you hate me, but you still fucked me,” he asked eyes narrowed as he locked under his hard gaze. “So, what does that say about you?”

“It says I make mistakes,” you retorted, shaking your head at his words. “One of my biggest regrets in life, if I’m being honest.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes, his jaw clenching as he averted his gaze, and for a moment you didn’t know if you should feel vindicated or sorrowful. It all mixed in an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

A moment passed, and you were about to walk away when he spoke again.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

You scoffed, shaking your head at the simplicity of his words. You knew Rafe was far from stupid, but the way he was being obtuse made you wonder.

“And you think that apologizing like you’re doing changes things? After what you’ve done to me?” you bit your lip, feeling your eyes sting as an unwelcome memory resurfaced. “Do you remember what you did to me when my father died?”

Silence. Rafe said nothing, avoiding your gaze as he stared at his hands, knuckles whitening as his grip on the wheel tightened, the leather scratching under his palms.

“Do you even remember?” you pressed him on, slowly stepping towards the car until you were so close you could touch the door. “Do you remember how cruel you were? My father died, I almost died, and you still thought it was funny to tell me that I was the one who drowned him. That it was all my fault. Your stupid jokes… I almost believed it.”

“That–” He hesitated, glancing at you for a split second before looking away again. “I shouldn’t have– I know I shouldn’t have–”

“But that didn’t stop you, did it?” you asked, voice wavering as you tried not to cry; not in front of him. “You saw me going through the worst chapter in my life, and you still decided to make me miserable. Honestly… I’m not sure who hates each other more, but if your father died I wouldn’t be making jokes about it or blaming you for his death, that’s for sure. When your–” you stopped yourself before you mentioned his mother, avoiding his gaze as his brows raised. A part of you really wanted to hurt him back, but that was not a can of worms you wanted to go near.

You moved away from the car instead, sniffling as you tried to ignore the lump in your throat. You were about to walk away when Rafe called your name, a slight tremor in his voice.

“I’ll make it up to you. Let me–”

“Nah, don’t bother.” You didn’t even turn to him as you started walking away, feeling suddenly more exhausted than you had been ten minutes ago. “I’m not about to take part in your redemption arc just because you feel bad. That’s something between you, God, and a therapist.”

Without another word, you put on your earpiece, turned up the volume of your phone to the max, and pressed play, rushing to get home and forgetting that this conversation ever happened.

«»«»«»«»«»

Part 3 ->