#he is working to put some semblance of good back into the world

[thatweirdguyinthebushes]

And to everyone in the tags saying "redemption is good for everyone except the Truly Evil, who can never be redeemed" I reiterate: what are you, a cop?

"redemption arcs are toxic, you shouldn't try to fix someone!"

actually it is so important to me that being in community and experiencing human connection can save people. thanks

[whateveriwant]

Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

[slushycoookie]

Spa Day ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: You and Miguel go to the spa, mainly fluff, gets smutty towards the end, "wife" and "girl" are used, thigh grinding, masturbation, perhaps a hint of a praise kink, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: Had an idea to do a cute spa day with Mig. Enjoy!

“Welcome to the Sunny Side Spa! Are you checking in?”

The receptionist asked, smiling wide as you and Miguel walked inside. You were too busy taking in the peaceful atmosphere to respond. Admiring the soft bright lighting, harpsichord music, and divulging in the lavender aroma.

Miguel stepped in, “Yes. For the deluxe package?”

“Wonderful! Right this way!” You took your husband's hand, following the cheery woman down a hall and to the right, where the showers and locker rooms were. “Please wash up and put on our robes so we can start your ultimate spa experience!”

Your heart sped up in excitement, trying to contain it as you and Miguel went your separate ways in the locker rooms. Sunny Side Spa was a new spa that opened up on Earth-438, being highly recommended by some of the spiders in Spider Society. Ben mainly as he raved about his experience. Saying he suggested it to a few others too because it was that good. Jess came to you a few days later about the same spa and then so did Peter the day after. All boasting about their experiences, wanting you and Miguel to go too.

They mentioned how difficult it was pushing Miguel to go out and try new experiences. Especially after his major role in forming the elite spidey team. But once he started dating you, he was open to branching himself out. Even more so after marriage.

So when you brought up the spa trip with him, he was interested. He didn’t think he'd even been to the spa before when he couldn’t remember the last time he's had a massage or a facial. You weren't sure yourself. Hence why it was clear you two had to get in some relaxation time.

The cream-colored robe you put on felt like cotton. It was warm and soft to the touch with notes of eucalyptus hitting your nostrils.

Miguel was waiting for you, leaning against the wall while listening to the receptionist rave about the deluxe package. You didn't catch much of it, only hearing a little bit about a deep tissue massage.

“Ah you too look adorable!” She complimented before motioning you all to the massage room. The lady repeated what she told Miguel about everything that's in the deluxe package. A deep tissue massage, followed by a manicure, pedicure and a facial. While you all were fed complementary food and drinks. And as an added bonus, a private sauna room you can go to at the end of the wellness visit.

The lady handed you a pamphlet of the details in case you forget as she left you two in the room to wait for your masseuse. Your eyes caught the option to do hot stones in the massage to maximize muscle relaxation.

“Maybe you should pick this one.” You pointed out.

Miguel glanced over your shoulder, letting out a playful huff. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing…” You teased, “My man works hard. Just want to make sure we're making the most out of our stay.”

He hummed, kissing the side of your head. “I appreciate the thought, baby.”

The massages you received were out of this world.

Once meeting with your personal masseuse, you lied face down, uncovering your robe for easy access. The masseuses' hands roaming every inch of your bare back. Rubbing spots along your muscles that you didn’t even know were tense. All of the tension built up inside faded away once the soft fingers of your personal masseuse melted it away.

You couldn’t help but groan loudly at the feeling, hearing your masseuse laugh. “Feel good, yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

Miguel was enjoying his massage as his groans resonated in the room. While he occasionally instructed his own masseuse where they should rub the most. Any semblance of worry that your husband wasn’t going to enjoy the experience were gone.

Hints of jasmine from the essential oils lingered as hot stones pressed along your back. Not hot enough to burn your skin but to soothe your body. The personal masseuses left the room, wanting you two to lie on the cot for a little to fully relax.

“Cariño?” You hummed in response, “I might fall asleep.”

You giggled as you could tell by his low tone. “Fall asleep, baby.” You weren't too far yourself, body desperate to doze off in pure bliss. Miguel’s soft snores weren’t helping either as it blended well with the gentle music that was playing.

After you and Miguel got some shut eye for a few minutes, your masseuse woke you up for the mani/pedi. You took the lead as Miguel trailed behind, walking a tad slower to get adjusted from his nap. The section of getting the hand and foot massages was in a large area outside. A closed off section that was decorated with tons of food at your disposal. Fruit, veggies and mini sandwiches with a variety of alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks.

You quickly snatched up a grape as you sat back in your reclining chair, grabbing a drink of water while waiting on the nail artists to arrive. There was an option of getting your nails painted too, which Miguel willingly said yes to your surprise.

“Ooh can I pick your color?” You asked as they handed you a palette of nail colors to choose from.

“Go crazy.” Miguel said, not paying you any mind as he messed with his chair that had a massage function built in.

You decided to pick black for him, the glittery kind that shined in the light. You opted for a dark blue, like his suit, also sporting a shimmery shine.

The techs were really thorough while doing your hands and feet. Placing them in a tub of warm water, scrubbing away the excess skin. Trimming your nails and toes to a decent length. You watched them rub oil across your arms and legs too before they effortlessly painted your nails and toes. You glanced over to see how Miguel’s looked. He wiggled one of his hands to show it off. Black fit well on him.

Your face was soon covered with a mixture of ingredients you couldn't recognize. The green concoction had a clay-like texture, but it was cool against your skin. You watched the spa workers carry a bowl of cucumbers to finish off the facial. And you couldn't help but get excited when they said you could eat the veggies once the facial was finished, earning a laugh from your husband.

“Can I eat yours too?”

“Sure, mi amor.”

They allowed you two to relax in your chairs for a bit. The soothing sensation of the mask really helping. Your nail techs also recommend waiting to touch anything for a bit while your nails dried, making sure their hard work didn't go to waste. That didn't stop Miguel from inching over to nudge your hand with his pinkie.

“Hm?” You said, completely in the zone of your relaxation.

“You look adorable right now.” Miguel chuckled.

You held back in removing a cucumber from your eye, “Put your cucumbers back on.”

“I will. Just let me look at you.”

“You've seen me before.”

“Not with green stuff all over your face.”

You removed one of your cucumbers, opening your eye and immediately snorting at Miguel’s green covered face. “You look adorable too.”

He gave another affectionate nudge before following your command by putting on his cucumbers.

After the delightful facials, you two made your way down to the saunas. You could feel your face glowing from the extra care. Both of you had to change again into some towels, having a similar texture and color to the robes you wore.

You and Miguel had 30 minutes inside before the staff checked on you. And you felt like you were in heaven as you leaned against Miguel. A warmth radiating throughout the room that relaxed your muscles and your mind. His arm draped behind you, leaning back against the bench, legs spread a little wide. You could tell he was enjoying it as he leaned his head back, taking it in.

Something in you honed on his neck, a slight sheen coating his brown skin. His adam's apple bobbing slowly. You swallowed hard at the hair on his chest, following it down to his happy trail and unable to see the prize under his towel.

“We should come here more often.” His voice caused you to jump, not expecting him to say anything.

“Oh yeah, we should.”

Miguel sat up, red eyes landing on you with a grin, “I know you liked the massages.”

“Of course I did.” You shrugged, “So did you, right?”

He nodded, “I did. But I know you really enjoyed them.” Miguel sat up a little and inadvertently spread his legs wider, “I heard your cute little noises.”

You huffed, trying not to get affected by what he was saying. “It wasn't intentional, it just felt good.”

“I know, nena. I'm teasing.” His hand rested on your side. It felt extra hot for some reason. “Sit on my lap.”

You eyed him suspiciously, “Why?”

“Because I want you to.” He said, sounding innocent.

“We can’t have sex in here, Miguel.”

Your husband bit his lip to hide his amusement, “Who said we were having sex? Your mind is awfully dirty.” You shot a glare towards him. He completely ignored it before patting his thigh for you. Somehow you found yourself on it, hands on his chest for support.

“I'm serious.” You warned before he captured your lips. It was gentle yet passionate. His hand placed on your back to keep you there while your tongues danced with each other. You wanted more when you parted, wanting to lean back in but you stopped yourself.

“We can’t…”

“We're not having sex.” Miguel reiterated as his hand moved to slowly unravel your towel. You didn’t protest, as a glimpse of your breast poked through, your towel loose enough to ride up to your hips. “Grind on my thigh.”

Your hips moved on command, your cunt rubbing against his covered thigh. The plush towel not irritating you at all but the complete opposite as you lowly gasped. Miguel’s hand took its rightful place on your back for stability. His eyes honed on how you were grinding against him.

“Good girl.”

Your eyes flickered to his hard cock coming out from his towel. Standing tall and proud due to your actions. You wanted to touch it, but he beat you to it as he lifted you up gently, plunging two fingers inside you. You whimpered at how embarrassingly wet you were before watching him use your arousal on his cock.

His eyes never left your body as yours watched him stroke his cock. His thumb running along the tip to collect pre cum before using it for additional lubrication. A quiet squishy sound was heard through the hum from the sauna. But you kept going, eyes fluttering shut to focus on what you were doing.

“Eyes on me.” He commanded.

You gazed at him, your stomach twisting as he was still watching you. Intense eyes filled with pleasure. Your hips faltered when he unraveled more of your towel from your body. It was dangling from your form, barely hanging on. But this way he was able to see your breasts move from the hip movement. And your covered sex rub along the fabric.

“Fuck…” He swore, picking up the pace of his strokes. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Miguel…” You moaned, your clit hitting a perfect spot amidst your lazy grinding. That caused you to arch your back and pick up the pace. Miguel’s other hand is still on you, gripping a bit tighter.

“I should fuck you right here.” He grunted, spreading his legs even wider to get a good angle. “But I listen to my wife.”

“Sometimes.” You muttered, enough for him to let out a breathy chuckle. Your thighs started to ache as your cunt pulsed while you felt yourself getting closer. You wanted to shut your eyes and chase it but it was more addicting to look at Miguel’s steely focus on you.

“Wait for me.” He sighed, voice starting to get hoarse. You slowed down for him to catch up. Which didn’t take too long as his rough hand gripped your ass, the cue for you to go. So you kept grinding. Your back arching more and allowing the towel to slip completely off. That earned a groan of approval from your husband, his face turned from the undeniable pleasure.

“Baby I need you to come. We don't have much time.”

“I-I know.” You struggled, whining as you were nearing your peak. You had to ignore Miguel’s demand this time by shutting your eyes to focus on that feeling. Your body exploded, pleasure shooting all over you. Thighs squeezing against his while you quietly cried for him. Any other time he wouldn't like how quiet you were but he didn’t complain.

Miguel wasn’t far behind as cum shot out, staining his abdomen. His death grip from your ass gently released as he heaved. You rested against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow back down to his original pace.

You and your husband were practically glowing after getting out of the sauna. The two of you changed back into your clothes before making your way to the front of the establishment.

The receptionist waved to you and Miguel as he made the payment, “Did you two enjoy yourselves?”

“We definitely did.” He glanced at you with satisfaction while you held in a grin.

“Awesome!” She handed him the receipt before waving you two goodbye. “Thank you for coming to the Sunny Side Spa! Have a good day!”

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[moonselune]

Hi! Could I request Astarion, Gale, and Wyll with a reader who is typically well spoken until someone flirts with them? Not an overly dramatic reaction, but more like they start stuttering and blushing. I would like this to have some NSFW in it, but you absolutely do not have to. Thank you! And have a wonderful day!

NSFW | MDNI | I F!reader

This was an absolutely fantastic request thank you very much for blessing me with it also this is the first time I have written smut for the boys, I did assume f!reader but will in future try and make it more gn xx

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the camp as you and Gale sat together by the fire. You enjoyed these moments of peace with him, the world falling away as you talked about everything and nothing. Your words flowed effortlessly, a natural charm evident in your every sentence.

That is, until a charming stranger wandered into your camp. The traveler was on their way to Baldur’s Gate and had stopped to ask for directions. Their conversation quickly turned friendly, and before you knew it, they were openly flirting with you.

“You have a certain… sparkle in your eyes,” the stranger said, leaning in a little too close. “Are you a sorcerer, or are you simply magical by nature?”

You felt your cheeks flush, your usual eloquence escaping you. “I, um, well… thank you. I… I’m not really—”

Gale, sitting beside you, watched with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Ah, I see,” he interjected smoothly, putting a comforting, yet possessive hand on your shoulder. “It seems my partner is a bit tongue-tied at the moment. Quite the rare sight, I assure you.”

The stranger chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Well, I should be on my way,” they said, giving you a playful wink. “But do let me know if you ever need help with finding your words.”

"I wouldn't worry, kind saer, trust she has a most eloquent partner," Gale jabbed, dismissing the traveller with a wave of his hand. As the stranger departed, Gale turned to you, his amusement evident. “Tongue-tied, my dear? Now, that’s something I never thought I’d see.”

You sighed, still feeling the warmth in your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened. I just… couldn’t think of anything to say.”

Gale’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It was quite adorable, really. But perhaps I should help you practice, so you’re never at a loss for words again.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

Gale leaned in, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “By teaching you how to use your tongue properly, of course.”

Before you could respond, Gale’s lips were on yours, a gentle yet passionate kiss that left you breathless. He pulled back just enough to murmur, “Follow me.”

You let him lead you to the privacy of your tent, your heart racing with anticipation. Once inside, Gale’s demeanor shifted from teasing to serious, his eyes dark with desire.

“Let me show you,” he said, his hands deftly working to remove your clothes. His breath hot on your neck, his lips mere inches away from your skin. “How a well-practiced tongue can render one speechless.”

You shivered at his words, the anticipation building as he guided you to lie down. His kisses trailed down your body, each one sending sparks of pleasure through you. You let yourself become lost under his touch and when his lips finally reached your most sensitive spot, you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair.

The grip you held on him only encouraged his lesson further. Gale’s tongue moved with expert precision, teasing and tasting in ways that made you moan uncontrollably. “Gale… oh, gods… please…”

He looked up at you, your slick coating his lips, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and hunger. “Please what, my love? Use your words, remember what this lesson is about.”

You whimpered, trying to find the strength to speak. “Please… don’t stop. It feels so good…”

He smiled against your skin, his tongue working even more skillfully, humming into your core. “That’s better. But I think you can do even better than that.”

Your body arched towards him, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable, you tugged and pulled at his hair. “Gale, please… I need... I need to come, please,”

Gale’s eyes darkened with desire at your words and his actions became more forceful, as he groaned into the wet mess of your core, “As you wish, my most eloquent love.”

The world outside your tent disappeared, leaving only the two of you. Gale’s actions became slow and deliberate, drawing out the pleasure until you were on the edge of bliss. His tongue lacsadaisically entered your core, his nose nudging your clit, his beard soaked in your fluids. You felt your legs begin to tremble and Gale held onto them with a firm carress.

When you finally came, it was with a cry of his name, your body trembling with the force of your release. Gale lapped up every bit of it and rode you through your high. As you came down, Gale crawled up your body, settling between your legs, chin resting on your chest.

“Well, my love, it seems you’ve found your words again.” Gale chuckled softly.

You smiled, still breathless. “Yes, but only because of you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your chest. “And I will always be here to help you find them, most dutifully.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The evening air was cool and refreshing as you and Astarion strolled through the bustling market. Your hand intertwined with his, and the two of you enjoyed the serenity of being together. Despite the crowds, there was a certain peace in the chaos, a comfort in the presence of each other.

Your conversation flowed smoothly, filled with laughter and gentle teasing. You prided yourself on your eloquence, your ability to converse and charm effortlessly. That is, until the vendor—a strikingly handsome elf—began to flirt with you.

"You have an eye for beauty," the elf said, his gaze lingering on you a moment too long. "Perhaps I could help you find something as lovely as yourself?"

You felt your cheeks warm, your usual poise faltering. "I… um, well, I—"

Astarion’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you struggle. "Oh, my love," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, "you seem to be at a loss for words."

The vendor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your sudden bashfulness. Astarion took a step closer to you, his presence a reassuring warmth against your side. "It's adorable, really," he continued, his tone teasing. "You’re usually so well-spoken."

The elf chuckled, clearly enjoying the scene. "I'm flattered," he said, his eyes still locked on you. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation later?"

Astarion's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I think not," he said smoothly, pulling you closer. "My dear here has other plans."

As you walked away, Astarion’s amusement was palpable. "You do know how to put on a show," he said, his voice low and suggestive.

You sighed, trying to regain your composure. "It’s just… I don’t know why I got so flustered."

Astarion stopped and turned to you, his eyes dark with a predatory gleam. "Oh, I know exactly why," he murmured, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "You’re not used to being the one flustered. Usually, you’re the one making others blush."

His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you close as you walked into a secluded part of the alley.

"But I think I rather like seeing you like this," he purred, his lips brushing against your neck. "So vulnerable, so easy to tease."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his hand trailed lower, slipping beneath the fabric of your clothes. "Astarion," you breathed, your voice shaky.

"Shh," he hushed you, his fingers expertly finding their way past your underwear and directly to your most sensitive spot. "Let's see how much I can make you squirm."

His touch was light at first, teasing and tantalizing. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he increased the pressure, his fingers moving with skilled precision. "Astarion, please," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Please, what?" he asked, his tone mockingly innocent. "You’ll have to be more specific, darling."

You whimpered, your body arching into his touch. You were glad that the sun was setting and the market was beginning to close, you ddint need an audience to Astarion making a show of you. "Please, I need you."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers never stopping their tormenting rhythm. "Need me? How delightfully vague. Tell me exactly what you want."

Your mind was a haze of pleasure and desperation.."I want you inside me," you managed to gasp out. "Please, Astarion."

Astarion’s eyes flashed with triumph, his smirk widening. "As you wish," he said, his voice a low growl. With a swift, practiced motion, he positioned himself, his hard length pressing against your entrance. You were slick from his teasing fingers and it seems your predicament had had a similar effect on him, as his tip leaked with precum. It wouldn't be the first time you guys did it in an alley, and it most definitely would not be the last.

"Now, now I want to hear every sinful moan and word from you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Just don't be too loud unless you want that dear merchant to come join us."

As he thrust into you, all coherent thought fled your mind. The world narrowed down to the feel of him inside you, the pleasure building with each movement. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he drove you both towards release.

In that moment, all your earlier embarrassment was forgotten, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly consumed by Astarion. And as you choked out his name, you knew there was no place you’d rather be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The evening was peaceful as you and Wyll sat together in the tavern, enjoying a quiet moment away from the chaos of adventuring. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow on Wyll’s handsome features, and his deep, melodic voice filled the space between you as he recounted a tale from his past. You listened, entranced, your usual confidence shining through as you engaged in the conversation.

Then, a stranger approached your table. A charismatic bard with a roguish smile, they leaned in and addressed you. “Forgive my interruption, but I couldn’t help but notice your captivating presence from across the room. Would you honor me with your name?”

You felt a sudden rush of heat to your cheeks, your usual eloquence faltering. “I, um, well… thank you. My name is… uh…”

Wyll’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched you struggle. He leaned in, his hand gently squeezing yours under the table.

“This is my partner,” he said smoothly, his tone protective yet playful. “And I believe you’ve rendered them quite speechless.”

The bard chuckled, clearly entertained by your flustered state. “Speechless, indeed. A rare and beautiful sight.”

As the bard moved on, Wyll turned to you, his expression soft and affectionate. “I must say, I’ve never seen you quite so… tongue-tied before. It’s absolutely adorable.”

You sighed, still blushing furiously. “I don’t know what happened. I just couldn’t think of anything to say.”

Wyll’s grin widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I rather enjoyed it, to be honest. Seeing you so flustered… it makes me want to keep you all to myself.”

He stood, offering you his hand. “Come with me, love. Let’s find somewhere more private.”

You took his hand, following him to your shared room upstairs. As soon as the door closed behind you, Wyll’s demeanor shifted from playful to intensely passionate. He pulled you close, his hands caressing your face as he gazed into your eyes.

“You have no idea how much I adore you,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Every time you blush, every time you stutter… it drives me wild.”

You shivered at his words, feeling the heat of his desire. “Wyll…”

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips gentle yet demanding. His hands roamed over your body, worshipping every inch of you with reverent touches. “Let me show you,” he whispered against your skin, “just how much I love you.”

Wyll’s kisses trailed down your neck, each one leaving a burning trail of desire. He undressed you slowly, savoring the sight of your bare skin as if it were the most precious treasure.

“You are perfect,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Every inch of you.”

You moaned softly as his lips found the sensitive parts of your body, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. “Wyll… please…”

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust and love. “Please what, my love? Tell me what you need. Use your most beautiful words.”

You blushed again, your earlier shyness returning. “I need you, Wyll... I need you to..”

"Love you? Adore you? Fuck you?" Wyll’s smile was tender and bashful as he positioned himself over you. “As you wish, my beloved.”

He entered you slowly, the sensation overwhelming. Wyll moved with a practiced grace, his every thrust drawing out your pleasure until you were both lost in the intensity of your love. His hands and lips continued to worship your body, nipping and carressing, making you feel cherished and adored with every touch.

When you both reached the peak of your pleasure, it was with cries of each other’s names, your bodies trembling in unison. Afterwards, Wyll held you close, his hands still gently caressing your skin.

“You are everything to me,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “And I will always love you, just as you are.”

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. “And I love you, Wyll. More than words can say.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you. “Then let’s stay like this, my love. Just you and me, forever.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed it !! - Seluney xox

[lesinquietes]

Summary: Dynamight can’t seem to focus on his duties with a pretty little thing like you taking your sweet time scoping the crime scene.

Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader

⚠️ fluff. violence.

l Next l

You’re trying to gather a sample of blood for evidence and he’s standing behind you with his arms crossed, jabbing at his teeth with a little wooden pick. When he’s done his idle activity, he tosses the pick in the trash. At least he’s meticulous about keeping the crime scene uncontaminated… for the most part.

“You done yet, princess?”

You purse your lips. If this was the first handful of times he used the pet name, you might have corrected him. It’s clear, at this point, that he doesn’t care to respect your wishes, so you elect to ignore him. Unfortunately, he seems to have a chip on his shoulder.

“Hey. You hear me?”

And you ponder to yourself, who the fuck do you think you are? because never, in your four years of being a forensic detective, have you dealt with a hero who acted like this.

You snap your head around to glare at him. When he greets you with a cocky grin — a very made you look expression — you want nothing more than to throw the victim’s keys at his face. Dynamight. You heard he helped save the world from All For One’s return, years ago, when the world was abandoning hope. You don’t doubt that his involvement is true, but surely his personality should have matured since then.

“Do I look done to you?” You ask rhetorically, latex gloves strapped to your elbows and vibrant eyes hidden behind thick lenses. “It’s only been half an hour.”

Bakugou’s grin widens upon getting a good look at you. You think he’s going to laugh. He’s seems like one of those jock types that still bullies because he never grew out of it. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t do anything of the sort. Instead, he sighs and walks over to you.

Normally, you would tell him to back away from the scene, but the words of caution catch in your throat. His sharp auburn eyes are boring into yours. There’s a spark on amusement dancing in the depths of his irises, though it’s the other emotion that catches your attention: curiosity. Perhaps this blunt hero has some semblance of professional focus, after all.

“Exactly. Half an hour. We could’ve gotten this shit done in five minutes.”

You roll your eyes. Forget what you thought. He just wants to go home. Well, if that’s the case, you can put him to work.

“Make yourself useful and hold this device for me.”

You shove the item into his hand. He grasps it instinctively. You don’t hear any complaints.

While you swab for a solid sample of the victim’s blood, he waits idly next to you, silently studying your process. He observes your craft with respect, knowing heroes can’t do their jobs as well without your role. His younger self — who so visibly struggled with disobeying any form of authority — might have roofed the device after it was forced upon him. He’ll hold onto it for you. At least it looks like you’re being thorough with the case.

But as the sequence goes on, he finds his gaze drifting to your features. He’s immune to a lot of things, but not pretty women.

You catch him when you finish your task. He’s swift to glance away. Oblivious to his fascination, you smirk.

“Didn’t know you were interested in forensics.”

He snorts.

“I ain’t. I’m interested in you.”

And he doesn’t miss how you bite your lips to stop yourself from smiling.

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 1/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: how did it all start? word count. 1.9k cw. marriage pact au, potential mature content a/n. this is my first time writing fic! hope you all enjoy this story! (♡ n pls let me know if you do enjoy them ♡) Masterlist

Every month, Motoya Komori, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and you meet up to catch up and enjoy each other's company. Surprisingly, despite the passage of time and the changes in your lives, you have managed to maintain your friendship well since high school. Your bond remains strong, bolstered by frequent chats in your group chat, where you exchange life updates.

Now you’re all in your late 20s, with you and Sakusa the same age, 27 years old, and Motoya a year older. Each of you is navigating your own unique path in life. Motoya Komori, always the cheerful one, shares his latest thoughts and plans. "Nothing much," he says with a grin, "just thinking about coaching some kids in my block." Then, he adds, "Mia thinks that’s a good idea too," his eyes light up when he talks about his wife, his smile widening. It's been a year since their wedding, and he’s never been happier. He met his wife during an open trip to Europe in his early 20s, a serendipitous encounter that changed his life forever.

Sakusa, on the other hand, often brings up his ongoing struggle with his fame. "I keep trying to decline gifts from fans," he admits, a hint of frustration in his voice. Despite his attempts to maintain some semblance of normalcy, his popularity often complicates things. 

It’s no wonder you think that Kiyoomi is popular among women. A single, talented man who looks dedicated to his career is bound to attract attention. People on the internet often compliment his looks too. Standing at 6’4” with a lean build, his black wavy hair adds to his appeal. You can imagine his struggle a bit—balancing his demanding career with the expectations and attention from fans and potential romantic interests alike.

As for you, you share your own challenges of juggling your main job with multiple side jobs. It’s a constant balancing act, trying to manage everything without letting anything fall through the cracks. Yet, despite the hectic schedule, you find solace in these monthly meet-ups, a reminder of the enduring friendship that has weathered the storms of life.

“Why do you have to do several jobs?” Komori asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

You chuckle lightly and start explaining the reality of life outside the athletic world. “Well, life actually works a bit differently for non-athletes,” you say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. You go on to explain that you're still early in your career, and your current job is only a mid-paying one. “I need some more money to cover my living costs and to send some to my retiring parents,” you add, your tone growing more serious.

Komori listens intently, nodding in understanding. He realizes that while his career path as a professional athlete offers certain financial stability and perks, your situation requires juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet and support your family.

Komori agrees with your statement about the high living costs, even for him. You continue, “Well, now that I think about it, in this economy, for average people, I think marriage helps a lot in a financial way. I mean, by having two incomes in the household. If we didn’t put children into the equation, though, maybe.”

Komori agrees, “Well, maybe that’s true. But I don’t know much about that since my wife stays at home. But financials aside, having someone to come home to… I don’t know how to put it. But it’s less lonely and, y’know? Feels like someone always has my back no matter what.”

Sakusa interjects, “But you don’t have to get married, you know? You can just move in with your girlfriend.”

Komori shakes his head, “I don’t know, man. It’s a different sense of security.”

You chime in, “Ooh, I get it. Maybe it’s kinda like… all these paperwork you sign? So, it feels verrrry official?” You raise your eyebrow, prompting Komori to laugh.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just happy and secure. That’s all I feel,” he says with a contented smile.

You sigh and slam your hand on the table, “Man, I don’t even think about that. I just think it’s nice to split rent and chores with someone.”

Komori hums at your statement, then turns to Sakusa. “What do you think, Omi?”

Sakusa shrugs, “I just think being married makes it more convenient for me to politely decline some of the persistent and creepy fans.”

You chuckle, “Ha. Ha. Okayyy starboy. Totally not relatable.”

Komori adds thoughtfully, “Hey, in a sense, that applies to you as well in terms of being more secure when walking at night. Ward off some creepy men, y’know?”

You nod, a wry smile on your face, “Hey! That’s so fucking true. Pfft, I hate the world that we live in.” You sip on your drink, finding a moment of solidarity in the shared laughter and understanding.

“Okay. Now this conversation made me want to get married. But I can’t even afford a relationship right now. Trying to start a relationship is too urgh,” you say, scrunching your nose. “Too many steps to deal with. And don’t even talk about the emotional roller coaster! It’s just too tiring!”

You used to be a hopeless romantic at heart, dreaming of the day you would meet that one person, your prince charming. Falling in love so hard that your head feels dizzy, experiencing all those cute butterflies in your stomach, and seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses due to the happiness of love.

However, the idea seems more and more impossible as you grow older. Reality has hit you hard. Maybe it’s just bad luck, but you’ve never been lucky in your romantic life. It’s not like no one wants you; there are men who approach you. But the ones who do either don’t meet your standards or turn out to be douchebags when you try to get to know them better and pursue more, leading to frustrating situationships. It’s exhausting to be attached to them and constantly ride an emotional roller coaster.

Moreover, you can’t think of anyone or any way to meet someone new at the moment. You’re not keen on the idea of dating apps either, as you feel like you’re not that fun in chat, and it just feels too unnatural to meet someone new that way. Especially a potential lover. Damn all these standards you’ve set for yourself!

Sakusa speaks up, “I get that, and I don’t understand what girls want either.” Sakusa doesn’t usually talk much during your discussions, but he enjoys listening to you and Komori's thoughts. Right now, he finds himself agreeing with you on the topic. Everyone knows that Sakusa isn’t the most socially adept person. He doesn’t easily make new friends, despite knowing many people from all the training, practices, and matches he has been involved in. However, he can't exactly call them friends. That's why he treasures this friend group, even though one of its members is literally his cousin. It’s something he can describe as “cousins by blood but friends by choice.”

Given this, it’s not hard to understand why it’s not easy for him to have a romantic relationship either. He can be attracted to someone—he experienced it several times during his school days, having little “relationships” that lasted only a few months. But these days, it’s getting harder to form meaningful connections. Lots of girls try to approach him, fans and acquaintances alike. Some have piqued his interest, but nothing has gone beyond a few dates. So, he truly gets it when you say it’s tiring.

“What?! So you don’t understand me?” you exclaim.

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “No, I understand you. It’s different. We’ve known each other since high school.”

“Ha. Right,” you reply with a hint of sarcasm.

Komori is silent, looking at both of you intently. He clears his throat, “Hey, you know, right? There’s something called platonic marriage?”

Sakusa stares blankly. “What’s that?”

“I know!” you chime in. “It’s like you’re married, but you’re not actually involved romantically.”

“Oh. I’ve heard of them. Interesting, I guess,” Sakusa responds.

“Yeah. It’s like you can get the marriage benefits without having to deal with all the emotional roller coasters that relationships give you,” you explain.

“True. But it’s too creepy and risky, right? To marry some random strangers?” Komori folds his arms and laughs.

You give a distasteful expression and respond quickly, “Of course! I wouldn’t dream of it. If I ever wanted to do a platonic marriage, it would be with someone that I know quite well.”

The three of you suddenly become silent. Komori smirks at you and Sakusa.

“What are you even implying?!” you demand.

“Hey! It’s not crazy, though! You mentioned it yourself.” He makes quotation marks with his fingers. “It would be with someone that I know quite well.”

You widen your eyes. He’s right, you think. But still, it’s borderline crazy and something that never crossed your mind. Sakusa? And you?! Sure, you think he looks good. But then again, you’ve never considered any of your friends ugly! Moreover, you’ve always seen him as your friend since the beginning. Which… is actually the definition of platonic. It’s perfect! Shit… But Sakusa would never agree with this kind of thing… right?

You steal glances at him. Fuck. He actually looks like he’s thinking about it. It’s not the usual indifferent face he’s making. He’s thinking. Wow. Years of friendship really do give you the ability to differentiate his micro-expressions.

“Look. It’s just… an idea. A good idea, can I say?” Komori wiggles his eyebrows and smiles proudly. “Given you guys’ predicaments. It’s like the stars aligned, y’know? I’ll definitely support you guys. There. You guys have my blessing,” he laughs.

You and Sakusa exchange quick glances. He shows a lack of repulsiveness. Now that you think about it, this thing actually fits him. But does he really think it is a good idea?

“Some friends do make marriage pacts or whatever it’s called,” Komori adds.

Oh, right. You definitely have heard about that. Something like if we’re not married by the age of… we should marry each other.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard something like that. But isn’t it complicated?” you ask.

“What would be complicated? It’s all for convenience, right?” Komori replies.

“That’s just insane, though…” you mutter.

You all go silent for a bit but then you try to change the topic and continue to talk about other trivial life updates. Other things that aren’t awkward and, again, crazy to think about. Your mind isn’t ready to handle the full visualization, especially with Sakusa right in front of you.

After another hour, you and the other two decide to head home. You still have to work tomorrow, after all. Urgh, the work thoughts on Sunday are the worst. These meet-ups with Sakusa and Komori always prove to be very recharging to your mental battery. You’re so glad to have this monthly meet-up with your two precious friends.

On your way home, you replay the conversation you had earlier about the platonic marriage and can’t help but think of how good of an idea it is. The words “financial” and “someone to come home to” ring in your head. Shit. You do often feel lonely in your apartment nowadays.

If you ever agree to do something like a platonic marriage, the idea of being married to Omi doesn’t sound bad at all. Your very dear friend since high school. Someone you’ve known for more than 10 years. Someone who knows your antics and vice versa. He can be a pain in the ass a lot of times, insensitive at times. But the good thing is that you can be blunt with him. He might be an ass, but he does always listen whenever you scold him for anything insensitive he does.

But anyway, it’s just an idea. It will be forgotten, right?

Spoiler: No, it’s not.

[kellysue]

Members of the cast of #FMLComix tell you how to pre-order #FMLComix.

FML #1 arrives in November 2024 with main cover art by David López and variant covers featuring artwork by Alvaro Martinez Bueno, David LaFuente, Nicola Scott (1:10 incentive variant), and Pepe Larraz (1:25 incentive variant). One additional variant cover will be revealed at a later date. Each issue will feature bonus material such as essays on music, true crime, interviews, and more that will be exclusive only to the single issues.

“David and I have been talking about doing something creator-owned together since Captain Marvel, but it took years for the stars and our schedules to properly align,” said DeConnick. “Now that we’re here though, it almost feels planned — like we needed exactly as long as it took us to grow and change, both as artists and as people, so that we could come back together for this big swing.

“FML is a challenging book — stylistically and in tone — and I’m not sure we could have pulled it off five years ago, honestly. But here we are—and I’m so proud of and impressed by the work put in by everyone involved. David is drawing like he’s got something to prove, Cris is pulling disparate styles together seamlessly, tying them together with her palette and Clayton of course, our ace and secret weapon, works his subtle magic on lettering to make sure you hear everything in your head exactly the way it was intended. McCubbin developed this terrific logo that evolves with each issue, and I don’t even know where to start with how supportive and inspiring Daniel Chabon’s editorial team has been. They’ve given us exactly what we needed at every step along the way.

“For my part, FML feels of a piece with Pretty Deadly and Bitch Planet; it’s as personal as the former and as satirical and of-the-moment as the latter.”

"This is without a doubt one of the best and most important books I have had the honor to edit in my fifteen years in the comic book industry,” added Senior Editor Daniel Chabon. “I have been a tremendous fan of this creative team for a long, long time; and I cannot wait for everyone to pick up this series and to see what an amazing achievement it is."

Riley is a 16-year-old heavy metal kid who draws down his anxiety with a ballpoint pen. His mother is an aging punk cartoonist slam dancing with a true crime obsession. Bound by threads of magical realism, they navigate the absurdities and horrors of our modern lives.

Issue one introduces Riley’s daily life: terrorism diaries, school shooter drills, and social pressures under the constant shadow of encroaching wildfires that rain ash like a morbid snow. His refuge? The Forest Park Witch’s House, where tales of chaos magic and trickster gods promise some semblance of sense in a senseless world.

Echoing the comedy of “Bottoms,” the nostalgic pull of “Stranger Things,” and the coming-of-age journey in “Stand By Me,” DeConnick’s first return to creator-owned comics since Bitch Planet is an apocalyptic odyssey that speaks to the resilience of the misfit and the power of art.

FML #1 (of 8) arrives in comic shops on November 6, 2024. It is now available to pre-order at your your local comic shop for $4.99.

Be sure to follow DarkHorseComics on social media and check our website, www.darkhorse.com for more news, announcements, and updates.

Praise Kelly Sue DeConnick and David López: “DeConnick has always combed top-notch lyrical text with a knack for bringing out the best in the artists she works with.”—Polygon

“Kelly Sue DeConnick either writes with a King Midas pen, is one of the few remaining wizards in the world, or, most likely, is just that damn good because Bitch Planet is yet another amazing series with her name on the cover.”—Word on the Nerd

“Pretty Deadly pushes at the limits of medium, challenging our ideas of what comics can be.”—IGN

“Kelly Sue DeConnick’s Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons may just be the best thing to come out of the Black Label line to date.”—IGN

“Kelly Sue DeConnick is a force in comics.”—Book Riot

“Kelly Sue DeConnick—a powerhouse in the comics world.”—Salon

“A primal scream in exquisitely worked gold.”—Polygon on Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons

“López’s pencils are like a breath of fresh air. His style evokes a classic superhero aesthetic while still bringing subtle emotional vulnerability to these characters through strong storytelling and page design.”—Nerds Unchained on Captain Marvel (2014)

[year2000electronics]

I absolutely LOVELOVELOVE your Reverse Falls HCs from what I've seen :). I would love to ask more about so much aspects haha.

What is Reverse Ford's main goal in this universe?

What is Ford' and Stanley's backstory?

Mind sharing some info about Reverse! Dipper and Reverse! Mabel?

HOKAY. i will use this ask to talk a little about the reverse stans' backstories because i have Some Ideas. as always full answer under cut bc its got images and rambles galore

in my mind, the gleeful family association with magic & the supernatural starts with caryn's phone psychic business, and ford having "The Gift" while stan ABSOLUTELY doesnt. but in real terms that means just having a really strong intuition and being able to guess well. (at least thats what filbrick and caryn thing. ford genuinely thinks he has some semblance of psychic ability and so does his mom, but they just havent properly honed it yet) and so ford is the preferred child for that, instead of his smarts really. ford is also obsessed with the supernatural still, but it's more focused on the magical aspect.

ford and stan's relationship ends up being close because stan is the only one who believes ford about magic. i mean there are other reasons but thats very important to ford

ford, seeing how stan has always had his back by believing what he says about magic, offers to try and "tutor" stan into having The Gift. drilling him for hours by holding up cards and making him guess, stuff like that. but yknow, since both of them are kinda clamoring to inherit their mom's business, stan kinda ends up relying on ford for everything, and theyre taking on almost a mentor-student relationship when theyre Literally Brothers.

instead of west coast tech, the scholarship ford is being offered is for a famous performing arts school after his teachers saw him take the leads in school plays year after year. they tell him a scout will be at their school's talent show, and ford decides he's going to put on a stage magic show (with stan as his assistant). this time, not only is stan worried about ford leaving, but also, since they've both been working towards a really similar thing (performing for a crowd), he's really worried he'll never get a chance to show off that HE has skill, too! ford brushes him off about this saying that he'll put a good word in for stan when he's at performing arts school and stan is like "ok." and agrees to be his assistant.

in the middle of ford's show, he goes rogue, trying to show the scouts that he can be just as skilled as ford is, and completely screws up the trick he ends up performing. ford doesnt get that internship, ford is furious, so is filbrick, stan gets kicked out, you know the rest.

ford goes to backupsmore and double-majors in both theatre and whatever he majors in in the show. he plans to move to gravity falls because of its high ratings of weirdness. after stan got kicked out, instead of becoming a traveling salesman, he becomes a street magician who doubles as a pickpocket. stealing peoples' watches and stuff. he runs around all over the place

ford digs up four mystic amulets once he gets to gravity falls and stays there for a while, and is like "oh man i can USE these". so how i imagine the amulets to work is that they're kinda like, a conduit through which you can learn legit magic? like casting spells and stuff. but he probably only needs one so he keeps the other three in his house (and that's how the kids eventually find the others)

and of course thats how he starts up the tent of telepathy!

but he wants more. he wants to make the world pay for ever calling him a six fingered freak. and he wants to prove to the world that his magic IS real. he can't just lie sequestered in gravity falls forever. so he goes hunting for more answers about gravity falls' weirdness, and how he might be able to get more POWER to make a show so good the entire world will see... and that's how he summons will cipher! will tells him about the portal, and how itll open up a dimension of weirdness into his own, and ford accepts on those terms, looking out just for himself. then he asks fidds to come help with the portal, fidds walks out on him, he shackles will to him in a deal, but they both realize they don't have the manpower to run the portal. reluctantly, ford calls stan up, telling him to come and that it's important.

...but of course that doesnt go well. stan initiates a physical fight and ford ends up getting sucked into the portal. will is left alone with stan, who tells him he can buzz off because HE certainly doesnt want him around. stan works for the next 30 years to get ford back because he wants ford to finally be the one who has to suck up to HIM and owe HIM something.

at some point, mason and mabel's parents become unable to take care of them and give them to stan. he reluctantly takes them in, but soon after, not only do they find the amulets but also journal 2, and they end up reactivating ford's deal with will, getting passed down to the "next of kin" after stan rejected it. AND THATS SORTA WHERE THE SHOW STARTS. THUMBS UP.

[feeder86]

The Girlfriend’s Boyfriend

College had hit Ant hard. He had never been academic, like his parents and, if he was completely honest with himself, he should have pushed harder against them when they had insisted that going there was the best option for him. With two older siblings, now settled in good careers, Ant’s mediocre degree was never going to get him particularly far in the world of work. Partly, it was his own fault. Having felt that he’d been shoehorned into a course that he had very little interest in, the teenage rebel had emerged from within him. He’d partied hard and decided that he wasn’t going to take anything too seriously. He’d had three years of beer, sex and good times; emerging from the experience a somewhat changed person.

At 6’5, Ant now felt clumsy in his work dress pants and shirt. He’d noticed his lifestyle starting to catch up with him by the start of the third year and he now tutted at his reflection as he looked in the mirror. If only he could afford better shirts, he wouldn’t have to put up with the way these ones clung to his small lovehandles and gently curved nature of his middle. He certainly wasn’t fat by any stretch of the imagination, but he was still a good thirty pounds away from the athletic physique he had once had; the six pack he’d acquired through hours of extra-curricular sports in high school, now very much buried under a stubborn little paunch. Ant was only twenty-two and already the dadbod had found him. 

Perhaps it was his height that made it so noticeable. He’d been tall, and almost lanky, his entire life. Even now, his face, his arms and chest, didn’t look any different. Yet, that infuriating little paunch had sprouted from his center and his rear had thickened into something a lot more meaty and protrusive than he had ever been used to; like his body was pushing out in both directions simultaneously.

Getting dates wasn’t as easy as it had once been. College had been an easy time to pick up girls, as well as the occasional guy. It was only now that he realised that real life didn’t resemble the college campus, even a tiny bit. He struck out on his own, renting a miniscule apartment in the city, hoping that he could acquire some semblance of the fun times he was used to, away from his parents. However, money was tight now his family weren’t funding him and Ant had come to accept that he was only really going to be able to go out once a week or so. 

Even so, staring at his reflection as he was now, Ant knew that he would have to divert some of his salary towards a gym subscription. He’d noticed women starting to stare at his more bloated midsection, right before they turned him down. He fussed with his tie, trying to see if the way it fell helped to conceal anything at all. It didn’t.

“You’ve got to go,” he said aloud to his little paunch, turning to the side and cringing as he realised how obviously it was pushing out. It was time to whip himself into shape.

It didn’t take long for Ant to recognise that he had seriously overestimated his own fitness. Swinging his legs on the crosstrainer, he had never felt more sweaty in his entire life. He took large mouthfuls of water until he made himself feel dizzy and nauseous. Then he sat back on the bench, catching his breath, no longer caring that his soaking t-shirt clung so unflattering his thick, rounded tummy.

That was the moment when she walked in; a beautiful, toned and outstandingly attractive woman of Ant’s age. Her butt was pert and well-shaped, captivating Ant’s attention immediately. She glanced in his direction, making Ant sit up immediately and try to suck in his paunch, whilst controling his breathing so that he looked natural. It must have worked as well, for the girl smiled at him before strutting over to the cross trainer. She glanced back again. Another smile; this time even broader. Was Ant really in with a shot?

Wasting no time, Ant went straight over and began making small talk, going at a very slow pace on the cross trainer next to the girl, whose name he soon discovered to be Bryony. He tried his best to summon his old college bravado and confidence with the ladies, even though he knew he was far from his prime. However, it seemed like he hardly even needed to try. Bryony laughed at all of his lame jokes and showed an interest in everything he had to say. Suddenly, Ant had gone from feeling like the biggest loser, to the guy other men were looking at with jealousy.

“You’re such a cutie,” Bryony smiled at him as she was wrapping up the workout that she had made seem entirely effortless. “Do you want to come shower with me? We can soap each other up…” she grinned suggestively.

Ant felt like all of his luck had come at once. Never in his whole life had he ever imagined getting hit on by a girl like this before. She held out her hand and led him into the ladies, where she locked the door, assuring him that they would not be disturbed at this time in the evening. Then, she seductvely undressed herself with a confidence in her body that Ant was unable to match. However, as he removed his shirt and revealed his little doughy middle, Bryony moaned in pleasure regardless; strapping her hands onto his lovehandles and pulling him in. Then, what followed next was pure heaven.

Bryony had explained in detail, even before they’d had sex, that she wasn’t the type of girl to be tied down. She had a few guys she liked to keep in her pocket, all with a variety of traits that she found attractive.

“So, what is it that you like about me?” Ant asked, pulling his shirt back on and still in shock that he’d actually got lucky with a girl like this.

“I love the dadbod look,” Bryony shot back without shame. “Cute little beer belly, bubble butt. You’ve got it all.”

Ant tried not to be taken aback. “Thanks…” he mumbled, trying to take it as a compliment, despite his very real instinct to feel insulted.

“You want to do this again sometime?” Bryony asked with a smile. “Not here though,” she stated assertively. “The gym’s not for guys like you,” she teased, rubbing Ant’s little paunch. “I don’t want you spoiling your look.”

Ant’s erection was bouncing back. He was ready to go again, even now. “Yes,” he nodded with absolute certainty. He’d walk over burning hot coals to have another session with Bryony. And so, he passed over his phone and let the most beautiful woman he had ever met enter her number.

“You’ve put on weight again,” Ant’s mother sighed, looking at her son as he came over for her birthday that summer. “What happened to you going to the gym?”

“It’s too expensive,” Ant grumbled. “Plus, I don’t think I need it. There are plenty of girls who dig this sort of look.”

Ant’s mother rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so, dear.”

But Ant smirked and helped himself to a huge slice of cake. His mother didn’t know about Bryony, but if she did, she’d know that she was entirely wrong about girl’s not liking a guy with a bit of a belly. Ever since he’d started sleeping with Bryony a few months ago, he’d never felt so satisfied in his life; in more ways that one. As a spoilt, trust-fund girl, Bryony was never short of money. Each time Ant went over, he was treated to beers and pizza that she’d get in just for him. She said it was part of what she found most attractive about Ant; his care-free attitude towards his diet and exercise; swooning at him as he guzzled all the beers, slobbed out on her sofa and effortlessly consumed every bit of takeout. Even as he gained another ten pounds… twenty pounds, the fact that he was sleeping with a girl like Bryony was a badge of honour that he wore like a shield around him, even as sly, thoughtless comments about his weight began to be thrown towards him by his friends and family.

As lucky as Ant felt in his current situation, he did have one slight niggle when it came to his fun times with Bryony. He’d long since stopped fantasising that he could ever tie the girl down and make her his. However, if they were just doing this for the sex, Ant wished she was a little more dominant. He’d fantasised about it over and over again: getting tied to the bed and ridden by her, whilst she fed him the large cream cakes that she seemed to get a strange kick out of seeing him enjoy.

Staring at himself as he emerged from the shower, Ant did what he usually avoided and took a long hard look at himself. From the chest up, he could fool himself into thinking that he was completely unaltered, But as water dripped from his deepening belly button, he couldn’t deny the ever increasing bloated shape of his middle. His pushed out paunch had started to create a fold along the top of his lovehandles, developing a shelf where his belly lunged forward, even appearing to harden slightly and feel less doughy than he had expected. He turned around and stared at the reason why his pants weren’t fitting anymore: the two puffy globes that had become his buttocks. Just what would his nineteen year old self think if he could see this right now? Still, nineteen year old Ant wasn’t fucking Bryony at least twice a week, so he was hardly losing in life. In fact, that horny nineteen year old Ant would still have swapped with him in a heartbeat.

Ant had been out with friends when he caught sight of Bryony. He felt like it was divine intervention, given how much teasing he’d had from his buddies about his weight gain. After only a couple of beers, his already distended gut was bloating and straining the buttons of his shirt, inviting pokes from all of the boys. Now, however, he could stroll back to the table with beautiful Bryony under his arm and show them all who he was actually fucking at the moment. That would show them.

“Hey,” he smiled, strolling over to the bar and tapping Bryony on her shoulder.

Bryony turned and smiled at him. However, as she did so, a large, muscular and possessive arm slid itself over her delicate shoulders. Ant looked across at a man, even taller than himself and easily more built and strapping than any other guy in the packed bar that night.  “Who’s this?” the enormous man asked Bryony, who was clearly his date for the evening.

“This is Ant,” Bryony smiled, reaching her hand up and holding the man’s big paw, making clear to Ant where her loyalties lay that evening. “Ant, meet Danny.”

“Oh, this is Ant!” Danny smiled, looking Ant up and down as if everything suddenly made perfect sense. “This is your little side project?” he smirked at Bryony, who shushed him with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy,” Ant mumbled to Bryony, deciding he should leave now, considering how intimidatingly big Bryony’s other boyfriend was. 

“Hey, Ant, stay there!” the large Danny shouted to him as he saw Ant turning to leave. “I’m getting you a beer.” He raised his hand and seemed to communicate what he wanted to the bar staff with only a simple nod of his head.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Ant shot back, trying to execute a graceful exit from this embarrassing situation. “I’m with my friends,” he pointed over to the corner that he wished he had never left.

Both Danny and Bryony looked over in the direction Ant was pointing, before Danny took the cold, frosty beer he had been handed by the bar staff and passed it over to Ant. “And now you’re with us,” Danny stated uncompromisingly.

Danny must have been something of a big deal around here, for he led them both to boothe that had been reserved for them in a quieter, more exclusive zone in the bar. Bryony slipped in first and Danny raised his hand politely for Ant to follow her next, before he sat his large, warm body down next, wedging Ant in like a prisoner; trapping him in place until he would eventually decide that Ant could go back to his friends.

“So, you’re fucking Bryony too?” Danny smiled, as if this situation was amusing and not eye-wateringly cringe-inducing.

Ant wanted the ground to swallow him up. Now that he was sitting next to Bryony’s date, the idea that Bryony would choose him over a strapping guy like Danny seemed utterly preposterous. “I guess you could say that,” he mumbled, making only fleeting eye contact with the enormous man.

“He’s cute,” Danny suddenly called across to Bryony. “I like him.”

Ant didn’t know where to look. Was Danny being sarcastic, or was this part of his game?

“Of course he is!” Bryony giggled back. “I don’t just fuck anyone, you know?”

Danny threw back his head and sank the fresh beer in his giant hand, before nodding to someone collecting bottles and silently ordering another. Then, as if to assert himself even more, he slipped his large hand over Ant’s shoulders and continued talking to him like he owned him entirely. 

Ant tried not to misread the situation. This could still all end in him getting beaten up by a jealous lover if he started taking the wrong cues. Still, his heart was beating fast at the idea that Bryony’s other boyfriend was actually into him. It had been a couple of years since he’d had a threesome with another guy, but Danny’s looks and confident demeanor were exciting him in ways that he had never known before.

“How do you feel about us taking your little project home with us tonight?” Danny asked Bryony whilst simultaneously adjusting his crotch, as if a huge erection had suddenly filled it.

“Sure,” Bryony smiled; her eyes twinkling at Danny’s playfulness; clearly the quality that she most loved about him.

“What about you?” Danny grunted into Ant’s ear. “You wanns come back to my place? I should warn you though, I’m… I’m no gentle lover!”

Ant allowed himself to look Danny in the eyes. The offer was indeed genuine, and as he felt the big man’s hand slide onto his thigh, there was only ever one answer he was going to give. The big man stood and graciously waited for Ant to stand too. Then he took Bryony’s hand and led them both to the back door of the bar that Ant suddenly realised the man must have owned. All three of them then slipped into a chauffeur diven car, where their horny hands began exploring each other all the way back to Danny’s apartment.

“Let’s see what I’ve got in the refrigerator,” Danny growled as soon as the door closed and he’d ripped off his shirt to reveal his incredibly ripped torso. He began striding off to his kitchen area whilst an overexcited Bryony stumbled and kissed Ant erotically all the way to the couch. 

“You’re in luck!” Danny cried, carrying an enormous double height cake towards them, decorated with the words, ‘Happy Birthday Mom’. He placed it down and popped open a beer for Ant.

“We’re not eating your mom’s birthday cake, are we?” Ant asked, imagining how much a cake like this had probably cost.

“Of course not,” Danny smirked. “You’re going to eat it.”

“But…” Ant began to protest.

“First rule of getting laid, my friend,” Danny cut him off straight away. “Always give the lady what she wants to see,” he nodded over at the horny Bryony who looked keen to watch her paunchy lover start to eat. She undid the last button on Ant’s shirt and spread the material out, revealing his fattened stomach. With that, Danny grabbed a handful of cake, smearing his hand across it like it was of no consequence at all. “Come on, buddy. It’s your time to shine,” he laughed, pressing his large fingers into Ant’s already gaping mouth, having just seen the size of Danny’s hardness, pushing against his designer pants. 

Bryony moaned immediately and Danny chuckled, feeling Ant starting to suck the icing from his fingers. Onwards Danny went, taking handfuls and handfuls of cake and pressing it towards Ant, rubbing the icing onto his nose and smearing it across Ant’s swollen tummy. It was indeed an entirely bizarre situation, and yet, Ant had never felt more aroused in his life. 

“You see, babe,” Danny nodded over to Bryony. “Your chubby boyfriend likes it.”

By the time they were making it into the bedroom, an overindulged Ant was more than pumped up ready for what was to come next. He’d never in his life been penetrated by a guy, yet there was now nothing he wanted more. He slid off his underwear and finally presented his naked, oversized rear just as he had been ordered to. He couldn’t deny that it felt more than a little uncomfortable to start with. However, with Bryony’s hand servicing his needs at the same time, Ant was soon climaxing with a force that he knew most people would never experience in their entire lives.  

“I see Bryony’s gone already,” Danny chuckled, striding back into the bedroom the next morning, having just done a quick check of his apartment whilst completely naked. “She does that a lot. “I’ve never known a girl so good at sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Ant groggily opened his eyes. The smell of sweet sugar filled his nostrils and he realised the icing that had decorated his body during their kinky threesome was now smeared aross the sheets. “I’m so sorry!” he gasped, feeling suddenly sticky and gross. “It’s everywhere!”

“Yeah, it is!” Danny laughed, starting to rub his dick and bring it back to life. “Last night was fucking hot, huh? I’ve never fucked one of Bryony’s boyfriends before.”

Ant looked over and smiled. “You enjoy fucking the competetion?” he joked. He could perhaps understand everything Danny had done last night, feeding and fucking Ant for Bryony’s thrill. Yet, Bryony was no longer even here and he was still coming onto him.

“I’ve ordered in some food for your breakfast,” the man smirked, jumping onto his bed and lying on his side; every one of his muscles popping beautifully. “You’re going to stay here and let me feed it all to you,” he teased, pulling with one arm around Ant’s hip to drag him effortlessly towards him, before gently teasing the chubby boy’s dick back to life.

“Oh, I am, am I?” Ant asked, feeling the blood rushing to his crotch. He’d never been fucked by someone before last night and in doing so, he felt like he had surrendered something to Danny that he could never get back. That thought in itself, was enough to get his stomach rumbling for whatever Danny wanted to put in it.

Ant felt different over thenext few days. Up until last week, he could never imagine anyone invading his thoughts as much as Bryony had. But was that because he hadn’t met Danny yet? The way Danny had taken charge and dominated him had been the stuff of his most elusive dreams. But, more than that, Danny was an open book who wasn’t afraid to say what he liked and what was turning him on. 

Bryony, on the other hand, was an enigma, with an agenda that was almost unfathomable. She messaged Ant when she wanted him and never any more. Whereas Danny had messaged several times a day, keeping Ant hard all week with all of the kinky things he said he wanted to do to him when he saw him next.

“Bryony’s trying to fatten you up. You do realise that, don’t you?” Danny asked him the following weekend as they met up for a coffee. “That’s what she means when she calls you her ‘project.’”

“I figured something like that,” Ant nodded, taking a bite out of the muffin Danny had bought him.

“I saw the stretch marks on your stomach. She’s doing a pretty good job by the looks of things,” Danny grinned wickedly, leaning his head to the side, as if that gave him a better view of the rounded pot belly Ant was acquiring in his middle.

“A pretty good job,” Ant nodded, begrudgingly agreeing.

Danny raised his eyes, seemingly surprised by Ant’s response. “Do you think I could do a better job?”

Ant knew he wouldn’t be standing up any time soon, and that was just as well. What was it about Danny that just got him so incredibly aroused? “Maybe,” he replied coyly, not quite understanding why this whole scenario was turning him on so much.

“Maybe,” Danny chuckled, repeating Ant’s response back to himself. He shook his head, as if insulted that Ant hadn’t agreed with him. “Do you even have any comprehension of how many calories I pushed down your throat the other night with that cake? I’m going to fatten you up. I’m going to put a great big belly on you, Fatso!”

Ant’s eyes widened and he looked around, suddenly very aware of how public a setting this was.

Danny simply laughed. “Am I embarrassing you?” he teased, stretching his big, muscular body out, like his outstanding physique wasn’t already attracting enough attention. “I love that! You’re such a cute little fatty when you’re embarrassed!”

That was the moment Ant realised that Danny was completely without any hangups or shame. If he wanted to take Ant and make him his own, he would do. And Ant’s resolve to resist him was rapidly ebbing away.

Ant didn’t speak to Bryony about his meet-ups with Danny in the coming weeks, and he sensed that Danny was keeping it quiet as well. Perhaps that’s what gave the whole thing an additional layer of mischief for them both. Ant lavished attention on Bryony and yet, he secretly wished that it was her other boyfriend that was playing with his dick instead. The more time he spent around Danny, the more tame the situation with Bryony seemed to become. She simply didn’t have that spark of domination or hedonism that Ant found so wildly intoxicating in Danny. A fuck with Danny was the most satisfying experience he had ever known. A fuck with Bryony, less so.

As Ant’s older sister dutifully produced a grandchild for their parents, Ant sensed their disapproval of him shift into bewildered disappointment. When was he going to bring home a nice girl for them to meet? Someone he would settle down with and start a family?

“You know, you’ve got to stop getting take-out every night,” his mother complained.

“I don’t get take-out every night,” Ant sighed, knowing that his much larger belly was about to crop up in conversation once again.

“Well, you’re clearly doing something wrong. You’re starting to look like your Uncle George with that big tummy.”

Ant sighed. It had never taken much for him to feel like the black sheep of the family, but now he was starting to look so much different to them all as well. The arrival of his pointed nipples had seemed to occur overnight, and a little puddle of fat was starting to appear under his chin. “Some people like this chunky look,” he shot back defiantly.

“They really don’t, darling,” his mother scoffed back. “No woman wants to wake up next to that,” she poked at the firm, rounded pot belly on her son.

Ant laughed. He was never going to get the approval of his mother, so why try? “Trust me, mom,” he smirked, heading over to the cookie jar. “You’re dead wrong about this one.”

Bryony’s calls were getting fewer and further between, leaving Ant wide open to the forceful whims of Danny. The guy’s confidence was inspiring and when Ant was with him, he felt very much within the clutches of someone wielding an extreme power over him.

“What’s the most fattening thing on your menu?” Danny would ask wherever they went out together; enjoying watching the chub squirm as he explained without a hint of shame that he was very much deliberately trying to make Ant fatter. He would create scenarios where he could take things further, once spending an insane amount of money on a new suit for Ant, just so that he could explain to the tailor that he needed something that would still fit the fattening Ant for an imaginary wedding in six months time.

“As you can see, he tends to gain weight in that chubby rear of his, and his gut keeps pushing out further and further. In general, he puts on about five pounds a month. So…” he pretended to do the math, “...I’ll need something that’ll still work with another 30lbs of blubber on his frame.” 

The tailor stuttered and mumbled through it all as Ant stood there, watching Danny having his fun, seeing both of them cringe with embarrassment. However, the rewards when Ant got home were more than enough to make up for it.

Numbers seemed to be a bit part of Danny’s motivation and he had talked endlessly about the day when Ant would finally reach three hundred pounds. He spoke about it as though it were a forgone conclusion that Ant would get there in a matter of weeks, and his prediction turned out to be exactly right. Due to his extreme height, Ant had always been used to people being surprised at how heavy he was. Even at his slimmest in college, he had been just a little more than 190lbs. But hitting three hundred had turned Danny on like never before, ejaculating into Ant’s mouth with a force and volume he had never known.

From that point on, Ant had really started to feel his obesity taking hold; or perhaps it was simply his laziness taking over. Everything took that little bit more effort, whilst the thigh rubbing and sweating had become a part of everyday life. His width and mass was catching him off guard, particularly when he tried to squeeze his oversized rear through a tight spot. The fat had begun spreading a little more evenly across his body, finally hitting his arms and neck for the first time. But no matter how awkward his shape appeared, Danny still couldn’t seem to get enough of him, very quickly shifting from talking about making Ant three hundred pounds, to suddenly fantasising about four hundred.

It wasn’t that Ant had surrendered entirely to Danny’s desires. After a weekend away with some of his old college friends, he’d started to realise just how much fatter and out of shape he had become since his studying days; constantly needing to sit down after all the walking they had done. At that point, he’d secretly joined a gym and had aspirations to get back in shape. But even after paying for a six month subscription, Ant had only found the motivation to go twice. It had been a stupid waste of cash that would have been better spent on upgrading his clothes which continued to stretch and tighten, making him nervous to bend down in work.

When Ant’s landlord had put his rent up, he’d seriously considered the idea of moving back in with his parents. But when he’d mentioned this to Danny, the big man had had very different ideas altogether. He’d moved swiftly, getting Ant a very nice, plush apartment in a building he owned not far from his own. He seemed to relish the opportunity to do this for his lover, insisting that all he wanted in return was for Ant to use a little more of his new disposable income to feed his greedy appetite with a few extra take-outs each month. It was all so perfect. Here, the elevator actually worked, it was closer to his workplace and he was within easy reach of a constantly horny Danny.

After three months in the new place, Ant’s weight was creeping up faster than ever. On a day-to-day basis, he wasn’t especially noticing it. However, in work, his desk chair was squealing in agony as he parked his heavy rear down, or shifted his weight in it; garnering him looks of irritation from his colleagues.

With an easing on his finances, Ant had developed a taste for different beers, tasting many from around the world. It was a hobby that Danny had been able to indulge him in, owning several bars around the city and sourcing large quantities of the chub’s favorites at no cost. 

“Have you heard from Bryony lately?” a naked Ant asked, gorging himself on all the pizza Danny had brought over with him.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Danny mumbled disinterestedly back. “Why?”

“She’s not replied to me in weeks,” Ant complained. “She’s not even been over to check out my new place.”

Danny gave a chuckle, like he was entirely unsurprised by this. He reached his large hand down and patted the great shelf of belly fat that Ant now had at three hundred and forty five pounds. “I think you may be getting a bit too fat for her these days,” he laughed with pride.

It had been a reflex that Ant couldn’t help, but he knew that Danny had seen it. At being told he was ‘too fat’ for Bryony, his dick had spasmed and dribbled slightly in arousal, making him flush red with embarrassment.

“What was that?” Danny asked with mocking laughter. “Did you just get harder when I said that?”

“No…” Ant mumbled in an attempt to recover.

“I’ve made you too fat for Bryony…” Danny whispered into his ear, keeping a keen eye on Ant’s crotch as he did so. Sure enough, the instinctive bounce and pulse of Ant’s erection happened again.

“Stop!” Ant chuckled with laughter, embarrassed by how easily Danny had gained an insight into the inner workings of his mind.

“Are you turned on because you’re all mine now? The fact that you know that I’m not going to stop making you fatter and fatter and fatter…?”

Ant sighed as Danny expertly took hold of his hardness and began stroking it. He relaxed into it and closed this eyes. So what if Danny knew this control and ownership of him turned him on so much? It was always an inevitability that he would find out some day. He moaned aloud, letting Danny know that he was enjoying his work. He didn’t even notice the cream cake coming towards him until it was smashing against his mouth; cream spreading up, even into his nostrils.

It was amazing what you could do with money. When Ant’s weight gain had stalled a few weeks’ later, Danny had brought a nutritionist over with him one evening. Ant had no idea how much the guy was paying him: double or triple his usual rate? He’d assumed a nutritionist would find it immoral to sit there and listen to a three hundred and sixty pound fat man list all the foods he liked, whilst he wrote them all down and tried to think of ways to combine them in order to restart another massive weight gain. 

The whole time, Danny sat with his huge arm over Ant’s shoulders, as if comforting and supporting him through this process, like some sort of therapy. It was Danny who asked all the questions, explained in detail when Ant appeared to be most hungry during the day and the periods in which his gains had happened most rapidly. The meeting was deadly serious; enough so that Ant didn’t feel his usual embarrassment that he experienced when Danny put him through situations like these. Mostly, he was in awe at how much detail and attention Danny had put into his gains so far; listing with such precision the ingredients for weight gain shakes he’d made for Ant in the past and the patterns of Ant’s behaviour that usually led to the best results.

By the time the nutritionist left, Danny held several pages of notes in his hand and looked at Ant seriously. This was happening. There wouldn’t be one single piece of advice that he wouldn’t be following. Very shortly, Ant was going to experience a very sudden, a very serious, and very extreme weight gain.

Part of Danny’s plan was to take Ant on a two week vacation with him; a cruise through the Carribean, with every manner of luxury included. It was the opportunity of a lifetime to experience such a vacation, and Ant had a sense that he didn’t want to waste a single moment of it. Having Danny with him for two whole weeks was something he never thought he would be treated to. He expected that, after a couple of days, the guy’s interest would inevitably turn to one or more of the beautiful, attractive women on the ship; especially given the way that they were ogling him as Danny strutted about by one of the several swimming pools onboard. However, the reality was somewhat different. Danny was horny from the moment that they set off for the port and he remained so for the entire time. So openly affectionate with him, Ant got used to feeling the kinky guy’s hand resting on his increasingly bulbous rear as they were moving around the many different areas of the ship. It helped Ant to have the sense that he belonged to Danny; only heightening his already ravenous appetite.

Those two weeks seemed to change everything. Not only had Ant experienced a rather sudden and dramatic tightening in all of his clothes, but he had actually found himself falling for Danny in a very real and personal way. He sensed that Danny had rather special feelings for him as well, although he knew they were perhaps never truly compatible. When Ant compared himself with the other people he knew Danny fucked, he realised that he was the only one who lacked that playful, mischievous quality that Danny found so appealing; Bryony being a key example of someone with the type of ‘spark’ that Ant simply lacked.

“Thanks for everything these last two weeks,” Ant mumbled; the car steadily moving towards his apartment as they arrived back in the city. “I’ve really enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Me too!” Danny smirked, playing with Ant’s hair and stroking the little double chin that appeared more pronounced than ever on his lover.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to fit into my work pants tomorrow morning,” he chuckled, secretly dreading the inevitable fight he was going to have with buttoning himself up.

“Just keep carb-loading before bed, like the nutritionist said,” Danny nodded, seeing that they were already on Ant’s street and sweeping his large hand over the bulk of Ant’s extensive gut one last time before the fat man would leave the car and be handed his bags by the driver.

“What are you doing tonight?” Ant asked, trying to prolong their time together; even just a few seconds.

“I’m not sure,” Danny shrugged. He was always so busy. Even during the vacation there had been times when the man had disappeared for an hour or so in order to handle business matters. “I have a girl who wants to come over, so I’ll probably be with her.”

The thought cut through Ant like a knife. “Bryony?” he asked, trying to remain casual.

“No, not Bryony,” Danny laughed, seeming to have gone off her over the last few weeks.

The door was opened for Ant, his bags waiting on the sidewalk for him: The end of the ride.

Back upstairs in his tiny apartment, Ant felt the blues washing over him. Not only was the perfect vacation over, but the man he had fallen for was already back on his cell phone, arranging his next hook up. Was this what his life was going to be like from now on? Passing from one kinky fat boy lover to another. Until, like Bryony, he became too boring, or unattractive to them, then have to start all over again? That wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he deserved. 

He looked at himself in the mirror; a handsome 6’5 man, with a full, rounded belly and wide, fat rear. That morning, before breakfast, he had weighed in at more than three hundred and eighty five pounds. His blubbery chest was starting to come in beautifully and the double chin was now more striking than it had ever been before. He pulled his head back and observed the wedge of fat that was begnnning to creep around the back of his neck; spectacular. But more than that, he was greedy and lazy; completely converted to this hedonistic lifestyle that Danny found so arousing to observe; the manner in which he wanted him to live. So why wasn’t he here now, living it with him? Enjoying all this with him? Working towards the next hundred pounds of pure fat to add to his body?

It was then that Ant decided what he wanted to do. It was all or nothing; playing for the win, or nothing at all. Danny was about to see that Ant really did have that ‘spark’ inside him after all.

A few hours later, Ant was taking a deep breath, just outside the door to Danny’s apartment. Then, with the key Danny had accidentally left in his apartment six weeks ago, Ant charged inside, carrying the three boxes of pizza and bag of treats he had picked up on the way over. Although he tried not to look at them, he caught sight of Danny with an unknown, slender girl, making out on his couch, all dressed up after a night at some fancy restaurant. Ant pretended not to care, simply making his way over to the kitchen area to set his things down. He reached into the freezer and pulled out the expensive ice cream that Danny kept in and helped himself to a spoon from the drawer, throwing off the lid as if to have a light snack before starting his three pizzas.

“Wha…What are you doing here?” Danny asked, running over in shock and leaving his beautiful date looking completely perplexed on the couch. “What are you wearing?”

Ant grinned. It had been an embarrassing subway ride over here, but he was glad that Danny had immediately noticed the extreme tightness of his sweatpants and t-shirt that hadn’t fit for the last fifty pounds. “I got hungry, so I thought I would come over.” He looked over at Danny’s date and called across. “This guy has the best ice cream in the world! He buys it in for me because it’s super fattening.”

Danny made to try and stop him, but seemed to realise the futility of it the moment Ant began lifting his shirt off and digging into the ice cream with a lustful hunger. “I’m sorry about this,” he called back to his date, despite appearing to be holding back the urge to laugh as he covered his face with his enormous hands, simply watching the blubber on Ant’s body jiggle and sway in full view as he went back in for another scoop. Then, out came one enormous slice of pizza, which Ant began feeding to himself.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Danny’s date asked, finally getting up and standing next to Danny with a possessive hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, did Danny not mention me?” Ant asked, reaching his greasy hand out for her to shake. “I’m Ant. I’m Danny’s little piggy project.”

At this, Danny cracked up and laughed.

“I’m sorry, what?” his date asked, now completely unsure about which one of them to look at.

“I’m Danny’s Fat Boy,” Ant went on, grabbing the underside of his belly and jiggling it. “Danny wants to fatten me up to five hundred pounds as fast as possible. That’s why he buys me all of this food. We just got back from a two week cruise where he absolutely stuffed me all day and all night long.”

“This is…” the girl grumbled, feeling like Ant was playing around with her. “Danny, what on Earth is going on here?”

Danny simply laughed, his face full of joy from the embarrassment of this situation. He went to speak, then laughed again, before finally shaking his head and replying: “Well, I guess it’s like he says. Ant’s my little piggy project!”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” Ant went on, moving from behind the counter and pointing at his stomach. “Which of these new stretch marks do you think looks the cutest? Danny loves this angry looking one here.”

Danny was almost creasing over with amusement now, watching his date’s confusion and impatience starting to boil over. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. But when one was not forthcoming, she grabbed her purse from the kitchen island and stormed out, throwing the door behind her.

“She’s a feisty one!” Ant chuckled, as they both jumped from the banging of the door.

“Well, can you blame her?” Danny laughed, seeing the obese intruder beginning to take down another huge slice of pizza. “You gatecrashed our date with your ice cream and fast food.”

“I think my huge belly might have had something to do with it as well,” Ant joked, grabbing a wedge of stomach fat and jiggling. “Plus that little bit where I mentioned being a piggy project.”

Danny laughed again from the memory of it. “Yeah!” he nodded in approval. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“Dunno,” Ant shrugged. “Maybe I’m just sick of waiting around and wanted to grab your attention in the best way I could think of.”

“Trust me, Fat Boy,” Danny smirked, looking at the huge size of Ant. “No one can get away with ignoring you these days!” He reached out and grabbed the discarded t shirt that Ant had been wearing. “Did you come all the way over here wearing this? It barely goes below your belly button these days!”

“It’s my favourite shirt. I’m not going to just stop wearing it just because it no longer fits,” Ant replied defiantly back.

Danny exhaled with a look of pure bliss. “Oh shit, man…you’re just so fucking perfect! I love you! I love you so fucking much!”

Ant was momentarily startled. “You really mean that?” he asked. “Because I know that we started this whole thing based on a kinky little threesome. But… I want more.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what you want?” Danny grinned, bemused by Ant’s sudden confidence.

“I want to move in here full time.”

“Sure,” Danny chuckled, looking around the huge space as if he would barely even notice someone else living there. “Fine by me.”

“I want to quit work so that I don’t have to squeeze my fat ass into those tiny little work pants anymore.”

“That’s understandable,” Danny nodded with a quiet delight. “Anything else?”

Ant thought for a moment. This had all gone even better than he could have ever hoped for. Now that he was here, in the moment, he realised that Danny had been waiting for him to step up like this for quite some time.

“I want to get fat. I want you to get me seriously fucking fat, so that we have people staring at us everytime they see us together.” Now Danny’s grin was as wide as Ant had ever seen it. “You’re going to be quite the spectacle,” he nodded in agreement; his erection pressing so clearly up against his pants. “A real lardass!”

“A handsome man like you, dating a huge, fat monster like me… everyone is going to know you’re a feeder.”

“I think you’re right,” Danny beamed, moving in to kiss his very obese lover; seemingly in love with the idea that Ant’s body alone would soon be enough to show the world how kinky and dominant he was with him.

Ant couldn’t help but giggle with excitement. “And, one more thing…” he whispered. “Never ever stop showing me off…” he finished, right before Danny kissed him with unfiltered passion.

“Put this back on,” Danny suddenly commanded, throwing the seriously undersized shirt back at Ant. “Leave the pizzas. I’ll feed them to you in the morning. I’m taking you out to eat.”

“But you’ve only just got back in, haven’t you?” Ant asked in surprise. The whirlwind that was Danny had just changed course once again.

“Yeah. And now I’m taking my piggy project out for a feed,” he laughed, tapping the wide, reulsively chubby rear on his lover in order to speed him out of the door. “There’s no way I’m wasting an outfit like this just feeding you at home.”

Ant rolled his eyes but smiled with pleasure nonetheless, out in the hallway once again.

“It’s time to grow, Fat Boy!”

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Fifteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IMPORTANT NOTE* hey ya'll! just a reminder that my requests are OPEN. please read this POST before making any requests as i have rules in place. there are four spots left (which you will see at the bottom of the linked post). so get your requests in if you're wanting to use me;p

            You taught yourself to not wish for the obvious in the end of times. You stopped wondering what ever happened to your parents, your friends, your neighbors. You quit hoping that someway, somehow, the world would heal itself & you would find yourself & millions of others back to some semblance of a normal life. But most off all, you didn’t dream about waking up from this nightmare. It was real. It was happening. And all you could do was run with it. But what you would spend your time wishing for is that time would move faster.

            The last week dragged by miserably. Though you were glad to have your own secure role in the group, it was oftentimes lonely. Those who scavenged were gone for days at a time, & those who didn’t worked together day-in & day-out. You were the only one who had this small corner of the building to yourself, & others rarely came to visit. One visitor you could always count on though was Rafe.

            Though you were still wary of him, of the truths he told you, you still welcomed his presence. It was your only real human connection in the midst of all the bullshit. But your relationship with Rafe was beginning to bother you.

            It wasn’t until a couple days ago when you were heading to the mess hall to get your lunch that you heard voices talking carelessly about you. The mess hall was large, where people sat to eat at the other end of it, but voices carried, & the voices that day were as clear as glass.

            Your assimilation to the group was being mocked. They welcomed you, at first. But that was only when you were working alongside them. Now, the others were beginning to resent you. You heard as such before entering the mess hall, pausing outside the door to listen.

            “Everyone knows that manning a radio is easy work. Boring, but easy.” One voice began. From what little interaction you had with the others, you thought it to be Enzo.

            “Don’t forget useless.” Another pointed out & the others chuckled at that.

            “Seriously. She doesn’t help at all. Rafe giving her that role was stupid, in my opinion. I mean, he told us when we got here that they were on the radio for days, only hearing recycled announcements. No one else is out there.”

            You frowned at that but you knew it to be true.

            “He just puts her there to keep an eye on her. He’ll bitch at us about pulling our weight but god forbid if he gives his whore a task worth doing.”

            Your heart slammed in your chest at the insult. These people weren’t your friends, but they were supposed to be your community. Now, every smile they gave you felt forced. Every greeting was just a means to keep the peace. They didn’t care about you, they thought so little of you. But perhaps they were right.

            Squaring your shoulders, you entered the mess hall, & the voices quieted instantly. But they played it off well.

            Maddy elongated her neck, spotting you over Enzo’s shoulder, “Hey, _____.”

            You waved a hand but said nothing in return. You gathered some food on your plate & got yourself a cup of water before leaving. You didn’t miss the judgmental scoffs as you did,

            “Guess she’s too good for us now.” They all laughed.

            Back down in the office, you threw your plate onto the desk, some food falling off. You weren’t hungry, but you couldn’t show weakness in front of them. You didn’t need friends. But the thought saddened you. Only a few months ago you had nine of them. But the world took the lives of half of them & the remaining few had little to say to you. Even Bear.

            You thought a lot about Bear. You’d often catch him watching you with a concerned expression. It wasn’t filled with annoyance or resentment like the others. But you rarely had time to speak to him. Rafe was always nearby to interject, send Bear to do a task or find some reason to talk to you. Deep down, you knew Bear was your only friend, but you didn’t know how to get alone with him.

            Downing your glass of water, you picked at your food mindlessly. The other were right though. After doing comms for a week there was nothing out there, no one. At first, you felt it was an important role & were happy to take it. But now, the others & their whispers were getting to you. You pushed your plate further back on the desk, your appetite lost.

            It was midday, the scavengers were expected to return at some point today, as long as everything went according to plan & it usually did. You hoped to sneak some alone time with Bear. And as you thought about it further, Micah, too. Yes, he hated you, that much was clear. His reasoning was ridiculous but you could live with it. However, he was the one who could get you partnered with the scavengers. He had Rafe’s ear. If you got his approval, you didn’t see why it wouldn’t lead to Rafe’s. Scavenging was, after all, a lot more useful than the comms. The others would quit shit talking then.

            You were beginning to doze off in your chair, the sound of white noise acting like a lullaby when it began to cackle & pop. You opened your eyes, confused & staring at the radio. It sounded like when you’re on the phone with someone & they forget to hang up, putting their phone in their pocket. All muffled movement. And then…

            “Come in, hello.” The voice was clear as day before the radio cackled some more, the signal weak.

            You rushed forward, knocking items off the desk in the process. You snatched the walkie connected to the radio.

            “Hello, hello.” You spoke back, your heart pounding. As far as you knew, no one had ever made contact with another on this radio.

            The radio continued to produce only white noise, but just underneath it all, you could make out the muffle of the voice.

            “We—” more white noise.

            “I’m here!” You gasped, grateful to hear others. But with the connection so weak you were fearful you wouldn’t get a location of where they were at.

            “Our connection is weak.” You shared, hoping they could at least hear you better than you them, “Where are you?”

            More muffling. More pops.

            The voice responded but it was too static to make out, the interference strong. You gripped the talkie tighter.

            Then, one word made it through.

            “—of Rockingham.”

            Dropping the walkie, you rolled your chair over to the back wall were a map of North Carolina was pinned, the edges fraying.

            Your eyes rapidly moved over the map. Rockingham. Rockingham.

            There!

            It was 60 miles south of Asheboro, a feasible hour drive. You returned to the desk, your voice frantic with excitement as you spoke into the walkie.

            “Where in Rockingham?”

            The radio only responded with white noise. You asked the question again.

            No. You couldn’t lose them. This was the first sign of life.

            “Hello, I’m losing you.” You shared. But there was no response.

            The radio only returned with it’s usual white noise. You tossed the walkie down in frustration. You had lost them. But it wasn’t all said & done quite yet. Glancing over your shoulder, you eyed Rockingham on the map. The voice had said ‘of Rockingham’. That left a lot to consider. East of Rockingham? West? And if so, how far in either direction? What was their nearest landmark? Or did they mean the Walmart of Rockingham? The precinct? The possibilities were endless. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

            But it was something. The first something any of the group had had in weeks. You wouldn’t be useless. And more so, you could be the one to find them. You only needed to get Micah & Rafe on board.

            Rafe joined you in time for when the scavengers returned. He still wouldn’t trust you alone with them. It aggravated you, but you couldn’t let it show. You needed him to think you were trustworthy.

            As Matt & Robbie passed off boxes & bags of what they found off to Micah & Bear, you & Rafe were in charge of bringing the goods inside. But shortly after you started, Adrianna appeared.

            “Rafe.” She stood in the doorway, her eyes hard, “We need you upstairs. Got a problem.”

            Rafe sighed heavily, “Can it wait? We just got started.”

            “I guess.” She shrugged, “I’ll just tell the others I won’t know how long till the water’s back on.”

            “Shit.” He groaned. It had been a nice surprise to learn that the Mill still had running water. But if they water supply was giving grief, it’d only be a matter of time before a domino effect happened.

            Rafe turned to you, “Keep bringing stuff in, alright?”

            “Yeah, alright.” You nodded. Rafe stepped forward, his hand on your shoulder as he leaned forward to leave a kiss on your temple. You forced a small smile up at him.

            Once Rafe & Adrianna were gone, you went back outside. This was your moment. You had to get Bear alone. You couldn’t trust Rafe with the information about the others. Not yet.

            Micah spotted you first, his expression always one of irritability.

            “Where the fuck is Rafe?”

            You nodded back towards the building, “Had other priorities.”

            “Fuckin’ of course.” Micah mumbled.

            On the ground was a pile of goods. But you wouldn’t be able to carry them all yourself. At the risk of appearing weak, you got Micah’s attention.

            “I’m gonna need help with these.” You gestured to the goods at your feet, “Bear can help me.”

            Micah glared at you, his eyes narrowed. But he ultimately shook his head, “Whatever, just make it fuckin’ fast.”

            Bear stepped away from the other side of Micah, helping you to gather what you could carry. He followed after you as you led him back towards the building. Once you were far enough away, you kept your voice hush.

            “Bear.” You began, “I heard people on the radio.”

            Bear looked at you with wide eyes as he glanced over his shoulder in Micah & the other’s direction.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes!” You whispered excitedly. Inside, you felt safer to speak louder. “They’re in Rockingham. Or near it. I’m not sure. The connection was weak.”

            Bear frowned but nodded. You two took your time putting the goods away.

            “We can go.” You told him, “Find them.”

            But Bear slowly shook his head, “That’s not a good idea.”

            Now, it was your turn to frown, “Why not?”

            Bear sighed, looking you deep in the eyes, “Because Rafe’ll kill them.”

            You returned his stare, “I wasn’t talking about Rafe…”

            It was then that Bear seemed to understand what you were saying.

            “You think we should leave?”

            “Yes.” You nodded, checking the window to make sure Micah & the others were still far away. “You & me, we’ll go. Leave here. Join others.”

            “I’m not against that, but…why?”

            “Because Rafe told me how he runs things. How he’s killed people. And I feel like he’s not telling me the whole truth.”

            “What has he told you?” Bear squinted his eyes.

            “Doesn’t matter. I don’t trust him. And he doesn’t trust us, that much is clear. So, I say we make a run for it. Head to Rockingham, see if we can’t find those on the radio. But if anything, at least were gone from here.”

            Bear leaned against the wall, contemplating your words. He nodded.

            “That’ll be tough, ya know. Getting out of here. Rafe keeps it tight.”

            “But you know how he runs things. I don’t. We’ll work together & get out.”

            He stared hard at the ground, “Are you sure, _____? Because if he finds out what we’re planning, there’s no saying what he’ll do.”

            “I know.” You nodded in agreement, “But I’ll feel safer out there with you then with all of them in here.”

            “Alright.” Bear stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest, “We’ll do it. But we’ll need a solid plan. No fucking up.”

            “I know.”

            “Hey!” You both jumped as Micah suddenly appeared. His flashed between the two of you. “The fuck is taking so long?”

            “Sorry.” You mumbled.

            “Get back out there.” Micah growled. Bear gave you a look, one that said you two would talk later, before leaving the room. You were about to follow behind him when Micah stepped in your way.

            “What the hell were you two just talking about?”

            You eyed him innocently, shaking your head, “Nothing. Bitching, really.”

            “Yeah? About what?” Micah narrowed his eyes, his favorite look to give you.

            “Just life.” You gave a half-hearted smile.

            Micah leaned forward then, his voice low, “At least you have one.”

            The threatening undertone was there. He leaned back, meeting your eyes, “I’d be grateful.”

            “Of course.” Your voice was barely audible. Micah stared at you for a moment longer before finally stepping to the side to allow you to pass.

            You rushed forward, your heart thrumming inside your ribcage. Back outside you resumed loading goods inside but Micah was keeping a close eye on the two of you. It felt like you were back in school after having gotten caught passing notes in class. You were a bad seed. Micah wanted to rip your roots out.

            You were alone, finishing the final bit of unloading when Bear appeared. It was quick, but to the point.

            “He heard us.” Bear began, referencing Micah, “We leave tonight. Meet me in the back alley. There’s a hole in the wall near the room where Rafe kept me. Don’t bring anything with you, it’ll draw his attention.”

            “What?” There was no plan. It would be too dangerous, “But we—”

            “We go or we suffer.” Bear interjected. He was about to leave, in a hurry to not be spotted by Micah but you grabbed his arm.

            “When tonight?”

            Bear sniffed, “It’s gonna rain. You can see it in the clouds. When you hear the first thunderclap, go. I’ll set a distraction.”

            You nodded. Then he was gone.

            You swallowed a lump that was growing in your throat. This was really happening. You & Bear would be leaving. Your hands shook as you put items from the scavenging away.

            “What’s got you spooked?” You jumped slightly at Rafe’s voice behind you.

            Spinning around, you shook your head, “You were right about Micah.”

            Rafe’s eyes hardened at that, “What’d he do?”

            “Nothing.” You replied breathlessly, “Just scared me is all.”

            It was true, but it would also track if Rafe confronted him. He’d be focused on Micah, not you. And that’s what you needed.

            “What’d he do, _____?” He grabbed your elbow gently, but was firm in making you look at him.

            “Just said I should be grateful I have a life.” You mustered a smile, “See? So, nothing bad.”

            Rafe looked away, his eyes wide with fury, “Go upstairs. You’re done for the day. I’ll talk to Micah.”

            “Okay.” You went to move past him but he was still holding you.

            “I’d never let him hurt you, you know that, right?”

            “I do.”

            Rafe nodded then brought you closer. His mouth found yours, his lips warm. You forced yourself to return the kiss. At least you had him in your favor, & you’d be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it.

            “Go, I’ll see you in a bit.”

            With that, you parted from Rafe & walked away, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before you were released from him for good.

            It was dark out. Heavy clouds rolled in & you sat in anticipation on your shared bed with Rafe. He had been gone for a couple hours. You had yet to see him, or Bear even. Your mind was racing at what was about to unfold. Bear said to wait for the first thunderclap, that he would set a distraction. But what kind? You sincerely hoped that with no planning, you would succeed in getting out.

            About twenty minutes later, Rafe finally appeared. He came into the room looking exhausted. You sat up in bed.

            “You okay?”

            He peered at you, giving you a half-smile before nodding, “Yeah, people are just dumbasses, ya know.”

            “Mmm.” You replied wordlessly.

            He approached you on the bed, crawling up it until he was beside you. You allowed yourself to relax as he brought you into his arms.

            “I talked to Micah.”

            That made your heart stop. If Micah did hear like Bear said so, what would he have told Rafe? You were no friend of Micah’s, he would have no reason to protect you.

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, told him he better quit with the passive aggressive threats or it’ll be his life he’s gotta worry about.”

            You gulped. You didn’t want Micah dead. But it would be better him than you.

            “What else did he say?”

            Rafe sighed heavily, “Just bitched a lot. Nothing for you to worry about. He’ll come around. One day.”

            You hoped you would be long gone if that day ever came.

            Rafe slipped a hand under your arm, maneuvering you until you were situated atop him, straddling his hips. You didn’t like the positioning.

            His hands rubbed up & down your exposed thighs as he stared up at you. Your own hands were mindlessly placed on his stomach.

            “What?” You huffed out, giving an awkward smile.

            “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” He asked. Shit. Micah did hear something.

            “No.” You frowned, “Why?”

            “Like I told you before, some people want to drive us apart.”

            You needed him to trust you, to believe you would never betray him. If only for a little while longer.

            “They can’t keep us apart.” You told him, feeling brave enough to lean forward, “We belong together, remember? You told me that.”

            You ran your fingers along his jawline before threading them through his hair.

            “Yeah.”

            But he didn’t look entirely convinced. So, you took it one step further.

            Rafe sighed into your mouth as you kissed him, his hands gripping your thighs. You opened your eyes enough to see that his were closed. He was licked & nipped at your lips, hoping for entrance. You obliged. As his tongue massaged your own, you were suddenly flipped onto your back. Rafe grinded his hips into yours & a pulse shot up your spine.

            It felt wrong. All of it. You unlatched your mouth from his but he continued to kiss your jaw, neck, & shoulder as his hands slipped under your oversized t-shirt. You fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Rafe would view it as euphoria coming over you, but it was dread.

            He leaned upwards to rip of his own t-shirt before returning his body to yours. He cupped your cheek, making you look at him before he returned to kissing you. Bile rose in your throat but you forced yourself to keep it down.

            Rafe’s hands found the underside of your breasts, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. You gasped into the kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. He dragged his hips against yours, his evident arousal hitting your center nearly perfectly. You moaned reluctantly. But he took it as a means to go further.

            Before you could resist, Rafe lifted your top, removing it effectively from your body. You instinctively covered your exposed breasts but Rafe frowned, gently grabbing your wrists, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

            Your mind was racing, desperately searching for the memories that would back up his claims. But nothing turned up. Rafe kissed down your neck to the valley between your breasts. Your skin erupted with goosebumps as his mouth hovered over a pert nipple. When his tongue grazed over it, your body pushed up into his touch.

            “God, I’ve missed this.” He shared breathlessly.

            Words failed you, but your body was beginning to respond to his touch. His other hand reached below graze the edge of your underwear.

            No. No, no, no.

            Tears pricked your eyes. Please.

            A clap thunder boomed above, practically shaking the building. You yelped from the loud sound & Rafe’s teeth accidentally nipping your sensitive flesh.

            “Shh, calm down.” Rafe grinned, “It’s only a storm.”

            It was more than that, though. It was your time to go.

            “Rafe.” You pushed backwards, out of his arms, resting against the wall, “I’m not ready.”

            “What?” His hooded, heated gaze shifted into one of frustration, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

            “I’m sorry. It’s not gonna happen overnight.”

            “It’s been more than a night, it’s been a goddamn week!” He raised his voice, making you jump more than the thunder had.

            You stared at him wide-eyed, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t what else to say.”

            “You don’t have to say anything.” He growled, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do anything. I can do all the work.”

            “What?” The fuck was he getting at?

            Rafe harshly gripped your ankle, dragging you back down the bed, “Nothing I haven’t done already.”

            “Rafe, no!” But he wasn’t listening. He was quick to snatch both your wrists in one hand, holding them above your head as his other hand reached for the button on his jeans.

            You shook violently beneath, trying to throw him off you with your hips but he was bigger than you, stronger, & quite literally, had the upper hand.

            “After everything I’ve done for you!” Rafe hollered as he moved to rip your underwear off, “This is the least you can do for me.”

            A cry tore from your throat as you lied bare before Rafe, your imprisoner.

            But just as he was shoving his jeans down his thighs, a sudden boom sounded, shaking the building. But this wasn’t thunder.

            “What the fuck was that?” Rafe mindlessly let go of your wrists, listening as you both heard panicked screams in the distance.

            “Rafe!” It was Adrianna in the hallway. “Rafe, hurry!”

            “Fuck!” He shouted, shoving himself off the bed, “Fuck, fuck!”

            Hurriedly dressing, Rafe had seemingly forgotten about you on the bed. You took the opportunity to search desperately for your clothes. You managed to get your underwear & t-shirt back on before Rafe focused his attention on you again.

            “You.” He pointed, “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

            You said nothing, your body shaking after what he was just about to do to you.

            “And when I come back,” He approached you, snatching your chin in his hand, “I’ll finish what you started.”

            Tears skipped down your cheeks, your chin quaking in his hold. You ripped your head away from him, but nodded. He didn’t need to know that you wouldn’t be here when he returned.

            Adrianna burst into the room then, her eyes briefly flashing to yours, taking in your state of dress before frowning slightly. Then she looked at Rafe, “There’s a fire out front, I think someone exploded your truck.”

            “Goddamnit! Let’s go.” Tossing you a look of warning, Rafe finally disappeared with Adrianna, the door slamming shut behind him. But then you heard the grinding pop of metal.

            Did he…?

            Racing forward, you tugged on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

            “No!” You banged on the door, pulling uselessly on it, hoping it would give. But it was locked securely.

            “Fuck.” You breathed out. Running to the dresser, you quickly slipped into a pair of jeans before throwing a pair of boots on. You grabbed a jacket folded over the back of a chair & slung an empty backpack over your arms. You couldn’t just sit here & wait. You still had to try.

            Another clap of thunder boomed above followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the windows. Rushing to windows, you cranked one open, the metal rusting as you did. You groaned painfully as you mustered all your strength to get it all the way open. Rain pelted you in the face, quickly soaking your hair as you leaned out. Rafe’s room faced the back alley where Bear would be.

            Leaning out, your looked up & down the alley but it was difficult to make anything out. It was too dark, rain was getting in your eyes, your hair was whipping you in the face.

            “Bear!” You screamed but you knew it wouldn’t carry against the rage of the storm.

            But then, at the mouth of the alleyway, you saw a figure. Bear. He was too far away to hear you.

            “Fuck, Bear!” You yelled again, but no luck. He wasn’t even looking in your direction.

            Panicking, you begun to look for anything outside the window you could use to scale down on. But there was nothing, no piping, no grips in the brick that would make getting down easier, no fire escape. Besides, in the chaos of the storm you’d likely fall anyway. But perhaps that’s what you had to do to get away.

            You peered down in the dark. It was only two stories. But it wasn’t the typical two stories. The walls were taller here. You’d at least have to jump two & a half to get down. But you had to. Without giving yourself to think on it, you gripped the center of the window, carefully leveraging yourself to swing your legs out.

            “Bear!” You screamed once more, hoping he would hear you. But as you peered through the darkness you watched as he took off around the corner. Away from the mill. He had waited for you. He couldn’t wait any longer, Rafe & the others would find him & kill him. You had to be quick if you were going to catch up to him.

            Breathing fast, you felt yourself stiffen, you needed to jump. Now! Before Rafe came back, before Bear was in the wind. Jump, _____! Jump! NOW!

            A scream ripped from your throat as you launched yourself out the window. The ground came fast, too fast, & you hit it, landing on your feet, but your ankles gave out & you collapsed to the ground.

            “Ahh, fuuuuck!” You screeched, reaching down to hold your ankles. They were pulsing. But you had to go. Heaving yourself up, you tested your ankles. They were sore, tender, likely having twisted them, but you couldn’t let that stop you. Limping, you began to move as fast as you could toward the end of the alley where you had last seen Bear.

            Please, don’t be far.

            You continued hobbling, desperate to get as far away as possible before Rafe discovered you were gone. You had just made it to the mouth of the alleyway, looking in the direction that Bear took off it. It was towards the woods. You had to get there fast.

            But just as you started limping in that direction, voices sounded behind you. The loudest was Micah’s. And it was growing closer. There was a few dumpsters to your left & you were quick to dive in between them, desperately hoping that the darkness would shield you from murderous intent.

            You tugged your legs to your chest, pressing yourself as much as you could against the brick. Micah’s voice was getting closer. Another voice joined his. Rafe’s.

            The storm continued to boom & flash & whip about, making it difficult for you to hear as their footfalls grew closer. And by the time you could, it was already too late.

            A bright light blinded you, forcing you to whine as you shieled your eyes from the flashlight.

            An impressed whistle came from behind the flashlight, “Well, look what I found.”

            The flashlight lowered & Micah stood before you, a deadly grin on his face.

            “I told you, man. Her & Bear were up to no good.”

            Rafe appeared then as he spotted you. The heavy rain had his hair stuck to his forehead. Another clap of thunder sounded followed by a bolt of lightning that lit up the alleyway. In that brief moment, you saw the look in Rafe’s eyes. And the wrath you saw there rivaled the storm.

            This was it for you. That much you accepted quickly. But you hoped Bear got away. But hope, as you knew, was a silly thing to cling to.

alright, the second to last plot turn Rise will take before finishing strong.

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[foreverisntenough]

I love your writing and all your little one shots 🥹 Thank you for always working so hard to give us chapters every couple days, you’re the best! I was thinking of this today…

What would Y/N be like when Teddy is sick? I feel like with the anxiety she has around being a great mum that she would be worried sick and would be like checking on her every 10 minutes when she’s asleep or even sleep on the floor next to her bed or something. Trent would be all like “baby, you’re no good to her if you’re not taking care of yourself too”. I know Teddy is a daddy’s girl but I feel like when she’s upset or sick she goes to Y/N for cuddles.

Firstly, thank you for such a sweet message! I really appreciate It so much! 🫶

But awwww I feel bad for all of them 🥺🥺 Teddy being sick makes me sad, y/n being anxious makes me sad, Trent trying to help them both makes me sad.

Teddy is definitely a daddy’s girl like through and through but I agree, second she’s sick? It is mama, mama, mama!

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

‘A Sad Sick Teddy’ - 1.9k words

↳ Trent and your daughter, Teddy wakes up sick.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

“Mama…” Teddy whined as you tried to wake her up that morning. Her tiny little frame in her tiny little pajamas looked smaller than ever. She coughed a few times and curled up under her blanket not excitedly moving towards you like she normally did.

“Teddy bear, what's the matter? Tell mummy, please.” You asked her with fear coursing through your entire body. You could see it in her face that she didn’t feel well. You placed the back of your hand on her forehead. She was burning up and simultaneously shivering. You could feel her hot skin under your cold hand. “Come here, sweetheart. Mummy’s got you.” You picked her up and held her in your arms. She hid her face in the nape of your neck but it wasn’t more than a second before her coughs turned into hiccups and gasping breaths as she started crying uncontrollably wanting for your comfort. You could feel how wet her face was from all the tears streaming down her cheeks as she pressed it against you. Trent came out into the hallway from your bedroom to head downstairs before training but hearing Teddy cries stopped him in his tracks. A pang of hurt rifled through his heart. He didn’t know what possibly could have happened already; it was still so early in the morning.

“What’s wrong?” Trent entered her room overhearing the commotion. He rushed to you holding Teddy clinging to you. You ran your hand up her back holding her as gently but securely as you could. She was scared and sick crying away. She was shaking against you from how cold she was cuddling into your neck for some semblance and warmth clutching at your shirt.

“Ted, doesn’t feel well.” You cooed in almost a whisper, kissing her temple. Trent pouted at you and looked at her crying. He tried to wipe her tears but they just kept rolling down her plump little cheeks. “I should go make her a little something.” You softly spoke just to Trent, turning your head away from her towards him.

“C’mere, baby bear.” Trent said sadly moving to pluck her out of your arms knowing that she wasn’t going to want to be put back down. She made grabby hands back towards you though as he held her. Trent ran his hand over Teddy's little curls, sweaty and matted down from her hot temperature as she continued to cry.

“Mama!! Want my mama. Stay with Teddy pleabs. Mama” Teddy wailed out and your eyes widened not realizing this was how upset she was. She was practically inconsolable. Trent selfishly wanted to be a bit offended by her preference to you but he understood. He understood you took care of her better than anyone else in the world.

“I got you, baby. I promise. Mummy’s not going anywhere. Shhh, baby. Going to get you to feel better. Love you so so so much. Mummy’s here, okay?” You hushed her, taking her back from Trent. She just kept crying and coughing and coughing and crying. You felt horrible. It made you want to cry. You just wanted to reassure her she would be okay but you were panicking yourself. You pressed a kiss to her sweaty temple continuing to rub her pajama covered back trying to calm her down. You decided the plan was to give her a bath to regulate her temperature, get her in some clean clothes, give her some medicine, and see how she felt as the day went.

“Is mama mad at mes?” She cried in a mumble flooded by tears as you pulled her top over her curls. Your heart continued to break.

“No, no. Not mad, my baby. Just want to make you better.” You cooed gently testing the water’s temperature with your hand beside you. Teddy was so miserable but you felt so bad that she felt like you would have been mad that she was sick. Your demeanor with her was different today and she could tell. You just were so worried and also so sad she wasn’t her usual self. The dramatic shift of your morning was heart wrenching. Normally, she was so giggly, happy, she’d be running about the house by this point impatiently waiting for her breakfast but now you were trying to think what she would possibly be able to eat. You finished her bath and popped her in a fresh long sleeve shirt, leggings, and tiny ruffled socks. “Come on, cute girl. Let’s go downstairs.” You gently spoke to her and all you got in return was a small sad nod from Teddy. You walked down stairs with her still in your arms and her curls tickling under your jaw as she nuzzled into the nape of your neck further. You went to the kitchen and kept her on your hip as you found the medicine and grabbed her a few things including a smoothie from the refrigerator you’d try to get her to have at some point but while you were doing that you heard little snores coming from her. Teddy had dozed off in your embrace so you, more quietly than you had been, picked up all the things you needed and headed into your living room to settle on the couch. You laid there till she woke up looking up at you with her brown doe eyes just like Trent’s except hers were watery and on the verge of more tears about to flood. She was going to start crying. You held her tightly and let her cry which was killing you. You spent the afternoon watching Winnie the Pooh… twice per Teddy’s request interspersed with more tears, a cranky Teddy refusing to eat anything, and lots and lots of cuddles.

“Mama, sleepy.” Teddy whined as you entered the late afternoon. You’d done nothing but tend to her. You just couldn’t be away from her. Seeing her be so frail was so awful. You held her tight to you as you two began to work your way through the third book of the day.

“I know. That’s okay, Teddy bear. Can just go to sleep. I'll be here. Want me to keep reading so you can still listen along till you snooze?” You cooed. She yawned while she nodded as whatever virus continued to take its toll on her tiny body. She knuckled her eyes with her small hands rubbing her eyelids hiding her beautiful big brown eyes. “Okay, beautiful.” You kissed her forehead and carried on reading to her but it only took about one page before she was out like a light again.

“How is she?” Trent had called from training. He spoke as quietly as he could the moment he saw Teddy fast asleep on you.

“She’s asleep, has been most of the day. She just looks so sad and sick.” You informed him equally as quiet with a bit of a frown.

“Thank you for taking care of her, baby. I’m hoping it’s just today. If it goes on we’re going to the doctor. I already called.” Trent told you echoing a feeling of panic you’d felt all day. You hummed in agreement. You had been so distracted and busy making sure Teddy was okay you hadn’t even thought to make an appointment yet. Trent came home and you had a fairly short dinner remaining tucked on the couch keeping Teddy close to you. She fussed as you tried to get her to eat, sitting in your lap. She just poked at her food, eating nothing.

It was a bit later in the night when Trent started to worry that you hadn’t come to bed yet. He knew you were with Teddy, you’d put her to bed ages ago but said you’d be fine without his help. That was hours ago, what were you doing?

“Baby come to bed, please. She’s okay. You took such good care of her today. She’ll stay asleep, alright? And if she wakes were just down the hall.” He whispered to you, taking a seat on the couch in Teddy’s room next to your body laying across it.

“T… I can’t. I can’t let anything happen to my baby. When I was pregnant, T… I’m so scared something happened or I messed up. I need to be here.” You whispered on the verge of tears, keeping your eyes fixed on Teddy. It pinged in the back of your mind every time Teddy took a fall, cried or coughed that maybe just maybe the scare you had towards the end of your pregnancy when you had to be rushed to the hospital had somehow affected her and had possibly been some sort of dormant condition.

“Hey, she’s okay. She’s probably got a little cold but look at her... She’s okay, just as beautiful as ever. She’s got you and me to take care of her. You take such good care of her, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. We checked with the doctors. I was there, sweetheart. It was nothing, come with me.” Trent cooed and you pouted. He leaned down and kissed your temple trying to get you moving. You kept your eyes fixed on your daughter, not wavering from her.

“T…” you sighed, flashing your eyes to him with a look of concern behind them.

“C’mere, baby. Move over f’me.” He cooed, quietly moving you over himself towards the edge of the couch coming behind you, wrapping you in his embrace.. “I got you both, okay?” He whispered into the shell of your ear after he kissed it. You hummed sadly. “Take care of my girls, always and forever.” He squeezed you tighter to him. You could feel tears roll down your cheeks but didn’t have the will to wipe them away. He leaned around you and kissed your cheek. You fell asleep like that, tucked in his arms, anxiety ridden over your baby.

“Mama!” Teddy croaked out, groggily opening her eyes. She wiggled in her bed towards the edge inspecting her surroundings trying to deduce why you were oddly in her room.

“Good morning, sleepy girl.” You cooed quietly, adjusting your position in Trent’s arms. You watched her dimples deepen in her smile. Your lips began to curl seeing her already looking much better. Trent kissed the back of your neck before he perked up and said good morning to her.

“Mama, dada, why in Teddy’s room?” She giggled excitedly like this was a fun sleepover for her not a derivative of fear.

“We just wanted to be with you, Teddy girl. How are you feeling?” You gently asked her sitting up right, coming over to her bed. You brushed your hand over her cheek gently.

“Tay, mama. I’m tay.” She cooed back to you before letting out a giggle when Trent came up behind you with a kiss to your cheek proceeding to scoop her up in his strong arms.

“My baby bear. I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Had mummy and I so nervous.” Trent nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “Are you hungry? Didn't get to eat much yesterday did ya?” He asked her knowing she barely ate. She nodded and they turned to leave the room. You’d follow after you grabbed up her sheets to wash. Even if she was feeling better today you needed her to go to sleep tonight in fresh bedding.

“Wait dada. Wait.” Teddy yelled as they made their way down the hallway. She wiggled in his arms till Trent put her down on the carpet. She ran away from him without another word back into her bedroom. “Tank you, mama for stay with me. I lub you most, tay?” She cooed, wrapping herself around your leg hugging you. Your jaw slacked a little surprised by how cute and kind it was. You looked down at her with a pout. She batted her eyes up to you adorably but before you could even respond to her she eagerly darted out of the room back to Trent just how it should be.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough work here!

[smytherines]

I think about Curt's thought process on the staircase all the time. Did he think that Owen fell, was fine, got up and walked away and decided to be evil? In One Step Ahead Curt says things like "what happened to the man I knew?" And "you've lost your mind." This version of Owen is so different to the person he knew that Curt can't bring himself to say Owen's name after the reveal. Not even once. But what does he think happened to Owen?

Technically the Joey Richter tweet about Owen being captured by the Russians and then bailed out and nursed back to health by Chimera to "groom him for future work" is not canon, as it isn't established in the show. But he is one of the three writers, one of the Tin Can Bros, so if anyone knows what happened to Owen after the fall, it would be him. It's sort of a close enough to canon situation.

And realistically... I mean I'm not going to get into the details, but prisoners in the USSR were not treated kindly. We're talking about abuses so horrifying that a lot of prisoners simply did not survive them. So we have Owen, severely injured in the fall, having had a building explode on him, being held captive by a country he just dealt a significant blow to by destroying their weapons facility. The absolute best case scenario is that they don't treat his serious injuries. The worst case scenario is... much, much worse. The kind of thing that can absolutely break someone.

And then Chimera comes along and offers him a way out. Offers to fix his broken body and give him back his freedom (or some semblance of it at least). But their assistance doesn't come for free. He has a debt to pay. And given his injuries he probably can't do the sort of physically demanding work he did as a spy. But he can torture people. He can kill people. He is very good at killing people.

He can't be Owen Carvour anymore, that man died when he fell, when his body broke, when the man he loved left him for dead. Chimera is there during his long healing process, whispering in his ear- this is what your partner did to you. This is what the country you served did to you. This is what being a spy did to you, and wouldn't it be nice to obliterate the whole fucking institution? Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world without agencies, without spies, without secrets?

I imagine that on the staircase, Curt is thinking about how the man he loved, the man he grieved for four years, tortured him. That Owen hated him. That Owen wanted to kill him. That Owen is a monster now, and the kindest thing to do is to put him down. And it isn't until Owen's lifeless body is in front of him that he sees the burns, the surgical scars, the physical devastation of the fall, and starts to understand what happened to the man he knew. That's when he becomes fixated on taking down Chimera. He can't undo what he did, not in 1957 and not in 1961. But he thinks that by taking down Chimera he can make it matter. He can make it right. He has to keep going until he makes it right.

And the more he learns about Chimera, the more he learns about Owen's time with the Russians, Owen's injuries in the fall, Owen's life as the Deadliest Man Alive, the harder he pushes himself to defeat Chimera. Except every new piece of information he learns is like a knife to the gut. His conscience burns at him. He sees Owen everywhere, all the time. Beautiful visions of him, horrifying visions of him, waking, sleeping, wherever he goes and whatever he does. And Owen was right- Curt can never catch up to them. He tries and he tries, but he fails. Whatever promises he whispered to Owen's body, he can't fulfill them. And he knows it. He knows it right up until the moment he dies.

[beardedjoel]

closer | part twenty one

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: it's joel's birthday, and you've got one thing on your mind when you pay him a surprise visit, the first time you've seen each other in weeks. 10.6 k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, grinding, unprotected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation / multiple orgasms, posessive! joel, tinitest of spit kinks (blink and you'll miss it) a/n: thanks for the patience amazing readers, this one feels like it took me ages to get posted, but i'm feeling good about how it turned out! i hope it lives up to what y'all were hoping for joel and reader! heheheh

Birthdays have never been Joel’s favorite, and the older he got, the less he looked forward to waking up another year older. He supposes that most people feel that way as they age, anyways, and tries not to pay it much mind. He wakes up that Friday, his birthday, wishing it was just any other day. But knowing Tommy, he’ll have something up his sleeve for today, and he groans internally and externally as he sits up and climbs out of bed. If this is what being forty three feels like - back aching, stiff knees, living without the girl he loves due to his own colossal stubbornness - he doesn’t want any part of it.

Grumbling to himself as he gets ready, taking a quick shower and running his hands through his wet hair to try and have some semblance of a good appearance, Joel vows to just try to just get through the day. He doesn’t fail to notice the way he’s checked his phone several times while he was getting ready, knowing the reason why is wishful hoping that you’ll text him. The only reason he could find to care about his birthday is if it was you recognizing it, he thinks with a growing twinge of sadness in his chest. Messaging you first seems like too much, like he’s asking for you to wish him a happy birthday, and the thought makes Joel instantly cringe, the long standing pit in his stomach falling deeper.

He’d just try to make it through the day, that was all, that was his motto right now. He found himself saying that more days than not recently, though. How many more days until he just couldn’t make it through the day, until this little motto lost all its meaning?

He sighs, deep in thought as he pulls up to work for the day, expecting the worst. If there’s even one party decoration in sight, Joel swears he just might wring Tommy’s neck. His day goes uneventfully for the most part, much to his surprise. While Tommy chose to spare him on the decorations, he did bring a chocolate sheet cake to their job site for everyone to enjoy, and Joel’s thankful it doesn’t have too much frill to it. Tommy just had to have them write on it, making sure to put his age and everything out there for the world to see - Happy 43rd Birthday Joel! He swears the numbers are bigger than anything else on the cake, and he can picture Tommy requesting that exact thing at whatever bakery counter he’d ordered this from. 

Regardless of his sour mood, the cake tastes so good that Joel finds himself having a second slice, and he claps Tommy on the shoulder, thanking him for going through the trouble at the end of their workday. 

“No problem, brother. Know I love ya. You ready to head out to Murray’s?” Tommy asks, and Joel gives him a curt nod. 

Tommy had agreed to drive Joel to the bar after dropping the cake and Joel’s truck off - that way he could drink as much as he wanted and Tommy had convinced one of their site managers, Don, into being a designated driver for the night to take Joel home afterwards. Don had grumbled on, saying why couldn’t Tommy do it but he knew Tommy Miller was a drinker, and wouldn’t want to miss out on celebrating his brothers’ birthday in the only way he knew how - getting belligerently wasted.

Typically, Joel may have indulged just as much as Tommy on a night like this, especially with how much he was additionally hating his birthday this year compared to other years. If you’d told Joel this time last year he’d end up sitting with a broken, hurting heart on his next birthday, he probably would have scoffed at the idea. Joel just simply wasn’t feeling up for having more than a few beers tonight, ready to call it an early night and forget this day ever happened. 

He was already sick of watching the door religiously, a man with one prayer uttered over and over in his head for you to walk through it any minute, glowing and radiant as always, here to cure everything that ailed him right now. As far-fetched as he knew the idea was, it ate away at the back of his mind throughout the entire few hours he spent there while he tried to not be completely horrible company to be around. At least everyone else seemed to be having a good time for his birthday, he thought with a scornful chuckle to himself, shaking his head a little bit.

When he finally convinces Don to take him home, Joel feels relief as his house comes into view. He wants to just change out of his clothes, put on some TV, and binge eat cake until he falls the fuck asleep in front of the screen and can move on from his birthday. Don seems to sense Joel’s increasingly self deprecating mood, and gives him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, wishing him another happy birthday and telling him to get some rest.

Joel is focused now, so close to the safe, warm, comfort of his home and his little plan for the rest of his night that he fails to notice you sitting in the shadows on his porch until your voice squeaks out and nearly has him jumping out of his skin.

“Hey stranger… Happy birthday,” you say, and Joel hears your voice, so sweet and quiet, but can barely register it. You look like you’ve walked straight out a dream of his, even in the dark he can see your pretty eyes framed by your delicate eyelashes fluttering as you blink nervously, the way your dress is hugging in all the right places before it falls just around your knees. He feels like his breath is torn right out of his lungs, and he’s frozen right there, keys halfway in the lock, just looking at you. Your name slips quietly out of his lips as a question, almost unintentionally, and you straighten a little more in your seat at hearing it.

“Wh-what’re you doin’ here?” Joel asks, finally finding his voice.

“Waiting for you,” you say candidly, and Joel just blinks for a moment, looking at you.

“Hope it wasn’t long… I was at the bar.”

“I uh, I know,” you tell him, and Joel’s brow crinkles a little in confusion. “Tommy told me. Actually, he invited me…” Joel interrupts with an irritated scoff at Tommy, muttering “asshole” under his breath to his non-present brother.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go,” you say, giving him a small, lopsided smile. “I didn’t want to interrupt your nice evening with… well, me.”

Joel’s mind is spinning now, taking all of this information in. He’s still reeling from just seeing you after so long, looking just as perfect as always, and now he’s expected to have a conversation with you when he can barely think straight.

When he doesn’t respond for a few moments, shifting in place, you glance to the other wicker chair next to you and motion to it. “Want to sit with me?” you ask, giving him a hopeful smile, your eyes shining and slightly wet. Were you close to crying? Joel felt a pull in his chest at the sight of you like this.

“‘Course, sorry,” Joel replies, shaking his head a little bit to bring himself back. “Jus’ a little surprised to see ya.”

“Sorry, if it’s not a good time, I can go,” you say quickly, sitting impossibly close to the edge of the chair, ready to leave at a moment’s notice if necessary. 

“No, no s’alright. Stay, sit back,” Joel says, waving you off and finally taking a seat next to you. You end up scooting back, getting a little more comfortable as you lean back in the chair and look over at Joel, a mixture of expectation and anxiousness written on your face.

“So… it’s your birthday,” you say with a teasing glint in your eyes, and Joel gives you a playful glare.

“Would seem that way, wouldn’t it,” Joel replies with an amused huff.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to Murray’s,” you apologize again, “I didn’t want to make it a weird thing, since we haven’t… y’know, seen each other in a while.”

“Oh…” Joel says, musing for a moment. “Yeah, makes sense. But you’re here, now.” Joel feels a smile pull at his lips as he dares to look a little closer at you, seeing the familiar features of yours that he loves so much up closer. It’s been far too long since he got to gaze at you like this, he thinks to himself.

“I am,” you say, returning his smile. “Had to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Could’ve jus’ called,” Joel teases, despite feeling beyond elated that you’d showed up on his porch tonight. “Glad you didn’t, but just hope you didn't go through too much trouble.”

“If I had just called…” you say, dragging your words out, “How could I give you this?” You nudge a box on the little table in between the two chairs you’re sitting on towards him, and it’s the first time Joel even noticed it between it being dark outside and his transfixion on your face. He smiles tentatively as he gathers the box into his hands, pulling it onto his lap and inspecting it. A bright, confetti pattern adorns the wrapping paper with a shining red bow on top. It’s neat, tidy, perfect - exactly the kind of wrapping job he’d expect from you with so much thoughtfulness put into it.

“This is… real nice,” Joel stutters out. “Thank you…”

“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t even opened it,” you say with a chuckle. You seem nervous - Joel clocks your hands moving around anxiously in your lap, a telltale sign that you’re thinking too much. 

“Either way, even if it’s total crap in here, it looks great,” Joel says with a light laugh, one you return, and he can see your tension easing. Joel lets his fingers tuck under the flaps of the paper as he tears it open, revealing a small, wooden box. He lets his hand run along the outside, a quizzical look on his face as he inspects it.

“Open it already, you’re killing me,” you blurt out playfully, your hand going to your mouth to absentmindedly chew on a nail.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses,” Joel says, his eyes brightening with delight at the situation. He’s still not entirely sure any of this is real, but he savors the moment for another second before opening the wooden box perched on his lap.

Inside is an intricate, gorgeous set of hand tools for woodworking, neatly arranged in the box, all with their own little placeholders. Joel gapes at it, not even realizing how many times his mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to say. He can make out enough detail on everything in the dim porch light, but he’d bet these will be even more beautiful once he can get a good look at them.

“Don’t even know what to say, darlin’... this is…” Joel trails off, picking up one of the tools and inspecting it. “This is too much.”

“No, it’s not, Joel,” you defend immediately, stiffening in the chair. You’re absolutely ready to go to war with whatever Joel’s thoughts are telling him right now.

“Y-you shouldn’t have done all of this. Don’t deserve a gift like this from you.” He shakes his head slowly, still keeping his eyes on the box in his lap, not wanting to look at you and show all the vulnerability in his eyes. 

“That’s just not true Joel, I wanted to buy this for you, show you how much you still mean to me. Close the box and look at the lid again.” Joel gives you a weary look in response but does as you ask, inspecting the lid closer, and that’s when he spots it.

“See? It has your initials, right there,” you say, reaching over to point it out to him, your hand brushing dangerously close to his, and Joel feels his heart skip slightly in his chest at the proximity.

“I see that…” Joel sighs out, finally meeting your gaze. “This is perfect, sweetheart. Thank you,” he says solemnly, and while you don’t misunderstand Joel’s reaction, you feel a twinge of sadness that he’s having a hard time accepting this gift.

“I just noticed you didn’t have a ton of tools yet when you showed me your woodworking table, and I saw all those little wooden carvings you were doing - animals and stuff, so I thought maybe you’d need this,” you explain anxiously, giving Joel a half smile.

“Yeah, y’are right about that, didn’t have everything I needed yet. Been havin’ a hard time… with the small stuff…” Joel’s voice is coming out quieter than he wants, but he’s overcome with emotion right now. He swipes his hand over his eyes, trying to get his bearings, but you keep a steady gaze on him, observing his passing emotions. Joel feels your hand on his suddenly, fingers soft and delicate as you reach over from your chair to touch him.

“I want you to have this,” you say, and Joel looks up to see your lips curved up softly, eyes gentle and looking like they’re staring right into his very soul. Your fingers wrap around his hand, still closed around the box on his lap, and the warmth from your hand alone is taking him to another place, having wished and pined for your touch for so long now.

“Alright, I believe ya, then. Thank you again, it’s really… somethin’,” Joel says, a little bit of confidence growing in his voice again, and it lifts a small weight off of your chest to hear it.

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you say, giving his fingers a squeeze before starting to pull your hand back towards yourself. Joel’s hand catches it before it even leaves the vicinity of his chair, and holds on again, gripping tightly around your fingers. 

You two sit for what feels like an eternity, just his hand holding yours, both of your eyes full of questioning, possibility, and something… more.

“I have something else… for your birthday,” you manage to say just above a whisper, your voice low and saccharine as you shift forward in your seat, sliding to the edge and standing up. You still haven’t let go of Joel’s hand, using it to guide yourself the few steps over to his seat. You fluidly guide your legs on either side of his hips and slide onto him, settling yourself to straddle his lap. Where your hands join, you guide it to settle on your hip, and Joel follows suit with the other hand, gently touching you as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

Honestly, he was. He was so afraid of that possibility that he stiffened under your weight, panic rising up in his chest. He couldn’t deserve this, he couldn’t be allowed this happiness again.

You read his tensing body immediately, and snake a hand up to ghost along his cheek, brushing gently with the back of your hand. Joel lets out a sigh at the softness of your touch, the repressed longing built up in every cell of his body finding some escape in this one little puff of air exiting his lungs. His eyes flutter closed as you do it again, flipping your hand this time to rake the pads of your fingers down his cheek and through his beard.

“I-” Joel starts, a rasp to the little noise that breaks your heart. When you look into his eyes, you find nothing there but desolation in his warm brown, and you shake your head slightly.

“Shh,” you say soothingly, leaning forward slightly, “I know. I know.” Your head goes into the crook of his neck, your hot breath alone sending a shiver down his spine before you multiply it with a brush of your lips against his warm skin. Fluttering kisses along his neck, taking your time with each one, feeling and hearing Joel sigh deeply each time your lips touch him. When you reach his ear, taking the lobe into your mouth and giving it a gentle suck, Joel seems to melt a little before coming to his senses enough to speak up.

“You shouldn’t be… don’t deserve…” Joel murmurs. You pull back slightly, nuzzling your nose against the side of his cheek, taking the other side of his face into your palm, pressing yourself as close as you can. He catches the scent of your shampoo as your hair falls forward over the back of your head, right into his face. A scent he’d started to forget, nearly panicking the day he’d realized it was happening. A scent that he could have spent a lifetime searching for in drug and beauty store aisles, knowing it could never compare to this moment right here, when it was combined with you. Joel breathes in shakily, his erratic inhales and exhales showing just how close he is to breaking down. 

“I want you, more than just this. I want you, Joel,” you say, your confession laid bare. Joel’s heart thuds so loud he’s worried you can hear it clear as day as you two sit in a tense silence. You hold yourself against him with baited breath, now just left to wait for his response.

“You mean…” Joel starts, afraid to dare the question to leave his tongue for fear of your answer. 

You nod into him. “Yes,” you breathe. “Can we… try again? I’m ready, if you want it still.” You keep your voice low, vibrating right against his ear, and Joel lets another shudder wrack his body. He feels impossibly taut, like his muscles could snap at any moment, like he could fully break. But when he hears your words, he feels an instant release, the breaking of a thread that had been pulling, pulling, pulling, these last few months, slowly choking the life out of him. It was gone now. His chest nearly ached with the sudden lightness, and he fought the urge to clutch at it, not wanting to let go of where he held your hips even for a second.

“If I want it? If I want it…?” Joel echoes in disbelief. His arms slide around to your back, folding you deeper into his embrace and he chokes back a sob. “All I’ve ever wanted… right here,” he says, tugging you even closer, impossibly close, so that you’re nearly melding together into the same person. 

“Joel…” you manage to say, choked up with your own tears now. You could never express just how right everything feels at this moment, being back in Joel’s arms, being so sure of it when you’d been riddled with every worry and anxiety about this exact moment for weeks. You knew that you’d made the right decision, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind.

“I got you, I got you, sweetheart,” Joel says, his hand now gripping the back of your head as you hang your head onto his shoulder, burying into his neck and taking in his scent with a shaky breath, quickly blinking away your tears.

You push back against his hand, bringing yourself to eye level with him and peering into his eyes for what feels like the first time all over again. The emotion swirling there is nearly unreadable - a mixture of joy, care, wonder, and lust, and it’s all being directed at you, nearly taking your breath away. Before you can think, your lips crash into his, hard at first but turning delicate quickly, wanting to really feel this moment and the weight it has for you. Joel returns your passionate, slow kisses, his tongue begging entry into your mouth nearly immediately, and you let him, your tongues dancing together in the most beautiful way as you savor each other. 

Your hips move with a mind of their own, slowly pushing forward onto Joel and back again, starting a steady grind on his lap. Joel groans so loudly you nearly jump, and you find a small moan escaping your lips when you continue going back in for more, more, more from him. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly into your mouth as you brush over the now obvious hard bulge in his jeans with your warm heat. You intensify the way you’re kissing him now, wrapping your fingers tightly around the back of his neck and hooking them deeply into the dark curls lying there, tugging enough to elicit another little noise from Joel, more desperate this time. 

He uses the opportunity to pull back slightly, his heavy breathing mingling with your own.

“Are you su-“ Joel starts, but you cut him off, not even wanting him to finish the question for the fact that he’d be harboring any thoughts that you have doubts about this. 

“I’m sure,” you say with conviction, locking your eyes on his again. His eyes seem to harden with determination then, nearly going a shade darker in the dim lighting of the porch. Joel lips find yours again and he devours you, practically stealing your breath with the ferocity of it. His hands slide to your ass, gripping it tightly and bunching the thin fabric of your dress in his hands before he pushes on you, forcing you forward to grind on him again. You let out a little whimper at his forcefulness, having missed the way his hands so perfectly guide you and show you exactly what you need. How he knows exactly what you need every time may always remain a mystery to you, but you’re not one to question perfection.

You continue your steady movements on top of him, letting Joel push you forward each time, his jeans beginning to rub a perfect rhythm on your aching pussy. It’s nearly too much already, too much Joel after being away from this bliss for too long, and you break off your kiss just to bury your head in his shoulder, mewling quietly next to his ear as you quicken your pace on his lap.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby, fuck…” Joel breathes out, already completely undone by the way you two are moving together as he starts grinding his hips back into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest, nervous for some reason as you decide you want more, to move things along with him. You think you’ll combust soon if you two keep up only making out like a couple of teenagers. While it feels amazing to be reunited, you feel the need to show Joel just how serious you are about what you’ve told him. 

Your hand shakes a little as you reach between the two of you to grab at Joel’s belt, swiftly undoing it amid many approving sounds from Joel as his lips attach themselves to your neck, kissing along the length of it and up to your face, covering as many spots as he possibly can with an undying eagerness to taste you on his lips.

Joel lets out a hiss when your hand reaches inside of his jeans, your fingers brushing along the soft fabric of his briefs, tracing the hard length of him inside.

“Is this okay?” you quietly rasp, and Joel’s approval stretches from his little smile to his eyes as he nods.

“Gonna make me crazy already, baby, the way you’re touchin’ me,” he says as you continue your movement along his shaft and wrap your hand tighter for a quick moment before sliding your hand inside of his briefs. The warmth of his skin blazes onto your hand as he throbs beneath you with your light strokes. Joel hums pleasantly, his eyes glazing over with need when you dare to peek into them. His head nearly lolls back onto the chair with a little groan when your finger swipes the head of his cock, feeling the wetness of his precum before you swirl it around the tip of his cock with your thumb.

Your entire body feels on fire, warm from the inside out as your core twists deep inside with need, the desire to feel him inside of you reaching a dangerous territory of necessity for you.

“Joel…” you coo as your cunt aches so sweetly for him, more than ready for him to completely own it again. You wrap a hand around his cock, fingers feeling so small around his girth that it makes your mouth water with anticipation for what’s to come.

“I know, baby,” Joel responds as you pull his cock out of his jeans, freeing the length of him and you gasp a little at the remembrance of the full size of him, already finding yourself picturing it being thrusted deep inside of you. Joel smirks at the starry-eyed look on your face as you take him in again and places his hands on your thighs, sliding your dress up higher.

“Missed my big fuckin’ cock, didn’t you?” Joel asks, so cocky and sure of himself that it sends another wave of desire straight to your clit and you can only find yourself nodding. “‘Course you did,” Joel adds on when he sees your speechless, practically drooling response to his question. Joel’s hand has been steadily moving your dress higher until his hands slide right to your ass, playing with the fabric of your panties, tracing his fingers along the lace.

Your hips lurch forward with anticipation, and you bring your lips down to Joel’s again, kissing him with pent up passion as one of his hands comes forward to cup your cunt, finding it desperately soaked for him, and he tuts into the kiss as if he can’t believe what he’s feeling. You push into his hand, your clit eager for any kind of movement on it, and Joel obliges, letting you grind onto his palm through your underwear for a few moments

“Need to see this pretty little thing,” Joel murmurs breathlessly, and you nod feverishly in agreement.

“Just fuckin’ rip them off, Joel,” you tell him, your lips barely leaving his to utter the words, and Joel growls deep in his throat at your eagerness, his fingers wrapping around the side of your panties to tear at them. You hear the splitting of seams as the fabric comes apart with a swift tug from Joel. It makes you feel impossibly feral that his strong hands made such quick work of the fabric that you can't help the moan that escapes you as you feel your panties fall away, completely ruined as Joel pulls them out from between you and tosses them to the ground, his lips never coming apart from yours. 

You lift your hips up, giving Joel the opportunity to slide his cock between your legs, and you moan immediately at the way he feels against your slick folds. He grabs the base of his cock with one hand, and your ass with the other, guiding himself to rub back and forth against you until you’re breathing so erratically that you have to stop kissing Joel for fear you won’t be able to catch your breath. He increases the pace, and every time his plump head presses and brushes against your clit you feel the build up tighten in your core even more until you’re ready to burst, the tension reaching a high as you nearly choke on your words. 

“I’m gonna… Joel… fuck, I’m oh -“

Your hips roll and spasm down onto his cock, and he keeps up the pace, brushing his head quickly over your pulsing clit in rapid motions as you ride out your orgasm. Your head buries into his chest, covering up your moans of his name as you yell it out into his shirt with a hand clutching tightly to the fabric. 

“Good, so good, baby, yeah, just ride it out f’me,” Joel praises, stroking the back of your head, “Come all over this cock, f-fuck…”

You whimper and slump into him a little to catch your breath and come down, but the feeling of his soaked cock still pressing against your folds sets you off all over again, and you need more. 

“Inside me… Joel… fuck….”

“C-can’t wait much longer either,” he says, uncharacteristically shaken, and he vibrates slightly with the effort of holding back, but you roll your hips onto his cock as he slides up your seam again, and then surprises you by pushing himself in, the head of his cock bursting into your entrance. You gasp at the intrusion initially, but sigh with relief at the feeling of him slowly, deliciously filling you up inch by inch, stretching you practically beyond your means until you’re completely full of him. You can’t help the warm feeling that spreads through you that this is what you were meant for, exactly where you’re supposed to be.

“Fuck,” Joel grits out, completely sheathed inside of you, feeling you squeeze him as you shift your hips to adjust to the fullness. “Just want to feel you for a second,” he says. “Missed this so much.”

Joel’s hands go back to gripping your hips tightly, not allowing any movement as he just feels you around his length, but you squirm in his grasp, making his cock push against your walls. You let out a whimpering sound at the feeling, and Joel bites the inside of his lip, barely able to contain himself between the small movements and sounds you’re making as you squirm and leak all over his cock, your arousal dripping down onto his jeans. You grip his shoulders for some leverage to begin moving as much as you can, and one of Joel’s hands frees your hip up to come grab your chin, pulling it tightly between his fingers as he forces you to look at him.

“Please…” you beg quietly, the throbbing, aching mess between your legs taking over any and all thoughts you have.

“You lookin’ for me to make you fuckin’ scream right here on this porch, are ya? Can’t wait until we’re inside?”

You shake your head with panting breaths from the exertion of trying to break out of Joel’s grasp to bounce your hips and feel him moving inside of you.

“Good,” Joel says, a devious smirk on his face, “‘Cause I can’t either.” With his words he pushes his hips up into you, affording him that tiny bit of extra space inside of you and you groan before he pulls his hips back, lifting yours at the same time before repeating the motion, slamming back into you hard and deep.

You cry out loudly, feeling him push against every part inside of you imaginable - have you always felt him this much, or is it just because you’d been deprived from the pure pleasure of Joel that it feels like so much more now? 

You start returning his movements with equal vigor, your bodies ferociously coming together as the chair creaks underneath your bodies with the harsh movement.

“Gonna break this damn chair if we keep it up,” Joel says with a chuckle, lightening his movements only slightly. 

“So what?” you manage to reply through stunted breaths as you slam yourself down onto Joel over and over. 

“Need to fuck you properly anyways, darlin’, c’mere.” Joel’s hands cup underneath your thighs, urging you up off his lap as you help him lift you, wrapping your arms around his neck. You bury your face there, not wanting even a moment to go to waste as your lips find his neck again and suck hard. Joel yelps quietly as he moves you to the banister of his porch, perching you on the edge of it, and you grip even more tightly onto his back, feeling your balance completely off on the thin slab of wood underneath your ass. 

“This is what you call proper?” You laugh, and Joel looks at you with a smirk before diving back in to kiss you, slowly grinding his hips into you now with nearly infuriating movements. You moan at the feel of every inch of him dragging out of you before pushing back in. You clench around him as your body shakes in his grip, unable to control the whimpering that escapes your lips. 

“Y’seem to be enjoying it,” Joel retorts, and you’re too lost in the feeling of his cock to even conjure up a snarky response. “You want it faster though, don’t ya? I know how my angel likes to take my cock,” Joel rasps eagerly, and you groan as you nod your head, begging for more of him. 

When he starts thrusting into you faster and harder, the banister rocks under the weight of it, but you can’t find it in you to care. Even if it all came crashing down and you two fell to the ground with it, you doubt either of you’d stop fucking the other with the way you’re both desperately panting now as Joel’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. 

Your legs slide higher up Joel’s back, your ankles hooking together around him, trusting his arms completely to hold you up from falling off the porch railing. When your hips angle enough for Joel to get deeper, you moan as he presses against the spongy part inside of you that makes you absolutely crazy for him, and he smirks as he sees your eyes flutter with each new brush against the spot. You whine out his name, and Joel tucks in closer and kisses you in response. 

“That good, baby?” he whispers gently, a stark contrast to the way he’s absolutely ravaging your body right now for anyone walking by to see. You’re grateful it’s late enough that it’s unlikely, but even then, you can't be bothered by the thought with the way Joel feels inside of you right now. 

“So good,” you whimper in response, barely able to form words as your core ignites again, twisting in anticipation of another high. “You feel perfect.”

“That’s cause this pussy was made to take me, made to take this cock, baby, fuck…” Joel says, grunting as he thrusts into you. “Can feel you baby, you’re so close, give me another one, sweet girl,” Joel murmurs, pressing as flush to you as he can get. The sudden change gives some stimulation on your clit from the soft, dark curls above his cock, and combined with another brush against your g-spot, you’re losing a grip on reality so quickly you almost can’t keep up. 

“Joel… Joel… harder,” you cry out, desperate for your climax to burst out of you, to claw its way out from the tingling pit now formed right where Joel’s cock is pressing deep inside of you. He obeys, thrusting into at an alarming rate, your legs helping his speed as you press them into him with every inward thrust, matching his rhythm. 

You moan out long and low, the pleasure too much to take as the pressure builds to a point you nearly can’t take it anymore before you’re finally pushed over the edge by Joel biting into your neck. You hadn’t even noticed his head move down to do it, so lost in your own ecstasy, but the sensation of the pain with pleasure is enough to send you careening straight into your orgasm, practically screaming and sobbing with the intensity of it. Your slickness pours out onto Joel’s cock and he grunts and mumbles into your neck at the feeling before you feel the familiar sensation of you squirting, knowing the mess you’re making right now must be catastrophic between that and how hard you’d came. 

Joel seems intent on adding onto it, at the tail end of your climax as your cunt squeezes his cock, he releases with a long, loud grunt, cursing under his breath as he fucks into your cunt a few more times and spills himself into you. Ropes of his cum coat your walls, the warmth filling you nearly sending you over the edge another time in the midst of your oversensitivity. You feel tears rolling down your cheeks from the comedown of such an intense moment with him, feeling so fulfilled and grateful to be his. 

Joel sits for a long moment, his cock buried deep inside of you still, holding everything in that’s threatening to leak out around him. He pulls back from your shoulder and sees the few stray tears and smiles gently before kissing your cheeks, lapping them up in the process. When he does pull out, it’s then that you notice just how much of a depraved, wet, mess you two had made together. Joel can see and feel the mess between your legs and he tuts, half-impressed and half-teasing before helping you off the banister and onto your shaky legs. 

“Fuckin’ messy girl for me, ain’t ya?“ Joel cocks an eyebrow at you. 

You find yourself shying under his gaze, something that hasn’t happened for a long while now, and it feels refreshing in a way, almost like you two really are starting new. Joel wraps his arms around you after tucking himself back in, smoothing your dress down your backside for you. 

“S’okay, just how I like you, my messy little thing,” he coos, pinching your cheek quickly, and you giggle, pressing yourself into his chest, just letting him hold you.

“You comin’ inside?” he asks, and you can hear the hesitation in his voice, like he truly believes you may not want to spend any more time with him, that you’ll regret what you two did any second. 

“Thought you’d never ask,” you tease him, hoping to lighten his seemingly aching heart a bit and Joel smiles brightly in response. 

“Good, ‘cause I’m nowhere near done with you yet,” he replies, meeting your lips for a long, deep kiss. Unbelievably, you feel a swirl of desire crop up in your belly at the sensation, his perfectly plump lips giving in to yours so delicately but so deeply, and you let out a little moan. Joel pulls away, chuckling. “Sounds like neither are you,” he adds on, looking at you expectantly.

“C’mon, let’s go cowboy,” you say, grabbing his hand to walk to the door together.

“Cowboy, huh? That’s new,” Joel comments with a questioning brow.

“Trying something out,” you tell him with a shrug, grinning, and Joel laughs as he unlocks his front door and leads you inside. The second the door shuts behind you, you find Joel on top of you again, his tall frame crowding over you and his hands on your hips, quickly roaming over your back, ass, shoulders, anywhere he can touch as he takes you in, holding you close to him. His head dips down to breathe in your scent again, getting completely lost in it. You shudder under the feeling of his breath near your ear, hot and needy right on the sensitive skin there.

“Sorry, sweetheart, jus’ can’t help myself right now. Fuckin’ missed bein’ able to hold you like this, touch you anytime I want,” Joel confesses, still not letting up the way his hands are moving, landing on your ass to knead the plush globes there.

“Missed it too,” you breathe out, not minding one bit the things he’s apologizing for, finding your body melting into his again.

“How many times you think I can make you come before I’m ready for ya again?” Joel asks next to your ear, one of his hands gliding to the front of your body and slipping under your dress, immediately going right between your legs. You’re still soaked, remnants of your time outside all over you, your pussy feeling fucked out but still managing to respond to his touch. He slides a finger onto your inner thigh, where his cum has been steadily starting to drip down, gathering it onto his fingers and dragging it upwards towards your cunt. He swipes it through your seam, gathering some of your own slickness and then stuffing all of it back inside of your ravaged hole, pushing his fingers as far as they’ll go. 

“Fuck…” you whimper, arching your back. Joel’s frame pushes against you until your back is pressed into the door behind you, completely boxing you in with his body. His fingers start to work circles on your clit while the other hand comes up to palm your breast gently, rubbing it through the fabric.

“So fuckin’ pretty…” Joel murmurs, sliding a strap of your dress down your shoulder, hoping to reveal more of your skin to him. He seems to change his mind halfway through, pulling both of his hands off of you to grip at the bottom of your dress and pull upwards, lifting it off of you, leaving you standing naked before him. You tremble slightly at the feeling of being so exposed with him again, and the air conditioning of his house sending cool air dancing over your now goosebumped skin. 

Joel takes you in, his eyes roaming over your body, temptation screaming in his blown out pupils. You writhe under his gaze slightly, desperate for him to return to touching you again, but he continues to take several long moments of looking at you before gently brushing a finger up your arm. You shiver more violently now, and Joel’s hand grazes inwards, finally landing at your nipple, pinching the taut bud and pulling hard on it. You cry out, back arching against the door as your knees begin to shake a little.

“God, baby, said you were pretty, but this is fuckin’ beautiful. Fuckin’ divine, lookin’ at you like this,” Joel says, shaking his head, entranced by watching his fingers pinch and roll your hard nipples.

“Joel… please,” you whine out, your thighs clamping together desperately, feeling wetness and heat pooling between your legs again.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what d’ya need…?”

“Touch my clit, Joel.”

“All you had to do was use your words.” He grins, obliging you by resuming the circles on your clit, more languidly this time as he keeps his other hand playing mercilessly with your pink buds. It’s no surprise when the familiar swelling of pleasure rapidly builds deep inside of you at Joel’s touch, your breathing labored as you shut your eyes and lean your head back on the door, moaning quietly.

“Eyes on me, baby, need ya to look at me when you come,” Joel says, voice soft and sweet, with his sudden grip on your chin to tilt your head back down anything but. His fingers grab tightly, greedily, at your delicate chin, holding your head in place as your eyes threaten to roll back at the way his fingers are working between your legs, tight, perfect circles being rubbed on your clit. 

“Fuck, Joel, I-I’m coming,” you cry out, followed by several loud, staccato moans that drag out into long whimpers as you buck down onto his hand, body shaking and impossibly taut as you come. Stars invade your vision before it goes fully white, pleasure rocking what feels like every cell in your body. All you’re aware of for those few blissful moments are the way Joel’s fingers move, riding you through the climax, and how his name spills off your lips over and over, begging him for something you’re not even sure of yourself. 

Throughout all of it, you try to keep your eyes locked on Joel’s, but can’t help it when your eyes squeeze shut in the high. When you finally peek them open, Joel looks at you with a satisfied sigh, his tight hold on your chin turning into a softer, gentler stroking leading up to your cheek. He brushes the hair away on your forehead that’s now stuck there with the small sheen of sweat you’d worked up and tucks it behind you ear, his lips turning up into a small smile. 

He kisses you, his lips barely fluttering against yours in a soft meeting of your lips, one that isn’t meant to lead anywhere further. Just soft, loving presses over and over to your lips, and you’re finally coming out of your fucked our haze to be able to return them properly. 

“Lemme take you to bed, hm?” Joel says, pressing his forehead to yours. You nod tiredly, the pleasurable post-orgasm haze taking over your brain.

“Only if you carry me.”

Joel crouches to press his hands underneath your ass, urging you up by the thighs, so you grip his shoulders and let him lift you, wrapping your legs around his thick middle and supporting yourself around his neck. Joel can hardly think straight, with the whole of your bare skin pressed against him, clinging on tightly like he’s the only thing that matters in the entire world right now. He can feel the heat of you through his clothing, wishing with a fuzzy head that there wasn’t anything between the two of you, that he could envelop you in his own heat, that they could mingle endlessly together. He could hardly wait to get you in his bedroom and make that exact desire of his come true. 

When Joel sets you on the edge of his bed, he stands in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt slowly and intently, watching you to see your eyes lighting up as he works at the buttons. You stand up and grasp his hands gently, moving them to the side to take over, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing each new bit of skin that’s revealed on his chest. Joel finally shrugs the plaid shirt off and onto the floor, and you get to work on his jeans, pulling his belt off and through all of the loops in a slow, dragging movement. Joel chuckles a heady laugh at the way you’re so perfectly teasing him right now before you unzip his jeans and pull everything down, leaving him standing just as naked as you are.

“C-can I jus’ hold you like this?” Joel asks tentatively, despite his cock being at full attention once again from the way you’d undressed him. You can’t help but smile when Joel shows this more shy side of himself and you give him a nod, pulling away to crawl onto the bed and lay down. Neither of you have turned on any lights in the room, instead letting the moonlight spill in through the front window and illuminate enough that it casts a low, shimmering light through the room.

Joel slides in right next to you, wrapping his toned arms around you immediately, pulling you flush with his body and you wrap one leg over top of him, one hand placed flat on his chest, rubbing along the dusting of salt and pepper hair there. You both sigh contentedly at the feel of the other’s skin, so warm and soothing after spending all that time apart. The silence is comfortable, despite the both of you knowing there are mountains of things to discuss between the two of you.

Joel clears his throat, a hand rubbing up and down your forearm that rests along his torso. “Not one to ruin a perfect moment like this, but I gotta ask…” he starts, swallowing nervously. “Why’d you decide to come tonight? What… changed your mind?”

You blink a few times, biting the inside of your lip, trying to compile everything you’d been thinking recently for Joel.

“I just… did. I saw you realize that you’d made a mistake, and how much it hurt both of us. I was scared to trust you again, but you never left my side once you realized what you wanted. I’ve never stopped… wanting it, Joel. Wanting you.”

“I never did neither, darlin’. Swear it,” Joel says quietly, nuzzling his mouth onto the top of your head, breathing you in. “Thought I was savin’ you from me. Thought I couldn’t be worth it.”

“You’ve always been worth it, Joel. All the shit that happened, worrying about my parents, people judging us, job offers, any of it. I just want to be happy with you, I promise.”

“I see that now, honey, how fuckin’ selfish I actually was. ‘M so sorry,” he replies, a slight crack to his voice as he keeps it quiet.

“I know you are, you’ve shown me and said it so many times now. Thank you for not giving up,” you tell him sincerely, rubbing absentminded circles on his chest.

Joel huffs, shaking your head on his shoulder a bit. “Should be thankin’ you for that, darlin’, not the other way around. Y’should’ve given up on an old man like me.”

“Never, Joel,” you say. “Even if you are an old man.”

“Hey, now,” Joel scolds you lightly. “Only okay when I say it.”

You both break into a quick laughter, and you shift and tilt your head up, offering your lips to his, and he takes it, leaning his head slightly to meet your lips with his for a chaste kiss.

“Fine. You’re so youthful, don’t even look a day over twenty five, I swear,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Okay, now you’re jus’ bein’ mean,” Joel says with a frown.

“Thirty?”

“Mmm, better.” Joel chuckles, and you pull yourself tighter to him, your warm heat nearing dangerously close to his cock. Your hand traces down his chest, fingers gently grazing the base of his length now. 

“Missed this so much. Missed you,” you say quietly, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling him stiffen, his cock hardening from semi-soft to throbbing in just a few moments of you toying with it.

“Y’have no idea…” Joel replies breathlessly, his hips jutting up into your hand slightly as it roams over his length. 

“Wanna just feel you… please…” you whimper, feeling precum already gathering at his tip, swiping it onto your finger and into your mouth, sucking the slightly salty, tangy fluid completely clean before putting your hand back to his cock.

Joel groans out at the entire interaction, his eyes blazing with heat. “God, sweetheart, want to fuckin’ wreck your little pussy, but…” He winces in embarrassment. “My fuckin’ back… from what we did outside. Went a little too hard.” You try to stifle your smile, having just argued over him being an old man, but you reign it in. 

“That’s okay, baby. I can ride you just as hard,” you say with quirked eyebrows. Joel chuckles but splays his palms in the air quickly, as if to say be my guest.

You shift your weight, straddling Joel and placing your already dripping pussy above his cock, notching him at your entrance. You lean down to kiss him and with the same motion, you press your hips down, letting his cock slide inside effortlessly. You’ve been perpetually wet just being in his presence, and from the way you’ve been warmed up over and over tonight, he’s completely sheathed in you before you even know it. 

You groan at the fullness from this angle, and Joel does the same, his eyes fluttering slightly as he shifts underneath you. He winces slightly from his back hurting but relaxes his tensing body as you start to bounce your hips gently, testing the waters. Joel smiles up at you, his features melting into pleasure as you basically start jerking him off with your cunt, letting him lay back and enjoy the sensations.

Shit, you think suddenly. You should tell Joel about Dylan. You don’t know why it crosses your mind right in this perfect moment, when you’re both so incandescently happy to just be together, but the sudden guilt hits you right in the gut. You know you aren’t in the wrong, but you want to be honest with Joel, not have anything between the two of you if you’re going to start over like this.

You slow your movement, pressing your lips together, and Joel looks at you quizzically, noticing the change in your expression.

“This might be the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done to say this right now, but I have to tell you something,” you blurt out, and Joel’s eyebrows draw together, his eyes slightly widening in concern.

He rubs your lower back, sensing your hesitation. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says softly.

“When… we…w-weren’t talking, I slept with someone. It was just once, it was not even… it wasn’t anything, but I did do it. When I was drunk. And it wasn’t even any g -” you ramble breathlessly, still moving yourself up and down on Joel’s cock. He tightly grasps your hips, pulling you down, hips flush with his, stopping your movements.

“Woah, woah, relax, relax, baby. Okay, it’s okay,” he says.

“It is?” you ask, wide eyed.

“Don’t exactly love it, y’know how I feel about you bein’ mine and only mine, but I can’t say I blame ya. Left you high and dry out there.”

“Right…” you say quietly, still incredulous that Joel isn’t completely freaking out right now from this news.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill whoever it is, but ‘sides that,” Joel chuckles genially, “Don’t feel bad, baby. Jus’ makes me wanna fuck you even fuckin’ harder, make you forget that even happened.” He lets a small growl slip from deep in his throat, clutching onto the plush skin of your hips and ass, his long fingers spreading along both areas and kneading.

You start to grind your hips a little again, lifting slightly up and back down, beginning a steady rhythm on him.

“Oh really? Think you could?” you ask low and teasingly. “Honestly, it wasn’t any good, if that helps.”

“No? Not any good, huh?” Joel grunts a little as he lifts his hips up into you, unable to help himself despite his back aching and screaming at him.

You shake your head, pursing your lips as you continue your slow pace on top of him. “Mm-mm. Didn’t even get me off…” You run a hand down Joel’s chest slowly. “Shame, really, that no other man could ever live up to you.”

“Fuck…” Joel curses under his breath. “Gonna give a man an ego, sayin’ things like that.” Joel pauses, just enjoying the way you’re gyrating on his cock for a few moments. His eyes snap open again and he looks at you with a furrowed brow. “Didn’t get you off at all?”

You shake your head slowly and deliberately as you ride him. 

“Fuck, need to do good to you tonight, then, baby,” he says, his voice slightly strained from the emotions he’s feeling. It’s a mixture of desperation, sadness, and fucking anger at what happened. How anyone could get a chance to be with you, to taste and fuck that sweet pussy of yours and not even give you what you deserved, it made Joel feel the feral side of him clawing it’s way out. His hand reaches up, cupping the side of your face before sliding around to the back of your head and pushing your head down so that it’s close to his mouth, forehead practically resting on his shoulder. He holds your hair tightly in his grip, letting his lips brush against the skin of your ear. 

“Whatever you need to do to me, I’m yours… I want you to fuckin’ come so hard you never come back down, that you can’t never think of another man again ‘sides me. Want your fuckin’ knees shakin’, cunt drippin’, fuckin’ soaked f’me, squeezin my cock so hard, so full you can’t even breathe…” Joel mutters out, sending your entire body shivering and convulsing with the combination of his words and the vibration of his deep rasp right next to your ear. 

You spasm your hips down onto him, pussy clenching at his words and feeling his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you. “F-fuck…” you whimper, nearly reaching your high from his words alone. You pull your head back slightly with Joel’s permission, his tight grasp on your hair lightening up, and smirk down at him. 

“Y’sure you can do that, old man? With your bad back and everything?” Your lips press together so tightly to repress your laughter that you feel like you’re going to pop. You begin to ride him faster as you speak, feeling all of you bouncing, your tits dancing appealingly right in his face. Joel lifts his head, takes one into his mouth and sucks harder than he ever has, and you gasp loudly, unable to pull away. He lets it go with a small pop and looks up at you, darkness flashing in his eyes. 

“Gonna fuckin’ wish you never said that,” Joel states before he sits up, groaning quickly with the effort and then deciding its well worth it, grasps your back and flips you around, slamming you down into the bed with him. His entire weight is on you, straddling you, the movement from flipping pushing his cock so deep that you squeal out in both pain and pleasure. He ruts into you hard now, lifting both of your legs to his shoulders, putting you in a tight, cramped position where they’re trapped between your body and his now. 

All you can feel is Joel, Joel, Joel - his cock pressing against your spongy part inside again, his sweat intermingling with yours, his ragged breaths as he pounds into you with no mercy. You cry out, tears stinging your eyes from how fucking deep he is, you think he’s hitting your cervix at this point and it’s a sensation you haven’t experienced before, but it’s tearing you up from the inside out how good it feels. You can’t do anything but whimper as Joel asserts himself over you, trying to make the words he whispered in your ear become a reality. 

He leans even closer, the angle completely devastating you as a few tears slip free from where they’ve been brimming in your eyes. “Tell me how good I am to you, hm? Wanna hear you praise this fuckin’ cock,” Joel says, his voice so smooth and controlled for how hard he’s ravaging your body right now.

“So good, Joel, fuck… your c-cock… you’re so good to me.”

“Again,” he commands, turning his head to bite down onto one of your legs that are framing near his face. You whimper loudly, barely able to even think of the words to say, let alone speak them.

“N-never want another c-cock. Can only take y-yours, so good to me, so f-fuckin’ big and full, Joel.” Your face scrunches up slightly, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Joel snaps his hips into your over and over, your insides coiling with heat and everything good when he hits the perfect spots inside of you.

“That’s right,” he groans desperately, clearly as affected by your praise as you are his. Nearly effortlessly for his back hurting him, he pulls out of your cunt, leaving it squeezing at nothing. He quickly looks down at your fluttering, fucked out cunt and spits quickly in-between your legs before he turns your body belly down on the bed, your legs shaking as you bring them down and nearly melt into the mattress. You’re shaking, your knees and thighs completely quaking just as Joel had wanted, and you’re thankful for the break. Joel’s hands grasp either of your ass and lift it slightly off the bed, angling himself behind you and slamming right back into your cunt. You nearly scream, the stretch of him all over again nearly too much with how heightened everything feels. 

“‘M I still so good for you, baby?” he asks. You can only nod, and breathe out a quiet, raspy “yes”, your face turned off the mattress to try to look back at him.

“Ready to come, angel? I can feel you, so fuckin’ tight, practically beggin’ for it, ain’t ya?” Joel says, his voice less controlled now, and you can tell he’s just as close as you are. He slides a hand between your body and the mattress, leaning himself closer, changing the angle of himself inside of you and it’s perfect, holy shit it’s perfect.

His finger finds your clit in a second, flicking and rubbing circles frantically as your body writhes and bounces into his thrusts. You moan over and over, his name, expletives, anything you can think of to finally reach your high. The tension low in your belly snaps, and you go off the edge, screaming Joel’s name along the way as your legs shake underneath him and your cunt tightens impossibly taut around him, fluttering and spasming. Joel curses, pushing in as deep as possible while he comes along with you, his vision going white as he grunts your name and claims you with his hot ropes of cum spilling inside of you. He relishes in the feeling, the way you take all of him in a moment like this, moaning louder as soon as you feel that he’s coming along with you. 

You continue to tremble, trying to come down from the way Joel has just turned your world upside down. You should have known - when Joel says something, he means it, and the way you’d just went higher than the god damned heavens just now proves it.

You let out soft, whimpering sounds as you lay there, body completely slack and feeling unable to even lift your head until you regain some composure.

“Shit…” Joel murmurs, concerned, his body wrapping around yours in a second. “Y’okay, baby? You hurt?”

“N-no,” you croak out, trying to give him some semblance of a head shake. “Just… j-ust…”

“So fucked out f’me,” Joel teases, wiggling his eyebrows a bit as he feels the situation lighten. If you had the energy, you’d punch him on the arm, but you just groan in agreement. Joel laughs, nuzzling his nose onto your shoulder. “Just how I fuckin’ like it, means I did you like you deserve, sweetheart.”

“You can say that again… I mean, fuck, Joel.” You giggle a little bit, finally feeling your senses coming back to you as you try to roll over.

“Say the same to you, so perfect f’me tonight, baby. Promise I’ll take it slow next time. Give you all the sweet stuff,” Joel laughs at his own words and you roll your eyes.

“You’d better, I’m gonna barely be able to walk for days, swear to God,” you scoff.

“Jus’ means I get to take care of ya. My poor baby can’t even walk,” Joel clicks his tongue, “Cock jus’ too big f’ya?” he teases, and you let out a disapproving noise, trying to squirm away from him in irritation, but he holds you even tighter. “Jus’ admit it, s’okay honey. Not everyone can take it.” Joel says tauntingly, shrugging nonchalantly to add on to the teasing torture he’s lashing on you.

“You know I can take it, Miller. Fuckin’ better than anyone,” you snip back, trying to turn away from him still, but Joel manages to scoop your body into his, spooning you now, crossing his arms tightly over your chest.

“Damn fuckin’ right,” Joel admits, giving up the charade. He kisses the back of your head, trailing them down to your neck. “My perfect girl.”

“Yours,” you echo back, snuggling your body into his and feeling so at peace you could nearly cry. This is where you were meant to be, right here in Joel’s arms. Always.

taglist: @paleidiot@mumma-moonchild@soph55@chicville03@joelsversion@feliciab1990@fellinfromthetop@gossipgirl-03@sarap-77@blueseastorm@akah565​ @pattwtf @scarlettthefierce

[etherealyoungk]

—⟡ covert desires (teaser)

summary:  the mission is simple - infiltrate a high-stakes auction that the top leaders, businessmen, women, and politicians of the world attend every year and steal one of the most highly guarded and hidden-away paintings from the target’s collection. the only downside, you had to work with kim mingyu, whom you absolutely hated. and to make it even worse, you had to pretend to be his wife for this mission to work.

pairing: spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader)

themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing

warnings: suggestive, kissing, use of curse words, weapons, guns, knives, violence, use of drugs/painkillers, blood, gore, killing, death

wordcount: 750 words for the teaser (17.8k full fic) link to full fic here!

a/n: i had so much fun writing this! please note that this is purely a work of fiction! 

i'll be posting the full fic when i hit 3.5k to celebrate! teaser under the cut!

you wipe the last of the blood off your hands and carefully move the body, manipulating the crime scene to make it look like it was a suicide. with a carefully crafted suicide scene, the police wouldn’t even blink an eye and just close the case as a suicide, not wanting to bother investigating further.

you just had to leave around the right clues and bait them. once they’d find it, they’d conclude the case without thinking any further and your job was done. you were sure no one would even miss the bastard that you had just sent to hell anyways. after scanning the room, you make sure everything is in place before exiting quietly and disappearing into the shadows. 

when you reach home to your apartment, you swiftly change out of your soiled and bloody clothes. the idiot decided had put up a fight, making things harder for himself really. you planned on killing him quietly, but the fight he put up was unnecessary and he wasn’t going to stand a chance against you regardless. you would have finished earlier and your clothes would have been significantly less bloody. sighing, you peel off the clothes and they fall to the floor in a heap as you step into the shower. the warm water offers some sort of relief and relaxation, your muscles relaxing under the hot water. wrapping a towel around yourself, you step out and hear the faint ring of your burner phone fill the room.

“hello?”, you say as you put the phone to your ear.

“did you get the job done?”, the voice on the other side asks.

“yes, you didn’t hire the best for no reason, did you?”, you scoff back, offended he’d have a sliver of doubt in your skills. 

“good. we have another urgent matter on hand and it has to be discussed in person. you know where to meet me”, the voice adds.

“i swear if it’s another-“

 “you’ll love this one, trust me”, the voice says, cutting you short and hanging up as you begin to say something. you curse under your breath; that idiot never had manners. you huff,  throwing the phone on the bed, changing into something comfortable before you crash into bed, too tired to complain or think about anything else. 

you were an assassin or a hired killer you could say. but you liked to call yourself an assassin - because let’s be real, it sounds cooler. you were trained, skilled, and good at what you did – which was killing people, bad people specifically. when you weren’t out hunting people down, you were working as a barista at a local cafe. it was somewhat therapeutic compared to your other occupation. but you had to if you wanted to survive in this world. if you wanted your life to have some semblance of normalcy. the world was a cruel place and somehow you ended up doing this for a living but hey, at least it paid well.

the next morning you’re sitting in the hall of seungcheol’s fancy office, or what you liked to call the safehouse. “you’re here! let me tell seungcheol”, dino says upon seeing you, flashing you a friendly smile. you give him a small smile as he retreats, making his way to look for seungcheol.

seungcheol walks in a few moments later, and his presence can be felt in the room immediately. no one messes with him – everyone knew that. he was the most feared man in the underground mafia and a threat to the government as well. his connections and dirt on powerful people ran too deep with secrets only he knew and used as leverage. hell, even the government would hire him to do their dirty work so he was practically untouchable.

“what’s this urgent matter that needs to be discussed in person?”, you ask, once he sits down opposite you.

“no hi?”, he prompts, raising his brow as he looks at you.

“no thank you for yesterday?”, you prod back, challenging him. you were really the only person seungcheol let speak to him like that. he’d pretty much raised you and he didn’t seem to mind, especially since you did most of his dirty work.

“we seem to have gotten ourselves another lucrative mission”, he starts off, treading carefuly with his words. “it’s something worth millions if not billions, so this is a really high-stakes operation.”, he tells, observing you. “and we’re getting paid handsomely for it and so will you if it goes well”, he says.

taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @fairyhaos @icyminghao @kyeomyun @joshuaahong @idubiluv @slytherinshua @wheeboo

send an ask or drop a comment down below to be added to the taglist for this fic!

[lalunanymph]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐆𝐎

↳ a foul-mouthed, aggressive, pro-soccer player on the verge of being disqualified from the biggest game of his life, is tossed into a fake relationship with a spoiled heiress to salvage their bad public reputation. what exactly could go wrong?

𖨆♡𖨆 itoshi rin x fem!reader

cw. mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, sexual tension, mean!rin, fake dating, language, suggestive content, reader wears makeup & does skincare, one slap, slow burn

masterlist | playlist

#2: LOVE ABUSER

That morning, you woke up on the soft bed, unsure how you had found yourself here. 

The last thing you remembered was Rin’s cruel words, and then you had sat on the sofa in a huff, fatigue overtaking you; where you fell into a quick slumber with your arms crossed tightly around your frame, and a frown etched on your face.

While you were still in your dress from the night before, your limbs and neck did not hurt, evident from the good sleep you had managed to get. Your phone on the nightstand chirped, and a notification popped up.

The production team is about half an hour away from your penthouse.

Your brows furrowed at Anri’s message, your foggy mind sifting through your commitments for today. 

It hit you the same moment Rin’s loud swearing reached your ears. 

“—the production team is coming today!” 

“—fuck, they’re on the way.” 

You both blinked at each other. Rin’s hand on the doorframe was curled into a fist, frustration on his pretty, sleep-warm face. He had barged into the bedroom at the right time, still in his dress shirt from yesterday, and looked a little worse for wear after his night on the unforgiving couch. Between your smudged makeup, his rumpled clothes and the animosity which existed between you two, there was a lot of work to do before the studio team arrived.

They were a production house hired by Ego to film you and Rin for a segment called Living With You—a popular reality show where the everyday lives of famous couples would be streamed for the world to see. Frankly, the thought of such invasive media made you uncomfortable, but it was the price to pay for being in a relationship with Itoshi Rin—albeit a fake one, of course.

You shared a look with him, one that said we’re fucked. Rin didn’t spare any time to think. 

“Get dressed. We have to clean the house before they arrive.”

It was the fastest shower you had taken in your life. Rin threw open the balcony doors and windows to let in fresh air, and sprayed a ton of Febreeze on the couch; conscious to pick up any evidence that he was spending nights separately from you. He kicked his blanket and pillows into the spare room, and once you were out of the shower, he brushed past you to clean himself up. 

It was your turn to wipe down the counters and sanitise the kitchen. Running a quick mop on the floors was a feat considering you were suffering from a hangover. 

The throbbing in your temples were aggravated by the sight of your shirtless “boyfriend” exiting the bathroom, water sticking to his abs and the ends of his dark hair damp. You tried hard not to stare at him, averting your gaze to the task at hand. Rin brushed past you, helping you clean up the dishes and storing them overhead, oblivious to you growing flustered from his close proximity and blatant half-nudity.

Stop staring at him! You bit your lip, focusing hard on removing a stubborn stain on the otherwise pristine marble. 

“Did you put on some makeup?” Rin demanded. Though the professional team would handle your appearance, you had to withhold a semblance of self-possession; judging from your disorderly countenance, they could tell you weren’t in the right train of mind. Your hair was sticking up in odd ends, and your face was too plain.

Shooting him a glare, you tossed the soiled cloth at his broad chest with a huff. “Fine. Make sure that spot is gone when I come back.”

You didn’t stop to assess his reaction, thundering towards the bedroom to make up your face and try to arrange the bed. Once your cheeks and lips were shining with health and you looked somewhat invigorated, unlike a corpse suffering from a hangover, you laid the duvet flat, fluffed up the pillows and yelled for Rin to put his shirt on.

His gruff protest reached you, and you rolled your eyes. Stupid, over-sized man child.

A knock on the door halted your frantic movements, and you sensed Rin freezing, too. The both of you were thrown into such an unprecedented scenario that neither of you knew what to do next. Another knock persisted.

Finally, it was you who unglued your limbs and rushed to the door, plastering on a smile. “Coming!”

The production crew were younger than you expected, and returned your tight smile with bows and quick introductions. They set up their equipment on the sidelines, while you were prepped by the makeup team. In keeping up with the homey-theme, you could not appear too glam and they chose a more natural finish for your skin which complemented Rin’s healthy glow. 

He was sullen when the stylists brushed his hair and primed his skin with a light layer of foundation, reminding you of a puppy that was forced to be sent to a pet groomer. 

The director arrived an hour later, holding a cup of coffee and an apology for his tardiness. 

He shook hands with Rin and gave you a low bow. Ego had sent a Blue Lock representative, the PR manager whose name you still did not know, and Anri herself. On your side, your father sent his assistant to make sure you were on your best behaviour.

The time to shoot was almost on you both, and before the cameras could roll, you were surprised when Rin pulled you into a corner. His sudden close proximity after last night’s tension laden confrontation made your stomach turn funny, and you tried to mimic his deadpan expression, a similar scowl on your face.

“What, Itoshi?” 

“I know you’re pissed off at me, but our reputations are hanging by a thread here.” He spoke in a low, deep whisper. You hated how it sent shocks of electricity up your spine, your skin prickling from every warm exhale caressing the nape of your neck; goosebumps rising from the closeness this sudden proximity forced you in less anyone else accidentally overheard the both of you plotting. “I need your help to cooperate, okay? I really want to go to the World Cup and Coach Ego will ban me if I get more bad press.”

The power you held to have the Itoshi Rin begging for you to work together with him. You bristled and frowned. Wasn’t it the exact same thing you had told him yesterday? His switch-ups were making you dizzy with whiplash. 

“Whatever.” 

Your callous response must’ve shocked him because a furrow appeared in between his brows. Hammering in your insolence, you pressed your palm flat on his chest and pushed him aside with a scoff.

“Wait—” Rin reached for your wrist and tugged you back into the alcove, his body pressed tightly to yours. You tried not to warm at how you were close enough for your chest to brush his defined one, those teal eyes boring down into your face with a glare of desperation. “You were… you were right.”

You could tell it took a lot from Itoshi Rin to admit his mistake judging from his gritted teeth and clenched jaw. “We have to be teammates. I… fuck. Help me and I’ll… help you.”

Rin trailed off, unsure if he was saying the right things.

He was such a ball of constipated emotions, you could not tell where his consternation started and his desperation ended. 

Deciding that it would be easier for you to accept his truce than to drag it on for the sake of today’s shoot, you reluctantly nodded.

“Fine.” Your voice was cold, remotely absent of the fondness you would hold for everyone around you, even for your distant and indifferent “boyfriend”. Rin’s furrowed brow deepened, and he was about to ask you if you were kidding when you squeezed past his tight grip and back into the living room.

Your expression did a complete change, and you grinned at Anri. “Is it time to shoot?” 

She glanced at the camera setup and nodded, a quick, eager bob of her head. “Almost. Are you and Itoshi-kun ready?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You felt his arm wrap lightly around your waist and stiffened slightly. But, if Rin felt your sudden clamminess, he didn't comment on it, fixing Anri with a reserved stare. “We’re ready.”

The Blue Lock co-founder smiled fondly. “Remember to show some emotion, Itoshi-kun. It would be good for your ranking.”

Someone yelled action!, and the silent cameras started to roll.

The crux of Living With You was a show where couples would go about their daily lives and the cameras would follow them. Based on your knowledge from a few clips, it was sort of like a voyeuristic look into the world of the rich and famous—who just so happened to be in love with each other. 

Your stomach grumbled at a good time, and you padded over to the kitchen, humming lightly. Rin’s scene was scripted to start from the home gym where he would be doing a set of reps, designed to emphasise his intense dedication to soccer. On your end, you were the supportive, slightly exasperated significant other who prepared a meticulous breakfast for your boyfriend in the hopes he would pay attention to his health.  

You started out with some fresh fruits, chopping them up and blending strawberries, blueberries and kiwis together for a vitamin-C rich smoothie. Next, you got a handful of granola and placed them in a bowl topped with some yoghurt.

“Morning.”

Rin’s voice, scripted out to sound loving, greeted you and you turned to smile at him. His teal eyes were soft, expression hazy to show a man utterly in love with his girlfriend. 

“Morning,” you murmured, and handed him his breakfast. Despite the numerous people on set, you couldn’t help but rake your eyes up and down his bare body. You were sure the comments online later would catch this bit and gush at how you were checking out your “boyfriend’s” physique.

“Thank you for the food,” he murmured, and shot you a small smile.

You returned it with a nod and a grin. “You better eat up, Rinny. I have some repairs I need your help with.”

He pretended to grumble, sitting at the kitchen counter with his bowl of granola in hand. “You’re always making me work, woman. I want to rest.”

In retaliation for his sour retort, you stood on your tiptoes and pecked his cheek. “Don’t you go acting like Nagi now. Otherwise, Ego-san will have a handful with two lazy players.”

Rin glowered playfully and poked your side. “Fine. Let me handle that later.”

Thankfully, the streaming would take about half an hour for them to highlight important bits of the episode when Rin fixed a conveniently “broken” shower head, and then, you both would be taken away separately on a short confessional regarding this entire relationship to intersperse it with the final cut. 

Your turn came up soon, and when the interviewer sat you down, you suddenly felt too nervous. However, your expression schooled into a bright smile when the cameras started to roll.

“So, Y/N,” the man with a slicked back pompadour and heavy cologne asked. “How did you and Itoshi-san meet?” 

You pretended to look away shyly and avoid the camera’s lens. “Oh. Um. Wow—uh, okay. We met at a record shop and debated about Green Day for a bit. He had very, um, high standards for music, and I was trying to convince him that my taste in music wasn’t as bad as it seemed.” 

A pretend laugh, and the corners of the interviewer’s eyes crinkled in pleasant surprise. “I had no idea it would lead to him asking me out on a date and, well, here we are.”

“Aww.” You could just picture the other viewers cooing along with him. “That is so cute! What do you like the most about him—and remember, please keep it PG!”

You chuckled along with his innuendo and remained bashful. “Um, I really like how he—” you paused, suddenly coming up blank; the string of designated answers you were supposed to give eluding you. The red camera light flashed, waiting for your response. You cleared your throat. 

“I like how strong he is,” you finally confessed, and this time, it was not the repertoire of answers Ego and your father sanctioned for you to give. You were speaking from the depths of your heart. “Many people may see Rin-san as a cold, aloof man, but behind it all, he’s a person who has strong principles and goals. Sometimes, it may rub people the wrong way, but Rin doesn’t mean any harm. He wants what is best for himself and others around him, especially his Blue Lock team.” You ended your confessional with a short laugh. “I guess that’s what I like the most about him—his unwavering passion for the things he loves in his life.”

Your segment ended with a round of bows and expressed gratitude. You did not see Rin emerge from his own confessional, and you wondered what he would say about you. If he could even say anything about you. 

Anri took your arm and gave you a warm smile. “You did great. Your father told me to congratulate you.”

Your smile was paper thin and you nodded weakly. I just want to go back to bed.

Finally, Rin emerged from the guest bedroom where he had his segment, and the production house called it a wrap. The equipment was stowed away, the place cleaned and finally, you both had the apartment back to yourself.

Funnily enough, you and Rin both sagged onto the couch at the same time, exhausted from the unexpected ambush Ego and your father set on you two. He turned to face you, unexpectedly asking how your confessional went.

“Did you tell them the correct story of how we met?” 

You nodded, closing your eyes for a second. “Yup. The record store story.”

Rin paused. “Oh. I fibbed on the first date because I forgot what Ego said but I mentioned the second one. The—”

“Museum date,” you both said at the same time.

“Yup,” you murmured. “That’s fine. You’re a man, you’re allowed to forget stuff like this. They won’t crucify you for it.”

Evidently done with this awkward conversation, you stood up and stretched. “I want to go back to sleep. You do whatever you want to do.”

For the second time, Rin hesitated. You found you were growing intimately acquainted with his quirks at an alarming rate; first his eyes would glimmer with uncertainty, his brow would furrow and then his mouth parted as if he was about to ask a question.

You didn’t want to speak to him after what he said last night, and turned on your heel before he could say anything else to ruin your mood.

Despite your exhaustion, you could not fall back asleep. You tossed and turned while the morning sun streamed through the curtains, only to sit up at the smell of something tantalising from the kitchen. The last thing you expected was Rin to be cooking at the stove, in his simple shirt and shorts combo, the combination of sunlight and shadows bringing attention to his toned thighs.

You rubbed your eyes, smudging a little of the undereye concealer as a shuddering yawn overtook you. “What did you make?” 

He turned around and regarded you neutrally. “Katsu curry. I know it’s your favourite.”

How did he know? You never told him that. 

“It was in your profile,” he murmured curtly, answering your silent question. “Now, eat. You barely had anything yesterday.” 

Rin set a plate down in front of you, and you eyed it apprehensively. “Did you poison it?” 

His glare was back and he crossed his arms. The sight would’ve been more frightening if his tousled dark green hair was not sticking up at odd ends, evidence of him struggling to figure out how this high-tech kitchen operated. 

“No. And even if I did, I wouldn't waste poison on you. It probably cost a bomb. Now,” he scoffed. “Eat.” 

You picked up your chopsticks, grumbling bossy asshole under your breath. But, you thanked him for the meal and bit into the first scoop of rice and curry, surprised to find how good it was. You ate heartily, pausing to scrape the remaining curry from the plate and down it with your last scoop of rice. 

Rin let you wash up, and he was back on the sofa, reading a book. You paused, unsure if he wanted to be interrupted since he was staring intently at the pages. Curiosity won, and turned to fire off your question. “Aren’t you going to train today?”

“It’s Sunday,” he rebuked curtly. “The training centre is closed.”

Oh. You struggled to return back to your task, suddenly feeling foolish.

“Don’t you… don’t you have anything to do today?” 

Your repetitive motion of scrubbing the plates ceased, and you set the sponge back in its container. Was the Itoshi Rin actually trying to make conversation with you? 

“Nah,” you murmured after a beat of hesitation. “I’m going to chill today and do some skincare.”

“Oh.” Another drag of silence. “Can I do it with you?” 

This time, you did not hesitate to gape at him, soap suds clinging to your hands. “Uh. Why?” 

He pointed to his skin, as if it would give you the answer you needed. When you didn’t get it, he huffed in frustration. “Clogged pores,” Rin murmured. “Help me with it?” 

You supposed there was a first time for everything. Like how you were currently standing above Rin who was leaning his head back, two eye mask patches resting snuggly on his face and your jade roller gently de-puffing his cheeks and chin.

“I never understood what that shit did,” he grumbled, gesturing to your roller. You snorted and angled it to his neck, rolling it upwards to pull his skin taut. 

“It’s supposed to tighten your skin and drain your lymph nodes.”

“My what?” 

You sighed. “Men just don’t understand.”

Rin’s skin was surprisingly soft as you worked an exfoliating scrub on the planes of his face. “Don’t you have some expensive esthetician to help you with this,” it was your turn to grumble.

“It’s Sunday,” he growled, like it would give you an answer to your question. You snapped your mouth shut and continued to scrub his pores clean of any gunk.

When you were done, Rin checked his skin out in the grand bathroom’s mirror and nodded. 

“Nice. Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you mumbled and started on yourself. Rin remained seated on the plush makeup bench, watching you work without saying a word. You paused from scooping out your LaMer scrub and darted your eyes to him. “Anything else I missed?” 

He shrugged. “I want to take notes.” 

Such a weird dude. You didn’t question his strangeness and continued with your motions. Occasionally, Rin would glance at his phone, but his attention would return to you. How meticulous you were with your skin reminded him of how some of the guys had a strict pre-game ritual they always committed to.

It was strange to see this sort of diligence and dedication outside of the field.

“My job demands this,” you murmured, taking him quietly by surprise. How did you know exactly what he was thinking?

“I have to always look good for the camera no matter what so I cultivated this really strict skincare routine,” you said frankly. “It sucks, but I have to always be on top of my game.” You flickered your gaze momentarily to his broad and muscular frame. “I’m sure you understand what that dedication is like.”

Rin cleared his throat and nodded, unsure why your little motion of checking him out left his cheeks feeling a little too warm. It made him feel insecure, and he quickly stood up, backing out of the bathroom with a low mumble of gotta train.

You tried to ignore him and took your time in making yourself feel better through these little acts of selfcare. Despite this uneasy truce between you and him, you weren’t sure when the other shoe would drop; when he would revert back to his condescending mannerisms and scald you with his sharp tongue.

Time passed on and you were finally done, stepping out of the bathroom in time to run into one very sweaty and half-naked Rin.

“Wh—!” 

“Watch it,” he grumbled, steadying you. 

Ugh! You clapped your hands to your eyes, shrieking when the sight of his bulging abs and flexing biceps burned into your eyes. You stepped back from him, and shook your head from side to side as if to rid yourself of the image of his bare body seemingly ingrained on your lids. “Will it kill you to wear a shirt once in a while?!” 

“I’m at home.” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was scowling. Sometimes, you wondered if he had any other facial expressions besides those tinged in anger and insolence. “I don’t need to dress up.”

“You’re insufferable.” You peeled your hands away from your face to give him a mutinous glare. “I thought you made it clear you didn’t want to stay a single second here.” With me. 

Rin narrowed his teal eyes, his chest puffing with anger. “Huh? Why do you care?” 

Because you basically told me you didn’t like me yesterday. You bit your tongue before you could spill those incriminating words; they would have to send you to Guantanamo Bay to get that bit of information out of you. 

You would rather burn off your fingernails than admit to Itoshi Rin that you hated how he didn’t want to be your friend. This went against the laws of nature. Everyone in your life liked you; even if they found you ditzy and comically dense, you had people that genuinely cared for you. 

Unlike Rin. His bad manners and even worst temper got the better of you; made you think he hated you with his entire soul.

You stepped back and crossed your arms. “I don’t. I just thought you made it clear that you and I both can’t be friends.” 

Rin paused for a few short seconds and instead of apologising for what he said last night, his glare deepened. “Are you fucking expect me to say sorry? You started it. I was only being truthful.”

“You were being a dick.”

“A truthful one.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Look. In what world can you and I be friends? I think not. We can be civil, but I sure as hell do not want to be your friend.”

The people–pleaser inside of you gasped in offence; the hurt rearing its ugly head. 

“Fine. I didn’t want to be your friend, either. You’re too blunt and mean, I can see why you don’t have anyone in the first place.”

You hadn’t expected such simple words to touch a nerve. Rin’s temper flared and he growled—actually growled—grabbing your arm and walking back into the opposite wall. He pressed you to the cool surface and his even cooler eyes bored into your wide ones. 

“Don’t you ever fucking shut up?” he demanded, nostrils flaring. “All you do is fucking whine and whine. Why don’t you get drunk and die in a ditch or something? It would make both our lives way easier.”

Your shoulders fell, and you didn’t expect his harsh words to elicit such hurt in your soul. The fog of anger clouding his mind parted slightly to give him snatches of his self-consciousness back, and he realised a second too late that your eyes were glimmering with tears.

“Hey—”

You pushed him aside roughly, dashing at your eyes. The emptiness in your soul throbbed, missing the shape of her—a mother you had little memories of because like what Rin said, she got drunk and died before you could even walk.

“Y/N—” he reached for your wrist and you let your temper take over, the loud sound of your palm meeting his cheek echoing in the silence of this penthouse. His face snapped to the side, cheek throbbing. Did she just fucking hit me—?

Rin’s teal eyes were narrowed slits, his teeth bared, but when it dawned on him that you were sobbing, that famed temper he was known for suddenly ebbed away, like water drying under a scorching sun. Your eyes were red-rimmed, and your chest was heaving up and down violently, holding back your cresting emotions and tears. 

“Fuck you, Itoshi.” 

Your hoarse whisper surprisingly made him hurt more than your slap, and before he could reach for you, to tell you he didn’t mean those words, you stormed away from him, shoving your arms into your hoodie and slamming the door shut behind you.

Itoshi Rin was a man who cared little for anyone around him.

His whole life was centred around games and goals and rising above high enough so it was Sae’s turn to look up at him. 

And in this instance, he wondered if this unhealthy single-mindedness was the right thing to nurture when he couldn’t even find the right words to name the sinking pit he felt in the middle of his chest. 

The same one which echoed in the shape of your absence. 

tagging: @chronic-claire-universe @simpfully-heartbroken

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