#hes a bfg too

[exerzist]

loving when ppl write toshinori (all might) as smart. like the golden retriever personality is his, but works scarily like present mics DJ persona- we've seen toshi get serious, we've seen him break down,, and we know he'd put his life on the line for his kids- yet he still manages to put on his signature smile. He's been a hero for a little around 35 years,, he obviously knows how things are run. He knows police procedures off the back of his hand, he knows how to learn everything there is about a person in 30 seconds flat, he knows the tells of a disaster in progress, he has the hero mindset to a Tee. If the dorky personality helps villains not notice the cogs turning in his eyes, it's just a slight perk.

Edit: upon seeing the reblog by @rurounivash I've realised that yeah lowk he goofs out on some things, sometimes he does just airhead his way through the day because damn, you can't expect the man to be vigilant 24\7 BUT, he does apply his godforsaken iq to learning how to do other things, i.e, teaching his kids

[dirt-str1der]

I wonder who shes singing to

[mercif4l]

𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 — kmg

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kim mingyu

word count: 3.5k

summary: sometimes it's hard to say what you want. sometimes, mingyu is just being insufferably coy.

content warning: more smut, slight angst, boyfriend!mingyu, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex), discussions about contraception, dacryphilia(?), dom/sub dynamics, slight degradation, pet names, sub!mingyu is losing his mind

a/n: hugely inspired by @highvern who made my soul sparkle when i read the 'teach me' series and then had to get all my feelings out in a self-indulgent gyu fic. ty once again to @beomcoups and @wonuwoe for being my champions <3 and for your patience! hope this is even a little bit as special for you to read as it was for me to write ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Broad, brawny, strapping young idol, Kim Mingyu. The very image of a gym rat, filling every space he enters twice the size of everyone else; A true BFG. 

And a total mess beneath your gaze as you ride his fingers without rest, legs bucking you up every time he presses against your g-spot and sends stars flying up your body and out through your mouth. 

Mingyu has always admired (envied, resented, adored) your self control. It makes him feel like a horny loser for never lasting as long as you do, and eternally grateful that he can stay hard after cumming just to feel you palpitate around him with your quiet, quivering sighs, launching him into another orgasm even more devastating than the last. 

When you’d first got together and had the sex safety talk, you told him he could ‘just pull out’, and in that moment he’d felt relatively confident about his abilities. But then he’d felt you, and tasted you, and before you could even get your panties off, he was leaking more precum than felt humanly possible.

You’d agreed to take birth control to curb his crippling fear of coming inside unexpectedly. And for your own peace of mind. Which seemed easier settled than his, frighteningly resigned to the side effects that birth control might bring — a concern he wouldn’t let you neglect, encouraging you to attend regular check ups every other month. 

Eventually you told him that while it was endearing he cared so much, it could feel a little overbearing from time to time. It still took a boat load of convincing to get him on board with the pill. You’d said you knew the risks, and while it was unfair there was no male equivalent, you’d shown no abnormal reaction to the pill and were an adult; you knew well enough how to take care of yourself. How you cared a whole lot about your body, and his misled doting could border on condescension if he wasn’t careful. 

(He’d put on a brave face for your conversation, never wanting to make it about himself, then cried to his mom on the phone later that day about how selfish he’d been. She told him to get over it and to try being a woman.) 

Perhaps if he was a woman he’d be in less pain right now. Watching you wind down over a glass of wine like he wasn’t sulking up a fit, his cock so hard that it crooned against his boxers. 

Despite his size and laid-back demeanor, he’s always been a bit bashful. Blushing at the slightest pinch of attention and covering his face with his jersey over some good-natured teasing. It was too bad he’d made himself such an easy target over the years. Any attempt to become non-chalant was at odds with every preexisting relationship in his life and was imminently met with even more teasing. 

Still, no one makes him feel as embarrassed as you do. It’s like a sick cycle. You peek one second too long at his lips and his ears turn pink, making you grin, filling his chest with a familiar ache and making his dick purr.

“Excited, Gyu?” you’d asked him just an hour ago, sat squished together on the lounge loveseat. Your hand poised on his thigh as he tried not to salivate over your compliments. You’d just been doting on him over his latest interview, head heavy with giggles as you rolled around and gushed about your ‘gorgeous boyfriend’ . You’d been particularly tickled by the discussion of ‘Men in their 20s’, Mingyu’s input being as loathing as you’d expect. Once you’d had your fun imitating his exasperated response, you pet his hair like he was a well-trained dog and scratched under his chin for good measure. 

That’s where this particular spiral started. 

The bristle of your nails against the hollow of his jaw left him struggling not to pant. It hadn’t been two days since you’d last touched him, and already he was feeling a little lightheaded. This didn’t stop him from tucking his tail between his legs and pretending to be a good, placid, boy. Eyes all round and twinkling like a deer in headlights; mouth agape as he tries to say that dinner is in the fridge and he’d happily heat it up for you as soon as you’d—

Then, you’d raked those same hands over his neck. And like a never-before-touched-40-year-old-virgin, he let out a pornographic whimper, curling into you with legs spread just wide enough to display the stiff beneath his shorts.

“My puppy, what’s wrong?” 

Instead of answering, he purses his lips and takes a few short, constricted breaths. Closing his eyes as if he can will this whole situation away (or to a head) by pretending it doesn’t exist.

“Can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, Gyu.” 

It was his least practiced skill: just fucking saying what he wants. He’s always too caught up in how turned on you make him or how vulnerable he feels. How deeply he enjoys the way you look at him with the eyes of a predator, and how hot he gets at the thought of being your prey.

“Gyu. Slow down.” For a man with the body mass Mingyu possesses, he’s always had a lack of spatial awareness. Bumping into the kitchen island every other morning; bonking heads in the elevator when he tries to give you a forehead kiss; generally not noticing injuries until he’s flexing in the bathroom mirror and a large bruise has appeared where once there was nothing.

His sex drive was no exception. He grinds against the cotton of his trousers without a single thought, even now as you lay your hand heavy against his throat and mock him for it.

“Such a desperate little puppy, can’t even breathe, humping yourself like a bitch in heat.”

With his airways partially blocked and his eyes squeezed shut, this friction feels almost as good as your hand might. 

“Stop.” This time, the instruction is clear, the heel of your palm digging into his hip bone and forcing him to sit still. He trembles like an injured animal and you don’t hide your snort; the sound is like a bitter spirit left on his salivary glands and it only makes him more liquid in your arms.

“Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll help you, bug.”

“M’sorry, can’t…” 

“Gyu.” It’s a firm warning and still he bites his tongue in resistance:

“I— Fuck… ngh, can’t, I can’t—“

Working himself up over something as simple as wanting to be touched… Well, it makes you wonder if he enjoys being punished. Tears already trail down his temples, thick and heavy as they fall into his damp hair, and every time you lick at the salty water he bucks up into nothing again.

There’s only one way this is going to end. At this rate, with how you’re repeating his favorite nickname in the arch of his ear, the idea of playing nonchalant seems hilarious. How could he ever stay quiet or, god forbid, composed with you around?

It wasn’t always this way, mind you. Communication was a huge part of your relationship. Of course that included acknowledging anything that made you feel ashamed or unattractive. Physical, taboo, emotional: when one of you got shy, you were given a week of grace to iron things out, then you’d have to face the music and let the other in. It didn’t matter how. Actually, there were an infinite amount of ways to sort things out and you were both sticklers for likelihoods and probabilities.

But after six months, Mingyu still couldn’t verbalize his needs. The two ways he’d express himself were whimpering at inopportune moments or folding his legs extra tight until you got the idea. Initially, it was endearing; even after all this time, it’s still sweet and adorable (and a little bit of a turn-on). It sure gave you ample ground to assert your dominance over him. It also gave you a lot to tease him about after the fact. But in some ways, it suffocated you. In some ways, it made you feel gross for controlling the narrative. 

“Actually,” you reckon with a tone so disinterested he isn’t sure how to recognize it as your voice: “I don’t feel like this right now.” 

Then you cross your legs and shuffle across the couch, plucking your phone from the coffee table to retreat inside of it. You’re sure there was an abandoned webtoon chapter to keep you distracted. Anything to quell the bile rising in your throat. 

Before he has a moment to recognize how blue his balls are, Mingyu makes the most sorrowful sound you’ve ever heard. Your head whips around, and what you find is devastating: the big lug has his knees tucked to his chest with his hands squishing against his cheeks. His pearly teeth are gnashed together but barely visible behind his forearm as his shoulders shudder, up and down, up and down.

“Please, please, don’t stop… touching, me, need… Please don’t stop, want you— can you?” and when his begging ends in a whisper of your name, your resolve snaps. You slide onto the ground, hands weaseling between his knees as you look up at him through bleary eyes of your own. 

“Gyu?”

“no, no, I’m sorry, I know. Know I’m the worst — so stupid,”

While you expect him to react poorly, this was not the way you’d wanted it to go. The tears that leave his eyes aren’t pleasant or cathartic-they’re crushing. The weight of his sobs makes him look so so small, and his shoulders twitch at your slightest touch, and now you feel even sicker. But you hold it in, knowing that there’s no way he’ll calm down without a steady hand guiding him.

“Mingyu, breathe baby. Breathe. Let’s just try to breathe together.” 

It only takes a few rounds of counting in squares to wind him down, after which he wipes his tears roughly and clears his throat. 

“Sorry for—“ 

“It’s okay to cry. I’m sorry for overwhelming you. And stopping so suddenly.” A small point of contact between you remains at the apex of his ankle and the soft of your hand. It’s not enough but it’s the only thing that reminds him to breathe. 

“I know—know it’s okay to cry.” 

You snuffle a giggle at his pouty response; “I know you know it’s okay to cry. But sometimes we don’t feel that way, y’know.” 

God. You’re so stupidly smart. So patient with him. God, he’s in love with you. And he’s such a mess.

“Of course… Of course I want to say it,” he tries to avoid your gaze but the fingers now pressing on his calf won’t let him. 

“Want to tell you what I want. But I’m really.. I’m so scared. Scared and not really of you, even though it’s kind of hot when I am, but something about it feels… wrong?” 

You listen without interrupting him or egging him on, chuckling when it seems appropriate and nodding as he trips over his words in worry.

“Like I’m… being like, I dunno, I’m not being the man? Or… something.

His hesitation is filled with sniffles against the overpriced hoodie he’d purchased just a week before. He’ll curse himself out for that later, undoubtably. Good thing he has the knack for a good hand wash.

—But I want to… I wanna try. Can I try?” 

“Now?”

“Mm… want you now.” 

Hearing it from his mouth for the first time in so long sends a bright red flush all over you. Your head dips low as a coy grin replaces that wrinkle between your brows you’d been keeping warm. Mingyu settles his focus on your face to avoid any more distractions. The demure purse of your lips is more than enough to encourage him to continue. Even if he stutters in anticipation a bit along the way.

“So beautiful. I, I love your smile, makes me feel so warm and…weird? Good weird, just like I wanna kiss you all the time. And look at you smiling. And at the same time, smiling at me, and I love it when I feel your tongue on mine, fuck, when I feel your tongue at all” 

His words flow freely as you stretch your legs over his and settle in his lap. His hands move in even strokes down your sides and arms and thighs, gently cupping your face as he admires you. Well, it certainly seems like he’s getting the hang of it. 

“S’all I can think about when I get sweaty… So weird, but I get sweaty and I imagine you licking it off me, shit, look at how pretty you are, shit, shit,”

As he hears himself, he suddenly feels like he could wax poetic for hours (or ramble, whatever this was). If it meant making you look as pleased as you do right now, he’d happily make a living out of it. 

“Can I touch you? So beautiful, wanna feel ya…” The drawl of his accent gets thicker as he rambles on.

“You sure, puppy?” After all that emotional exhaustion it feels a bit strange to be so intimate. The last thing you want is for him to smother his feelings with sex. But then you see the conviction in his flared nostrils and set lips; the very face he makes when you’ve had a bad day and insist everything is fine. When all he ever wants is an excuse to shower you with his love. 

“Yes. F’you’ll let me?” And when he asks so nicely, who are you to deny him?

There’s a slight back and forth as he tries to unbutton your jeans as fast as possible and it all goes so quickly you don’t really register how awkward it is, wiggling out of them in his lap on the couch. But Mingyu’s athleticism never fails him, especially in moments like these. 

The foray over your sticky panties has him searching maniacally for some purchase beneath you. He rubs and pulls and taps until you’re canting into his knuckles sporadically. By the time he’s pulled them to the side and gathers your wetness in his grip, he might be the hardest he’s ever been. 

“God, gonna, wanna make you cum—can I please? Show you?” 

It’s your turn now to be silent, nodding profusely into his cheek as you nibble at his earlobe. There’s one sentiment you refuse to voice in this moment, as the pad of his thumb zeroes in on your clit and drags it in circles: that you’re cooked. You’ve never been this wet in your life, and if you had an ounce of self-awareness left in you, you’d shudder at the slick mess you’ve made. Or the blown out pupils lolling to the back of your head. Or the saliva that drools down your chin in excess and slings onto his. 

But Mingyu is no better: if you weren’t sitting atop him, a dangerous puddle of his own precum would be proudly on display. Somehow the thought turns him on even more. 

“Could come like this, in my pants, nnghh, but I wanna, wanna do it while you ride my fingers, can you…” 

“Fuck! Gyu, just gimme—“ The sentence dies before its finish as he takes your excited exclamation and sprints. The longest of his four fingers push into your hole to fit snugly against your walls, pulsing against him like they’re welcoming him home. 

“Love feeling you on me, my fingers, my—nngh, my cock, made for me, made for you” It comes out a sadistic whine while he bullies them into you with that same doe eyed look.

“Got so much to do, wanna do, wanna make—“

“Gyu, s’good. So good. All mine.”

“Yours. All yours, f’you’ll have me? Have me?”

The words circulate from your empty head straight to your core and you swear, you could cry. He keeps pleading for you to have him and take him and the fever of it all overwhelms you.

In the fissure between the pit of your stomach and where all this untenable excitement likes to linger, something weird begins to coil. Heating so rapidly that you have no time to warn him of it. One moment you’re there, and then next, you’re not; You’re somewhere where there’s color as far as the eye can see, and all you can feel is bliss. Once you do manage to open your eyes, you notice the pool of liquid that now sticks his tank top and pants to his lower belly and thighs. 

Well, shit. You just squirted. And in record time, Mingyu might add. Was this all he had to do to get you riled up? Just divulge his every wet dream and watch you crumble beneath (or atop) him?  

You don’t even double take his soaked white shirt, now stuck to his abdomen with slick, or the dampened the seat of his pants that leave very little to the imagination. You’re wasted with the whiplash of everything that has just happened and truthfully, you couldn’t care less. 

The only thing that brings reality back to your conscience is the continuing buck of his hips.

“My baby, did so good. You wanna cum?” 

“Yes!” He’s squeaking at this point, a pile of incoherent pet names and wet moans. He could probably come in his pants if you hadn’t suggested otherwise, just happy to be in close proximity to you like this: Soaking his clothes and skin and all sweaty all over him. 

Mingyu is so distracted by the image that he barely notices the sticky feelings of his trousers being pulled off. 

“Hands are shaking, m’sorry, your hands—“ 

“I know Gyu. It’s okay.”

There’s no space for him to hold you til you’re steady—his primary concern—with your entrance fluttering over him, still reeling from your orgasm. An ache he didn’t even realize was there is relieved the moment you stretch around him. Welcoming him home. He really could die happy like this: admiring the curve of your chin from below and so, so warm. The image of you, anchoring yourself on his shoulders and hips settled between his, is one he’ll be haunted by forever. 

“Go.” You say it with the last of your energy and a firm bite to his neck. 

He doesn’t need any further instruction; he’s so fucking glad you’ll still tell him what to do. 

The rhythm he sets is animalistic. Heaving and whining and fucking up into you with more force than you’d expected him to be capable of. Something feral takes over your boyfriend and you wish you had the energy to watch it. Maybe you’ll just have to do this all again with a camera filming. God, that would drive him absolutely insane.

With the pace and how worked up he’s become, it’s no surprise when he pulls out a few minutes later to come. Strong arms yank you down and suddenly you’re sat on top of his cock, grinding it against his stomach with his direction.

“Coming, I’m, nnngh fuck!” Mingyu’s voice rises about two octaves as he finishes in white all over his belly. It spurts out long enough for you to feel the aftershocks. In his shivering thighs, in his clenched abs, and the overstimulated cries that catch in his throat.

It may take a long time to recover, but you’re grateful for the break. When Mingyu stands from the couch with you in his arms, you already know he’s taking you to the shower. He strips you as carefully as he can muster and grimaces at the messes made of you both in the harsh overhead light. 

“You shower first.” It’s the first thing you’ve said in a while and he seems bewildered; not just by your wary voice, but by the idea of taking care of himself before taking care of you. So cute, you think. But you refuse to let up. You take a towel from the heated rack and gather all of your clothes in it, holding the sack out as if to say ‘add it to the pile’. Once he’s naked you shove him gently towards the running water and drag yourself out to the laundry room. It only takes a few seconds before you hear those long feet shuffling behind you. 

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll be right back.” 

A silence lingers and you know full well he hasn’t turned back just yet. Alright. You’ll coax him through this part. 

“I’ll shower with you. Just make sure it’s warm for me?” He giggles at that. All it takes is making something a task for Mingyu to thrust himself into it, full force. The retreating footfall that follows is more than enough to make you smile. And laugh, just a bit. 

“Thank you, Gyu.” 

“Anything for you.”

penned by rowan. in reference to this interview among other things.

[holylulusworld]

BFG (1)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language

BFG masterlist

“Fuck me, that guy could break me into two halves,” you sigh dreamily as the new face in town steps into the diner. “What a man.”

You lick your lips. He’s tall, and you mean tall when you say it. If anyone wants you to guess, you’d say he’s at least 6’5.

“Y/N, what was the price of the peach pie again?” The new waitress asks. She’s pretty and friendly but her memory is not the best.

Maybe she just smokes too much weed. You don’t blame her. This sleepy little town does this to you. If you don’t take drugs or drink, you spend the time dreaming of a different life.

You sigh again, this time out of frustration because you must take your eye off the thick hottie and turn your attention toward Sally Ann, the new waitress.

“It’s…” You tell her the price while dipping your head to glance at the newbie's ass when he passes the counter by. “Damn him, he’s thick too. What do you weigh, baby? Two hundred and fifty pounds?”

“Miss,” Sally Ann almost whimpers when this mountain of a man asks her about the peach pie. She looks a little lost, and you gladly jump in to turn his attention toward you.

“You can come over here,” you tap the counter. “This spot looks like you’ll fit in.” You grin as he chuckles at your bad joke about his size. “The seat is extra-large. One of our regulars needed a little extra space and cushion.”

“I guess he was tall too,” He asks while plopping down on the larger seat. The seat creaks under his weight and you hope he didn’t break it. Even though, you wouldn’t mind if he tries to break you.

“In size, not height,” you shrug. “That’s what I heard. This was before my time, and he died some years ago. This means, the seat is all yours now, sweetie.”

“Sweetie,” his laughter is deep and rich as he tries to not blush at your flirty banter. “No one ever called me sweet.”

“What a shame,” you pat his hand. Fuck. It looks like his hand is as big as one of your plates. “So, tell me,” you lean closer to whisper, “are you a BFG or are you a bad guy.”

“BFG?” He cocks his head. “Oh…” He chuckles again. “I’m friendly, don’t worry. I only get mad if you want to…”

“Fuck with you?” You cockily reply and mirror his smirk. “Hmm…I don’t think you could handle me, sweetie. I’m too much of a woman for most of the guys in town.”

His eyes scan your body at your words. He hums and drops his eyes to your ass. “I can handle any situation.” His face remains stoic, but his eyes give his dirty thoughts away. “Can I have a slice of the peach pie, ma’am?”

“Only if you never call me ma’am again,” you point a manicured finger at the giant. “People called my granny ma’am.”

“You don’t look like a granny to me,” he waves his huge hand to brush your concern off. “More like you are stranded in a place you don’t belong.” Ah, he tries to analyze you while checking your ass and tits out. “You’re not here for long.”

“Just like you,” you wink at him. “I’ll get you your pie now, and you better eat it up. It’s the best in town.”

“I bet he can break a bone only by grabbing you too hard,” Sally Ann watches the newbie eat his pie. “I wouldn’t want him to touch me. He looks like a brute.”

“No, sweetie,” you let your eyes wander from his broad shoulders, down to his wide back and further to his perfect ass, “he’s the kind of guy knowing how to handle a woman. I don’t think he underestimates his strength. The only problem is, he’s too big for my bed.”

“What?” Sally Ann squeaks. “Don’t tell me you want to take him home.”

“I’d take him anywhere he wants to go,” you nonchalantly admit. “It’s been ages since a real man tried to put his hands on me. This man over there has hands as big as our plates. He knows how to touch a woman.”

You bite your lower lip when he dips his head to look at you. He smirks and lifts the now empty plate. “Can I have another one?”

God, how you love a man who can eat. “Sure, sweetie,” you make your way toward him, swaying your hips on purpose. He glances at Sally Ann who looks a little scared. “How do you like your pie? Do you want some whipped cream too?”

He shrugs. “I’m not picky.”

“You can be picky,” you wink at him. “I won’t let you leave this town hungry and unsatisfied.”

His eyes darken at your words. “What can you recommend? What’s your specialty?”

“I asked you first,” you hold out your hand. “I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Reacher,” he gruffly replies, but his hand takes yours. It’s huge in contrast to your hand, but warm and surprisingly gentle. “I’m here for…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” You hastily say. “I know you are not the kind of man answering questions. If you promise me to not cause trouble at the diner, you are always welcome here.”

“I can’t promise to not cause trouble but,” he squeezes your hand, “I promise that I’ll try not to cause trouble at your diner.”

“You know that this is my diner? How?”

“Sally Ann over there and the other waitresses always look at you for confirmation. The guests show more respect to you, and you don’t keep the tips. You put the money into the tip jar the waitresses share at the end of their shift.”

“You’re quite observant, Reacher.”

“I assume you took over the diner from your,” he searches your face. “Grandmother not so long ago. You still try to figure things out, but your pie tastes great.”

“She died six months ago. Granny left me her house, and the diner,” you sigh, and drop your gaze. “I left my well-paid job, and life behind. She was always good to me, and I didn’t bring it over me to sell the diner.”

“What was your job?” You’ve got the feeling the conversation turned out to be an interrogation.

“Aw, sweetie,” you wink at him, “if you want to know more about me, buy me dinner first.”

He watches you walk away, wondering if you have anything to do with the crime he investigates. Reacher shakes his head. No. You don’t look like a killer. And he doesn’t think for one second that you can break a guy’s neck.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Sally Ann asks. She’s still intimidated by Reacher’s size or rather his cheer presence at the diner.

“Where’s Y/N?” He cocks his head to look for you.

“I don’t know. She looked pissed and went to the back entrance.”

“I-“ he gets his wallet out to throw money onto the counter. Reacher follows you out of the back entrace, searching for you.

“Whoa, watch your step,” you push your hands against his firm chest to stop him from running the poor dog over. “Hey, that’s his spot. You are not allowed to leave through this entrance.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. He's relieved that you are not on the run, because you are the killer. “I was looking for you. I didn’t want to piss you off asking about your job.”

“Huh? I didn’t leave because you asked me about my job,” you point out. “I saw that bastard from across the street chase this poor guy away. He was only looking for food.”

“Someone tried to hurt the dog?” He squares his jaw. “Who? What did they do?”

You crouch down to add water to the feeding bowl. “The owner of the fancy new restaurant across the street. He always shoos away the kids and pets. I don’t like that man.”

“Restaurant across the street. Got it,” he looks like he makes a mental note. “Is that little boy your dog?”

“He only comes around to get free food,” you smile as the stray feasts on the food you bought for him. “I wanted to take him home, but I guess he likes his freedom. He checks in once in a while to let me know he’s still alive.”

“A stray,” Reacher watches you pat the dog. “Maybe he’s scared of settling down. Someone must’ve chased him away before.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully and pat the dog’s head. “I only want to protect him. If he runs around town the guy from across the street will hurt him.”

“He won’t.” You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder. “I got a few things to take care of in town. Do you know a cheap motel?”

“I got a spare room I rent out,” you hastily say. “I mean, you could have it. It has got a bathroom too. You can use the kitchen if you clean it afterward. If you help me repair the sink, you can have it for free.”

He nods and holds out his hand to help you up. “I can’t tell you when I’ll be around.”

“Don’t worry,” you grab his hand to write your address on his hand. “You can come around anytime.” His eyes widen when you put a key in his hand next.

“You trust me enough to hand me a key to your home?” He looks surprised. “You’re a little careless.”

“Believe me,” you pat his chest, “I’m not careless, nor dumb. I know exactly who I let inside my house.”

Reacher quirks a brow at your words but doesn’t ask what you mean. You turn your attention back toward the dog, and he’s got work to do.

He will start with the restaurant owner across the street.

Part 2

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[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Stay Awhile & Listen

Elks Chapter 5 Version 2.0

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Joel's back from patrol and he has a surprise for you. Chapter Warnings: an abundance of softness, joel has feelings and actually talks about them!, smut, oral (m & f receiving), cum swallowing, a lot of feelings and then a lot of filth, couch shenanigans, they're falling hard for each other folks. Words: 4,700 Headers courtesy of @saradika-graphics.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist “See The Changes” by Crosby, Stills & Nash. 

Your week is a slow, arduous march towards Saturday and Joel’s return. You’ve never paid much attention to the passage of time when patrollers are gone–at least, not until Joel. You miss him. 

Monday, you stay up too late playing the guitar Joel fixed for you. You wonder how far he is from Jackson.  Tuesday, you help in the gardens, watering, pruning, and harvesting fruits and vegetables until the sky turns dark. You wonder if he has enough food. Wednesday, you sketch a young elk surrounded by bluebells on a salvaged canvas. You wonder if he’s okay and safe. Thursday, you join your friends at the Bison, but you find yourself staring longingly at the table where you first saw Joel. The whiskey doesn’t taste nearly as good as it does when you’re at home drinking it with him. You wonder if he has a flask and if he’s thinking the same thing. Friday, you toss and turn embarrassed by how eager you are to see him again. You wonder if he misses you too.

The library has been slow today, the residents are busier during the summer months, you relish the slow time, allowing you to organize and catalog your books. 

You’re sitting cross legged on the floor of your classroom, rearranging a bookshelf when heavy bootsteps entering your room catch your attention. 

You turn, eyes widening when you see Joel, he’s wearing the same green plaid shirt you first saw him in all those months ago.

“Joel,” you gasp, a large grin lighting your face. “Hi.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets, his voice even more gravelly than usual. He looks tired, more worn from the days out on patrol. You admire him so much for what he does to keep everyone safe. 

You blink up at him, suddenly reminded of how big he is. He reaches down, offering his hand, and you take it, helping him pull you up.

His arms wrap around you in a hug that tells you he missed you just as much as you missed him. 

“Sorry, I’m filthy–haven’t even been home yet,” he murmurs against your hair. 

“You’re fine. You–I– missed you,” you sigh, inhaling the scent of him, he smells of Joel with a tinge of sweat and dirt. God, he smells good. 

He chuckles softly. “I missed you too.” 

You tilt your head up, failing at trying to hide your smile of excitement. He gazes down to your lips, slowly lowering his lips to meet yours, kissing you tenderly. God, how you missed him. His hands pull you closer, your hands grasp at his flannel-covered biceps. You sigh against his lips as his tongue licks against yours. 

The clang of the schoolhouse doors interrupt your kiss. Laughter echoes through the halls as a child’s voice grows louder. Joel steps back with a mischievous smirk. 

“I finished the book!” Claire, the daughter of your friends Robin and Peter, bursts into the room, holding up a well-loved copy of James And The Giant Peach. “I loved it!”

“Oh, that’s great news! I knew you would kiddo,” you say, walking over to high-five her. You greet Robin with a nod and a smile, she does a double-take when she spots Joel standing in the classroom. 

“Yeah! It was soooo good!” Claire says excitedly. “What can I read next?” 

You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Well, hmm. If you liked that one so much, how about you try another Roald Dahl?” You pull a paperback off the shelf with a friendly looking old giant on the cover. “The BFG, it’s just as fantastical and fun as James.”

Joel watches you from the same spot, you feel his eyes on you the whole time. 

“It sounds so good!” Claire says, happily thumbing through the pages as you fill out the check out card. “Thank you!” 

“You’re welcome. Hope you like it kiddo,” you say. 

“Come on, let’s get home so you can start on your book,” Robin says, gently taking Claire’s hand. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime,” you smile. 

Joel stands silently, nodding a goodbye at Robin as they turn and leave. 

“I should head out. I haven’t had a shower since Monday, and I need to go pick up something from Tommy and Maria’s. Do you still want to come over tonight?” The way he looks at you, hope rounding his brown eyes as he waits for your answer, makes your heart thud against your chest. 

“Y-yes,” you smile. “Of course.”

“Great,” he says,  cupping your chin and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Come over when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

You’ve never been outside the gates of Jackson since your arrival. You’ve lived with barriers longer than without them, so why would you ever sign yourself up to see what lies beyond the iron and wood confines? You know how little you understand about surviving out there—less, even, than your own students. You’re sheltered, and you’ve never doubted that. You’re okay with it. Joel? Not so much.

“You’ve never wanted to leave?” he asks, sitting beside you on his couch, his arm casually draped around your shoulders, the other hand holding a cup of coffee as he relaxes after dinner.

“Not really,” you reply, setting your empty cup on the table, “I’ve really had no reason, and it was never asked of me. I’m sure it’s really dumb of me.”

“Not dumb, just not smar–“

“Just say dumb, Joel,” you tease, turning toward him with a grin.

“Never call you dumb.” His hand reaches up, cradling your cheek gently. “I just think you should know the basics of how the world works outside here. Just in case there’s a problem. I don’t like the idea of you being unprepared. Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“I do,” you say, resting your head against his chest. “They put us through a rudimentary training program here when I first got here. I know how to defend myself.”

“Rudimentary?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, it means basic.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’re so smart, glad there’s people like you still around.”

“Well,” you say, tilting your head up to look at him, “you just spent almost a week in the wilderness protecting us and scavenging for supplies. I’m glad there are people like you.”

He hums, with a thoughtful look on his face. “Speaking of supplies, I’ve got something for you. S’why I wanted you to come over tonight. Close your eyes and don’t open them until I tell you, okay?”

“Is it good, Joel?” you ask, feeling the excitement build inside.

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “Of course it’s good. Go on, now do what I said.”

You close your eyes, placing your hands over them for extra measure. You hear him grunt softly as he stands, then feel his hand gently tip your chin up as he steals another quick kiss before walking away.

You feel giddy as you hear him walk away, you try to ascertain where he’s headed over the soft music playing, hearing his footsteps bound up the stairs. You don’t dare peek.

“Eyes still closed?” Joel shouts from upstairs.

“Yes!” you yell back, your voice sparking with excitement.

“Alright, comin’ down,” he says, his heavy footsteps thudding down the steps. “Don’t peek.”

“I’m not. Promise.”

You rock back and forth on the edge of the couch, feeling nervous excitement flutter throughout your body as you hear Joel take a seat on the coffee table across from you. You haven’t felt this type of excited nervousness in years. 

“You can open ‘em,” he says softly. 

You open your eyes, first focusing on Joel, sitting there with a shy, half-smile on his face. A small gray box in his lap catches the corner of your eyes. Your heart skips a beat when you realize what it is. 

“How in the world…? Joel! How did you find this?” your voice peaks with elation as you snatch the small stereo from his lap.

“Traded Tommy for it. He ’n Maria need a crib, so I just signed myself up to furnish their kid’s room in exchange.” 

“You didn’t have to do that! I don’t want to take their stereo. I can’t do that to them,” you reluctantly lift the stereo towards him, feeling guilty. 

“They’ve still got a record player and besides, they were happy to help you out once I told Tommy it was for you,” he says, gently pushing the stereo back into your lap. “It’s small, but it’ll do until we can find you something better.” 

You push down on the CD door and watch it pop open, you’re amazed the hinges still work. You had something like this back in middle school. It was blue, and covered it in butterfly and smiley face stickers. 

“Joel, this is… wow,” you say, tears welling in your eyes at his thoughtfulness. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me. You just fixed my guitar last week, and now this?” You hastily wipe a rogue tear that escapes away. “I can’t thank you enough, this is so sweet.”

“No need for tears, it was nothing,” he wipes a tear from your cheek. “Really sweetheart, I wanted to do this for you.” 

He takes the stereo from your lap, setting it down on the table beside him. “I still feel like I owe you so much for what you did in there,” he nods towards his studio. “For years I never believed beauty could exist in this world. People like you… they don’t usually survive. And then one day, I walk into my home and see you there with Ellie. I finally meet the teacher she wouldn’t stop talking about.” His voice softens, as he gazes into your eyes. “You were so beautiful, ’n when you left, you forgot your CD. I listened to it, selfishly, because I wanted to know more about you.”

His words wrap you in a feeling you’ve never felt before. You’re speechless, the moment and Joel’s revelation far too tender to break with words. 

“All the songs on there I’d never heard, pretty new things you left that I got to hear. Then, you fall ’n I bring you in here, you tell me you painted that elk picture… all I could think about was how beautiful you were, inside and out. Just like your painting–hell–just like everything you do. Your classroom, how pretty it is, how nice you made it for your kids, how you painted the flowers everywhere.” His voice drops, low and warm as he spills his heart into your accepting hands. “After all these years of living the way I did, I needed you to bring something like that into my life. Every time you’re not around, I can’t wait to see you again. Damn near lost my mind on patrol because of how much I missed you.“ 

He leans closer, his calloused palm tenderly cradles your face, his thumb tracing circles across your chin. “I keep on thinking about that enigma word you called me.. but you’re the enigma for me. You still want to make this world better… and you do, sweetheart. I can’t believe you’re here, so caring, so soft, so smart, ’n so beautiful. I like when you’re near me, I like how you make me feel new after all this time.” 

Your chest tightens and blooms all at once, warmth spreads across your body. Joel’s always a man of few words, but the way he confesses his feelings, the way his voice deepens as he tells you how he feels, it makes you want him even more.

“Joel,” you whisper. “I like being near you too.” You can’t think of anything else to say.

His face softens, relief and affection behind his gaze. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he leans forward and kisses you.

Your hands grab his solid arms. He’s so big and strong, yet his skin is always so soft and cushioned against your touch. 

His tongue parts your lips, moving languidly as he explores your mouth. You taste the remnants of coffee left over on his tongue. The way his mouth fits against yours after his words of adoration makes you deepen the kiss grasping his arms tighter.

You need Joel, you’ve thought about last Saturday all week, tensity radiating through your body whenever you’d think about the feeling of your body pressed against his. Every night since, lying alone in bed, you’ve been tempted to reach your hand between your legs and soothe the want, but you refused yourself. You dedicated a whole page in your sketchbook to drawing his plush lips, and now they’re back on you. 

You break away from the kiss, your breath ragged as you rest your forehead against his, your hands still clutching his arms. “I’ve been thinking about you… every night,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, your lips brushing his as you speak.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been thinkin’ about you too,” he rasps.

“I just… I keep thinking about how little time it’s been.” You nervously stammer. “Everything is happening so fast, and I like it, but… I don’t know. Is it okay?”

He rubs your knees as he thoughtfully muses. “It’s okay with me, if it’s okay with you. Time isn’t the same as it was, you take what you can get with the time you’ve got.”

You nod in agreement as goosebumps prickle along your legs from his touch. 

“You were in here only a few weeks ago when you fell,” Joel looks down at your knees. “Still can see some of the marks left from the rocks.” His fingers press into your skin firmer, like he’s trying to contain himself. “You’ve been on my mind since then… sometimes you’re all I can think about. I know it hasn’t been long, but…” His hands slide up to your thighs. “I want you, ‘n I really hate wasting time.”

His lips crash against yours. He’s never kissed you like this– so tender yet so intense. His hands knead your thighs, with slow, deliberate care, in the same way he touched your knees. His tongue brushes against yours, pulling a moan from your throat. His touch is firm with tensity and yet he caresses you gently. Your arms wrap around his neck as you lift yourself off the couch. Your knees knock against the table as you straddle his thick thighs and sit on Joel’s lap, never breaking the kiss. 

Two weeks, it’s only been two weeks. Two weeks of longing glances, shared stories over meals, quiet understandings, and feelings blooming like the flowers that bloom all around Jackson. You’ve wanted this since the moment you first saw him, and the desire only grew once he was no longer a handsome stranger. Now, you’ve reached an ignition point, and Joel is right there with you, holding the match. 

His hands grab your hips, you can feel him against you, his pants tenting against your core.

Denim rubs against denim as you grind down on Joel’s lap. His mouth moves down your jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck down to your collarbone. He explores you like he’s mapped his journey in his head. 

You lean your head back, moaning softly when his hands slide up your torso, cupping your breasts. He kisses his way back up your neck, you reach for his jaw, feeling the bristle of his beard against your palms. His eyes meet yours, darkening with desire. 

“Joel…” you breathe out, your voice trembling.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“I—I want you.”

“Heh,” a low chuckle rumbles as his forehead rests against yours. “I want you too, baby.”

Baby. A new name, nobody has ever called you baby. Your lips part with a soft moan. He catches it with his kiss, his lips tugging on your bottom lip.  

His hands grip your hips, pulling you down harder against him as you grind, trying to soothe the ache between your legs. 

His hand slips beneath your shirt, a calloused hand palms at the soft skin of your breasts. You haven’t been touched by anybody in over a year, but this? You’ve never been touched like this ever. Other men pale in comparison to Joel Miller. 

Your shirt feels too hot against your skin, you grab the hem of it and pull it over your head. He leans back slightly, his eyes devouring your half naked body. He lets out a low, rumbled curse as you sit bare chested on top of him. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “Smell so sweet.” 

His mouth trails lower and buries his head between your breasts, thumbs stroking against your nipples as they harden under his touch. His mouth finds your breast, plush lips sealing over your nipple, your back arches when he sucks it farther in. A needy whine escapes your lips at the sensation, as you grab his shoulders. The want in you begins sparking even hotter at his touch. 

“Good baby?” he asks, his voice muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your breast. Baby again.

“Y-Yes, want your shirt off,” you gasp out. “Want to feel your skin.” 

He pulls back just enough and straightens, lifting his faded black shirt up and off, tossing it behind you onto the couch. 

Your hands move instinctively, feeling the broad expanse of his chest. He’s so warm, you feel the raised skin of the small scars scattered across his body, reminding you of the cruelty this man who holds you gently has experienced. A smattering of hair across his chest leads a trail down his belly to his jeans. Your hands follow the path, fingers lingering at the waistband. His breath hitches as your hands move lower, your fingers unbutton and unzip his jeans.

“Couch, let’s move,” Joel hisses out. “Here, get up."

You rise on shaky legs. He stays seated on the edge of his coffee table, his hands holding your hips drawing you closer to plant a kiss on your stomach. 

“Want to see all of you first,” he says, voice thick with longing. “Been thinking ‘bout this after that first day you were on my couch.” 

Your cunt clenches at his words, you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, and he’s barely even touched you. 

Joel unbuttons and unzips your shorts, glancing up at you for reassurance. You nod, giving him a small smile that he returns. He pushes your shorts and underwear down, leaving you bare and standing in the middle of his living room. Dark brown eyes roam over your body fully on display for him, brows furrowed in concentration as if he’s trying to memorize every mole, curve, scar, and mark on you.

“Can’t get over how pretty you are,” he breathes out, standing up from the coffee table. He leans forward, taking your chin in his hand and places a kiss on your lips. “Now, sit on the couch for me baby.” 

You slowly lower yourself onto the cushions, pushing your legs together to try to quell the ache in between them.

He stands, his large body towering over you, jeans slung low on his hips, his cock pressing rigidly against the denim. He bends down to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart, exposing all of you to him. 

You can feel his breathing accelerate against you as his fingers glide over your folds, testing your response. You moan into his mouth as he dips a finger in and traces a line from your clit to your entrance and back.

You’ve imagined him doing this to you back when he was just a crush, just a handsome stranger, your enigma. You never imagined how thick his finger would be, how gentle his touch would feel, how his teeth would gently nibble against your bottom lip. 

“Christ. You’re so tight and it’s just one finger baby,” Joel says, voice low and whispered as he looks down. “Can I taste you?"

You have no words, you grunt a yes as he lowers himself on the floor and pulls you forward, spreading your legs wider. You’re not even shy, being on full display like this, legs stretched open to expose your soaked cunt. You want him to see all of you, it’s all you’ve ever wished for since that first day you saw his handsome face.

He leans forward, nuzzling his nose against your core. His low groan vibrates against you when his tongue licks its way up and down the shape of you.

His dark brown eyes gaze into yours when he looks up from in between your legs. You can’t stop staring at him, almost in disbelief that Joel Miller’s tongue is swirling gentle circles around your clit while the lines between his eyebrows are set in determination, wanting to make you feel good.

Your hips begin to cant against his mouth. And when he adds a second finger, slowly pumping and stretching you, your fingers run through his hair, softly combing the waves as his fingers and tongue devastates you.

He’s proven to you numerous times how much he cares for you, but this? This is the ultimate way. This is the care you’ve always wanted. 

It’s all so overwhelming. What the two of you are doing here in his living room, the build up over the past couple of weeks, the crush you’ve harbored for months, now culminating here on this very couch. The same couch where he once touched you so tenderly while he bandaged your knee. Now those same hands roam your body and grips your thigh, holding it wide open as he devours you. 

Your orgasm climbs within you with each lick against your swollen clit, each rub of his beard against your sensitive folds, each twist of his fingers inside you. You’re close, so fucking close, and when Joel moans against you, your pussy clenches as it floods with your orgasm. He pulls his fingers out, his tongue licking down to drink you in, tenderly lapping up your wetness, like he’s savoring you and trying to stretch out the time he has between your legs. You moan his name as he leaves a kiss on your clit before pulling away, his mouth and chin glistening. 

Your body tremors through the aftershock of your orgasm, legs still spread wide, mouth held agape as you pant for air. His hands rub up and down your legs, watching you in awe.  

“Everything about you is too sweet,” he says with a shake of his head as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still can’t believe you’re real."

He leaves a kiss against your knee before bracing his hands on the couch, anchoring himself to stand. He winces as he rises and stretches his back out with a groan. 

“You okay?” you ask, leaning back against the couch, noticing how his cock still lays hard underneath his jeans.

“Yeah, just a bad back… probably shouldn’t have been on the floor for that long,” he sees you grimace in guilt, “but it was well worth it.” 

He settles on the couch next to you with a huff, pulling you into him, pressing you into his bare chest against yours. 

“What about…” your hand runs up and down his thigh. 

“Mm?” Joel kisses the top of your head. 

“What about me… doing the same for you?” your hand moves to grip his bulge. “I want to taste you too.”

He groans against your hair. “Yeah?” his voice tinges with awe. “Not gonna argue with that sweetheart.”

You quickly rise from the couch, your body thrumming at the thought of having him in your mouth. Now you can show him how much you’ve thought about this moment.

“You just might be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen baby,” he whispers in awe as you stand between his legs. “S’not gonna take me long.”

Accepting his sweet words, you kneel down and tug at his jeans and briefs revealing his cock. It’s so large, just like his focus on you, just like the tension in the room, just like the orgasm he just gave you. 

Your hand rests against his thigh, rubbing back and forth across the soft hair. When your other hand wraps around his thick shaft, your eyes follow the gulp of air he swallows travel down his neck. His skin is so soft here, so warm, you can’t wait to feel him inside your mouth. You slowly pump your fist down his length while lowering yourself to the floor.

God, he’s gorgeous. His cock twitches in your hand as you hold it, wetting your lips, you bend forward and lick the drop of precum that’s leaked the tip. You moan at the taste. Salt, sweat… Joel. He lets a low curse growl out of his mouth when you take him deeper into your mouth. He stretches your lips, opens your throat, and fills your mouth fully. 

“S’good,” he croaks, his hand brushing a piece of hair away from your forehead. “So pretty.”

He groans when you swirl your tongue along his wide tip, leaving a kiss against it as Joel looks down at you with lust filled eyes of adoration. 

He feels so good in your mouth, velvety and rigid, you begin to bob your head down his length, taking him to the back of your throat. The thought of how much his big cock will fill your cunt sends a flutter through your body. 

He tangles his hand in your hair, lightly tugging and setting a pace as you suck him. 

“S’good baby, close— m’close,” he groans, his hips rising and falling to meet your movements.

You nod and hum in agreement hollowing your cheeks and sucking harder. 

His hips pull up, your name deeply hums out of his mouth as he cums down your throat. You swallow every drop, reveling in the taste of him now being a part of you. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, shaking his head, as he pulls you into his lap, his hands wrapping around your waist. “S’amazing.” 

You giggle, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You still can’t quite believe your luck to know and feel Joel the way you do now.

“So, about the CD player,” Joel’s voice breaks through the silence, “I’ve decided it comes with a condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you come with me outside of Jackson for a day.”

“Joel…” 

It’s too late for ultimatums, the only reason you haven’t gotten off his couch and walked home is you’re too comfortable laying against his body that’s currently only clad in his underwear while all you wear is his t-shirt.

“It’s important, it doesn’t have to be now, but soon,” he continues, his tone serious, like he’s overly concerned about your safety and wellbeing. “Please do it for me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what’s out there…”

“And I do,” he reassures. “I’ll keep you safe, it doesn’t have to be long… just long enough so if you ever do have to leave… it won’t be your first time out in years,” he urges. “Get your bearings ’n everything.” 

“You think I’ll be okay out there?”

“I wouldn’t ask of it if I didn’t think you’d be okay.”

You nod softly. “I guess it makes sense.”

“S’pose so. Doesn’t have to be now but just, when the time is right, I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Okay… if it means I get to keep the CD player.”

He tightens his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “You get to keep the CD player darlin’.”

Neither of you moves for the rest of the night, falling asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. You don’t leave until morning.

Stay Awhile & Listen - Joel's Version

[book--brackets]

The BFG by Roald Dahl (1982)

Captured by a giant! The BFG is no ordinary bone-crunching giant. He is far too nice and jumbly. It's lucky for Sophie that he is. Had she been carried off in the middle of the night by the Bloodbottler, the Fleshlumpeater, the Bonecruncher, or any of the other giants-rather than the BFG-she would have soon become breakfast. 

When Sophie hears that they are flush-bunking off in England to swollomp a few nice little chiddlers, she decides she must stop them once and for all. And the BFG is going to help her!

Graceling Realm by Kristen Cashore (2008-2022)

Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, who is smart and beautiful and lives in the Seven Kingdoms where selected people are born with a Grace, a special talent that can be anything at all. Katsa's Grace is killing. As the king's niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his brutal enforcer. Until the day she meets Prince Po, who is Graced with combat skills, and Katsa's life begins to change. She never expects to become Po's friend. She never expects to learn a new truth about her own Grace--or about a terrible secret that lies hidden far away . . . a secret that could destroy all seven kingdoms with words alone.

Oz by L. Frank Baum (1900-1920)

Join Dorothy and her little dog Toto on the yellow brick road, as they set off to explore the magical Land of Oz. Can they find the Wizard, defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, and return to Kansas?

Stardust by Neil Gaiman (1997)

Catch a fallen star . . .

Tristran Thorn promised to bring back a fallen star. So he sets out on a journey to fulfill the request of his beloved, the hauntingly beautiful Victoria Forester--and stumbles into the enchanted realm that lies beyond the wall of his English country town. Rich with adventure and magic, Stardust is one of master storyteller Neil Gaiman's most beloved tales, and the inspiration for the hit movie.

Inkworld by Cornelia Funke (2003-2023)

One cruel night, Meggie's father reads aloud from a book called INKHEART-- and an evil ruler escapes the boundaries of fiction and lands in their living room. Suddenly, Meggie is smack in the middle of the kind of adventure she has only read about in books. Meggie must learn to harness the magic that has conjured this nightmare. For only she can change the course of the story that has changed her life forever. 

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine (1997)

At birth, Ella is inadvertently cursed by an imprudent young fairy named Lucinda, who bestows on her the "gift" of obedience. Anything anyone tells her to do, Ella must obey. Another girl might have been cowed by this affliction, but not feisty Ella: "Instead of making me docile, Lucinda's curse made a rebel of me. Or perhaps I was that way naturally." When her beloved mother dies, leaving her in the care of a mostly absent and avaricious father, and later, a loathsome stepmother and two treacherous stepsisters, Ella's life and well-being seem to be in grave peril. But her intelligence and saucy nature keep her in good stead as she sets out on a quest for freedom and self-discovery as she tries to track down Lucinda to undo the curse, fending off ogres, befriending elves, and falling in love with a prince along the way. Yes, there is a pumpkin coach, a glass slipper, and a happily ever after, but this is the most remarkable, delightful, and profound version of Cinderella you'll ever read.

The Witches by Roald Dahl (1983)

This is not a fairy-tale. This is about real witches. Real witches don't ride around on broomsticks. They don't even wear black cloaks and hats. They are vile, cunning, detestable creatures who disguise themselves as nice, ordinary ladies. So how can you tell when you're face to face with one? Well, if you don't know yet you'd better find out quickly-because there's nothing a witch loathes quite as much as children and she'll wield all kinds of terrifying powers to get rid of them.

The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan (2010-2012)

Since their mother's death, Carter and Sadie have become near strangers. While Sadie has lived with her grandparents in London, her brother has traveled the world with their father, the brilliant Egyptologist, Dr. Julius Kane.  One night, Dr. Kane brings the siblings together for a "research experiment" at the British Museum, where he hopes to set things right for his family. Instead, he unleashes the Egyptian god Set, who banishes him to oblivion and forces the children to flee for their lives.  Soon, Sadie and Carter discover that the gods of Egypt are waking, and the worst of them--Set?has his sights on the Kanes. To stop him, the siblings embark on a dangerous journey across the globe -- a quest that brings them ever closer to the truth about their family, and their links to a secret order that has existed since the time of the pharaohs.

Discworld by Terry Pratchett (1983-2015)

In the beginning there was… a turtle.

 Somewhere on the frontier between thought and reality exists the Discworld, a parallel time and place which might sound and smell very much like our own, but which looks completely different.

 Particularly as it’s carried through space on the back of a giant turtle.

 It plays by different rules. But then, some things are the same everywhere. The Disc’s very existence is about to be threatened by a strange new blight: the world’s first tourist, upon whose survival rests the peace and prosperity of the land.

 Unfortunately, the person charged with maintaining that survival in the face of robbers, mercenaries and, well, Death, is a spectacularly inept wizard…

Daughter of Smoke & Bone by Laini Taylor (2011-2014)

Around the world, black handprints are appearing on doorways, scorched there by winged strangers who have crept through a slit in the sky.

In a dark and dusty shop, a devil's supply of human teeth grown dangerously low.

And in the tangled lanes of Prague, a young art student is about to be caught up in a brutal otherwordly war.

Meet Karou. She fills her sketchbooks with monsters that may or may not be real; she's prone to disappearing on mysterious "errands"; she speaks many languages—not all of them human; and her bright blue hair actually grows out of her head that color. Who is she? That is the question that haunts her, and she's about to find out.

When one of the strangers—beautiful, haunted Akiva—fixes his fire-colored eyes on her in an alley in Marrakesh, the result is blood and starlight, secrets unveiled, and a star-crossed love whose roots drink deep of a violent past. But will Karou live to regret learning the truth about herself?

[base0h]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS MEETING YOU, THEIR IDOL PLAYER

a/n - so this was kinda inspired by the one piece swapped au :) but yeah basically it’s just them meeting you, a professional volleyball player for Japan that they’ve idolized their entire life and aspired to become like you 🫶

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, famous volleyball player reader, this is not an x reader thing!!

are they having a seizure? A stroke? A heart attack? Maybe all three?? | “OH MY GO—“ they’re frozen mid sentence

.✩ hinata (when is bro not tweaking when he meets someone remotely cool?), nishinoya, tanaka (you made him and nishinoya freeze midair like when they saw johzenji’s manager), koganegawa, goshiki, yamaguchi, bokuto (he’ll unfreeze and then yap about how cool you are), yamamoto, inuoka, kinoshita, himekawa (he might’ve died standing up)

you’re scared of them because why are they just staring at you like they wanna murder you? | they want an autograph but are too afraid to ask you

.✩ kageyama, asahi (he doesn’t mean to bro 😭), aone, sakusa (bro doesn’t want germs on him but he also thinks you’re cool so he’s torn)

they’re so sweet, and they walk up to you with so much adoration your heart legit melts | “You’re so cool— you’re the reason I started volleyball and I’m so glad I did!”

.✩ hinata, nishinoya, kanoka, michimiya (she’s literally so sweet 😭), natsu, akane (she got into cheering because of you not her brother don’t tell him)

they’re all calm on the outside but inside they’re tweaking | “Can I have an autograph?” OH MY GOD IT’S Y/N L/N HOLY SHIT—

.✩ hoshiumi, kuroo, yaku, suguru, futakuchi, konoha, terushima

probably the most normal acting fans out of everyone | “Can I have a selfie with you? I’m a big fan of yours :)”

.✩ tendou, sugawara, ennoshita, iwaizumi (bro does not know how to smile for pictures tho), oikawa (he’s gonna do those finger heart things), matsukawa, hanamaki, daichi (also does not know how to smile for pictures plus he can’t figure out how to flip the camera), semi, aran, kai, komori, hirugami, akaashi

they don’t even look like they like you but they really do | “Can I have an autograph?” they say that as they’re looking at you like you’re a piece of trash

.✩ ushijima, kunimi, kenma (you’re his fav streamer), suna (his rbf is so bad) washio, shirabu (I don’t think he’s ever looked friendly in his life)

they’re very nervous and they legit cannot ask what they wanna ask without forgetting who they are where they are and what’s happening 😭 | “Uh— what’s my name for you to sign? Oh! Right— yeah my name is uh— crap what is my name?”

.✩ yamaguchi, hinata, kindaichi, himekawa, kinoshita, yachi (it’ll be a miracle if she actually is able to ask for a picture without dying of anxiety), kanoka, asahi (he forgot what he was gonna ask you too)

you’re a fan of them so now you’re tweaking because they’re asking YOU for an autograph/selfie | “Can I have a self—“ “YES.”

.✩ kenma (you’re literally a premium patreon), alisa, lev (bro him and his sister are so pretty), little giant, timeskip hinata (ninja shoyo bro 😭🙏)

you’re scared because why are they as tall as the BFG | “Can I have a selfie?” “Yeah sur— HOLY—“

.✩ hyakuzawa, tsukishima, ushijima (“hello there” bro has the high ground 💀), hakuba (that one dude in kamomedai), koganegawa, hirugami (not the kamomedai guy his older brother), lev, meian, sokolov (I have no idea who this is I just know he’s 6’7), barnes (also don’t know who this dude is but bro’s 6’9), taichi, tomas

they’re so chill and friendly that you become friends

.✩ fukunaga (he’s hilarious dude no wonder he’s a comedian post timeskip), kai (the guy is a saint 😭), aran, sarukui, konoha, tendou, kiyoko, sugawara, matsukawa, hanamaki

a/n - fukunaga is underrated guys he’s hilarious

[meowmeowriley]

Anybody else see that art on Twitter of Soap as an Animal Crossing villager, and then the other art of that Soap sitting on Doom Guy Ghost's shoulder? Anybody else feeling so incredibly normal about it? Anyway. Have this.

***

"C'mon uncle John, would it kill you to smile? Pretend you wanna be here?" Soap was doing his best, he really was. He loved his nephew, and when his sister Isla said he couldn't go to the convention because it was too far away and he didn't have an adult, well what are uncles for?! But he hadn't taken into account that 1) he's never been to a cosplay convention and 2) he's seriously out of his depth when it comes to the colorful characters around them. If anyone asked he'd be mortified to admit that he'd spent the better part of his leave following his nephew around, taking pictures of him with characters from various video games and anime. No, he'd be keeping this experience to himself.

"I'm not not enjoying myself." Andrew rolled his eyes. "I just don't know any of the characters. I haven't played a video game in ages, and I've never watched anime." Plenty of other soldiers did watch anime, and there was nothing wrong with that, he'd just never joined in.

Andy snorted. "What was the last game you played, old man?" Soap resented that. He wasn't even thirty yet.

"I dunno, Halo maybe?"

"The original?!"

"Think so." Soap said with a shrug.

"So the year I was born. Got it." Yikes.

Suddenly Andy was excitedly pointing at a large man in green and gray armor, in the middle of a crown. "Oh you have to recognize that guy!" And did he ever. How could anyone not recognize Doom Guy? And he was holding the BFG.

"Ohhhohohoho yeah. I know Doom Guy." John had nearly forgotten how much he'd loved the Doom games as a kid. "And before you say it, those games are old, even for me."

"They redid the games in 2016 and 2020. It's relevant again." Oh. And with that Soap was once again being dragged toward some random person in a costume.

Something this guy was getting right was that he wasn't speaking. He'd nod, wave, aim his gun, but he didn't utter a word. Soap couldn't see a thing through the helmet visor. I wonder if he can even see outta that?

The guy caught sight of them, evidently he could see, and tilted his head while looking down at Soap. "That things pure dead brilliant." He found himself marveling at the BFG in the man's armored hands.

It looked like it was actually made of metal. And it actually glowed! How the man had gotten the green lights to work, he was dying to know. Trying to configure it in his head, he nearly missed when the man held it out slightly for him. "Can I?" He asked, just making sure. Oh he'd kill for something like this in the field. Pure devastation. Doom Guy nodded and John took the gun. Holding it, it was a hell of a lot lighter than he'd imagined. The fuck is this thing made of?

Andy popped up beside him. "Can we get a picture with you mate?" To that, Doom Guy nodded. Maybe Soap would tell people he'd been here, he wanted a picture of him holding this gun hung up at his desk.

Andy backed up, people kindly stayed out of the way as the picture was taken. Doom Guy posed, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Soap held the gun as best he could like he would a rifle. Not aimed at anyone, but ready. "We're good." Andy called. Doom Guy  held up his hand to stop him, then stuck out one finger and swirled his hand around. "Huh?" Andy thought for a moment. "Another?" Doom Guy nodded and gave a thumbs up. Really taking his character seriously. Who were they to deny him, this was cool as fuck. Soap readied himself to take the next picture, giving the camera a feral grin, just like the first, when Doom Guy placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned down.

"Enjoying the convention Johnny?" Startled at the use of his name that he knew he hadn't given the man, he whipped around, instinctively pointing the gun in his hands at the chest of the other man.

Then it dawned on him. "Ghost?!" He asked incredulously. There's no fucking way.

The man in question began laughing. He reached up and removed his helmet. Shaking his head, Ghost's messy, dark blonde hair flew in every direction.

Unlike Las Almas, he wasn't drenched in sweat, there was no grease paint, and light brown hair was longer and curled slightly. Shit he had freckles. Shit he was cute. Dangerous thoughts, John.

"I didn't think this was your kinda thing, Johnny." Ghost said with a crooked grin that perfectly framed his crooked teeth.

John was no saint. He'd been flirting with Ghost since they met. Secretly really wanted to have sex with him, but he'd only seen the man's face that one time, and now his mind was going a million kilometers an hour trying to take in every inch on display. Thoughts both pure and impure ran through his head, and the only thing that managed to make its way to his mouth was "Where'd you get this thing?" Normally he was a better flirt, but normally he was flirting with the visage of death. Not a pretty man with freckles. Well he was, but not really.

"I made it." Ghost shrugged, armor clacking as his shoulders rose and fell. "Same as the suit. It's all EVA foam and 3D printing."

"You made this?!"

"Yeah? I made my masks too. What, you think I bought those?" Ghost smirked.

Andy had jogged back over. "I took a video, so we could take screenshots." He handed the phone over to Ghost.

"I'm absolutely keeping this, Johnny." He said as he typed in his number and sent the video to himself. Damn, Andy got Ghost's number before he did.

"Johnny?"

"Shut it, Andy." He warned. "We work together. Never in a million years thought I'd see him out here though."

"I go to any convention I can make. It's fun. I have other suits. Isaac Clark from Deadspace, Master Chief from Halo. I like to wear them and make people smile. I don't get to do that often." He seemed lost in thought for a second, face darkening. Just as quickly as it had happened, the expression was gone. "You go to conventions often?"

"First one. But I could be persuaded to go to more." John smiled his best flirty smile. Andy snickered, and earned himself an elbow to the ribs.

***

Now I desperately wanna see Soap at a con dressed like Isabelle while holding the super shotgun.

[giggly-squiggily]

okay prompt. uhh tokyo revengers

okay mitsuya brainrot so let’s see if i can come up with something ummm

he’s trying to do something, like sew or embroider or read or whatever. draken and mikey are screwing around and being loud and mitsuya gets a wee bit annoyed (very rare, he’s so Chill) and is like ARE YOU FIVE and draken and mikey are like, sassy mitsuya???? so they start poking him and annoying him on purpose and it turns into them just tickling him so he stops pouting lmao

as per usual, just delete if you aren’t feeling it!! <3

I blame @ticklish-n-stuff and @duckymcdoorknob (lovingly) for this- their Tokyo Revengers love has infected me and made me wanna rewatch/finish the show kjakjrekjarjkejkr I adore Mitsuya- this is so much fun! I've gotcha covered, friend!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @cupcake-spice13

“Say that again, shrimp- I dare you!”

“Ooo, that’s so scary coming from the BFG!”

“You wanna die today, Mikey?”

Mitsuya felt his eye twitch, the pattern of his latest project seeming to blur with each exchange going on around him. He was never going to get this done!

“Balk, balk balk! Mother Ken is angry!” Mikey made chicken noises, crossing his eyes and flapping his arms before taking off running, Draken in toe. The room wasn’t that small, but somehow these two managed to make it feel smaller. Pillows flew, a notebook Mitsuya forgot he even had gone soaring high, along with a handful of pens Mikey attempted to throw like ninja stars.

When a spar pin cushion bonked him in the head- thankfully lacking any pins in it- Mitsuya had enough.

“Are you two FIVE?” He snapped, twisting in his seat to glare. Mikey and Draken were in a sort of crouch, the bigger of the two’s hand around Mikey’s ponytail and said boy’s hand pulling Draken down by the side of his mouth. Both blinked owlishly at him. “Calm your asses down! This isn’t the playpen at a nursery!”

With that, he twisted around in his seat, returning to his project. Silence fell upon the room following it, something charged in the air. For a brief moment, Mitsuya wondered if he went too far.

A poke to the ribs told him otherwise.

“Oo, someone’s mad.” Mikey cooed, his face unnervingly cheeky. “We pissed off Taka, Kenny!”

“So we did.” Another poke to his other side made him jerk back, leaning away from the devilish look in Draken’s gaze. “Can’t have that, can we?”

“Go away! You two are pissing me off more now!” Mitsuya tried to stay mad, but each prod and poke tapped away at his mood, forcing his arms against his sides as he struggled not to smile. “Stop poking me, I’m working!”

“Oo, he’s working, Kenny! Better stop it now!” Poke poke poke.

“Don’t look at me, Mikey, you’re the one egging him on. Look, he’s getting red!” Poke poke poke.

Mitsuya was slightly flushed, the efforts to not burst into giggles right there proving difficult. “G-Go away! Bo-oth of yo-ou, sta-ahp thaht!”

“Oo, he’s laughing!” The pokes came to a halt. Mitsuya let out a sigh of relief. Behind him, Draken raised an eyebrow to Mikey. The shorter man nodded.

The next thing Mitsuya knew, twenty fingers were attacking his sides.

“AH! Ahehahahahahahha! Nohohohohoho, dohohoohn’t you dahhahahahahre!” Mitsuya squealed, flailing forward before sinking back in his chair, trying to curl up against the vicious attack. “Dohohohohn’t tihihihihihickle mehehehehehehehe!”

“Oo, why not? We’re only wittle five year olds! We don’t listen!” Mikey cooed at him in his best baby voice, snickering when Mitsuya cackled. “I wanna juice box!”

“And some animal crackers.” Draken added, moving his fingers up to the silver blonde’s belly, making him spasm. “Though that just sounds like a normal thing for you, Mikey. Sure you’re not secretly five? You pass for it being that short.”

“You know what, Kenny-”

“Guhuuhuuhuhys pelhahahhahhahahase!” Mitsuya howled, kicking his feet some when Mikey switched to his neck, pressing in all the sensitve spots. “Ahehahahahaha, dohohohohon’t! Iihihihihiihhm gohoohhoohohnna kihihihiihll yoohohohohohohou!”

“Threatening Toman’s leader? How bold.” Draken snickered, squeezing his hips. “You’re lucky we like you, Taka.”

“Yeah! And you make good brownies in a mug. I suppose I can let it slide.” Mikey nodded in agreement, snorting when the taller boy squealed, voice near silent. “Are you still mad?”

“NOHOHOHOOHOHOO!”

“Gonna forgive us?” Draken grinned, squeezing Mitsuya’s knee and making him kick.

“YEHEHEHEHEHS!”

“...Can I still have a juice box?”

“FIIHIHIHNE NOW STAHHHAHAHAP!”

The tickles finally came to an end. Mitsuya groaned through residue giggles as he sank further in his chair, nearly falling out. His vision was slightly blurred, and his body felt both light and exhausted- tingling from the tickles. Above him, Mikey and Draken laughed and cheered, high fiving.

“Jeheherks.” He groaned, shooting his hands out to jab them in the pits. Mikey all but flailed backwards while Draken jerked with a snort. “I hahahte you!”

“No you don’t.” Mikey recovered, ruffling Mitsuya’s hair until he was laughing once more. “So, where’s my juice box?”

“I don’t have any on me.” He confessed, earning a small pout from Mikey. “But I’ll buy you one. We can go down to the convenience store a few blocks from here.

“Whoo-hooo! You hear that Kenny? Juice!” Mikey cheered, already running out the door like a little kid. Draken laughed, standing up and pulling Mitsuya to his feet. 

“He really does act like a child. Heh, you good Taka?” The taller of the two looked around, wincing at the clutter. “Sorry about your room.”

“Don’t worry about it. You two can clean it up when we get back.” The silver haired teen shrugged, smacking Draken on the back as they headed out. “Hey, when I poked you-”

“Want round two?” Draken’s hand squeezed his hip out of nowhere, making the other jump back with a squeak.

“N-Nohoho!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Thanks for reading!

[fangirlfrom-hell]

The Fragile Bonds Part 4 || Jay and Will Halstead x Halstead Sister

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly erased my other blog 🫠 If you were following this story I'd appreciate your reblogs 🙏🏻

Summary: After their father's death, Becca moved in with Jay. This is the first time the detective brother has to go undercover since his sister has been under his full care, creating a challenging situation for both. Reluctantly, Becca will have to live with Will and his family during those days, even though she doesn't feel very welcome in that household.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

It was a cloudy afternoon, with no sign of the sun in sight. The rain had subsided, and if it weren't for the gentle drops trickling down the windowpane, it might have gone unnoticed.

Becca lay on her bed, engrossed in the book Mr. Olinsky had given her. The story revolved around a lonely orphan girl who discovers the existence of a giant and goes with him into his world. Becca enjoyed the book, but at that moment, she found it hard to concentrate on her reading. She placed it on her chest and turned her gaze toward the window. She remained still for a few minutes, imagining Hailey's car pulling up on the street. She hoped that this would happen, as the detective had promised to visit her that day. Nevertheless, Becca was accustomed to last-minute changes in plans, a common occurrence in a detective's line of work. She continued to gaze outside, lost in thought, until her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door from Will.

"Everything okay?" Will asked, but no words came out of his sister. She simply nodded.

"What are you reading?" Her brother approached and took a seat on the edge of the bed, prompting her to do the same. "The BFG?"

"The Big Friendly Giant," she replied. "Mr. Olinsky gave it to me, and he always asks me about it. I want to finish it for the next time I see him."

"Oh," Will was uncertain about how to react. It felt a bit strange to him that she was close to Jay's co-workers. For a moment, it tugged at his heart that she might be becoming closer to them than to him.

"Did you finish your homework?" Will inquired.

"Uh, no. It's Friday, and I don't feel like doing homework right now. I still have the whole weekend," Becca replied.

"Well," he said, taking the book from her hands, "I suggest you finish it today. We're planning to go to the aquarium tomorrow." He smiled from ear to ear.

"The aquarium?" Becca asked without much excitement.

"Yeah! We've been wanting to take Owen for a while now. Tomorrow's a great chance to do it, and you get to come with us," he said, excited and genuinely thinking Becca would be too.

"But tomorrow is my..."

"What?"

"Um, never mind..." She rolled her eyes, hoping that Jay would return at any moment. She was accustomed to Will always forgetting her birthday and other important events related to her, anyway.

"It will be fun!" Will tried to persuade her.

At this point, Becca couldn't even muster a fake smile. As soon as she was left alone in the room, she buried her face in a pillow, muffling her scream of frustration.

It felt as though time had ceased to exist that afternoon, a strange and surreal feeling. Becca spent most of the time in a state of half-sleep, drifting in and out, as if she were trying to fast-forward through the day. She didn't want to be awake.

By the time she finally woke up for good, it was already dark outside. She realized she had slept for a long time and suddenly remembered Hailey. Her heart raced with worry, fearing she might have missed a visit from the detective. "No, no, no," she muttered, reaching for her phone in the drawer. She discovered three missed calls and a text from Detective Upton.

Something surged, I'm sorry

The tone of the text conveyed the urgency. She put her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, just in case Hailey called again, she didn’t want to miss another call from Jay.

Leaving Mr. Snuggles behind, Becca ventured out of her dark room and was momentarily dazzled by the brightness of the rest of the house. The cold hit her immediately, and she shivered, regretting her choice of wearing only a light sweater over a tank top.

There were a lot of noises. The animated voices of cartoons emanated from the TV, Owen's plaintive cries echoed through the air, and Natalie's soothing reassurances cut through the clamor. Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, the clinking of plates, the splashing of water, and the rhythmic hiss of flames on the stove created a symphony of domestic activity. It smelled good. 

Upon entering the kitchen, Becca found her brother, Will, busy at the stove.

"Pasta!" He exclaimed, snapping his fingers and pointing to his little sister. "You can eat that, right? You can't be allergic to pasta!"

A smile graced Becca's lips as she responded, "Yeah, I can eat pasta. That's actually what Jay makes whenever he's too lazy to cook... which is often." Their shared laughter infused the room with a comforting sense of camaraderie.

"Well, dinner's almost ready. I bet you're hungry."

"Yes, I actually am. And it smells delicious." Becca's gratitude was evident in her words, and Will's smile in return felt like a small victory, he finally made Becca feel good.

"What's wrong with Owen?"

"I don't know, he just doesn't want to sleep. We didn't take him to the park because of the rain, so it might be all of his pent-up energy."

"Oh." Just as they were discussing Owen's restlessness, the baby's cries subsided, and the volume of the cartoons from the TV surged. Becca turned to glance at the wall clock; it read 7:00 PM. It was still relatively early, and she realized she hadn't slept as long as she thought.

"It's freezing," Becca mentioned, crossing her arms to ward off the chill.

"Here," Will offered, taking off his own sweater. "I don't want you to get sick." It was evident that he wanted to ensure Becca remained in the room with him, not wanting to break the peaceful moment they were sharing.

"No, it's all good," Becca quickly responded. "I'll get one from my bag. I'll be right back."

The door of the room was open, but the girl didn’t pay much attention to that detail. However, when she got in, she immediately noticed something amiss. The bed was empty. "Mr. Snuggles?" she thought, her heart sinking. She approached the bed, thinking she might have hidden the stuffed animal beneath the pillow, but her search yielded no trace of the beloved cat.

"Oh, no!" Panic gripped her, and she began frantically throwing pillows and blankets onto the floor, desperately searching for the missing plush companion.

“WILL! WILL!”, she screamed anxiously.

The redhead was at the door frame in an instant, a mixture of alarm and concern etched across his face.

"Wha--? What happened?" His own fear was palpable as they observed Becca, her tearful countenance and the disheveled state of the bed sheets. Quickly, he closed the distance and moved to her side.

“Mr. Snuggles is not here, HE’S NOT ANYWHERE!”

Will was confused, he didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“My stuffed animal!”

“Oh, the cat?” He finally realized. “Did you look well on the bed? Under?”

“WILL, I’M TELLING YOU–”

He could not understand why his sister was overeating that way, but he could feel her anxiety and exasperation. 

He put a hand on her shoulder and continued with a soothing tone, "ok, ok, let's go. I'll help you find it". 

Then, he proceeded to look under the bed, but there was no trace of the cat. "I don't know, Becca. Are you sure you leaved it in here? You didn't take it outside? Look, it's alright, tomorrow when we get out of the aquarium, we can go get a new one, I promise". 

However, this offer only seemed to exacerbate Becca's distress. She started bawling, and Will could see the profound sadness in her eyes, even if he didn't fully comprehend the situation. All he could do was embrace her, but Becca remained unresponsive, not reciprocating the hug.

"It's okay, Becca. You'll get a new one, and it will be even better. That cat was already old." Will tried to console her, although he was still perplexed by the depth of her attachment to the lost stuffed cat.

Becca's tears flowed uncontrollably as her mind became a whirlwind of memories from that special birthday when she had received Mr. Snuggles. She could see her mother's warm and loving smile, and picture Jay's supportive presence as he helped her unwrap the gift box. Those recollections also brought back the bittersweet image of their father, sitting at the table, all of them sharing a birthday cake. But what weighed most heavily on Becca's mind was the recollection of her mother's gentle voice and the overwhelming fear that gripped her – the fear that she might forget her mother's comforting scent and her cherished appearance if she were to lose Mr. Snuggles. It was this fear, this painful possibility, that had driven her to such intense distress.

In her frustration, Becca pushed her brother away, her actions betraying the depth of her anguish. "You don't get it," she groaned. The rawness of her emotions was palpable, and it left a profound ache in Will's chest as he struggled to comprehend the intensity of her distress and find a way to comfort her.

In that moment, the sound of laughter echoed from the living room, and it was at that moment Becca pieced together what had likely transpired. With a sense of urgency, she darted out of the room, her brother following closely behind. There, in the living room, she found Mr. Snuggles in the firm grasp of Owen, who was gleefully swinging the stuffed cat from side to side, dancing to the music of his cartoons.

"Mr. Snuggles," Becca whispered in relief.

Natalie, seated on the sofa, turned to look at Becca, initially unaware of the distress that had gripped the girl.

"Oh," she remarked to Becca. "It was the only thing that could calm him down. I was walking him around the house, and he wandered into the guest room to find it. I told him we would borrow it from you."

Will's voice came from behind, breaking the tension. "Good that we found him," he sighed in relief. "You still have my word about the new stuffed animal, though." He reached out and hugged his sister by the shoulder, still puzzled by her intense reaction and concerned by the fact that she was still upset. He wished he could understand and help her better, but for now, all he could do was be there for her.

"Will, I--thank you," Becca whispered in a hushed tone, ensuring her words were only for her brother's ears. "But I don't need or want another one. I need Mr. Snuggles, and I can't let Owen have it, I really can't."

Will glanced at Owen playing with the black cat. He didn't initially see the issue, but the intensity of Becca's emotions was impossible to ignore. He furrowed his brow and returned his gaze to her, realizing that she was genuinely suffering. It was clear that the stuffed animal held immense significance for her.

"Okay, alright," he said gently, attempting to wipe away her tears.

"Owen, come here," Will knelt to be at the boy's level. "Buddy, this little cat here is already tired. It's time for him to go back to sleep." As he tried to take Mr. Snuggles from Owen's small hands, the boy became upset and clung tighter to the toy.

“Will, what are you doing?” Natalie intervened.

“Becca wants, needs her plush back, that’s all”.

“He’s been restless for two hours, this thing is the only thing that has calmed him”.

“Yes, I know, but it’s not his, and we should have asked Becca first if we wanted to take it”.

Becca felt a warmth in her heart as she watched her brother stand up for her in front of his girlfriend, something that had never happened before. 

"Owen, pal, please," Will implored. He managed to gently take the stuffed animal from the boy's hands, but Owen's reaction was immediate – he started crying and throwing a tantrum.

Becca couldn't help but feel awful. She didn't want the baby to cry, and a wave of guilt washed over her for not letting him have Mr. Snuggles. But she just couldn't, if it were any other toy, she wouldn't have hesitated to lend it to him.

"Will!" Natalie scolded, and the cat went back into Owen's hands.

Will found himself in a difficult position, torn between wanting to please Becca and not fully comprehending the depth of her attachment to the toy.

"Becc, just lend it to him for a while. He'll get tired of it soon, you'll see."

Becca watched as Owen continued to play with Mr. Snuggles, her heart heavy with mixed emotions. She shuddered when she saw him putting one of the toy's ears into his mouth. The thought of her mother's scent slowly fading away from the cherished stuffed animal weighed heavily on her mind, making it even more difficult to let go.

“No, I can’t”

Will tried to stop her, but he didn't have the heart to do it.

"Owen, baby, I'm sorry, you need to give it back to me, please," Becca pleaded with a soft, gentle tone. However, Natalie intervened defensively.

"Becca, stop acting like this. It's just a toy, and he's just a kid."

Seizing the opportunity when Owen momentarily left the cat on the floor, Becca reached for it with a sense of relief. But at the same time, Natalie grasped it by the tail, and in the struggle to pull it towards herself, the stuffed animal tore in two.

Becca clutched the body of Mr. Snuggles in her arms, her eyes filled with horror as she stared at the torn tail on the floor. Her beloved companion had been torn apart, and she was left in shock, aghast at the sudden, painful loss.

"NO!" Becca's anguished scream pierced the air, sending shivers down Will's spine. Her cries escalated into a torrent of tears, her emotions a chaotic whirlwind of anger, sorrow, and anxiety. She felt trapped and overwhelmed, and all she wished for was to escape that painful moment.

"I wish I was dead too!" Becca's words, spoken with laboring breaths, were a heartbreaking cry for release. She bolted towards the front door in a desperate attempt to escape, but Will managed to reach her in time, pulling her into a hug from behind, trying to be gentle and cautious, afraid of hurting her in the process. His embrace was a lifeline, an attempt to anchor her and provide the support she desperately needed in that agonizing moment.

"Let me go! Leave me alone!" Becca's cries reverberated, her voice laced with anguish and despair. No one had ever witnessed her in such a state; she appeared as if she were possessed, kicking and hitting, doing everything in her power to break free from her brother's embrace, as if she were fighting against her own tormenting emotions.

"I can't. I can't let you go like this. I need you to calm down, sweetie. Calm down, Beccs, everything's okay," Will implored, his words filled with love and concern.

But those last words pierced her like a dagger to the heart. Nothing was okay; everything felt wrong. Her world was fractured. She no longer had her dad, her mom, or Jay. The only thing that still connected her to her mother had been damaged. She didn't have a home, and she couldn't find her place in this world. In her anguish, Becca acted without thinking, biting Will's arm to break free from his embrace, her pain manifesting in a desperate attempt to escape her overwhelming emotions.

“Will, she bit you. Do something!” Natalie’s accusations rumbled in her ears.

“No, no. It’s ok, Beccs. It’s alright”, Will tried to calm his sister, whose little face looked frightened.

Everything happened so fast and Becca managed to break free and escape through the front door. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her vision blurred by tears, making it impossible to see clearly where she was headed. 

Unheeding of Natalie's protests, Will chased after her, desperate to catch up.

"Becca! Becca, please!" His voice reached her ears, calling her name at a distance, but it grew fainter and fainter as she continued to run. "Becca!" She heard one last anguished cry, a long and agonized scream that filled the air with sorrow.

When she finally came to a halt, she was exhausted, her breathing labored. She looked around, but the surroundings were unfamiliar, and she couldn't identify the street or any nearby landmarks. She was lost, but returning the way she came wasn't an option, so she continued to walk, trying to find her bearings and make sense of her tumultuous emotions.

It was dark and cold, and she wasn't properly dressed, lacking a warm sweater. Her nose turned red, and her face and ears stung from the biting chill, but she didn't stop walking. She suddenly remembered she had her phone in her pocket and, without breaking her stride, she pulled it out. She dialed the number, but the call didn't connect; the number she called was turned off. Nonetheless, she decided to leave a message on the voicemail.

"J-Jay..."

Will was overwhelmed by fear, his mind racing with countless scenarios. He rushed back inside his home to retrieve his car keys, wasting no time, and then immediately returned to search for Becca. Determined to find his sister and make sure she was safe, he set out with a sense of urgency.

Meanwhile, Becca continued walking along a dimly lit street, too afraid to stop and ask for help. At this point, even if she wanted to, she couldn't return to Will's house, as she was unsure how to find her way back. Eventually, she came upon a bench in a park that seemed relatively safe, with a few children and their mothers nearby.

With trembling hands, she retrieved her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and called Hailey's number multiple times, but there was no answer. Frustrated and desperate, she decided to send a text:

Hailey, I need you. Please, call me

Becca quickly noticed a man approaching her, which instinctively made her stand up and call Hailey one last time.

"Hey, girl!" The man continued walking toward her at an accelerated pace. "Are you alone?"

Once more, there was no answer on the other side of the line. This time, however, Becca decided to speak to the voicemail. Her voice trembled and cracked as she cried out of fear, "Hailey! Hailey! I really need your help..."

The stranger was now just a few steps away from her and made a gesture as if he was trying to take her arm. In a panic, Becca screamed at him while still on the call, "No, get off!" She then began to run once again, desperate to escape the approaching stranger.

After several minutes of wandering around, shivering from the cold and filled with fear, unable to stop crying, Becca found herself standing beneath a well-lit area outside a small store where a steady flow of people passed by. She retrieved her phone once more, but her heart sank when she realized the battery was dead. Cursing her misfortune, she felt a touch on her shoulder and startled in fear.

"It's okay, honey," a woman's voice reassured her. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you okay? Are you lost? Do you need help?"

However, Becca was now too paranoid and frightened to trust a stranger. She took a few steps back, her guard up.

"Okay, okay, don't go. Don't worry," the woman said, trying to be reassuring. "I'll call the police, and they'll help you get back home, okay? I'll stay here with you."

But as soon as the woman briefly took her eyes off the young girl, Becca seized the opportunity to slip away and disappear into the night.

"Did you find her?" Natalie inquired, even though it was only Will who returned to the car. He was overwhelmed, his stress and anxiety apparent as he sat on the entrance stairs, his elbows on his knees and his hands on his face. His girlfriend knelt beside him and rubbed his back in a soothing manner. "She'll be back soon."

"Are you sure? She's a 12-year-old girl wandering the streets alone at night. She's never been out alone!"

"She must be hiding somewhere, like in a game. She just wants to get your attention. Give her time."

Will couldn't bear the waiting any longer. "She's anxious, stressed, and sad. She was crying her eyes out. She must be frightened and cold right now. And it's all my fault," his voice quivered as he spoke. Will ran his hands over his face in frustration. "We should call the police," he suggested.

"What? No!"

"It's been three hours now!"

"If you call the police, Jay will find out about this!"

Determined, Will stood up. "He'll find out anyway."

Natalie continued to resist, "...and we'll have the entire Intelligence unit here. Is that what you want?"

"Actually, yes, Natalie. I want every cop in Chicago looking for my little sister, if that's possible!" 

The 21st district was empty, the only sound filling the station was the echo of footsteps ascending the stairs. Jay was the first to enter the bullpen, followed by the rest of the Intelligence detectives and officers, all dressed in their tactical gear. He was the sole individual in plain clothes, and he looked thoroughly exhausted.

"Good job!" Voight patted Halstead on the back. "All of you. Now, go rest. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow. These punks aren't going anywhere." Before retreating to his office, the sergeant turned back to address Jay again. "Take a day off, you've earned it."

"Thanks, Sarge," Jay acknowledged.

"Alright, it's 10:40. Still time to head to Molly's to celebrate," Adam announced to the room. "First round's on me. Who's coming?"

They all accepted the invitation, including Hank from his desk.

"Jay, you coming?" Kevin inquired when he noticed Jay hesitating.

"No, I'll pass, guys. I'll just shower and go straight to pick up Becca. She must be losing her mind after a week with Will," he quipped with a smile. "If I hurry, I can still be the first one to wish her a happy birthday."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Fifteen.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,830

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

Twenty-three years old. In truth, Ella hadn’t really known where she’d be the year before, her denial and then acceptance of the need to recover herself at the forefront of her mind. Where she found herself was in a position few women would turn down.  

“Oh, fuck, yes, yes, ahhhh!” Her gritted statement was delivered on a bliss filled cry, highly enjoying having her insides rearranged as she was shagged ragged from behind by her boyfriend. Slowing, he grasped her shoulders, pulling her until her back pressed against his chest, mouth laying hot kisses at the side of her neck as his hands roamed over her. 

It shined golden through her, every wave of ecstasy elicited by the slow, deep punch of his cock, one hand squeezing her breasts and sliding to hold her throat, the other moving between her legs to begin stroking at her clit. With every roll of his fingertips, he pulled soft wails from her, teeth nipping her neck, sending little bolts skittering through her.   

“So, how’s your birthday going so far, darlin’?” he panted, Ella turning her head with a big smile, kissing him with smouldering sin. 

“Could be a lot worse than getting pounded by a gorgeous, thick cock.”  

He hummed a chuckle against her lips, rutting her a little harder. “Yeah, ain’t you a lucky girl?” After he’d finished bouncing her around the bed, she had that confirmed even further, too.  

“Baby! No! You didn’t!” she screamed, her mouth dropping open, James’s grin widening at seeing how thrilled she was with her gift. He’d bought her favourite album by The Prodigy on vinyl for her, signed by all four members of the band.  

“I did. Knew you’d die as soon as you saw it, innit. Oh, and you might wanna look inside the sleeve.”  

Curious, she opened it up, her mouth falling open again after pulling out two tickets to go and see them live at Kentish Town Forum in London the following month. The tour had sold out before she’d had chance to get any, so how he’d managed it she didn’t know.  

“My BFG!” she cooed, moving to straddle his lap and kiss him. “You’re the best! Thank you so, so much!” 

“You’re welcome, little,” he hummed, kissing her again and tightening his arms around her. “And yeah, I’m coming with you to suffer the noise. Got us a hotel booked down there for the weekend and all that, too.”  

With his money from album sales running quite low, it was truly more than he could afford, but she was worth it. Besides, he could easily go and pick up some work somewhere around recording their new album come nine days from then, Steve already returned to doing doorman work at various clubs and bars around Warwickshire. He’d done it himself in the past at The Gallows, so supposed he could ask Steve’s boss to hook him up with a few hours. It meant losing weekends around shifts, but it paid very well.  

It was The Gallows they were heading to that evening for Ella’s birthday night out, James half expecting her to want to go to a club that played pounding dance music until dawn. Her revealed plans had been very different, though. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t to his relief.  

After the incident when she’d been grabbed at while dancing on a podium, it had made her feel uncomfortable about returning to her beloved dance scene again, Ella beginning to find herself much more at home on the metal scene. Even the music was beginning to grow on her. Plus, it was well known now wherever she went, exactly who she was; War’s girlfriend, and if there was one woman you didn’t grab out of fear of having your arse handed to you, well. It was her.  

Also, she found that the blokes on the rock and metal scene were much more appropriate, too. Despite the common reputation of being uncouth hellions, she definitely noticed a difference in how she was treated.  

Take one night at The Gallows for instance, Ella walking back to her table from the toilets and suddenly finding herself halted by a man she didn’t know, rapidly removing his plaid shirt and tying it around her waist, whispering discreetly that her hotpants had split at the back. The man had introduced himself as Mark, he and his girlfriend Lizzie becoming fast friends with her and her little group.  

They’d be meeting with them that night, as well as her sister and Andrea, too, who they were collecting from the train station that afternoon after visiting James’s parents. Needless to say, the activities planned for afterwards were the ones he was looking forward to more that day. Apart from seeing his dad and sister, but he was dreading introducing Ella to his mother.  

“If she says anything thoughtless, just ignore her. Carole Kingston ain’t known for having a filter. I’d say she don’t mean it, like, but I’m not so sure any longer. Fucking shit stirrer,” he spoke as they alighted the car outside number forty-seven, Prescott Drive a few hours later.  

Halting him at the bottom of the drive, she grabbed his hands, giving his arms a little shake. “Come on, chill out a bit before you go in there.” 

“I’m fine, I’m chilled,” he spoke. 

Ella snorted softly. “That’s a load of bollocks, baby. You’re practically grinding your teeth. Come on, just breathe it out, relax.” Truly, she wanted it to go well for his sake more than hers, not wanting there to be any existing conflict for him to negotiate. It all depended on what mood his mother was in though, she supposed.  

He dropped a kiss to her forehead, grabbing her hand before walking up the drive past his dad’s car, the front door flying open. 

“Nah, Jimbo! What are you doing with such a pretty girl? Did she not bring her white stick and Labrador with her?”  

“Fuck off, dickhead,” he frowned, Sam throwing her head back with a squeaky laugh.  

“Hi, Ella. I’m Sam, or dickhead, pain in the arse or twat, as my brother often calls me. Nice to meet you!”  

Indeed, those were his preferred names. “Nice to meet you, Sam.” she spoke, James walking past her with a shoulder barge. 

“Out the way, skin!” he muttered, stopping to grin and then pull her into a hug. “What kind of mood is the duchess in?” 

“Not too bad, you know. Freaked out over cheese sauce. She’s made lasagne.” Immediately, his stomach tingled, wondering how Ella would cope with that, a food that was definitely placed on the scary category. It had to be said, though, she was getting better. She managed to eat rice a few times a week without issue, which was good since they had to make food money stretch.  

Moving through the house, they arrived in the large kitchen, the space extending around to a dining room as well. What had once been a modest council house had been turned into a much larger home, the extension built on by Ted, Alan’s brother giving a lot of space that hadn’t existed before, and a garden much easier to manage.  

“Alright, kidda! Ella, looking lovely as usual. Happy birthday, petal!” Alan spoke as he walked back in from the garden, handing her a card and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Awww, thanks, Alan,” she spoke, opening it up, thanking him again after reading the message and finding a twenty-pound note kindly included, Carole turning from the sink. 

“Oh! You’re here! Hi!” Bustling over, she pulled James into a hug, turning then to Ella with a smile. “Well! You’re nothing like the last one, but that’s a good thing. Bright yellow hair, tattoos on her face and a flippin’ great big ring in the middle of her nose!” she exclaimed, the corner of her mouth twitching as she laughed.  

James supposed that was a compliment of sorts. Unless you happened to be Chrissie, his ex. His insides unclenched a little, seeing that his mum appeared to be in a good mood. It was what drove him up the wall about her most, the fact that Carole had the capacity to be a perfectly lovely woman, but all too often let her less favourable qualities get the better of her. 

Still, he knew how quickly she could find a fault and begin to pick at it. Like clockwork, it began over lunch, James noticing her eyes flitting to Ella at regular intervals, very observant over the smaller portion of food she ate.  

“Eh lad, I was out with a few of the fellas from work last night, saw Steve on the doors at that new club they’ve opened in what used to be the old Lloyds bank. When’d he go back to it?” Alan asked, placing his cutlery down and picking up his beer.  

“Not long ago,” he confirmed, crunching through a piece of cucumber. “He’s having a word with his boss tonight, seeing if he can get me back in it as well.”  

Carole’s eyes snapped to her son, pausing from chewing. “James, you aren’t seriously considering going back to being a bloody bouncer, are you?” 

“Yeah, I am. I’m good at it and it pays well. Only downside is losing my weekend nights, but it wouldn’t be every weekend. The shifts rotate,” he confirmed, reaching to tickle Ella’s cheek with his finger when she poked her bottom lip out. If there was one thing she loved, it was going out for a good time with her boyfriend.  

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? That’s the only downside? You getting glassed or worse by some pissed up idiot isn’t something you’re factoring in here?” 

“Ease up, love,” Alan spoke lightly, “he’s a big lad, he can handle himself. Then there’s the ole’ kickboxing, you’ve started that too now, right? How’s that going?” 

James thought it was commendable that his dad obviously wanted to move the conversation on from being something to gripe about. “Yeah, I really enjoy it. Only had two classes so far, go on Monday and Wednesday evenings.” 

“Learning kickboxing won’t stop you from being stabbed.” Oh, no. She wasn’t quite done yet. “Remind me how many times you had a knife pulled on you while you were working doors before?”  

“Three, and none ever got me,” he spoke, chewing the inside of his cheek with irritation.  

He watched her shrug, the corner of her mouth twisting. “I hope you’re not going back to it because underneath, you want them to. We’re not back there are we, James?”  

Ella’s eyes widened, gulping down her mouthful of food, reaching beneath the table to rest a hand on his thigh. God, he was right. No tact was to be found there.  

“I’d say I can’t believe you’ve just said that, but I can.” Fixing her with a hard look, he lifted his chin. “No. I’m not.” 

“Carole,” Alan warned, placing his glass down. “Don’t.”  

“Don’t what? Show concern with what ‘profession’ our son is seeking?” 

“I already have one of those,” the son himself stated, “but sadly ‘cos our corner of the metal world ain’t as lucrative as the more mainstream stuff, it don’t pay fortunes. I need quick cash until we get the next album done, get out on the road again and all that. Touring is where the main revenue is, innit.” 

“Then why in god’s name are you flippin’ doing it? Wasting your bloody time, you are!” 

“Because he loves it.” James hadn’t expected Ella to speak up, but there she was, her hand still squeezing his thigh supportively. “Because he wouldn’t be who he is without his music.” 

Carole wasn’t used to having her opinion challenged, no matter how politely. “What’s that then, Ella? A clinically depressed man who seems to be heading down all the wrong paths in his life? Choosing a career that doesn’t pay and sublimating it with a job fraught with dangers?” 

“Clinical depression is what he has. It isn’t who he is. Who he is, is a musician. A very talented one.”  

His heart bloomed, to hear those words. He’d known Ella for six and a half months and yet, she had a better understanding of him than his own mother. It spoke volumes. Carole, however, wasn’t to be defeated like that. Her words were delivered with the brand of cool snide the entire family were sadly becoming all too used to hearing.  

“So, where are you working at the moment, then? What’s your special talent, Ella?” 

James’s eyes fixed on her, his nostrils flaring. His girlfriend had hit her with something she couldn’t argue back against, so she’d changed track.  

“Currently, I’m not working. I start my new job next Monday, though. At the florist just off the high street.” 

“Oh, Bloomin’ Lovely?” Sam interjected, wanting to try and steer the conversation round. “I bought mum a bouquet from there for her birthday a few months back. The lady was so sweet, with all her bracelets and those crazy glasses and bright pink hair!”  

“Yeah, that’s it!” Ella confirmed. “And her hair is orange at the moment. She seems really cool.”  

“So, what have you been living off since you’ve been out, then, since you’ve only recently found yourself work?” Carole then questioned, the corner of her mouth upturning, thinking she had a win coming her way. 

Ella felt uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t be made to feel small. “I had some cash from my former job in the bank.” 

“Oh, I’m glad to hear you’ve been paying your way and not sponging off my son. I thought maybe the reason he could have been going back to high risk, but high pay work was to support you both. I’m glad that isn’t the case.” Her eyes toured her, picking up her wine glass with a little grin. “Not that you eat much, though. You can’t be expensive to keep. Just as well, really, since you probably vomit most of it back up.” 

How James didn’t throw the knife in his hand directly at her head, he didn’t know, placing his cutlery down and glaring. “That was low. In fucking fact, mum, that was spiteful. I ain’t having that, nah.”  

“Good bloody lord, Carole!” his dad remarked, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There was no need for that. Ella, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

She nodded, but inside felt her stomach turning over and over, unable to believe how unpleasant the afternoon had turned. All because Carole was wrong and couldn’t stand it. 

She shrugged, sipping her wine with nonchalance. “Don’t apologise for me. I’m not sorry for pointing out the truth.” 

“Mum, stop it. You’re only embarrassing yourself,” Sam groaned, combing her fingers through her short, bobbed hair. 

With those words, James made a decision, looking across the table to see nothing but smug glee from a woman who truly should have been nothing but ashamed for the way she’d just spoken. If only her ego would let her.  

“And that’s the last time I step foot in this house.” Standing up, he turned to Ella, reaching for her hand. “You can’t help yourself, mum, and deep down I don’t even think you want to. I think you enjoy provoking reactions. Alright so fine, I obviously didn’t grow up to be the son you wanted. I’m a basket case of a black metal musician and that pisses you off, but Ella ain’t done fuck all to you.” 

“James, that’s not...” Carole began, but her eldest had truly had enough. 

“Nah, tired of it, innit. You? You ain’t good for my recovery, you wind me the fuck up every time I have to share breathing space with you. Find someone else to pick at, because it ain’t me any longer and it sure as fuck ain’t my girlfriend either.” Walking around the table, he grasped his dad’s shoulder, telling him he’d see him soon, dropping a kiss to Sam’s head and pledging her the same.  

He was about to leave, turning back suddenly. “You know what? One thing I’ve learned in therapy is that with mental illness, sometimes people with a mentally ill parent are more predisposed to it, like. Maybe you might wanna go get whatever the fuck it is you’re suffering from checked out, save you losing any other members of your family, yeah?” 

“Oh, shut your mouth, James! How flippin’ dare you accuse me of that! You’re the crazy one here, not me!” 

Now she’d really done it, the bile in him rising sharply. “Drop dead, you vile old twat.” 

Leaving the house, the first thing he did was take Ella’s face in his hands and kiss her, wrapping her in a huge hug. “I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry she chose today of all day’s to be such a cunt to you. Gave me the push I’ve needed for a while, though, innit. She ain’t no good for me, so I don’t want nothing to do with her.” 

Her eyes widened, shaking her head. “You were right. I wondered, you know, could she truly be that bad? Bleedin’ hell. She’s worse. It’s so flip switch, too!” 

“Told you.” 

“And she’s so calculated! If you prove her wrong on one thing, she veers off and attacks you over something else!” 

“Told you.” 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry you had a mum like her to deal with, especially while you’ve been recovering!” Her jaw tightened, shaking her head. “I could smack her for calling you crazy! What a nasty woman.” 

He took her hand, kissing it before they walked away from the house, the muffled sounds of his parents yelling at each other fading as they moved down the drive. “Yeah, this is why I ain’t been around her much. Her having that attitude towards me is one thing, but you? Nah. Fuck that.” He smirked a little sadly, his nose crinkling. “I still feel like a cunt for telling her to drop dead though, innit. Didn’t mean that, I was just pissed off with her being like that all the shitting time.”  

“I think you were reserved for how blazing you can be when you’re angry!” she cried, James getting into the car and leaning over to open her door for her. “You didn’t even shout at her. You just like, told her it wasn’t on and then removed yourself. It’s pants, it really is, but if that’s how she chooses to behave then honestly, this has probably been a long time coming.” 

He started the engine, but sat and looked thoughtful for a few moments, reaching to grasp her hand. “I love that about you, babe. You’re so fucking wise, and you’re right. It has. Thanks for standing up for me in there, too. Just wish it hadn’t fucking happened. Proper fucking stressed now.” 

Looking at her watch, she saw that the disastrous lunch had left them with three hours to kill until Andrea’s train arrived, her fingers tickling her way up his arm through the thick, grey sweater he wore. “I can take your mind off the stress, if you like?” 

The suggestion in her voice and the way she looked out from under her lashes at him was undeniable. Half an hour later, and he was relaxing in the armchair, smoking a joint while Ella’s mouth bobbed up and down on his cock. There were much worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon, he thought. He could have stayed at his mother’s house, for example.  

The tie had been severed now, though, and while he did feel shit about how it had all ended, there was a very real sense of peace he experienced at cutting her out of his life. If she brought him nothing but frustration then she couldn’t remain. Frustration was the last thing he felt in that moment, though, taking one last puff on the joint before placing it down, not wanting to be too high when he had to drive. Besides, Ella was doing wonderful things for him with her mouth all on her own. 

“Mmmmm, fuck, your cock is so hard,” she moaned, flicking her tongue over the head before taking him back deep again, feeling it twitch. “Makes me really want to get on it, but I’ll have enough of that later, and I don’t want a sore little pussy to take that kind of pounding.”  

Working him faster and faster, her hand massaged the base of him while her mouth gradually added more pressure, his hips twitching and abs locking as with a deep groan, he spilled into her throat. 

Swallowing, she carefully tucked him back into his jeans, licking her lip seductively as she reached for her can of Diet Coke and took a big gulp. “Less stressed now?” 

“Mm.” 

Chuckling at his blissed-out reaction, she moved astride him. “Did I fry your brain?” 

“Mm.”  

She kissed him, all slow heat, his hands grasping tight on her bum. “Cool beans. Can’t be having a stressed-out church burner on my hands.” He laughed, and she received a hard slap to her bum, Ella squeaking as she made herself comfortable on his lap. They had about twenty minutes of the flat to themselves before Steve and Snedders arrived back, the guys laden with bags.  

“Happy birthday, Greenhall!” Steve announced at high volume. “Sorry it ain’t wrapped, but I’m a bloke. I’m proper rubbish at all that!” 

She had her face grabbed and a huge smacker planted on her lips, James beginning to laugh filthily. “Ahh man. If only you knew where her mouth was twenty minutes ago.” 

Steve worked it out in two seconds, shuddering, his face so sour that the flat was filled with riotous laughter at his expense as he strode for the alcohol bottles in the kitchen and cleansed himself with four mouthfuls of Jack Daniels. “Oh man. No. Bleugh. Open your present!” 

Ella peered into the bag, her eyes lighting up. “I love you! You’ve been talking to Hester, haven’t you?” 

“I fucking have!” he announced proudly as she pulled out a wooden carved buddha statue she’d been eyeing in the local new age shop, plus a bottle of Absolut vodka. “Get it open! Let’s do shots!”  

Ella shared a look with James. “Only him. Only ole’ Berserker over there would have designs on drinking my birthday present with me.” 

“Oi! Who polished off my fucking tequila last Sunday and then kept me awake while she bounced all over my best friend’s cock? You and your sex screaming owe me, now get over here!”  

He had a point, Ella scrambling from James’s lap with her vodka as he laughed loudly, moving to Steve who was lining up shot glasses. She had the feeling it was about to be an awesome night, regardless of what had befallen it in the hours before.  

She’d be right to, too.  

[t0818ru2]

What are the stand abilities, my guy

The stands go from one extreme to another. They are either super simple or super complex. I will try not to go into too much detail:

If something is written like shit, I'm sorry, I'm literally using translator lol

[BORN FOR GREATNESS]: Object Shapeshifting

BFG can transform objects into other objects. The limitations are:

1.The size, it can't shapeshift something bigger than a bike.

2.Any organic matter or liquid can't be shapeshifted. It must be partially solid.

3.If the object is composed of multiple pieces, the user has to know how it works internally to replicate it.

4.The mass, the object the usser want to transform must have similar mass and size.

5.It can't transform a object into a non-object. This rule is quite complicated to explain, For examble: The user can shapeshift a rock in to a Knife or Tennis Ball, but not the other way around, like a PIECE of gold or a PIECE uranium, or a PIECE of something. MUST be an usable Object (Chair, Gun, a Box). Also, must be a credible and possible object of its existence.

BGF or the user needs to be in contact with the object he/it wants to shapeshift. However, it can also delay its effects for a few seconds or cancel it in the middle of the transformation.

[Any questions regarding these rules can be answered and asked. I have no problem answering any questions that arise from these unnecessarily complicated powers lol.]

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[COSMIC LOVE]: Super Speed / Cement Slime / Slow Invisibility

As the name implies, CL can move at surprising speeds. She can climb any surface. The saliva that CL leaves behind wherever she passes can be solidified at the user's will. In this way, the user plays a more defensive role. She can also use the saliva to create walls, bridges or small simple structures. The solidified slime is quite resistant, it is not exactly cement as the name of the ability indicates, but a more resistant material than sewage. It can be broken with enough force, it is not exactly indestructible. Lastly, when CL moves slowly, she becomes completely invisible to anyone, whether they are a stand user or not.

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[NAKED DEATH]: Sword Manifestation / Foldable, Bendable and Extendable Sword

ND can take the appearance of an innocent caterpillar and hide anywhere. The caterpillar can transform into a sword whenever the user wants. This sword has a fairly long range, it can bend and stretch as much as the user wants but it cannot become wider. A very useful ability that ND has is that it can channel psionic energy to become sharper. By channeling psionic energy it also allows the user (being a goldblood) to place their mind into the sword and in this way sense other psionic energies around them and through walls. It is worth noting that this ability is the user's own and not the sword's. In this way they can hit targets they cannot see or adjust the movements of the sword according to what he sense.

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[EMPIRE ANTS]: Removable Body Parts / Transformable Body Parts into Ants

SE can detach body parts from its user at will. However, it does make the user invulnerable to any attack involving slashing. For example, if a sword slices half of the user's head, the user will continue to be perfectly fine. Any body parts that were cut off intentionally or not can be manipulated by the user.

These severed limbs or parts will grow small ant-like legs and a mouth with pincers (sometimes wings) which can be used to attack one or multiple targets. The only way to finish off the user is by attacking the stand directly. Unfortunately for the user, the stand must be nearby for its effects to work cause it short range, so EA often hides to avoid being found during a fight. If the stand is defeated, the body parts will reconnect to the user, having been severed by an opponent or voluntarily detached. The stand's effects do not trigger when the user is unconscious or asleep.

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[OASIS]: Convergence of Timelines / Paradox Cloning

oh boy this stand Oasis is a stand with the ability to converge all timelines into one. However, this is only limited to within the hive where the user lives. The user is trapped within her hive and it is impossible for her to leave. All of these timelines are exclusively within the hive, so she will only be able to converge the timelines of the people who have entered the hive. The hive is an impossible space created by the stand where each room is exactly the same but differs in different parts of the time from the intruders in the house. For example, by moving through several rooms you can move through different moments in time within the house, so it is possible to end up meeting yourself in a different time period, but only one time period within the hive. These timelines only converge at the moment the intruders enter, so the only moments they can be in are from when they enter until they have died in the future. So they can't find rooms or themselves from a past before they were inside the hive. Yes it is pretty complicated. When all individuals in all timelines within the house die, any trace of them having entered is eliminated. The user only has to wait for all the timelines to end, by killiing each other or die of starvation.

Another ability that Oasis has is the ability to create clones of the user at different periods of their life. Thus, she can create infinite copies of herself. All of these copies have a hive mind, so anything that one knows, the user knows as well. This is often used to persuade intruders or kill them if possible. An important thing about this ability is that the clones can leave the hive, this is used by the user to fulfill her role as a spy, being able to be in different places at the same time and gather information.

The user and the stand are bound to the hive, so if the hive is destroyed from the outside, the user and the stand will perish. The house is impossible to destroy from the inside. The only way to escape is to find the user and kill them.

Another minor ability of Oasis is that he can generate hooks with chains anywhere in the house. However, this ability doesn't have much use other than just dragging people into different parts of the hive, but they are not for harming or attacking intruders.

The user can also move some rooms around if she is in contact or knows where the intruders are based on the knowledge of her paradox clones.

Finally, each room in the Hive has a harmless copy of the Oasis stand, if this stand is attacked, the entire timeline of that room will be erased along with the room leaving an empty place where any intruder can fall infinitely.

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[JUNKY BEAT]: Anger Provoking Sound

JB is an automatic stand. When the user wants, they can select a person and the stand will follow the target wherever they go. From the moment the stand is flying around the target, the target will emit a sound similar to a mosquito. This sound can be heard by anyone, whether or not they are a stand user. Anyone in range of the sound who can hear it will start to get irritated. The people around will start to become more and more aggressive towards the target, who cannot hear the sound in any way. The number of people who can hear the sound is only derived from the number of people around. In this way, the user manages to make the people around fight each other, attacking the target and killing them. People will believe that the only way to get the sound is to kill the one who is causing it, becoming a blind rage and only worrying about stopping the sound. Unfortunately, the stand's range is medium, so the user must follow the target cautiously. The sound JB makes is proportional to the distance from the user. But, no matter how far away the user is, the stand can continue to follow its target, whether the user is too far away to make a sound or not.

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[GOREY DEMISE]: Death warrant

GD has two phases: Inactive and Active. When GD is in the inactive phase, the stand will not be able to protect its user from any attack. Any attack that is directed towards the user will pass through them directly. The stand can mimic attacking but any attack directed towards an attacker will pass through them and have no effect. The stand in this phase is completely useless and no one can interact with it and vice versa.

The second phase, the active phase, is activated when the user is killed by another person in any way. When the user is killed, GD will revive the user and it will enter the active phase. In this phase, the stand will become completely tangible, fast and resistant to any attack or effect. GD will defend the user from any threat that could threaten it life, including abilities capable of manipulating time or any effect that threatens the user's life. However, GD will still be unable to attack or do any damage.

When the stand enters its active phase, its automatic ability, Death Warrant, activates. The person who killed the user will have exactly 30 minutes to replicate the same death that the user had on a different person. The cause of death must be exactly the same as that inflicted on the user. For example, if the user was killed with 5 knives in the body and bled to death, another person must die in the same way for the ability's effect to end, 5 knives in the same locations.

After 30 minutes have passed and if the target did not meet the conditions, the target will die in the same way in which the user was killed. If the target met the conditions by killing someone else, the effect will be cancelled and the stand enter again to the inactive fase.

When Death Warrant is activated, it cannot be activated on the same person a second time.

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[CAN OF WORMS]: Solid Ground Swimming / Echolocation of Thoughts

COW is an automatic stand that follows one or multiple targets. The stand detaches itself at the user's will and will follow it no matter what the targets are. COW's range is quite long so the user can be very far away and still be attacking its victims. COW's criteria for attacking its targets are thoughts. The stand is capable of reading minds and detecting them like sound waves and in this way attacking any thinking creature everytime it think. This stand can also traverse the ground, being able to travel at great speeds beneath solid ground. Ground, walls, or solid materials do not affect COW's mind-reading ability, and these sound-like waves travel through any solid.

COW has extremely disproportionate strength, however it has a very poor defense, becoming a glass cannon. The stand is also capable of dodging and reacting at high speed to any attack that comes its way, since COW can predict attacks that were previously thought out by the targets. The user can still continue to see what the stand is doing even though it is automatic, being able to return to the user from which it came whenever it wants.

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[FIGHTING THE MACHINE]: Super Strength / Super Durability / Super Resistance

This stand doesn't have an ability as such, however, its resistance, strength and speed are completely absurd. Anything that gets in its way can be destroyed with its fists, kicks or attacks. The user also has a fairly high resistance and strength, so between the two they form a quite deadly combination seeing that both the user and the stand are very tough.

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[THE BEATLES]: Song of Banishment

This stand doesn't have a manifestation as such, but rather it is a song that the user sings to cause effects around him. When the user sings, the effects of the stand begin to manifest in a fairly large radius affecting anyone who is around. This song has several effects and each one begins to manifest as the user gets closer to finishing:

1st verse: No visible effects

2nd verse: Total paralysis of the body and weakness in the legs.

3rd Verse: Permanent loss of smell

4th Verse: Permanent loss of vision.

5th Verse: Permanent loss of speech.

6th Verse: Permanent loss of hearing (This does not stop the effects of the song, but the only thing those affected will hear will be the song itself.)

7th Verse: Permanent loss of the sensation of touch

8th Verse: All effects above disappear for a few moments.

9th Verse: Those affected by the song are erased from existence.

During the song, any Stand user who attempts to use their Stand will have difficulty. Also, each affected individual will feel their body being covered by thousands of beetles.

The only way to escape the effects is to get out of range or get help from someone who is out of range. However, the loss of senses such as vision, smell, or speech that occurs during this stand are permanent. The user can stop the song at any time. The effects of this stand are irreversible.

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[MIRROR OF TEARS - ACT 1]: Intangibility

MOT can render the user intangible, making them capable of moving through different solid surfaces. This also includes any objects or clothing they are wearing, such as their sword. They can decide when to become tangible and when not. They can also render individual parts of their body intangible. Any attack that is not delivered by a Stand passes through the user, making them incapable of receiving physical damage. Pretty simple and direct, really. There is nothing more lol.

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[DON'T STOP ME NOW]: Future Jumping

As the name implies, DSMN can send things into the future up to a maximum of 30 minutes. Anything the user or their stand comes into contact with will jump forward in time. The user can choose how far into the future they can send them. This of course includes people and the user themselves. During the jump, the user and the stand can momentarily move in place to change position slightly. This is due to the training the user has had with their stand, but anyone else affected by this ability will not consciously perceive the time jump.

That will be all of them~ If anyone has a question about any of them, I'm open to answering them.

[2af-afterdark]

I think it's interesting that WHB made Satan a ranged fighter. I bet most would logically make him a melee fighter but then I remember they gave him a BFG(Big Fucking Gun) and I think that tracks too

I agree that the first assumption most people may have is that Satan should be more physical, hand-to-hand since he's wrath. There is something really satisfying about him being based in blood and distance though. Like, the whole idea that Satan never did his own dirty work, but used words and manipulation to convince others to do terrible things. Plus, you know, BIG FUCKING GUN go boom!

[holylulusworld]

BFG (5)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language, oral (fem rec), light fingering, dirty talk, smut, unprotected sex

A/N: Please consider that I do not follow the exact storyline of season one. Some characters known from the show may appear.

Catch up here: BFG (4)

BFG masterlist

“Reacher,” you helplessly press the palms of your hands against the shower wall. Reacher is still holding your body in a tight grip while his tongue swirls around your clit. He’s driving you crazy, always pushing you toward the edge, but refusing to let you topple over. “Fuck.”

“Shh…sweet peach pie. This is a special peach and I want to enjoy eating it,” he undoubtedly smirks against your overstimulated flesh while he murmurs the words. All you want is to cum all over his face, or fingers, or anything he offers to you but he won’t let you. “So pretty when you are in my arms.”

“Please-“ you blindly grasp for his short strands, tugging hard. “I want…your fingers.” As much as you love his mouth on you, his fingers are thick and long and you want nothing more than to feel Reacher explore your dripping cunt with his fingers. “Please…”

He looks up at you, eyes softening as you look back at him with need in your eyes, mirroring his own. It’s been a long time since he felt someone touch him gently. The only physical contact he had was during fights.

“Come here.” Again, you're shocked at how fast a man his size can move. You end up in his arms, your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waistline. 

One of his thick arms holds you against his body as he lifts his hand to show you his fingers. You bite your lower lip, desperate to hold back another moan. “Fingers or something bigger?”

“Fingers…” You try not to sound like a desperate and wounded animal when you whisper your answer. “I imagine having them inside of me…”

“I imagined putting my hands on you for being so cocky and flirty. You distracted me, peach pie.” Reacher dips his head to nip at your neck. “Do you know what you get yourself into when you let me have my way with you?”

“I hope to get you inside of me,” you challenge. “At least your fingers, big boy.”

“I’m not a boy, Y/N.” He warns. “If you want me, you’ll take all of me. Even if it’s too much. I won’t stop until you have all of me inside of your sweet peach pie.”

Your eyes round at his words. Who would’ve thought Reacher likes to talk dirty? “Do it, then. Ruin me, you beast of a man.”

“All for you,” he smirks. “Let go, I need to put you on your feet to play with your juicy peach.” 

He hums as you let go to allow him to place you on wobbling legs, admiring your wrecked state. He dips his head to look you up and down, making you feel self-conscious again.

The moment you try to cover yourself he’s back on you. “No, no. I want to see and have all of you.” You squeak as he hoists you back up to press you against the tile wall. “I have to have you, peach pie. I can’t wait any longer.”

His lips claim yours in a passionate kiss while his big hand moves between your legs. Reacher eagerly kisses you to distract you from his thick fingers slipping inside your slit. 

“Fuck,” you curse against his lips. “So…thick…”

“Yeah, peach pie,” Reacher nips at your lips, tongue forcing its way inside your mouth. He moans against you while curling his thick fingers. He slowly fucks you with his digits, smirking against your lips as you try to rock your hips. “Not yet, Y/N. You’ll cum on my cock only.”

“No—I,” you whine as he slips his fingers back out. He’s holding your body with one arm while moving his free hand to his cock. “Please.”

“I’ve been waiting to have you like this far too long,” he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “Open up to me, pretty peach pie. I want to feel it.”

You sling your arms tighter around his neck the moment Reacher pushes slowly into you. He’s thick, and you can barely hold still feeling this monster of a cock spear you open. 

You want to squirm and rock your hips but Reacher is so much stronger. He holds you against the wall and presses into you, slow but determined to fill you.

Your legs wrap tighter around his waistline, to hold tight onto him. You’re not used to a man who can hold you against a wall for such a long time and fear he’ll drop you if you get careless.

“Re-acher,” you wish you could see his cock, but it feels like you’re fuller than ever before when he finally bottoms out. “Fuck.”

“You’re doing so well for me,” his praise goes straight to your core. “So…so good, peach pie.” Reacher kisses you again while holding himself back to not rut into you like an animal. 

“You’re doing so well for me, big boy,” you grin. This godlike giant feels too good inside of your body to not be over the moon. “How about you move those perfect hips and make a girl cum.”

Reacher likes a challenge. He’s kissing you like he wants to devour you. You kiss him back, as eager as the man holding your body in his arms. 

He’s slowly grinding into you. His thick cock hits all the right spots, but having him pressed against you, feels even better. Both of you touch-starved, and lonely you get lost in the feel of each other. You cling to him, desperate for more than an orgasm. 

“Reacher,” you whisper against his lips. “I’m gonna…”

“Let go, sweet peach pie,” he nips at your lips. “I’ve got you.” His voice alone pushes you over the edge. You curse his name like a prayer as he stills his hips. He buries his face in your neck, your name on his lips when he comes.

“This bed is much bigger.” 

You giggle at Reacher’s comment. You left the bathroom for round two. Now you lie on your queen-sized bed, to come down from another high and to feel your legs again.

“You like it because it’s big enough for you,” you grin as he stretches his long legs out. “Can I ask you a question?”

Reacher rolls to his side to look at you. “You can ask me anything, Y/N.”

“Did you ever have sex in the backseat of a car,” you smirk at Reacher. “I mean, can you even have sex in a car? You’re huge.”

He laughs loudly and rolls onto his back. Reacher pats his chest, inviting you to rest your head on it. You yawn and follow his invitation to get a few hours of sleep before you go to the diner.

Sally Ann sniffles silently. She almost got hit by one of the bricks destroying all of your windows at the diner. “I’m sorry I didn’t see them. I was so scared and hid behind the counter.”

“Honey, you did the right thing,” you gently pat her shoulder. “I called the cops, okay. It’s not your fault some kids got bored and decided to destroy all of my windows.”

“What happened here?” Reacher came by to see you and have a slice of your pie. “Who did this?” He looks around the diner, frowning deeply when his eyes land on a brick, wrapped in a piece of paper. He picks the brick up and squares his jaw.

“I already called the cops,” you try to stop him, but Reacher is halfway out of the diner. “Reacher, don’t. He’s not worth it.”

You sigh, and chase after Reacher. He’s still holding the brick in his hands when he walks along the sidewalk to find KJ’s car parked outside the restaurant across the street. 

“Reacher!” You try to stop him again. “You’ll get in trouble!”

He stops in his tracks to look at the brick in his hands. He rereads the words written on the piece of paper wrapped around the brick again.

“He destroyed all of your windows and called you a slut. I won’t let him get away with it.”

“KJ is not the smartest, and he believes every woman must fall for him. His ego can’t take my rejection. It’s unbelievable to him that the chubby owner of the diner rejected him.”

“I want you to go home and let me handle this,” Reacher softly speaks to you. “You can’t work today, or until the windows are fixed. Sally Ann was scared to hell and back. They could’ve hit her.”

“Reacher,” you grab his hand to hold it for a moment. You look up at him, eyes drifting toward his lips. “You better come home tonight. I don’t want to sleep alone.”

He cups your face with one large hand to press his lips to yours.

“Promised…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

[dozing-composing]

do you have headcanons for Henchman 21 with a chubby reader? maybe some headcanons for him with a tall reader too? if you want to I mean.

Honey, I'll Always Be Down For Stuff Like This, You Don't Have To Worry If I Want To! Thanks For Requesting, This Made Me Smile Wide!

ᴛʜɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀʟʟ ᴡɪɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ...

Chubby!S/O: ✦ To be honest, I think he prefers his partner to be on the chubbier side. You being thick makes him go wild. He's mesmerized by your body. ✦ Treats you like the royalty you are. Whatever you want/need, he does it for you. He would do ANYTHING for you. ✦ He so would wrap his arms around your waist to give your tummy a lil' squish. Especially in the mornings when you're up making breakfast/coffee and he sneaks his way behind you and does it. ✦ He likes to bury his face in your chest and stomach. Don't get me started on how much he ADORES having his face being smooshed between your thighs, too. He'll sit under you while you're on the couch and he'll maneuver your legs on his shoulders and press them together around his head. ✦ He lets you "borrow" some of his clothes. He knows you steal them, but sometimes he'll leave something out on purpose for you to take. ✦ Loves to cook with you. You'll compare recipes with each other and learn a few things. Otherwise, you both will just team up and cook for fun, like combining dishes or making a meal based on a movie, etc. Tall!S/O: ✦ You crack a bunch of short jokes. He retaliates. ⤷ "How's the weather down there, shorty?" "I WILL CLIMB YOU LIKE A TREE!!!" ✦ He pouts a lot when you have to reach something for him. But in all honesty, he would rather have you get it just so he could watch you. You astonish him. ✦ You don't get cute little nicknames, no. He'll call you his not-so-little giraffe. His stick bug. The BFG. ....Alpine. They're all endearing in their own way, but c'mon Gary 💀  ✦ Seriously, though. He's the little spoon when you guys are snuggling up to each other. He loves to be encased in your limbs. ✦ He actually likes the fact that you have to bend down to kiss him. He just really likes the size difference. He'll look up at you and do that grabby-hand motion to initiate a hug or a kiss.  ✦ He'll want you to take pictures and selfies. You just "get the better angles." He has them stored in his closet as a keepsake. There's one he keeps in his wallet, where you hit him with a surprise kiss and his face is flushed because you had to crouch down a bit to do it.

[writeforfandoms]

Congrats my darling wifey for the follower milestone!!! I can’t believe your blog has grown so much!!!! 💛💛💛💛

Can we get a little blurb about Logan and Reader from BfG when she’s a teen? Like when she first says/expresses her love for Logan as the father-figure he is??

(P.S. I can’t stop thinking about Logan figuring out how to deal with teen reader and coming to love her as family 🥰🥰)

Babe you have no idea how excited I got when I saw this prompt. I had to run to my BFF and squee over this. Seriously. So so excited

Okay, let's take a peek at how these two did when she was a teen! Mwahaha

--

You groaned to yourself as you sprawled out on the floor. Two more weeks. Due to... extenuating circumstances, you had an extra long winter break.

And your current foster parents hadn't been prepared and had shoved you at Logan.

Logan was fine. Gruff. Kinda grumpy. But fine.

But you'd really just rather not be here.

"You up, kid?" Logan rapped on the doorframe. He, at least, let you keep the door closed if you wanted.

"If I say no will you go away?" You regretted the words a moment later but didn't take them back, not quite sure how to apologize.

He chuckled. "If that's what you want," he agreed peaceably, stepping away from the door as you watched.

"What did you want?" You sat up, gaze settling on his chin before you looked away.

He paused, looking down at you. "You up for a little adventure?"

You blinked at him. On the one hand, adventure sounded promising. On the other hand, that probably meant outside, and outside was fucking freezing. Literally.

But this was also the first time he'd asked.

"Sure," you agreed. "What do I need?"

He actually paused at that, considering. "Bring something warm," he said. "I'll be out front." He walked away, giving you space.

You dressed warmly, grabbing an extra beanie and scarf too. Just in case. You'd known Logan off and on for a couple years, since the shifter family had briefly taken you in as an emergency placement.

You knew him enough to trust that he wasn't going to murder you, at least.

Logan was indeed waiting for you out front, standing next to an ATV. You blinked at him before a little curl of excitement started in your gut.

"Ever driven one of these?" Logan patted the front of it.

"No," you breathed, excitement growing, gaze darting from him to the ATV and back again.

"I'll drive us out," Logan said before you could get too excited. "I know a spot."

You were quick to get on behind him, holding tight as he drove. It was chilly, but the sheer excitement kept some of that at bay.

The landscape was untouched and white as far as you could see. It was nothing like what you were used to, although you'd lived multiple places already.

"Is all this yours?" You couldn't keep the astonishment out of your tone, not that you tried very hard.

Logan chuffed a laugh. "Nah," he answered easily. "Got a bit o' land, but this is just open."

You nodded, peeking over his shoulder ahead of you. The land sloped gently down to a big, flat portion that had very few bushes.

Which was where Logan stopped and taught you how to drive the ATV.

It was cold and you managed to fall off into the snow once, to his great amusement. (You tolerated the amusement with only some embarrassment since you hadn't been hurt.) But it was also a lot of fun, and you found yourself grinning, happy at something so simple and yet so fun.

It was a feeling you hadn't had a lot of recently.

Finally, you stopped the ATV near Logan and stumbled off. He caught your shoulders, chuckling.

"Alright there, kid?" He asked, ducking his head briefly to look you in the eyes.

"Good," you agreed immediately before shivering. "Cold."

"Want hot cocoa?"

You perked up immediately, still shivering, shoulders hunching.

Logan chuckled and tugged you back to the ATV, driving the two of you back. You couldn't help but cuddle close for warmth.

Logan was as good as his word - as soon as you got back, he ushered you inside and started on hot cocoa. It was just instant stuff, but it was warm and Logan delivered it to you on the couch.

You slowly migrated across the couch, sipping your cocoa, until you were pressed up against his side. He looked briefly startled and then relaxed, his arm settling over your shoulders.

It was weird, but... a nice kind of weird. You could get used to this.