#knowing my boss I'll only get about half an hour to work on it anyway and then he'll make up another more urgent task

[six-of-ravens]

I haven't had a chance to work on this site all week, and now I do have time for it but my brain is so stuck in "can't work on that" mode that it's very difficult to convince it to work now.

[forsworned]

No One Noticed ft. Hesh Walker

Synopsis: Feeling lonely and disconnected, you find solace in an online gaming forum where you meet Hesh, a war veteran who secretly works as an elite member of the Ghosts task force. Despite Hesh's initial tough exterior, he's soft for you and bonds through shared gaming experiences, late-night texts, and calls. Eager to bring their digital connection into the real world, You're convinced by your newfound virtual love to fly to his city to explore a potential relationship. Will your connection flourish or go to shit?

Warnings: Canon Game Violence, Canon Violence, Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Sexting, PnV sex, Cunninglingus, Blowjob, 9.8k words

Author's note: This song makes me so emotional and who better to write this for than my love, Hesh

If you could change anything, it would be your soul-sucking day job. Typing away at transcripts behind your desk is tedious, mind-numbing, and downright exhausting. You glance at the clock—it finally reads 4:30PM. A sigh of relief escapes you as you save your work and close the tab. The hum of your old office lamp and the clatter of your keyboard are the only sounds breaking the monotony. Your eyes ache from the screen's glare, and the cold air in the office makes the warmth of your couch even more inviting.

Ping!

The chat pop-up lights up your dim screen, and you feel a sudden rush of serotonin.

MyDawgRiley99: Your day been as shitty as mine?

A soft laugh escapes you as you read his message. Since joining a gaming lobby with a group of military guys during a late-night Fortnite session, you've found yourself playing with them almost every time they invite you. You never really pried into their daily lives; you were just looking to unwind. And yet, some nights, one of them would linger after the others had logged off, not to play, but simply to talk and unwind.

And over time, you began to savor the sound of his voice, finding comfort in its deep, resonant tone. You bite your bottom lip before typing away at your keyboard:

CtrlFreak: Seems like we're both in the trenches today.

As you're about to close out the tab, his reply bubble immediately appears, and you feel your spirits lift.

MyDawgRiley99: Long day at the office?

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe you’re sharing too much with someone you’ve only met online, but you think to yourself, If he's half as sexy as he sounds, it should be okay, right? Right??

CtrlFreak: Like you wouldn't believe. I'm two seconds away from losing it.

MyDawgRiley99: Well, let's try to fix that. Same time?

You glance at your stack of requests and exhale sharply. Falling behind on deadlines and getting chewed out by your boss isn't your idea of relaxation, but for one night, just one freakin' night...

CtrlFreak: I really shouldn't...

MyDawgRiley99: Just one match?

You snort softly. You know what that means. One match turns into five, with hours of talking in between while you sit in the lobby. Sometimes, others join, and it’s nothing but a constant roast session that leaves you craving more genuine human interaction. It’s a vicious cycle.

CtrlFreak: I'll think about it. MyDawgRiley99: Haha, I'll be waiting for ya.

You shut your laptop and press your forehead against the warm alloy. The constant burnout of your job leaves you unfocused, fatigued, and jittery from all the espresso shots you need just to stay awake.

But you decide to join anyway. He immediately joins your party the moment you load into the lobby.

"Almost thought you wouldn't hop on tonight." His voice comes through your headset, instantly relaxing you.

The corners of your lips curl into a smile. "What can I say? You've tempted me."

He chuckles, and it's flirty, light, fun, and easy. In this moment, you want nothing more than to relish the escapism that comes from the unknown soldier on the other side of your screen. Amidst your grueling workday, his voice is like a coolness that soothes your burning heart, pulling you from the depths of mundanity into a world where conversation flows as smoothly as his laughter.

You tap on your controller, trying to control the strange desire stirring within you. You have no idea what he looks like—or what any of them look like, really.

Truthfully, you never bothered to ask for names. You referred to each other by the first initial of your real names. His being 'H.'

"You wanna talk about it?" The sound of him munching on chips comes through the speaker, causing you both to laugh. "My bad."

"All good. Nah, I'm just burned out." You readjust yourself on your sofa and lean back against the cushion, closing your eyes as you savor the sound of his smooth tenor.

"I get that. Trust me."

You feel that smile returning. "Right, right."

"Well," he begins, playfully defensive at your casual dismissal. "I'm just sayin'—"

Your laughter echoes through the headset, and he sighs, the smile on his face growing at your teasing. "Always gettin’ me worked up."

"You fall for it every time." You retort. Your mirth fades, and it's quiet for a moment. You tap at your controller again, playing with the joystick as your heart begins to race. There's almost a need to ask him to reveal himself to you. After all those nights dreaming about him, you find yourself yearning to know what he looks like.

"So," he clears his throat, shaking you out of your mild daze. "um, I don't want you to feel like you have to, but..."

You sit up a bit, feeling your throat go dry at his sudden change in tone. You can literally feel the tension through the connection.

"Well, I'm just kind of curious about, you know," his voice holds hesitation, an eagerness to pry. It creates a charged silence between you. The playful teasing shifts into something more earnest, and you can almost hear the curiosity in his tone as he tries to find the right words.

"Uh huh," you playfully taunt. You can tell where this is going, and you can't help but feel exhilarated at the thought of finally knowing what he looks like.

He chuckles, and it sends a thrill up your spine. "Uhhhh," he awkwardly laughs again, and you join in. The smile on your lips stretches broadly across your face, making your cheeks sore.

"I mean, we've been talking on here for months, so I'm just curious about how you look, you know?" He sighs. "Aren't you?"

You giggle at the apprehensiveness in his voice. "Seems like it's been weighing on your mind."

"Something like that." He clears his throat. "Obviously, it can stay this way. No pressure."

You scratch your head, feeling trepidation seeping into your bones. It isn't a now-or-never moment. You could simply say no or maybe another time, but you feel this irresistible pull from him. You think that even if he isn't the most attractive guy, it's not the end of the world...

"Okay." You simply say.

"Really!?" He exclaims, and you laugh at his enthusiasm. It's endearing, really. It's the lack of a social life that's really doing it for you. You think that maybe if you started going on Hinge again, you wouldn't have this problem of getting emotionally attached to men in Fortnite lobbies. But all of that falls into the back of your mind as you return to the present.

You're a bit tentative, but the words naturally come out. "Sure, I'm curious too." You breathe out, fiddling with the wire of your headphones between your fingers. There are dents from the hours you’ve spent on your console, talking to him during the late hours of the night.

"Yeah?" The way he says it sends a thrill up your spine again. You just know this man is sexy. Dammit.

"Yeah." You reply, almost reluctantly, as you walk over to your desktop and pull up your Discord server. Your cursor hovers over the video chat button, but he pings himself in, and you reflexively close the tab.

"What the fuck?" He laughs, and you crumble at his reaction, hiding your face in your hands.

Your heart pounds as you feel warmth crawl into your cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

He's still laughing at your reaction. You can't tell if it's because he thinks it's funny how quickly you exited or if he finds you as endearing as you find him.

"Are you shy?" He asks, still chuckling. You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer immediately. It's been far too long since you've been in the dating scene, and you’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of face-to-face flirting, reading the micro-expressions of the person across from you. To you, it was like a game—analyzing the strain on their face when you talk about your interests instead of your kinks, the bounce of their thighs when you're not throwing back sexual banter, or the way you check to see if they bear their teeth at you when they smile. It was easier knowing he was just a voice, but now it seems like he's reeling you in for more, and you find yourself struggling to say no.

You didn't want to deal with the high highs and the low lows anymore. The boring simplicity of a quiet relationship is what you craved, but a military man? That's tumultuous, grueling even. You didn't want to go back to nights of crying yourself to sleep over a man who refused to take your calls or reply to your texts because of their emotional distance and lack of therapy. But you're craving attention, and he's so willing to give it to you.

You groan at his reaction. "Fine," you grumble as you open the chat again and nibble your lip, lingering over the tab that shows he's active.

"No pressure," he teases, a hint of mischief in his tone. It's daring, and you’re no coward. You click the tab, joining the video call, and your heart races as you wait for it to load, stripping off your headset.

And then there he is, swaying in his gaming chair, his face lighting up when you enter the call.

"Oh shit," he grins, and you cover your mouth to hide the joy in your expression because he's fucking hot. The grittiness of the webcam blurs his handsome features, but you can still make out the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his viridian eyes, and the darkness of his short-cropped hair. He strokes the stubble on his cheeks, not even bothering to hide his obvious attraction. He's brunette, rugged, and attractive enough to make you want to buy a lottery ticket because you can't believe your luck. "What's up, girl?”

You feel the color drain from your face at his tone, and you quickly wave in the most awkward fashion. He looks even more amused. You realize you're not used to being looked at this way by men, and your shyness catches him off guard. "What's the matter?"

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer, fiddling with the wire again. The momentary distraction of your desk lamp is all that keeps you from looking at him directly.

"Come on, don't be shy now," he coos, smiling so widely that it almost makes you want to melt into your chair.

You stare at the small thumbnail of yourself on the screen, feeling somewhat more exposed than you're used to. After a few seconds, you finally allow yourself to look at him again.

"I don't know," you laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, and you catch a glimpse of his dimples. "What were you expecting, then?"

"An ogre," you joke.

He throws his head back, laughing. "Damn, you really had no faith in me." he jokes back, and you're both nervously giggling at your first video chat. It’s awkward in all the right ways. The tension between you increases, but it’s different now. The curtain of anonymity you both sought on this platform has been lifted.

You shake your head, still bashful from his handsomeness. It irritates you. One hot guy gives you attention, and you're falling to your knees.

"Not one bit." You tuck your lips into your mouth, and he leans his chin on his palm, admiring the details of your face. You're just not ready to admit your attraction yet. You’d rather let it linger in the air, maybe make him pine for your compliments.

There's another pause as the playful banter fades into a softer, more charged silence. The tension hangs in the air, neither of you quite sure what to say next. You chew your lip, still somewhat unsure of how you want this to go. But before you can overthink it, he speaks up again.

"So... maybe we could meet up sometime?" His voice is tentative, like he's not quite ready for your answer.

You blink, taken aback. "Oh, um," you bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your shoulders. "That sounds cool."

His smile widens, and there's something almost boyish in his excitement. "Yeah?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile. "Yeah."

"Alright then," he grins. "Let's see where this goes."

He sways in his chair again and grins. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

And that’s the start of long conversations over the phone—your actual phone—after he asks for your number, and you coyly give it to him. More often than not, he's testing the limits of your humor with dark memes, sending you selfies and mirror pics in his uniform that you shamelessly drool over, and FaceTiming you during his night shifts to keep him company while you sprawl out on your bed.

In his downtime, he shamelessly fists at his dick at the mere thought of you. Those pretty lips on his leaking tip, licking up the precum that oozes out and coats the plushness of your flesh. He wonders how you taste, what makes you moan, because at this point it’s obvious you’re both really into each other. Neither of you wants to break the ice—you simply enjoy the flirting and the cutesy banter. He loves the way you giggle at his stupid jokes and how you seem to show a little more skin the more calls you have.

Like when you get up from your seat, and instead of wearing your usual sweats, you’re now sporting a pair of curve-hugging plaid shorts and a flimsy tank top with straps that are always slipping off your shoulders. And it’s painfully obvious when he flares his nose playfully at you and glances away. Maybe there’s a subtle gesture of him adjusting himself, and you throw your head back, not bothering to hide the delight in your laughter.

"You know what you're doing," he quips, drumming his fingers on his work table.

You lean back in your chair and fiddle with the squishy cactus stress toy, stretching out the arms and letting them go with a pop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," you chime with a giggle.

His eyes fall on your braless figure, cleavage spilling out of the V-shaped collar, tracing the outline of your nipples that peak through the sheer fabric.

"Yes, you do," he insists, gripping the hem of his compression shorts as they strain against his throbbing dick.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye. "And what's that?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Being a sexy little vixen." His eyes roam your body again, and you hide your burning face. God, his directness was always so sexy to you. He never bothered to hide the way he felt. Especially when he would heart every selfie you sent him, throwing praises your way like you were the only woman in the world.

"You're not foolin’ me," he presses on, grabbing his planner and clicking his pen as he begins to jot something down.

Your curiosity piques. "What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" He provocatively glances up at you. "I’m writing down the dates that I’m off."

"For?"

"When I meet you."

Your eyes widen at his boldness, and a shy smile graces your lips. "Meet me?" Your heart picks up its rhythm, and you’re trying your hardest not to get too giddy about it.

He taps his metal pen against the paper, leans back in his chair, and licks his lips. "Is that a problem?"

You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about meeting you. Fuck, he looks so damn edible when he manspreads, looking nonchalant and relaxed. He can sense your yearning but also your hesitation.

He leans forward again, sincerity coming easy to him. "Look," he begins, wanting to comfort you, to assure you he won’t take advantage of you, but he knows it’s a privilege to be in your presence.

"I know you’ve probably heard this a million times: 'You won’t get hurt, you can trust me.' And I know it’s an absolute luxury to even exist alongside you."

That makes you blush. It’s so easy to tell that he was raised right.

"But this," he gestures between the two of you, "I want to know if it’s real. There’s only so much I can tell from behind a screen."

You understand what he means. The essence of a person—their aura, their charisma—is so much more tangible and real when you meet them in person. Seeing their quirks, their habits, feeling their energy. It’s different.

"I know you know what I mean."

You nod. "I do." You lick your lips, searching for the right response. There’s really no doubt in your mind that you want to meet him. I mean, for God's sake, he's mouthwatering. The way his abs peek out from under his loose shirt when he stretches, the playful way he flexes his taut biceps, his calloused hands hardened from war and long hours at the gym. He's just delectable all around.

But are you willing to take the leap?

Somehow, you're still asking yourself that as you peer out the window of the airplane. Your ticket is paid for—first class, with all the accommodations…it’s like a dream.

The landscape below is a patchwork of rebuilt cities and scarred land, signs of a world that has been through hell but is clawing its way back.You can’t help but wonder if this is a glimpse into the future you’re stepping into. A life beyond the screen, in a world where the remnants of war are slowly being overtaken by new growth, where hope is becoming tangible again.

The plane touches down smoothly on a newly restored runway, and as you step into the terminal, you’re greeted by the sight of soldiers, workers, and civilians mingling in a place that once might have been a warzone. Your heart races with anticipation, nervousness, and a hint of something deeper. This isn’t just about meeting him—it’s about stepping into a world that both of you are trying to find your place in.

He’s waiting for you just outside the baggage claim, leaning casually against a pillar. The grittiness of the webcam is replaced by the crisp reality of his presence. The sharpness of his jawline, the vividness of his eyes, and the way his uniform fits him perfectly—it all hits you at once. You realize that you weren’t fully prepared for how striking he’d be in person.

The moment stretches between you, just like it did during your video calls, but now there’s no screen to hide behind. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. And then, with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine, he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower and more resonant in person, sending a thrill through you.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but the way your voice trembles gives you away.

His grin widens, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch is electric, sending sparks through your body. He notices the way you react and chuckles softly, not even trying to hide his satisfaction.

“You’re just as pretty as I imagined,” he says, his bluntness making your cheeks heat up.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you manage to tease, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He laughs, a sound that’s warm and genuine, and it eases some of the tension between you. He leans into you, enveloping you into a warm embrace and you easily return it as you snake your arms around his neck. The smell of his aftershave engulfs your senses and you relax into his touch. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, withdrawing from you to grab your bag effortlessly as he leads you toward the exit.

Outside, the air is fresher than you expected, a sign that nature is beginning to reclaim the earth. The city around you is a mix of new constructions and old ruins. It’s almost nothing like the California you remember. He leads you to a sleek, black SUV and opens the passenger door for you.

As you settle into your seat, you glance at him as he climbs in, feeling a mix of emotions. This is the man you’ve spent hours talking to, flirting with, and getting to know through a screen. Now he’s here, real and tangible, and the chemistry between you is undeniable.

He catches you staring and smirks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft but with an edge of excitement.

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yeah,” you nervously avert your gaze and nod. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hesh nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “So, here’s the plan,” He hands you the aux cord. And you grin as you take it from him. “We’re gonna head back to the base,”

He sees you visibly stiffen. “But,” And you raise your brows waiting for him to continue. “We’re going back to my place after we check you in.”

You let out a sigh of relief and he laughs, as he watches you plug your phone in and shake your head. 

“Come on, you know that I live off base.” Hesh occasionally glances over at you, as if making sure you’re comfortable while you shuffle through your playlist. He seems to be the picture of calm, but you can sense the underlying tension that lingers between you two.

You say nothing and end up settling on a song you both love (mostly you).

You should stay real close to Jesus Keep that bottle at your hand, my man

He chuckles at your pick, and reaches over to hold your hand. A wave of comfort washes over you. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m Lana coded for the hundredth time.”

You giggle at him and sit up a bit. “You are!”

He shakes his head and lets the song play, humming along to the tune and you’re actively burning it into your mind. It’s something you want to remember every detail of. The way he squeezes your hand while the other is on his steering wheel, tapping his finger at the steering wheel. How thick his dark lashes are, how pretty his viridian hues are when they peek over at you to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination.

As you approach the base, the outer level is a standard Marine military facility, with its usual array of buildings and vehicles. It’s not completely unknown to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been on a military base. Military personnel pinlines the large metal gate and one of the guards approaches the vehicle as Hesh fishes out his ID.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Hesh says as you pull up to the guard. “I’ll have to check you in at the visitor’s center first. They don’t let civilians past this point without clearance.”

You nod, trying to hide your nerves as he pulls into a parking lot near the visitor’s center. He senses your apprehension and turns fully to you, gently grasping your hand. “Hey,” He reaches out to cup your chin, and your breath catches in your throat. His earthy green eyes are trained on you. “God, you’re so pretty.” His fingers gently trace your chin, and you fluster under his fixed gaze. “We’re gonna be outta here in no time, and we’ll spend the whole week together, m’kay?”

“Okay.” You squeeze his hand back, and he brings your wrist to his lips, placing a yearning kiss to your skin. It feels as if it were searing to the touch.

Hesh escorts you into the visitor center, a space designed for civilians to wait while military personnel handle their business. He gives you a reassuring smile before heading to the more secure parts of the base. You watch as he disappears into the maze of corridors, leaving you with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

After what feels like an eternity, Hesh returns, his face relaxed and his eyes bright. “All set,” he says, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

You take his hand, and he leads you back to the SUV. The tension between you two is almost palpable, but it’s softened by the warmth of his touch and the promise of time together away from the base.

The scenery changes to one of a regular suburban neighborhood.  From the white picket fences to the restaurants that line the streets to the long lines of cypress and palm trees, you wouldn’t even know the difference. 

“Oh my God, there’s a Taco Bell!” You point out and Hesh laughs at the incredulousness in your tone. 

“Yeah, it’s like any other cookie cutter neighborhood.” He turns into a cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of the biggest home on the block. It’s a mediterranean style home, classic red roof tiles, a stucco exterior with metal work accents. There’s personal touches of greenery, succulents in various sized terracotta pots, a handful of olive trees and wildflowers that maze around the stone path. 

“This is cookie cutter!?” You exclaim, as he helps you out of the vehicle. “You have a sweet crib.”

He smirks at you, carrying your suitcase with one hand and your hand in the other. “Just wait til you see the inside.”

And somehow the interior is much more obnoxiously cozy and earthy. It’s truly a delight to be in a home where beachy tones of seafoam green, turquoise and cerulean are the main color scheme. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation. 

“...and if you’re really down, we can go to the beach…[name]?” He calls out to you and your wandering eyes land back on him. He grins at you, closing the space between you two. “You listenin’?”

“Not really,” You shamelessly admit. “Your place is lovely. Like something out of a magazine.”

He chuckles as he moves past you to climb up the winding staircase with your carry-on and suitcase. “Play your cards right, and this could be yours, too.”

You turn around ripping out of your stupor, “Huh?”

“Nothin’.” He softly snorts, and you follow him the stairs as he shows you to his room. He gives you the option of the guest bedroom or his. You notice little things around the home that paths the walls, small trinkets, memorabilia and photo frames of family members. It all looks different in person, even if he’s given you a house tour over FaceTime.

Peeking into his room, you notice how everything is neatly organized, band posters of Creed, Papa Roach and the like are hung up on his forest green walls. A diffuser runs on his nightstand and it smells like something between sandalwood and amber vanilla. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to make you feel homey.

“Your room.” You smile at him, and he’s more than eager to please. The conversation flows just as easy as it does in person, even as you tell him to turn around while you strip down to get into your bikini.

He promised you all the beach time you could get, and despite the minor jetlag that nags at your slightly foggy mind, you were in the mood to sunbathe. Bonus that you get to show off your summer bod and Hesh is more than willing to peel off his shirt for some much needed skin-to-skin. Even if he can just wrap his taut, tanned arm around your waist to claim you, he’s just happy to be in your company.  

“So, what about the others?” you cock a brow at him, as he flagrantly eyes your figure while you build a sandcastle.

He shakes his head and scoffs, viridian hues trailing down the exposed parts of your skin. “Others?”

You tuck your finger under his chin, signaling for him to look at you and not ogle your body. “Yeah, your other teammates that we play with?”

“Oh right…” He gets lost in your eyes and the way they softly crinkle when you smile, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter and he can’t help but to laugh with you. “They don’t need to know you’re here. Besides, they’re preoccupied.”

You tilt your head. “With?”

He pauses. There’s vacillation behind the earthiness of his eyes. A certain type of secrecy that goes beyond the typical confidentiality that comes with being in the military. “Just stuff.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, not wanting to interrogate him. In the past, he had mentioned that a lot of the things he does out in the field require the utmost discretion and you’re not one to scruple around and find out.

You’d done enough research and background checks to know that he was a military brat, a veteran, has a dog named Riley (whom he misses terribly, but had to go on an op with his brother, Logan), and is oddly passionate about sourdough starters. He’s always open to answering your questions that don’t revolve around his work, which again you’re not entitled to know but you couldn’t say you weren’t the least bit intrigued.

The rest of the day plays out like a dream. Not a single one of your vivid, maladaptive daydreams could touch this. From the way he carries you to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and you cling to him with sea salt in your hair to the way your first kiss sends a thrill of pure electricity up your spine as the sunsets. His lips are soft, plush and salty from the water, and his fingers and hands are as calloused and rough as you had imagined them.

And you literally can’t get enough of him. Especially when he just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Seriously, like you need a crowbar to pry them off because he’s attached to the hip. Of course, he lets you go when you need to rinse off the beach from your skin in his shower, but he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Your wet, naked untouched body just standing under his enclosure he’s installed in the backyard like you’re waiting to be ravaged by him. 

Because dammit that’s what you want. To have him slip in, wrap his strong arms around your waist, pebbling your nipples between his fingertips as he kisses at your neck and bends you over--

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna wait here for as long as you need.” He sarcastically remarks over the sound of the running water. You giggle at the playfulness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ll take all night, baby.” You scrub at your skin with the loofa he gave you, watching as the soap becomes sudsy white foam that covers your body. And he accidentally gets a glimpse through the cracks in the bamboo casting and--Lord have mercy on his soul. If it weren’t for the body wash he’d given you from earlier, you’d be all exposed to him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He mutters, sitting on the nearby bench just outside of the shower, fiddling with his drawstrings of his swimming trunks. It’s a failed attempt at trying to quell his dirty thoughts of you and keep his wandering eyes away from the little opening he can see you through.

You swallow thickly as you exfoliate your back, but your arms are sore from trying to get back into shape before meeting with him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to propose…

“You wanna wash my back for me?”

There’s a pause. The weight of your words and the heavy silence is agonizing, leaving you in regret and pre-dejection. 

“You sure?” He says a bit too quietly, and you hear the sound of his feet shifting against the sandstone. 

You lick your lips and nod. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to…”

He chuckles, “don’t have to ask me twice.” And you hear the scuffling of his feet hitting the grit of the sandy covered stone floor. You hold your breath as he pads on the bamboo panels over to you, and you hear the distinct sharp inhale the moment he gets a full glimpse of you. You feel your shyness overcome you knowing you are now completely bare to him, but the sound of his wet swimming trunks being casted to the side makes you flinch. 

His warmth and his scent casts a shadow over your mind as he envelops you with his arms, taking the soapy loofa from your hands. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest as your shaky breaths mingle for a bit, but the bristles scrub at your upper and lower back preoccupy your mind. You can feel how he squeezes the soap down the swell of your ass and gets to work again.

“I said, my back.” You susurrate, half turning to him and he smirks. 

“My bad, should I stop?” He presses his lips against your shoulder and peeks up at you with dampened dark lashes. You shudder at his touch. It had been long, too long. His touch is making the pyre in your lower belly ignite and you can’t help but lean your weight against him, exposing your neck to him. “I need you to use your words, sweetheart…”

You whine at his pressing need for verbal confirmation. “No, don’t stop.” He hums against your skin and he gently exfoliates over the peaks of your breast, concentrating on how they pebble under his touch. He experimentally thumbs over the hardened bud, tweaking it between his fingers as he kisses the sweet spots on your neck. It’s a pleasurable feeling that leaves you tingly and throbbing. 

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your ass and you gently brush your fingers against it, and he reflexively bucks his hips. “Eager, are we?”

“I could say the same for you!” You chirp, and his laughter reverberates against your back. He gently takes your chin to face him, and he glances down at your flustered gaze before softly latching his lips to yours. His hands, however, do not stop moving. They’re roaming over the expanse of your breast, squeezing at your thighs as he continues to kiss and squeeze you. 

It’s fucking hot the way he can’t help but intermingle his moans with you, whispering your name as he finally slips his fingers between your thighs. And you glance up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips parted and scrunched brows. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He’s totally melting under your fervent gaze, and the sweet, sweet feeling of your velvety folds against the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Oh, fuck…David…” You gasp, lolling your eyes to the back of your skull. His dick isn’t even in you yet and yet, his fingers are doing more for you than any other man. It’s so easy for him to work both of his fingers into you as he uses his palm to rub at your clit.

“My God, you are so wet.” He croaks, thrusting his fingers into you, past your g-spot and to press against your cervix and you collapse against him when you feel your orgasm practically jump you. He feels you spasm against him, walls fluttering against his fingers and presses his lips against yours again, taking in every one of your little moans and gasps. 

And after you’ve caught your breath, there’s a flash of amusement that takes over his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d cum so quickly.” He tenderly kisses your shoulder, and then your cheek and up to your hair. You feel your cheeks burn, silently cursing him for his agile fingers, but the humiliation is over in seconds when you turn your body to press flush against his. 

The kiss is electrifying, adrenaline shoots through you and you’re craving more and more of him. His lips part from yours for an instant and he tucks the dampened strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not everything all at once, sweetheart.” He grins, and your jaw slightly drops at his taunting. He bites his lips at the disbelief in your expression. He wants to ensure that you know that he’s not in it for the quick fuck, that you’re more than that to him. That he’s more than happy to please you, but the sex part. He wants to wait a little. Make sure that you’re really comfortable and you’re not feeling like you’re being coerced into it. 

You sigh as you surf through the 1000s of channels he has on 70 inch plasma screen TV while he takes a long ass piss. Like seriously, this man drinks water by the gallon. But you’re content. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, clad in his Nike hoodie that sits oversized on your body and he’s quietly admiring you from the bathroom door way.  He’s wondering how he got so damn lucky. 

He silently treks over to where you’re perched over the bed, and squats in between your legs, snaking his strong arms against you. His eyes hold an earnest expression, “I can’t believe we met over a Fortnite lobby.”

And that causes you to giggle and rehash all the late night matches you’ve had together, how he’s listened to you pour your heart out to him about all of your troubles and even Venmo’d you a handful of times out of the kindness of his heart.

He watches how your eyes droop, and how any minute you’re about to knock out cold. And soon he’s ushering you under the covers, snug as a bug under his cotton-linen sheets. He joins you from behind, the scent of you is overwhelming and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. The floral, musky scent of your shampoo is interwoven into your hair paired with your soft snores, easily helping him drift into a deep sleep. 

And when you wake up in the morning it still doesn’t settle in. Not when you wake up to him sleepily rubbing his eyes and peering up at you with that damn grin of his, not when you’re beside him brushing your teeth over his sink and definitely not when you’re sitting across from him on the kitchen bar as he makes you breakfast with nothing but his grey sweats barely hanging off his hips.

It’s cute. The way you two feed each other pancakes and eggs, and how you share the equal feeling of bafflement when you’re facing each other, unable to undo the heap of twisted limbs. Despite his lack of interest in having you meet his teammates yesterday, he wants nothing more than to show you off. In fact, that’s all he does when he’s holding your hand out in the shopping area, buying you anything you happen to say is cute or that you try on that’s very much to his liking. 

He’s getting stopped by soldiers who are also meandering through the streets of San Diego and word gets around fast because soon the crew knew about your sudden appearance all over his Instagram story and the group chat is poppin'.

Logan: No way you flew her out here… Keegan: Kids’, got balls Merrick: I’ll have a word with you when we get back Kick: Wait…who is this again?

“I’m assuming they’re taking it well?” 

He hears your musing voice, and he tears away his gaze from his phone screen to look at you with a beguiled expression. He can’t help but be giddy, as he watches you pad over to him in nothing but his t-shirt, coffee in hand as you take your seat in his lap like it’s reserved just for you. And it feels so natural to have you in his arms like this. You fit so perfectly against him and he’s having to dent his skin with half crescents in an effort to ensure he’s not dreaming.

But reality strikes at you again when you realize that even though you are on vacation, you’re still getting email notifications of transcript requests nearing their deadlines. Your mood shifts and he peeks over at your phone screen, taking your hand in his as he brushes the hair from your face. 

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?”

And that single question is enough to ignite the balmy feeling between your thighs. Your lips instantly find his as you straddle his lap on the love seat, and a small sound of surprise followed by pleasure emits from him, soon finding themselves latching to the side of his throat and he’s threading his fingers through your hair. 

You find yourself returning the favor, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as your tug at his hardened cock. Vulgarities skid past his mouth as he tries his damned best to fixate those pretty green eyes on you, but they right open when he sees you’ve settled between his thighs. Your plush lips against his aching, swollen tip. 

A groan leaves his lips as you do nothing but tease him with the tip of your tongue before taking him wholly into your mouth, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. He wants to have experienced you fully. So he’s lifting you off the carpet and laying you on the cushion, spreading you wide and dick throbs at your glistening pussy before immersing himself in it. And God, his tongue is as heavenly as his fingers are. He’s not shy at all when it comes to lapping you up like it’s his last meal, shaking you out so he can get even more of you. 

The sounds of his slurping are loud and lewd, humming against your clit right before he inserts his fingers into you and you’re quick to ride out your climax, grabbing at the short dark locks of his hair as you grind against his lips. He doesn’t even move off of you, the sensation of you writhing beneath him as you try to pry him off arouses him, but he obliges when you begin to whine. 

He lets go with a pop, your arousal drips down his chin and you welcome him back with a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he pushes you further down onto the couch. You don’t want to stop, you crave him far too much in this instance to halt his actions. Especially when you’re realizing that he’s naked now, and you’re left in only his shirt. But his fingers are dancing over your stomach, reflexively dipping in at his touch until he gets to the peaks of your breasts. 

The fabric lifts off your body and he takes you in. “You’re seriously so stunning, [name].”

You like that he says your name. Not just some generic pet name like baby, or babe. It means something to you, to him. That you’re not just an object for his sexual gratification and you liked that.

You instantly fluster under his gaze, pupils blown leaving only the remnants of his sage green eyes. “Thank you.” You finally muster up the words after what feeling like forever. He rips his gaze from you and the thought finally comes to him. “Um,” He eyes flicker toward the staircase and then at you. “Upstairs.”

“Right.” 

--

You chew on your lip and the anticipation builds between you as he takes your hand and leads you upstairs, giggling as you scoot on his cool bed sheets, and you feel the warmth of his hard body against yours. He leans over to his nightstand and it feels like a millennia before he fishes out a condom. You peek over to look at the box and the receipt is still attached to it, brand new which explains why he was fiddling with the cardboard for so long.

“Just for me?” You chime and he pokes his tongue in his cheek, trying to hold back his grin while he tears open the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his hardened length. His forearms are on either side of your head.

“You think I’m just out here layin’ pipe? Of course I just bought them.” He bashfully scratches his neck and you can’t help but laugh at his sheepish grin. You lift your head and cup his stubbly cheeks to bring him into a fiery kiss and he quickly returns it, feeling his cocking enfolding at your entrance. 

You gasp at the way his length brushes against your weepy folds. “Please.” You murmur between kisses and he dithers for a second, searching your expression for any hint of uncertainty. But you’re all there, determined and in desperate need for his touch. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and you frantically nod. He chuckles at your insistence and he aligns himself with your sopping core, gently prodding into you until he bottom’s out and you’re both already gasping. The saccharine feeling of being filled up is unmatched, especially when the guy that’s in you is the one you’ve been dreaming about for months. 

And you don’t want him to go slow. No, that doesn’t feel like an option right now. Not after how long you feel like you’ve waited for this moment. Overwrought with desire, your fingers dig into the supple flesh of his ass and he lets out a broken whimper in the form of your name. And he seems to get the hint because he’s quickly ramming into you, your hips connect in a frenetic manner, but it’s so so so good. 

His viridian eyes are reaming at the sight of your dulcet features quickly melting into a lewd expression and milky moans that spill out from your lips. He kisses you haphazardly wanting nothing more but to make you cum and trust that you’re nearly there. He’s hitting all the right places and his lower abdomen is rubbing your puffy clit in just the right way. 

One hand on your hip and the other makes its way to wrap around your throat and, oh God, that look in his eyes and you’re totally done for. His name is clawing its way out from your throat as you feel the maddening rolls of passion drowning your soul with rapture, exposing your neck as you swell with a sigh and falter with a shudder that cascades up and down your body. Kiss after blissful kiss and Hesh feels every ripple in your body. It’s the catalyst of his peak, breaking under the pressure of your pulsating walls and convulsing body. 

It’s the warmth of your neck as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, your strangled cries, your labored breaths that make it feel like his orgasm was flaring red, white and blue. You watch in awe as all the dewy green in his eyes fall golden like little stars in the sunlight peeking through his blinds. You’re both panting, melting into each other, and laughter spills from your lips as you hold one another closely. And the adoration seeps out of his bones when he notices that he’s springing back to life and you’re quick to respond to his passion.

And you don’t even know how many hours it’s been. Between refueling breaks and trips to the bathroom, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other. You begin to lose count of all the positions he’s putting you in, but you know one thing for sure--it’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning.

Hesh can hardly shake you awake. You’re all wrapped up in his arms, sharing the same covers and he breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck not wanting to move from your cozy position. He stares at the ceiling, counting the stars he’s placed in the form of all the constellations he knows. Holding you like this and feeling the warmth constantly spread through his chest when he takes a little peek at you. It’s driving him nuts. 

If he were being honest with you right now, he’d say that he’s done searching. That he’s found the one. But of course, he knows that you’re accustomed to the 1-2, hit-and-run, cum-and-go lowly standard of men who have fed you the same bullshit, so he reserves on that. 

Your eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile stretches across your cute features, and he brushes away the strays to gather as much of your visage that he can. 

“Sleep well?”

“I slept amazing.” You stretch your limbs like a cat down to the spread of your toes, but you feel the dull ache in your muscles and groan. “You must’ve put me in every position imaginable.”

A repentant smile plays on his lips as the warmth sidles into his cheeks. “You never complained.”

“Shut up.” You mimp, and he chuckles at the way you purse your lips and puff your cheeks at him. 

Hesh's heart tightens as he watches how your face contorts into one of sadness, the reality of your limited time together gnaws at the both of you. You wish that you could both freeze this moment—just you, him, and the quiet morning light filtering through the linen curtains. But time, as always, marches on, and soon enough, the outside world will come knocking and you’ll have to go back to your boring desk job and he’ll have to go back on his confidential ops.

"You know," he begins, his voice soft, "we've still got a few more days. How about we make the most of them?"

Your eyes meet his, and there's a flicker of understanding. You both know that this time together is precious, and neither of you wants to waste a single second. The romance between you two is budding rapidly and you want nothing more than to cling to him, getting lost in the small blip of time that you will forever cherish.

"I'm all in," you reply, your voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion from last night’s activities. "What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "How about a lazy day? We could just stay in my bed,” he caresses the exposed part of your tummy, leaving a wake of gooseberries, “order some take out,” he nips at your earlobe and you sigh at his touch. “and see where the day takes us."

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears and you clasp your arms around his neck. It’s odd. You both feel like at any given moment either one of you will vanish into thin air and you’ll wake up alone in your loft on the other side of the country. "I think that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both fall silent, simply enjoying the comfort of being close. But the weight of the week ticking away lingers in the air, a reminder that this isn't your everyday life. It's a bubble, fragile and fleeting.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Whatever happens after this week... we'll figure it out, okay?" His heart tugs at the brimming tears in your eyes. He knows you’re trying to withhold all your pent up feelings and he wants nothing more than to help you squash the negativity that holds more space in your brain than it should.

You nod, your hand finding his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we will." And you mean that.

With that, the two of you settle back into the warmth of the covers, letting the world outside wait a little longer. For now, it's just the two of you, and that's more than enough. 

And just as you two had expected, the week flies by like it’s nothing. Days, afternoons and evenings of lovemaking, dancing on the beach, and him expertly instructing you on how to make the perfect sourdough loaf. How you whisper to each other about your deepest, darkest secrets. And he finds himself opening up to you about how he’s always felt like his neglectful upbringing made him slightful resentful and hardened. Oh how the tears flow at the admission that follows. 

You learn that Hesh thinks he’s everything that his father is not, how his brother, Logan is the Golden Pony boy but he doesn’t blame him for it. How sometimes he wants to push away his little brother more than anything, but he’s all he got left. Your heart aches at the thought of him keeping all of these emotions pent up, so you listen to him and hold him tight; dewy eyed, tear stained and puffy. 

These were the types of memories you wanted to create with your dream partner. It’s whimsical, light yet heavy, but not uncomfortable. It’s like eating the most luscious dessert, but its weight holds pleasantly in your stomach. 

But it leads you back to where you had initially met. The airport.

The hustle and bustle is muted as the both of you sit next to each other, snugged up as he traces patterns onto your jeans in an attempt to calm you. He doesn’t want you to leave. In his mind he’s already thinking of all the time you’re going to spend in the future--and you? 

You’re already withdrawing. You’re thinking that there’s no way in hell that this will thrive. Living in two different parts of the country was not ideal for a budding relationship. For an online friendship, sure, but this easily became more than that.

“Hey,” He nudges you, and your eyes flicker up to meet him. He can sense how your energy has changed, and how you’re detaching from him and he hates it. “Stop that.” He makes you face him and your eyes are distant.

“Stop what?”

His stomach lurches. The doubt creeps back into your mind, and you feel yourself succumbing to the emptiness that you’ll endure when you get back. You’re trying to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak and pain of saying goodbye and he sees right through it. His eyes soften, but he’s determined to shake you out of your gloomy state.

“Stop thinking this won’t work,” he says firmly, continuing to draw the patterns into the fabric of your jeans. “I can see it written all over your face, and trust me, I get it. But we’ve got something here--something real, tangible.” His voice falters just slightly as he racks his brain to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this…about us.”

The life in your eyes returns a bit more and he knows he has you hooked onto his words that causes your heart to skip a beat.

“This week…it’s been everything I’ve imagined and more.” He cringes slightly at the corniness of his words, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. He’s being so sincere, and you feel yourself choking up. “And I know we’ve just met, but I feel so comfortable with you.” He rolls his eyes a bit at his own words. “Like I’ve known you forever.” And you giggle again, nodding along with him.

He is right, of course. It really does feel like coming home, and you could get used to that feeling.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go back to talking behind a screen and twiddling our thumbs, wondering when our communication is going to dwindle.” Hesh says, facing you now. “Look, I know this might sound forward,” Your chest tightens at the earnesty in his expression and his words. “But I want to make this work. Like, really work. Like I want you to be here, with me.” He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I want us to figure out a way to move you out here--whenever I’m stationed, wherever we need to be.”

You feel a surge of mixed emotions--fear, hope, relief? It’s enmeshing and turning in your stomach. It’s what you want to hear, but you’re terrified. 

“David, I…I don’t know…” You croak out, feeling the tears cascade down your cheeks, but he shakes his head and wipes them away. 

“You don’t have to decide right now, [name].” he reassures you, and you feel your throat tighten at how donnish he’s being. “I just want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve found the one,” He softly smiles. “And it’s you.”

And it’s like a freakin’ dam burst or something with the way you’re crying, but it’s tears of real relief. The idea of staying with him to build a life together, it’s not something you went as far as even imagining. Not until now.

“No bullshit, [name]. I’m not up for losing you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you profess, but your voice trembles with the heavy weight of your feelings. “But the thought of leaving everything behind…it’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

He nods. “I know it is,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not asking you to do anything rash. I just want you to think about it. To know that I’m ready to make this work.” He squeezes your hand. “Just say the word.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and nod. “Okay.” You laugh a bit as he dabs away at your tears again. “I’ll think about it.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile as he kisses your wrist and then pulls you into a tight hug. The sound of the announcer calling your flight ripples through your little moment and reality sets in again. This time with hope. Hope that something real will flourish from this.

As you pull away and walk to the terminal together hand in hand, you pause to stand in front of him. He easily towers over you and you remember how he looked when he picked you up when you touched down. He cups your face and softly kisses your lips, letting go too soon to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Text me when you land.” He caresses your cheek and you nod with a small smile on your face. Your heart aches when he pulls away, his pinky lingers for a second before he lets go, but it’s filled with something new.

His eyes linger on you as you become smaller, boarding the plane and you turn around once more to find that he’s still watching you. His expression is a mix of longing and resoluteness. You wave, and he returns it with eyes full of silent promise.

As you finally step into the plane, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just the beginning of your new life.

masterlist

mini taglist: @milkteaarttime @keegansshark

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Cash Slave, reporting in...

Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!

I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!

Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!

I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!

See you tonight, master!

Hello sir.

It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.

You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.

That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.

Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.

Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.

Thank you again, sir.

Hello boss.

Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.

I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.

It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!

The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!

Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!

Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!

Tell my wife hello for me, master!

Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.

The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!

You deserve it all.

I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.

Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!

I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!

Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?

I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.

My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!

As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!

As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.

I'll be awaiting your return, sir.

Hey little bro,

I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.

He's such an idiot.

Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.

I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.

Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!

[nonotnolan]

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

okay so this my first time request but i came by your blog and i really enjoyed your writing so — 😭

ahem, anyways i was wondering if i could have some boyfriend hcs with scaramouche and tighnari….

(heizou too if you write for him, i didn’t see him on your list but like, yeah.)

anyways ty 🤍🤍🤍

Indeed I shall, my darling. For Heizou I am still getting to know him and see how I can portray him accurately, however for you my dear. I shall test out my skills upon him and see if it is realistic or not to the character. It still needs work, but FOR YOU MY ONE AND ONLY HALF FAIRY, HALF MERMAID, HALF SQUIDWARD BELOVED. I shall. :)

Scaramouche ┍━━━━━☟━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

He is the type of boyfriend to show his affections through his actions, not his words. He would hug you, kiss you, and rub your back all while calling you an idiot or pretend to complain about it.

He cares about you very much, however, of course he won’t show it, he wants to be seen as someone who can take care of you, not as a weak man who you have to cater to.

He is very bad at communicating and would expect you to read his mind, and you guys would get into arguments about it, however, eventually he will acknowledge his wrong doings.

He has baggage, so he can be insecure and jealous when he sees you with someone who is more capable of taking care of you, then him. It's worse that they speak nicely to you, compared to him, who speaks with sharp tongue.

His love language quality time, he wants you to focus on him and only him. Put your phone away, and ignore everyone for an hour, as you watch a movie with him, or cuddle and talk to him.

They way he expresses his love to you, is through acts of favor. So he would often do favors for you, and enjoy it. - "You need me to buy milk? Alright, anything else?" - "You need help carrying these boxes? Okay, give me a moment." - "You need me to defeat this boss for you? Okay, just rest, I'll handle it." - Want me to take over cooking for the night? I know you like my mac and cheese recipe so I'll make that for you."

He doesn't really care if you guys have children or not, he definitely will struggle to have the patients with them at first, but once he finds a routine then he will be fine. However, his tongue doesn't change, so he will speak harsh to his children but lecture them but his actions will be gentle.

He would always try to find ways to make you comfortable without you knowing. - Your bed is suddenly not giving you back pain? He fixed it. Because you complained about it. - Some weird guy suddenly leaves you alone? He dealt with it. - The favorite clothes you lost, suddenly is back in your closet? He turned the whole house upside down to find it, because you were sad that you lost it.

Tighnari┍━━━━━☟━━━━━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

He will refer you to you as his "precious flower" or his "Beloved Sumeru Rose"

His tail will sway a bit when happy to see you, however he would try not to show his excitement too much, he wants to be someone that you take seriously.

He would tease you in moments, but he would often smile at you.

He would often draw you when he his thinking about you, draw you with flowers in your hair, or with clothing he thought would look nice on you.

He would often take walks with you, and night walks with him is where you guys can bond and relax.

His love language is physical touch, the more you touch him, the happiest he is. Rub his head, rub his back, rub him anywhere. Hug him, and kiss him. Hold him close to you. He enjoys it.

He would know how to comfort you during your nightmares or when you are overthinking, as he uses logic to help explain to you that these things would never happen. He never explains it on a cold hearted manner, but he explains it gently while holding your hand. However, if you are still distraught and still insisting, he would actually listen and look into it. Again, anything is possible so he has an open mind.

He would dress up for you, on dates. Wear his best Sumeru outfit, when taking you out to eat, or showing you around nice places. He would show that he has dedicating to you.

He expresses his love to you, through verbal affirmation, which will go hand in hand with physically touching you. - "You’re doing great, my love. I am so proud of you." - "What's wrong? Did he bother you? No worries love, let me handle him." - "My love, my precious love, do you know how much I love you? I know this relationship is young, but I do want to spend my entire life with you." - "Honey, don’t forget your journal for the journey, okay? In case you do, I'll have it here for you. I love you."

He would definitely want a lot of children with you, however, if you don’t want children, he wouldn’t mind. He cares a lot about you, and only you. No imaginary children will affect that. You are his life, as his species values their partners quite a lot. So your needs come before their own. As long as they have you, they are already happy.

Heizou┍━━━━━☟━━━━━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━┑

He would tease you a lot, like a lot. He is more of a gentle teaser though, as he would tease you about your efforts for him or you blushing for him. - "Oh? Is someone blushing because I took a my shirt off? No? Hmm, a mystery I must solve later, meet me in my bed later, okay? hehe" - "Haha, you are so cute when you are focused like that. What do you mean I am embarrassing you? You are my future wife after all, I need to embarrass you.~" - "Oh? Quite a yearning hug you have on me here. Perhaps...you'd like me to show you one of my yearning hugs in return?"

He would often hug you and put his arm around your waist, not because he is possessive of you, or has jealousy, merely because his hands have a home there and it's just routined for him. Or else, he won’t know where to put his hands.

He would often kiss your hand when he wants to thank you in anyway.

He would buy you gifts as well.

You two would lay down on the bed, as he would go on and on about his toughest cases or the most scariest cases. You will see a twinkle in his eyes as he passionately talks about it.

When you guys argue, you will mostly likely always lose the argument, as he his master debater and investigator so his skills would come out, in mentioning points and factual things that would make you realize that you had your faults too. Of course, this will upset you more, and you would ignore him for a bit. And of course, he would feel bad and apologize, along with admitting he was wrong on his part too.

He would often share things with you, as it is routined for him to do that too. He has candy? Takes half and gives it to you without looking. He has cookies? Gives you one and eats one without even batting an eye.

If you cry, it breaks his heart. He would desperately try to calm you down and cheer you up. He hates seeing you in distress, he wants you to have a comfortable life, a peaceful life. Due to the cases he deals with, he wants you to live peacefully and worry free. It makes him feel happy knowing you aren’t the one dealing with the stress compared to what stress he deals with on his job as a detective.

Speaking of detective, He figures you out easily, he sees through you, your behaviors, and is very observant of you. So when you hide something, he knows. When you try to be normal, he knows. He would point it out. He knows exactly how to comfort you as well.

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 25

"What time will you be home? I want to show you this house I made an offer on today," Cillian said into the phone as he drove down the street. "Then we can pick up dinner on the way back? Wanna try that sushi place that opened up a couple blocks away?"

Zoe smiled. "Look at you getting the lay of the land and knowing new neighborhood restaurants opening up," She teased.

"I like food." Cillian said simply. "Anyways, what time?"

"I'll be done at 4"

"Soooo I'll see you at 4:05?"

"Cillian," Zoe said, laughing. "with traffic, maybe 4:30."

Cillian pouted, and Zoe could swear she could hear it through the phone, if possible.

"Fine. I'll see you then."

"Don't be a pouty baby," Zoe said.

"I'm not... I just miss you," Cillian replied.

"Cill, you saw me 3 hours ago," Zoe giggled.

"So?"

This was unchartered territory for Zoe. She was never on the receiving end of this type of infatuation. She was usually the one to give it, and it never ended well for her.

She had mixed feelings about how the meeting with Heather went. She loved how Cillian stood up for her and didn't take no for an answer. She was almost turned on by the way he took control of the situation, and they laughed about it on the way home making bedroom jokes the entire way.

As annoying as it was, something still felt off about the meeting. Cillian swore everything was fine, and they were going to be together and everything was going to be just like how it was. But something was eating away at Zoe, was it intuition? conscience? but something felt off with the way Heather carried herself in the meeting.

Maybe she was just paranoid.

"Hey, do you have the outlines done for next week?" Mia said, walking into Zoe's office.

"Uh.. what?" Zoe said, quickly hanging up the phone. She'll text Cillian apologizing later.

"The outlines. They were due on Friday but we got an extension."

"Oh. Uh, shit. I didn't finish them, I can have them by the end of the day today," Zoe said, only being half sure of what she was talking about. Outlines sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember exactly.

Mia sighed and bit her lip. "Donna's gonna flip. Can you have them by the end of the day for real? I personally don't care, but I'm the one who has to break the bad news to Donna and she wasn't happy when I asked for the extension last week for you, and I don't feel like getting the brunt end of that again."

Zoe smiled. "They'll be in her inbox by 4. I promise. Sorry Mia, next time I won't put you in that position."

"Thanks Z," Mia said, turning around to walk out the door. "Let me know if you need help with anything."

Mia closed her door and Zoe sighed as she slumped against her chair. She couldn't remember anything about outlines.... maybe there was a conversation last week that she missed?

She took out her phone and there was already a text from Cillian.

Cill: :(

Zoe rolled her eyes.

Zoe: Sorry, boss walked in. Let me get some work done so I can be home sooner. I'll text you when I'm on my way home.

Cill: See you later, Bunny.

"Keep your eyes closed!" Cillian said, finally pulling the car to a stop.

Zoe had rushed through an outline that turns out she never started to begin with and submitted it by 3pm. She tied up some loose ends at work and left promptly at 4. She pulled up to Cillian waiting outside, meeting her at her car door and practically pulling her out of it to give her a kiss and pull her into his car.

"They've been shut!! I'm thinking about what my neighbors might think if they saw you drag me out of my car and shove me into your car, they probably think I got kidnapped" Zoe laughed.

There was a moment of silence, then "Ok yea maybe that was a little aggressive," Cillian said, coming to the realization of how it might have looked to someone just casually walking down the street and witnessing it.

They both burst out laughing and Cillian reaches over and squeezes Zoe's thigh, leaving it there for the remainder of the drive.

"Ok, we're here. Wait here I'll help you," Cillian said, pulling the car over and putting it in park. he shut it off and hopped out and ran to the passenger side, opening the door and helping Zoe out.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" She said, getting anxious.

"One second, one second," He said, standing behind her and putting his hands over eyes. "Just take a couple steps more... okay. perfect. Ready?"

"Ready for what??"

Cillian removed his hands Zoe opened her eyes. She waiting for her eyes to adjust as she squinted to what stood in front of her. A huge house, with hydrangeas along the front of the pristine white brick of the exterior. Large trees stood tall on the sprawling lush green lawn, which made the red brick walk to the front door stand out. Black double doors with gold hardware shined in the evening sun, matching the black shutters that surrounded the exterior windows.

"Wow," Zoe said, looking around. There was a good distance between the neighboring houses, with trees lining the street along with old fashioned gas lamps as street lights.

"I... feel very broke," Zoe said, still looking around in childlike awe.

"You? Ha, i'm the one who just wrote the check for the deposit," Cillian said, smiling.

Zoe spun around and stared him down. "Is this... Cil, is this yours?"

Cillian smiled. "Made an offer on a couple today, this was the last one. I fell in love, offered more than asking, they accepted right away, I wrote the check and immediately called you," he said.

"Oh my god!" Zoe exclaimed, running into his arms, throwing hers around his neck. He caught her, picked her up and spun her around.

"I couldn't wait to tell you, do you see why I was bugging you all day?!" He said laughing, pressing his lips to hers. He put her down, lips still on hers, holding her as close to her as possible. "Let me show you inside," He whispered against her.

He took her hand and guided her through the front door, which opened to a big lobby with a sprawling stair case. Everything was open concept, fresh and clean. The sellers kept it in pristine condition so it was move-in ready.

"I want to show you my favorite part," He said, guiding her past the staircase into the gourmet kitchen.

"Wow," Zoe exclaimed, her voice echoing and bouncing off the walls. Half of my apartment can fit in this kitchen." She said, looking around and running her hand along the white marble countertop.

"This place is very... clean. I feel weird being in here. I'm too dirty," Zoe joked.

"Yea you are," Cillian said, wiggling his eyebrows. Zoe rolled her eyes and Cillian walked to her and hugged her from behind. "I saw this kitchen and I thought about being in here, cooking and dancing around with you," He said, half mumbling into her neck. "I see me and you in every room here. And maybeeee......" He drew out, kissing her neck and squeezing her tighter, "When your lease is up... you can NOT renew and, maybe, move in here... with me."

Zoe's eyes went wide; she spun around in his arms and looked at him.

"What?? Seriously?!" She said, half excited and half in shock.

Cillian nodded. "Only if you want to. I just... I want to be close to you," He said, resting his forehead against hers. Zoe sighed and rested her hands against his chest. "We're crazy," She said, shaking her head.

"No, we're not," He replied, placing his hands over hers on his chest.

"Cill, we contractually dated for 3 months and you're asking me to move in!" She laughed.

"I don't care. I don't care about any of that. I want you. I want to be with you. You make everything better, you make me better," He said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "And, Scout is gonna miss you. He told me," He added.

Zoe laughed. "Well... Tell Scout that I'm month-to-month"

Cillian raised an eyebrow. "Scout doesn't know what that means."

Zoe rolled her eyes. "I'm not in a year long lease. If I want to leave I just have to give a month or two notice."

Cillian's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Zoe sighed. Internally, she was screaming. This was a HUGE step, for a relationship that was only 3 months old. Moving in and giving up her safe space, the one place she can call hers, made her feel nervous. But she never felt like this before. She felt so happy. She was so incredibly infatuated with Cillian. She'd do anything to chase this high.

And yet, there was still a pesky alarm still going off in the back of her head.

Just ignore it. Right?

tags: @lau219 @borntodiemp3 @shopgirl6us @cillianmurphyvevo

[furbygoblinxiv]

MASSIVE TOTK STORY SPOILERS

Made some quickly colored sketches based on my thoughts and playthrough of totk now that I've reached the end of the main story (in 65 hours over 10 days...)

Explaining in order of appearance and also delivering thoughts opinions and spoilers on most things:

So since Sonia gets got and Rauru self sacrifices, and also Zelda shares a blood connection with them, they had to have had kids by the time Zelda got there. And I imagine she spent alot of time with them, since so much happens in those memories, so I like to think the kids and her got along. And I also image that these kids gotta look wild based on being half Zonia half Hylian. Wild looking halfling children left orphaned by Ganondorf.

Zelda gets saved from dragon form at the end, hoorah, however I think she should have kept some of the more dragon like features. I swear I'm not a furry but I just really like funky character designs. Something something how its become part of her something something I need lore videos on it immediately. Also a little Link mashup outfit (my favorite so far, pairing a horn with normal clothing)

So the sage avatars are like physical beings, hence why enemies can shoot at them and why they vanish when in villages in order to not scare people ig. Which to me implies that when you complete a sage dungeon with other sage avatars out, that actual sage can see them. While this has plentiful comedic potential, I do think Riju would be the only one to actually question it though. Also, I call the avatars "my shadow clone goons" or just goons for short, since they do like all my fighting for me. I sit back and block and they do all the work. Extra shout out to Tulin, I think he's killed more dungeon bosses than I have. I didn't wanna spoil Mineru to people so I just collectively call them my Goon Squad.

I thought it was really sweet how Zelda seems to have gotten a chance at having caring parental figures in Sonia and Rauru. I also think it's funny that the closest equivalent that I think Link has is in Purah. Who, when I got all the memories (and thus knew of the imposter and the fate of Zelda) and got the master sword, Link just straight up didn't share any of this until AFTER he got Mineru. Like. Buddy. All these people are worried about Zelda but you SAW THE MEMORY of Ganondorf using a puppet Zelda, and the memory of Zelda becoming a dragon. Like. He just chooses to keep those to himself until someone else brings it up. Straight up iconic. You keep all your secrets to yourself, little man. But it's funny how Purah literally had a line like "You knew all of this?! When were you gonna tell me?!" Lol

I have a lot of thoughts on this game, both good and bad, about the story, lore, mechanics, ect that I may make a post about eventually. However I do know that I'll probably make art of like every single new character eventually bc I dearly love them all (I especially think Yona has a cute design)! Anyways slay fun game I love it I shall continue to play 9/10

[heartsformars]

Can we please get Loona from Helluva Boss x Male Reader who is a popular YouTuber/Streamer? I imagine Loona would become a "Where's Waldo?" situation lmao. Thanks for your time!

“My stupid Lovely Star!” Loona x Male! Reader

Summary; [1] General Headcanons [2] You had hidden your relationship for a long time after you became a couple, however, one day you have a small conversation with Loona…. The problem is that you forgot to turn off your microphone

Contains (¡TW!);; Established Relationship, mostly fluff, cuss words, blitzo being a overprotective dad, Maybe OOC

A/N;; YOU WANT IT U GOT IT !! I know I'm a little late on this one, and I'm sorry!!! This is actually my first time writing something from Loona, however I am moderately proud of the result. You didn't specify if you wanted One-shots or Hcs so I decided to write both. I hope you like it!

[1]

— Loona is usually a somewhat calm girlfriend, yes sometimes she tends to punch you but mostly it's usually in a joke manner or when you get her really nervous.

— She would probably act like she didn't care only to later stay up late watching your streams and replaying them on loop while lounging around at work.

— It will be up to you or not whether you decide to keep your relationship secret or public.

— Even if she would prefer you to keep it a secret, since she really doesn't want to be the center of attention for some time. She loves you, but I don't see her liking to appear on camera.

— Anyway, even with your "famous streamer" status she usually has a normal relationship with you in spite of that. She would treat you the same, although in a weird way it fed her ego to go out with someone famous

— Did I mention that Loona would definitely be somewhat jealous? Every time she sees pages or posts from Fangirls or Fanboys unconsciously growl at her phone. And suddenly, she's in a bad mood all day long.

— at first, she would avoid in EVERY way possible for you to meet blitz.

— But you will eventually, don't worry.

— And it really depends too much if he would become a fan of yours, although I don't see blitzo as someone who would watch YouTubers or Streamers….. — But fan or not his reaction would be kind of the same. — Pretending to be okay in front of loona and threatening to kill you if you ever do anything to his baby. — But take it easy! He will do nothing as long as loona is present!…. At least that’s what you think

— Probably most of your dates will be at home, considering that you have a very large fan base and probably more than one will consider following you both when they see you.

— But don't worry! In case it happens you'll always have your beloved girlfriend to tell them to fuck off 💗.

[2]

Today was another normal, quiet day at least in your home. Loona used to hang out there while you watched a movie or just talked about your stuff so it was kind of a habit for her to stay with you and go back to her room before midnight so that blitzo wouldn't get suspicious.

although you never know if he's looking for her right now….

You had checked your cell phone to show Loona something but…. it was already half past seven?!?

You quickly went to the computer to turn on your stream while Loona looked at you a bit angry

-is it because of one of your goofy streams? Fuck it, you can do it tomorrow…-

she sat on the edge of your bed while you just sighed

-I know, I know… I'll make it quick, ok? You can go to the living room, I'll come with you when I'm done…-

she cursed under her breath while you already turned on stream, appearing in front of the camera while some of your fans were already writing in the chat asking why you started something late.

-Oh, I started late due to some pending, nothing important…-

the nervousness of your tone clearly made some people suspicious, but they decided to ignore it while you tried to ask brief questions and doing anything that didn't take so much time

your goal was to make a stream of only 1 hour… 1 hour and no more, however it seems that your time passed too fast when it was already 9:00 and Loona was getting impatient…

maybe you had already turned off stream and had fallen asleep?

No… she kept listening as you were playing some not-so-interesting game… she hesitated whether to interrupt you or not, but opted to just knock on the door to avoid accidents.

you startled at the intrusion before realizing the time, shit, sure it was Loona. The only good thing is that you would already have an excuse to go

you turned off your camera and went to the door

-Hey… are you coming or will you take longer?” she asked in a slightly sarcastic and annoyed tone, to which you simply stammered, getting a little nervous,

‘ don't worry, just give me 5 minutes’

-I'm getting sick of this… never mind, I'll wait for you-

-Sure, love-

you went back to the stream, announcing that you had to leave early However, a few comments caught your attention.

"LOVE!? AHHHH" “Who was she?” “who could be the unlucky one???

Shit…

You forgot to turn off the microphone…

you turned off the stream quickly heading to the living room, hesitating whether to tell Loona what happened or let her find out on her own

and you were sure she'd kill you both ways

[illtakeyoutowonderland]

I can see you (Part 2)

Modern!Aemond x Reader

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Almost a week had passed since your first encounter with the Targaryean brothers and you weren't exactly sure how to feel. You didn't tell anyone, not even Kate. She was great and you love her as your friend but didn't exactly knew her that well and after all the personal things those men had said in front of you, you weren't sure how she would react and you didn't feel right spreading all those personal details about them

You did, in fact, googled them. You read almost everything you could find, even finding their social media pretty fast. It was hilarious how cliché the brothers were. While Aegon was the party boy and scandalous, brought up by the media pretty often, usually drinking and with friends and some women, Aemond was the most quiet one. With a degree in both law and history (you tagged him in your mind as a nerd, just for the pleasure of it) always attending more formal and business events and only one romantic relationship confirmed by the media with Maris Baratheon who you had no idea who she was and couldn't find anything about

You were now in the middle of your third meeting of the day, completly (not) focused on what anyone was saying when the screen from your phone lighted up with a message from an unknown number and as you read the text, only one person came to mind

Xxx: Thought you said you had a fanbase? And still you hadn't uploaded a photo on your feed in months

Xxx: Not even a few stories? That's not very Insta Girl of you

You: Aegon?

Xxx: The one and only 😏

You: How did you get my number?

You saw the three dots that indicated he was writing a response when Kate's elbow next to you gently found your side bringing you back to the meeting. You looked at her and then to your boss who luckily for you did not see you texting

Almost another more hour went by before the meeting was over and you walked to your desk and plop down with a sigh "Thought it would never end" You said to Kate as she sat in her own desk across from you "Lucky for us only half an hour to go home"

"You weren't even paying attention" She laughed "Who you were texting anyway? You looked preocupied"

"Oh, uhm... no one important" You said shrugging as you took you phone from your pocket "Just an unexpected text, no more" She replied with a hum that indicated she didn't truly believe you but didn't push any further as you read Aegon's reply

Xxx: I have my ways...

You: You found me on insta but now also have my number? It's a little creepy if I'm being honest

Xxx: Wasn't the intention. I promise!

Xxx: I just really wanted to keep talking to you before my brother interrupted us at the party. Thought I might keep in touch, you know?

You: I'm going to choose to believe you. But just this once...

Xxx: Fair enough

You: So what's next? You are going to pop up in my office unannounced or something? 😅

Xxx: About that...

Xxx: Look up from your phone

And you did only to find the blonde man standing a little far from your own desk chatting with your boss, his father and another man you didn't recognize

"Is that Aegon Targaryean waving at you?" Katie asked you in shock and you felt how your cheeks reddenen at being caught "He was your unexpected message wasn't he?" You looked at her but said nothing and that said everything "He was!" She scream whispered and laughed "Then why are you here still in your chair? Go say hi!"

"I'm working!" You tried to excuse but she only laughed harder

"Oh, please! It's friday, our shift is over in fifteen minutes. No one is working" She scoffed as she started tu put her things away "If you don't go, I'll go over there and tell him to come over to your desk" She said using her mom's voice and you believed her. You still couldn't believe how someone your own age could have a kid. You felt like a kid yourself, how was a kid supposed to raise another as beyond your knowledge. 

"Fine" You said rolling your eyes as she laughed at your childish behaviour. You walked over to the group of men praying the earth would swallow so you wouldn't have to face this

"Y/N! Hi!" Aegon said as you approach and you smiled at him. He walked to you but the other men saw your little interaction

"I wasn't aware you knew Y/N" Your boss said and you just wanted to kill Aegon right in the spot

"We met at the party last week" He said smiling but not failing to notice how much you wanted to murder him "We talked breifly" He scratched the back of his neck

"The social one of the family, my son" Viserys said with a laugh and it took everything in you not to slap him for being such a hypocrite "Always admire that from him" Aegon smiled nervously at that and the man offered you a hand shake as he introduced himself "I'm Viserys, Aegon's father, owner and CEO of Targaryean Law Firm. And this is Criston Cole the vicepresident" He said with a smile which replied with one of yours and a little hello and the men nodded at you. And that's when you saw from the corner of your eye a second blonde man and of course it had to be fucking Aemond followed by another man probably the age of Viserys "Great timing! This is Otto Hightower my most loyal friend and president and my youngest Aemond" He said introducing the two men and Aemond's eyes went wide as he spotted you

"It's nice to meet you all" You said with a smile trying to ignore Aemond's eyes on you

"Y/N here is our newest addition" Your boss said proudly and you were ready to dig your own whole on the earth. You looked over at Aegon who looked at you like a puppy that was well aware it was guilty and he mouthed a sorry "New to the company and to town"

"Where are you from?" Criston asked you and you tell them where you used to live "That's a lovely place, I went there over a summer a few years ago" 

"And why the sudden change? If I may ask" Otto asked you curiously and barely hidding the fact he was trying to gather some information about the new Aegon's friend

"Just needed some change of air" You shrugged being as vaguely as you could and the man smiled at you knowing what you had done to not say anything personal. Your phone started to buzz with a call from your father and you hesitated for a second "Sorry, I have to take this" You excused yourself as you walk a little farther from the group of men as you said hi to your father. You both talked for a couple of minutes as you told him you were still at work and he said he only called you to say hello and ask you about the Holidays. You missed him a lot, but still weren't sure if you could go back town to visit. He made you laugh on one final comment as he said his goobyes and you did the same "Bye, love you!" Which he replied with one love you more and then hang up as you walked towards your previous group and you noticed how both Aegon and Aemond looked over at you "Sorry, it was my father" You said to the men ignoring the brother's stares

"Ah, family, the most important thing in life, righ?" Viserys said to you and you smiled not sure what to respond to that "We should headback anyway. It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N" He said to you and you said your goobyes to the men as your boss also went back to his office to finish the day

"You have ten seconds to explain what the hell was all of this" You said to Aegon when he stay behind with you and he put his puppy face again as he stared at you for a few seconds

"And you just lost half of it" Aemond snorted from behind you. You hadn't noticed he also had stayed behind with his brother

"What are you even doing here?" You asked him annoyed and he looked up from him phone to you bored

"Business" He shrugged and went back to his phone and you rolled your eyes at him "Your ten seconds are over" He said to his brother

"Are you always this annoying?" You asked Aemond crossing your arms over your chest

"Are you always this moody?" He replied with a frown as he copied you and cross his own arms over his chest and now you could see how the fabric of his suit tensed with the movement only to reveal the muscles of his arms and shoulders. Of course he also has muscles you thought as you blushed a little noticing you stared at him for a little too long

"I'm sorry Y/N. Truly I am" Aegon's apologize brought you back from your thoughts "Wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable. I just thought it would be good timing to contact you today since I was coming over"

"So you stalked me over instagram and magically got my personal number. Makes sense" You sarcastically said but you saw the genuine apologize on Aegon's words, and you knew half of you annoyance was due to the neverending week you just had. And Aemond's presence for some reason. So you tried not to be too harsh on him as you softened your tone "Couldn't just ask me for my number like a normal person?"

"My brother is a lot of things, normal not being one of them" Aemond snorted and smirked at his brother when he looked at him a little hurt

"Takes one to know one, I guess" You snapped at him and it was your turn to smile as you watch his smirk fade away

"Let me invite you a drink? And I'll explain everything" Aegon said breaking Aemond's and yours childish behaviour "Please?" Why are his puppy eyes so convincing?

"Fine. Just one" You agreed and Aegon smiled "Let me grab my things and I'll meet you outside" He agreed to your plan and you walked over to your desk where a very excited Kate was waiting for you for what just happened "He invited me for a drink and his brother is an asshole" You said summing everything up

"Aemond?" You hummed a yes as you put your things in your back "The one that stared at your ass all your way back here and keeps staring at you?" 

"What?" You said looking up at where he was standing and you did in fact catch him staring with a smirk just as he turned to leave with Aegon to the elevators "Fucking idiot" You whispered to yourself and heard Kate laughing as you felt how your cheeks were turning red

"I'm expecting a full and very detail report about whatever happens with those two by monday fisrt thing in the morning" She said to you as you both made your way out of the building and you rolled your eyes at her but laughed anyways

"Only if you buy the coffee"

"Deal" She said as she hugged you goodbye for the weekend and left you alone with the Targaryeans

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

@anehkael

If you wanna be tag, let me know! 💜

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

chapter 3

warnings: swearing, divorce, suggestive jokes, Roman makes self deprecating jokes (mostly about his weight), smoking 

I tapped my pencil on the desk, staring at the clock and counting down the seconds until I could go on break. A school tour walked in as the clock chimed and I shot out of my seat. Waving to the other receptionist, I headed towards the employee's only door.

"(Y/N)?" I turned when I heard my name called. Roman waved with a smile and I changed direction. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he lifted me off the ground in a hug.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you." I whispered. Roman pulled back with a frown. "Bad day. Like really bad. Boss is a jerk. Anyway." I waved it off as I stepped back from him. "What are you doing here?" Roman chuckled and looked behind him. Two little girls were staring at him confused.

"Uh well school trip. I managed to get permission since Kate didn't want to go and they needed one more chaperone or they would cancel." He shrugged, turning back to me. "Figured it would give me some time with my girls." I nodded with a smile.

"I'm happy for you." I said, squeezing his arm. "They'll have fun. Make sure they check out the Ancient Egypt wing. It's really cool. If the girls are as much like me as you say, they'll love it." Roman chuckled.

"Cheap school." He said conspiratorially. "They didn't pay for that." I nodded and looked over at the girls. They stood slightly off from the rest of the kids, watching their dad. "We had to drive the kids down here on our own too. Pay for lunch."

"What time is everyone leaving?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the girls. Roman smirked.

"Technically, the school says the trip is over in two hours." He said. I nodded, a smile forming. "But they are hosting today as a half day for the kids. They don't have to go back to the school after this."

"So technically speaking you can spend the whole day in the museum if you wanted." I tacked on. Roman nodded. "What are you doing after the tour?" Roman's smirk grew into a smile.

"Nothing." He said. "I have the girls all day. At least until I have to go to work. Then their uncle is going to watch them until Kate can pick them up. But I mean I can call off work if I need to." Roman shrugged. I smiled at him and grabbed his hand.

"Come with me." I said. Roman followed me, checking on the girls and motioning for them to wait a minute. "Hey Shelly. Eric running the school tour?"

"Yep." Shelly answered. "Why? What's up?" She looked at Roman behind me and gave him a small smile.

"When he's done, can you block out some time for me to take Mr. Craig and his girls through whatever they missed? Including the Ancient Egypt wing." I asked. Shelly gave me a look. "Please Shelly. It would mean a lot to me." I let go of Roman's hand to put mine together.

"You know what happened last time." Shelly said. "We both got in trouble." I pouted and leaned over the desk some.

"Come on Shelly. I'll cover you next time you and Eric wanna sneak off." I said. "I'll buy you lunch. I'll pay for your next date. I'll even clean Eric's car. I'll go to one of his gigs. Come on. Please?" Shelly sighed.

"Fine. I'll take the date money and you coming to a gig." Shelly said, typing in the schedule. "But it's your ass on the line. You're never going to get into archives like this kid." I leaned fully over the desk and hugged her, pulling Shelly dangerously close to her computer.

"Oh thank you!" I squealed. "Thank you!" Shelly pried me off her and laughed.

"Alright. Alright." She made a shoo motion at me. "Now go enjoy what's left of your break and I'll let you know when Eric is done." I nodded eagerly and turned back to Roman. He was trying not to laugh as I took his hand again and pulled him away from reception. "You got your hands full with that one Mr. Craig I tell ya!" Shelly called, winking as Roman turned back to look at her.

"You told her about me?" He asked. I nodded, stopping back by the employee door.

"Yeah. Well I mean..." I trailed off. "I don't have many other friends so who was I going to tell about the handsome waiter who was hitting on me?" I shrugged, feeling my cheeks heat up. Roman ducked his head as he blushed.

"Yeah. Well." He chuckled and turned to look at the girls. "I should uh let you get to your break..." Roman looked back at me, cheeks still dusted pink. I nodded and bit my lip.

"Yeah. I'll be at the desk when you guys finish up so..." Roman nodded, glancing at the girls again before smiling at me.

"Ah fuck it." He said, wrapping his arms around my waist. Smiling to myself, I slipped my arms under his and gripped his shoulders. I closed my eyes in bliss as he held me close. "I didn’t want the girls to meet you this way. But I’m glad that they are going to. Doing what you love.” Roman pulled back and cupped my cheeks. I smiled at him and nodded.

“I’ll do my best for a good first impression.” I promised. Roman nodded and leaned in to kiss my forehead.

“I have no doubt you will sweetie.” My cheeks heated up as he gave me another quick hug and ran off to join his girls. He pointed over by me and the girls nodded. Roman waved as Eric led them off and I ducked into the staff room for the last few minutes of my break. After my break, I dived into my work. Eric tapped the top of my computer. I looked up slowly and frowned when he smiled at me, dangling the keys to the ancient Egypt exhibit.

“your cute waiter is waiting for you.” He teased. I rolled my eyes and took the keys from him. “So the kids…”

“don’t bother me.” I said. “Besides mom sounds like a deadbeat. He’s trying his best.”

“hmm so you’re saying if this works out you’re gonna want Shelly and me to hang out a bit more?” Eric added. I gave him a shy smile.

“yeah?” I offered. “Just so they can see a stable relationship and what they should look for.” I said. Eric nodded.

“You two are still in the honeymoon phase.” I nodded. “And you’re worried they might think that’s normal, which it isn’t, or they’re gonna see their mom as…” I nodded, seeing Roman coming over. On either side was a little girl, holding his hands like their lives depended on it.

“thanks Eric.” I squeezed his hand before meeting Roman in the middle of the lobby. “Hi.” I smiled brightly at the girls, watching Roman gently urge them forward. Kneeling down I held out my hands. “I’m (Y/N).” The girls turned to look at Roman and he nodded, a smile on his face. Both girls shook my hand before going to hide behind Roman. He sighed, defeated and shook his head.

“so much for that.” He muttered. Looking at me, his smile returned and he reached down to put his hands on the girls heads. “The one climbing my leg is mara. And the one who thinks she can disappear into my coat is Cara.” Both girls looked up at him, faces scrunched up at being caught. I smiled softly and nodded. “Girls this is the person I told you about. That’s going to give us the tour? That I…” Roman trailed off and looked at me, cheeks turning pink.

“is this the person you keep talking about at the diner?” Cara asked. “The one you think is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen?” Roman turned red before gulping and nodding.

“Yep.” He said. “Even though that was between me and your uncle Chet. This is them.” Mara looked up at me with her eyebrow raised. I bit my lip to stop from laughing. It was like looking at a miniature Roman. The smile had returned to his face as he watched me fight the urge to laugh at him.

“you girls ready to see some cool stuff?” I asked. I held up the keys. “Some mummies and the inside of a tomb perhaps?” The girls perked up and moved away from Roman. I stood up and nodded towards the hallway behind reception. Roman took the girls' hands again and followed me. "So this is all on loan, which means we don't own it. Another museum is letting us borrow it for another week or so." I turned around so I could talk to them while still walking. The girls nodded and I gave them a small smile. I kept my eyes on them as I continued talking. "Some of it will be here permanently since it was donated like the inside of the tomb and a few pieces of jewelry. But those are going to be moved so they don't get sent out by mistake." Roman chuckled.

"That happen before?" He asked. I nodded, pretending to look sheepish.

"Maybe." I said. "Maybe not. I'm not telling. But there's a reason Eric is a tour guide."

"I heard that!" Eric called as he closed the staff door. I sent him a wave and the girls laughed.

"Anyway..." I trailed off as I turned around to unlock the exhibit. "Be very careful girls. From what your dad has told me, there's enough places for the three of us to get in trouble in here. So stick close to me and we'll be just fine." Roman's eyes went wide.

"Uh I think maybe they..." I turned around and gave him a smile.

"It'll be fine Roman. Promise." I said. Roman looked at me then the girls before furrowing his eyebrows.

"I think maybe..." He looked at me again before closing his eyes and nodding. "Alright. You listen to (Y/N) girls. And keep her out of trouble." Gently pushing the girls towards me, Roman took a deep breath. The girls reached for my hands and I smiled a them. I gave Roman a look before entering the exhibit.

"Alright!" I cheered. "So what first? Mummy? Tomb? Jewelry?"

"Mummy!" The girls cheered. I laughed and nodded.

"That's my favorite too." I said. "We've got him in the sarcophagus. But there's a window where you can still see him. And we've got some pictures." We walked over to the sarcophagus and I let go of their hands. Mara tried to jump to see into the window while Cara turned to look at the pictures. Roman stepped up and picked up Mara. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward to get a better look.

“(Y/N)?” Cara called. I looked at Roman and he nodded, smiling at Mara as she pointed at something in the window. I walked over and knelt down by Cara. “This picture…” she pointed in front of her. “Why are there things sticking out of him?” I looked over at Roman and he raised his eyebrows. There was a smile on his face as he looked at me. I bit my lip and opened my mouth before closing it. Roman nodded at me and I took a deep breath.

“well uh that’s because they’re…” I chewed on my lip, trying to think of a way to explain mummification to her. Roman laughed and turned back to the mummy with Mara. They started talking as I shot him a glare I knew he could see in the reflection. “Well. When someone chose to become a mummy…uh…Roman help me out.” I turned towards him and frowned. Roman chuckled as he put Mara down and walked over.

“they ripped their guts out and put them in jars.” Roman shrugged. My eyes went wide and the girls nodded, walking off to look at the jars in question. “I’ve always just been up front with them. Kate didn’t like it but they are smart for their age so…” he shrugged again.

“I mean…” I stood up and blinked at him. “It’s not so much that you just flat out told them. It’s more…” I looked over at them, happily inspecting the fake jars we had on display. “You don’t hide much from them do you?” I asked, turning back to Roman with a smile. He shook his head.

“not really. I mean I hid you for a bit. But apparently not well.” Roman agreed. “And hey, I’m sorry for barging in. I had a chance and I took it. It slipped my mind you worked here. I got so excited…” I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Roman, I understand. More than you think.” I said, patting his chest. “They’re worth it.” Roman blushed.

“thank you.” He whispered. He took my hand and squeezed. “And if you want to just meet up at the apartment I can still take you to dinner tonight. After Kate picks up the girls.” Roman looked so hopefully that I could help but smile.

“of course.” I said, squeezing his hand back. “I can’t wait.”

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

Do you perhaps want to info dump about your DSMP superpower AU?

Totally not asking to procrastinate on literally writing my own. Nah. I don’t even know what procrastination is.

SKLFDJSJHDJFLH INFODUMPING ABOUT MY AU? ALWAYS. I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

Okay so! Where should I start? *rubs hands like that one evil toddler cousin on Christmas*

The background setting!

So the fic already has a name, but I'm keeping it AND the MC secret as a lil surprise for when the fic is eventually published. All I will say about it is, it's not Tommy. *gasp*

Tommy does appear though, so I'll start there to avoid detection I think.

He works at the bakery(yes, it's owned by Niki Nihachu), which is right around the corner from the hero headquarters. So heroes are always stopping by for baked goods, especially since Niki's girlfriend, Puffy, has a son who's one of the top heroes, and he told all his friends about how good the bakery is.

And, of course, true to all the clichés, Tommy and his two roommates work as vigilantes. They don't work only at night, though. They work at lunchtime as well, since they all get an hour of lunch break & a lot of villains are out and about around that time. Counterintuitive, but then again, there are a lot of people in the streets to nab as hostages, and some villains actively seek out heroes to fight anyway. Like Redrum, known as the sharp-clawed, since he's apparently a catshifter (or general shapeshifter, who knows) who goes around stabbing heroes.

Tubbo works at the mechanics, his boss is retired hero/hero trainer Sam Dude(known as Warden during his time)! Sam retired among controversy though, because of issues surrounding the Hero HQ's former resident healer/ex-licensed hero, Lemon Balm. Tubbo couldn't care less though, Sam's nice and lets him take spare parts home for inventing(read: making vigilante gadgets).

Ranboo helps out at the local library, with Technoblade(last name unknown) as his boss! They're also the first out of the vigilante team Bench Trio to find out that Techno is the Blood God, one of the most popular vigilantes currently active, and one half of the elusive Emerald Duo.

Phil runs a bird shelter, and when he's out as the Angel of Death, he sometimes lets the crows from the shelter follow him around!

Kristin is a hero-turned-vigilante, formerly Miss Trixtin, currently the Goddess of Death. She's a bit busy with her day job atm though so she's taking a bit of a break from her vigilante job.

Wilbur is their son who left home after an argument about vigilantism not helping reform the corrupt hero system. He's a villain called Silver Tongue now. He keeps stealing important stuff from the Hero HQ with Fundy. He gets pretty close with Tommy after regularly visiting his (adoptive) son's workplace :D

Bench Trio's vigilante names are Aerie(Tommy- telekinesis + singing to plants to make them grow), Bee Bomb(Tubbo- honey colored explosive energy balls & metal manipulation), and Endgame(Ranboo- teleportation & compression, plus they can bite through anything)!

(Double powers are uncommon but not too rare, triple powers are EXTREMELY rare.)

Tommy's bakery coworkers are Fundy Soot(villain- helps his adoptive father, Wilbur, on his little outings. Ability to go unnoticed by everyone and anyone. It works on technology as well. He's also a general shapeshifter in theory, but he can't transform into animals bigger than a fox.), Badboy Halo(civillian- he can make red vines grow out of the ground! This saved Skeppy's butt once, cuz they used to live in the same neighborhood & went to the same schools, and one time Skeppy fell off the flagpole of the middle school. Bad's vines caught him midair.), and later on Ant Frost(🤫).

Niki herself is actually a former hero who resigned, she got too much hate about her power(copying others' powers for a short while). Puffy, who was her partner, retired a few years later, since she'd decided to adopt the orphan boy who had applied for the hero training program, and she'd need more money than she was making as a hero who had lost most of her popularity. She became a therapist, and fully supported her new son Foolish throughout his hero training!

Puffy and Niki never really talked about their relationship, but since Puffy's power is reading minds & emotions, and Niki can copy her power, they didn't have to. One day they just started telling people they were taken, and that was that.

Foolish is a popular hero who can call up storms & has the additional power of building anything in the blink of an eye! His partner(both work AND romantic) is Eret, who can control people's actions if they catch sight of her glowing white eyes. Their hero names are the Golden Shark and Monarch respectively.

Tina is also a hero, she graduated the hero training program with Foolish, but her powers(always landing on her feet when she falls, enhanced senses including night vision, and stealth) coincide too much with the top hero, Dream(can't get hurt from falling, slowing down time to give himself time to think, some enhanced agility), and she didn't get very popular. This will soon change though, Tina is the GOAT and everyone will know it.

Speaking of Tina, Hannah Rose the retired hero! She runs a flower shop! She retired after one of her wings was ripped during a fight, the physical therapy took a while and her popularity dropped like a stone. She realized how unfair the hero system was to unpopular heroes and decided to retire. Her wings still haven't recovered, her flight balance is too off for her to even consider flying more than a few feet off the ground, and more than a few seconds.

Las Nevadas! Quackity! He's one of the rare triple powered people! Golden duck wings, can manipulate card-shaped objects(a form of telekinesis), and has the ability to control odds(only if he's aware of all the variables though. It won't work very well if there are unknown factors).

Charlie! May be an elder god, may be the devil, who knows! He can turn into green slime, create green slime(with various properties), and additionally, knows everything about everyone. Nobody actually knows if this is a power or not, but it's certainly terrifying paired with his cheerful, optimistic personality.

Purpled! His skin is basically invincible, fireproof, acidproof, poisonproof, you name it. He also has perfect aim, which is very handy since he's an assassin. His sibling Punz is also an assassin, but they has flight trajectory manipulation and his eyes can zoom in on anything.

Skeppy. He's not part of the mafia, but he might as well be becuase he's literally always there. Nobody knows how he does it. But. He. Is. Always. There. He can summon diamonds though so nobody's complaining😊 lol

(But seriously, he's also fun to hang out with and plan pranks with. The mafia world is full of people who want something from you/have ulterior motives, and it's nice to hang out with someone who doesn't want anything from you other than keeping him company and talking with him.)

Sam, Foolish and Punz are friends! Sam suspects Punz is mafia but keeps quiet about it(he isn't about to make the same mistake as last time), Foolish is oblivious. Punz loves his homies, but is stressed bc Foolish has a v strict moral code and would not be happy if he finds out Punz is mafia.

Uhhh who have I not talked about, KARLNAP. Sapnap was a vigilante(he failed the training program interview) who quickly got recruited by the heroes, Karl was the same but a while later! Sapnap got patrols with Dream and GeorgeNotFound(all three go by their actual names as heroes, though Sapnap's vigilante name was Flame) and immediately gained a huge following(besides his fans from his vigilante days), but Karl(a.k.a. Timekeeper) wasn't that well-known even as a vigilante. He didn't give up though, and trained extremely hard every day. Then one day Sapnap saw him in the training area and got an instant crush. They talked, Sapnap began asking to be paired with Karl for duo patrols, they started dating, and now they're both famous & known as the ultimate power couple :3

Hmm, it feels kinda anticlimactic to end like this, so have a codename compilation!

Tommy- Aerie(place to rest suspended in the air. Tommy can float things in the air so I thought the name fit.)

Tubbo- Bee Bomb(Bee Bombs are wildflower seed balls that you leave out in the garden/in pots to grow wildflowers. I thought Tubbo would like the name, since his energy balls are supposed to smell sweet like wildflower honey.)

Ranboo- Endgame(They're so overpowered with their teleportation and compression that Tommy and Tubbo insisted his appearance alone would signal the beginning of the endgame. Nicknamed Ender.)

Technoblade- the Blood God(obviously.)

Philza- the Angel of Death(also obviously.)

Wilbur- Silver Tongue(for his silver tongue.)

Fundy- either Nonexistent or Ghost, haven't really decided yet

Kristin- (formerly) Miss Trixtin, (currently) the Goddess of Death

Foolish- the Golden Shark

Tina- Carrot Cat

Eret- Monarch

Niki- (formerly) Copycat

Puffy- (formerly) Captain Puffy

Karl- Timekeeper

(Mafia Codename explanation here)

Quackity- Rey Club, King of Clubs

Purpled- Tyrian Spade

Punz- Lapis Lazuli Spade, Ace of Spades

Hannah- (formerly) Faerie, (currently) Bitterbriar Diamond

Skeppy- Adamant Heart(since he's always there anyway, they just gave him a codename.)

Charlie- Dresden Diamond, Jack of Diamonds

Ponk- Lemon Balm/Sorrento Heart(they still go by Lemon Balm as a vigilante)

Ant- Redrum

Eryn- Demon

Aimsey- Daisy(star and Eryn are villains who want to reform society as a whole by blowing up buildings. Only when they're empty tho cuz Aimsey doesn't want to kill ppl)

Velvet: Red Flag

Welp, that's all for now! If there's anything else you'd like to know, please feel free to ask further! I really enjoyed answering this, thank you so much for the ask! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

-Lilly xx

(P. S. Almost forgot; HBomb is the owner & sole employee of a cat café with a maid event on Saturdays.)

[voidingintotheshout]

Bigger Bro: A Continuation

Okay, so there's this amazing story of filial revenge by someone on here called Better Off Bigger. They wrote an amazing 10 page (6,000 word) story called Big Bro. It's one of my favorite stories (of any genre) from the last couple of years. It is 18+ but I don't recall any sex or descriptions of nudity. Use discretion, but in my estimation is only PG-13.

Anyway, I wrote a 19 page (15,000 word) sequel to this awesome story exploring the family history and the relationship dynamics between the two brothers. I've talked with Better Off Bigger and their preference is that I link to their story and then post my own. I'll honor that and remind you that my story may not stand of its own without reading their story first.

Link to: Big Bro by Better Off Bigger

I'll post my story in two parts. I started this story in January 2023. It's DECEMBER 2023 now. It's been a tough thing to polish and edit. It's worth knowing that I loathe editing, so if there is a typo, leave it (and the location) in the comments if it's bothering you and I'll try to get around to fixing it in less time it took me to edit this thing (6+ months).

Bigger Bro (Part 1 of 2) (2023)

Note: Part 1 is in first person, from Jared’s perspective.

Fortunately, I love cooking, so spending a couple of extra hours in the kitchen every day making food for my big bro Marco was something that gave me pleasure. It also didn’t hurt that recently, my stepbrother had been conditioned to eat everything that was put in front of him, and it showed.

It has been a year since I moved out of my parents house, and Marco was out of a job. Apparently, someone tipped off our oblivious boss at how much food Marco was eating, which, at first our boss didn’t really care that much about until this person put a price tag on how much it was costing our boss, and then Marco had to go.

We moved ourselves out of that house, and for a little while he was at a loss. He hadn’t been out of work in years, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought for a while about going to college or going back to school in between bites of whatever food I put in front of him, but whenever I would dangle the idea of how he would pay for it in front of him, the idea of cashing in his nest egg on going back to school didn’t appeal to him. He’d tell me that he would think about it, mull it over in between mouthfuls. Fortunately, I managed to keep him mostly occupied as I persuaded him that this new arrangement was about complete freedom for him to do what he wanted. No asshole judgmental friends, no asshole judgmental parents, and no asshole judgmental coworkers. He could do what made him happy, which coincidentally was what would make me happy: him eating like a pig.

I moved around some of the dishes that were warming in the oven and stirred some of the items that were still on the stove. I treated our stove like a warming oven, so things that took a long time to put together like a stack of waffles or pancakes, or French toast, could just stay warm in the oven while I worked on other things. I could still hear Marco’s snoring from the end of the hall, so I knew that he was still asleep. Fortunately, I was almost done.

The pot of coffee was brewing on the dining table, and that was the last thing I put together for his breakfast. I already had my lean breakfast while I was cooking, because I certainly wasn’t gonna wait around a half hour to an hour while he wolfed down all of that food. I turned the heat off on the final items to get done, which was the roasted carrots in butter sauce. I started to plate everything on large trays, because he didn’t really care about eating off of ceramics, so I just put the food directly on serving trays, just to make it easier for me to keep everything clean. I just kept a stack of them on the counter and I could just throw them in the dishwasher as needed. Usually one meal cooking for Marco ended up filling up the dishwasher more or less, so I just got into the habit of emptying the dishwasher while I was prepping the food.

I was plating the food, when I heard a thud at the end of the hallway, and that usually meant that Marco had rolled himself out of bed. I knew from experience that the heavier you got, you’re not usually very good at getting a sense of how much your life has changed since you’ve started gaining weight. He wasn’t even aware that he needed to use the momentum of swinging his legs to get his body off of the bed. One time, about a month or two ago, I came home. He was taking a nap in bed, and I tried to get him to see if he could get out of bed without swinging his legs over the side. Poor fat fuck acted like I was asking him to do the impossible. For a second, I wanted to get on to the bed and show that I had more than enough core strength to turn my body without swinging my legs… that this was an indication of how fat and heavy he had become, but I didn’t wanna fuck things up.

I heard the thuds of his footfalls, and I popped my head around the corner so I could see him waddle down the hallway. Unlike me, who gained weight mostly in the belly, Marco gained it everywhere, and he had already developed massive ass and thighs that made it so that he needed to waddle everywhere he went. Fortunately, I did everything for him, so no one had yet had called him out on the fact that he was literally waddling from place to place. I loved that I saw the edge of his belly leave the bedroom quite a bit before I saw the rest of him He waddled down the hallway, his arms pushed out from the massive bags of fat hanging down under his armpits. His apron of belly fat was hanging down below the reach of his arms. He could reach the end of his belly, but only if he was lying on his back.

One day, I was feeding him breakfast and he mentioned that he had just been beating off thinking about the hot guy I’d just brought home and fucked last night. I went into his room, and I saw that he had piled some pillows in the middle of the bed, presumably to get his belly away from his dick so he could even fucking reach it. I checked the browser history, but he was either too oblivious, or careless to even think about clearing it, and I was very happy to see that he was already chatting with communities of gainers and encouragers online. Googling tips on how you can continue masturbating at large sizes. I mean, he had a boyfriend, Nathan, but all of his eating made Marco horny so he usually needed it more often than Nathan was around. Nate was a little bit smaller than I was at my peak. He weighed about 275. Marco loved it because Nate was half his size.

“Sup bro.” Marco interjected. “Have another amazing repast for me, I see. You’re lucky that I’m here so that you can keep your skills up. It’s not like that bullshit restaurant you work at even serves breakfast food.” I snickered, because the restaurant had been an ‘amazing, esteemed place’ before he’d been fired but was now a ‘bullshit, shithole, fleabag’ now. A ‘bullshit’ restaurant serving fare he’d shovel into his face as fast as he could every time I brought home anything.

He started digging into the French toast with ice cream and syrup and butter. He ate it with serving spoons now because it was just easier to get stuff into his mouth. I was trying to convince him to start eating with his hands, but it was gonna take a little bit more persuading to get him to eat foods like mashed potatoes (which were hot), or ice cream (which was cold) with his hands. “Yeah. I love getting all the practice I can. I’ll have some of my fellow chefs drop off some food starting at around eleven. Will that give you enough time?”

“Yeah. I’ll be up and about by then. I got a lot of stuff percolating in the tank.” He said, with a jerk upwards, as if he was busy thinking deep thoughts about his future, as he moaned and grunted audibly stuffing food in as quickly as he could, in an effort to overfill his stomach before his brain could send the signal that he was full. As if it was a race against time.

“Excellent. It’s important to stay busy. Will you still be up later in the week to let some of my buddies in culinary school cook for you? They all really appreciate having someone with a good appetite who can give them notes on what you liked and what you didn’t. You know, food tasters are nice, but they only taste a bite of the food but you’ll finish the whole meal so you give them better sense of which items lose their flavor or stop being as delicious by the last bite.” I also liked the fact that the mammoth meals stuffed my obese brother with thousands of extra calories, every single time he had one of those. I wasn’t about to tell my brother that they didn’t really need his feedback, but I really loved any opportunity to stuff that fatass with more calories.

I thought back to Marco walking down the hallway. His double chin turned in to a small scoop of fat as plump, fleshy face jiggled as he waddled down the hallway. Marco generally didn’t bother wearing shirts around the house, but rather just kept a nice shirt near any place that he was likely to sit and eat, so he could just throw the shirt on anytime he needed to have guests. That would guarantee that if there were any food stains, they were almost always on the inside of the shirt.

I didn’t know how fat Marco had gotten exactly, but every once in a while, I would bring home a bottle of rum and two liters of Coke, and Marco would get completely wasted. Once, Marco had gotten to the point that I knew the fatass was about 10 minutes away from falling asleep, I would make Marco put one foot foot on either scale, because Marco was too fat for anything less than a bariatric scale at this point, and get his weight. This was an important one, because this was the one year anniversary of the two of us moving in together. When we moved in, Marco was 410 pounds. He had gained another 5 to 7 pounds between when he got fired and when we actually moved in. I glanced over to the table and noticed that Marco had finished half of the food on two of the cafeteria trays that were piled high with mounds of food covered in fat and butter and sugar. “Everything good there a big bro?”

“Amazing as always. I don’t know how you do it. I was always useless in the kitchen, but I was always pretty helpful around the dinner table finishing stuff off. Not that our fucking parents appreciated that. I’m glad I can at least do something to create more amazing chefs like you by giving all of your friends notes about what they’re making. Some of them are pretty good. That lady, Sandra? She’s amazing. You should have her come and cook again.”

Sandra. Yeah, Sandra wasn’t going to be coming back.

One of the design details that I had all over the house is I had mirrors right next to photos of Marco as he used to look when he was fit. As a way of taunting him. Amazingly, he never really put it together, he just saw that he was a hot guy and that was awesome and now he can do whatever he wants which was also awesome. Sandra didn’t know she was going to be cooking for someone who at the moment was about 530 pounds. Not only that, without anyone but me and his encourager boyfriend, he had lost all sense of decorum and table manners as he was encouraged to stuff food in as quickly and shamelessly as he could; never timid about asking for, or demanding, more food at any time. It was part of my plan to make a Marco one of those greedy pigs that he saw watching episodes of My 600 Pound Life. It was all part of a larger plan.

Sandra didn’t know any of that, and when she found out that her food was being used to make a 23 year old guy who was already so heavy that he struggled to get up, even fatter… she felt like she was doing something bad, and when she insisted that she would try to intervene and get Marco to start being healthier, she had to go. If need be, I could make up some story about unprofessional conduct, or she had a death in the family and needed to move away, or whatever.

I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling that Marco had already gotten so fat that he would struggle to actually get into that fucking car of his. Once I knew that he was so fat that he would just keep stuffing himself for the rest of his life, I would point that out so maybe we could sell the car and he could keep the money for his rainy day fund and that would be so much less power that he would have to do things for himself. I didn’t need my pig to get away.

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to her. I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I don’t know if she’s in the game anymore.” There was Nick, though, who had just moved up from Tennessee and had gotten used to putting too much butter and gravy in all of his southern cooking at the restaurant though. He was interesting, a little unpolished, but as soon as his techniques got better, I think he would jump at the chance of cooking for Marco, someone who would appreciate food made with as much butter and gravy as Nick could whip together.

Two-thirds of the food was gone. At this point I would usually go into the kitchen and rinse off stuff and put it in the dishwasher while he was absorbed in stuffing his face with more food, something that happened more and more often.

Once he got over 400 pounds and lost his job because people said he was too fat, he tried to rally a little bit, but it was moving out that really broke him. You see, he used to be a guy who could benchpress hundreds of pounds so when he was packing stuff up and moving stuff out of his room, I was making great progress with my stuff and I wasn’t helping him. His parents weren’t really talking to him that much because he kept on teasing them that he was going to move out and eat whatever he wanted and they were not happy. Fortunately for me, they are not people who communicate well. They’re the kind of people that, when they’re unhappy with you, they just stop talking to you. That was supposed to make the other person want to reach out and extend an olive branch, but Marco was just too stupid and oblivious for that. So all he registered was that they just weren’t giving him shit about what he was eating anymore and that he was almost ready to leave. I had packed up most of my wardrobe, the gym equipment, some of my smaller pieces of furniture, as well as other stuff like things from Marco’s and my childhoods that our parents didn’t want anymore. They were getting older and wanted to move into a smaller place. The house they were living in was part of a really great school system that was also really expensive. Since they didn’t really need to worry about that since they were empty-nesters, they could move into a much smaller, two-bedroom place without any stairs that was closer to his father’s job, and would be the kind of place that even if their knees started to go from all of their exercise, they wouldn’t have trouble getting around the house. A smart move, I thought.

So there I was, I would fill my car with a bunch of stuff, the big items first. It was easy. I would be packing up some stuff, with help from the guys at the gym, and I was making a ton of progress. Marco insisted that he could do it himself. He had his own car. The only problem was, the last time he had done a lot of weightlifting was 200 pounds ago, back when his weight was below 200. That belly was in his way. When he would be folding up his clothes, and lifting boxes off of the ground—it ended up being some thing that was not possible for him without getting winded or frustrated. Even with creating a mobility aide, such as putting the box on the desk chair while he was still sitting on the floor, and then using the desk chair to hoist himself up off the floor, he got worn out packing up a single box over the course of an afternoon. One day, after our parents have gone to sleep, I was back from the restaurant, and I was stuffing Marco with all of the foods that had gotten returned, as well as a bunch of other stuff that I was whipping up once he finished with that. It was our nightly routine.

He came to me, despondent. I knew it was serious because he’d stopped eating and put down the food for a few minutes. He came clean that he just didn’t have the stamina right now. Maybe he was just bloated from too many celebratory freedom meals. (That’s what he was calling every meal now that he was unemployed). He told me that he just didn’t have the energy to do this anymore and he wanted to know if he could have some help from me and my gym buddies, the ones that used to be his friends. I looked at him coldly, making sure to look down at his bloated, gut and food-stained shirt. The shirt that he had been wearing at the restaurant when he got fired. The one that had been tight then and now his belly was hanging out of the bottom of. He didn’t even care. I told him that I would get him his help, but in exchange he needed to sit there, in that shirt, stuffing his face the entire time they were packing up his room and he need to apologize that he had just gotten too fat to do this kind of stuff. I told him that I wanted him to own up to the type of man he was now and come clean. That he was too fat, and too out of shape to do anything other than eat. He started to object, but I told him that if he didn’t have his shit out of here, he would be unemployed, living with his parents, and I knew he didn’t fucking want that. I had him over a barrel. He relented.

Marco was on the last tray of food today, so while I was cleaning up the kitchen, I brought out some of the snacks that got him through the morning. I placed them in front of him I along with a remote. Sometimes he got so fat and heavy after eating, that he couldn’t manage to hoist himself up for several hours. So, since we had one of those giant flatscreen TVs across the living room, he would sometimes just sit at the table, snacking on food until his bladder or his appetite forced him to hoist his fat ass up and take care of something. “Thanks man. I didn’t wanna say anything, but those four trays are starting to not cut it anymore, you know? Like I’m not hungry obviously it’s just I’m not really as full as I’d like to be.”

God he was a pig. “Yeah, I know man. I used to be heavy too. I know how good it feels to really weigh yourself down after a nice meal. I’ve got you buddy. We’ll move up to five trays starting tomorrow. That should fill you up.” I figured by the time he got to 600 pounds a year from now I would be up to six trays, which was as much as that table could hold, but I also figured at that point I might be able to condition him to just start taking most of his meals in that bariatric bed with the foldout tables, and once I got him to start eating in bed, I knew he would never get up again. Then my plan would really start.

Anyway. Moving day. This was before Nate entered the picture. I saw Nate at the bar that Marco used to go to. He was trying to coax his date into finishing another plate of fries and all I heard was this random ex jock, shouting “stop trying to fatten me up dammit!”

I knew I had found the right person.

So I talked to Nate and explained about my brother. I knew I had chosen the right person when he got this hungry look in his eyes seeing the before and after picture from a hot, sexy confident jock to this puffy blob of a man lounging on the sofa with a huge tray of food resting on his belly, because it was the only place his fat arms could reach easily anymore. Nate immediately wanted to start playing around with Marco and it helped that he worked at a bakery, a place that tends to be open in the mornings and close by dinner time so I had someone who could feed Marco while I was at work during the dinner rush. I need to keep my brother full.

I couldn’t let him get hungry and start wasting away, now could I?

I’d set it up as if Nate was someone going to culinary school who was interested in Marco and loved his confidence or whatever, which was true. I wasn’t expecting Nate to develop genuine feelings, I was honestly only thinking of creating another incentive for Marco to continue being a pig, now that I had broken him with moving day.

Nate would come over about three times a week, and they would talk on the phone a lot, Marco never really putting it together that Nate always liked call when he knew Marco was going to be eating something. Whatever boats your float, Nate. They even fooled around… occasionally, because sex with Marco tended to be more of an ordeal, or so Nate said. The bigger Marco got, the less energetic and mobile he was. The more likely he would get out of breath, of his pulse would race too much, or whatever. This meant that his partner would need to take it even slower, and do more of the work. This meant that sex was fairly rare, especially since his belly and fat pad had buried so much of his dick at this point. I knew this because I was the one who needed to wash him down there now that he couldn’t reach everywhere anymore. The lack of sex thing was nice though, because that kept Marco horny and that made him eat more. It didn’t matter though because when he had sex, he felt like that hot stud he was before, and that also caused him to eat more.

I had done most of the washing up except for the final tray that Marco had in front of him and that’s when I heard the TV flip on, which was my cue that I could head out and start doing some cardio. I’d gotten myself into peak physical condition, so at this point it was all about maintenance. I didn’t wanna look like some kind of power lifter, so fitness was more about about going to the gym to maintain and burn off steam. I had about 45 minutes before I needed to leave for work so I had enough time to run a couple of miles before I took a quick shower and throw on my work clothes. Him being done with breakfast was a good sign. I would go for my workout, come home and then start the dishwasher. “You feeling good bro?” I’d shout from the kitchen.

I just heard a few mumbled words as he tried to talk with his mouth full. I smiled. I loved how easy this was. If the old Marco had seen what he was like now, he would be horrified. The fact that he was more than double his high school weight and didn’t really seem to care was more than I had hoped.

Sometimes, at the end of the day, he was so weighed down with food and muscle atrophy that he thought nothing of letting me help him up. The idea that he struggled to hoist his fat ass out of a chair after doing nothing but eating all day, didn’t even seem to bother him. “Awesome. I’m gonna go for my run. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I walked past where he’d seated himself on his bariatric bench with the wheels, so he could easily hoist himself up. I’d managed to convince him to let me install a little rope pull attached to one of the ceiling beams right above where he sat, to help hoist himself up. He said he didn’t need it, but I noticed that he uses it pretty much every time now. I was also gonna have one right above the spot on the couch that he usually sits in so we can use that one to help with himself up off the couch when he needs it.

I took off the apron and hung it from the hook in the kitchen, revealing the running clothes underneath. It was just easier to cook in my running gear that way I could save some time. Cooking that mountain of food for him was not easy. I glanced over at him and saw that he had already finished the fourth tray and was wolfing down a bunch of the snacks already. He was insatiable. I was glad to see that he had the TV remote and the door remote if he needed them.

That was one of the things that I treated him to when he got to 450 pounds. I had gotten to be pretty senior in the restaurant since I was saving money all over the place and getting rid of food waste (Which was going to Marco) and customer satisfaction was through the roof. Being in the food industry, and the restaurant industry in my town, you get to know chefs from all the other restaurants. It’s like a brotherhood. You find yourself calling them for references and stuff like that and eventually I’d broach the subject of what do you and delivery drivers do with food that you can’t sell. Dishes that get returned and deliveries that the customer paid for but didn’t show up to accept. Situations where you order too much of something and it needs to be used today and you’re not likely to do so. Well, wanting to have less food waste, it was easiest to just give all of that food to a delivery driver and have them run it over to Marco’s place. Marco would press the button on the door remote and let the guy in, who would place all the food in front of Marco and get five to ten bucks for his trouble. That way Marco would have piles more food and the guy (or the restaurant would have 5 to 10 bucks more than he used to. It didn’t happen every day, but it was getting more consistent as pizzas and cheesesteaks or whatever would arrive and Marco would be there to stuff it down his fat face.

Anyway, I turned down at the end of my block and continue on with my run. I wasn’t really worried about my time or my pacing anymore. I’m basically where I wanna be but I do try to keep my pace at a certain level just so I know that I’m not backsliding.

I’m very curious as to how much walking it would take Marco to get out of breath, but I don’t think he has left the house more than once in the last six months. I get all of his clothes and anything else he needs. I do the grocery shopping mainly because I don’t want him to buy a bunch of shitty tasting junk food which might make him bored. Eventually, I’ll need to resort to that when his appetite is such that I can’t really do a full-time job and feed him all day. Happily, he’s not at that point yet.

So anyway, moving day. Over 100 pounds ago. Marco had his instructions and I brought some of his old friends went and seen him in a few months and I choose the judgiest of his old gym buddies and I prefaced it by saying that Marco was unrepentant, and all he wanted to do was just be a pig out and stuff his fat ass with as much food as he could. He’d gotten himself so out of shape that he didn’t even have the stamina anymore to pack boxes and move them into his fucking car. We needed to get him out of the house so we’re gonna need to do it for him. Should only take a few hours with a couple of us working together.

The stage was set. I had given Marco a fairly lean breakfast, so he was already complaining for food by the time my friends from the gym got there. He didn’t know that they were his old workout buddies and some of his old lovers. They saw Marco with his belly hanging out of his old uniform, stuffing himself with anything he could get his hands on. Apologizing for not being able to help but he’s just really bloated lately and he just doesn’t have the stamina. That it just wears him out packing up all those boxes. He played his part to a T, and he was eating slices of cheesecake with his hands, right out of the tin. He takes a messy pile and holds it out to one of the gym rats and says “do you want a slice? It’s really good!”

They look at him disgusted. “Jesus fuck dude. You’re like a fucking disgusting pig. I think you might be the fattest guy I’ve ever fucking seen. That’s all you do. Just stuffing your fat ugly face with more fucking food? I remembered when I used to lust after you. I asked you for lifting tips. The only thing you’re lifting is your fucking fork. Do you even use silverware? Are you literally just stuffing food into your face with your hands? God what the fuck happened to you. You’re such a gross pig.” Marco looked totally defeated.

Fortunately, he was so hungry, and he was so prone to eating his feelings that it just made him want to stuff his face more, and when he realized they were not going to be convinced to treat him nicely, he almost wanted to stuff his face more to antagonize them. This gave me the idea that I’m going to be presenting to Marco later today after my run. One of the other guys chimed in who have been rejected by Marco “I remember when you were the type of guy they could have whatever you wanted, but it turns out the only thing you wanted more of was food. That’s why you ended up getting fatter than everyone else and you probably can’t even fit on most of the machines at the gym. Is it true that you got fired from your job at the restaurant because you got too fat? Oh my God, that’s your uniform isn’t it? You only got fired a few weeks ago and your belly is spilling out of the uniform? Damn, you’re never gonna lose weight if you don’t treat that as a wake up call.”

Marco, spiteful, stopped eating long enough to spit out a few words “I don’t need to stop eating. I can eat whatever fuck I want to and I hope you know that even though I’ve eaten myself so fat I can’t even pack up my own shit to move out of my house, I’m gonna stuff my face the entire fucking time you’re here so you can know that your words are motivating me to get even fatter.” He pulled up his shirt and grab the newly forming roll below his flabby sagging man breasts and said “do you see this roll right here? I’m gonna stuff my face until it ends up developing even more creases and folds in my flesh. And the entire time I’m doing it I’m gonna be thinking about you. So that you know you made me even fatter and heavier.” The rejected guy, who was a little bit of a dom, was disgusted, but I couldn’t help but notice that he needed to readjust his crotch immediately after. I’d catch Sean occasionally stealing glances at Marco gorging himself after that. Even all these months later, he’d try to play it cool and ask me ‘what is that gross pig of a brother looking like now’ and ask for a pic. There was a hungry look in his eyes that I was definitely going to take advantage of when Marco had totally given up.

I had gone around a mile and a half at this point and I was just about to turn and go through the homestretch. I tried to do about a 5K before I left for work, but sometimes I didn’t have time, and I had to turn it around early. That day he ended up stuffing himself to the point that he started begging and demanding that I order pizza to come to the house, so we could continue stuffing himself with more food as they move the last of the stuff out of his room. To the guys, I acted appalled that my fat ass stepbrother would want even more food but then, when I had a moment alone, I called the delivery place and ordered three pizzas to be delivered to our parents house under his name, as if while we were outside, he was just phoned to order more food. Happily, Marco was in on the bed and fessed up for it saying that three pizzas was not even going to be enough to fill his belly and then he probably would end up ordering a few more. That he needed to get himself nice and fat for them. That was the moment where I was absolutely sure that he was a man who ran exclusively on spite. I could use that.

As it turned out, I thought, as I finished the last third of the run. Marco had overestimated his appetite. He had eaten himself into a stupor, sure. But as he rested on his bed in the new place, surrounded by boxes, he still had one and a half pizzas left over, but those would be gone within 24 hours. After that, he was vocal about asking for as much food as he wanted. It was his thing, he had decided. He would not accept less than he wanted. The weight started to climb really quickly and I decided that I wanted to make sure that he didn’t need to leave the house to get anything so when I saw his clothes were starting to get tight I replaced them with larger sizes that I would buy on the Internet and have shipped to the house. That way he never really needed to worry about whether he could find clothes. Once I knew what brands he liked, it was very easy to pick him up a new T-shirt or sweatshirt that had sizes up to 10X or the gigantic pairs of sweatpants that he would throw on.

I even created a strap, like on a messenger bag, that he could use to pull up his pants if he needed to get them up and down. Hell, sometime between 450 and 500, I managed to convince him to start doing enemas which I needed to help him with. He was already used to the concept because he needed them before when he hooked up with guys, but the fact that he couldn’t actually reach back there well enough to insert it was new. I just needed to do about 2 to 3 enemas per week and he was good to go. I had started to turn onto the block where I lived and knew I would be heading home soon and then it was rushing to work and business as usual.

The funny thing is at one point about six months after he moved into this place. It’s almost like he just gave up. He started to look at old photos of himself like it was another person. Occasionally, he would watch episodes of My 600 Pound Life and complain because those people didn’t look that fat. Six-hundred pounds didn’t look that big to him. What were they complaining about?

That was a day where he couldn’t get the momentum to hoist his fat ass up off of the couch and needed me to help pull him up and he didn’t even have the self-awareness to see that he was a morbidly obese, 23-year-old who was too fat to wipe his ass, too fat to get up sometimes, and he was stuffing himself heading for 600 pounds.

Fortunately, one of the things that he loved back when he was fit, was showing himself off on Instagram. Fortunately, for me, he’s not very internet savvy. I walked in, and he was groggily digesting the meal working his way through a pot of coffee that was sitting next to him. The table he ate at was right next to an outlet, so I just brewed the coffee there, so he could just get coffee, as well as what turned out to be weight gain shakes that filled a small mini fridge that sat on the table. That way if he ran out of food and was desperate, he had something to eat, ignoring the fact that it was basically boost in a one-gallon pitcher.

“Hey bro” I asked the blob. “Have you thought about that Mukbang thing that I was telling you about?”

“Yeah. I’m definitely going to do it. In fact, I already set up the channel and created one or two videos already. They don’t have a lot of views, but it’s early yet. It’s not hard for me just to set up a video camera here and just videotape me eating and just talking about whatever. It’s nice to actually talk about, you know, my opinions on sports and culture and whatever and that Patreon thing that allows people to give me money? That’s amazing. People are really generous with that stuff. Especially when I showed what I looked like before I started eating? The money just started pouring in. I’m getting a lot of people that’ll just pay me money to eat random stuff. If I keep this up, I might be able to make enough money to actually pay rent around here! Imagine that, being able to earn more money stuffing my face than I could serving other people! That way, any time someone dropped off some food, I can just turn that into a video. Nate even said that he would agree to doing this kind of video where one person feeds me on camera? Apparently, that’s some thing that a lot of the guys have been requesting and it would be kinda hot to be able to do a video with my boyfriend. Thanks for the idea!” I saw that he was about to try to hoist himself up to head to the couch, but his belly bumped up against the bottom of the table and knocked him back down. He glanced up at the pull rope, and then just sighed ever so slightly. He settled back down and then reached over to grab a pitcher of the weight gain shake from the fridge. He waved me away to get dressed in my bedroom, and he pressed play on the video camera to start his next Mukbang.

“Hey, everybody. Mark of the Beast here. Or MarcObese as you’ve suggested I call myself. I’m thinking about the new name. I like it. It’s better than the cheesy metal name that I thought of. Anyway, I’ve got this pitcher of really fattening protein shake that my awesome stepbrother made. He’s the one that cooks a lot of the food you see on this channel. He’s a chef at this awesome restaurant in our town. He doesn’t want me to mention the name but it’s amazing. I’m just gonna go and rant about judgmental people at the gym while I finish this shake. Buckle up guys, I have a lot to say. Now it’s probably been a while since I’ve been at the gym. I didn’t really go back after that bullshit with moving day. Fuck those guys. I’ve just been focused on eating what I want, and living my best life. I’m glad that you guys are coming along for the ride. Although I doubt that if I did go back to the gym, it would be the same one I used to go to, the ones with all those judgy bitches that were there last time. So anyway, I struggled a little bit pulling open the door to the gym because it was uphill and I was just getting a little out of breath. OK? Not a big deal. And then this judgy twig of a woman goes ‘maybe you should pick up the barbells instead of the bars of chocolate tubbo!’ And I go ‘Fuck you! I’m gonna have twice as much junk food as I was going to today, that’ll show you!’ So anyway…”

I heard Marco trailer off after I cast one glance into the living room as I saw that he had already finished about a quarter of the pitcher when I went into the bathroom, closing the door and turned on the water to take my shower. My plan was going perfectly. Once he got to about 550 pounds, it was gonna be time to move on to phase 3. I just wanted to give it a little bit more time for his Mukbang channel to become his “career”.

Once some helpful person had pointed his channel out to the gainer and encourager scene, guys from all over the world started coming out of the woodwork and being so nice to him. Giving him money just to eat food he wanted to eat anyway. To Marco, it was a dream come true. But my dreams for Marco were just getting started. The days when I couldn’t bring people home because he was taking up all the space in the living room recording his videos? That time was coming to a close, I had a feeling. The water rushed over my svelte, naked body, and I thought of how much fun I could have in that living room when Marco finally figured out why he got the big bedroom, in the place I was paying for.

///

Some time later, after Jared had quietly left, Marco shut the camera off. It was an OK video. Like a lot of his videos, he did it as a livestream where he made most of the money, release it as a video a while later, and then film a little bonus video at the same time where he would eat a little treat, based on the audience’s suggestion, and that bonus video would only be available on the Patreon. Overall, he would do about one pair of videos every day or two and between the money he made during the videos (and the money he made on the Patreon broken up per week), he ended up making about $100-$200 a week. It wasn’t much, but his channel was growing pretty quickly.

It had been a few hours since he had plunked himself down on his bench to have breakfast, and he had about a half an hour or so until people started to arrive with food for lunch. Then Jared was going to be coming back to drop off some food after the lunch rush around 2:30 or so so he had only a little bit of time before he would inevitably be woken up by someone, so he decided the best thing he could do was just put on one of the music channels on the TV and take a nap on the couch. He looked up at the rope, reached up and used all his upper body strength to pull himself up. His body felt so bloated and weighed down after eating so much, he thought to himself.

He wasn’t aware that since he overate at every single meal that heavy feeling wasn’t being bloated from his last meal, but the fact that he was growing ever closer to 600 pounds. He could feel his body shake as he waddled the short distance to the couch, and then thought better of it, and waddled back to his bedroom to go take a piss before he stretched out on the couch.

He waddled over to the toilet and grabbed the rope that was tied to a hook on the wall, and he looped it around underneath his belly, and held the loose end in his other hand, and that’s what he used to pull his belly up and out of the way, so that he could piss without pissing all over the bottom part of his belly, which sometimes was in the way now. It was another one of his stepbrother’s ingenious tricks. He was so grateful for Jared. Not having to worry about going out to buy food to fill his belly, not having to worry about cooking everything, not having to worry about rent and paying the bills. Keeping his parents off of his back? Jared ran interference about everything, so Marco could just worry about growing his channel, starting up his Mukbang business, and enjoying his life.

That done, he glanced at himself in the vanity mirror, backing up, so he could feel the tile against the soft fat behind his shoulder blades, and his large buttocks pressed against the tile. It was the only way he could take in his whole body as he saw his wide, flabby body, staring back at him. He looked at it, and smiled. Sure, he had accepted that he might be way fatter than Jared had ever been, but when Jared was fat, he looked like a flabby loser, Makos still felt like he was doing Jared a favor by making fun of him. Especially given how hot and in-control Jared had turned out. It was the push Jared needed to get the kind of life that he had now. Sure, Marco had been trying to get Jared to break his diet, but as it turned out, all of that, stuffing his face in front of Jared had given Jared the motivation to keep at it. It looked like Marco wasn’t the only one that was motivated by spite. He saw all the fat rolls and cellulite piling on top of his neck, making it so that he couldn’t really check behind him anymore because there was just too much fat on the way. He couldn’t really bend over and touch his toes anymore. When he needed to put on shoes for some reason, like, if Nate wanted to take him out for a date at a buffet, they had to be slip-ons, and he almost never wore socks. It was just too hard. He looked at his obese form in the mirror, and felt like he looked like a man was imposing and took up space. He didn’t look like the flabby loser that Jared had been, even though he was approaching twice old Jared’s size. The truth was, all of the little inconveniences didn’t really bother him because it was always only slightly more inconvenient than it had been a few weeks ago.

Maybe the extra food was catching up to him though.

He felt his leg muscles and knees protest at keeping him standing for only the few minutes it had been. He turned to the side and looked at his giant belly hanging down. His tits hanging on top of his belly like half deflated beach balls and he loved that size. He loved how much space he took up and how much his body pissed off so many people who just gave him dirty looks and words of fake concern. All of those haters on his channel were only fueling his drive. None of them were really taking care of him and thinking about what he wants, except for Jared. He was a good one. Marco shook his belly as much as he could reach. He glanced at the clock in the bathroom and noticed that he only had about 20 minutes or so before people might start knocking on the door So he waddled back to the living room, piled all of the junk food and leftovers on the table in front of and beside him on the sofa, and he went back to watching the TV, hoping that he might get lucky and open the door for a delivery driver. Before he sat down, he need to remember to grab both remotes, because it was getting harder and harder to hoist himself back up again. It was a really low sofa, he told himself. It was even tough for Jared to get off of, after he came home drunk from the bars.

End of Part 1

[arielhopepeace]

Welcome, my loves, to another Joel Miller fanfic! Please be sure to read the trigger warnings before reading this story since this one focuses on the traumatic past of y/n ❤️ it shows how she’s able to push past the trauma to find love in a man again. This is something I have personal experience with, and I know how hard it can be. So, I’m hoping that it may be a comfort to anybody who needs it. It certainly was comforting to write 💕

She is a successful 25 year old lawyer, and Joel is a successful 35 year old dad who owns his own carpentry business and seeks out y/n for help! This was a story suggestion from a good friend of mine, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Part two is here

18+ only

Tw: smut, talk of sexual assault, trauma flashbacks, anxiety, panic attacks, age gap, talk of death of loved ones, talk of drug abuse

Word count: 7,500

   "Ms. Y/l/n, your three o' clock is here," my receptionist says gently over the intercom.

I let out a preemptive sigh, squaring my shoulders as I adjust myself in my chair. It's not common for me to take on male clients, being that I'm not particularly fond of them.

The only man in my life is my dad. Even though he lives about an hour away, we still talk every day with the occasional FaceTime chat so that we can see each other when our schedules are too busy for in-person meetings. He's my rock. He got me through the most difficult times in my life, and worked two jobs just to put me through college.

Thanks to him, I'm now an accomplished lawyer at twenty-five years old. I owe my life to my dad, and I know that no other man could ever live up to everything he's done for me. It doesn't matter if they tried. I'd never trust them, anyway.

"Send him in," my voice barks.

It's not Cynthia's fault that I'm on edge about a man coming into my office. It's only that he's the first man I'll have been alone with since...him; the name that I never allow to pass my lips, the name that any time I hear it out in public it makes me cringe and spark that bit of fear in my chest. He is the reason for my total disrespect and mistrust for men, because he showed me how truly evil they can be.

There's a knock on my office door, and I let out a short, clipped entry to the client. He steps in and closes the door behind himself, the lock clicking only promoting my apprehension for accepting his case. I wish my boss wouldn't have talked me into it; wish he wouldn't have made a fuss about me not accepting a male client and how it's not ethical. I can accept whatever client I damn well please, and I don't want a man telling me otherwise. But I have to keep my job. It's always been my dream to be a lawyer. It was my father's dream, too, but he could never afford the schooling. That's why he worked so hard to make sure I got in. He wanted it for me as badly as he wanted it for himself.

"Hi, I'm Joel Miller," the man's voice interrupts me from mindlessly shuffling through papers on my desk.

When I turn my gaze up to his I feel myself gulp, flicking my eyes briefly over to the shut door before having them settle back onto his. They're soft and brown, inviting, and seeming wholly innocent. His skin is tanned and smooth, only having slight wrinkles at the creases of his eyes. He has dark hair that's a bit longer, resulting in small, half-curls scattered sporadically on his head.

His hand is extended to mine, and I stand, reluctantly taking it to maintain professionalism. I never should've accepted a male client. My heart rate must be through the roof at this point, my palms a sweaty mess that he probably took notice of. God, get it together, y/n. It's your job.

"How can I help you today, Mr. Miller?" My voice projects smoothly, not having a hint of anxiety in it.

How did I manage to pull that off?

He shifts a bit in his seat before his eyes meet mine, still having that magnetic, gentle demeanor to them. "Well, I just wanted to say thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

I smile with a nod, even though I didn't really have a choice. My boss was so heavily insisting that I chose a male client, that he basically threw this guy into my lap.

"Of course, Mr. Miller."

"I own Miller Carpentry over on Hugh street," he gestures a tanned finger in the general direction, "and recently I hired a few new people to go do some jobs independently without me being a shadow. Well, that was a mistake. One of them took the money from a few jobs and never gave me, the company, a percentage of it."

My pen glides across the paper as I take notes of his claim, trying not to focus on the fact that we're alone in the room. I make bullet points of everything I'd like to incorporate if this gets brought to court, adding potential selling points beneath each sentence.

"And I'm assuming you tried to reach out and you had no luck?"

Joel shrugs. "It's like he's a ghost. Can't find him anywhere."

"How much did he make off with? Do you know?"

He exhales sharply. "At least five grand."

My eyes flick to the closed door again, letting out a gentle sigh as I try to relax. "I'll contact a friend at the police station and see if he can't find your worker. If he doesn't pay, he'll go to jail and end up having to pay you back one way or another."

"I contacted police, and they said to find a lawyer in the meantime because he most likely won't just give it up."

I scoff as I roll my eyes. "People are untrustworthy."

Joel beams at me once I stop scribbling, my tense body shifting again. "In the ten years I've had my business, this is the first time this has happened, so I'd like to say that's not true."

"Ah, so you're a carpenter and an optimist. Sounds exhausting."

He laughs heartily, the sound slightly relaxing me. "I think it's only normal for lawyers to be pessimists. You deal with criminals for a living."

"I like to avoid taking on cases that make me uncomfortable, Mr. Miller. So, no. I don't normally deal with criminals."

His fingers scratch at his slight facial hair as he continues smiling. The hairs are gray mixed with mostly black, like a medley of salt and pepper.

"I don't blame you. I couldn't do it. It's mentally demanding, I'm sure."

My mouth twists up slightly. "It entertains my therapist."

Joel chuckles, my shoulders relaxing a bit more. "I wanted to discuss cost with you. How much will you cost if we go to court and we win?"

"When you win, it'll be about two and a half grand."

He breathes out heavily. "Okay, I can swing that. I'll be able to use the half of what I'm owed from him, then."

"There's cheaper lawyers out there, Mr. Miller. If finances are an issue, I can refer you to someone else."

He shakes his head vehemently. "A friend suggested you to me, and she said you were great. So, I thought it would be best to go to someone that has a good reputation."

I beam. "I'm glad to hear good things about me."

Joel grins back, flashing a neat, white smile. I'm ashamed to admit that I find him incredibly attractive. It's been years since I've looked at a man in any way other than a predator, but Joel seems—kind. I'm immediately putting an end to those thoughts, shaking my head in disgust for betraying the promise I made to myself when I was seventeen. I'll never let a man in again, and I intend on keeping that promise.

Clearing my throat, I pick up my pen again. "May I have your home and email addresses, please?"

He recites them to me and I scribble them down, nodding my thanks.

"I'll keep in touch via email with any updates on what I hear back. Could I also get the man's first and last name?"

"Kevin Bridges," Joel says bitterly. "Bastard."

I chuckle, a sudden buzzing interrupting the meeting. Joel pulls his phone out and gives me an apologetic look before he answers the call.

"Hi, honey, I'm in an important meeting. Are you okay?" Joel hums sweetly.

Must be his wife, right? I glance over to his left hand and notice an empty ring finger. Okay, his girlfriend, then.

"I'll be home soon. Just stay with Mrs. Cheshire until I get there, okay? I don't want you home alone." His eyes briefly flick to mine and I smile. "Okay. I love you too, Sarah. Bye." Joel sighs with raised brows as he beams. "I'm sorry, that was my daughter."

"Oh," I grin, for some reason feeling relieved. "How old is she?"

"Ten. She thinks she's a full-grown adult who can stay home unsupervised. I just have her go by the neighbor's when I don't make it home in time after school. She's an old lady that loves my Sarah to death."

My chest aches when he talks about his daughter, so much enthusiasm and evident love in his words. It reminds me of my dad and I, and it makes me miss him desperately.

"Sarah seems like a lucky girl to have you as her dad," I smile. "It's just me and my dad, too. My mom left the picture when I was very little. Drugs."

Joel's brows knit with what I can only describe as sympathy. I don't want him to pity me. "I'm sorry. Sarah's mom died when she was a baby, so she doesn't really know what it's like to have a mom."

"I'm sorry for your loss." My voice is robotic, as I always have to be to detach myself from my clients. "Poor girl," I say with a hint of my genuine emotion.

"Ah, she's wonderful. Highest grades in her class, and quick as a whip," he laughs fondly. "Definitely gets it from her mom."

I chuckle, clearing my throat as I stand, holding my hand out. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Miller. I'll be in touch."

He stands, too, taking my palm into his and giving a firm shake. "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you again."

I nod, practically sprinting to the door to allow the fresh air into my suffocating office. Joel walks out with a grin, my eyes briefly following him before I disappear behind my desk again. It feels like I can finally breathe now that he's not here. It's not that I felt unsafe or uncomfortable in his presence, but it's exactly that fact that concerns me. Last time I felt comfortable around a man, horrible things happened. I can't let a man force his power over me ever again. I won't let it happen.

My house is empty as it always is when I walk in, the crisp air greeting me in the delicious way it does to alleviate my warmed body from the scorching summer weather. It's July, and I'm convinced the sweltering heat will be the death of me.

I kick off my heels and strip off my stockings from beneath my skirt, laying them on my neatly made bed before walking naked to the shower. The hot water is a welcoming feeling after the stress of the day.

Joel Miller is the first male stranger I've been alone in a room with since I was seventeen, which was eight years ago. He was friendly and handsome, but he also needed something from me. Men are always nice to you when they need something. I can't think about his soft brown eyes and expect them to be just as inviting when he no longer needs my help. 

How am I going to continue meeting him in private until his case is solved? I'm so damned anxious the entire time, and it eats me alive. Yes, he seems kind, but so do all men until it's their time to strike and you instantly become their prey.

Panic consumes me, reliving the horrible, violent memories that I've experienced as I fall to the shower floor, holding myself tightly in my arms. I was so young, and somebody that I loved and trusted took advantage of me. Of course I've somewhat moved passed the sexual abuse, but there's always my days where something triggers my brain, and I'm in a rough state for the remainder of my time awake.

Today is one of those days. Joel's presence set me into a downward spiral of all-consuming panic. I'm tempted to plead to my boss about it, and beg for him to be reassigned elsewhere, but I know he won't have it without an explanation.

Nobody knows what happened to me when I was seventeen besides my dad and a few police officers. My ex-boyfriend who abused me, Justin, got a few months in jail since he was also seventeen. The man who helped him, however, was twenty-four at the time and got sentenced to one year in prison. I wanted the judge to grant a lengthier sentence, but since it was their first offenses, he cut them some slack.

Being a lawyer, I've had several opportunities to defend sexual assault victims, and I have. I've always advocated for lengthier sentences, and almost every time I'm met with a judge who takes my suggestion. I can't help but wonder if Joel's friend who suggested me to him was a woman who I've helped with a sexual assault case.

I'm glad that it's not common knowledge amongst the public about my past. It's not something I want people knowing and pitying me for, or thinking I'd be too emotional to do my job. Never once have I lost my composure in a court room during one of those cases, and I never will.

Before anything else, I'm a professional, and I don't let my emotions get the best of me at work. I'm not the type to express my feelings, either, not even to my dad. He always knows when something's bothering me, but I normally change the subject and brush it off as to just being tired. It's just hard to open up. I hate doing it.

  Later as I lay in bed, slightly wine-drunk and ready for sleep, I'm reminded of the gentle burr of Joel Miller's voice. His hand was heavy and calloused in mine, making me feel as if someone had just given me a massive weight to hold. His tanned skin flashes in my mind, and I can't help but wonder what he smells like. Does he have a specific scent that smells just as manly as he appears?

Without realizing, I'm grinning with my eyes closed, picturing my fingers in his loose, soft-looking hair as I inhale whatever aroma lingers on his neck.

***

  My eyes scan the document in front of me, nodding as I copy a few pieces of information and type it into my email for a client. A slight ding hums through my computer, and I instantly click on my email notification.

To: Y/n  Y/l/n

Subject: Rat Bastard

  Hi, Ms. Y/l/n,

I was just reaching out to let you know that the son of a bitch was finally caught. He agreed to give me back what was owed to me, and wants to avoid court and jail at all costs. I decided to not press charges even though he's still a bastard. Thank you again for all of your help so quickly. I really appreciate it. I know that you don't need to be paid unless you win the case, but I still took up your time. If you ever need some carpentry work done around your house, I'll do whatever you need for free. Please don't hesitate to call or text if you ever need anything. My number is 276-555-0909. Thank you again.

Joel Miller

A little sigh leaves my curled lips, my heart drumming in my chest. I'm relieved yet saddened that Joel won't be joining me in my office anymore. Of course I know that I can contact him at any time, but I don't need any carpentry work done around the house even a little bit.

My washer has been on the fritz, leaking a bit almost every time I do laundry, but I was just going to buy a new one. The one I have isn't old, there's just something wrong with it. Should I ask Joel for help with it?

No, that's ridiculous, right?

How insane am I that I'm letting a strange man into my house just because I want to spend some time around him? No, I'm crazy. I can't do that. What if he hurt me? What if he tried to attack me?

I immediately halt my racing thoughts, closing his email and resuming my other one. Just because I find Joel attractive, doesn't mean that I can just start letting my sky high walls down. He's still a man, and that makes him dangerous.

  At home, I finish my call with my dad. We caught up on our current work lives and anything new that's happened. It's luckily all the same as usual, and we made plans to see each other soon.

My bare feet patter into my laundry room, seeing that there's a puddle on the floor, making me scoff and curse. It feels like the universe is telling me to call Joel and have him come over to help me, but I'm too afraid.

If I invite him over, he'll be the first man ever in this house, and I don't want to forsake my promise. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I let out a sharp exhale, pulling up the email app to copy Joel's number, pasting it into my phone. My thumb hovers over the "call" option, my heart feeling like it's about to leap out of my chest.

Before I realize what I've done, the line is trilling, and it's too late to hang up now.

"Hello?" he answers curiously.

"Hi, Mr. Miller. It's y/n  y/l/n."

"Oh, hi!" Joel says brightly. "I take it you got my email, then."

"Yes," I say shyly, clearing my throat. "Um, are you busy?"

The line is quiet for a moment, then he speaks. "No, actually. I just settled into the couch with Sarah to watch some show that she likes, but I don't think she cares whether I'm here to watch it or not," he laughs. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"How much do you know about fixing washing machines?"

Joel chuckles. "I'm a very handy man, Ms. Y/l/n."

"Mine has been leaking for a bit, and I just walked into my laundry room to find a huge puddle. You think you can help?"

"Definitely. I'll grab my tools. Could you send me your address? I'll leave now."

I clear my throat, panic constricting it. "Uh, if you're comfortable with it, you can bring Sarah. I know you said you usually leave her with the neighbor if you can't supervise her."

Joel laughs lightly. "I'm not sure if she'll want to come, but I'll ask her. Thank you for thinking of her. That's sweet of you."

I giggle, the thought of Sarah being here comforting me. "Of course. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

"Bye." I hang up.

I'm suddenly scrambling to my bathroom, drying my wet feet on the carpet that lays in front of the sink. My fingers run through my hair in an anxious manner,  attempting to tame it a bit. I opt for throwing it up into a messy bun, reapplying my subtle makeup just a bit to my eyes.

Why am I trying to look good for Joel? God knows. I haven't been this way in years, but something about him just draws me in. Everything in my mind is screaming at me to not give in, and to stay alone as I had planned to. It's safer when you're alone. There's no one here to hurt you. It's just you and solitude.

  When I hear my doorbell, my heart picks up its pace, and the panic has settled in to my bones. I'm letting in deep breaths, breathing them out slowly. Joel won't hurt me, right? He's only here to fix my washer. He wouldn't do anything else...right?

I swing open the door and see Joel with a smile fitted onto his face, and a large toolbox in his right hand. He's wearing dark blue jeans that hang from his hips, a white v-neck shirt and large brown work boots on his feet.

My eyes search for his daughter, desperately hoping that she's here. "Hi, thanks for coming by." I gesture him inside.

Joel nods and steps in, standing in the living room. "Your house is beautiful. When did you buy it?"

"Last year," my voice croaks, making me clear it. "But thank you. I like it a lot. It's my favorite home I've ever lived in."

He chuckles, his eyes briefly on the floor before they meet mine again. "Care to show me to your flood?"

I laugh, beginning to walk toward the laundry room. I open the door, revealing the several towels that I've laid out to clean up the mess. Joel steps right onto them, his boots leaving a distinct print in the fabric.

"Did you turn the water off to the house?"

I nod. "Yes, actually. I figured that might be a problem."

Joel settles down onto his knees on the damp tile, opening the washer door. "Just don't want to be sprayed."

My eyes linger back to the closed front door, shifting in the entryway of the laundry room. "So, Sarah didn't want to come, I take it?"

"Nah, she wanted to watch her show. I told you she didn't care if I was there or not."

I giggle, admiring the flex of his biceps as he stretches into the washer. "I'm sorry to pull you away."

"No, don't be," he beams at me. "I'm more than happy to help you."

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles. "Water would be fine, and please call me Joel."

"Right," I smile, my cheeks feeling hot.

I leave the laundry room, making my way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, walking it back to Joel where half of his body is inside of the washing machine. My lingering gaze admires the strength of his thighs in his jeans. He's such a man.

God, what is he doing to me? I never think like this. Not even about handsome celebrities I see on tv.

"Here you go," I finally say, setting the bottle down beside him. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"No. I think I see your problem, though."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask hopefully. "What is it?"

"There's a bit of a hole in your water connection. I'm not sure how that happened, but you'll need a new pipe."

I sigh, shaking my head. "How much do those cost?"

He leans out of the washer, standing up. "Free, because I'm buying it."

My eyebrows fit together. "Joel, I can't have you purchase the part and install it. It's too much."

"You helped me. Now I want to help you."

"I barely did anything."

He smiles vastly. "But you were willing to do everything."

"It's just my job." My voice is small.

Joel eyes me. "Do you not like people doing things for you?"

I sink in to myself, my cheeks feeling hot. "I don't know. I guess not."

"Hm," he smirks. "Would you like to go to the supply store with me for a new hose?"

"Sure," I say before even thinking.

Joel beams as we exit the room, my hands shaking as I slide on my shoes. I grip my keys, feeling them jingle more than necessary from my trembling as I lock the front door. I turn around to see a large black truck, relaxing a bit at the roominess of the cab.

Why did I agree to having Joel drive me around town? The last man who ever drove me anywhere was Justin, and I was stuck where he took me, having horrible things done to me with no escape. The memory makes me wince as panic twists in my chest.

Joel opens my door for me, and I look to him with a shocked expression. He holds his hand out for me to grab and surprisingly I do, loading myself into the passenger seat of his truck.

He steps into the driver's seat, my eyes adverted away from him as I buckle my seatbelt. My leg is bouncing anxiously, my gaze fixed out the passenger window.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks gently from beside me as we drive down my road.

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "Sorry, just a long day."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

My head turns to look at him, and he's giving me a gentle smile back, the wrinkles by his eyes deepening. His eyes are still that puppy-dog style brown that is alluring and comforting all at once. He isn't looking at me any differently than he was in my office, and he no longer needs anything from me.

"Oh, uh, just a difficult case, I guess. I can't give too many details, you know," I fib.

He nods, "Of course. Well, from what I've heard, you're a wonderful lawyer. My friend raved about you."

"Who's your friend?"

"Vivian Meyers. You helped her with her sexual assault case."

My body stiffens. Damn, I knew it. "Oh, yes. I remember her."

His eyes soften as they look to me. "You really helped her get justice."

"It's just what should've been done. Too many of those creeps get away with light sentences. I don't let that happen, if I can help it."

He beams wide at me, turning his gaze back to the road. "You're an incredible woman, y/n."

My cheeks warm to his compliment, my body wiggling in my seat. "Thank you."

  After the supply store, Joel gets right to work on the washing machine, shoving his body behind it to unscrew the faulty hose on the outside to replace it. My stomach turns with hunger, my hand flying to it to grip it tightly. I was far too anxious to eat earlier, and now I'm suffering the consequences of that decision.

"Can I treat you to dinner?" I ask Joel, gazing at his legs since it's the only part of him I can see.

He laughs. "You don't have to repay me for this, y/n. I really don't mind."

"C'mon," I laugh, "please? You've been so kind."

Joel lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, making me giggle. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"

"Ooo, something simple. I'm not much of a cook."

He laughs. "That makes two of us. I'm good with anything. I'm not picky."

"Chinese food?"

"God, my stomach is growling just thinking about it. Yes, please," he says loudly.

I chuckle as I pull out my phone, adding a few things to the basket that I want. "What do you like? I ordered chicken and broccoli, egg rolls, pork fried rice, and steamed dumplings."

"Oh, god," he groans playfully, the sound stirring something unfamiliar within me. "Yes. All of that sounds perfect. Maybe just add a general tso's chicken and that'll be good. That's my favorite."

"You got it."

"I'll be done in about five minutes. The old hose is almost off," he grunts as he exerts himself. "Forgive me for not being dainty for dinner."

I laugh, watching him reach his hand out for the new hose. "Please. I'm just in my comfy home clothes. You're fine."

"I'm a mess and I smell like old water. You sure you want me to stay?"

"Joel, please," I almost scold. "Yes, I want you to stay."

My eyes widen as I realize what I've just said. I've broken so many of my rules today, and I don't know what to make of it. I've let him in my house, let him drive me around, and now I'm insisting that he stays for dinner. What is this man doing to me?

  Joel pops out from behind the washing machine a bit later, the Chinese food saying it'll arrive in twenty minutes. His white shirt is dampened on the side, causing it to be a bit see through. His body looks soft, but still in shape. I'm not even sure how old he is, but I know he has to be older than me by at least a few years since he has a daughter that's ten.

My eyes linger on his wet shirt. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you to change in to."

He shrugs with a smile. "If you don't mind, neither do I." His eyes look around as we leave the laundry room, making our way to the living room. "So, you live alone, I take it?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Being alone is one of my favorite things."

Joel chuckles. "Not me. I couldn't stand it if I didn't have Sarah. She's a blessing for many reasons."

I smile as I walk into my kitchen, bending down into my fridge to pull out an amber bottle. "Beer?"

He nods. "Didn't take you for a beer drinker."

"I keep them around for my dad, actually," I chuckle. "More of a wine drinker, if I'm honest."

Joel twists off the top and discards it on the counter, leaning against it as I take out my wine that I was drinking just last night, thinking of the man standing before me as I fell asleep.

"Where does your dad live?" he asks.

"Oh, about an hour from here. We see each other when we can since we both work like crazy."

He grins wide at me. "What does he do?"

"He works in a warehouse. I'm always worried he's going to hurt himself, but it keeps him in good shape."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. How old is he?"

"He's forty-five. My mom and him had me when they were both young."

Joel's brows furrow, seemingly wanting to say something upsetting, but it looks like he decides against it when his face changes. "Yeah, my wife and I had Sarah when I was twenty-five."

He's thirty-five?! God, he's still so young, but older than me by a decent amount. Why do I find that so attractive?

"You said your wife passed away," I begin cautiously, "how did she die?"

He gives me a soft, small smile. "Car accident. She was on her way to work and someone t-boned her on the driver's side going sixty miles an hour. They told me it was quick and she didn't feel anything."

My hand reaches out and grips his forearm. "God, Joel, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It was nine years ago. I've come to terms with it and learned how to cope. It took a long time, but—" his voice trails off. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be depressing."

"No! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I suddenly move my hand, realizing that it was lingering against his skin.

"Y/n," he chuckles, shaking his head, "you can always ask me anything."

We stand there smiling at each other for a moment, the air feeling electrically charged between us. I take a sharp breath in as the doorbell ding rips me from my little daydreaming bubble, and I slightly jump before scurrying away to the front door.

The young girl hands me the food and I thank her as she leaves, gathering the bags in my hands and settling them down gently onto the coffee table.

"Not the dining room?" Joel asks with a slight chuckle.

I grab the remote and flip on the tv. "Thought we could do with some entertainment."

He leaves to go to the kitchen, returning with my wine and his beer, placing them on the table beside the food. "I'm good with anything."

Joel sits beside me on the couch, and I'm hyper-aware of how close he is. I pull out all of the food, quickly finishing the wine in my glass before I pour myself some more.

I turn on a random movie that's playing, not really knowing what it is. "Chopsticks?" I hand him a pair.

Joel takes them and breaks them apart, giving me a slight smirk. "Do you want me to grab a plate?"

"Only if you want them. I'm fine with just eating out of the containers. Doing dishes might be my least favorite thing to do."

He laughs loudly, his head cocked back. "For someone who doesn't like doing dishes, your house is extremely clean."

"Well, I'm a bit of a control freak, I guess. I'm lazy, but my brain doesn't let me be."

Joel chuckles, flashing that gorgeous smile of his. "Being a control freak probably comes from being a lawyer."

No, it's because I don't trust anybody and I must do everything that I can myself.

"Yeah," I lie, chuckling slightly.

I dig my chopsticks into the chicken, pushing the meat and broccoli between the thin wood before bringing it to my lips. I groan at the flavor, my stomach growling in delight.

"This is so good," I moan, nodding my head.

Joel takes a bite and rolls his eyes in enjoyment. "This is exactly what I needed. I usually eat dinner by now."

"Me, too. I was just too distracted with the washer. I'm sorry for dragging you out here."

He shakes his head. "I wanted to help. Please, stop apologizing. You don't ever have to apologize to me."

I swallow the dry lump of attraction that has formed in my throat, leaning forward to pour myself more wine, quickly downing the glass.

Joel laughs as he glances at me. "I guess today was really tough, then?"

No, being near you is next to impossible.

"Yes," I lie again, pouring myself another glass. "I'm glad you got your money back. I'm surprised he was so willing to give it back once he was caught. Most people would fight it."

He shrugs. "He's stupid."

I laugh, shoveling some rice into my mouth with a hand beneath the chopsticks to prevent any rice from falling onto the floor.

"Most men are," I blurt out.

Joel laughs. "I'd love to say you're wrong, but you're not."

I laugh with him, the alcohol lightening my anxieties. "You're not, though."

"Oh, that's not true," he chuckles. "I've done some really stupid stuff."

"Like what?"

He leans back slightly, wiping his mouth with one of the provided napkins. "When I was a teenager, probably about sixteen, I really wanted this girl to like me. So, I thought the cool thing would be to light fireworks off in front of her house. I swore she would think it was the most romantic gesture she's ever seen. Well, turns out that the tree she had in her front yard was incredibly flammable."

I gasp with my hand to my mouth. "Oh, my god!"

Joel nods with a vast grin. "Yup. Tree burned to the ground and she never spoke to me again. Damn thing nearly fell onto her house! I was lucky her parents didn't try to get me in trouble for that. They were furious, but they knew it wasn't my intention."

I laugh loudly, my head cocked back. "I can't believe that. That's hilarious!"

"She did not think so."

"I've never had anyone do something so crazy for me before." My laughter fades, flashing back to Justin and his friend cornering me in that unfamiliar room.

Quickly, I down more wine, my leg beginning to bounce again as I attempt to push away the negative memories that are replaying in my head. No, no, no. This can't happen now.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Joel asks, cutting me back to reality.

My body is trembling, and I'm doing my best to remain calm, but the terror in my mind won't stop. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Y/n, you're shaking." Joel goes to reach out but I quickly retreat. "Was it something I said?"

"No!" my voice answers quickly. "No, Joel, you're fine."

He lets out a sharp sigh. "You're having a panic attack, I can tell. I had them all the time after my wife died. Talk to me, y/n. What's happening?"

"I can't tell you, Joel. It's—too much."

He backs away a bit as he nods. "Okay, how about I tell you another story about how I'm stupid?"

My eyes squeeze shut, nodding my head. "Tell me."

"When Sarah was born, I hadn't gotten much sleep that night before my wife went into labor because I was so nervous about being a dad. I hadn't been eating or sleeping well for a few days, actually. Anyway, she finally goes into labor and I'm wide awake, running through the house to collect all of her things and get her to the hospital. Well, when we get there, and she's finally having the baby, I faint."

I laugh, my heart rate beginning to settle. "You fainted?!"

"It wasn't the blood, the screams, or any of that. It's because I freaked myself out so bad that I couldn't sleep or eat! So, I basically missed my daughter's birth because I'm an idiot."

My lips quiver up. "You were scared to be a dad?"

"Oh, definitely," he nods, beginning to smile, "but once I held Sarah, I knew being a dad is what I'm meant to do with my life. I loved her from the second I saw her, and I still get that feeling every time I look at her. That girl has my whole heart with her."

My brows slant, emotion welling up in my chest that I force down. "Joel, you're an amazing dad. I can already tell that."

"Thanks," he laughs shyly. "I do my best. It's hard being two parents."

"My dad has been two parents from the time I was Sarah's age. He's everything to me, and I know you're everything to her, too. My dad got two jobs just to get me through law school, something he wanted but never had the money for."

"He sounds like an amazing man."

I nod with a small smile. "He is."

Joel's eyes flick to my legs, then back up to my gaze. "Your legs stopped bouncing. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I breathe out slowly. "Thank you, Joel."

He nods. "You're welcome." His eyes flick between mine. "Do you get those often?"

"Not super often, no. Just lately I've been having some triggers, I guess."

Joel frowns with furrowed brows. "What I always tried to do was just take deep breaths and distract my brain by watching something light. Have you tried that?"

I nod with a smirk. "Therapist recommended."

He chuckles. "Mine too."

"You helped a lot, honestly. My dad is the only one who was ever able to help talk me down from an episode."

Joel looks to me with those soft eyes, my living room light shining off the velvety brown of them. "That's a very nice compliment. I had to go through them completely alone. I only had my one year old daughter when they were at their worst. If you ever want to reach out when you're panicking, you can. You shouldn't have to go through them alone."

My gaze softens, those tears trying to make their way to the surface again but I shoo them away. "That means a lot, Joel. Thank you."

"You're welcome, y/n."

  After the movie ends, and I'm tipsy from the wine, I lean onto Joel's shoulder, my eyes beginning to flutter closed. I feel calm in this moment beside him, and I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or just Joel.

"Y/n?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"It's getting late and I have to get back to Sarah. Will you be okay if I leave?"

I nod, lifting my head to look up at him. "Of course."

His eyes search mine, concern etched into them. "Promise me you'll call or text if you're panicking again. I don't want you going through them alone."

"You're sweet to care, Joel," I beam at him. "Thank you."

He grins as his slightly glares at me. "You didn't promise."

"That's because I can't. I don't open up or express my feelings to anybody, not even my dad."

Joel goes to touch my face, but stops himself. "I was that way too. I promise it's better to not face whatever you're going through alone."

With a steady hand, I grab his and place it on my cheek. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier. I'm embarrassed."

He tucks some hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face. "No, don't be. I'm glad I was here to help."

I lean into his touch, my eyes closing a bit to savor the feeling of his skin on mine. When I open them, I see Joel gazing at me, giving me a look that I know is want. Normally it would completely freak me out, but the tipsy affect of the wine mixed with Joel's gentle aura have me feeling incredibly—safe.

"You can," I say softly, my eyes on his lips.

Joel cocks his head. "I can, what?"

"Kiss me. I can see that you want to."

He chuckles slightly, rubbing his thumb against my cheek. "Do you want me to?"

I nod. "Yes."

Joel slowly leans in, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest as he gently takes my lips against his. His mouth is gentle and eager, my own mouth parting to allow him to slip his tongue into it. He does exactly that, eliciting a quiet moan from my throat. He tastes of beer and Chinese food, mixed with his own unique flavor. It's intoxicating, making me feel more drunk on him than the wine.

My fingers go into his hair, gently tugging to control the kiss as our tongues swirl together. My body is alight with a passion I've never experienced, and there's an ache between my legs. Joel's right hand stays on my face, the other at the small of my back, pulling me in closer to him.

I part our lips and kiss his stubbly jaw, moving down to his neck and throat. He lets out a small groan of approval, the sound further arousing me.

"Y/n," he breathes out, stopping me in my tracks. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but we should stop."

My lips come to a halt from his bobbing Adam's apple, moving my face into view of his. "You want to stop?"

He strokes my face, his gaze having a bit of heat to it. "I've thought you were beautiful since the moment I walked into your office, and I've wanted to kiss you all night. That being said, you drank a bit, and I don't want you doing something you'll regret."

I stare at him with a dumbfounded expression, the rate of my heart only increasing from the realization that Joel might actually be a good guy.

"I—" my voice trails off, "I can't believe you said that."

Joel cocks his head as he chuckles. "Why? Who the hell would take advantage of a drunk woman?"

"A lot of people."

"A lot of fucking creeps," he mutters. "It makes me a bit sad that you're impressed by the bare minimum from a man. Have you ever had a decent boyfriend?"

With tears filling my eyes, I shake my head. "No."

Joel's eyes soften as he pulls me in to a tight hug, my body weakening in his hold. He embraces me for a moment, the tears finally spilling over my lids and onto my cheeks. Is this the way men are supposed to treat women? Am I supposed to feel this safe and cherished? I barely know him, yet I feel like he'd go to war to protect me.

"Joel," I say through my sniffling.

He pulls away, swiping my tears away with his thumbs. "Yes, y/n?"

My shoulders sag as I let out a large sigh. "Would you like to go on a date with me some time?"

Joel beams, nodding his head. "Definitely. This Saturday?"

I giggle, "I'd love to."

  When Joel leaves, he gives me a soft, lingering kiss at the front door, smiling as I watch him walk away with his tool kit in his hand. My body stays leaning against the doorframe until he drives away, letting out a sigh of pure contentment.

I haven't felt this giddy since Justin and I first started dating, but the fuzzy feelings towards him were short-lived. We didn't date for very long before we slept together for the first time, and after that it was like something switched in him. I was upset that I gave him my virginity, but I trusted him when I did. It was probably about two weeks later when him and his friend took me to his house and had their way with me.

My eyes close as the vivid images of them come back, doing my best to shoo them from my mind. I'd like to be honest with Joel and tell him just how scared I am of being intimate with him, but I don't want to freak him out.

Maybe I will after our date this Saturday. I was more than ready and willing to jump his bones tonight, a feeling I never thought I'd get again. But Joel seems to be changing me, and though I'm terrified, I'm somehow also hopeful that it'll be okay with him.

****

[yourfavewriteress]

right under our noses (part 5) | colton parayko

Teaser: "I feel it in my gut, Colt."

“What are you doing right now?” Jayne’s voice sounded in your ear seconds after you answered her call. You had gotten home from work nearly two hours ago, taking time to only shower then collapse in your living room.

"Laying on my couch watching Netflix,” you responded.

“Well, we’re having some people over after 8 and I want you to come,” She said.

“Last minute invite, nice," You rolled your eyes. "What does 'some people' mean?"

“The team and close friends,” Was the reply. It was never just the "team and close friends."

“I don’t feel like doing my makeup, Jayne,” You groaned. “Or, even getting dressed for that matter. I just laid down.”

“Come on, please?” She pleaded. “It’s lowkey so you don’t have to really wear makeup if you don’t want to.”

"But I would need to change. Do you know how much energy that would require?"

"If we waited around for you to have energy, we would never see you!" You heard Alex yell in the background.

"Why am I always on speaker?"

"You have something to hide from me, Y/L/N?"

“Anyway,” You rolled your eyes. “Will jeans and a t-shirt satisfy you guys? It doesn't sound like I can get out of this.”

“That sounds perfect,” Jayne responded. “Just come by whenever you’re ready.”

“Do you want me to bring anything?” 

“Nope, we’re all good. See you when you get here!”

“Bye.”

You definitely took your time getting ready. Although you said you wouldn't put in any effort, you ended up showering, doing light makeup, AND coordinating a presentable outfit.

By the time you pulled into Jayne and Alex's gate, you could tell quite the crowd had already started to form inside. You took a deep breath before pushing your way through the doors and the growing crowd. Saying hi to a few people as you made your way to the kitchen, you made a beeline for the Vodka bottle.

"I thought you weren't going to show," Alex appeared next to you within a few seconds.

"I considered it," You smiled.

"How's the job search going?"

You rolled your eyes, "Is that really the first question you want to ask me when I have a glass bottle in my hand?"

He laughed loudly, voice echoing over the music, "Understood, boss."

"I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together?" You asked.

"Is that what Jayne said?"

"Your wife is a liar."

"No argument there," He shook his head. "But, if you need a minute, the patio is always pretty quiet, because I always tell the guys to stay away from it."

"I'll probably head out there for a bit before I put on my social smile."

Alex left you alone in the kitchen, wheels already turning in his head. He pulled his wife, Jayne, away from her friends and into their bedroom.

"What? She was just going to give me what moisturizer she's been using!"

"One, your skin is beautiful, baby," She smiled at that. "Two, Y/N just got here and I think she's going to the patio."

"Is she okay? Should I go check on her?"

"She's fine. And no, you shouldn't go, but maybe someone else. If I'm the one to tell him to go to the patio, it's going to be obvious."

"Well, he was telling me earlier that he had a headache from the music."

"You have to be slick about it," Alex coached. "If he even smells bullshit, he'll figure it out once he gets out there."

"Okay, so what do I do?"

****

You made a deal with yourself: you could only stay outside for four songs. Anything more than that, you should have just stayed home. You knew Jayne wouldn't invite you out if the other half of the experiment wasn't here, and you had to make yourself seen.

The third song started to play, and you began to coach yourself to be the social butterfly you knew you could be. All before...

“Can I join you?” You turned around at the sound of the voice. You smiled widely when you locked eyes with Colton. My savior.

“Yes, of course,” You slid over, making room for him on the stairs. “Get tired of the crowd?”

“A little bit," He laughed. "This song is a fan favorite and I don't think my head can take the yelling. Plus, I saw you out here and wanted to make sure you were good."

“Oh,” I waved him off. “I’m fine, just needed to feel fresh air for a second.”

“It is getting a little tight in there now,” He commented, looking over his shoulder to Alex and Jayne’s home which had continued to fill up more and more in the past half hour.

“How’s your night going?” You asked.

He shrugged, “Pretty good, this was the only thing I got out of bed for today.”

“That sounds like such an amazing day,” You nodded. “I’m jealous.”

“You worked today?” Nod again. “When was your last day off?”

You thought back, “Last Tuesday, maybe? I’m not sure.”

“You’ve worked ten days straight?”

“I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” You sighed. 

“I’m not going to say anything,” He held up his hands. “You’re an adult, you make your own decisions.”

“Thank you,” You said, letting out a laugh after.

“But, you deserve better.”

“I remember our deal at the bar, Colton," You pointed out. “I plan on holding up my end, trust me.”

“How do you even work that much?”

"Well, not everyone is on an NHL contracted salary," You responded. "I do have to pay my bills."

"I get that part, but how do you actually make it through every day when you hate your job?"

You smiled, incidentally leaning closer to him as you reached into my left pocket. You pulled out the bag of gummy worms you had brought, “Sugar.”

Colton took a slightly deeper breath when he got a waft of your shampoo as you leaned closer to him. He had never smelled anything like it, like you. And your smile. His eyes flickered to your lips and back up before he could even register it.

You were doing things to him that even he had never felt before. That’s why it was so easy for him to mistake the goosebumps you gave him for being from the windy night air.

“No way,” Colton laughed. “The only thing that keeps me going sometimes is a soda.”

“Yeah, it’s either that or candy,” You agreed. “Sometimes I get worried that I might get diabetes.”

“Me too,” He responded. “If you had to pick one food or drink to have an unlimited supply of for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“One?” You asked, earning a nod. “Hm, I’m not really sure. I feel like if I had an unlimited supply of gummy worms, that’d be great. They definitely raise the prices once a month.”

“You’d get a lot of cavities,” Colton commented.

“I wouldn’t eat it all at once, but to not have to buy it every single time I have a craving? Heaven,” You sighed, happily.

He smiled as he shook his head, “Heaven with cavities.”

“You’re one to talk,” You chirped lightly. “You’re going to get diabetes with all the sugar you consume from those cokes. At least my gummy worms are sugar-free.”

He rolled his eyes, “Then, does that really help? Anything sugar free is a scam.”

You laughed at him, your head thrown back. “It tastes the same!”

“I can’t believe you,” He shook his head, smiling. “Phony.”

A comfortable silence fell over you both for a few moments.

“You guys had a game yesterday, right?” You asked as another song began to play inside.

“Yeah,” He nodded. 

“I’m taking it didn’t go as planned?” 

“It was alright,” He shrugged lightly, looking back over Alex and Jayne’s yard. 

“That’s exactly what I said when you asked about work at the bar,” You teased, nudging his shoulder. “Should I be encouraging you to quit, too?”

He laughed, “Not at all.”

“Yeah, my job doesn’t come with traveling the country.” You said. “Honestly, I’m still super confused about hockey and the calls that refs make. I mostly just let Jayne translate for me.”

Laughing, “Refs definitely make bullshit calls a lot, though.”

“Is that what happened yesterday? I didn’t catch the game but Jayne was texting me about it.”

He shrugged, “There were a couple of questionable calls, but we lost because we’re not playing the way we should be.”

“Well, I guess you guys are going to be busy at your next practice".

“I just feel like my game has been lacking so much lately,” Colton sighed, eyes still trained on the yard ahead. “And, then we just keep losing so that solidifies it.”

“Or, it solidifies that the entire team needs to try something different?” You suggested, raising your eyebrows at him. “It is a team sport, right? You can’t take all the heat for yourself, just like you can’t take all the praise.”

“I’m pretty sure I deserve the heat, though.”

“Okay, break it down for me, since I’m a hockey idiot,” You started, turning to face him. “Tell me what you think is going wrong.”

“You’re not an idiot,” He rolled his eyes. “And, do you really want me to bore you with hockey at a party? You don't want to go back inside and have fun?

“To be honest, I lied before. I’m actually out here because I didn’t want to come in the first place but Jayne begged and also lied about how many people would be here. Which is very common for her, so I don't know why I fell for it.”

“I’m obligated to be here because of the team,” He let out a laugh.

“So, we both got screwed,” You laughed, making him smile. “I was going to just sit in silence anyway, so if you want to talk about hockey, I’ll listen.”

It was a genuine offer, and Colton knew that as he looked into your eyes. He felt something at that moment, but he really couldn’t figure out what it was. It was almost a calming feeling, like all the stresses he had been feeling were subdued for the time that he was with you. 

He explained everything to you, way more than you were ever going to be able to remember but you watched him relax as he talked. What started as a self-deprecating account turned into Colton going through some of his favorite hockey moments, of his career and of all time. 

“I wish I had something to be this invested in,” You let out a laugh after he had finished going over the team’s Stanley Cup run.

“Well, what are you interested in?” He turned to you, leaning back against the patio. He took another sip of his drink. “Now it’s your turn to talk.”

And, talk, you did. You surprised yourself with how much you told Colton, but he had given the same amount. It was only fair. You were reminded then how much you got along with him. Even though you guys only spoke at times like these where the team was gathered with close friends, he was always one of the easiest people to talk to. It wasn’t uncommon for you both to be catching up at parties.

Colton enjoyed your conversation and realized that you both had a lot more in common than he originally thought. And, you could clearly talk about anything. Well, obviously. We’re friends, he thought.

And, Alex. There was a voice in Colton’s head, telling him that you were the person he was being set up with. The louder voice, however, reminded him that Alex cared too much about you to ever set you up with someone on the team, let alone him. 

Colton vowed at that moment to completely remove you from his list of potential matches. It would only hurt him in the end, to wish it was you and then be disappointed. He felt that it was nearly impossible for it to happen, and he actually enjoyed having you as someone to talk to. She’s a friend. He had to respect Alex’s wishes, and if he was being honest, he thought you were out of his league too.

“Hey, Y/N?” You both turned at the sound of a voice behind you. “Jayne is looking for you.”

“Oh, okay,” You smiled at Ryan. “I’ll be right in.”

He nodded, disappearing back inside. 

“She’s probably going to make me drink something with her so I don’t know how conversational I’ll be after that.”

Colton laughed, “Maybe another time, then.”

“Definitely next time,” You corrected, pushing yourself up to your feet. “I want to hear all about the team’s crazy comeback, and your point streak.”

“How do you know that’s gonna happen?” He laughed. “What if you just jinxed it?”

“I feel it in my gut, Colt.” You said, right before you disappeared inside to find Jayne. 

Although you didn’t realize it, your words stuck with Colton. Not just your belief in him, but the nickname, too. It wasn’t the first time you’ve used it, but it was the first time it gave him goosebumps. 

A few hours later, as the party died down and people began to disperse, you were having a very tipsy conversation with an also very tipsy Jayne. “I’m really glad you came.”

“Honestly,” You paused, pursing your lips. “It was bad, at all. I actually talked to Colton for a bit and then drank, probably a bit too much, with Vince.”

“Really?” She quickly found something to occupy her eyes with because although she was drunk, there was no way she was going to blow up her own plan. “How was that? Your talk with Colton, I mean. We all know how Vince gets at these.”

“None of your business,” You joked with a serious tone. Jayne froze, looking back at you.

“Uh-”

“-Dude, I was just kidding,” You furrowed your eyebrows curiously at her with a laugh. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” She recovered, taking a sip of her drink again. "I thought something happened."

“Okay,” You trailed off. In your drunken state, you didn’t bother to further question. “It was actually pretty nice, though. We talked about hockey and my job, nothing serious.”

“That’s cool,” Jayne said. “I’m glad, he’s been feeling down lately.”

“Yeah, I could tell. I just told him he doesn’t need to be because all I hear about him from the other guys is how good he is. Tonight was actually the first night I somewhat understood hockey,” You shrugged absentmindedly. Not knowing how to respond without blurting out “You’re perfect for each other!” Jayne began to recount what she could remember of her night. 

Later that night, Alex and Jayne settled in bed after making sure you were asleep in their guest room. 

“How drunk are you?” Alex laughed at his wife, pulling back the covers for her.

“Just a little,” Jayne responded with a laugh. “But, I think we’re making headway with the plan.”

Raising his eyebrows, “How? What did I miss?”

“Y/N and Colton were on the steps for at least an hour talking tonight!” Jayne whispered excitedly. “She said it was really nice.”

“Holy shit,” Alex said. “She figured it out, then?”

“No, no, I don’t think she has a clue. Maybe if she was sober, she would have put two and two together, but I tried not to pry too much and make it obvious.”

“What did they talk about?”

“She said this was the first night she actually understood anything about hockey.” Alex smiled, rolling his eyes. “And, I guess they talked about her job, too.”

“Well, it had to be good if they talked for an hour, right?” Alex shrugged. “Is that really where he disappeared to? I remember him saying he was getting a drink and then I didn't see him for a while.”

“I guess so.”

“Now that I think about it, he did seem like he was in a better mood when he came back,” Alex said.

“Do you think they’re going to figure it out?”

“I feel like Y/N is going to catch on sooner than we think,” Alex said, looking up at the ceiling. “She over analyzes everything.”

“I don’t think so," Jayne replied. "Do you see the way Colton looks at her?"

"No, how?" Alex looked over at her.

"Like she puts the fucking stars in the sky," Jayne laughed. "I only noticed it tonight, but I think he may already have it figured out."

"I highly doubt it, he would have said something to me."

"Well, until either of them say anything, the plan is still in motion. We should talk about next steps in the morning. I have to sleep."

[modern-day-bard]

Worth The Feeling

Content Warning: 18+ This series contains explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 15

"Say Ciao to Mia, Ava!" Lana sings as I enter our hotel room. I glance up and see Mia's smiling face on Lana's screen.

"Ciao, Mia!" I try to match Lana's enthusiasm, smiling and waving to her phone.

Lana must have arrived home an hour or so before me. She has her dark curls wrapped in a towel, and she already has her pajamas on. She continues to ramble to Mia about her day and what she's seen of Italy so far, mostly from inside moving vehicles. And to her girlfriend's credit, Mia seems completely delighted to just listen to her, smiling and nodding along.

I try not to eavesdrop, changing into a different pair of shorts than the one I wore earlier, reaching for some sandals instead of the walking shoes I'd worn all day. I tie my hair back into a ponytail and grab my purse.

"I'm going for a walk," I half-whisper, not wanting to interrupt Lana's stream of consciousness.

Lana whips her head to the side, sitting up to answer me. "Uh, um. Okay. Mia can I call you back in like one minute?" Mia agrees, and I call out Ciao once more before Lana hangs up.

"You didn't have to do that, I was planning on a walk anyway," I say.

"No, I know..." Lana takes her hair out of the towel, slowly wringing it in her hands. "I just wanted to touch base with you before you go, just in case I'm asleep again later."

"Touch base?" I smirk. "You sound like you're my boss."

Lana gives me a returning smirk, but only for a split second. "Ava, where did you go last night?"

I know from our previous conversation, and at least four years of friendship, that I can't get away with a lie.

"What if I told you I was on another walk?"

Lana gives me an incredulous smile. "If you did, I would ask you why your bathing suit is hanging up to dry after your 'walk.'" She emphasizes her point by making air-quotations.

My face burned. Deciding not to lie right now is probably the first correct decision I've made all day.

"Okay, then I went for a swim."

Lana waits. I say nothing.

"Alone?" She asks finally.

"No."

"Ava," She whines, and I can see her irritation growing. "When have you ever been one to withhold information?"

I take a deep breath. After my childish behavior today, there might not be anything left to tell her. And if I start talking now about what happened last night, my jealousy today, and my horrid attempt at flirting with the wrong man...I'll feel it too much. I need to stick to my original plan of walking my feelings off.

"Just–not now, okay? I promise I will tell you everything, but I'm not feeling myself today. I...I need to clear my head."

Lana's face softens, and I can see that she wants to say more. But being the friend that she is, she accepts my words with a nod. "Okay. Don't be out too late, and be safe."

I give her a small smile and try not to sense the double meaning in her words, the same words she said to me the other day.

"I will."

- - -

If there were a perfect place to try and organize your complicated thoughts about relationships and self-worth, I think Milan would be it. Not that I have sorted through everything walking around for the past hour, but the distraction of the city itself has calmed me down enough to try. We hadn't gotten off work too late tonight, so there were a variety of shops and restaurants still open. Seeing the beautiful architecture up close and walking past the small street vendors and musicians made me feel like my problems were a lot further away. I had originally pulled out my headphones from my purse, determined to shut out the world as much as possible. But as soon as the cobblestones were beneath my feet, and I caught a side glance of a canal running through the streets, the thought of shutting out the world felt silly. Here I was in a place that I had previously only dreamed about, and I was using my time by allowing John, of all people, to get in my head.

Somewhere between the canal and the third musician I passed, I recognized that the only reason I behaved that way earlier was to get back at John, not Javi. Javi had been nothing but honest with me. He had respected my wishes, even when he wanted to speak to me on set. He had hesitated purely out of respect for my career, and got in contact with his lawyer to protect me from anything that might come forward from those photos. And every time he touched me was a question, not a demand. It never felt as if he thought anything was owed to him.

The jealousy was real, there was no doubt about that. I didn't love seeing his hands roam all over Emma today, but I knew that was his job. But the anger was from John and John alone. He made me feel like I wasn't enough, and that I was always doomed to be second best. And walking over to Blake earlier, I think I was trying to take back control of a situation that ended four years ago. I wanted Javi to know that his scene with Emma didn't bother me, even though it clearly did. But some younger part of me thought that my meager attempt at flirting with Blake would prove that I don't care if the man I care about has his hands on someone else. That somehow, this would prove to myself that I didn't care about what happened with John anymore, that it didn't scare me anymore. But it did.

Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, Lana had been right. I'm not capable of having a fling. And nothing about the way my heart constricted at the sight of Javi made me feel as though this was fling territory. I knew deep down why I had always rejected every guy Lana had recommended to me. It was so they couldn't have the opportunity to reject me. Now that something great has fallen into my lap, I want to hide again. But looking at where I'm standing right now, smelling the flowers and listening to a language filled with love all around me, I realize that the only way John wins is if I keep allowing his mistakes to influence my own.

So I opened my phone, and decided not to let my past interfere with my future.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

[norgbelulah]

Wait, can I do two? If I can, then from "to know me as hardly golden is to know me all wrong":

When he can’t stand her anymore, Boyd joins him in the bar and she pouts and tries to touch him until Raylan shoves her away. Boyd meets her eyes for half a second and she recoils from his look more than she does from Raylan’s rejection.

“Stay gone,” Boyd says and sits down beside him.

She flees the bar as Raylan turns to him. Elbows on the bartop, Raylan leans into Boyd, brushing his forehead and nose across his cheekbone, to the sweet spot beneath his ear. He stills there and breathes while Boyd eyes everyone else until they look away.

“I ain’t sorry,” Raylan tells him.

“I don’t care,” Boyd replies.

Raylan laughs, but it’s hard and broken. Boyd kisses his cheek. “You done now?”

“Fuck you.”

Boyd smiles and they go home and do it for hours.

I think what I love most about this bit of this fic is that it's an illustration that like, everything that criminal!Boyd and Raylan do is a performance. Like, in canon, so much of what Boyd has to do to be a successful crime boss etc etc is put on a show. So in this fic, when Raylan is mad at Boyd--when their entire life and relationship is a performance for all of Harlan County--he fuckin tells everyone by flagrantly carrying on with some girl he doesn't care about. It's a performance of public infidelity and private frustration but also a way to show people he's still...a man, too I guess? Like, see everyone? I have no trouble getting a woman, I'll get one when I'm pissed off at my boyfriend who I CHOOSE to be with, and we can still fuck you up etc etc

A lot of my headcanons/interpretations of Boyd/Raylan just generally have to do with carving out specifically how bisexual Raylan Givens is, like how he operates and also performs his bisexuality. Like, because of his clear attraction to and gift for seducing beautiful women, I find it hard to make a case that he's specifically gay in fic unless it's a comp het style situation (which is a thing I did not know existed when I wrote this fic).

Boyd, for the most part (since so much of what he does is a performance canonically and I think that could be argued extends to his relationships) I have no problem writing as gay. Often I like to think of him as kind of demisexual, as we only see him really fall in canon for someone he's known all his life, who's been close to him. So in fic, when you add in a lifelong love of his coal-mining buddy, like, it's not hard to make that leap.

Also also, I think when I was writing this I wanted to use this scene to make clear that like, Boyd knows Raylan is staying in Harlan, doing all these terrible things, because he loves Boyd so there isn't very much Raylan could do or anything he could ask for that Boyd wouldn't forgive or give to him. Boyd has the life he wants at Raylan's sufferance. He's got to be flexible or he might lose him.

This answer feels all over the place. Anyway, these boys are working through some stuff and I love them because they are tiny babies who barely know what they are up to. I'm not sure I thought about them that way when I wrote this, but I am older now and so that's how I feel about it these days. They're trying so hard and they're having a rough time, but they're gonna make it because of the power of true love!