#it needs polishing in some areas but

[peekychu]

Best part of work is getting to thingk about my Funny Animal Friends headworld & characters & stuff.

I decided that everyone hatches from eggs LOL. It’s like pkmn/chao logic where no matter the species they come from an egg, and they just appear rather than being birthed from a parent xD Eggs are taken care of at the nursery. Once they’ve hatched, kids are raised at the daycare section of the nursery.

Drawings below r old but accurate!

[ssreeder]

I saw that other ask about Zuko ending up firelord in LIAB and I'd just like to add on to that my thoughts abt it in the original show- was it just me or did it feel really out of character for Iroh to try and push Zuko into a major leadership role at 16?? Like how did he possibly think that was a good idea, what with all the seriously heavy burdens that it would bring on to Zuko? Not to mention Zuko has had barely any chance to be a regular teenager for a second throughout the show, what with the 3 year banishment and then he's immediately pushed to be firelord.. Also the fact that firelord feels really unfitting for Zuko?? He's shown to not be a good leader. I feel like coming out of a 3 year banishment and awful childhood I don't think he'd want to be surrounded by constant reminders of his abusive father and not to mention be in the same role his *abusive father* was in... Sorry for the impromptu and slightly incomprehensible rant... this is still one of my biggest gripes in the show. Btw your writing is wonderful and im so excited for the next chapter of LIAB! Have a great day :D

Hiiii!! (here is another impromptu & very incomprehensible rant)

I think Zuko would have been a good fire lord if he was given the proper training & support. But I have to say I think it was completely in character for iroh to do that to Zuko…

I enjoy iroh but I think his character is EXTREMELY flawed & his way of helping zuko develop from a young angry hurt 13 year old boy could have been handled a lot better. Yeah yeah he isn’t zukos dad but he signed up to mentor and be there for Zuko so he could have mentored him a little more. (a lot more - I don’t think is was likely Zuko had any growth from 13-16 because he was pretty awful at season 1 and disrespected everyone including iroh and was in so much denial about his situation it was SCARY)

I could go on & on about iroh and his missed opportunities with zuko but I think irohs “Zuko will overcome and he is good inside” way of thinking is what prompted him to plop his teenage nephew on that throne even though he was like 3 days into his redemption (ok yeah it was maybe a month? Idk but not very long). The anger, sadness, self doubt, unhealthy coping mechanisms were all still there - but iroh is very…. ‘He’s got this I believe in him’

Even if it means zukos going to struggle and stumble over himself and work extra hard to try and be a good leader with (let’s face it) almost no healthy leadership experience. (5 minutes into being aangs fire bending trainer he is yelling at him. his idea of how to get aang to take training more seriously is to attack him - yeah let’s give him a fucking country! Yiiipeeeeeeee)

If iroh cared about Zuko he would hang up his tea uniform, take his RIGHTFUL place as fire lord and have Zuko become his crowned prince and start learning how to be fire lord while UNCLEEEEE took the initial burden of becoming fire lord right after the war. But nahhhh let’s invent boba or whatever he was fucking doing in BSS

*deep breath* sorry… I promise I LIKE iroh… I just….. DISAGREE with his methods.

Sorry about my rant anon haha

[thegeminisage]

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Relationship: Chris Argent/Derek Hale Characters: Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Kate Argent, Original Characters, Minor Characters, Araya (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Asexual Derek Hale, Stone Top Derek Hale, Wolf Derek Hale, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Lovers to Friends, Friends With Benefits, Age Difference, Explicit Consent, Cohabitation, Grief/Mourning, Beards (Facial Hair), Trauma, Nightmares, Flashbacks, Unreliable Narrator, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Underage, Sexual Dysfunction, Warning: Kate Argent, Minor Character Death, Blow Jobs, Grief Beards, Asexual Character Words: 55,331 Summary: Derek insists on coming along with Chris Argent and the Calaveras on the hunt for Kate, so he can see her dead for good. While following her trail back to Beacon Hills, they come to understand some hard truths about both each other and themselves, and struggle to find the reason why, after losing nearly everyone they've ever loved, they're still here.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale, Derek Hale & Laura Hale Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Chris Argent Additional Tags: Wolf Derek Hale, Grief/Mourning, Codependency, Cohabitation Words: 2,278 Summary: Derek's first day back home.

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Relationships: Chris Argent/Derek Hale, Chris Argent & Scott McCall, Derek Hale & Scott McCall, Past Relationships:, Derek Hale/Paige, Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Chris Argent/Original Character(s), Chris Argent/Victoria Argent, Allison Argent & Derek Hale Characters: Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Original Characters, Mentioned:, Kate Argent, Victoria Argent, Allison Argent, Gerard Argent Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Memory Loss, Repressed Memories, Guilt, Redemption, Codependency, Cohabitation, Asexual Character, Asexual Derek Hale, Sexual Dysfunction, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Murder Words: 36,500 Summary: Twenty-four hours after the death of his sister, Chris Argent wakes in Derek Hale's loft with his hands trembling too badly to load and fire a gun, and no matter what he does, he can't make them stop. He made a promise to protect Beacon Hills in Allison's stead, but now he has to decide how he carries on her legacy when he doesn't know if he can fight, if he can ever lay his guilt to rest, and if he's truly capable of doing good when he has already done so much harm.

...i wrote this series in 2017/2018 as teen wolf was coming to a close, but i didn't post them here since i was a little shy about my rarepair and also they're Extremely Explicit and i had a lot of kids following me for skeleton art. since those kids are all grown up now (?!?!?), here these finally are, on this blog for the first time Ever. the first fic is the best one, obviously - it's almost a ship manifesto, and i am proud to report i have won over skeptics with it <3 derek hale i love you forever

[autoneurotic]

forgot i’m trying to move out by June (hopefully. our budget and savings have been good for the first time since like. 2020) and my place is just soooo hit. it’s so bad. i’ve been here for like fiiive? years now? we have so much shit. why do i have two coffee tables and five end tables. why do i have a non-functioning sewing machine just taking up space. no less than seven laptops in this place and only one works. we suffer both from Well Maybe We’ll Need This Later Or Can Get It Fixed Later syndrome.

[apocalypticdemon]

i think i might be, finally, getting closer to a final layout for this. will i actually manage to make it slot into place before school starts? probably not. but i will try.

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

[lady-djarin]

independent contractor

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

fully inspired by this post

warnings/tags: no outbreak au, no sarah mentioned, but we can always pretend she’s at collage or something, infidelity by reader(reader’s hubby is an asshole), contractor!joel, age gap (late 20s/mid 50s) , masterbation (m), smelling of panties(?), sexting, oral (receiving), p in v (unprotected- don’t do that!!) general smut so children leave!! mdni 18+

word count: 6.1k

a/n: i understand not everyone is going to dig the infidelity thing so i get that, if you are not into that please just scroll on, thank you :)

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was a beautiful dress but damn if it wasn’t complicated, the back had all these complicated buttons and clasps to hold it closed. You had managed to get yourself into the thin fabric but just as you needed your husband to close the dress, he had conveniently disappeared. He had been dressed for the party for a while and had been running around the house trying to organize the vendors. It was all for some charity thing he was throwing through his company. He was the CEO of some big company that even after 5 years of marriage you still didn’t understand. Something to do with finance? Maybe.

“Hon? Are you up here?” You huffed as you realized he was not in ear shot. Your husband had a habit of doing this, leaving right when you needed him in favor of something he needed.

You can now admit to yourself that the marriage you were in was a little rushed. Ok, maybe more than rushed. You were engaged within three months of meeting and married in less than a year. The first year of marriage was amazing, he would shower you with gifts and trips and practically worshiped the ground you walk on. It now felt like he only did this to rope you in. He began to take multiple long ‘work trips’ every month and you soon found evidence of an affair (or multiple). Once, there was long hair all over his clothes that was definitely not his or yours along with red lipstick smudged on a white shirt. Was he not even trying to hide it or did he just not care?

You had always told yourself that ‘you’d never be with a cheater’ and you wouldn’t fall prey to men who used women. Well, after a quick marriage, that you begged your parents to go along with, you felt like you had nowhere else to go. Your parents would not be happy and would surely find a way to blame you, and all your friends were also his. So, you kept your head high as your husband did as he pleased. You were now a forgotten trophy on the shelf he felt didn’t need polishing anymore. So you did as you pleased, with his money. One of the things you liked spending his money on was renovations to the house that you were usually alone in.

Currently, you were renovating the other side of the house to become a library/craft area for yourself. The contractor was actually at the house doing a walk through before the party got started. He happened to hear you calling for your husband from down the hall and came to your rescue.

“Sorry to disturb you ma’am, I think he went downstairs,” he was looking down when he first walked in, probably to make sure you were decent. What a gentleman.

“Of course he did, uhg,” you fumbled with the clasps behind your back and failed to make a difference.

“I can go get ‘em for ya?”

“No that’s ok Joel, thank you,” Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction. He had been so great from the beginning, knowing exactly what you wanted for the library, seeing your vision immediately. He was very much the southern Texan gentleman, ‘yes ma’am, no ma’am’, no matter how many times you told him you hated it. “and please, Joel. I’m not a ma’am.” Your smile drew his eyes up.

”My mama would kill me if she heard me call ya’ anythin’ but, ma’am,” he stepped into the room, already coming to help even with your refusal. “I’m more delicate than ya think, im sure i can handle some buttons,” he came up behind you in the mirror and his soft touch on your shoulder blade made you inhale. You held the dress against your chest making sure he had room to fasten the small clasps. You caught his gaze in the mirror that was fixated on the dip in the front of the dress.

He matched your smile.

His surprisingly nimble fingers secure every last fastening and it feels like you can hear your own heart beating out of your chest. It had been a long time since you were looked at the way Joel was looking at you. He was a handsome man, big and rugged but soft in his features. He had these deep brown eyes that you could get lost in and lips that would make a nun blush. He was affecting you in ways your husband hadn’t done in years, he was turning you on. A complete stranger was turning you on and you didn’t really feel guilty.

Did that make you a terrible person?

You know what, fuck it. Your husband cheated and left you alone in life, you were entitled to some flirting every now and then.

“There ya are darlin’,” dear lord, his voice. The deep southern drawl made your panties wet.

“Thank you… Joel.”

”Enjoy the party,” watching him walk away was the hardest thing all night, aside from having to laugh at all your husband’s bad jokes all night. All night your mind was occupied by the sexy contractor.

~

It had been about a week since the party and the library reno was well underway. Joel and his team, including the other half of Miller Construction, his brother Tommy, were working tirelessly. In that last week your husband had been in and out of the house at weird times. On this particular day he left early in the morning without saying so much as a word to you. You used the day to mope around on your phone or read but what kept stealing your attention was the attractive contractor.

His team wasn’t around so the house was truly empty, the quiet was starting to drive you mad. As you wandered up the winding staircase, you found a sweatshirt draped over the railing. That damn husband, he leaves shit everywhere. Without thinking much of it, you threw the hoodie on as you found the library under construction.

The sweatshirt smells like sawdust and something distinctly man. That's different from what your husband normally smells like. The thought of him buying new cologne for some mistress almost made your blood boil, if you truly loved him anymore it would.

The library was really starting to come together, the plans on the table laid out the new shelves and built in table being put in and you dreamed of the days you would spend in there. The rest of your day was spent inside, no husband in sight so you did what you wanted, camped out on the couch with snacks galore and bad tv. Your husband eventually came home, after midnight, to find you passed out on the couch. You were roused by him, he woke you to send you off to bed. He used to carry you.

“Hey, get to bed, it's late… New hoodie?” Your eyebrows narrowed and you looked at him confused.

“What? It’s yours?”

”No it's not, I don't work at ‘Miller Construction’…” his tone felt like sandpaper against your skin. Also, have you been wearing Joel’s sweatshirt this whole time?

~

You wore it almost every day. Refusing to even wash it, it would get rid of the smell. The smell of him. It was like a drug, anytime your husband left you alone in that big house you wrapped yourself in Joel.

The rumble of the engine told you someone was at the house, but the deep southern drawl was what told you it was Joel. You felt giddy, like a girl with her first crush. You were already wearing the sweatshirt because you were expecting him today. He was leading his team of guys up to the library, telling them what to get started on. You made your way up there, under the guise of greeting Joel and asking if they need anything. In reality you wanted to see his reaction to you wearing his clothes.

“Morning Joel, you guys need anything?”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. He noticed right away, scanning the hoodie and his gaze set your skin on fire. You felt your cheeks heat up as he stepped closer, the air was thick with tension and you immediately felt the mood change. His lips curved up in the corner slightly as he lowered his voice.

He looked handsome as always, the salt and pepper in his beard and hair was somehow very attractive to you. He was older for sure but you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t part of the attraction.

“Nice sweatshirt you got there…,” you could practically feel his heart beating just inches from you. “Miller.”

You had to strangle down a breath hearing his voice drop an octave like that, teasing you. This was real… Joel Miller, your contractor, was flirting with you. And you liked it, a lot. Not only the blatantly wrong flirting but the fact that your husband could come home at any time. It was making your skin flush with arousal and it felt like he could sense it somehow.

“I can wash it and get it back to you,” you wanted to gauge how into this he was. He did not disappoint.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jesus christ.

“Keep it sugar, looks better on ya anyway,” he left you there, finally with enough room to breathe without inhaling his intoxicating cologne. Holy shit, holy shit!

Your mind never strayed far from the older man, you seemed to fixate on the memory of him crowding you in your own home. The rest of the day went smoothly, you went about your business as the Miller Construction crew worked on your new library. You could hear the men working upstairs and every time you heard that one specific rumbling southern drawl your heart stopped for just a beat.

You were screwed.

~

Joel’s day could not have been longer, though he was the only one that noticed. The rest of the crew worked through the day, trying to get their tasks done sooner rather than later to be able to go home on time. Meanwhile, he was thinking about the pretty wife of the man who is paying him. He knew it was wrong but damn if it didn’t feel good. He saw the way your husband acted around you the last few weeks, he was engaged in every conversation except ones with you. Joel could even tell that the man was cheating, he clearly wasn’t trying to hide it. That’s really the only reason he was letting himself indulge with you, that and you seemed to be on the same page as him.

He knew he was in trouble, he had already memorized your features, your lips haunting him most of all. Every time you spoke he was entranced, unable to look away from your mouth. This was so wrong, he was working for you and your husband. He couldn’t help it, you were perfect, everything he could ever want. He dreamed about feeling you under him and that thought kept him half hard in his jeans all day.

By the time he was set to leave he felt like if he didn’t get himself taken care of he was going to explode. All he could think about was you in that damn hoodie, and how he would bend you over with it on. He knew it would smell like you now, it would smell like both of you. As he hopped into his truck he was so distracted that he didn’t see you coming down the driveway towards his car.

“Hey Joel…” Fuck. “I just wanted to get this back to you before I forget.” The gray fabric already smelled like you from where you held it by his car window. Why were you giving it back? He told you to keep it.

”Oh thanks darlin’,” it wasn’t lost on him how your eyes sparkled at this nickname. You were in the most delicious little shorts, showing just enough of the tops of your thighs as you walked back into the house. Fuck, he felt like such a dirty old man. You were so much younger and bright and kind. He felt like he could never deserve you.

He threw the hoodie on the passenger seat as he felt another surge of guilt and arousal settle into this stomach. Just as he was about to pull onto the street, he noticed something much darker than the hoodie sticking out of the pocket. He pulled it to reveal a pair of lacy black panties.

His heart nearly stopped. He would have never expected this, a sweet girl like you leaving her panties in her contractors sweatshirt. His jeans became even tighter than before as he pulled the panties up to his face.

He really was a dirty old man.

They had clearly been worn and it made his head spin, they smelled like heaven and you, he worried he might cum at the smell alone. He needed to get home.

As he raced home with your underwear gripped in his hand, he battled his thoughts. He knew it was wrong to mess around with a married woman but he felt different with you already. You were like the light at the end of his very lonely tunnel, no one ever looked at him the way you did. He practically tore his front door off the hinges as he rushed up to his bedroom. He felt like a teenager with an uncontrollable boner trying to find release.

The black lace was tight in his grip as he shucked his jeans off, the constricting fabric making his blood boil. He pulled himself free and the first touch to his hard length caused a gravely moan to slip from his lips. Tension and heat gathered in his stomach as he stroked himself. His fingers were rough as they circled his weeping tip but he needed to feel relief. He couldn’t even get himself into the shower, he just dropped onto the edge of his bed and never stopped moving his hand.

Those dark panties were teasing him, you were teasing him. You had to be, maybe you were making fun of his obvious crush. No, there was no way you would have grinned like you did if you didn’t feel the same way. It was an offering, a way for you to make a move without being apparent.

Holy shit. You wanted him.

That made his lower muscles spasm suddenly and his orgasm started to barrel down his spine. He pictured you in your small shorts earlier that day and he lost it. A deep groan escaped his throat as he spilled all over his knuckles. He pumped until he was oversensitive, his whole body reacting until he fell back into the bed.

All night his brain juggled wanting nothing but you and telling himself it was wrong. And it was wrong, at least on paper, of course he shouldn’t be messing with a client's wife. Even if she wanted him back.

~

Last time you saw Joel outside his car was almost a week ago. It was driving you crazy. You worried that he took it the wrong way or didn’t even see them. You couldn’t decide if you should be mortified, nervous, turned on or all the above. Then your phone went off.

Usually the texts between you and Joel were regarding what materials or paint you wanted. Now it was something totally different.

5:04PM >Joel: Sorry I have not been to check on the progress of the library personally. There was an emergency at another job.

>Joel: Also, thank you for my gift.

Only someone like Joel would thank you for sneaking him a pair of your panties.

5:09PM <You: im glad you liked them

<You: i was a little worried…

Your heart was thundering in your chest. Your husband was right across the couch, engrossed in his baseball game more than you, per usual. Was it wrong to like this so much, the fact that he had no idea you were texting another man right now, in front of him.

5:12PM >Joel: Why would you be worried? It's the best gift anyone’s ever given me.

>Joel: Any man should be so lucky.

Your pulse kicked up again somehow. He was making it all sound so meaningful. Maybe it was to him. Maybe he never took it the wrong way. Maybe he took it exactly the right way.

5:14PM <You: did you use them?

There was a pause for a few minutes.

5:20PM >Joel: Jesus…

>Joel: I’m at work, darlin.

5:22PM <You: so?

5:25PM >Joel: You got a mouth on you, huh?

5:26PM <You: and i know how to use it

5:28PM >Joel: We might just have to have you prove yourself then.

5:30PM <You: just tell me when

5:31PM >Joel: You are dangerous, angel.

>Joel: I have them in my pocket right now.

>Joel: I couldn’t help myself.

Jesus, this man was going to be the death of you. He was carrying your panties around in his pocket, while he was at work. Your thighs instantly squeezed together and it was at that moment you decided.

Fuck it, he made you feel good and your husband clearly didn’t care about your needs. You needed a divorce, and not just because of Joel. It was about you finally doing what’s good for you.

Suddenly an idea came to you, admititly a very bad idea but again, fuck it.

5:36PM <You: hey, do you have any plans tonight?

5:37PM >Joel: You know darlin, I don’t.

Thank god.

5:38PM <You: what’s your address?

5:38PM >Joel: 7 Oak Village Rd. I get home at 7.

5:38PM <You: see you then

You needed a plan. Your husband wouldn’t really care if you made last minute plans, you just needed a reason. Since he barely takes the time to pay attention to you, he definitely doesn’t know your friends very well.

“Hey, I know this is super random, but my friend Ashley”(totally a fake friend) “just got dumped, Isn’t that awful? She wants me to come over so she’s not alone. Would you care if I spent the night with her?”

It wasn’t really an odd thing, you spent the night with friends before. You should feel bad for lying so easily like this but the thrill of it all was keeping you going. You knew he wouldn’t object but he barely even looked at you. A quick glance back before he focused on the tv again as he waved you off.

”Yea, I don’t care… Johnny’s coming over anyway. Have fun.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, you knew you should be upset but you were too used to it at this point. You went upstairs to pack a bag and get ready. It had been a long time since a booty call and you forgot how giddy it made you feel. Knowing you were going to a man's house who actually wanted you there and actually wanted you.

Once you showered and finished packing, you went down to head out the garage. Apparently while you were upstairs Johnny and many more came over and had taken over the couch as they all debated over some play in the game. You tried to get your husband's attention, calling his name and waving at him. Anger boiled over in your gut. Just another reason not to feel guilty about tonight.

You loaded up into the car and pulled out of the massive driveway without a regret in your heart. This was the beginning of a new chapter and it felt right in so many ways. Your skin was buzzing with arousal, you had been thinking of Joel’s thick hands that would soon be on you, throughout your whole shower.

Before you left the neighborhood you sent Joel a quick text.

7:13PM <You: on my way

7:14PM >Joel: Can’t wait.

You felt the heat creep up into your cheeks and down your neck. Your nerves did start to wear on you though, all the usual stuff; Will he like me? Do I look nice? Did I miss a spot shaving my legs? You decided to wear a thin silk slip dress/nightgown under a baggy zip up hoodie. You figured it was a good way to look ‘sloppy’ enough that your husband wouldn’t care, if he even looked your way. You made the short drive over to Joel’s neighborhood and your nerves seemed to melt away as you got closer. It was odd, normally this kind of thing would send your pulse skyrocketing but the thought of seeing Joel made you calm, almost serene. He definitely made your head swim with giddy arousal though.

You found the beautiful house marked ‘No. 7’ and knocked on the perfectly painted door. Of course his house was gorgeous, he was a contractor. Only moments went by until the door was pulled open by that very sexy looking contractor. His brown curls were slightly messy on his head and he wore some kind of faded shirt and loose sweatpants that hung way too low. You couldn’t look away.

“Hi darlin’,” he rubbed his neck and his cheeks went red. He was nervous.

“Hi,” you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face.

“Come in, here let me.” He gently took your bag from your shoulder and guided you to the couch where he had a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. The inside of his home was just as beautiful as the outside; the couch was large and comfortable, there was quiet music playing in the corner from an old school record player and books and plants littering the shelves. He came back and poured you both a glass and clinked the two together before you each took a long drink. He finally sat down and you turned so your feet were up against his leg, quickly feeling comfortable with him.

“I wasn’t sure if you would be ok… with me coming over.”

“Why?” God his southern accent was like honey.

“I don’t know, maybe it was…I was too forward.” You were sure why you felt the need to bring this up, maybe clear the air somehow. “I’m divorcing him, I can't do it anymore.” Saying it out loud made your heart lurch.

“I get it sweetheart, it ain’t fair that he treats ya’ that way.” You were leaning into each other at this point, unable to stop the magnetic pull between you. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand near your shoulder. He started to entwine his finger in your hair, his big brown eyes danced over your face and it made you almost want to shy away from his gaze.

“You don’t think I'm a terrible person?” You looked into his eyes finally, wanting to know how he felt about you, how he felt about this.

His fingers left your hair as his thumb brushed over your lips. “Y’not a terrible anythin’ darlin’,” then he moved.

He was on you before you could take another breath. He slotted his lips over yours, his tongue sliding between them. He devoured you, stole the breath from your lungs. It was all consuming the way he kissed you, it felt like he was starved and you were all he wanted to consume. He sat back and pulled you with him, your legs wrapping around his hips leaving your core right in his lap. His hand cupped both cheeks as you pressed yourself fully to him, your hips grinding down into his. Your baggy sweatshirt was obstructing your skin from touching his, you needed more and the fabric was too warm.

You leaned back and you finally got a good look at his face as you pulled the zipper down. His lips were swollen and red and his eyes were almost all pupils. After ripping the bulky fabric off he finally moved his hands to the rest of you. He traced your arms down to where your hands laid on your thighs, he then lightly ran his fingers up your back over the thin fabric of your nightgown.

“You are so… fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He sounded like he couldn’t catch his breath and yours caught in your throat. He pulled you into him again but it still wasn’t enough skin. As his soft lips worked over your pulse and his rough beard scratched at your neck you knew you needed more of him. You groaned as you pulled away again and tried to pull his shirt off yourself but he was just large enough to make it difficult. He smirked at you as he leaned forward to remove the shirt and your skin finally made contact with his.

You both groaned as you came together once again, finally able to feel his warm solid chest against yours. He explored your body again as your mouths did the same, he kissed down your neck, over your shoulders and between your breasts. The thin straps holding up the nightgown were quickly pulled down, revealing your chest to him. He lavished you and you felt the vibration of his groans as he licked the crevice between your breasts before closing his mouth around a peak and sucking. Your whole body arched into his, your fingers carding through his hair which made him groan deeper.

“Fuck— Joel,” your skin was on fire and you were lightheaded. You knew somewhere deep down you should feel bad or guilty but it was the furthest thing from your mind. He made you feel like you were floating, your soul somehow detached from your body.

He pulled back from you, just enough to catch his breath and look into your eyes. His hands however never stopped roaming your skin. His pupils were blown wide, almost none of the deep brown in his eyes were left now. He dipped his head and dove back into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck and it made you groan and your core clench.

He groaned into you and you felt it rumble through his chest. You felt like you were losing grip on reality, you couldn’t tell someone your own name if they asked. It was all worth it because you were lost in the pleasure of feeling him under you, but you needed more of him.

You dropped to the floor, the carpet soft under your knees. You tried to pull Joel’s pants down his hips, almost frantically as if you didn’t see all of him now you would die.

“Hol’on darlin’,” he kind of giggled as he slipped the fabric off his hips and he fell back onto the couch and looked down at you with his mouth hanging open in awe. You met his gaze before looking down at his hard length.

Fuck, he was big.

You lowered your mouth to him, teasing your lips over his silky skin. His breath caught in his chest. You ran your tongue up and his hand came up to hold the back of your head, not to force but support. Eventually his fingers grabbed into your hair when you wrapped your lips around him and pulled him in. You felt his rough moan reverberate into your body every time you dropped your head. It was difficult to take him all at once but you had to feel him, everywhere.

“Fuck, oh my—gooood…” he dropped his head back onto the couch but you knew he was watching you, his eyes never left you. You felt your arousal spread between your thighs knowing you were driving him mad. Before you even got a chance to really do much Joel pulled you up on your feet. He stayed seated and looked up at you through his lashes and your heart stopped for a second seeing him below you like this made your stomach dip and your panties wet.

His eyes were blazing a path over your body, nightgown bunched around your waist with your entire chest exposed. You should be cold but you felt like you were on fire. He ran his palms up the backside of your legs until he reached the lacy fabric of your underwear. His eyes never left yours as he slowly pulled the fabric off your hips and over your ass, his hands touching skin the whole way down and helped you step out of it. That swooping feeling settled into your stomach again as he slid his fingers back up the inside of your leg until he reached your hot center, eyes never leaving yours. You both moaned as he dipped into the slick that coated your skin.

“Mhmmm, this all f’me?” He looked at you with a mix of arrogance and pure desire as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion. It was made easy by just how wet you were, you didn’t know if you had ever been this wet before. That’s the effect he had on you, or maybe this is just a primal kind of desire that you never had with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

Either way you were spiraling fast. You knew once you two came together you wouldn’t last long. You needed to feel him, it was driving you mad.

Joel seemed to be taking it slow, which you can admire as this is very new and he probably wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. While you admired him taking the time to make you comfortable you couldn’t wait anymore. As he kissed your chest and his fingers kept moving in agonizing circles across your sensitive bundle while you straddled his lap. His hard length rubbed against your center and both of your bodies shook with desire.

He groaned as he wasn’t expecting you to be on him so fast. His hands ran along every inch, taking you into him and never wanting to let go. You rocked your hips and slowly dragged your core across his length causing you both to stutter and moan. You were sick of waiting for the thing you had been thinking about non stop for weeks.

“Will you… make me feel good?” Your voice was squeaky and horse from all the moans and his eyes fluttered at your request.

“Oh darlin’… that bastard ain’t taking care of you huh? When’s the last time you were properly touched?”

You turned your eyes away from him, slightly embarrassed that he was able to tell that so easily. “Uhm… a while.” He gave you a pointed look, clearly not liking your non-answer. “A… a year,” his eyes widened at your admission. “Over a year…” You cringed at your final answer. You weren’t proud of the fact that it had been so long but you haven't been attracted to your husband in a long time.

”Oh… you poor thing,” he bracketed your cheeks with his large hands. “Don’t worry darlin’.”

Joel was losing composure quickly, he was ready to give you everything you deserved. His nimble fingers reached between your bodies and slid along your center, drawing a wanton moan from your chest. You ground your hips into his hand trying to create the friction he wasn’t giving you. He slowly spread your lips and ran his fingers gingerly over your clit causing your body to shake in his grasp.

“Hmm… y’all wet f’me?” His southern drawl was making his lust-drunk words slur together deliciously. The scruff of his mustache scratched at your neck but his lips and tongue soothed over the sensitive skin.

“Mmhmm… Joel— oh god please,” you sounded just as lost. Your voice cracked and your hips never stopped moving over his hand, desperate for attention.

“Don’t worry darlin’, I gotcha,” he quickly flipped you and your back hit the plush couch. A soft ‘oomf’ escaped your lips and Joel was mesmerized as you lay beneath him. “Oh look at’cha, you’re so pretty baby.”

His words were like hot honey, warm and sweet. You shifted under him and wrapped your fingers around his hard shaft and the groan that reverberated through his chest made your breath catch in your throat. You kept stroking him as his fingers found your wet center again, spreading your release over your puffy folds. As you wrapped your legs around his hips, you guided his crown to your core and felt the sweet stretch of him entering you slowly.

He paused for a few moments and looked like he was trying to center himself again before pushing his hips fully into yours and held himself there. A deep rumbling groan broke through his lips as he began to move, the stretch was making you nervous at first but you felt more and more comfortable as he kept moving. When he started to rub your neglected clit, a bolt of pleasure shot down your spine causing your back to arch and nails to dig into his arms.

“Such a good girl, baby… ngh— you-you feel so good,” his syrupy words made your head feel fuzzy and limbs heavy. His hips started to snap into yours at a harsher pace and his fingers spent up between you in tandem. Your orgasm was quickly approaching with his movements, faster than you expected. Was this the norm for people with healthy relationships and sex lives, real attraction? You couldn’t even finish the thought before Joel sped up his fingers and started to hammer into you. He was surrounding you, hovering over with those dark eyes and large shoulders. The smell of him alone was about to send you over the edge, he smelled like soap and a little like sawdust, all over man. His voice broke you out of your hazy state.

“You’re gonna— cum for me darlin’, I—I can’t hold on…much longer baby.” His voice was rough and demanding and almost like your body listened, you fell over the edge. The lewd moans and shouts of Joel’s name coming out of our mouth surprised you both. At feeling you cum around him, Joel lost all of his remaining control. He stilled inside you and you felt his muscles contract in his release.

“Oh fu—fuck! oh my… god,” he slumped against you and you welcomed his weight. You both settled into the couch as you rubbed your arms up and down his back. “I’m— I’m sorry darlin’, it's been a while. Normally I'd have… taken my time.”

He sounded almost nervous, it made you smile.

“Joel, stop. You have nothing to apologize for.”

”I’ll redeem myself next time.”

Next time? He wants there to be a next time!

You smiled to yourself and hummed at the content feeling of being under him while he still filled you.

You drifted to a place of half consciousness and woke up in, what you were pretty sure was the morning to the smell of bacon. You turned over in a bed, Joel's bed, to find it empty. You looked around the room and found it to be just like Joel, cozy and masculine. You located a shirt of his and threw it on before heading down the stairs to find a very sexy shirtless Joel standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” his voice was thick with sleep and you walked up to him at the stove. With one large arm he pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. A slow smile spread on your lips at the familiarity of it all, the warmness of having someone to take care of you like this, emotionally. Something you almost never had with your husband, soon to be ex.

“Joel… thank you, for this.”

“What’cha mean darlin?”

“Taking care of me. Letting me come over last night.”

“Hey, look at me,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “Anytime you need me, I’m here.”

You tried to blink away the tears gathering on your lashes but one managed to slip, Joel’s thumb catching it before it reached your cheek. Time felt like it stopped as you leaned in to each other, lips pressing together as you moaned at the feeling.

The day was spent lazing in bed and talking about all the things you two would do when your divorce was finalized. The idea of divorce was the scariest thing in the world when you first thought about it, but now, knowing Joel would be with you every step of the way… you couldn’t wait.

[prettieinpink]

NEW YEAR, NEW ME

( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )

If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year. 

EVALUATION

Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least. 

Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life. 

Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why? 

List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you. 

This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year. 

PREPARING & PLANNING

To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey. 

Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow. 

For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment. 

For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet. 

Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this. 

Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you. 

Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.

I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out. 

This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa. 

Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail. 

Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details. 

Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals. 

I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals. 

Questions and How They Help 

Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment. 

How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement. 

How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.  

I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals. 

To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it. 

Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink). 

E.g using eating healthy example

I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect. 

Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress. 

EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN

Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.  

Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.

Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.

Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day. 

AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE

Academics

Spiritual

Fitness/sport

Health and wellbeing

Mental health

Personal life

Relationships

Hobbies and recreation

Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!

Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc. 

Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.

Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.

Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.

Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.

Materialistic Wants

I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.

However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.

It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!

Conclusion

If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.

Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨

To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏

[psychedelic-ink]

'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”  

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body. 

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper. 

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding. 

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim. 

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now. 

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.” 

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.” 

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand. 

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.” 

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know. 

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.” 

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?” 

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.” 

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?” 

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.” 

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.” 

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while. 

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it. 

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like. 

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm. 

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt. 

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault. 

Then the kiss had happened. 

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt. 

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?” 

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that. 

But now you do. 

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.” 

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward. 

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?” 

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining  with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver. 

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.” 

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .” 

“Hear  that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.” 

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?” 

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.” 

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.” 

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you. 

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone. 

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.” 

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns. 

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.” 

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates. 

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick. 

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you. 

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do. 

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets. 

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.” 

Joel squeezes your breast as  his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses. 

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you,  fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time. 

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously. 

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. 

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.” 

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile. 

“Inside me, daddy, please.” 

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—” 

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach. 

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him. 

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver. 

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” 

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.” 

“Don’t have to what?” 

“Send the video.” 

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.” 

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.” 

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger. 

“I guess I will.”  

[heirofnight]

between you & i

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: reader departs on a solo intel mission after ignoring azriel's warnings of danger. reader ends up captured, and guess who ends up coming to her rescue? you guessed it, a pissed off az. enemies to lovers. reader and az do not like each other. yum.

warnings: talk of injuries, being captured, abuse, minor self-deprecation.

you currently found yourself in a bit of a ... precarious situation. to say the least.

your sweat-dampened hair was matted to the sides of your cheeks, your forehead.

holy gods, was it fucking hot in here.

you pressed the back of your head against the stone wall behind you, hoping that the cool brick would offer some reprieve against the sweltering heat.

oh yeah, by the way, the stone wall that you were sat against belonged to a cell. a cell that you were definitely, undoubtedly, locked inside of.

your wrists were bound in chains, your arms bunched behind you haphazardly. this really, really fucking sucked. rhysand would be so pissed.

you huffed out a breath, eyes cast towards the ceiling that was covered in vines, weeds, and moss. you zoned out, reflecting on the happenings that consequently landed you here.

"are you absolutely sure that you'd rather travel alone, y/n?," rhysand had questioned you the evening prior, expression littered with apprehension and hesitation.

you'd rolled your eyes at his protective concern, a smirk playing on your lips.

"rhys, it's a singular little mission to the autumn court," you'd countered, "i'll be back in what - two, three days?," you'd continued, flicking strands of hair over your shoulders. you were hardly concerned - after all, you'd collected intel for rhysand countless times, and you'd always walked away unscathed.

you were a scholar, and this was a huge part of your job within the night court - the chance of running into trouble was slim-to-none. your task involved meeting eris within the outskirts of his territory, collecting confidential information on the inner-political developments occurring within the crisp autumn court for rhys. easy, peasy.

something you could have done blindfolded, hands tied.

which, now, considering your current circumstances, that part had literally come to fruition.

azriel had stood in utter stoicism next to the head of rhys' polished mahogany desk, brows cinched together, eyes hard.

"no, it's unwise," he'd uttered, voice cold and deep - the first words he'd spoken since you'd arrived for your mission debrief.

you and azriel were - well, complicated. while you didn't absolutely loathe each other, there was this very prominent undertone of thick, suffocating tension that had formed a barrier between the both of you. you'd both opted to tread lightly each other - civil when necessary, silent and aloof otherwise.

he'd never really seemed to give much of a shit about you, so this outburst was unlike him.

his words caused you to sit up infinitesimally straighter, eyes locked on his strong frame from across the room.

"and why's that?," you'd questioned, voice sounding bored, dismissive of his opinion.

"too much unrest across his lands as of late," he offered, shifting within his boots just slightly, "we aren't entirely sure who, or what, is patrolling that area. it's dangerous, i should accompany you," he'd finished, sounding as though he'd already made his mind up.

you'd scoffed at the suggestion, standing with the intention of taking your leave before azriel was able to convince rhys any differently.

"no, thank you, shadowsinger," you'd waved a hand in dismissal, waltzing towards the large, wooden double doors of the office.

"i don't need to be coddled, i think i can manage on my own just fine," you'd added, back turned to the two males.

it was azriel's turn to scoff in exasperation, and although you couldn't see him, you could hear his wings rustle in irritation. the thought made you smirk to yourself, reveling in the idea of getting a rise out of the normally impassive spy.

"now, y/n,-," rhys began, his voice laced with consideration.

"i'll see the both of you in a few days," you'd cut him off, letting the door shut behind you with a resounding thud, the sound echoing down the stone halls.

and that was that. you'd decided to depart first thing this morning, hoping to avoid either one of the busybody males just in case rhys had commanded azriel to travel with you, after all.

you rolled your eyes, shuffling slightly against the cell floor as you thought of the verbal lashing you'd receive once you got back to velaris.

azriel would probably be present while rhysand berated you for this catastrophic mistake, and if you thought hard enough, you could just picture the smug smirk that would more than likely be adorning his polished features. az would be enjoying the fact that he was correct, sunbathing himself in your downfall, your failure.

the thought filled you with so much rage, so much embarrassment. it caused your skin to flush and grow even hotter, which was a feat in itself since you didn't think it was possible for the stifling heat to get worse.

you'd been captured by a lone group of autumn court rebels, who'd just happened to be traveling along the exact same path you'd taken to meet eris. you weren't sure what their plans were for you - a night court female. they knew who you were, they knew you were employed with rhys. if you had to guess, they were holding you hostage to use as some sort of bargaining chip.

regardless, it'd been twelve hours since you'd been tossed into this cell. you had not the slightest clue where you even were in relation to the court itself. you'd been blindfolded and jostled about, and your sense of direction had been destroyed in the process.

you were so, so thirsty. your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, throat dry enough that it felt like you'd ingested hot coals each time you struggled to swallow.

you were nervous, yes. on edge. your feathers were ruffled. but you knew eris would report your absence to rhysand. it was only a matter of time before someone found you. and when they did, you'd be reprimanded endlessly. you'd probably never hear the end of it - never be allowed to depart on solo missions again. you'd probably be stuck with azriel, that self-righteous, arrogant -

your thoughts came to a screeching halt once you noticed that the cell had become dark. it was mid-afternoon, and barred holes in the wall had been allowing the afternoon light to filter into the small space. which honestly, with this heat, felt like an additional form of torture.

but now, a chill filled the darkened air. no light filtered through - not even a pin-prick of luminance could be accounted for. you couldn't see inches ahead of you. your spine straightened, your head perked up. and before you could make heads or tails of the odd infiltrating darkness, it had dissipated entirely.

you blinked several times, weary, exhausted eyes struggling to acclimate to the warm light.

but once you'd righted yourself, you saw it. saw him.

azriel stood before you, half of his body swathed in swirling shadows. his arms were folded across his chest, eyes narrowed in distaste as he took in the sight of you - battered, bruised, filthy, restrained. his wings rustled several times before pulling tightly into his back, clearly agitated.

his jaw ticked in anger, and he dropped his head to avert his gaze to the cell floor at his feet. his muscles flexed with tension, and he was pissed.

and while you assumed the anger was directed at you, at your stupidity, azriel was biting back the urge to level the entire autumn court for what those males had done to you.

you swallowed hard, throat burning from the action. you opted to not speak, fully understanding how monumental this fuck-up was. you hadn't even departed velaris with a weapon strapped to your body, completely void of protection. so, so stupid.

"how could you be so foolish," azriel sneered, his arms dropping to his sides, clenched fists flexing. his voice was so low, so cold, you'd finally understood how he was able to intimidate his victims to the point of broken resolve.

you looked down, ashamed, embarrassed.

"i didn't-," you started, voice hoarse.

azriel huffed angrily at the sound of it.

"no, you didn't," he cut you off, stepping towards you with a leveled thump of his boots. "you didn't," he continued, tone laced with contempt.

"you didn't think. you didn't consider how dangerous-," he paused, having to take a deep, steady breath to compose himself.

you continued staring at the floor, anywhere but him. you definitely didn't dare look at his face, his eyes as they bore into you.

"look at me," he commanded, voice growing harsh.

you averted your gaze from the floor, choosing to stare at the bright, barred window that was cut into the upper left wall instead.

"y/n," he growled, stooping down to your level to grab your chin between his thumb and pointer fingers. his grip wasn't harsh - probably due to him being careful of exacerbating any potential injuries - but it was demanding. "look at me," he repeated.

you caved, meeting his hard hazel eyes with hesitation. you tried your damndest to look as unfazed and unwavering as possible - as though being captured and beaten hadn't taken a toll on you. but when you met his familiar face, took in his features and realized you were being saved, you faltered. relief flooded your veins, overflowing until it reached your softening eyes.

unshed tears began to well up, and you used every ounce of willpower that you had left to not allow them to fall.

azriel's expression became tender as he took you in, as he studied your expression. he saw your bruises and scrapes up close now, and he dropped his head once more, shoulders drooping slightly.

"you could have gotten yourself killed," he croaked, anger still lacing his words.

"so, what," you deadpanned, voice rasping, "then you would have been right, about me - about this mission. about how foolishly incapable i am," you said solemnly, jerking your chin from his unfaltering grip.

he snapped his head upward, meeting your eyes immediately. his brows cinched, and you momentarily observed the splattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose - you'd never noticed them before, had never been this close to him.

he blinked once, twice - his long, thick lashes whispering across his skin as he did so.

"that's what you think this is about?," he questioned, voice breathless in disbelief.

you scoffed weakly, pushing yourself up further against the damp wall behind you.

"please, azriel. you've never been subtle about how incompetent you find me," your voice coated in disdain.

he let out a slow breath, shaking his head as he absorbed your words.

"no, y/n," he grunted, his hands moving forward to begin working at the cuffs around your wrists. you'd both needed to get the hell out of here, urgently. it had been hours since you'd last seen your captors, and you were both painfully aware of the likelihood that they'd return.

could azriel singlehandedly fight off an entire hoard of rebels? absolutely. did he want to dismember and mutilate the males that did this to you? abso-fucking-lutely. but more than that, he wanted to get you home, safe, and with madra.

you hissed as he began to work his deft hands around the harsh chains. they'd been pulled so tightly to your skin, that you'd already come to terms with the possibility of losing circulation to the limbs.

his eyes flickered up to your face at the sound of your discomfort, and he winced at the realization of causing you further pain.

"i've never thought that you were incompetent," he continued as he worked, using his words to distract you from the pain he was inflicting, "hotheaded? yes, confident to a fault? sometimes," he continued, and you scoffed at his jabs.

"azriel, just shut the fu-," you blurted, his words bristling your already raw skin.

"but," he cut you off, continuing on with his tangent, "you are also strong, brave - obviously. loyal to your court, to rhys," he went on, pausing for a moment, "and i've always admired you," he finished, voice lowering.

you went silent, considering his words. you became painfully aware of his close proximity, of his hands against your swollen wrists as he fought to free you.

his eyes flitted to your softening expression, gauging your reaction to his words.

and internally, you were realizing for the first time, that maybe you and azriel were more alike than you'd initially thought.

he finally freed your hands, and you groaned at the relief, at the blood rushing down to the stiff limbs.

he helped you gently, bringing your arms back to the front of your exhausted frame. you closed your eyes for a moment, taking deep, even breaths at the feeling of being free, being saved. by azriel.

"how did you know where to find me?," you croaked, peeking one eye open to look up at the male before you. he was crouched closer to you now, poised to catch you if you careened over.

"eris relayed the information to rhys - the general whereabouts of your planned meeting location," he began, eyes flicking over your entire body to scan for any other injuries.

"and rhysand sent you to track me down?," you questioned, assuming that it was a command from his high lord - a decision he didn't make.

"i didn't give him the chance to," he offered, swallowing thickly, "i was at autumn's border before eris finished his report," he cleared his throat, cheeks tinting the slightest shade of pink.

there was a slight pause.

"he didn't have a choice," he spoke, voice deep and gravelly. he met your eyes with that last statement, as if to make a point.

you sat up slightly, reeling with the words azriel had spoken. they blanketed the both of you, sitting heavy against your chest.

azriel had chosen to track you down, to save you? not only that, but it seemed like it was almost second nature for him. to seek you out, to rescue you.

you opened and closed your mouth several times, looking for the right words. nothing you'd come up with was good enough.

"let's get you home," he said softly, reaching under your limp frame to hoist you into his strong arms. you whined quietly, your body rebuking the movement.

"i know," he soothed, bracing you against his chest.

and then you were both wrapped in endless shadows and night.

cradled against your tall, strong salvation.

things had irrevocably changed between you and azriel after that. you'd both known it.

and sure enough, from that day onward, he was your chosen partner on every mission you'd decide to embark on. and azriel had insisted the same.

choosing each other, time and time again.

and sometimes, when you'd both inevitably need to stop for the evening - finding reprieve in a shoddy inn after a grueling travel day, azriel would request a room with just one bed.

and what happened under the covers on those evenings - when your body would melt into his, his forehead pressed against yours, explorative hands learning each other -

well, that was just between the both of you.

a/n: another one shot that just demanded to be written immediately. brought on by scrolling on tiktok lmao. hope u loved it! let me know your thoughts <3

[littledovesnow]

a growing family

request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus

You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.

“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.

Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.

Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.

She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.

You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”

Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”

“I’m late.”

It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”

Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”

Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”

“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”

Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”

It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.

Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”

Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”

You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”

-----

Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.

He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.

Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.

“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.

He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.

“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.

Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”

“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.

Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.

“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”

Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”

Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”

Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”

You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”

-----

It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.

Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.

An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”

Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”

Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.

“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”

Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.

“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”

Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.

Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”

You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”

Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”

Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”

You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.

“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”

“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.

Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”

Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.

You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.

-----

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.

“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.

The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”

“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.

“Coryo.”

Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”

You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”

There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”

Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”

Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”

Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”

You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”

You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”

-----

Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.

Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.

“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.

“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”

Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.

You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.

“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.

Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”

“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”

-----

a/n: send requests here

[reallyromealone]

I need a SMILY FIC! Reader is the male version of Jessica Rabbit, and Smiley is his Rodger Rabbit. But nobody believes Smiley is married to the reader because they think he (the reader) is way out of Smiley's league. But it's Nahoya's sense of humor that won the readers heart.

Title: wifey

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Tokyo revengers ensemble

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: smiley x reader, Draken x Emma, takemichi x Hina, hanma x kisaki

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff, reader is tall, suggestive themes, mentions of threesomes

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Smiley was a surprisingly private individual, he kept his shit to himself and so it was a surprise to everyone that he was not only in a relationship but engaged to one of the hottest person they ever saw.

(Name) Was a bombshell, the wet dreams of wet dreams.

"You are not engaged to him" Baji said simply and nahoya shrugged as he polished a glass at the bar area at the restaurant, him and Souya closing the shop for the day to have old Toman together for lunch "you are literally a gremlin! And he's like-- walking sex!"

"Keep getting bricked up for my fiance and I'm gonna kick your ass" smiley said coldly with a grin and Baji rolled his eyes "oi, Sanzu don't you deal with paranormal shit or whatever it is?"

"Parasocial and all the time, people think they know everything about me" he said simply as he sipped his sparkling water, Mikey nodding in agreement "I got people acting like they know exactly how I act... Real freaks"

"So delulu that he thinks he's with (name)" mitsuya picked up slang from his sister's and loved to use it much to the others groans.

"Keep acting like this and you're not invited to the wedding" smiley didn't have to wait to long though to prove his words true, (name) texting him that hes on his way with some snacks the pink haired man requested.

"Seriously, you're way to deme--"-- baby? They didn't have the chips you wanted so I opted for the second best thing" everyone turned to see (name) step in, the Haitani brothers awe struck and Draken surprisingly was the only one who believed smiley after all, how the fuck did Draken himself land Emma?

"Oh, 'hoya baby you didn't tell me you had company, I could have come at a later time" (name) was a fair bit taller than nahoya, from the looks he stood at the same height as hanma. Curves and an ass that could make a man drop, the married trio of pah, Draken and takemichi chatting amongst each other with no interest in the situation but the others... Smiley was about to break some fingers.

"Everyone, this is my fine as hell fiance! No we won't do threesomes so don't fucking ask!" (Name) Let smiley pull him to his side, the other kissing his cheek while he played with the hair at the nape of the older twins neck and smiled at Angry "I got you some gummy worms" he said calmly as he ignored the oggling from the others "it's a pleasure to meet Nahoyas friends, he's spoken of you all"

"Fondly I'm sure" kazutora said with a flirty grin and (name) tilted his head as he gazed into the others eyes "that's not the word I would use" (name) said simply as he watched the other struggle at (name)s naturally sultry gaze "how the fuck... Is this a thing" Kisaki said incredulously as Hanmas hand rested on the specticalled man's thigh, the boyfriends finding this fascinating yet strange.

Smiley was... Well smiley and (name) was sex incarnation.

"We met at a party and where everyone was trying to flirt... Hoya made me laugh" (name) said simply and nahoya looked SMUG as he let the other hold him close "why don't you head upstairs baby, I'll be up in a minute" Smiley sent (name) upstairs but not without a kiss that left (name)s (lipstick/lipgloss) on the others lips.

"You sure you aren't open to a threesome?" Mikey asked and smiley cracked his neck at that.

"Absolutely fucking not, you're not coming to the wedding"

[murdrdocs]

thinking about patrick getting hired by some wealthy rich man to teach his daughter tennis. she's in her 20s and she can't help but be attracted to him and the same goes for him like ... idk

public sex; oral (f receiving); coach zweig once more; MDNI 18+ w/ PATRICK ZWEIG

for the first couple of sessions, it's blatantly obvious that you don't want to be here.

patrick sees it in the way you zone out every few seconds. the way you have absolutely no hustle when you're hitting. the way you're more focused on your chipped nail polish than on his instructions. really, if the check wasn't as big as it is, then patrick wouldn't want to be here either. but the check for one session is enough to keep him going for three months and patrick wants to keep the money flowing. so he's here, and he cares just enough, and he really would prefer it if you cared too.

he meets you on even ground in the middle of the second lesson. you're drinking from an expensive water bottle while patrick drinks from a plastic one. your skin has a light sheen of sweat from it, but not nearly enough in patrick's opinion. he's sure the sweat is from the sun and not your effort.

he kicks the front of your sneakers with his.

"what's your deal?"

you're looking up at him, squinting even though the brim of your visor shields your eyes from the sun. "my deal?"

patrick nods. "you clearly don't wanna be here. so why are you?"

it takes you a second. your jaw ticks as if you're a smoker, or maybe you're used to chewing gum. patrick usually keeps both with him, and he would've offered either to you if you weren't on a court in your backyard.

eventually, you respond. "i agreed to come home for the summer and i could either sit on the board with my father, or play tennis. anything to keep me from lounging around all day."

a small, knowing smile came to patrick's lips. he glanced behind you at the shape of your house. standing here, patrick sees you. he understands you. he, too, learned tennis to escape the future set up by his father. while yours is on a smaller scale, and something more temporary, he still understands.

he caps his water bottle and places it on the bench. "if you put in a little effort, tennis can be fun."

you snicker and place your water bottle next to his, humming noncommittally.

"i'll believe it when i see it."

it isn't long until patrick starts to see effort put into your movements during your sessions. instead of letting the ball fly past you, you're attempting to run for it, sometimes even succeeding. your skin shines with more than a light sweat. you're actually out of breath when you attempt to respond to patrick mid session.

it's nice to see you putting in work. it's attractive when you're bent over with your hands on your knees, heaving for air. it's alluring when you pout at patrick, a plea for a break already on your emphasized lips.

he doesn't know if your sudden enthusiasm is of your own doing, or from the way patrick rewards you. because no matter how much he pushed his desire down, no matter how often he tried to hide it in the name of professionalism, he still found himself drawn to you. glances up your skirt turned to his head up there. fleeting touches to your lower back turned to his rough hands gripping that very area as he took you from behind. watching the sun beat sweat down onto your skin had a completely different meaning when he fucked you on the court, both of you tucked away on the bench and barely hidden away from anyone—notably your father—who could come outside.

it's obvious that you wanted him, too, your sudden need to impress him on the courts whenever he rewarded you with kisses was a testament.

he asks you one day when he'd lightly smacked your ass with his racket when your session was over. "is tennis fun yet?" came his question, and you smiled at him, throwing a hand over your eye to shield your face from the sun. the shadows cast onto your face and your clavicle did nothing to hide the obvious hickey patrick gave you a few days ago and he found his eyes drawn there when you answered.

"dunno. maybe i need a few more sessions."

[lexirosewrites]

In honor of nurse appreciation week…

Instead of ‘Eddie gets a toy stuck in him and Steve helps him get it out,’ what about alpha Eddie picks out the wrong size of ‘pocket omega,’ so his knot gets stuck and he goes to the ER?

Omega nurse Steve is both horrified and impressed.

He wants to just get out the sterile scissors and start working at cutting away the rubbery toy piece by piece, but he can’t help the lecture that starts to slip out too.

Who can blame him? He is a nurse after all.

“You have to be more careful next time. You can really constrict the blood flow with these things if you’re not careful!”

Eddie’s face somehow gets even more flushed and he mumbles something, not making eye contact when he does.

“Sorry?” Steve asks, ready to admonish him for whatever excuse he has for buying the wrong size. “What was that?”

Some alphas just think ‘smaller is better’ and Steve knows that’s bullshit.

To believe otherwise is just antiquated and juvenile alpha-brained thinking.

Eddie clears his throat, finally looking at Steve directly when he explains sheepishly, “I got the biggest size I could find. It’s just… my knot is kinda huge.”

Steve whimpers a little at that, clamping his legs together tightly at the thought of such a large knot filling him.

“O-oh.”

He’s glad he wasn’t holding the scissors.

“Yeah, it’s kind of an awful problem to have,” the alpha admits as Steve tries to get a hold of himself and do his job like a professional.

His mouth might be watering now.

“No! I mean- uh, I’m sure there are plenty of omegas who would be willing to- that- that is to say- um…”

He can’t think of anything but big knots and being filled with them.

Eddie chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about it, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here for the same stupid problem. This company just advertised carrying a size big enough to accommodate any knot and I believed them.”

Steve is going to cum in his fucking scrub pants like some slutty omega who can’t control themselves.

If Eddie’s telling the truth (and Steve’s inclined to believe him, especially since the proof is almost in front of him), then Steve’s never going to stop thinking about it.

He makes the last few cuts, finally able to pull the mangled toy off his patient’s swollen cock and behold the goddamn ‘Mona Lisa’ of alpha knots resting in his unworthy hands.

Jesus Christ.

It’s one thing for Eddie to say he’s been blessed in this particular area and it’s another for Steve to see it with his own eyes.

(and hold it)

“Oh good, it deflated a bit,” Eddie states with relief.

Huh.

“It… went down? This isn’t your full knot?” Steve wheezes out.

The alpha’s timid smile turns into something closer to a smirk, almost like he’s proud now.

“I mean, you can find out if you keep stroking it like that.”

Steve looks down, horrified to find that he was indeed running his hands along Eddie’s cock like some sort of trophy in need of polishing.

“I am so sorry! I don’t know what’s come over me. This is beyond inappropriate. I’m sure you’re ready to go home and forget all of this!”

Eddie clicks his tongue thoughtfully, keeping Steve practically on the edge of his seat in anticipation.

“While I could do without the ER bill, I think I can justify the visit if I leave with an actual omega. Maybe even one who’s a bit of a size queen?” he suggests coyly.

Steve gapes at the sheer boldness.

“How- uh, why would you assume that?” he flusters, the room feeling much smaller suddenly.

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

Steve raises one back.

The alpha doesn’t break eye contact, reaching down to wrap his hand around Steve’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“Might have something to do with the fact that you still haven’t let go of my knot, baby,” Eddie purrs, leaning in closer so his warm breath tickles Steve’s face. “Or maybe it’s that fucking puddle underneath you that’s getting worse by the minute. You’re dripping for my knot.”

He is.

Steve can hardly breathe, every inhale giving him a mouthful of heady alpha hormones.

Despite the scent neutralizers pumped out into the hospital air and the patch stuck on Steve’s own scent gland, he’s fucking enraptured by the smell.

His hand twitches, tightening.

Steve can’t help but blurt out, “My pussy can take it. I fuck myself open on the biggest fake alpha cocks I can find every night, but they’re never enough. They’ve- they’ve never been—”

He swallows, trying not to choke on his own drool building up in his mouth from ust.

Eddie presses his lips right up against Steve’s ear, letting them brush his skin when he whispers, “Yeah, sweetheart? They’ve never been… what?”

The alpha’s other hand drifts between Steve’s legs, pushing down the front of his pants and finding his arousal evident there.

Steve whines pathetically at the feeling of Eddie’s searching fingers running through the slick on his flushed skin.

“They’ve never been as big as you are, alpha,” he confesses, breaking every last ounce of willpower and giving in to his needs completely.

“What do you want, omega?” Eddie asks, trailing kisses behind his ear and down his neck. “What do you need from me?”

“I- I need…” Steve keens loudly as a wet kiss is pressed directly to his mating gland. “Your knot splitting me open like I’m just a toy.”

Eddie smiles.

“You are my toy.”

[cranberryjuice-posts]

-Kisses-

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Femme! Reader

An - ik this is short im time crunching my Valentine’s Day clarisse and Abby fanfics 😭😭

An - no godly parent is listen but reader is super girly

Camp Halfblood was no exception of dumb teenage boys ranking who the “hottest” girl was at camp.

After half an hour of clarisses brothers laughing and arguing about who the top three girls were clarisse got fed up. Setting her half polished spear down she walked over to where her brothers sat taking the paper from them “dude clarisse give that back!” One of the boys shouted.

Clarisse however just ignored them. Glancing over the list she saw at the top ‘ hottest girls at camp’ . “Really we’re ranking girls at camp now? This is so fucking stupid” she scoffed.

Taking a look at the paper the ranking went —

Silena beauregard

Y/n l/n

Katie gardener

Yara smith

Ashley Knowles

—

By that point in the list clarisse ripped the paper apart before throwing it away. “She’s just mad she didn’t rank top three” a Dionysus kid laughed. Clarisse looked back at the boy giving him a harsh glare making him shut up.

“Everyone who isn’t an areas kid needs to leave now and everyone who is.. be ready to work your asses off tomorrow morning got it!” She ordered, the non ares boys left without another word with her brothers complaining and trying to argue with their councilor just to be met with more punishments.

——

The following morning as you finished your makeup and hair for the day clarisse walked into your cabin.

A few of your sisters were still hanging out went silent at the sight of the ares girl “uh hey I’ll catch up with you guys later ok” you smiled at your sisters “go get breakfast oh! And save me some strawberries”

Once they were gone you gave a sarcastic smile to clarisse. “Hey stranger”

“Yeah hi” she defensively spoke, grabbing your face she left a small kiss on your lips before leaning against the desk that was placed beside your bunk. “Heyy what’s wrong, did. something happen?” You placed a hand on the girls leg.

“Fucking brothers— they made this dumbass list ranking the hottest girls at camp and no denying silena is beautiful but you should of been number one also the way they talk about you and your body on the paper was disgusting..” Clarisses paused, calming down once she saw your amused smile.

“It’s so cute how protective you get”

“I’m not cute”

“Sure you are babe, you just don’t wanna admit it”

Clarisse crossed her arms not wanting to give in to your antics. Standing up you placed your hands on clarisses cheeks After reapplying your lipstick. Bringing her down you started to leave kiss marks all along her face, eyes, cheeks, nose, forehead, anywhere you could get. Leaving one final kiss on the girls lips .

She groaned playfully pulling away, just before clarisse could wipe the marks off her face you grabbed her hands. Kissing her quickly once again you smiled. “Leave them on ok”

“You realize that me walking out of your cabin with kiss marks on my face people are gonna know we’re together”

You leaned onto clarisse fiddling with her camp necklace. “So what” the stronger girl looked down at younfonfused “so what?”

“Yeah so what it they know, it’ll keep the guys at camp from talking about me in ways you don’t like and I don’t have to hide about how much I tolerate you”

“You tolerate me” she spoke unamused

Nodding you continued the innocent act. “Yup, only just a little bit though”

“You’re a dumbass”

“Yeah but I’m Your dumbass so it all works out”

——

[growingstories]

Pjotr (NEW PICTURES)

This is a story by Jamie, living in a suburban area close to London: Next to where I live is a building that houses construction workers from abroad. Most of the guys I see are from Poland living here to work for a construction company run by a Mr. Johnson. I didn’t really think much of it until Pjotr became my direct neighbor.

Every day, I would see the rough Polish workers in the garden, their tough exterior giving away nothing but their laborious days. Dusty and unshowered, they would gather after work to smoke, drink beer, and chat until late into the night. None of them seemed to be particularly fit, most being slightly overweight. However, their dedication to their work was admirable. During vacations, they would all go back to their families in Poland and return after spending quality time with their loved ones. It was during such Summer vacation period that I bumped into someone unexpected.

As I walked down the street, lost in my own thoughts, I noticed a hot, athletic guy who appeared to be lost. Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached him to offer my help. He was looking for number 13, the house right next to mine. I excitedly told him that I lived next door, and we introduced ourselves. His name was Pjotr, and he mentioned that he was from Poland as the rest of the guys.

Pjotr had recently finished carpenter school and had come to to England pursue his dreams in the construction industry. His charming demeanor instantly struck a chord with me, and before I knew it, I had fallen head over heels in love with him.

After a week of living next to each other, Pjotr and I bumped into each other again. I asked him how he was finding his time in England so far. He confessed that work was tough and after work was a bit monotonous. The other workers would only gather to drink and never did anything particularly interesting. He expressed his struggle in connecting with his rough colleagues, who mostly talked about women and football—topics that didn't interest him much. He was happy to paths crossed have with me, as it meant having someone to talk to outside of work.

Feeling an undeniable connection, the following week, I suggested we grab some food together, and he gladly accepted. During dinner, Pjotr confided in me about his ambition to build his own dream house and start his own construction company by the time he turned 30. I found his drive and determination incredibly inspiring and showered him with praise.

Our dinners together became a regular occurrence, and soon enough, we found ourselves venturing out to clubs, enjoying the vibrant nightlife. It was during one of those late-night walks home, in the midst of a palpable tension, that Pjotr surprised me by pushing me into an alleyway and passionately kissing me. Overwhelmed by desire, I invited him up to my place, and we shared an unforgettable night together. However, we both agreed that our encounters needed to remain discreet due to the nature of our situation. On the streets, we would greet each other as neighbors, and upon entering or leaving my house, we had to ensure that no prying eyes were watching.

As time went on, our relationship deepened, and we spent almost every day together. Pjotr would sneak into my house after dinner with colleagues at 7.30 pm to share a bite with me, have amazing sex and sleep together tight and set his alarm for 4:30 am, ensuring that he made it back to his place before anyone woke up. Our secret meetings, filled with passion and desire, became the highlights of our lives. But as the months passed, I began to notice subtle changes in Pjotr's physique. Love handles appeared on his once athletic frame, accentuating his rugged charm.

At first, it didn't bother me, but gradually, it became apparent that he was gaining weight. He confessed his struggle to me, explaining that his colleagues would cook fatty dinners every night, and the amount of beer they consumed was staggering. Despite his best efforts, the weight seemed to pile on rapidly, and he struggled to find a way out. To support him, I promised to cook lighter meals, but he would often snack on my food, turning my smaller portions into full dinners. Desserts became larger, and his belly started to grow bigger.

Seeing him change physically didn't dampen my attraction to him; in fact, I found his size newfound incredibly appealing. I assured him that he still looked hot, hoping to boost his confidence. In response, he asked if he could my use gym, determined to shed some weight. He embarked on a rigorous workout routine, spending hours at the gym after work.

The results were astonishing. His muscles bulked up, giving him an even more commanding presence. However, the weight he had gained remained, transforming him into an absolute beast of a man. He reveled in his newfound strength, attributing it partly to his size. Pjotr's colleagues, impressed by his determination, offered him lighter duties that didn't involve too much physical exertion, enabling him to indulge his appetite even more.

Over the course of five years, our secret encounters continued, and Pjotr's size grew. He had saved up a considerable amount of money and shared with me his plans to leave England for good. He was eager to return to Poland and live out his dreams of building his dream house and starting his own construction company. He asked if I would join him, sharing his desire to build a life together. His family was accepting of our relationship, and I found myself seriously considering starting a new life in Poland.

In the final months leading up to our departure, Pjotr had become simply obese. However, he appeared more relaxed and content now that his family knew about us. We made the decision to leave England behind and embrace a simpler life in Poland. I knew I could pursue my own career there as well. And so, that's where we find ourselves now—living a peaceful, joy-filled life in Poland I take. care of the love of my life, who spends his days building our dream house and establishing his own successful construction company. The days are busy, and as he constantly moves and works, he has shed some weight along the way. Nevertheless, his insatiable appetite and love for food guarantee that he will never be skinny again. But that's perfectly fine, because to me, he will always be the sexy, confident, and loving man I fell in love with—the who pursued man his ambitions, achieved his dreams, and captured my heart forever.