#and this weekend was a good reminder that it’s not my job to fix all the problems

[feeder86]

Selfish

“Why are you arranging to go out with the boys? You know we’re going up to help my parents with redecorating this weekend!” Lucy complained, standing straight up and looking down at Ryan, laid out on the couch.

“We’re doing what?” Ryan asked, completely perplexed. “We were there last weekend!”

“Yeah, and I told my dad you’d give him a hand with the wallpapering this next weekend as well,” Lucy continued in her whining tone.

“Their entire lounge?” Ryan shot back. “Nobody told me!”

“Well…” Lucy mumbled, suddenly realising that Ryan was right. “I’m telling you now.”

Ryan huffed in frustration. He hadn’t had a night out with the boys in months. He’d thought, when he married Lucy, that he was setting himself up for a good life. She didn’t want kids, she wasn’t crazy about him visiting the gym all the time and she was a fully qualified chef! However, two years in and Ryan had never had so little time for himself, endlessly fixing up their apartment just as Lucy wanted it, then constantly heading out to see her parents; always being signed up for some tedious maintenance tasks now that Lucy’s dad was getting on a bit and living off his retirement income. “Fine,” he sighed, deleting his planned message to the group chat with the boys. “I guess I can see my friends when I’ve got a couple of weeks off next month.”

“Oh, yes!” Lucy nodded, making Ryan instantly regret reminding her about his time off. The cogs in her head clearly rolling into action, imagining all of the jobs he could get done in that time.

“Ryan!” cheered his buddies a full nine weeks later, amazed that he had actually made it out. “We haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I’m only here for one of two drinks. I dropped Lucy off in town to do some shopping,” he explained to them, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“You’re not coming to the club?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise after giving him the biggest hug.

“No… no. I wish I could, but…” he grumbled, considering the best way to explain how much Lucy was monopolising his time; how frustrating and demanding she had become since they got married. . “...I’ve got commitments,” he simply stated, deciding not to poison his time with his friends by complaining about the person who had kept him away from them for so long. 

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Jack jumped in, filling the silent void that was killing the mood. “Life happens.”

“Jack!” Ryan exclaimed, seeing his high school best friend and doing a slight double take. The guy had altered quite a bit since Ryan last saw him. Where had that double chin come from? How was he filling that shirt with all that padding in his stomach? What the hell had happened? “How long has it been, buddy?”

“I saw you at Ginny and Fran’s house warming, about four months ago,” he answered. “I introduced you to my new girlfriend, Michelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remember, Ryan nodded, thinking back to how drunk Lucy had been that night, and how early they had had to leave. But Jack hadn’t looked so overweight back then. They’d tried out their friends’ new swimming pool. Jack had been one of the first ones in. He definitely wasn’t out of shape. Not like he appeared to be now.

As luck would have it, when the guys all went to grab seats, Ryan ended up next to Jack, right on the end of a long, rectangular table. Back in their high school days, the pair of them had been the best of friends, and that old rapport immediately came back every time they met; even after months of separation. Jack had always been the bad influence that Ryan’s parents had never approved of. He’d been banned from hanging out with the guy on multiple occasions when he was growing up and, even now, he still felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t, giggling away at the crude jokes that tumbled out of Jack’s mouth with ease. 

“So, things are going well with Michelle?” Ryan asked, spotting that Jack had already referenced her several times in their conversation.

“Things are going great!” Jack beamed. He leaned in a little closer, clearly not wanting the other guys to hear. “We’ve even talked about getting married!”

At this, Ryan’s eyebrows flew up. “Married? After four months?” he whispered back, knowing that Jack didn’t want this broadcasting. He remembered how promiscuous his friend had been during his college days. If Ryan had been asked to pick any one of the guys here who was least likely to ever settle down, he would have chosen Jack without a second thought.

“I know!” Jack beamed, leaning back and placing his hands on the top of his stout little paunch, which jutted out into a proper shelf as they sat down. “I’m so ready for it though,” he smiled, seeming to rub his stomach mindlessly. “I’m actually really excited about the idea.”

Round and round Jack’s hands went, rubbing that tight ball of stomach fat, pulling Ryan’s gaze into it. “I’m happy for you,” he mumbled back.

Jack looked around, checking that no one else was listening in, then he turned himself a little more into Ryan, about to divulge even more private information. “Michelle’s super kinky!” he whispered.

Ryan chuckled and leaned in as well. His own sex life was so monotonous these days, he was actually quite ready to hear about someone else having a good time. “Oh yeah? She certainly looked pretty flexible when I met her that one time,” he grinned, settling into dirty ‘guy talk’ with enthusiasm.

“Oh, buddy!” Jack sighed, rolling his eyes and giving a huge exhale. “You would not believe it. She has me wrapped around her little finger. Absolutely anything she wants, I do for her.”

“That doesn’t sound too dissimilar to me and Lucy,” Ryan quipped, chuckling at his own joke.

“No, I’m not talking about boring shit, like decorating,” Jack shot back, having heard all about Ryan’s grumblings. “I’m talking about really kinky, submissive stuff.”

“Really?” Ryan smirked. “I never thought she’d be the dominant type.”

“No,” Jack agreed enthusiastically. “No one else knows. She hides it really well.”

Ryan had to admit that he was getting a little turned on. “So, what type of stuff does she make you do?” he asked next; his eyes twinkling with boyish interest, just as much as Jack’s were.

“All sorts,” Jack answered, his hands slipping onto his gut again. “When we started going out, I was still trying to act like the playboy I used to be. Michelle was having none of it. She’s put guys like me in their place before. Trust me, I’ve seen the pictures!” he smirked.”But her biggest turn on is making sure I overeat and get bigger.”

“Seriously?” Ryan asked, now understanding why Jack kept on holding his stomach. “I thought girls hated it when guys put on weight?”

“It’s an absolute fucking dream!” Jack replied, lowering his voice even further. Just the fact that he had sworn showed Ryan how turned on his friend was, simply by talking about it. “I get home and she’ll sit me in my gaming chair and set everything up for me. Then she brings me endless snacks and beers; a few sodas, cream cakes. Michelle won’t even let me get up. I do nothing around my apartment at all! No washing, no cleaning and certainly no cooking! She gets off on controlling my entire lifestyle when I’m at home. Then rewarding me for it.”

“Dude, that’s amazing!” Ryan had to agree, feeling surprisingly jealous. He’d been up until almost midnight last night, fixing a new shelf for Lucy’s candles, whilst his buddy Jack had been gaming, eating and getting pleasured the entire time.

“You see why I’m so keen to marry her now?” Jack joked back. “Can you believe it? I’m actually living out our dream that we used to talk about in high school.”

Ryan looked a little perplexed, trying to remember what they used to talk about ten years ago.

In turn, Jack seemed a little surprised that Ryan was struggling to recall. “You remember? Mr Hanson was such a bad gym teacher, we used to joke that we would just find some girls who liked fat guys and never have to put on a pair of itchy gym shorts again.”

“Oh, yeah!” Ryan chuckled. “That worked out well for me,” he sighed sarcastically. “I ended up marrying a professional chef, but I’m now ten pounds lighter than I was when we married.”

“Dude, there are other girls out there,” Jack went on enthusiastically. “Believe me! My eyes have been opened in these last few months! If you want the life that I’ve got…” he proclaimed, rubbing his stomach once more, “trust me, you can have it!”

Ryan nodded. No one else had dared to suggest he thought about a life beyond Lucy. Whenever he raised his concerns or annoyances about their marriage, people were keen to stamp them out, reminding him, in their accusatory tones, that marriage was all about compromising. Now, here was Jack, actively encouraging him to imagine being with someone else instead. It was the reason why Jack was, and always would be, Ryan’s very best friend.

Ryan looked at himself in the mirror a couple of weeks later. It was Sunday night. He should have been well rested, and yet he looked nothing but tired. The dirt under his fingernails from digging up Lucy’s parents’ garden all weekend was still visible in places, despite scrubbing for so long in the shower. His ribs were showing in his chest and, although he was built with plenty of muscle, he’d never looked so lanky and slim in his life. He thought of Jack and his life of pleasure and luxury. This… this tiredness and exhaustion was not what he wanted for himself. He looked almost ill.

Life had to change.

Ryan raised his cell phone to the mirror and took a picture of himself. This would be his lowest point, he decided with determination. From now on, things were going to change. He never wanted to see himself like this ever again.

“What’s all this?” Lucy complained, slipping into Ryan’s truck on their way to the supermarket. She held up several pieces of packaging, wrappers from fast food places and sugary snacks. “Is this what you’ve been eating when you’ve been in work this week?”

Ryan nodded without shame. “I feel like I’m too skinny. I’m trying to put on a few pounds.”

“Since when?” Lucy blasted back indignantly. “I’ve never told you you’re too skinny. I like the way you look.”

“I don’t,” Ryan shrugged. “I’ve never liked being skinny. I was always bigger than this growing up. In fact, I was actually quite chubby when I started high school.”

“Well, no. Sorry,” Lucy stated, without compromise. “I’m your wife, and I say no.”

Ryan looked at her in disbelief. “It’s my body,” he declared. “And I want to feel good about it.”

“I said no!” Lucy spat, brushing all the packaging into the footwell and sitting herself down. “Now, let’s talk about something else.”

Ryan got in, sat down and slammed the door shut, neither of them speaking for the entire ride.

‘Fastest ways to gain weight’ Ryan typed into the internet search that evening after Lucy had gone to bed. He quickly skipped through anything that dealt with muscle gains and focused solely on those that promoted increases in fat. He may have married Lucy, but she didn’t own him. In fact, she was the one who needed to learn that more than anyone. This was one ‘no’ that he wasn’t about to cave into.

“You’re looking well,” cried Ryan’s aunt as he stopped over to fix her leaking tap.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “I feel quite well,” he agreed. “I’ve been trying to put some weight back on these last few weeks. I was starting to get far too skinny.”

“I was saying that to your mom, but she didn’t agree with me. You had gone dreadfully skinny.”

Ryan nodded in agreement. He had always been much more on his aunt’s wavelength than anyone else in his family. “I found some recipes online and I buy in these little calorie shakes that seem to work well on me. I’ve put on about 20lbs altogether,” he explained, raising his shirt briefly to show that his stomach was indeed a little thicker. “Lucy isn’t too pleased about it. But she’s never happy these days.”

“Well, you were never skinny growing up, were you?” his aunt nodded. “You always had a sweet tooth, I remember. You used to eat me out of house and home when you came over!”

“That’s why I’m so tall,” Ryan laughed. “I was always so well fed growing up.”

The pair of them laughed and Ryan packed up his things. In the old days, he would have headed straight home to his wife, but now he was feeling the need to be much more selfish, heading istead to the fast food place he had grown quite attached to and determined that he would at last defeat the Mega Monster Meal that had, up until now, eluded him.

“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Lucy complained, checking the time as Ryan rushed about after his shower. He’d been late home, getting caught up at a job, sending his wife into a tailspin as she tried to get him ready for her friend’s engagement party. She’d laid his suit out on the bed, his underwear, shoes and socks; knowing exactly how she wanted him to look.

Ryan hated being rushed. So what if they missed the first twenty minutes? Was the world really going to end? It was the side of Lucy he hated most, struggling to pull his socks on as his feet were still so wet.

“Oh,” Ryan mumbled, sucking in his stomach and trying to button up the suit pants. He tugged and pulled, holding his breath as much as he could. “I’m too big for them!” he chuckled with amusement, remembering that he had bought the suit for a wedding less than a year ago, when he was much skinnier. “What a waste of money, these were!” he joked lightheartedly. “I only got to wear them once!”

Lucy stared on in horror. She’d told him again and again to cut down on his eating. Couldn’t he see how bad he looked? Wasn’t he ashamed of how his stomach was starting to develop into a little paunch.

“Relax,” he whispered back, trying to calm her down. “I’ll just pair the jacket with my jeans and then we can head straight out.”

However, Lucy’s face had flushed with anger. “No,” she declared, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m going by myself. I’m not being seen with you, looking like this.”

Ryan stared at her in disbelief. He didn’t have words, listening as she stormed down the stairs and threw the front door closed. He heard her car start and he peeked out the window as that too stormed off down the street; out of view. 

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ryan threw himself down onto the bed; still dressed only in his underwear and socks. How had he married someone so fucking unreasonable? She was just so… 

But then a thought came to Ryan, making his brain tingle into life. Had he actually just been given the night to himself? The whole house? Just him? All evening?

He looked down at his thicker stomach and smiled with delight at it. “Thank you!” he laughed aloud, managing to pinch a little and jiggle it in happiness. He felt a twitch in his groin, realising that with the night to himself, he could watch porn or do anything that he wanted. He could order food in. Lots of it! “Yes!”, he nodded, getting more excited and turned on now. This was his night. Free reign to be as selfish as he liked.

Ryan proceeded to indulge himself in every way possible, looking down at his bloated stomach a couple of hours later. Maybe this was it, he thought to himself. Maybe this was the way out of his miserable life with Lucy. He could seize upon her dislike of his weight gain and run with it. Why stop? He’d certainly gone beyond the point of denying himself for the sake of her ideals. There was a path in front of him, the exit sign shining brightly and a new life within his reach. He just needed to have the courage to reach for it.

“A Saturday night to yourself?” Jack laughed, surprised that Ryan had actually followed up on his promises and made it out for a drink. “You must have been a very good boy!” he teased.

Ryan hugged his friend and stood back to admire him slightly. Jack had grown wider since he’d seen him last, his hips and love handles spreading. Teh guy’s face was bigger, cheeks blooming large. And underneath his t-shirt, Ryan could see that the man’s nipples had become pointed, pressing outwards from his puffy former pecs. “I can see that you’ve been having a very good time of things!” he joked, being in the know about how Jack’s kinky sex life worked with his girlfriend.

“I could say the same about you!” Jack smirked back, poking Ryan in his tight little paunch. “Have you and Lucy been having your own kinky fun?” he teased.

“We’re not really talking at the moment, dude,” Ryan explained straight away; keen that he didn’t have to spend the entire night talking about her. “I want out. I’ve reached the end.”

Jack winced sympathetically. “I can’t say that I’m all that surprised after the way you were talking last time. But that still doesn’t explain this,” he pointed back at Ryan’s middle, smirking.

Ryan laughed, having forgottem how quickly Jack could lift his spirits with his cheeky humour. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied coyly, smiling with just as much mischief.

“Yes you do!” Jack laughed back, patting Ryan’s paunch properly now. “Did you do it on purpose? Is this to piss Lucy off?”

Again, Ryan laughed. He shruged his shoulders. “Yeah,” he nodded in surprise at Jack’s bluntness. There wasn’t anyone else in the world he could imagine himself admitting this to. “I guess I did,” he smiled, resting his hand over his thicker middle like it was his new prized pet.

“Dude, that’s so awesome!” Jack blasted; his face lighting up with all the enthusiasm Ryan remembered when the pair of them used to get up to mischief in high school. “You love it, don’t you?”

Ryan felt like he was dealing with an excitable puppy, but the interest was infectious. “Well, I can’t say I’m against it,” he replied diplomatically.

“Michelle is going to love this when I tell her,” Jack pressed on, ordering them both a couple of beers. “She said at the pool party that you would make a good fatty.”

“She did?” Ryan asked, surprised that Michelle would talk about other guys in that way.

“Absolutely,” Jack nodded. “She said you’re like me; a similar build; perfect for fattening up, apparently.”

“She really is a kinky one, your Michelle, isn’t she?” Ryan chuckled, feeling strangely aroused by the idea of her talking about him like this.

“How far are you planning on taking it?” Jack pressed him.

“The weight gain? Um, well. I’m not really thinking about anything really. I’m just having some fun,” he answered honestly.

“Dude, if you’re ever going to grow a gut in your lifetime, getting a divorce is one of them.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ryan asked, only half listening now as he tried to work out why there was so much blood pumping into his groin.

“A divorce is like a free pass for so many things. No one will bat an eyelid if you start getting properly fat once you two separate.”

“Well, we’re not quite there yet,” Ryan backtracked, wincing slightly as the word ‘divorce’ came up so casually in their conversation. Lucy hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, and neither had he to her. 

“Just imagine it though,” Jack encouraged him. “You, sitting in your own apartment somewhere, drinking as much beer and eating as much pizza as you want after work. No Lucy complaining in the background and telling you off. No massive list of jobs to be completed at the weekend.”

“That does sound pretty sweet,” Ryan admitted; his dick now inexplicably full of blood.

“I just can’t wait to tell Michelle,” Jack said again, more delighted than ever as the pair of them settled in to watch the football game on the big screen.

The realities of splitting from his wife were somewhat different from the fantasies that Jack tried to portray, Ryan soon realised. Divorce was quickly turning into the most expensive thing he had ever done. Lucy’s parents, who had been too impoverished to hire a gardener, or a decorator, or a maintenance guy the entire time he had been married to Lucy, suddenly stumped up the cash to pay for the most cut-throat, killer lawyer for their daughter. With his head in his hands, Ryan soon realised that he was going to have to start from scratch: no home, no pensions, not even his truck for work. The only place that he could afford to live was a room in an apartment downtown, sharing with two students from the local college. Twenty nine years old and here he was, right back at the starting line.

Of the two guys he now lived with, Ryan didn’t see much of Paul, the computer science major. He was often out in the library, or hiding out in his bedroom. That worked fine. With his life turned so upside down, Ryan wasn’t exactly wanting to be dragged out to parties midweek when he had work the next morning. No, the only real pain in Ryan’s ass was Ash; the smart-mouthed literature student with a carefree attitude to life that frustrated Ryan to no end.

“You know, when you get a real job, you’re not going to be able to sit up until 3am watching a movie marathon with your waste of space boyfriend,” he complained at the guy one evening, tired from an exhausting day in work, having been constantly woken by the pair of young lovers laughing so hard at the screen.

“Fine. Whatever,” Ash huffed. “I’ve had a stressful day, okay. I don’t need this.”

“Stressful?” Ryan parroted, feeling the rage bubbling up inside him. “You want to know about stress?” he growled. “You’ve been sitting inside all day typing up an assignment on a computer screen. That’s not what real stress looks like. You’re in college - you have absolutely no idea about the real world; about trying to actually earn a living!”

Ash rolled his eyes. He’d heard it all before. 

Sure, Lucy knew how to press Ryan’s buttons, but this boy was on a whole other level. “You graduate with your masters in nine months!” he blasted. “What the hell do you expect to do then? You’ve got no idea, have you? How can you just wander so aimlessly through life?”

“What does it matter?” Ash sighed. “Things always work out in the end.”

“It matters because, trust me, your twenties will be over in a flash and you need to start getting somewhere in life. Not just watching movies until 3am! And certainly not with someone like Ben! You’re just setting yourself up for failure, and it pisses me off!”

“Like you, you mean?” Ash shot back, visibly annoyed. “You’ve done the whole marriage thing, the house, the cars. Yet, you're back here, sharing a shitty apartment with a couple of students. You did everything right, everything the grown-ups told you, and now look at you! Sometimes life is just like that. So stop taking out your frustrations on me and start focusing on yourself instead!”

Ryan didn’t respond. He stormed off to his room and threw himself onto the bed. Then he took a few breaths and considered what Ash had actually said to him. The guy had been right: he was taking his anger out on him. Ash was young, more academically bright than Ryan had ever been, good looking and full of personality. He had his whole life in front of him without any major mistakes under his belt yet. So why did Ryan feel the need to be such an asshole to him?

Despite not officially apologising, Ryan did make an effort to be nicer to Ash over the coming days. He still didn’t care for Ben, the guy's boyfriend, feeling that Ash could do much better. But he was polite and courteous, never failing to put in his earplugs when he knew they were going to be watching TV until late.

Ryan’s weight had not been a priority for him since he’d moved in. Any erotic fantasies he’d indulged himself in last year were thoroughly dampened by the divorce. Yet, his weight continued to climb, spurred on by the cheap, high carbohydrate diet he fell into whilst living in the apartment.

When he was with Lucy, Ryan had indulged himself in sugary treats and even high calorie supplements that he would now consider an eyewatering drain on his monthly budget. He was having to to work harder than ever to bring in the money and his paunch seemed to lose that fluffy softness of his early gains, solidifying into something firmer and more rounded as it continued to push itself out from under his chest.

New clothes were also a luxury that Ryan could ill-afford. His t-shirts fitted awkwardly around the swell of his stomach and there were many times in work when he felt a cool breeze on his butt crack. Beer was the only luxury he allowed himself in those early days, especially on the weekends, when Paul usually went back to visit his family and Ash was generally out partying with his boyfriend. In those few, blissful hours, he could guzzle down his beers whilst sitting in his underwear in front of the shared TV screen, appreciating exactly why he had given up his marriage. Life was hard, but it wasn’t always awful.

Through word of mouth, Ryan had started picking up more work on some of the other rental properties for students that littered this area of town. Desperate for the work, Ryan had been undercutting people quite dramatically in order to guarantee an income for himself. However, trying to get an early start on these types of properties was never as easy. Students were inherently lazy, he decided, whilst banging on the door of one apartment, trying to get someone to let him in. After a full five minutes, a groggy looking guy crawled to the door wearing only his underwear and a t-shirt that was back to front.

“Your landlord sent me to see your air con,” Ryan eventually explained.

Without a word, the exhausted guy simply opened the door further and let Ryan get by. “You’re not going to be noisy are you?” he eventually asked. “My boyfriend is still asleep.”

Ryan looked at his watch. It was almost 10.30 in the morning. Why would anyone still be asleep now?

“It’s okay. I’m getting up anyway,” yawned another guy, waddling sleepily from the bedroom and giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. It was only then that Ryan clocked him. It was Ben, Ash’s obviously cheating boyfriend; the guy’s face suddenly looking considerably more alert as he too recognised Ryan.

“You’re not going to tell Ash, are you?” Ben shouted, having followed Ryan out of the apartment the second he had finished up; safely out of earshot of his second boyfriend.

“Of course I am,” Ryan replied simply, continuing to walk away, without stopping.

“You’re just going to make him miserable,” the guy shot back. “Is that what you want?”

At this, Ryan laughed. Guilty people always seemed to have such a terrific way of turning things back around on the other person. “Trust me,” he sniggered. “He’ll be way better off without someone like you in his life.”

“Do you think it was easy for me with Ash?” Ben started next; his tone shifting to something nastier. “It’s not exactly easy trying to feel special when your boyfriend has a massive crush on the pot-bellied daddy bear he shares an apartment with. How do you think that made me feel?”

“What are you even talking about?” Ryan laughed, surprised at how far Ben was going with his bullshit. A daddy bear? He was only six years older than Ash.

“Oh, come on. You know exactly what you’re doing,” Ben snapped back, getting more viscious as he realised that Ryan wasn’t willing to compromise with him. “You’re always there, or strutting about in just your underwear, drinking your beers in the living area and being overly friendly. You’ve been trying to fuck things up for the two of us for ages.”

Now Ryan did stop, turning to face Ben properly. “What planet are you living on?” he asked, completely flabbergasted. “I just try to be pleasant. I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Prove it then,” Ben shot back, seizing upon an opportunity. “If you’re really not trying to fuck things up between us, you’ll let this one little indiscretion slide.”

If Ryan hadn’t just had the hardest year of his life, dealing with some of the most despicable, bullying lawyers out there, he may have fallen for Ben’s game. As it was, he wasn’t afraid of standing his ground. “Tell him by the time I get home later. Or I will.”

Ryan crept into the apartment later that evening, finding Paul in the kitchen. “You missed some drama today,” he sighed. “Ash and Ben broke up. I walked in on it all before. It was so awkward.”

“Is Ash okay?” Ryan asked, relieved that Ben had listened to his ultimatum and done the deed himself.

“He’s in his room,” Paul nodded over to the bedroom door. “We’d best leave him be.”

Ryan nodded in complete agreement, deciding to hide out in his room that evening so that Ash didn’t need to see anyone when he would inevitably have to come out for a glass of water, or to use the bathroom.

The evening was slipping away and Ryan had just finished a TV series that he had been charging through for the last two weeks. There was still an hour until he would need to get to sleep; enough time for one last beer, before the inevitable daily grind would start all over again. He strutted out of his bedroom and made for the refrigerator, pausing only briefly to crack the can open and chug a little of it. He burped quietly, finding that the first few mouthfuls of fresh beer always made him the most gassy. Then, suddenly, he heard the door to Ash’s room opening and he stood there, feeling completely caught out.

“Hi,” Ash whispered, not making any pretenses that he was here for any other reason than to see Ryan.

Feeling incredibly awkward, Ryan now regretted coming out of his room without a shirt on; his bloated pot belly on full display. Before today, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but Ben’s words had planted an unpleasant seed in his mind that made him question everything he did a little bit more. “I’m sorry to hear about Ben,” he stated straight away. “How are you doing?”

Ash sighed and began to pour his heart out. He knew all about Ryan’s discovery earlier that day and he thanked the guy for doing the right thing.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Ryan nodded, swigging the last of his beer and crushing the can for recycling. He shouldn’t have really had another one. His stomach felt quite painfully bloated and tight after it.

“Oh, and about those things that Ben said to you,” Ash quickly jumped in, seeing that Ryan was heading back to his room. “I hope it’s not going to make things awkward between us.”

Ryan had to think for a second about what Ash was getting at. The crush? Was Ben actually telling the truth about that? “Um, no. Not at all,” he mumbled back, rubbing his hair with a little embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, finally making his escape.

An evening out with Jack was exactly what Ryan needed a couple of weekends later, as Ryan’s divorce was at last finalised. Unlike Ryan’s months of hell, Jack’s appearance was symbolic of a life of sheer indulgence and pleasure. Unlike Ryan, his body was pure softness, with blubber beginning to creep its way into the guy’s neck and upper arms. His stomach had swollen quite considerably and his butt had a surprising width to it that Ryan had not expected.

“Listen, I didn’t want to message you about this. I kind of feel pretty bad asking you in some ways, knowing what you’re going through,” Jack started after Ryan had finished explaining how the divorce had eventually played out. “I wanted you to be my best man.”

Ryan smiled brightly. “Of course I will,” he beamed, getting up to hug his old friend warmly as he stayed sitting in his chair.

“Thanks,” Jack smiled. “It’s not going to be a huge wedding. Not everyone approves,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“How do you mean?” Ryan asked, sensing that Jack needed to offload.

“Well, Michelle’s parents aren’t coming,” he huffed. “They’d watched Michelle do this to her old boyfriend,” he explained, rubbing the quite substantial shelf of belly fat under his sagging nipples. “So when the same thing started happening to me, they told her they wanted no part in it.”

“Bonus!” Ryan joked, trying to remain upbeat. “My marriage certainly would have gone a lot smoother without the in-laws.”

Jack nodded, seeming to be somewhat in agreement. “Michelle’s not too cut up about it,” he whispered. “Then, well, you remember my dad. He still goes out running three times a week. So he’s not been all that in favour of Michelle and her wholesome home cooking..”

“You can’t live your life for your parents,” Ryan jumped in. It was a lesson he had learned somewhat bitterly when his own church-goin parents had taken Lucy’s side in the divorce. It made him think back to how much they had pushed him to get married in the first place, and he began to resent them, quite justifiably in his opinion.

“I know, I know…” Jack nodded. “And I wouldn’t change a thing. She’s it for me, y’know?”

Ryan raised his beer and they drank to that sentiment.

“What about you?” Jack asked next. “Is there someone new you’ve been holding back from me?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stated. “Well… I mean…” he hesitated for a moment. “No. No one.”

But Jack’s interest had already been piqued. “Oh, come on. You can’t give me that and then say nothing!” he teased.

Ryan sighed, realising that he had dug himself into a bit of a hole. “It’s nothing,” he huffed at his own stupidity. “It’s just, one of the guys I live with has a bit of a crush on me.”

“Your first chubby chaser!” Jack laughed wickedly.

“Well…” Ryan conceded. “It looks that way, yes. His ex-boyfriend told me off for strutting around the place in just my underwear. He said I had a pot-belly and told me his boyfriend thinks of me as a hot daddy bear!”

Jack chuckled again. “Well, he’s not wrong. You do have quite the pot-belly!”

“Isn’t it a bit weird though?” Ryan asked his friend.

“Being referred to as a daddy bear when you’re only twenty nine?” Jack asked, simultaneously nodding in agreement. “But once you put on a bit of extra meat, that’s just the way people see you. It’s much more arousing to lean into it, rather than try to fight it.”

“Lean into it?” Ryan asked. “That’s your best advice?”

“Just enjoy the attention,” Jack smirked. “So what if he’s a twenty-four year old gay guy? You don’t have to be into someone to appreciate their admiration,” he nodded knowingly. “Trust me on this one. You’ll come to see that I’m right.”

With the divorce at last over with and all lawyers paid off, Ryan began to feel the financial strain starting to ease. Lucy hadn’t been quite as successful in getting all that she wanted from him. The worst case scenario was, thankfully, avoided. A few more months of living with the boys and Ryan would soon have saved enough money to rent his own place instead. With the ties that bound him to his ex-wife now finally disappearing, Ryan began to remember why he had fought so long for this freedom.

“I’ll have the Monster Meat bucket,” he declared, walking into a fast food place and not feeling guilty about the cost for the first time in months. He sucked in the smell of all the greasy goodness and knew that this was a freedom he would never again take for granted. Now he could gorge on as much as he desired and never have to explain himself to anyone. He could literally get as fat as he wanted now he was divorced and single, with no one to please but himself.

As he settled down into a seat, Ryan felt the bliss of devoting all his attention just to his epic meal for a full 20 minutes. It was all the stress relief he had ever needed. No one in here was particularly slim and it seemed, in those moments, that he had taken himself out of a world that so frustrated him, and into one that he felt comfortable in. Sure, he could probably join a gym and drop this weight in a relatively short amount of time. He could train his body hard and attract some beautiful girl to make his ex jealous. But Ryan knew that he had moved beyond that now. He didn’t care what his ex thought of him, or anyone else for that matter.

Or was Ryan just kidding himself? Was this really a moment of clarity? Or would he soon go crawling back to a diet plan the second things started getting rough? He was desperate to believe that wouldn’t be the case, but no one could ever be totally certain when it came to the future. It was only the present he could master. And so, armed with that knowledge, he went back to the counter, even though he felt almost too stuffed to even think about food.

“I’ll have the triple burger, please,” he stated, adding another milkshake to go with it. “He felt his hardess start to tingle, like the old days when he used to do this. Back then, he’d assumed it to be some twisted excitement about pissing Lucy off. Now he realised that this was so much more. This was about taking himself to somewhere he had never allowed himself to imagine going..

“Is this for you?” Ash asked, handing Ryan two boxes of pizza. “The delivery guy was coming up the stairs as I got home.”

“About time!” Ryan sighed, taking the boxes from him and settling back into the chair in front of the sofa. Two pizzas were a necessity for the Friday night baseball game and he was already four beers down. It would have been a perfect night but for the sticky humidity that had loomed over the city for the last few days; making him strip to his boxers as soon as he got home. “Do you follow baseball?” he asked Ash politely, nodding to the couch to see if he wanted to join him; knowing that, with Paul gone for the weekend, Ash would be on his own otherwise.

“No. Watching sports is not really my thing,” Ash replied unenthusiastically, despite continuing to linger around.

“Do you mind getting me another beer then?” Ryan asked,deciding to put the guy to work if he was so free to just stand about like this. 

Ash hopped to his task with remarkable speed. “Here you go,” he smiled delightedly, heading straight over and handing it over to him, not seeming to realise that he was blcoking part of the TV screen. “I’ve got some chips and dip if you want some?” he asked next.

“Sure,” Ryan nodded, hoping that the guy would at least sit down then and stop getting in the way.

Once again, Ash went to his task, presenting the chips and dip much better than Ryan ever would have. He placed them on the coffee table and then finally sat himself down on the couch. 

“You not having any?” Ryan asked five minutes later, noticing that it was only him actually eating.

“No, thanks,” Ash simply replied, pretending to be interested in the game. “They’re for you. Do you want another beer?”

Ryan felt the remaining liquid in his beer can and nodded, surprised by how diligently he was being looked after. Even when he asked Ash to fetch him the ice cream from the freezer later on, he was surprised that the young guy hopped to it, bouncing off the couch with an enthusiasm he had never seen before.

At the end of the game, Ryan took himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after the seven cans of beer he had ended up consuming. He looked in the mirror and marveled at the reflection he saw within it. Bloated and stuffed, Ryan had never seen his stomach looking so round and tight. Although he had upgraded his underwear a little while back, already these were looking worn and stretched, pulling the waistband down so that a good couple of inches of butt crack were on show. His muscular chest had started to build up with fleshiness in recent weeks and he placed his hand there to feel just how soft it was starting to get under his arms. He pulled the scales out with his foot and wondered just how much he weighed in this overfed state. He stepped on, waiting for the numbers to settle: 256lbs; the biggest number he had ever seen by quite some margin. It was, quite frankly, the cause of an almost instantaneous erection.

“I was wondering, if you’re still hungry, I could make you some pancakes?” Ash asked next as Ryan finally made it out of the bathroom. “I’ve got all the ingredients in.”

Ryan sat himself back down with a grunt and rubbed the shelf of his tight stomach, surprised that Ash was still hanging about the living area. Couldn’t he see how full Ryan was? Was he completely obvious to the heavy breathing and occasional grunt when he had to move, even slightly. He knew that the guy had a little crush, but what on earth was he possibly getting out of all this?

“Go on,” Ash pressed, actually trying to persuade him now. “Just a couple of them; nothing too big.”

Ryan looked up at the guy, already making his way to the kitchen and just waiting for that final nod of approval from him. Out of little more than curiosity, he agreed; watching with interest as he spied Ash settling to his task. Was he really using that much oil to fry the batter mix up? Was he actually rubbing butter into them? Did he really need to pour on that much syrup?

Despite tasting amazing, Ryan knew that every mouthful he was taking was completely and utterly packed full of calories and fat. As if desperate for his approval, Ash had watched him consume every bite of them. A sweat had begun to pour off Ryan’s forehead, but he wasn’t entirely sure that this one was caused by the humidity. “I am absolutely stuffed!” Ryan declared, grunting and rubbing the stretched out ball of stomach fat. “I haven’t eaten this much in ages,” he chuckled. “Not since I was trying to piss off my ex-wife after she told me she liked me being skinny.” “You were putting on weight on purpose?” Ash asked, quite startled by the comment.

“I was going for it, like you wouldn’t believe!” Ryan nodded. “Unless you’ve been through it, it’s hard to comprehend how petty you can be towards the end of a bad marriage,” he grinned, suddenly noticing that his hands were all over his own rounded stomach. “I was even taking this special calorie supplement shake you can buy, just to speed things up,” he laughed, thinking back.

“Oh!” Ash exclaimed knowledgeably, suddenly naming the exact brand .

They both went quiet. What a strange piece of trivia for Ash to just know, thought Ryan. The guy seemed to sense that too, suddenly looking a little sheepish. 

“Do you still take them?” Ash asked next, trying to look a little less interested than his excitable voice made him sound.

“I don’t need to,” Ryan grinned, tapping his fully grown pot belly. I just weighed myself twenty minutes ago. I’ve put on another 40lbs since I moved in here. It seems that I just can’t stop these days!” He yawned, standing up and stretching. “Anyway, buddy. I need to head to sleep,” he declared, seizing upon the fact that his erection from the overeating had at last subsided.

“Do you think there is a way to tell if someone is like your Michelle?” Ryan asked the next time he caught up with Jack at the very hastily organised stag party.

“How do you mean?” Jack asked, only a little worse for wear as he and Ryan gradually fell to the back of the crowd of friends taking them to the next bar.

“You know… Someone who is into the idea of helping someone else gain weight,” Ryan explained, trying to keep his voice fairly low.

Jack chuckled. “Oh, trust me, you’ll spot them!” he nodded. They’re not exactly subtle. “They’ll find ways to ensure you’re eating and they’ll probably want to watch too. If they’re anything like Michelle, they’ll probably try to keep your activity levels low and complement you at the weirdest times; like when you’re bloated from overeating.”

Ryan nodded, taking it all in and finding a striking resemblences to Ash’s more recent behaviours. “Anything else?” he asked.

Jack considered for a moment. “The compliments,” he added next. “They’re totally bizarre. If they’re praising you for overeating, that’s a pretty sure sign. But sometimes they may try to convince you that you look better, or more masculine, or whatever it is they think you want to hear. When the reality is, you just look fat.”

Again, Ryan nodded, keen to match Jack’s thoughts to his own observations of Ash. “You see, I think I might have…”

“Come on!” shouted their drunk friends up ahead. “The night is still young. Stop waddling behind and get your big butts up here!”

Jack and Ryan smirked at each other. Despite Jack’s rather considerable extra weight, Ryan had been lumbered in exactly the same category. The pair of them were, for better or worse, the fat guys on this trip.

“You’re back!” Ash smiled late the next day as an exhausted Ryan made it home. “Did you have a nice time? Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat?”

Ryan looked again at the time. “You’re still up!” he asked with surprise, knowing that Ash always had an early class on Monday mornings.

“Well, I wanted to check that you got home okay,”Ash replied, heading to the kitchen and renewing his offer to make something for his roommate.

Smirking at the fact that he was being fussed over and mothered by a good-looking twenty-four year old, Ryan had been disappointed that he hadn’t had more alone time to discuss this situation he was in, with his buddy, Jack. “Okay,” he nodded, deciding to just let Ash do his thing. “Sure, that would be nice.” He headed for a shower, returning to find an enormous, steaming hot lasagne, glistening with grease and cheese, sitting there on a plate, ready to be eaten. “Did you make this from scratch?” he asked Ash.

Ash nodded. “I remembered you saying that lasagne used to be your favourite dish growing up. I’ve never made it before, but I made a whole bunch of them and portioned them up in the refrigerator for when you get hungry.

Ryan smiled at the effort Ash had clearly gone to for him; a whole new level of care and attention. He opened his mouth to try some and nodded in approval. The lasagne really was delicious, although it was more than obvious just how much oil, cream and several different types of cheeses had gone into it to make it really quite extremely high in calories. If all the beer and fast food hadn’t ensured his pants would be tighter tomorrow, this little calorie bomb sure would.

“How was the weekend, anyway?” Ash asked, sticking around for the show and watching Ryan devour every bite.

“Pretty good,” Ryan nodded. “I had a couple of jibes from some of my old school friends about my weight. But we all turn thirty this year, so the dad-bod is definitely where most of them are at now anyway. I’m just the one who has already graduated from that stage,” he winked at Ash, tapping his gut.

“What did they say?” Ash asked with surprising interest, placing a cushion over his crotch.

“Oh, you know,” Ryan went on, deciding to play up to whatever kinky fantasies he thought his roomate may be having. “Just pointing stuff out to me: telling me how tight my clothes are, how slow I was when we were walking to different places and calling me out on how much I was eating when we went for food.”

“They’re probably just jealous,” Ash shot back straight away.

Ryan smirked. There was no way any of the guys were in the least bit jealous of his sprouting pot belly, making him all but invisible to the many hot girls they bumped into that weekend. This was clearly just another one of those bizarre compliments that Jack had told him to look out for. “Yeah, you’re right,” he lied to Ash, rubbing his bloating gut as he chugged down a few of the sodas Ash had supplied with his late night meal. “I’m sure they are jealous, deep down.”

Stepping on the scale was not something that Ryan did all that often. He could feel his stomach’s rounded shape starting to swell even larger, and he knew, from the fit of his underwear and pants, that his thighs and butt were also bearing the brunt of all that he was consuming each day. Still, as he stepped up, early one Sunday morning, after a particularly gluttonous take-out weekend of having the apartment to himself, Ryan’s eyes widened in shock: 278lbs! “Fuck!” he blasted in shock, before laughing to himself at how fast the latest few pounds had slipped on. He really weighed that much? He didn’t feel that heavy! He strolled over to the mirror inspecting his shape. Sure, his gut was pretty well developed by now and all the extra eating had sure softened his chest up rather a lot. He spun, noting that his butt’s width was quite considerable now, with back fat bulding at his sides and folding under his shoulder blades. Yet, he still didn’t feel like he should weigh 278lbs! Somehow, he had always imagined a guy that size being much bigger than this. What Ryan actually felt as he saw himself there, was very small still; acting as a licence for him to continue to indulge.

Jack’s wedding was fast approaching as the weeks rolled by. After being fitted for their suits, Ryan and Jack headed out for something to eat.

“That tailor seemed pretty pissed off that we left it this late to get ourselves measured for the wedding outfits,” Ryan noted as they sat down and grabbed the menus. “I guess we’ll have to cross our fingers that they can get those pants in for you in time.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jack shrugged. “I put on weight every week, so there would have been no point in going any earlier. I would just have outgrown them. “I’m almost 350lbs these days.”

Ryan nodded. Jack did indeed look impressively large, yet he was only 60lbs or so bigger than he was. And Ryan still felt tiny in comparison. “I know what you mean,” Ryan agreed. “I split some pants the other day. I’d only bought them four weeks before.”

“It’s weird, isnt it. When you’re gaining weight, you’re so tuned into how your body feels and looks. Yet, at the same time, you’re completely oblivious to it as well; how tight your clothes are getting, or how large you seem to other people.”

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. He felt so glad that Jack noticed this as well, sparking a lively conversation between the pair.

“You’ll be getting your own place soon, I take it?” Jack asked. “The two students you're sharing with must be graduating soon?”

“A couple of months,” Ryan nodded, suddenly realising that he had been a little lazy in his hunt for a new apartment. 

“That’ll be nice!” Jack smiled. “Your own space at last!”

“Well, it’s not too bad as it is,” Ryan explained. “Paul is never there at weekends. And now he’s got himself a girlfriend, he’s not there much in the week either.”

“And what about the other one? The one you used to fight with loads?”

“Yeah, he’s there a lot, but… we don’t argue so much these days,” he admitted; suddenly feeling the desire to say so much more about kinky little Ash.

“Before I foget,” Jack jumped in. “Michelle wants to know who you’re bringing as your ‘plus one’ to the wedding next week.

“I’ve got a ‘plus one’?” Ryan asked, genuinely surprised.

“Dude!” Jack grumbled. “Seriously?”

“I’ll find someone,” Ryan replied hastily, seeing how stressed Jack was getting.

“What about that girl you were hinting at when we briefly chatted during my stag party?” Jack asked, clearly keen to get a name locked in.

Ryan thought for a moment. Had Jack assumed he had some potential hot chubby chaser girl on the go? He pondered the idea, realising, quite suddenly, that he didn’t really need one. In the most unexpected way, everything that he had yearned for in life had already arrived. “Hey, Jack,” he asked thoughtfully. “How did you know that Michelle was the one for you?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Jack shot back with a sly grin.

“Besides that,” Ryan insisted. “How did you know that you guys were meant to be together?”

Jack sighed. “I guess…” he began softly, “...it was the way she made me feel: so loved and cared for; admired and adored. I’ve never felt that from anyone before.” He seemed moved, just by talking about her. “Plus she dominated me and forced me to pack on over 150lbs of pure fat; which is one of the kinkiest fucking things I could ever have imagined!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ryan laughed and nodded. He made a crack about how much fatter Jack might be after he got home from his honeymoon, but, really, his mind was elsewhere; with someone else entirely.

Ryan arrived home to see a large crate of beers resting on the kitchen counter tied up with a ginormous red bow. He laughed, seeing that it was his favourite brand and noticing that a large tray of assorted doughnuts lay beside it.

“Do you like your present?” Ash asked, coming out of his bedroom with a huge smile on his face.

“You bought these for me?” Ryan asked, feeling his mouth watering at the sight of the doughnuts, even after how much he had eaten with Jack that afternoon.

As if psychically linked, Ash began unpackaging the doughnuts for him, leaving them open for him to stuff one into his mouth. “They’re to say thank you. I just had my novel manuscript accepted for publishing.”

Ryan nearly spat out his doughnut. “You’ve been writing a novel?” he blasted in shock. “Since when?”

“Since you kept reminding me that I need to do something with my life; back when you first moved in.”

“I was being an asshole,” Ryan confessed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

“You gave me the kick up the ass that I needed,” Ash threw back with a smile. “You always told me how clever I was and that I could do anything.”

“You’re an amazing person,” Ryan marvelled. “In fact, you’re the best person I’ve ever met in my life!” For weeks now, he had worried that his behavious around Ash, indulging his little feeder tendencies in subtle ways, had only brought the guy to fetishize him. Their relationship was merely one of a simple exchange: Ryan would enjoy being overfed and catered for by his roommate, and Ash would get to enjoy the subtle art of ensuring a guy that he found attractive, continued to pile on a few pounds. Now, however, every sense felt strangetly heightened in this moment of celebration. He couldn’t believe that Ash had been secretly writing away for months when Ryan had assumed the guy to be inside his bedroom, playing games. Just how blind had he been this entire time?

Ryan took a step forward and Ash did not retreat. He grabbed the much smaller guy’s shoulders and held them firmly. Again, Ash did not stop him. Then, seeing the inviting, warm look on Ash’s face, Ryan took the biggest risk of his life, going in for a kiss and desperately hoping that Ash’s lips would move to meet his.

Unbelievably, Ash was kissing him back, moaning gently, as if luxuriating in something he had never wanted more in his life. The kiss became intense, very quickly. With his shirt lifted off him, Ryan felt the handsome guy’s hands rubbing all over his stomach. Before he knew it, Ryan was being guided into the living space, his sweatpants ripped down and then his body pushed with surprisingly kinky force, back into his usual chair in front of the TV. 

Ryan looked up at Ash with startled arousal. The guy seemed so naturally suited to taking charge. He would have known that this was Ryan’s first gay experience and he led the way with ease, erasing any opportunity for awkward fumblings to slip in. He cracked open one of the chilled beers and fetched the tray of doughnuts from the kitchen counter. Then, when he was sure that Ryan was settled, he plunged his whole mouth down onto the fat guy’s crotch.

Ryan’s whole body twitched.This wasn’t a blow job, he thought to himself, feeling the intense stimulation straight away. He found himself moaning, even when he was trying not to. Was this intense pleasure what it was supposed to have been like all along? Lucy had never made much of an effort with anything in the bedroom, but Ash’s mouth was doing things to him that Ryan could never have dreamed of. He supped on his beer and ate a doughnut, feeling Ash’s hands rubbing the spherical shape of his stomach, clearly getting off on making this moment all about him.

Barely two doughnuts in and Ryan felt his body lurching as it wanted to climax. Ash worked his pace even more, feeling the throbbing in his mouth. Then, when the moment came, he pushed his mouth even deeper, sending Ryan’s hardness all the way down his throat. The pleasure; the orgasm; that intensity. It was unlike anything Ryan had ever experienced in his life. 

There was no going back.

Over the following week, Ryan discovered that Ash had a whole arsenal of tactics to please him. Not only did the guy continue to fuss over him with his cooking and snack deliveries, but his tight, energetic little butt seemed determined to outdo every single previous sexual experience that Ryan had ever had. They spoke at length about their attraction to each other and how smitten they both had become. Ryan had no hesitation in inviting Ash to be his date for Jack’s wedding. And, in fact, spending so much time with a now professional writer, really helped Ryan to produce the best speech he could have wished for. Rather than feeling sick with nerves as the big day arrived, he felt excited and pumped, heartily stuffing himself on the big breakfast Ash had so lovingly prepared for him.

“Your friends really aren’t keen on Michelle, are they?” Ash commented later that evening, as the pair of them were reunited after Ryan’s time sitting at the top table and the endless photographs that needed taking.

“Um, no,” Ryan nodded. “Not so much.”

“I had no idea that your friend, Jack, used to be so slim before he met her,” he whispered, fearing that one of their families might overhear. “Your buddies seem to think she’s the devil incarnate!”

Ryan chuckled. He’d heard it all before. “She’s lovely really,” he tried, looking over at the pair of them as Michelle spoonfed her 350lb husband a large piece of their wedding cake. “She just… knows what she wants.”

“I think everyone here can see exactly what it is she wants,” Ash joked back as Jack’s full, swollen belly was patted with approval by his new wife. “It makes me wonder what your friends are going to say about me eventually.”

Ryan pulled Ash into him by holding his slim hips in his chubby hands. They had decided that it was best to go easy on the public displays of affection, considering that this was their first time out together as a couple. However, Ryan simply could not help himself.  “Oh, yes?” he asked keenly.

“I certainly don’t have any plans to put you on a diet,” Ash grinned, fingering the skin between the stretched buttons of Ryan’s beer swollen gut.

Ryan growled in lustful approval. His hands slipped onto Ash’stight, toned butt and pulled the guy in even closer.

“In fact, how come you’re not eating a big slice of wedding cake for me right now?” Ash teased.

Ryan moaned lightly. This was exactly what he wanted. He knew how much scrutiny he was under today. He could feel the judgemental eyes upon him, for his shocking weight gain, the fit of his tight shirt, and the fact that he was dating someone none of them had ever expected. He should have been nervous or self conscious. However, with Ash in his arms, Ryan had never felt more free to be himself. “But won’t that make me even fatter?” he teased back.

Ash smiled. “Oh… I hadn’t thought of that,” he joked, accepting the kiss that Ryan soon bestowed upon him.

Ryan felt Ash’s hands feeling his big, broad butt as they kissed; the pants he had been measured for only a week ago, starting to feel rather uncomfortable after only a week of dating the handsome twenty-four year old. The kiss ended and both of them laughed, realising how ridiculously long it had taken to get to this point. 

“Is this along the lines of what you had in mind for me?” Ryan asked moments later, pushing out his stomach as far as it would go and stretching those buttons even more.

Ash seemed thrilled, looking around the room in surprise that Ryan was making himself look so large in front of everyone that he knew at the wedding. He smiled, rubbing the underside of Ryan’s ball-like gut and then leaned in to whisper. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased.

Ryan growled in lustful appreciation, then took his boyfriend’s hand and led the way to the wedding cake.

Exactly one year to the day, Ryan and Ash were sitting in that same room, together with Jack and Michelle, celebrating a year since the wedding. They reminisced fondly, thinking about the perfect day it had been and laughing about how shocked everyone had been after Jack came back 30lbs heavier from his two week honeymoon. 

“You can’t be far off the weight I was this time last year,” Jack noted, surveying his buddy’s hefty appearance.

“Possibly,” Ryan nodded, rubbing his large stomach. “I still  don’t feel big yet though,” he replied, as if he was oblivious to the enormous ball-shaped gut and the groaning of the chair, supporting his wide butt and mostrous 347lb body.

“Unless I ask him to do something,” Ash jumped in comically. “Then he always says he’s too fat to do anything!” he joked, making everyone chuckle.

“I’m actually going to be pushing Jack to five hundred pounds this year,” Michelle explained, taking her morbidly obese husband’s hand as if this was an announcement that thay had been planning for some time.

Ryan noticed Jack staring at his face for a reaction; perhaps some surprise that his old school buddy was so ensnared by his beautiful wife that he was willing to take his weight gain to such extremes for her.

“He’s going to be a lot of work for you at that size!” Ash grinned conspiratorily at Michelle. “I hope you’re ready for that?” he laughed.

“Oh, I’m counting on it!” Michelle smirked, rubbing the 430lb man’s knee under the table.

“You’re a very lucky guy,” Ryan nodded at his friend in approval.

“There you go, Ash,” Michelle smirked. “It sounds like we may have another willing volunteer to join the five hundred pound club,” she nodded towards a jealous looking Ryan.

“You’re joking aren’t you?” Ryan laughed. “Ash is heading off on his second book tour in March. “I won’t be gaining anything for almost two months whilst he’s gone. I’ll probably just wate away!”

“You liar!” Ash teased him back. “Last time I was away, you pretty much lived on takeout and put on almost twenty pounds in a month,” he chuckled.

“I don’t remember you complaining,” Ryan smiled back; his voice dripping with affection and lust.

Michelle looked at them both, clearly wanting to cut through their mushy meanderings. “So, five hundred pounds?” she asked again, trying to circle the conversation back. “I’m getting the impression that you boys are kinky enough to enjoy seeing that on Ryan,” she pressed; ever the bad influence.

Ryan and Ash looked at each other with a wicked excitement in their eyes.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Ash stated diplomatically. Unlike Michelle, he liked to be a little more discreet about his kinks and fantasies when it came to enjoying Ryan’s large body.

Ryan smirked and winked at his old buddy Jack. He knew exactly how to read between the lines of whatever Ash said. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to get Ryan to that size. And so, just like his high school best pal, Ryan was as good as setting sail for five hundred pounds. How insanely arousing was that?

“Eat up, my friend,” Ryan smiled competitively at Jack. “I’m coming for you, Fat Boy!” 

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fic

[vetteltea]

Sebastian Vettel and Baking Christmas Treats [no warnings]

Day 3 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

You have never been able to understand how your husband brings such a gentle wave of peace to a household, but you would never complain. 

Complaining would be pointless, especially when the ability to keep such a peaceful home had gained you an extra hour in bed that morning. It would have been so simple to let sleep overtake you, bury your head into your husband’s pillow and drift back into slumber, but curiosity had taken the better of you.

For a start, there was music coming from downstairs, upbeat, festive songs floating through the open-plan kitchen and up the stairs. You could hear his voice, singing along to each song which came on, only seemingly more performative in his vocals as they continued. Without hesitation, you slipped on the dressing gown which he had lovingly left at the end of your bed, adjusting the blankets on the bed and slipping away from the bedroom. 

“Sweetheart?” Your footsteps were clearly not as subtle as you had intended. It either must have been that or the fact that you had stepped on the one creaky stair; both of you kept reminding one another it needed fixing, though with the life you both lead, sometimes it was easier to place a job aside for another day. “Are you coming to join?”

Stepping into the kitchen, you were certain you felt your heart melt and rejoin in various patterns. Your husband stood at the counter, blonde curls which he had finally let you trim still as unruly as when you had first met. He’s wearing an old t-shirt, his pajama pants are clearly stained, though to you he is still the most handsome man in the universe. In one hand, he holds a baking tray, shortbread biscuits already baked and if your visual clues are correct, ready for decorating. In the other, a blinking, smiling one-year-old, her curls identical to her father, but blessed with your eyes. 

“Good morning, Momma!” His voice raises an octave, gently bouncing your daughter in his grasp and placing down the baking tray, his free hand now motioning you over. Your routine settles in, pressing a soft kiss to your daughters forehead, another to Sebastian’s lips. 

“Are we decorating, then?” You adjust the sleeves of your dressing gown, making sure that they won’t dip into the icing or sprinkles he had already bought out. It had become a tradition when you were first dating, long before the birth of your daughter or even moving in together; the first weekend of December was for making Christmas Cookies and watching movies. Whereas last year was some slapstick about a holiday romance, you were more than excited to flick back to an animation this year for the youngest member of the family. 

The youngest member in question has already transfixed onto the bright colors of the icing and sprinkles, cooing loudly and attempting to reach her tiny hand to grasp at the decorations. Your husband has always been a firm believer in physical development, hence why he gently leant forward, letting her hands grab onto what he thought would be one of the cookies they had baked whilst you had been asleep. 

It all happens too quickly for you to stop; one hand dips into the royal blue icing before lifting dramatically at the sensation, flinging her tiny paw away from the counter and into your husband’s face, his chin and lips now frosted in icing. 

For a moment, you think you’re about to have a crying baby and an annoyed husband - but, this is Sebastian. More importantly, his daughter inherits so many of your traits, though one which he holds close to his heart; the ability to laugh and smile anything off. Immediately, your daughter falls into a bout of giggles, her father being painted bright blue clearly amusing.

And of course, you can’t disagree, laughing alongside the baby as you walk over to the drying rack, collecting some kitchen paper to wipe away the frosting. 

“Thank you, my darling.” He shakes his head at the grinning baby, still in fits of giggles as you gently take her hand, wiping away the remaining icing, before turning the attention to your husband, gently cleaning his jaw and chin. When the icing only remains on his lips, you pull away, smirking. 

“I think you missed-” He begins, before realizing your intentions, his own grin mirroring your own. Lips are finally back on his own, the feeling of kissing you always identical to the first time; how his heart had raced and was shocked to believe it was actually happening. You were kissing him. 

He would have kept it up, completely forgotten the cookies for another hour, if he hadn’t felt a tiny hand on his cheek, a whine from his daughter. The moment he pulls away, her tiny face is pressed to yours, adamant that she now wants kisses from her mama. The two of you trade her off, letting her nuzzle into your chest and blink up at your face whilst keeping eye contact with her father. 

“Traitor.” He mumbles. “My own girls are against me!” It’s said with nothing but the sincerest amount of love, really. 

“Awah, she just wants to decorate cookies, don’t you?” Your attention presses to look at the baby, kissing the top of her forehead. Sebastian doesn't hesitate this time in stepping forward, his arm around your shoulder as you both step back towards the cookies, keeping traditions whilst adding a third member to the memories.

#Sebastian Vettel #SV5 #Sebastian Vettel x Reader #Sebastian Vettel Imagine #Sebastian Vettel One Shot #Sebastian Vettel x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Sebastian Vettel Blurb #Sebastian Vettel x Y/N

[missbalbaquoi]

out like a light - izuku midoriya ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

in which izuku finds you asleep on your couch while waiting for him. | 1.1k+ words, no cw warnings, based on a song

Izuku Midoriya is the golden boy, ever since he started his journey in the hero industry, and only a few ever get to see him unmasked, bare and vulnerable; but even then, he tries to stand tall, proud and unwavering.

You don't want the golden boy.

Ever since you met Izuku, all you ever thought about was what position he was going to sleep in for the night, what breakfast you'll both be having, and most importantly-- given his size, how you'll both share the same blanket in your small apartment he chose to move in-- assuming he comes home to you tonight.

The transition was wordless, but it felt right when he started sleeping in your place, your home.

"just for a night," turned into a week, a week into a month, and soon Izuku has his toothbrush beside yours.

It's another weeknight spent alone in your apartment, one that feels long and uneventful given that your lover spends most of his nights working overtime, enjoying the burden of the one thing he's wanted for almost all his life.

You're very familiar with your boyfriend's life story, his past and the future he wants with you, but sometimes it just doesn't feel like it anymore; especially when it seems like you always come second to his job.

Not that you mind, you knew what you were getting into when you chose to be in this relationship with him, you were gonna love him with all your heart even if that means you spend most of it wondering if you'll be able to spend the weekend together.

Being in his mid-twenties, Izuku was reaching new heights as a pro-hero, reflecting his tremendous capacity to help other people, his skill and mind as one of his generation's greatest; you on the other hand, young, but not quite, enjoy the silence of normalcy juxtaposed with Izuku's fast-paced life of heroism.

You like the idea of keeping him grounded, you're his reminder that life exists outside of his world and there's another reason to go home.

Home. Is he home right now?

You fall asleep sitting on the couch while looking at the clock, waiting for Izuku to arrive through the door, head rested on your hand; the small living room is illuminated by the fluorescent light that shines through the window. Though the living room is small, it's spaciously empty with just you basking in the silence of the night.

Izuku sits in his office at the agency after his round of patrol for the day, fixing up some extra paperwork to free his weekend to spend with you, eyes weighing heavily with the thought of sleep and rest.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he finishes up the last of his paperwork and gets ready to leave, shooting up a text to your phone.

on my way home already.

His face scrunches up a little when he sees he's left on delivered, but he paid no more attention to it, chalking it up to you being tucked into bed given the time.

Soon his key is in the door and he steps into the dimly lit apartment, taking off his shoes while his eyes immediately travel to your room, expecting you to be fast asleep. He quietly makes his way to your room, taking off his clothes and settling into bed which he immediately realizes is empty and cold. There's no figure of you and no warmth.

His mind is racing with different thoughts -- where could you have gone?

He rubs his eyes and musters up his strength to get off the bed, turn on the light and look around your room.

Empty.

He steps out of the room and that's when his heart almost shatters at the sight of you out like a light on the couch in a position he knows can't be comfortable.

You both have already talked about this before-- no waiting up for him anymore when he comes home late; Izuku made it clear that he doesn't want you missing out on sleep waiting for him when it's never guaranteed he'd come home every night.

He knows you're too good for him.

He knows how your parents feel about him, a future he can't fully dedicate to you, about how your mother always seemed to hate him because of how her daughter was so in love with a man who could never fully give himself; his duty comes first.

He knows, deep down, that he is selfish for wanting you, for wanting a life with you. He already has the one thing he's always wanted all his life-- to protect people, to be a symbol of peace-- but he never realized how much he wanted you.

He never realized how badly he needed something to believe in, and you gave him a love to believe in.

Loving him didn't come easy, not for you. But it felt right.

He walks up to the side of the couch and leans down as he softly calls your name, stirring you awake with his hand that softly touches your face.

"Hey."

Your eyes flutter open and squint at his sight, lidded with sleep.

"Izuku?" You sit up slowly, making space for him to sit beside you. "Did you just come back?"

He sits beside you and just like a puzzle, you fit yourself in his arms and close your eyes, engulfed in his warmth and scent.

He nods and hums in contentment.

"I'm sorry i'm late," he mutters lowly into your head on his shoulders. "I told you not to stay up waiting for me anymore, you still have class early tomorrow with that monster of a professor." He chuckles and it feels like nothing else matters.

And in this moment, his future flashes in his eyes, one that feels too natural he doesn't catch himself thinking of your firstborn running around the house, his hands tangled with yours as you both lay on the patio, your little one held close, and next thing he knows, you're both out like a light, in your couch, on a late weeknight.

#mha #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #my hero academia #fluff #i got the feels while writing this #woah #i want this so much

[alwaysonthemend]

Falling, fallen | JTK

Author's Note: Hey guys! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted. I have a full time job and I’m in school so sometimes I get a little behind. I hope the length of this one makes up for the wait. The next thing I post will be the next chapter of Light My Love. Thank you to all of you who have reached out about that fic and I’m so sorry it's taking so long. As usual, this is unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.

Summary: You’re the best damn manager that Greta Van Fleet has ever had. You’re always on top of things, you never miss a beat, and shows run smoother than they ever have before. In fact, everything would be perfect if one of the band members hadn't decided to hate you for no reason. Jacob Kiszka despises you. And no matter how hard you try to be nice to him, he’s always just dismissive and rude. After countless little instances of Jake being an asshole to you, you decide that it might be time for a career change. Little do you know, your choice might lead to some unforeseen consequences. 

Content Warnings: Arguing, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving) oral (f. receiving) 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 10573

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

Being Greta Van Fleet’s manager is both the worst job you’d ever had and the best one. On the one hand, the boys are the most chaotic and hard to manage group of people you’d ever met. They were perpetually late to everything – becoming so frequent it was almost as if they were trying to not be on time. They rarely listen when someone else tries to tell them anything, preferring instead to always do things their way (no matter how many times it backfires on them). And each member was so incredibly particular about how they liked things – and were similar to frustrated little kids when things don’t work out. To put it simply: they’re exhausting. 

But at the same time, they were all some of the kindest people you’ve ever met. They took you in; Josh immediately doing his damn best to make you feel included, Danny always there to give you comforting words of encouragement, and Sammy always making you laugh when you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed. They’re practically saints; and despite being so hard-headed, they do their best to not make your job more difficult than it already is. Just last week Josh had comforted you for almost an hour after you had accidentally overbooked a weekend of interviewers, scheduling two within the same time slot. He’d reminded you that being human meant making mistakes and that it’s totally okay to make them. And he’d also made sure to mention that you’re damn good at your job and one little mistake didn’t change that. You’d been able to fix the overbooking pretty easily and you both had laughed at your panic after the fact. 

In fact, every single person you’d interact with that is a part of the Greta Van Fleet team treats you like you’re family – well, everyone except one. Jake. Jacob Kiszka had avoided you like the plague after your very first meeting. He’d walked into the conference room clad in a black shirt unbuttoned down to his stomach and a pair of white slacks with silver necklaces falling to rest on his tanned chest.. Dark sunglasses were covering his eyes (despite not needing them inside). He’d walked in with an air of complete and utter control, and you’d immediately bristled as he took a seat. After the introductions had been made and all the paperwork and business discussed, you’d approached him to try and introduce yourself personally. You’d managed to meet all of the other members right off the bat and you wanted to extend the same to him – despite how uncomfortable he made you feel. 

“Hi!” You’d stuck your hand out to him. “I’m y/n. I’m really looking forward to working with you!” You had plastered your most welcoming smile you could muster as you waited for his response. He looked you up and down before taking your hand in his. His fingers had been warm and you could feel the callouses on them as he shook your hand. 

“I know. They introduced you earlier. And you know who I am.” His words held no malice in them, nor anger or frustration. The only emotion he’d met you with was the absence of any at all. Indifference, complete and utter indifference. He dropped your hand and left the room without another word, and without so much as a glance back in your direction. You’d just stood there, jaw hanging open as you watched his retreating form. 

“Sorry about him.” Josh had said, coming to stand beside you. “He isn’t the best at meeting new people or small talk.” 

“No kidding.” You huffed, eyes still trained on the door he’d just left. 

“Give him time.” Josh squeezed your shoulder and gave you a smile. “He’ll come around.”

But he hadn’t. In fact, it seemed that Jake’s dislike for you only intensified as time went on – despite your best efforts to become at least slightly friendly with him. It seemed like the closer you got with the other bandmates, the colder he grew towards you. It frustrated you beyond measure. Everyone liked you. You pride yourself on being able to find common ground with just about anyone, and you ‘d be lying if you said that you weren’t damn good at getting people to like you – no matter who they are. But Jake remained untouchable. He was the only one that you knew practically nothing about. 

It didn’t take long after that first meeting for you to become very close with Josh. It was almost unbelievable to you that they’re twins. They’re so completely unalike. Sure, their mannerisms were strikingly similar and their facial expressions were one and the same – but beyond appearances, their personalities were like night and day. 

“Josh?” You had asked, about a month into working with them. 

“What’s up, y/n?” He’d replied cheerfully, glancing up from his notebook to look at you. 

“Why does Jake hate me?” You asked, dramatically falling into the chair across from him. “No matter what I do, he won’t give me anything. Not even his damn facial expression will change. I don’t get it.” You closed your eyes and laid your head back in defeat. 

Josh chuckled at your theatrics. 

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…” He trailed off, lightly tapping his chin with his forefinger. “I actually have no fucking clue.”

You groaned and rose from your place across from him and took a seat on the arm of Josh’s chair. 

“I hate it. Everyone likes me.”

“Look, y/n. Jake is just… Jake. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

You paused for a minute, watching as Josh absentmindedly doodled. 

“I’m gonna make him like me if it’s the last thing I do.” You declared suddenly, filled with a new sense of determination. 

“Oh, God. Here we go.” Josh sighed, placing his pencil down. “Why can’t you just let it go?” 

“Because everyone likes me. And I’ll be damned if I let Jacob Kiszka be the one to ruin my track record.” 

Josh just shook his head at you. 

Step one of your plan was to go out of your way to be nice to Jake, even when he would inevitably try to dismiss you. You’d seen him interact with his brothers and Danny and so you knew that he could be sweet. You just had to figure out why he wouldn’t act like that around you. 

Your first opportunity arose one morning about a week after your conversation with Josh. You had awoken early – far earlier than you alarm, and so you had some time to yourself before you had to start rounding up the boys from their separate hotel rooms. You’d gone down to the lobby to treat yourself to a quiet breakfast, away from the craziness that promised to fill the rest of your day. The boys had a show tonight and you had to deal with hotel checkout since they were flying out that very same night to a different city. You entered the breakfast area to see Jake sitting alone in the far corner, nursing a cup of coffee. He glanced up at you as you entered and you waved happily at him before making your way over to his table. 

“Morning, Jake!” You said as cheerily. “Do you mind if I sit here with you?” 

He glanced at you over his sunglasses, assessing your smiling face as you waited for his response. 

“If you’d like.” He said simply, looking back down at his phone. You frowned at his lack of interest but brushed it off and took a seat. 

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, giving him the most genuine smile you could. 

“Yes.” He answered, short and curt. You waited for him to say more – he didn’t. 

“Are you excited for the show tonight? I know I am.”

He sighed and looked up from his phone again at you. He looked annoyed, but you tried to not let your disappointed show on your face at his clear disinterest in talking to you.

“Mm hm.” 

The table fell into awkward silence. You couldn’t think of anything else to add. As you sat there, racking your brains for something else to say to try and get a conversation going, Jake rose from his seat abruptly. 

“I’m going back to my room.”

“Oh!” You said, taken aback. “Okay. I’ll see later!” But he was already walking away, again refusing to spare you even a passing glance backwards.

“Fuck.” You said to yourself, grimacing. That hadn’t worked at all. 

You kept trying as the weeks went by, trying everything you could think of to get him to stop acting like he hated you. You tried bringing him coffee to his hotel room, ordering his favorite foods for meetings, you’d tried asking him about his guitar, or what his favorite city to visit was. You had tried everything and were quickly running out of ideas. Everything you did was met with stony indifference and clipped responses. 

Things didn’t start to escalate until after you approached him after a show one night to congratulate him on a wonderful performance. 

“You did awesome out there, Jake! Like always!” You said as he walked into the greenroom, sweaty and chest heaving with the exertion of the night. Your eyes couldn’t help but to stare as a drop of sweat rolled down his throat and dripped down onto his chest. 

“Thanks.” He started to walk away but you called out to him. 

“Wait!” 

He turned to you sharply at your raised voice. You hadn’t meant to call out that loudly but you weren’t backing down now. 

“Why are you such an asshole to me?” You asked, sudden confidence flowing through you. You watched as his nostrils flared and he opened his mouth to say something before suddenly closing it again. He took a deep breath. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n.” He said, voice calm and cold. 

“Bull shit.”

“Goodnight, y/n.” He said, turning his back to you and walking away. You stood there for a long moment, rage flowing through you.

“So,” Josh said loudly, startling you from your anger fueled reverie. “Operation Make Jake Not Hate You doesn’t seem to be going very well, huh?” He looked smug. He too was sweaty from the show and you could feel the warmth of him radiating from his skin in waves. 

“Oh shut the fuck up, Joshua. I fucking give up.” You threw your hands up angrily in defeat. “If he’s so determined to hate me so much for no fucking reason, fine! I hate him too!” 

And with that, you stormed off, blood pressure only rising more as you heard Josh laughing loudly at you as you stomped away. 

True to your word, Operation Make Jake Like You turned into you just trying to ignore him back. You still managed to maintain professionalism, managing his needs and making sure things were done correctly for him – but other than that, you tried to remain friendly with him without pushing for anything more. Instead, you took to hanging out with the other guys in between shows and during the day. And you started spending more and more time with Josh. The two of you had a lot in common, sharing many of the same favorite songs and artists and you both loved to laugh. Josh was so easy to be around and he quickly became your closest friend amongst the boys. You spent lots of time together when your schedules allowed for it, and your little obsession with Jake finally stopped consuming your every thought. He still gave you a cold shoulder, but you tried to stop letting it bother you. It still stung, everytime he dismissed you, but you grew used to it.

Life moved on and your job quickly became a whole lot smoother than it had been at the start. You knew the ins and outs of handling the boys and it took a lot to throw you off now. Things were running smoothly and efficiently – better than they ever had before with other management. Danny had told you as such one night, as you all had been relaxing at a small little downtown bar. You all had a free night and everyone wanted to take advantage of it. 

“I’ve gotta say y/n, I think you’re the best manager we’ve ever had.” Danny said, catching the attention of everyone else. 

“I absolutely, wholeheartedly agree, Danny.” Josh said, giving you a grin. 

“A toast?” Sammy asked, raising his glass to the middle of the table.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Josh confirmed as he and Danny raised their glasses as well. 

“To the best damn manager we’ve ever had!” Josh yelled and the three of them clinked their glasses with yours. 

You laughed and blushed, touched by their kindness. 

“Isn’t that right, Jake?” Josh asked, turning towards his twin who had remained completely silent. 

“Oh yes. The best.” He said, his usual indifference melting away into plain bitchiness. 

Danny, Sam, and Josh stared at him, all taken aback by the sarcasm dripping from his words. 

“You know, if you have such a problem with me, why don’t you just come out and say it to my face, Jacob.” You said darkly, venom lacing your own words. 

“Hey, look guys. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up, Sam.” Jake said, slamming his glass down. “Maybe I do have a fucking problem with you.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s the fucking problem, then?” You spat, rising from your seat to glare at him. 

“Y/n…” Josh hedged, sensing the impending blow out that had been months in the making. 

“Tell me what the problem is, Jake? I have been nothing but nice to you since the day we met. What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so much?”

Jake rose from his seat too, slamming his palms down on the table. Your raised voices were drawing looks from everyone else at the bar.

“My problem, y/n,” He said, and he spat your name out like it tasted terrible, “is that you’re fucking annoying. You won’t leave me the fuck alone. I’m so sorry that I don’t fall for your obnoxious need to always try and be fucking sunshine and rainbows all the god damned time. You can’t stand that I just don’t like you.” He said the last part slowly and cruelly, eyes blazing from across the table. 

“And I’m sorry that you’re so fucking miserable that you can’t stand it when the people around you aren’t!” You shouted, and Danny rose from his seat to put a placating hand on your shoulder. You jerked out of his grip angrily. “You are such a dick, Jake! All I’ve ever tried to be with you is nice. But you dismiss me like I’m a child! I’m sick of it!”

“Alright, enough!” Josh shouted, rising from his own seat. “Both of you, that’s enough!” 

Embarrassment over your outburst flooded you suddenly, making your cheeks grow warm. Jake seemed to also have the decency to at least look embarrassed himself. 

“I’m going to my room.” Jake said, voice cold and very clearly still angry. “Don’t fucking wait up.” And with that, he stormed away. 

You collapsed back into your seat and put your head in your hands, a headache slowly beginning to form behind your eyes. 

“Hey,” Danny said, placing his hand back on your shoulder, “just ignore him, y/n. He’s not worth it.”

“I just don’t get what I did to make him hate me!” You cried, hating the way your eyes were filling with tears. 

“You didn’t do anything. He’s just Jake.” Josh said softly, before taking a sip of his drink to calm his nerves. He hated seeing the two of you fight: his twin and his best friend. He hated it so much. 

“He’s just an asshole, nothing else to it. He likes being grumpy. I honestly think he gets off on it sometimes.” Sam said, and his statement made you laugh quietly despite yourself. 

“Thanks, guys.” You said, taking a large gulp of your bourbon. 

The conversation moved on and you allowed yourself to forget your argument with Jake, doing your very best to shove your hurt down into the deepest recesses of your brain. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night any more than he already had. 

Once you all had finished eating and goodbyes were said, you slowly trudged your way to your hotel room, wishing suddenly that you were back home in your own bed. You loved traveling all around with them, but the night's events were making you yearn to be home. You got ready for bed as quickly as you could, hoping to try and get some good sleep since the boys would be performing tomorrow – show days are always exhaustingly chaotic. 

But no matter how long you lay there, sleep continued to evade you. Your thoughts were swirling with Jake’s words, and you couldn’t get his angry face out of your head. Him calling you annoying had hurt – more than you would ever admit out loud. Normally, you’d usually be able to ignore someone else’s jabs at you; but for some reason, Jake’s dislike of you made your chest ache. Well… you knew why it bothered you so much – and you hated yourself for it. 

Despite the months of clipped words and cold glares, you’d unfortunately found yourself with a crush. More than a crush, if you were being completely honest with yourself. He was attractive of course, but you had also watched him interact with everyone else enough to see that he was actually a really nice guy. He was sweet and thoughtful, always going out of his way to make sure others felt comfortable. He was always humble, no matter how many sold out arenas he played in – and he would still blush when fans came up to him in public. You had fallen for the version of Jake that he never let you get to experience. And that’s what hurt you the most: the fact that he wasn’t really an asshole – he just truly didn’t like you. You were embarrassed for not realizing it sooner. All these months you had spent trying to get to know him and talk to him, you’d just been making yourself look like a fool. An annoying fool, apparently. You vowed to yourself, laying there that night, that you’d do your very best to stay out of his way. No more attempts at conversations, no more smiles or waves when he entered the room. Hell, you’d even try to start sitting out the aftershow outings with the boys. You’d continue being the best damn manager they’d had, but you’d keep your distance. 

The following day was filled with rushing around as you made sure everything was ready for the show. You were at the arena all day, checking with sound and the tech people, so it had been easy to keep your distance. By the time the show started, you were exhausted but proud with how smoothly things had gone. You watched them play from off the side of the stage, tucked into the shadows. Josh’s vocals were incredible – as always, and he’d sent you several smiles and winks as the show progressed. Sam and Danny were flawless, of course. They were the backbone of the band and they never failed to deliver. Jake was utterly transfixing on stage. It was hard to look away from him as he played, but you did your best to put your focus elsewhere. 

Everything was going great until the third to last song of the set when you noticed Jake frantically gesturing to one of the backstage workers. You squint your eyes to try and see what was wrong. He was gesturing wildly in a manner that’s so reminiscent of Josh that you almost smile. The rest of the boys are sending concerned glances back at him. He’s not playing the guitar. Sam starts a bass solo to try and cover for Jake, but you can tell that they’re growing more concerned. Finally, another tech person runs over to the back corner of the stage where Jake is with another one of his guitars in hand, He quickly swaps it out before running back to his place on stage. Sam finishes his solo – met with thousands of screams from the audience, and you think that it’s safe to assume that few of them noticed whatever just happened. The tech guy walks past you swiftly and you see the cause of Jake’s anger: a string had snapped on his number one guitar – on stage no less. You turned your eyes back to Jake to see him playing again, and this time you could see the anger oozing from him. His playing had turned downright nasty as he vented his frustration out through his music. You looked away, unable to watch his sinful movements. 

The rest of the show went great, and they closed it out to the screams of their fans as they walked off stage to go change. There was no doubt in your mind that they’d be going to a bar – Jake would probably insist. You went about finishing up all you had to for the night, and you made sure to go and find the worker who had brought Jake his other guitar so you could thank him for his swiftness. He’d given you a huge smile, shocked that you’d sought him out. 

“Hey, y/n!” You heard Danny call, just as you were beginning to gather up your things to leave. He had changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and a sleeveless band tee. “We're gonna go out for drinks. Coming with?”

You shook your head and gave him a sad smile. 

“Not tonight, Danny. I’m going to head back to my room.”

“Why? You always come with us.” He gave you a pout, and you wanted so badly to cave and go with them. But no. You’d made a promise to yourself. 

“Jake had a bad night tonight, Danny. I could practically see how mad he was up there. He deserves to go unwind. Me being there isn’t going to help that.” 

Danny sighed. 

“Y/n… come on.” 

“It’s true!” You insisted, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “He hates me. He thinks I’m annoying. And I have been annoying. I’ve been trying to force him to like me without thinking about how it must have been making him feel.  My job is to make your lives easy, not to make them more difficult.”

“I really don’t think you make his life more difficult, y/n. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Danny said, and the sympathy in his voice made you want to cry. You could feel your eyes welling with tears for the second night in a row. 

“Thank you, Danny. But I’ve made my decision… And I think it’s the right one.” You sniffed and swiped a hand under your eyes in an attempt to hide your tears from him. “You guys have fun.” 

You walked away quickly, leaving Danny to watch you go with sad eyes. 

The next few shows went about the same (though thankfully without any guitar mishaps for Jake). The boys would go out to celebrate, and you would politely decline to go with them. You’d asked Danny to keep your earlier conversation to himself, and he’d begrudgingly agreed to do so. 

“You can’t just shut yourself away because you think his opinion about you is the end all be all.” He’d said, eyes once again filled with sorrow for you. 

“It’s okay, Danny. Really. I was becoming too unprofessional with you guys, anyway.”

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it.” 

“Can we please just drop it.” 

And Danny did. The tour continued on, and you slowly distanced yourself from the boys. You kept things running smoothly from afar, and you did your best to stay away – no matter how much you missed them. 

Josh had grown increasingly more concerned for you, begging you to tell him what had changed. You’d just shake your head, telling him that you were just too tired or had work you needed to catch up on. It only took him a month to call your bluff though. 

“This is all about Jake, isn’t it?” 

The two of you were sitting in your hotel room after he’d insisted he follow you up to “catch up.” You’d allowed it, as you’d been missing hanging out with him terribly. 

“What’s about Jake?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as innocent as possible. 

He rolled his eyes. 

“You suddenly avoiding hanging out with all of us. It’s because of what Jake said that night, right?” 

You sighed. There was no way you could lie to him. He knew you too well and you were tired of putting on a brave face. You let your shoulders slump and your face fall. 

“I just wish I knew what I did wrong.” You said quietly, voice wavering as you fought back tears. You were so tired of crying over Jake Kiszka. 

“Hey, hey.” Josh walked quickly over to sit next to you on the bed. “Y/n, come on. Don’t cry.” 

Your face crumpled as the hurt that you’d been hiding for weeks finally bubbled to the surface, spilling over your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry.” You said through your tears, feeling stupid for crying like this to him. He was your best friend, sure. But he was still your boss at the end of the day. This was so unprofessional of you. 

“Don’t apologize, okay?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you buried your face in his chest. He was warm and smelled good, and all you could think about was how much you wished you’d fallen for him instead of Jake. “Why are you letting him get to you so much, sweetheart? Normally, you’d kick someone’s ass for talking to you like he did.” 

You just shook your head, shame filling you as you thought about your stupid feelings. 

“It’s just different with him, Josh. I can’t help it.” You took a steadying breath, trying to get yourself back under control. You sat up from him and ran a hand through your hair. It was silent for a long moment. 

“Oh.” Josh said, a sudden sadness coming over his face. “Damn it, Jake.” He sighed, pinning you with sad, sympathetic eyes. 

“What?” You asked, confusion written clearly across your face. 

“All that time you spent obsessing over trying to get him to open up to you, the way you made it your mission to become his friend… I can’t believe I didn’t realize before.” 

Your heart was pounding with dread. There’s no way he’d just figured it out, right? There’s no way you’d been that obvious. 

“What are you talking about?”

He was looking at you like you were a tragedy. You hated it. 

“You like him, don’t you? Like, as in more than a friend?”

You turned away, face burning with shame. Josh reached out and turned your head back to face him. A fresh wave of tears leaked from your eyes. 

“I can’t help it. I tried to make it stop. But I just can’t help it.” You cried, and a loud sob worked its way through your chest. You were shaking. 

“We can’t help who we fall for.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry, y/n. I don’t know what to tell you.” 

“There’s nothing to say, Josh.” You muttered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’ve been thinking,” you hedged, suddenly afraid to tell him what you’d been planning for after the tour, “after this last leg of the tour, I’ll probably ask my boss to have someone else transferred to you guys to take my place. I don’t think me staying is a good idea.” 

“Y/n, no!” Josh exclaimed, and the sudden rise in volume made you startle slightly. “The rest of us love you! You’re our friend!” he cried, gripping your shoulders tightly. “And you really are the best manager we’ve had. Things have been going so amazing since you joined us!” 

“Josh, I’m sorry but I just can’t do this. Jake’s unhappy, I’m unhappy. It’s best if I leave.” 

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, then?” He asked, voice falling quiet again. 

“I have.”

“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind.” It’s not a question. He knows there isn’t. 

“No. There’s not. I’m sorry.” 

He sighed, and for a moment you’re afraid that he’s angry with you. But then he reaches over and pulls you into a tight hug. 

“I understand, y/n. It’s okay.” 

You could sob at the feeling of relief that washes over you. 

“But you have to stay in contact with the rest of us. You have to.” He said, pulling away from you and pinning you with a serious look. “Promise me.”

You giggled. 

“I promise.”

Time seemed to fly by as the end of the tour drew nearer, and before you knew it, there was only one show left. Emotions were high in the greenroom backstage as they all prepared to go out one last time, and there was a lingering sadness in the air as you had let Danny and Sam know that you wouldn’t be coming back for the next tour. They’d both been crestfallen at your choice, but hadn’t pushed you to give a reason why. Deep down, you were pretty sure that they already knew. 

“Good luck guys. You’re gonna kill it, like always.” 

“Thanks, y/n.” Sam said, wrapping his long arms around you tightly. You gave him a squeeze before letting go. 

“It’s all for you tonight, y/n! Thank you for everything.” Danny said, also coming up to give you a hug. You smiled and buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. 

“Thank you, Danny.” You said quietly as he pulled away. 

Josh came up next. He stared at you for a long moment, a sad smiling gracing his lips. He finally hugged you too. 

“You deserve to be happy.” He whispered in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear. 

“Thank you.” You said, “For everything.” He gave you a grin. 

“Well, boys,” He said, turning to the guys, “We ready?” They all nodded in excitement and you watched them go with a proud smile. Your smile quickly dropped though as you realized that Jake was still standing there. You looked at him, confusion and trepidation clear on your face. 

“Good luck, Jake.” You said quietly, dropping your eyes to look at your feet. You couldn't bear to look at him.

“Y/n,” he said, taking a step towards you. 

“Two minutes!” You heard someone call. You didn’t say anything as you waited for him to finish. 

“Could we… talk? After the show tonight?” He asked, and his voice was the softest you’d ever heard it directed to you. 

“Um. Sure?” 

He nodded his head curtly. 

“Good. Perfect.” He walked towards where the rest of his bandmates had gone, stopping momentarily to look back at you. “Thanks.” 

It felt like your entire nervous system was on fire. Jake’s words had been so unlike him – soft, unsure. You felt like your head was in a washing machine, spinning around in all directions with no end in sight. You knew he probably felt guilty. Despite not liking you, you know that he’s a nice enough person to feel bad for being the reason that you’re leaving – any decent person would. And you know that Jake is far more than just decent. You just wish that things had been different. 

You stayed in the green room, doing your best to distract yourself with your phone. You scrolled through every social media feed you had and still time seemed to drag on. You got up and wandered around aimlessly, cleaning things that weren’t your job to clean and tidying things that weren’t untidy to begin with. You tried humming to yourself and singing songs, but your stomach was in complete knots. By the time the show was finished, you were already exhausted. 

It wasn’t long before Jake entered, and you rose from where you had collapsed onto the sofa. 

“Hi.” You said, taking him in. He was sweaty – his usually soft hair was damp and messy. He’d changed from his stage outfit into a pair of dark jeans and a cream colored button down (with his signature look of only having two buttons actually done up). His silver coin necklaces rested against his tan chest. 

“Hey.” His voice had that softness to it still – completely unlike the Jake that you had come to know. “Can we go somewhere? To talk? Preferably somewhere where the others won’t barge in on us.”

“There’s a work room down the hall that no one’s using. I ate lunch there earlier.” 

He nodded, turning towards the door. You followed swiftly, your purse clutched tightly in your hand. You passed the other guys as you made your way towards the spare room and your cheeks flamed as you and Jake walked by them. You ignored their questioning eyes as they watched you and Jake, no doubt shocked to see the two of you walking together. Your eyes met Josh’s briefly as you left, and your cheeks flamed an even darker shade of crimson as he gave you a knowing smirk. 

You pointed towards the door of the spare room and Jake nodded, walking up to it and pushing it open. Sure enough, it was completely empty. The sign on the door said “Staff Only,” and you had only stumbled across it because you had wanted to eat somewhere where the others couldn’t bother you. You had needed some time to just exist by yourself, and the spacious room had been perfect. 

Now, standing there with Jake, it felt suffocating. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. His presence was overwhelming. You could smell him from where you stood – a blend of his natural musk and a hint of vanilla. You wanted to cry. 

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to talk to me…” Jake finally hedged, breaking the silence that has descended over the two of you. 

You scoffed. 

“Yeah. I’m shocked, honestly.” Your words came out sharp and you winced slightly. You weren’t trying to start another fight with him. But he’d hurt you. Badly. 

“Yeah.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “The guys said that you aren’t coming back for next tour.” 

“I’m not. I don’t really feel all that welcome here anymore.” You bit out, and Jake was the one to wince this time. The anger from that night at the bar was suddenly coming back, and you wanted so badly to slap the shit out of him. “I’m sure you were happy to hear the news.”

Jake looked away. 

“Not really.” 

“You don’t have to lie. I know you fucking hate me.” You huffed and took a seat on the sofa that was shoved into the corner. 

“I don’t hate you.” He sounded defeated, and there was a small, mean little part of you that was delighted to hear that tone from him. Like he was finally feeling how he had made you feel for all that time. 

“Could have fooled me.” 

He sighed again, and suddenly he looked so much older than he had a moment ago. His shoulders were slumped and you almost wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you didn’t. You crossed your arms and stared at him expectantly. 

He seemed to sense that you weren’t going to say anything else. 

“Can I sit?” He gestured at the empty spot next to you. 

“Sure.” 

He took a seat. You could feel the warmth radiating off him. It was silent for a long moment. You, unwilling to say anything else and Jake unable to find the words. 

“Well?” You asked, pinning him with an impatient glare. “I’m here. If there’s actually a point to this conversation please say it so I can leave.” You know you’re being unfair. He’s clearly working up to trying to apologize but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve spent so long letting him make you feel like you’re less than, and for once you finally have the upper hand. 

“I’m sorry.”

That stops your thoughts in their tracks. You’d expected him to beat around the bush, to give an excuse, to say you’re overreacting. A straight up, no nonsense apology had been the last thing you were expecting. 

“What?” You couldn’t help but to ask, incredulity evident in your tone. 

“I’m sorry for being such a dick.” You stare at him – searching for any traces of a lie. You find none. There’s only a sad truthfulness reflected in his brown eyes. “You haven’t done anything to deserve how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse.”

You let his words sit heavy between the two of you for a moment. You’re at a loss. He doesn’t have an excuse, and you have no idea what to say back to him. 

“Thank you.” You finally breathe out, voice quiet and unsure. 

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, voice equally reserved in the odd tension. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that’s the best choice. You’re a good manager. It’ll be hard for us to find a good enough replacement.” He looks down at his hands. He’s fiddling with them, picking at the skin of his thumbs the way he often does when he’s lost in thought. You’d watched him do it on numerous occasions.

“I don’t really know what to say to you, Jake. You really hurt me. I…” You stop yourself, unwilling to let him see how deeply his words and actions had cut you; unwilling to show him how weak he had made you. 

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me anything. But I do want to ask you to stay.” 

Rage fills you suddenly, so sudden and sharp that your vision seems blurry as your blood pressure rises at his words. 

“How fucking dare you.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you think about all that he’s done. “I tried so hard to be nice to you. I wanted your approval so fucking badly. I let you make a fool out of me. How fucking dare you to ask me to stay now?” Your voice got louder and louder as you spoke, and Jake’s eyes widened at your sudden change in demeanor. “Fuck you, Jake Kiskza. That’s all I have to say.” You rose suddenly with the intent to get the hell out of there when he too rose to his feet. 

“That’s not fucking fair, y/n!” He yelled, hands clenched at his sides. “I’m trying to apologize, here. You don’t have to throw it right back in my fucking face!” 

“Hurts doesn’t it. Trying to be nice, only for the person to throw it back in your face?” 

Jake rolls his eyes and scoffs. 

“I’m getting the fuck out of here. Jesus Christ.” You cry, turning back towards the door. 

“Yeah. Go cry to Josh, like you always do.” 

His words feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on you.

“What?” You ask lowly, turning back around to look at him. He’s got his shoulders pushed back, defiance glittering in his eyes. 

“I said, go cry to Josh. Just like you always do.” 

“What in the ever living fuck,” you growl, stepping back towards him so that your chests are flush, “is that supposed to mean.” 

He looks down at you and you can practically see the anger radiating off him. 

“It means that I’m tired of watching you following him around like a kicked puppy. He’s not interested by the way, in case you were wondering.” A smug smirk paints its way across his lips and you want so badly to slap it off him again. 

“What on Earth makes you think I want anything like that with Josh?”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, “I’m not fucking blind. You want him – you’re always hanging out with him, hugging him, touching him. It’s pathetic.” 

“And so what if I do want him?” You ask, blood practically boiling. “Why do you fucking care what I do with someone else?”

“I don’t. I don’t give a flying fuck what you do, y/n!” He shouts. The two of you stare at each other, both of your chests heaving as you practically square the other up. His face is twisted in anger – but there’s something else there, hidden in his eyes. It’s not anger. 

Holy shit. 

“Are you fucking jealous?” Your voice is high and shaky, and you watch as his eyebrows shoot to his hairline at your question. 

“Are you insane? I’m not jealous. Jesus, what the fuck?” 

There’s a defensiveness in his tone now, and he’s suddenly looking anywhere on your face but your eyes. 

“You are. You’re jealous. Jealous because you think I want Josh.” You don’t pose it a question because you know. You can see it all over his face. He’s been jealous this whole time. Sure, maybe your first meeting had just been a result of his poor small talk skills… but everything else? Pure jealousy. 

“Fuck you.” He spits, but he knows he’s been caught. 

“You are a fucking idiot, Jake. Holy shit. I don’t want Josh, dumbass! I wanted you!”

His jaw drops and he stares. There’s a part of you that’s embarrassed for admitting it out loud, but the panic that flashes across his face is worth it. 

“What?”

“You heard me. I never wanted Josh, Jacob. I wanted you. But you were so much of a dick that I gave up.”

“Wanted?” His voice is suddenly small, empty of the anger that had filled it just moments before. 

“I don’t know.” You answer, and it’s the truth. After everything, you’re not sure the two of you could ever form a normal friendship – let alone anything more. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out, before sitting heavily back down on the sofa. You sit back down next to him, the fight drained from you at your confession. Neither of you know what to say. 

“I thought you and Josh slept with each other… or were going to. This whole time.” 

You don’t say anything. There’s nothing left to say, really. 

“I wish you had just asked. Instead of assuming.”

“Me too.” He turns to you, and his eyes look so sad it makes your chest ache. You don’t want to look at him when he looks like that. 

“Would you still?” 

You look at him confused. 

“Want me?” He clarifies. “If things were different.” 

You take a moment to answer. At this point, there’s nothing left to lose. 

“I think I’ll always want you, Jake. No matter how much I try not to.” 

“Can we…” He stops, takes a breath. You can practically see the gears turning as he tries to work out what to say. "Can we try?" 

You stare at him, afraid you're reading into his words wrong. 

"Try what?"

"Try again?" His words are small, quiet. He's not looking at you anymore and you suddenly wish you hadn't been so angry with him. "We can go slow. Like we're starting over." 

You ponder his words for a long moment. There's so many thoughts running through your mind and you can barely grab hold of any of them. 

“I don’t know, Jake. You really hurt me.” 

He hung his head, his dark hair framing his face. Even now, you can’t help but to admire him. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He says, before finally bringing his eyes to yours. There are tears there, and your heart aches at the sight. “I was jealous. I really thought you were interested in Josh.” 

“Why didn’t you just ask me? Instead of assuming and then treating me so horribly?”

“Because… because I can’t compete with someone like Josh, anyway. Didn’t think there was a point.” He shifts where he’s seated next to you and turns his eyes down to the floor. You don’t say anything, afraid to scare him back behind his walls. “We may be twins, but he’s got all the charm.” 

“Jake,” you say quietly, “look at me.” 

He does, slowly turning his brown eyes to you. 

“This isn’t a competition. I only ever wanted you.” You tell him, and he can see that there’s no lie in your words. “And even if it was a competition, I still would have chosen you, Jake.”

“So I’m just a fucking idiot, then.” He says, and this time the anger in his voice is directed at himself. 

You giggle. 

“A little bit, ya. But I still want you, Jake. Despite trying so hard not to.” 

“Let me show you I can be different. Please. Let me make it up to you.” He pleads, but you already know that you’d have let him do anything he wanted. Despite everything, you’d still fallen for him. And now here you are, with the chance to finally have him after months of thinking it was impossible. 

“Okay.” You breathe out. “Okay, Jake.”

Faster than you can blink, his lips are on yours – soft and warm. You gasp, and Jake takes the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. His hands grip your shoulders tightly – like if he lets go you’ll run away. You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks as you kiss him back. The kiss is desperate, needy. All those months of want finally spilling over into this moment. You whimper quietly into his mouth and he pulls away. His eyes are blown wide with need and there’s an almost feral look to his face – his eyes are practically devouring you. 

“I’m not making love to you for the first time on a shitty break room couch.” He says breathlessly and you quirk your eyebrow at his choice of words. He flushes but you let it slide, instead rising to your feet. 

“Hotel?” You extend your hand to him and he laces his fingers with yours, allowing you to pull him to his feet. 

“Yep. Yeah. Just quickly.” He shifts on his feet and you laugh as you realize that he’s painfully hard and trying to figure out how to walk normally. 

Hands still clasped together, the two of you practically sprint towards the back exit of the venue. It’s mostly empty now, with everyone else having cleared out as soon as possible after the show ended. The two of you make it all the way to the back foyer without anyone seeing you. 

But in your haste to get out, you almost don’t see Sam and Danny standing there gawking as they watch you drag Jake towards the door. 

You stop short upon seeing them, causing Jake to bump into you from behind. You both look like deer caught in headlights or like little kids who have just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Um.” You say eloquently and Jake snickers from behind you. 

“Alright, you boys ready to g-” Josh turns a corner, and stops in his tracks too. You watch as his eyes sweep from yours and Jake’s flushed faces to your hands that are still interlocked. 

“Howdy, guys,” Jake finally pipes up from behind you. “Fancy seeing you all here.” 

They all nod to the two of you, and each of their faces are filled with complete shock. You’re so embarrassed you wish the floor would swallow you whole. 

“We’re um… heading out.” Jake says and you want to facepalm at his lack of imagination in coming up with some sort of excuse. 

“And I’m sure it’s totally not what it looks like, right?” Josh asks with a shit eating grin and a raised eyebrow. 

“What exactly does it look like, Joshua?” Jake snaps, eyes blazing at his twin. 

“Oh nothing.” He shrugs, lifting his hands up in defense. “Right?” He turns to look at Danny and Sam who are still standing there with their mouths open. 

It’s Danny that manages to fix his face first. 

“Oh, yeah. Doesn’t look like anything to me.” He says with a smile, and you can practically see the teasing that he’s going to give you after this.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like you’re going to have sex at all.” Sam says, the little brother shittiness finally coming out. 

“Oh fuck off, all of you. We’re leaving.” You start to walk again, yanking Jake’s hand so he follows you. 

“You guys have fun not fucking each other!” Josh calls as you and Jake step out onto the street. Jake just shoots him the bird the two of you take off, giggling like kids. 

The hotel you’re staying at isn’t far, just over a block away from the venue. But it feels like it takes ten years for you to make it to the lobby, and Jake doesn’t once let go of your hand. 

The walk to the elevator is silent, and your mind is working a mile a minute. Your heart is racing and you feel like you’re in a dream. Out of the corner of your eye, Jake stares resolutely ahead, watching as the little screen above the elevator doors counts each floor. 

Finally, they open on your floor and you pull Jake towards your room. 

“Hold on… key card.” You say, extracting your hand from Jake’s to reach into your purse. You swipe the key card and open the door, hesitating only a moment before stepping over the threshold. The reality of what you came here for sets in suddenly, and you stand frozen in the middle of the room as you watch Jake shut the door behind him. 

“You okay?” He asks, walking towards where you’re standing, stopping just close enough that if you wanted, you could reach out and touch him.

“I don’t know.” Your admission is quiet, spoken to the floor and not really to him. You don’t know how to feel. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, his own voice soft. “We don’t… we don’t have to do anything, y/n. I wasn’t expecting,” he waves his hands between the two of you vaguely, “this. Like at all.” 

“Me neither. I don’t- I don’t know how to feel, Jake.” 

He sighs and wrings his hands together. You stare at them, remembering that you now know what they feel like in your hand. Calloused, rough – but still gentle somehow. 

“I’ve really fucked things up, haven’t I?” Jake asks. You don’t answer. 

“I never meant for things to get as far as they did.” He continues, walking over to sit heavily onto your bed. “I was jealous and I acted like an asshole to you.” 

“Yeah, you did. But I was annoying, too. I should have just left you alone.” You say softly. “I shouldn’t have tried so hard.” 

Jake shakes his head at you slowly, his soft hair – finally dry, swishes across his shoulders. 

“You weren’t annoying. You were just being nice. You have nothing to apologize for. Come sit?”

You comply, sitting down next to him – making sure to leave some space between the two of you. 

“You know, I heard you talking to Danny that night after my guitar string snapped.” 

You turn to him sharply, brain racing trying to remember if you had said anything embarrassing. 

“You stayed in that night because I’d had a bad night and you thought you would make it worse…” 

You nod. 

“You were so angry. I didn’t want to cause another fight.” 

“I did get angrier, though. I was angry at myself for making you think that I hated you. But I didn’t know how to fix it.” He looks away and you take the opportunity to watch him. There was only one lamp on, and it cast shadows across his jaw. “Let me fix it. Please.”

You sit there for a long moment and just think. You let yourself feel the hurt and the anger. You think about every rude word or dismissive glare. You think about that night at the bar when you screamed at each other. You think of earlier in that break room. You think about all of it before finally turning to him. 

“There’s nothing to fix, Jake. I forgive you.”

His eyes widen comically at you and his jaw drops open. 

“What?” 

“I forgive you.” You say simply, shrugging your shoulders. “I fell for you a long time ago, Jake. And those feelings aren’t going to go away – believe me, I’ve tried.” 

He huffs a laugh. 

“But I’m tired of this animosity between us.” You continue, pinning his gaze under your own. “I just want to be with you. No more arguing, no trying to make up for what’s already happened. Let’s just… be.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He admits, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“Yes, you do. So let’s let it go.”

“Okay.” 

You squeeze his hand in yours. He squeezes back. 

“Now would you please kiss me already.” 

Finally, a real smile spreads across Jake’s lips and his eyes sparkle at you. 

“Of course.” 

His lips crash into yours for the second time and it’s even better than the first. There’s no uncertainty now. It’s just you and him. You lean back, grasping his shoulders to follow you down. He pulls away slightly as your weight settles and he smiles. 

“Eager?”

You don’t glorify his question with a response – instead sealing your lips over his again. He groans into your mouth as you hook your legs around his waist, bringing your core flush against his hardening cock. 

Jake sits up and you scoot further into the middle of the bed, sitting up for a moment to rid yourself of your shirt. Jake does the same, unbuttoning his top with shaky fingers and tossing it to the floor. He taps your hips, signaling for you to lift them up. He slides your pants off you and you kick them off. Jake follows suit, leaving the two of you in nothing but your undergarments. 

Jake looks down at you and you watch as his eyes rake over your form, pupils blown wide. 

“Look at you.” He whispers and your core pulses at the sound of his voice – husky and low, laced with desire. 

He’s a sight to behold all on his own and you allow yourself to stare – taking in every bit of skin that you’re finally getting to see. 

“Look at you.” You say and he smiles down at you, eyes growing softer for a moment. 

“Don’t do that.” You whisper, grasping his shoulders to pull him down to you. His face is inches above your own and you can feel his heavy breaths against your face. “Don’t feel guilty. Just be here. With me.” 

He nods and attaches his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your throat. He sucks and licks as he goes, causing the wetness in your panties to grow even more. You slide your palms up his strong back, feeling the muscles ripple underneath your fingertips. His cock is hard where you can feel it against you, and you press your hips up into him slowly. He moans loudly against the hollow of your throat. 

“Fuck, y/n.” 

He reaches beneath you and unhooks your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out for him to admire. He bites your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth and you whine, lacing your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

“Jake.” You moan, rolling your hips up to meet his – desperate for any bit of friction. Jake senses your need and dips his fingers into your panties and slides his finger between your folds, relishing in the wetness that’s gathered there. 

“So wet for me, pretty girl.” He says, before bringing his finger to his lips to suck your juices off his fingers. “Tastes so fucking sweet.” 

“Stop teasing me, Jake.” You whine, pawing at his cock where it tents his boxers. You slip your fingers beneath the waistband and pull them down and Jake lifts his hips so you can slide them all the way off. Jake yanks your panties down as well and you hiss as the cold air of the hotel room hits your hot center. Your pussy throbs and you press your thighs together. 

“Don’t.” Jake says, and he presses your knees back apart. He gives you one last devilish grin before diving into your folds, lapping at the wetness and circling your clit with his tongue. 

“Oh fuck!” You cry as you throw your head back in pleasure. He swirls your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue before attaching his lips to suckle at it mercilessly. You moan loudly, and you’d probably feel sorry for whoever was in the room next to yours if you weren’t so focused on the intense pleasure coursing through your body. 

“You taste so good, angel. Can’t believe I let my own jealousy keep me from tasting you sooner.” 

You whine as he pushes one finger inside of you, curling it inside of you in the most delicious way. The coil in your belly begins to tighten, and you know it won’t be long before it snaps. 

“Fuck, right there. Jesus.” You moan as he adds another finger and Jake chuckles. The vibration against your clit makes you jump, so he presses his forearm across your hips – effectively keeping you in place. “Jake I’m gonna cum.” You warn and he only picks up the pace of his fingers, fucking into you relentlessly as he continues lapping at your clit. 

“Give it to me, sweet girl.” He says against your core and that’s all it takes. Your orgasm rips through you and you whine his name as he laps up your release. He pulls his fingers from you and licks them, groaning as he tastes you. 

“Fuck, y/n. You look divine, all spread out for me like this.” 

“Only for you.” You say, still trying to get your breathing under control. You sit up and stare at him. His cock is rock hard and weeping, standing at full attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. 

“Lemme taste you, Jake.” You say as you reach your hand towards his length. He grabs your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“As much as I’d love for you to, I’m not gonna last if you do that. Next time.” He promises, releasing your wrist. “But tonight I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” He glances around suddenly, eyes searching for something. 

“What?” You ask, rising to lean on your elbows. 

“You don’t happen to have any condoms around here, do you?” 

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.” 

He pins you with a heated stare. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Very. Want you to fill me up, Jake.” 

He groans at your words and brings his hand up to pump his cock. His chest is flushed and sweat is gathering at his temples. 

“Fucking hell. Okay.” 

You spread your legs and Jake glides the head of his cock through your folds, gathering the wetness before slowly sliding into you. You both moan at the feeling of him sinking into your pussy. He bottoms out and pauses, giving you time to adjust to the stretch of him.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight." He growls, brows pinched together as he tries to hold back from moving. 

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me. Move.” You whine, pushing your hips into his. He complies, pulling out of you almost completely before slamming back into you. He sets a hard pace – the force of each thrust pushing you upwards, making your tits bounce as he rails into you. His eyes are transfixed on them as they bounce up and down, and you rake your nails down his back. You wrap your legs around him and press your heels into his ass, drawing him in closer. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans.

“God, Jake. Right there.” You cry, clenching your eyes closed. “Harder! Fuck!” 

Jake grabs your calf tightly with his right hand, throwing it over his shoulder. He then plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. The new angle allows him to hit even deeper, the tip of his cock hitting that special place inside of you with each thrust. You wail as he pistons his hips into yours and little breathy moans fall from his plump lips. His eyes screw shut and his hair is damp as he fucks you better than anyone ever has. You clench around him and he groans loudly, sweat dripping down his chest as he opens his eyes to watch your face as the pleasure takes you over. 

“You look so fucking gorgeous, baby.” He says, thrusts growing more desperate as his own release quickly begins to approach. He slides one hand between the two of you, circling your clit in time with his thrusts. 

“Jacob!” You scream, as your second climax washes over you, sending white hot pleasure coursing throughout your entire body. It seems to keep going forever, and your legs shake and your body twitches as he keeps fucking you through it. 

“Fuck, say that again.” He says through clenched teeth, thrusts growing erratic and sloppy. 

“Jacob.” You say, and this time it comes out as a needy whine.

“Fuck, fuck. Shit!” He growls as his mouth drops open. His own orgasm finally arrives and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he paints your walls with his release. He thrusts into you deeply once, twice, three more times before collapsing onto you. 

“Jesus.” You say, closing your eyes as you fight to get your heart rate back down to a reasonable pace. 

“Yeah.” He pulls his cock from you and your pussy clenches at the loss of him. “Hold on.” He reaches down towards the foot of the bed where his boxers lay. He cleans you both up before throwing them down onto the floor. He reaches across to the nightstand and flicks the light off. 

He collapses onto his back and you roll onto your side to face him. The two of you stare at each other in the dark. 

“Do you believe me now when I say all is forgiven?” You ask him, smiling as you take in his fucked out expression. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He says, smiling back at you. “I’m still gonna keep telling you though – I’m so fucking sorry.” 

You reach up and cup his face between your palms, bringing him close to you so you can press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. 

“And I’ll keep telling you that it’s okay.” You say against his plush lips. “I’ll always choose you.” 

He searches your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank you.” 

He pulls you in tight to his chest, and you can feel his steady heartbeat as you nuzzle into his skin. You toss one leg over him, pulling him even tighter against you. 

“Does this mean you’ll come back for the next tour?” He asks, face buried in your hair. 

You giggle.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

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

Taglist:

@sacredthethreadgvf

#dee's writing #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic

[reallyromealone]

I am so sorry for requesting again before you had the chance to write my last request but I had the best idea. So bonten x son reader (platonic ofc) Trying to get a job and he ends up working at draken and inui's bike shop. I'm sorry if your busy. Please drink lots of water and I hope you are in good health ♡

Omg yes

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

"Can I get a job?"

The table went quiet as the Bonten men looked at (name), the teenager glancing at his dad's awkwardly "why?" Mochi asked bluntly "is the allowance not enough?" (Name) shook his head "it's not that, it's just I was told that having a job or an internship would be good for university applications along with volunteering" (name) said pulling out a folder he kept on the floor beside him "please look at these, I did the research on how it could help advance my chances in getting into good universities!" Bonten wasn't shocked that (name) came prepared, they always told him to be overprepared than under after all.

"As you can see, it would be incredibly beneficial for me to possibly have a part time job"

"What about your extra curricular activities and would this affect your grades?" (Name) tried not to perk up at the questions Ran asked seriously, all of the Bonten members in dad mode as they looked over the papers "I already have a plan for that! I would only be working weekends and my club doesn't run on weekends and I would do any homework on breaks and after or before work"

"You really have this planned out..." Mikey mumbled before looking at his son "thoughts?" Mikey asked the others and the rest glanced at one another before each giving a thumbs up, voting yes albeit a bit begrudgingly as they worried about their son.

They found voting systems worked best when it came to (name).

"Then...you can have a job, but the second your grades slip you quit"

"Thank you! I start this Saturday for training!" (Name) said getting up and giving his dad's a hug before running off to his room to no doubt text his friends the news.

(Name) kept to his word, keeping his grades up and come the weekend he started his first day.

"Thank you for hiring me Mr.Draken sir!" (Name) said enthusiastically, excited to start his first job as book keeper for D&D motors "no problem kid, we could use the help... Sadly my associate and I aren't the best with that sort of thing"

"Well I'm glad to be apart of the team!"

Draken enjoyed the teens enthusiasm, the young man reminding him of... Draken didn't want to dwell on that.

He noticed mi--(name) was really good at what he did, fixing their problems "my dad is really good at money management and taught me how to save, he said "you never want to be in a situation where you desperately need money but don't have enough"" (name) said happily as he and Draken ate their food, the teen doing his homework happily.

"That's solid advice"

When (name)s shift ended a black Rolls-Royce parked infront of the shop, none of the Bonten men coming to collect the teen after learning who he's working for as they didn't want (name) to try and be him and... Try and fix the unfixable.

So they had a driver collect him.

"I will see you tomorrow Mr.Draken!"

"Get home safe kid"

"I will sir!"

When (name) got home he was practically vibrating with joy as he made a beeline to the livingroom where his dad's were lounging and doing work "today was great!" (Name) practically yelled, going on a verbal rampage about his day and his dad's watching fondly, glad he enjoyed himself.

"That's good, you do your homework?"

"It's right here!" (Name) confidently handed Mikey his work and the blond hummed as he looked it over "good"

"Now, go shower you smell like motor oil"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #bonten x reader #male reader

[messedupfan]

Chapter 2

Summary: Wanda is putting herself back together bit by bit. Vision doesn't make it easy.

A/n: I'm really enjoying writing this series. I hope all of you enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Wanda arrived home, she was too distracted to entertain her brother further. She tried to get rid of him but he refused to leave until she agreed to let him help her fix the side of her house. “Okay!” she said, exhausted. “You can do the work! Now go, please,” she had begged. He then offered to take the boys for the night and she let him. With the reminder that they had to be back before four the next day to spend the week with their father. 

Wanda hardly slept that night. She drank the beverage you had bought for her as she smoked a couple of cigarettes and worked on the plans for a new room in her house. As she worked she thought about what the space could be used for. The place itself had four bedrooms and her office space on the second floor. The first floor consisted of a living room,  den, laundry/utility room that led to the garage, and kitchen/dining area. Then, there was the basement. Vision had claimed it as his man cave especially after she gave it quite the makeover. He has been out of the house for a while and has yet come to tear it down. Wanda doesn't have the heart to do it herself just yet, but she knows that the boys could use the space. 

As she drew the space with large windows, because the house never felt like enough light was coming through, she realized the space could be the dining room she had wanted. Wanda woke up the next day in her office, to her brother nudging her awake with worry. All she does is show him the blueprints and walks away to clean up and take care of her hangover. 

When Vision arrived to pick up the boys he noticed the tarp covered hole on the side of the house and matched in angrily. “I did not give you the house so you could-”

“No Vis, you did not give me the house. You lost it in the divorce,” Wanda corrected. “This is my house, I can do as I damn well please.”

The boys raced down the stairs before Vision could say anymore. He was many things, but he was not going to curse Wanda out in front of the children. It pained Wanda to come to the realization that the boys know this about their father and feel the need to protect her. That was her job. She was supposed to protect them and herself. “Get in the car boys,” Vision says sharply. 

“Give me a hug,” Wanda says and the boys took turns in holding their mom in a goodbye. “You boys be good for your dad, okay?” They both agreed and reluctantly walked out the door to the car. 

“What were you thinking when you destroyed this house? I was supposed to have people over for the game tonight! Now I have to cancel!” Vision says, frustrated as he stared at the broken wall. 

Wanda shook her head and shrugged, “Should have thought of that before you tore this family apart.”

“You’ve changed,” he observed with a scowl. “I don’t like it.” 

“Good, now go,” she says, waving the direction to the door. “And don’t think your entitled ass can host game night here again. I want you to get your shit from the basement when you bring the boys back home next weekend.” 

Vision laughs and rolls his eyes, pretending that he doesn’t believe that she is being serious. “Or what?”

“I’ll throw it out or give it away,” she states calmly. Her calmness throws him off. Wanda took pride in watching him stumble on his words. “Bye, Vis,” she says as she walks away from the conversation. He slammed the door to make his exit known and Wanda began to shake as she lost all the strength she had for the conversation. Tears rushed out aggressively and she sobbed in fear of what her ex-husband might do since she stood up to him. 

The rest of the week flies by as she is drowning in work and her new side project. She completely forgets about her arrangement with you until she is cleaning her house on Saturday and finds the bottle you bought her along with the pack of cigarettes she hadn't touched since that night. She checked her watch and saw that she would be cutting it close but she could still make it on time. Wanda passes a mirror and sees the mess that she is. Her hair is tangled and unruly. She was in her stained cleaning overalls with an old t-shirt with holes. Part of her thought she should change. But the thought quickly left her as she figures she isn't trying to impress anyone. So she leaves as is. Playing out an argument with you in her head if you have anything to say about it. 

When she arrives, you are leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette. Wanda exits her car, “Alright, let's go inside and pick something for you.” 

You put out the cigarette with a laugh,“Not bad, huh?” You hold the store's door open for her.

She shakes her head as she walks past you, “Not bad at all. Thank you.” Standing close by her, you follow her through the store. Spotting the next drinks you're going to recommend to her if the two of you continue this little game. “Here it is,” she stops suddenly and you crash your chest into her back. 

“Sorry,” you blush. 

“It’s, uh, it's no problem,” she blinks a couple of times before handing the bottle to you so that you can look it over. Just when you had thought you had tried it all, you find the brand to be unrecognizable. “I’m actually surprised to see this here. It's hard to track down unless you know someone. It's from my mothers' country. She used to have family send her a year's supply every Christmas.”

You nod, understanding why you've never seen this before. “It’s good?” You ask. 

“I wouldn't recommend it if it wasn't,” she confirms. And you agree to try it, asking what's the best way to serve it. “A shot or… oh! There's a few cocktails that are really good. I don't know them off the top of my head though,” she taps her lips in thought. “You’re not a creep right?” she asks suddenly. 

You laugh awkwardly, “I would like to believe I'm not but I can't definitively answer that.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I don't know what behavior I exhibit that you would define as creepy,” you explain. 

Wanda nods once as she understands, “Good point.” She plays with her lips in thought and shrugs. She grabs her pen and pocket sized sketchbook from her overalls and writes down her number. “If you start to be a creep, I will block you. Then you can have a definitive answer for the next person who asks.” 

This makes you laugh again, this time it's more genuine. But not because you are mocking her thinking, the conversation just amused you. You take the slip of paper she holds out, “I promise not to be creepy.” 

“Good,” she takes the bottle over to the counter and purchases it. You put her number in your phone as you wait. “Same time next week?” She holds the bag out for you. 

It takes you a second to work out the schedule in your mind. The other day, you agreed to do a favor for your friend. It was free labor on the weekends but he said he and his sister were covering the costs of all materials. He just needed an extra set of hands. Normally you wouldn't have agreed since Saturday is the day you drop off or pick up your daughter. That way the two of you can have fun together on the weekends. Doing this favor, she would have to spend her weekends either with a sitter or onsite, which his friend said he was willing to accommodate for. However, you did owe him a really big favor and he said his sister was going through a rough time. You didn't mind helping, you were just concerned about your daughter's time being compromised. And now Saturdays might include this. “Uh yeah, I might be a little late but it should work out.” 

“You know what,” Wanda waves her hand, “You have my number now. Let me know when.” 

You smile gratefully, “Thank you, I definitely will.” You open the door for her as the two of you leave. “I’ll see you soon,” you wiggle the bottle in the air and get in your car. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Wanda shouts from outside her car. She returns to her house and sighs as she looks at the mess. She gets back to cleaning so that her boys can come back to a nice clean home. 

It has been years since she's had this motivation to keep the house clean. The house wasn't a bad episode of Hoarders but it wasn't the set of some popular family sitcom either. She wanted to be better about keeping the house clean now that it was mostly on her. Of course, she will teach the boys to do some chores when they're a little older. But for now, she feels they deserve the mother they had a few years ago. The kind that kept up with house chores and made dinner instead of getting the takeout everyday of the week. The boys always came back from their fathers talking about Vision and Virginia's cooking. It saddened her. 

Several years ago, her and Vision would cook together. They wanted it to encourage the boys to want to learn how to cook. Vision is Tommy and Billy's hero. Anything their father does, they want to do as well. So, in order to raise good boys, Wanda asked Vision to cook dinner with her as much as possible. He was reluctant at the start but eventually gave in and even found a liking to the craft. They took a few cooking classes for date night for a time. It was one of the few activities that Vision and Wanda hardly fought during. 

As the boys got older, they started to get curious and it led to Wanda and Vision teaching them basic steps in the process. Wanda stands in the kitchen as the rose colored lenses fill her memory of only the cute moments she shared with her family once upon a time. The laughter that filled the room, the fun messes that caused the noise, the delicious meals and treats after. She remembers it all with a broken heart. 

It doesn't include when Vision wasn't paying attention to Billy and the boy reached for the knife his dad set down on the counter, it fell and luckily only the butt of the knife hit the little boy's foot. In shock, he burst into tears and screamed his head off. Wanda watched both her life and his flash before her eyes as she witnessed the incident from across the room. She rushed to his side in fear, making sure he was fine and trying to console him while Vision screamed at the boy. Blaming the entire incident on the curious six-year-old. 

She isn't reminded of the night Vision came clean about his affair. He told her while she was washing the dishes. He was griping on and on about how she was lost and needed professional help. That he was exhausted from carrying the family on his own. That it felt like he lost his daughter and his wife in the same day. That she needed to get over her grief already and take care of the family she did have. Which, to a point, he wasn't wrong. She did need to open her eyes. But that didn't make his cheating right. 

Wanda crumbles by the kitchen island as she thinks about the day they took the first house tour, how he spun her in the kitchen with excitement. She curls into a ball on the floor, praying that a hole comes and swallows her, when her phone buzzes in her pocket with a notification. It's a greeting from you. Then another message, asking for the cocktail recipes. She is shaking as she reads the messages. She can't respond, she isn't in the right mind. Instead, she goes to Vision’s profile to scroll through his recent posts. 

The first one is the back of her boys and his son holding their hands as they walk in the direction of a sunset. His new wife was obsessed with aesthetics almost as much as he is. The next one is an announcement of another pregnancy. Vision’s hand rests on top of Virginia's over her stomach. Wanda drops her phone in tears. He was gone, she couldn’t fight for him back and she had to accept that she lost him. 

After another hour of wallowing in her self pity, Wanda picks herself back up off the floor, takes a couple of shots from the bottle you bought her, and she gets back to cleaning. She reminds herself that she doesn’t need him as she scrubs the counters. She needs her boys. She needs herself. She needs to get out of this self pitying rut about the loss of her marriage. It was clear, she was the only one still affected by this. Vision and her boys have moved on. So should she. 

In the morning, Wanda wakes to a spotless home for the first time since she left the house to deliver her daughter. The feeling is way more refreshing than she ever thought it would be. Around lunch time, as she's preparing a meal for herself, she remembers that she hasn't responded to you yet. She searches for the cocktail recipes that her parents had given her years ago and types them out for you. She would have sent pictures but they were written in her mother's native language. It wasn't a common language in the States like Spanish, French, or German. Options she was given when she was in school. So, she didn't assume that you could speak it. 

After a couple of hours, she receives a thank you message with a picture of one of the cocktails looking a little off to her. A thought of inviting you over crosses her mind until the boys are running through the front door. She greets them both with warm hugs. “Where’s your dad?” she asks. Last night, Wanda had started the tear down of the mancave to make the move for him a little easier.  

But when she looks out the kitchen window with the view of the front house, Vision is driving away with a middle finger in the air. She covers her boys eyes as they try to peer out the window. She closes her own eyes and takes a few breaths to calm the burning rage. “What should we make for dinner?” she asks them and they look at her confused. 

“It’s only the afternoon noon,” Billy points out. 

“It’s too early to start dinner,” Tommy continues. 

“I know,” Wanda laughs and moves hair out of her boy's faces. They need a haircut soon, she makes a mental note. “We need to go shopping for the ingredients.”

“Oh,” they drag out the word in unison as they feel relieved that their mom isn't going insane just yet. They look at each other as they think about the meal their dad says they can't ever make because their step mom is allergic. They make the suggestion and Wanda feeds off of their excitement. She pulls out her phone to find the recipe and grabs a notepad and pen and offers it to either boy. Billy takes it because he claims he has better handwriting. Tommy, insecure about his spelling, doesn't fight his brother on this. 

Wanda says each ingredient and tells him how much to mark down next to them and when the list is ready, they leave for the grocery store. Shopping with the twins goes much smoother than it ever has. They're focused and excited to make the dish. Something she never thought she'd see in ten-year-old boys. It fills her with pride. She remembers seeing cooking as a chore and she hated doing any of it growing up. She's happy that her and Vision found a way to make it something fun and that the boys look forward to it. 

Then, it saddens her that she's deprived them of this for the past two years. She has to shake herself out of it before she lets the negative feelings consume her again and rob her boys of the meal they're so ready to make. 

Back home, the three get all of the ingredients ready and although it's still too early for dinner, they decide not to wait any longer to make the dish. They barely even let it sit before serving themselves. “Thank you for the meal boys,” Wanda kisses each of them on their heads, “I love the both of you so much.”

“We love you too, mom!” Billy says happily. Tommy stays silent and he nudges his brother. 

Tommy makes an ugly face, “Yuck! Love is for sissies!” 

“Hey mister!” Wanda scolds her son. “You will learn one day that love is what makes a person brave. And I don't want to hear you using that kind of language again. Are we clear?” 

“Yes ma'am,” Tommy says into his plate as he plays with the remaining bits of food. 

“Okay, now both of you go get cleaned up. We're going to have a family movie night,” Wanda says as she collects the plates from the table.

Chapter 3

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @evenbeingcrazy1998 @olsensnpm @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @lizziesplant @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #wanda marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x reader #wonderstruck series #messedupfan

[slasherbozo]

Henlo can u pls write könig secretly using his s/o's fragrant shampoo, soap, ye the whole nine yards, while theyre away?

Sweet-scented König gets separation anxiety whenever you’re gone, to fix this he finds comfort in whatever smells just like you.

warning’s ; gender-neutral reader, not much warning tho just reader being in love with a cute spine breaker, kissing a little there and there.

A/N ; it’s a lil short fic, sorry for that but I do hope you enjoy <3 German phrases stolen from our own mighty god google translator <333

masterlist ♡

König using your shampoo and soap is both silly and flattering to you, its obvious that he’s trying to hide the fact that he is using them. But you’re no idiot to his doings, so when you come home one day after being gone for awhile, his scent hits you. And you realize he identically smells just like you, at first you said nothing, since of course he was your lovely partner and you didn’t mind that your partner uses your own hygiene products from time to time. It also meant the scent was to his liking, and that was even better.

But once your shampoo and soap just began to basically run out, and his stay the same you realized you had to say something about it or else you’ll have to continue buying more and more, and these products aren’t this cheap to begin with. 

You cornered the man once you caught glimpses of him, the man seemingly sensing your reason of approach, cowered away and you sweetly called out his name.

“ Ko. ”

He looked at you, his eyes locking with yours for few seconds before looking away, he spoke with a stutter. And you hardly could contain an amused smile, he was too darn adorable for you, you almost forgot the reasoning of approach. 

“ Ja, mein Liebling? ”

// “ yes, my darling? ” //

You stepped forward, further intruding any personal space this man has, and used your nose to smell the waft of scent adoring the skin of his exposed neck. He smelled absolutely delicious, you preferred the scent on him than on you any day, the ambrosial taste of a man who’s appearance begs to differ. 

At the top floats a note of honeyed sweetness, spread among low irresistible nuanced notes a smell that tickled your brain just right when you were at the store picking and choosing. 

“ what- what do you think you’re doing ? ”

The man asked bringing you back to reality, your lips quickly quiver into a slay smirk.

“ You smell.. wonderful I wonder what soap you’ve been using lately.. ”

The comment seemingly catches him off guard, and you chuckle at his reaction when his eyebrows furrowed in response. You bring a hand close to his cheek, your thumb moving in an up and down motion against it. You try your best not to kiss that frown off his face, but first you ease his worried expression.

“ it’s alright I don’t mind you using my shampoo and.. soap, if you find the smell nice, but I do mind greatly when they’re gone for good by the end of the weekend.. ”

The man lets out a stifled whine, and you knew he was going to quickly explain himself. He lets his strong arms wrap around your body, and he leans to let his head rest against your shoulders.

“ Oh.. meine liebe.. I’m sorry I wouldn’t use it just because.. I use it because it reminds me of your scent.. ”

//“ my love ”//

He explained himself in a rather quiet tone than his usual, you knew this man was a little insecure of his image and probably being caught using a ‘ fragrant ‘ soap belonging to his partner doesn’t make it all well to his ‘ masculinity’. Even though you always made sure to assure him every time he felt anything in such way, this time you just pretended to not hear any word of his sentence, because you rather he say it confidently.

“ come again ? ”

The man looks at you with widen eyes, but he then again looks anywhere else than your own face. And you felt a little frustrated with how much eye contact breaking he’s doing these days, you knew your job wasn’t nice to both of you, demanding your attendance for hours then days then months on occasions. 

Which meant he was left to do some self love on his own, while probably brooding about certain people working with you who were certainly taking your ‘ attention ‘ while doing your job. You always came back home feeling regretful for neglecting the thought of nurturing your relationship further more, would that be possible though with how much time you both don’t rightfully have?

“ Come on.. what did you say hm? ”

Your hand would gently run against the scar adoring your lovers cheek, he swiftly took a hold of your hand into his. And he would lay his lips flat against your palm planting a chaste kiss before snuggling further into it, he then took a deep breath, before releasing a heavy sigh too. 

“ Scheiß-.. I miss you.. everyday I miss you so much, mein Engel.. without you here or your scent I just go crazy.. ” 

//“ shit ” // // “ My angle. ” //

He said with such urgency, and you would lie if you said you weren’t a little surprised with every word coming from his mouth. But he continues before you could say something yourself, his words even demanding much more from you than you could give.

“ mein Ein und Alles, even if I use whatever soap or perfume you put on I can’t seem to forget the distance that leaves me separated whenever you’re not here with me.. ”

You couldn’t grasp how forlorn and desperate this man sounded to you, and you take a little moment to analyze his words, his eyes now look at you with such force it pulls your breath right from your lungs. Such man could love so much he feels empty when you’re not around him, it’s simply a rare thing to be witnessed.

“ I didn’t know you.. felt that.. ”

What you couldn’t manage to muster up with words you did with actions, you took his whole face into your hands pulling him close till you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. You let your lips press against his, his lips warm but not soft, and parted so slightly. You could feel his heart hammer against your chest so loudly, once you pull a way you hear him say with such sway in his tone.

“ Ich liebe dich.. ”

#könig x you #könig x reader #cod mwf2 #cod könig #mw2 #call of duty

[delespresso]

IT'S YOU ━━ Antonio Dawson x fem!reader

author's note; hi! it's been a while since i actually wrote something and i really wanted to start again so here we are. first time writing for my man antonio and i hope it's good and liked <3

prompt; "what do you i've been doing this for?" from this list

summary; after a pretty messy breakup, she ends up crashing at antonio's. and she ends up moving in — but they're just friends.

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Antonio had known her for years. When she first moved to Chicago and became Gabby's partner on Ambulance 61, he was one of the few people that welcomed her from outside the firehouse.

Since then they'd been good friends, usually hanging out at Molly's or helping each other with mundane things. She was even good with Eva and Diego which always helped lessen his load after the divorce. There were times when she helped watch over the kids when Gabby couldn't and Antonio was stuck with a case while his ex-wife was traveling the world with her fancy new boyfriend.

He wasn't sure when it started, but at some point he felt it. The way his excitement grew at the prospect of seeing her again even if just for a drink with their circle of friends at Molly's. Or if they bumped into each other while on scenes. Or the few moments he'd get roughed up on the job and would come to her instead of an actual doctor or something.

But when he realized the way he was leaning onto her more than he probably should, he still couldn't stop it. Which was probably why he immediately offered her a place to stay when she broke up with her boyfriend whom she'd been living with.

“The kids are at a sleepover this weekend, but you don't need to worry about them,” he said as he brought two bottles of cold beer out for them.

She was on his couch, wrapped up in one of his hoodies as she curled up. Her boyfriend of four years turned out to be sleeping with his secretary. Cliché, but god she never expected it.

“You're sure they're gonna be fine with me staying?” she asked, wiping her nose with a tissue since she'd just stopped crying as she took the beer he offered.

In all honesty her heart was crushed. Who wouldn't be? She'd trusted her boyfriend only to find out he'd been stepping out on her.

Antonio could see the way she was hurting. And it filled him with a subtle rage. He wouldn't risk showing it though, all he did now was be there for her.

He let her curl up on the long couch as he settled in the armchair, watching her as she drank her beer.

“They love you,” he reminded her. “Eva would be happy to know you're here so she'd have someone to gossip with.”

They shared a chuckle over that. She did love the long chats with Eva about high-school drama. It was much simpler than her life now.

“You can stay as long as you need,” he added gently, a soft smile as he reassured her.

She looked at him, mustering up a soft smile of her own. How on earth did she get so lucky as to have a friend like him?

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

She'd been staying at Antonio's for half a year by now. The search for a place of her own wasn't going so well. But Eva and Diego were pretty much doing everything they could to convince her to just stay.

Antonio's feelings had been all over the place now that she was literally in the room next door to him. Everywhere he turned she was there. It didn't help with the ongoing want to always be around her.

She was usually so sharp on social cues. She'd notice if her friends had crushes or admirers from miles away. But when it was her own case, she was practically blind to it. Which clearly showed now as she was helping Hermann bartend at Molly's and serving up a drink for Antonio.

“You know you've got a hot one eyeing you up on your four o'clock,” she teased, passing him a bottle of cold beer.

Antonio was aware of the other woman. But his eyes was fixed on the one behind the bar in front of him.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, picking up his bottle and bringing it up to his lips, “I'm not looking for that.”

She rested her hands on the bartop, tilting her head at him. Now that she thought of it, he hadn't been on any dates for a while now. Much less flirting with anyone. Well, anyone but her. But they always had their harmless flirty banter.

“Then what are you looking for?” she asked, leaning forward slightly as she questioned him.

He sighed, scratching his stubble lightly as he turned his head for a moment. God, he loved her but he wished she opened her eyes sometimes.

“I'm not looking anymore ‘cause I already found it,” he answered simply, turning back to her with a soft smile.

“Meaning?” she asked again, raising her brows.

“Well, there's this girl,” he started to say. He paused though, grinning when he saw her lean in slightly as if she was interested in some hot scoop of gossip.

“She got her heart broken a while back. Since then, I've been tryna make her feel better. Pick up the little pieces.”

She paused then, her brain picking up all the information piece by piece. For a minute, she felt like she made the connection. But she didn't want to jump the gun.

“You told her how you feel?”

“Doing that right now.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Both of them just looked each other in the eyes as he smiled softly at the way she simply stared at him like that. He knew she was picking it up now.

“Antonio—”

“It's you,” he cut her off, pushing his beer bottle aside slightly. His arms were folded over the wooden bartop as he spoke to her. “It's been you for years now.”

She blinked, completely dumbfounded. Her heart felt like it was fighting to break out of her ribcage.

He felt like the weight was finally lifted off his shoulders now. It was out. He couldn't take it back and he didn't want to.

“Why didn't you say anything?” she finally asked after a few beats.

“You were spoken for,” he replied.

She'd been taken for the past four years. And he respected the relationship, so he never said anything or acted on his feelings. He wasn't the type for it.

“Not anymore,” she then said.

He paused, his eyes locked on hers for a moment as he nodded slowly.

“Not anymore,” he echoed. “What do you think I've been doing this for?”

A soft smile pulled on her lips as she looked at him, finally realizing she was right. She had sensed the subtle hints, but she was too scared to properly read into it.

Now though, he was making himself clear.

“I like you,” he said properly, making her smile brighter which caused an immediate rise in his heart rate. “And I know you're in the room next door—”

She laughed softly at that, looking down briefly. She was still living in his place after all.

“— but if you'd like, I'd love to properly take you out,” he finally finished.

He was nervous. In all honesty, she made him so nervous it made almost no sense. But he had to take the leap. He'd been waiting for years for the chance and he'd be damned if he didn't take it now.

She smiled, looking at him with those eyes that always made him weak.

“I'll clear my Friday night.”

#antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson #antonio dawson imagine #chicago pd #one chicago #antonio dawson fanfiction #oneshot #jon seda

[tiannasfanfic]

Weekend Moments

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: With your busy schedules, any weekend where you and your boyfriend get to spend time together is a good one.

Rating: General Auidences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used. I finally felt like writing again last night, which is a first for me in weeks. Hopefully this means my brain is clearing, but I'm not going to make any promises, just in case.

CW: Implied sex (no details); marijuana and tobacco use.

Word Count: 1,103

It was set to be a fun and relaxing weekend over at the Munson trailer.

Granted, every weekend over at Eddie’s was a relaxing one, but weekends together happened rarely now thanks to your schedules. After Eddie finally graduated, he went right into the work force, which was the same thing you had done two years prior.

Neither of you ever had plans for college. Neither of you had grades to go, plus you were too broke. While the local community college had financial aid programs, you weren't broke enough to qualify for any of them. Since you would rather sell your souls directly to Satan rather than take out student loans, the blue-collar life it was. You both came by it honestly though. You came from a long line of blue-collar workers, as did Eddie, and you both had accepted that as your lots in life.

For Eddie, he began working as an independent mechanic. He was very talented at it and, most of the time, charged his customers very little outside of recouping his cost for parts. Sometimes, for the truly broke, like single mothers or the elderly, he didn’t charge anything at all. He knew what it was like to not be able to afford to fix his van and helped people out as much as he could. It only took a few months before his good workmanship and affordable prices quickly made him a favorite in town.

That whole thing really struck you as ironic though. Most of his customers still thought Eddie actually DID sell his soul directly to Satan. But if he could save them money? Suddenly they had no problem treating him like an old friend, Satan worshiping be damned.

It irritated you in a way. They still didn’t treat him as well as they treated others, but at least they didn’t cross the street anymore when they saw him coming, and he would get polite words of greeting when he was out and about rather than outright ignored. You had to keep reminding yourself that at least he was finally being treated better. The reasons why didn’t really matter in the long run. Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons is still doing the right thing, and Eddie was much happier as a result. Ultimately, that’s all that really mattered to you.

And it worked out in everyone’s favor. Even without making much profit per job, Eddie stayed busy enough that he made a decent living. This was great since the two of you were saving up for your own place together.

As for you, you didn’t have nearly the technical skills that Eddie did, so your options were more limited. The local grocery store hired you right after graduation and that’s where you’ve been ever since. You started out as a cashier, but now really didn’t have an official position since you knew how to do everything. You might not have a lot of technical know-how, but you learned fast and did whatever job they gave you well, so they used you all over the store. This allowed you to pick up quite a few extra shifts, which you did as often as you could to save up money.

The downside to you both working so much was that you didn’t see each other that much as a result. While it was for the good reason of preparing for your future together, it didn’t make you miss each other any less. That was why you had both arranged your schedules this weekend so that he had no cars to look at and you had no extra shifts to cover.

And you both told exactly no one so it wouldn’t be interrupted.

Well. Less likely to be interrupted, that is. If anyone saw both Eddie’s van and your car outside of the trailer, the jig would be up. It wouldn’t take long for word to reach Dustin and your weekend alone would turn into an impromptu game night with the whole crew.

While neither of you minded when this happened, there was something that needed doing before that had the chance to happen.

As soon as Wayne left for work and the sound of his truck had faded off into the distance, Eddie wasted no time in whisking you off to the bedroom. Thanks to just normal life stuff, it had been over two weeks since you’d had any alone time. You were desperately ravenous for each other and, by the time you were on the bed, all of the clothing you both had been wearing was laid in a trail behind you to the living room.

Like all passionate displays of being ravenously desperate, neither of you lasted long. That was okay though. You and Eddie had been lovers for a long time now and knew each other’s bodies as well as you did your own. All of your escapades, no matter how short, were always intensely satisfying.

After some catching up during your post sex cigarettes, you headed for the shower and Eddie to the living room.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Eddie had found a movie to watch while he was rolling the joints you two would be having that evening. It was one of those old Hammer films with Christopher Lee that stations liked to show when they had nothing else to play. That was always to your benefit though since you both absolutely loved those movies.

As you headed across the living room to the kitchen to see what you could put together for dinner, your focus was on the television rather than on where you were walking. This resulted in your knee having an intimate encounter with the corner of the coffee table.

“Yee ouch!” you exclaimed, slightly staggering at the impact but you caught your balance quickly.

Eddie’s head snapped up with a look of concern.

“You okay, babe?” he asked.

You grumbled a confirmation as you started to continue on, but then you stopped and turned around. You looked at the coffee table thoughtfully for a second before shifting your gaze to Eddie, who was still watching you.

“You know, I can’t help but wonder sometimes why they always seem to make coffee tables kneecap height,” you said very seriously, and then went on to the kitchen.

It took Eddie a second, but soon you heard him burst into a fit of wild laughter.

“Like that one?” you called, grinning as you opened the refrigerator door.

“Oh yeah! That was great!” came Eddie’s voice, still in mid laughter.

It was definitely going to be a good weekend.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction

[bronx-bomber87]

Good morning Happy Weekend :) Our ship is back together in this episode and what a come back it is. I keep saying how each ep is so good its because it is ha S2 doesn't disappoint for moments. Let's get started.

2x08 Clean Cut

We first see our beautiful OTP getting ready for the day. Tim and Jackson are being recognized for helping that family last ep. Lucy telling Tim his accommodation is a big deal. Tim being his self deprecating self is thinking it’s not. He’s out of his damn mind if he thinks she’s not going to make a big deal out of this. Lucy couldn’t be prouder of him for this. I could see her beaming as Jackson tells her the story.

Lucy telling him she’s planned her emotional day around it is too cute. It's the most important part of her day. I love them so much. Tim continues to lessen what he did. Saying it’s not why he does this job. Ok honey she’s not buying that for one second. Their banter is the best. Lucy is of course is going to give him crap for his lack luster excitement. She wants him to be a little more excited about this.

You know he’s proud but just won’t acknowledge it let alone let Lucy do so. Oh Tim. Can't say I don’t relate to Tim with this. No doubt he wasn't given words of affirmation growing up. So when he does receive them he deflects it. Because he either doesn't believe he deserves it or just can't handle when it is genuine. (Like from Lucy and all her sunshine proudness) I'm the same way. I too didn't get those growing up. So getting them is hard to process or accept.

With Lucy making a big deal of it he can't process it so he deflects that feeling instead. Lucy calls his bluff tells him to turn it down then. Tim freezes then says it doesn’t matter to him (Lying liar who lies) but it matters to the higher ups. Says if he scores well in his exam plus the award it could rise him in the ranks faster. Lucy lets it go for now replies fair enough.

We rejoin them them in their shop. Lucy asks if Tim invited Rachel to his award. He says no and reminds her it’s not a big thing. Lucy calls him on it says she was busy wasn’t she? He caves and says out of town... They cute. They’re having a good time till Tim doesn’t see brake lights in front of him. Then their whole day changes in an instant.

The look of worry all over Lucy’s face when she see’s Tim is bleeding. Looks like she wants to reach out but doesn't. He disregards his nose and asks if she’s ok. He's more worried about her. Ugh my heart. You know him crashing is going to shake him alone. Crashing a car with Lucy in it only makes it so much worse. He thinks he’s endangered her on top of everything else. Tim calls it in and lets them know a city vehicle is involved.

Doesn’t take long for their crash to be swarming with cops. Lucy is surprised at how many are here. Tim tells her how serious this is. Officer involved accidents are anything but good. His body language is all anxiety. He’s trying to keep it in but he’s worried. He’s never been very good at hiding his true emotions from Lucy.

The Sargent running the scene comes up and is cavalier. Telling them Tim is getting a day at the beach. Lucy is beyond confused about what this means. Tim explains what the off handed comment means. You can see the stress coming off him in waves. We all know how Tim needs his control and now it’s out of his hands. He’s listing off all the ways he could be disciplined. All the joking and 'not caring' about his award is out the window now. The only thing left is his disappointment and shock.

Lucy’s face in that gif above ugh my heart. Her eyes alone showing all the empathy she is carrying for him. She doesn’t want him to feel this way. To feel like taking the exam is useless now. It’s written all over her face she wants to fix this. To save him from whatever is headed his way about this. It’s killing her to see him so defeated.

Lucy knows he’s beating himself up ten fold over this. You can see her wanting to protect him from this whole thing. All she wants to do is make it better. Tim is thinking all his hard work is going to go down the drain before his eyes. That all he can do is wait and watch it happen. Lucy can't stand the fact he's defeated right out the gate. Its all over her body language how much she wants to rectify this for him.

Tim’s face kills me when Grey pulls up and asks what happened. He’s in a state of shock as he’s explaining. He looks so sad. Grey says he should sit out the ceremony. Tim makes a morose joke the deputy director won’t want to give an officer facing demotion a plaque…Lucy looks just as sad as him. We all know this award meant more to him than he was leading on. It's being ripped away from him now.

Harper advises Tim to get checked at hospital for liability reasons. He looks so beat but says thanks. He’s clearly upset and lost by the end of the scene. Lucy tells him how sorry she is. It’s coming off him in waves. Tim tries to compartmentalize. Tells Lucy to get their shop back to the garage then meet him at the hospital with their new one. She looks like she wants to say more but doesn't. That anxious need to fix this for him is seeping out of every pore in her body.

Poor Tim is at the hospital by himself. He sees Lopez for a second but she’s looking after a high af Jackson LOL You can tell he wants to talk. Jackson wanders off and Angela has to follow leaving him standing there. Dr Sawyer tells Tim, Sarah the driver is ok and that she asked about him. Then he is cleared and goes to talk to the driver. She seems like she just wants to let it go. Let the city pay for everything and move on. Her BF is a little more intense. Saying they’re gonna sue. Flying off the handle when Sarah is trying to just be done with it. Alarm bells are going off for Tim with this guy. He just doesn’t know why. So he walks away from the situation telling her he hopes she feels better soon.

Lucy arrives at the garage and the Sargent that was at the scene is there. Calls her little lady (first mistake my friend…) Lucy shakes it off and says she was the one with her T.O. and the accident. He continues to be an ass and says 'Oh beach boy...yeah he’s screwed.' It’s like this guy wanted to have his head ripped off by her I swear. She’s already anxious from how he’s feeling, with no way to currently make it better.

He’s poking an angry bear and has no idea what he’s in for. Lucy is aghast with his finality about the situation. Questions him and ask if he’s even checked out the other car yet. He tells her not yet. Lucy tells him she doesn’t remember seeing brake lights from that woman’s car. The Sargent continues his condescending tone and says ‘uh huh…’ Lucy then asks him if he can check. He is dismissive and says when he has time. That’s when the wrath of Lucy Chen comes raining down on this man. LOL

There is a great line from Castle that fits this. It's from one of my favorite episodes. Where the baddie is caught by Beckett and he says he was told about hell raining down on him if he was caught by her. Then says "He said something about hell raining down on me. Never imagined hell would look like you." That's how I feel about this scene. How this guy had no idea the hell that was going to rain down on him by not helping Lucy with Tim's situation. I am sure he wasn't expecting that day if he was going to get his ass handed to him it would be by her. Amazing.

Lucy is already irritated with the entire situation. She is also feeling a lack of control. Then she comes here trying to help Tim and gets this dismissive schmuck. She was ready to fight before this guys rude attitude. This only lit that fire from a flame to an inferno and he was in her path. I love how she completely destroys him. How fiercely she defends Tim to this man she doesn’t even know.

Refuses to let this be the end of it. She’s going to make him look at that other car even if she has his drag his ass over there to do it. Lucy calling this guy out on his macho BS. God I love her resilience in the face of stuff like this. Lucy is so wrapped up in passionately defending Tim she forgets she’s speaking to a senior officer the ‘sir’ and respectful posture at the end. Classic.

The best part is he listens. I think he respected her for standing up to him and calling him on his crap. The Lucy Chen effect haha This wouldn’t be the first time she’s chewed out a superior officer for him. She did the same thing back in 1x16 with Detective Murphy. No one kicks Tim while he’s already down superior officer or not in her presence. I love watching her defend and protect him.

They go to check out the car and the brake lights were pulled. Lucy asks if this could've happened during the accident. He says no they were pulled on purpose. So our girl was right. Gotta love it. She asks why this person would do this? He tells her insurances scams. He sees it all the time. Tells her maybe your T.O. isn’t screwed after all. Lucy relaxes visibly and the claws get put away. They find extra stuff in the trunk. Chemicals that are used to cook meth or set fires. Tim’s gut from earlier coming true about these people.

Lucy makes it back to hospital to tell Tim the good news. That the brake lights were disconnected. The relief on Tim’s face when she tells him is immense. She also tells him about the arson materials they found in the trunk as well. They go to confront Sarah. Tim has his confidence and swagger back. Not as defeated as before. You can see it in his stance while they're in Sarah's room.

They tell her they know her car was rigged and the materials they found in her car. She gets testy and a tad defensive. She then tries to say car isn’t hers. Tim goes on offensive and says is it your boyfriends? The one who wanted to sue me? She doesn’t reply. They get his name off her contact sheet ‘ Mike Garvey’ and he’s next.

First off I love that he trusts her enough to do this interrogation alone. It makes sense she would do it solo. He doesn't know she was with him. I just adore him not even thinking about it. Knowing she can handle this all on her own. Lucy doesn’t question it for one second. Just does this for him on his behalf because that’s what partners do. Right now she will do anything to get him out of the hole he’s in. They just need to get this guy to crack and they're golden. I do love how he paces watching it. Ready to pounce on this guy if he does anything.

Mike is instantly defensive with Lucy. Could not be more guilty. He tries to get under Lucy’s skin and tell her Tim should be fired. She won’t even make eye contact with him cause she will eat him if she does LOL Straight up lies when Lucy asks if he ever uses her car. Lucy goes right at him. Saying he didn’t disconnect her taillights for insurance fraud? He lies again says nope. Lucy brings up his past of being convicted of fraud.

That’s the last straw and he storms out and Tim follows him out. Mike goes off saying how he’s going to sue him and whole dept. Tim confidently (also very sexy btw) comes up to him. Says if he can only afford one retainer he should go for a criminal one. *fans self* God I love me some confident Tim. Phew lord. Mike takes off. Lucy apologizes for not getting more out of him. Tim says not to be the point was to wind him up. Send him back to Sarah wind her up and see who breaks first. Look at that sexy stance. He knows he'll have him dead to rights soon enough.

They go to see Sarah tell her to make a deal. She’ll wanna be first one on this. She agrees. Sarah tells them she was about to leave him. That she was using the car to get suitcases. She had no idea about the brake lights. Lucy asks why she’s leaving him? She tells them he's going over the edge. Used to just be insurance scams for money or arson scams but now it’s worse. She says he’s agreed to kill a man’s wife for cut off the life insurance policy. What a prince… Tells them she know it’s going down today.

Lucy gets to do another mini UC as the potential wife. They easily catch Mike and Tim gets to be the one to stop him. Sweet karma you putz. I think he enjoyed shouting instructions at this ass-hat to get him to surrender. I know I did haha Tim is cheeky and can’t let the wig go and makes a comment to Lucy about it. Her face I’m dying LMAO Even in the middle of an arrest the work flirts find their way in.

Lucy is so so proud of Tim and his accommodation. She is in wifey mode 100% and there is no stopping her with the pics and pride. Claiming they’re ‘For Rachel’ Sure they are Lucy.... Whatever you need to tell yourself. Tim is trying to make sure she doesn’t add it to her Home Screen haha They’re so cute I can't stand it. Also little bit of payback when he took all those pics of her last season when she fell asleep haha Parallels galore in this ending scene.

The look on his face when she shows him the lock screen hehe he’s so used to her shenanigans at this point. Doesn't even fight it. Tim has gone from annoyance to adoration though. It makes me so giddy.(The growth *heart clutch*) Look at that sheepish smile. He’s so cute and flustered by her attention and affection for him. Girl isn't hiding how she feels about this one bit. That reverence she has for him It's inevitable at this point and he's accepting it slowly. Another crack grows, carving out a piece of that wall of his. It hits the ground and shatters.

He then gets serious. Tim is very aware he wouldn't be standing here without her. That she fought and clawed to save his career. I love him for thanking her. The absolute growth in him for doing so. We get two special growth moments in this scene. Makes my shipper heart so damn happy. Recognizing what she did for him today. Verbalizing it the best way he can. He's still working on this particular skill with her. He’s in awe that she did that for him. It shows in how he tries to thank her. He's stumbling on his words to get it out.

She relieves him of his flustered thankfulness by throwing his line back at him. The most beautiful thing about this moment is the parallels to when Tim saved hers. Lucy didn’t even think for two seconds before going and doing everything she could to save his career. Just like he did in Plain Clothes Day and The Checklist from last season. Refusing to let this be the end of his path to Sargent. Her way of thanking him for all that he’s done for her. Also she didn’t record that audio book for nothing LOL

The lengths these two go for one another astounds me. Her doing this was letting him know she has his back just as much as he has hers. This is the kind of stuff that built the amazing couple we get in s5. The beautiful base they build along the way is rock solid. These are the moments that get us there.

Honestly Lucy throwing back his doing my job line. My heart. The work flirts make my heart so happy. He can’t even fight the smile on his face. She saved his career and used his own words against him. He’s falling in love and has no idea about it. So smitten with one another not ready for that to be more just yet. The underlying chemistry and attraction was always there though.

How can two people exude so much chemistry just sitting next to one another? All they’re doing is drinking beer and yet. They look so married in this scene. Like they're already a couple just celebrating with their friends. Let’s also note how much room there is on that bench. Yet they’re within inches of each other. Their love affair with being anti personal-space continues. I’m here for it all damn day. Look at how in-sync they are in both those gifs. The physical chemistry between these two long before they were together blows my mind. I love them so much.

~~~~

Side notes- Non chenford

Jackson being high as a kite is hilarious as hell. Angela chasing him around all ep, trying to keep it under wraps too damn funny. Always enjoyed their dynamic.

Harper having a good day with Grey. Getting him to write a positive eval for her for Lila. Her growth continues as well and I love it. I enjoy her journey to the Harper we have now so very much.

John and Ellroy super cute as well. Him introducing him to Nell beyond precious. I'll say it again I enjoyed John and Grace a lot. They had solid chemistry.

#Caitlin rewatches The Rookie #chenford #chenford hiatus #summer rewatch #waiting on s6 #s2 #2x08 Clean Cut #2x08 #the rookie #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim x lucy #lucy x tim #eric winter #melissa o'neil #otp: doing my job #otp: you know me so well. too well. #tim bradford x lucy chen

[writingfics-passingtime]

Dandelions - Ruth B.

Peter Parker x reader

Thank you, @manyfandomsfanvergent 💜 This story came to me almost instantly. Hope you like it !!

Forever in Your Eyes

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Dandelions

Pairing: (AG) Peter Parker x reader (no pronouns used)

Words: ~1500

CWs: minor swearing, mentions of Gwen’s death, some kissing

Sunset light bathes the battered desks and vinyl floors of the art studio, discussions of weekend plans and new movies hums lowly through the room; Thursday night classes had that effect on everyone, but especially those with no classes on Friday.

Those like Peter Parker - who’d only made the Friday Class Mistake once so far in his college career. The young college student, and part time masked vigilante, slides into an empty plastic chair just as the tutor enters the room.

“Portraits!” The tutor, a vibrant bespectacled man named Robin, reminds everyone of the plan for the class as he takes attendance in his head. There were only about sixteen people in this time slot so it’s an easy task.

“Your assignment was to find some portraiture you really connected with, take it apart, make it your own, I don’t need to remind you guys,” he waves a hand as a shrug. “Let’s jump in so we can all get on with our weekend. Who wants to go first for crits?”

The girl sitting next to Peter, an eager beaver named Marie, puts her hand up to have her work picked apart. And so it begins.

Person after person shares their screen to the projector and explains why they chose their setting, the subject, the colouring, why it was edited the way it was. Peter ends up being last, and he’s feeling pretty good about the photos he’d taken of you.

He’d had to bribe you, of course. Because you hated being in front of a camera but not more than you loved a burger from that place just outside of town - the place near a secret patch of wildflowers that Peter wanted to capture you in.

He’d been careful to make sure the flowers treated carefully and with respect. Then, he’d done the same with his camera-shy best friend.

You’d needed a lot more reassurance than the flowers had.

“I’m doing a terrible job.”

“No, you’re doing great,” Peter encouraged as he peaked out from behind the lens. “Tilt your head a little to the left, just a- perfect.” He snapped a few more shots before seeing you subtly squirm and draw in an uncomfortable breath. He lowered the camera and caught you in a gentle, level stare. “Hey. Just look at me.”

“You’re not the problem,” you argued and crossed your arms over yourself, “It’s that thing in your hand.”

He grinned at you. “Don’t look at the thing in my hand.” He saw you take another shaky breath in before you met his eye with an intense vulnerability.

“Yeah,” his smile softened, he pointed and clicked as he kept your focus on him. “Just keep looking at me…”

The photos turned out great, and it’s his turn to have his work critiqued.

He clicks a few keys, types in the screen-sharing code, and your face fills the large screen at the front of the room.

It’s an objectively beautiful photo of you. The colours of the earth and the flowers bring out that sparkle in your eye that Peter’s come to know as the starlight that appears when you’re laughing, or thinking of something cheeky to say in response, when you’re truly at ease and happy where you are. Your expression says peace. The flowers around you bring out something wild in your soft smile. Your stare is just above the lens, fixed on Peter.

Before he can explain why he chose this field, why he chose his best friend, Robin makes a noise of approval and turns to the class.

“Okay guys, see now this is the advantage of doing portraits with a romantic partner- with someone you have a real connection with. See that depth in the subject’s eyes, and see where the eyes are fixed? On the photographer, right? Now, that’s something that can’t be faked.”

The sun had set. The room has darkened. But Peter is caught too off-guard to worry if anyone can see the way his cheeks were burning, or the way his drying mouth was hanging open. But you don’t feel the sa-

“The trick, Peter, is going to be figuring out how you can pull this from other subjects going forward,” Robin throws the words out so nonchalantly, painfully oblivious to the way his student’s head is spinning. “Now let’s take a look at the setting.”

The rest of the feedback is a ghost to Peter. It drifts by, vacant, untouchable, warping time and reality. All he can think of is you and that look in your eyes. How long had you looked at him like that without him noticing?

Or, more accurately, how long did he notice but not really know what it meant?

Needless to say, he broke land speed records sprinting out of the building the second class ended, and ripping his skateboard down the sidewalk towards your apartment just off-campus.

Oblivious to Peter’s crisis, you pick up a fork and make your way to the fuzzy blankets calling your name. Your roommates were out and it was the perfect night for Doordash and a marathon of that show you’d been wanting to see. You settle onto the couch, ready to press play, when you hear a frantic knock at your front door and Peter shouting your name through it.

“I know you’re in there!” He yells, still pounding. You lower your brow and practically vault over the couch trying to get to the door before he breaks it down with his fist.

“I’m coming! Jeez, Pete!” You yell back right before your fingers flip the deadbolt and you pull the door inwards. “What the hell’s the matter with y-”

“How long?” He demands, waging a glare so intense you suddenly feel like you’ve done something super wrong. Your mouth falls slack as Peter brushes past you to enter your apartment.

It takes you a moment to recover, to try and put together what the hell he was on about, and by the time you realise that he’s out of line coming in here with vague accusations, so you close the door and turn to face him, you’re met with the sight of his open laptop screen on your kitchen counter.

It’s a photo of you, from the wildflower fields. Something deep in you wants to internally cringe but… it looks real. Honest.

When you meet Peter’s eye, he looks the same way. Except there’s something desperate in his gaze.

“How long?” He repeated, breathless and wanting.

You open your mouth to respond and quickly realise you don’t know how to. Thankfully, Peter fills in the blanks.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

It’s a punch to the gut. That question. It sucks every bit of air from your lungs, from your throat, tears spring to your eyes and you don’t really know why. Maybe because it’s so out of left-field and you have no time for any other reaction. Maybe because of the despairing way he was looking at you, and you had no idea why he’d be doing this.

“Peter, please,” you choked out. It was useless to lie to him. “I’ve never expected anything more from you, I’m happy with-”

He takes a step forward. “How long?”

You cover your eyes with the heels of your palms and sniff in a cry. “I don’t know. A while, I guess.”

You feel him take another step towards you and you’re sure you’re done for. He’s going to step around you and walk out and never come back and-

“We’ve wasted so much time,” his gentle whisper comes. His touch comes too, weaving through your own, tugging your palms from your eyes just far enough for him to place his hands, cradling either side of your face.

You brave meeting his eye, and… peace.

Your shoulders release their tension, your jaw unclenches, your hands find rest around his wrists. In a feeble attempt to explain, you mumble, “I didn’t know if you were ready.”

The metaphysical mention of Gwen sends a bolt of grief through Peter’s heart. But it’s a grief he’s grown to greet like a friend; one that will always be with him, one that wants him to grow.

His thumb traces the warm blush on your cheekbones, wiping away a tear in the process. He didn’t do this right. He should’ve done this better but the pain and recognition and the want all melded into one and-

He stops overthinking and doesn’t waste any more time.

Peter ducks his head and kisses you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he already knows the contours of your skin, like he’s memorised the steady beckoning in your breath.

He’s a welcoming home. Under his hands, you find a refuge. When he steps into you, closing the space between your bodies, the heat of him is an all-encompassing embrace. You kiss him like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times before. It feels so right. The taste of forever is sweeter than any time you’d ever dreamed of it.

Because this time it’s real.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew garfield peter x reader #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter x you #JJ’s mixtape #Peter Parker drabble #gender neutral imagine #peter parker x gender neutral reader #Peter Parker x you #no y/n #marvel x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #marvel drabble

[till-you-scream-and-cry]

Kneel

summary: you meet Ethan at the Halloween party, and you’d never expect his costume to make you feel the way it did.

word count: 1.9k

contents: SMUT, religious kink, blasphemy, people with religious trauma, beware

author's note: this one is brought to you because of @roisinlove123​ ‘s request and my insanity. Enjoy 😘

Måsterlist | tåglist | my chapter story

“Fuck…” 

You mumbled, hit the red button on your phone screen and threw it on the passenger seat. Your mother never failed. Every damn year she called you on Halloween night to remind you that ‘you can’t celebrate this satanic holiday' and that 'you’ll go to hell for that’. If only this poor woman knew about all the fun stuff which already guaranteed you a cell there, a long time ago. Starting from alcohol and drug abuse every weekend, through adultery and sex outside of marriage to some ungodly acts of occasional homosexuality.

Yeah, the list was long. You looked at the mirror and smiled, fixing your lipstick. This year you definitely nailed the costume, no doubt about that. A perfect mix of slutty and scary. 

You sighed and left your car, clapping the door loudly. They were late as always. You were supposed to give Thomas, Ethan and Vic a lift to a costume party, apparently, they had an amazing costume idea. Well, to find out you had to move your ass and ring a doorbell since none of them gave you a sign of life.

“I don’t remember Anabelle being this hot”

Ethan opened the door in nothing but jeans and a devilish smirk. You smiled and fixed your pigtails.

“Well, why aren’t you dressed yet? Or is this your outfit? Sexy and scary Italian?” 

“Oh, so I’m sexy?” He asked, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning against the doorframe. 

“As if you didn’t know that already.” You smirked, watching his flexed arms. 

“Sorry! We’re ready!” 

Vic and Thomas appeared in the hall, dressed as Morticia and Gomez Addams. Vic put her hair in a low bun, painted a moustache and put on her black suit. Thomas had a surprisingly nice, black wig, amazing makeup and a long velvet dress, with a leg slit, showing his hairy thigh.

“Guys it’s fucking amazing.” You said and started slow clapping. 

“Grazie, we tried,” Thomas said and threw his hair back. “What are you waiting for, we’re already late.” He said to Ethan, who was very amused with their final look.

“Oh, I have one more thing to do. And well…I like a big entrance.” Ethan said with a mysterious smirk and winked at you.

“Alright, see you later then. Let’s go guys.” You said to Vic and Thomas, almost pushing them outside.

“Have fun!” You’ve heard a raspy scream of Damiano, followed by a loud series of coughing. He had bad luck catching the flu right before Halloween. 

“Get better soon, dude!” You yelled and left, leaving a smirking and waving Ethan in the doorway.

The party was amazing, much better than you expected. Everyone did a really good job with costumes, some people were unrecognizable. You lost Thomas in the crowd, Vic was flirting with some girl dressed as Britney in ‘One More Time’, shamelessly staring at her tits. She glanced at you and winked before dragging the girl towards the bathroom. You smirked and walked to a bar to refill your glass, your head was buzzing a little, but definitely not enough. You poured a fair amount of whisky and coke and turned around to face the room. You took a sip and almost choked.

Ethan was standing maybe two, or three meters in front of you. His hands in his pockets, a shit-eating grin on his gorgeous face. He was standing there, waiting for you to notice, to see your reaction. His hair was loose and waved, thrown back, exposing his neck. It was a crucial point of his outfit. He had a collar on. But not a choker, oh no. It was a clerical collar. He was dressed as a fucking priest. 

Ethan walked a little closer and cocked his head to the side, licking his lips slowly.

“Oh, so you like it?” He said, standing even closer. 

His cologne reached your nostrils, you started noticing details such as his eye makeup, rings on his thick fingers, and the button-up black shirt which was a bit too tight on his bicep.

“Uh huh, yeah I kinda do…” 

You mumbled, not understanding fully what was going on with you. Nobody has been ever able to turn you on so damn much by any roleplay. You felt the deeply rooted Christian guilt mixing with your degradation kink. You needed his hands on your neck and his cock down your throat, and you needed it now. You needed him to tell you what a sinner and filthy slut you are.

“I’m sorry, are you still there? You’re almost drooling cucciola. Try to be more subtle, or I'll think that it’s because of me.” He said and gently grabbed your chin. You tilted your head back, unable to control the tiny gasp that left your mouth. 

“Or maybe you need to talk to me in private. Confess your sins maybe?” He mumbled against your lips. All you could do was nod, a bit too eagerly. He smirked. 

“Come with me then, little lamb,” he said and grabbed your hand firmly.

He led you through the corridor and opened the door to a small room which turned out to be the pantry. He turned on a light, a single, old lightbulb. Ethan pushed you inside and locked the door. The room was small, shelves full of jars were on both walls, and on the wall facing the door, there was a small table. He stepped closer, making you walk backwards till your thighs hit its edge.. 

“There, such a pretty girl.” He grabbed your chin again, harder this time. His thumb started brushing your lips, smearing your dark red lipstick. “So pretty and dressed like a whore. Maybe you want to confess what else you're guilty of, hmm?

“Yeah…” A breathy word left your mouth.

“So? I’m listening. I can’t believe that with lips like this you don’t just love sucking cocks.”

“I do.” You mumbled, feeling your panties getting completely soaked. 

“Oh, I know you do. But I bet you like pussy too, I’ve heard gossips.”

He slipped his hand under your dress, slowly caressing your thigh. You parted your legs a little, aching for him to touch you where you needed it most. 

“I bet just thinking about it makes you wet, that’s how filthy you are, aren’t you? Just dripping at the thought of it.” 

He moved his hand to your inner thigh and briefly brushed your soaked panties, making you gasp. He took his hand away and grabbed your cheeks hard between his thumb and index finger. 

“Oh no, you need to atone for being a whore first.” 

“Please…Father.” You mumbled, feeling no shame left. You craved him too much to care. He smirked and bit his lip.

“Kneel.” 

You obeyed him without a question, You dropped to your knees in an instance, without breaking the eye contact. 

“Such a good girl…” He mumbled, unbuckling his belt. 

He unzipped his trousers and let his already hard cock out. He wasn't wearing any underwear. He grabbed his dick and gave it a few strokes, staring deeply into your eyes, enjoying how eager and willing you looked. 

“Take it, slowly.” He commanded.

You grabbed him with one hand and gave him a long lick. He felt so warm and heavy on your tongue, that you couldn’t hold back a hum. Ethan shook his head.

“You can’t even pretend that you’re sorry for being a slut, can you?” He asked with a grin. You shook your head and smirked. “Well if you’re acting like a slut, you should be fucked like one.”

Ethan guided your head, you wrapped your lips around his cock and started slowly sucking the tip. But it wasn’t enough. He grabbed your pigtails and started pulling you lower, making you take him deeper in your mouth. He made you take him almost entirely, making you choke a little, getting your eyes teary. He let you go and allowed you to take a breath, staring with a smirk at the saliva dripping down your chin.

“Such a good girl.” He mumbled. You smiled and opened your mouth wide again, sticking out the tongue. 

He grabbed your hair and pushed in slowly but surely, this time letting you take less of him. Ethan started grunting and bucking his hips towards your face. As he got louder and faster he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face, pulling you up from your knees. 

“Such a perfect little slut, I think you deserve a reward.”

He swiftly turned you around and pushed you on the small table. His big hands run up your thighs, pulling up your short dress. Ethan snapped your lacy panties and threw them aside. He kicked your legs apart and forced you to bend over, exposing yourself more for him.

“So pretty…” He said and ran two fingers through your folds, making you whimper. “And so damn wet, all for me…” He pushed two fingers in. You whined pathetically, desperately spreading your legs further. He chuckled.

“You want some cock, don’t you? Just aching to get it, filthy whore.” He smacked your ass hard with an open hand, leaving a red print on it. “Beg for it.”

You looked over your shoulder and bit your lip.

“Please…please I need you.” 

“You need…what?” he asked, teasing your hole with his tip.

“Please I need your cock, I need it deep inside me…Father.” You whined.

Ethan grunted, slowly pushing in, stretching your tight cunt around his dick. You gasped and arched your back, feeling him deeper, and deeper. He finally pushed all the way in and smacked your ass again.

“Taking me so well, I see you’re very well trained, hmm?” He asked and smacked you. “I bet I’m the best you had.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. Ethan slipped almost all the way out, only to slam back in you with force. It felt so good that you screamed, not caring much about people who might hear. He grabbed your hips and started bucking into you hard and fast, leaving you breathless. Your moans filled the room, the noises of your skin slapping against each other, and the sound of how wet you were. You felt that you were dripping down your thighs. His fingers dug deep into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind. 

“Fucking scream for me, tell me how good it feels.” He growled.

“It feels so fucking good…” You mumbled between moans, unable to think straight.

“Now…I’m…your…god!” he spat out with every thrust.

“Yes…Yes!” You screamed loudly before the orgasm clouded your brain. You had no idea how loud you were, what words left your mouth and how hard he went towards the end. You felt the bliss incomparable with anything you ever felt. He was right, he was the best one you had. 

“Cazzo…” He mumbled before coming with a moan. 

He filled you with his hot cum, as you were still clenched around his cock. Your legs were shaking and your head was spinning as if you just downed a full glass of tequila. Ethan slipped out of you and grabbed the panties he tossed aside. He sat you on the table, knelt in front of you and cleaned you up with great care. He looked up at you and smiled, kissing your still-shaky leg. 

After some time to collect yourselves, Ethan kissed you softly and opened the pantry door. He immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to yourself. Tired and still shaky, you poured yourself a drink, and turned around, feeling someone’s eyes on you. 

“Oh hey.�� You said to Vic, who was squinting her eyes at you. “What?” You asked with a blissful smile.

“Oh nothing,” A big grin slowly showed up on her face. “I just don’t remember the part of the film where Anabelle fucks a priest."

...

tåglist: @oro-e-diamanti @wonderlandishell @maneskinbrainrot @elvirabelle @maneslut @ha-la-ansia @mortyandem @noemieprd27 @icarodamiano @myleftsock @iamtashaquinn @coven-daddy @mylittlegoldilocks @thewitchinthemountain @8iunie @bethanysnow @writingmaneskin @mayayayayurmom19 @blackberryblossom @hiraetheral @ilwiwbysmv @weareoddlydrawn @jrj2 @bieberhoodforever @slutforethantorchio @chesirecatt @que–sera–sera @damiisdaddy @xmusse @iamtashaquinn @butkutee​  @ohdamiano @little-moonbeam-666 @changbineyeskz @Måneskintifoso @stardustingold  @woahzz11 @cuzimitaliano @thegeminisgirl  @bisexual-babygirl-mj @maneslut  @damiisdaddy @vicdeangelis  @xweirdxsceletton @fanfictionandfluff @the-invisible-queer   @superchrystaldrug​ @paralianeyes​ @que–sera–sera

#maneskin fiction #maneskin smut #ethan torchio fiction #ethan torchio smut #smut #religious kink #blasphemy #my writing #kneel

[skyeet-the-writer]

backwoods to beaches (rooster x female!reader)

1 — Piano-Playing Pilots

ever since i watched top gun 2 i've been obsessed with miles teller. like obsessed like it's embarrassing. so, to deal with my problem, ive written and entire ass essay as seen below you. and there will be more. much more coming towards yall

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x female!reader

summary: as a girl from georgia, california is a big change. but working at a bar gives you a perfectly good reason to oogle at piano-playing pilots on a late night

word count: ~5.8k

warnings: some swearing, alcohol (obv), suggestive mentions, hardcore flirting around the end

notes: if you couldn’t tell by the title or the summary, reader is from georgia and down south so there will be a lot of mentions/references to this. i myself am from western ky, but if i’ve gotten anything wrong or aren’t portraying it correctly, lmk how to fix it! other than that, enjoy y’all. x.

insp by @heartsofminds fic “blooming”

playlist:

That first summer as a bartender was rough. California was a lot hotter than you thought it would be, and by the time the night was over and the rush of military men and women had thinned, you were covered in sweat.

California was also not as pretty as you had made it up to be in your head. There were a lot fewer trees than you would have preferred. But there were beaches.

Back from where you came from, everything was pretty to you. Rolling hills, fields full of wildflowers. Beautiful sunrises and even more stunning sunsets. Acres upon acres of forests, with dirt trails dusty and worn from generations of four-wheeling and ATVing. Miles of farmland that were always ready when harvest comes around. Creeks clear as glass and ponds full of almost every kind of fish one could think of. Everything you had grown up with and around was absolutely gorgeous to you.

California had her fair shares of beauty. But not as many as back home.

When you and your best friend graduated college, you two wanted a change of scenery. And so, when her uncle called her and invited her to live with her, she accepted and took you with her. It was hard, watching that small town you had lived in all your life fade in the rearview mirror, but at the time, it was what you wanted.

Your friend's uncle was in the navy and he lived in Miramar. Also called "Fightertown, USA". You quickly figured out why when a jet flew over your head as you two exited the car upon your arrival at your new home.

You and your friend smiled at each other, excited to have a fresh start.

To complete the absolute teenage dream, the two of you got a job at the same bar, the Hard Deck. It was just a few minutes away, a perfect fit for your friend, who always happened to be late to everything. Not to mention that it paid pretty well, had tips, and was also run by a woman.

But on your second week, you realized how much of a nightmare it could be. The naval men and women always came in, talking loudly, and began to laugh louder after a few drinks. But somehow, it reminded you of home. That's why you lasted longer than your friend did.

You found joy in your stressful job. The owner, Penny, often called you into work during the weekend, the busiest time. You began to recognize people's faces and remember their names, even remembered a few orders as the weeks went by.

When the summer came to an end, you had become some of the patron's favorites. Some were familiar with your accent and you found friendships in those ones, asking what part of Georgia, Louisana, or Carolina they were from and smiling at stories you could relate to.

Another year passed and the next summer, you became even better at your job. When you first started, you were a nervous, shy little girl from Georgia who had trouble remembering things but was still so sweet. Suddenly, you became this young lady with a thick accent and an even thicker skull. The girl who used to blush and twirl her hair at any man who flirted with her to a woman who would simply shake her head at another young boy just vying for attention.

Tonight, the bar is hopping. Penny, who, despite being your boss, is one of your closest friends/motherly figures, is busy chatting it up with some older guy who doesn't look over the age of thirty. You didn't catch his name, far too busy with the customers Penny should be dealing with. But you don't mind. You don't know a whole lot about Miss Penny's personal life, but something tells you that there was once something between her and the older man.

"Could I get another beer, Miss L/N?" asks Cooper, a regular from last year.

"Of course, Coop," you tell the man, taking his glass from him. "What was it, Bud Light?"

He nods. "You got it. Say, how come you always rememberin' all these orders. I couldn't ever do that."

With a smile, you refill his glass and place it back to him with a new napkin under it. "Ain't you a flight operator?" you tease with a raised brow.

Cooper smiles and laughs. "Yeah, that's true." He lifts his glass to his lips.

You tap the bar in front of him and move to another patron next to him. "Besides, you come in here often enough for me to remember." You turn to the woman in front of you. "You had a whiskey on the rocks, right, darling?"

The lady nods and suddenly there's a loud ringing of a bell from nearby. The bar erupts into cheers and you spot Penny's date with his head in his hands and Penny with a triumphant smirk.

"Looks like this one's on the house," you tell the woman, topping her glass off before sliding it back towards her.

Humming to yourself, you mentally prepare for the next round of drinks on the man. It was bar rules that if anyone insulted a woman, they had to buy the entire bar a round. It sure was fun to watch their smirk vanish from their face. You've rung that bell a few times yourself and watched the color drain from the man flirting with you fade from his face almost as quick as the smug smirk.

"Hey, pretty lady!" comes a familiar voice that makes you smile. Jake Seresin, A.K.A. "Hangman", approaches the bar, grinning. "Can I get four beers on the old man?"

With a simple nod and a smile, you reach to the fridge below the bar and pull out four beers, two in each hand before handing them to Hangman.

"How's your evenin' been, Jake?" you ask him, taking just a moment to have a small conversation.

The man grins and says, "Pretty good. You?"

"Had three guys ask for my number," you reply, grinning. "Threatened to ring the bell on 'em if they didn't cut it out."

Jake groans. "You shoulda done it anyway! Would've saved me a lot of money." With a laugh, he walks off, likely to his friends. You've been watching them play pool all evening and you can hear their banter even from over here.

As the night wears on, you quickly begin to wear out. Bartending is an exhausting practice, mixing drink after drink and refilling or restocking. Thankfully, most people only get beers. Those are your favorite kinds of people, the ones where you can just hand them something and have them be on their way.

Eventually, your best friend, Dixie, comes in, instantly claiming her usual seat at the bar close to the door. You smile when she walks in and she races to steal one of the few open barstools before someone else can claim it.

Dixie doesn't drink, which is odd considering how often she comes in to bother you. You place a bowl of chips in front of her and sparkling water and wipe your hands down.

"Y'all are busy, huh?" she asks, crunching on one of the bar's chips. "Look at all these hunks, Y/N."

With a roll of your eyes, you remember why she comes in so often. She loves to oogle at the military boys that filled the majority of the bar. She always had a thing for military men. That was one of the few things you didn't have in common: despite living in a military town, none of the men seemed to do it for you. Most of them were too cocky, too bold, their egos too big. You never preferred those kinds of boys.

Dixie on the other hand? They were her favorite. You remembered her bringing a couple of them back home your first few months. Those were the nights you sat out in the back screened-in porch watching some movie or show with your earbuds at max volume.

"Dixie, you know I can't stand them," you tell her with a smile and a shake of your head. "Their egos are way too big."

"Wanna know what else is big?" asks Dixie, wiggling her eyebrows. You give her a look of disgust and she laughs.

"I'm telling your momma next time we head home," you threaten, pointing at her.

She laughs again. "We both know you won't, Y/N."

With another roll of your eyes, you head towards another patron waving you down. "What can I help you with, darlin'?"

"Can I get a few shots of tequila, please?" asks the man.

You nod. "Sure thing. Three okay?"

"Yeah, that works."

With a bright smile, you say, "Alrighty!" and get to work. Picking three shot glasses out, you fill them to the brim with tequila. You also put some salt on a plate with a few wedges of lime and pass it to the man. "You got it all?"

He nods, carrying the shots in one hand and the plate with the rest of the fixings in the other. He thanks you before walking off back towards a table.

With a glance to the door, your heart almost stops. You know he's a fighter pilot. He's not wearing a flight suit or a uniform or anything. No, he's just in a white beater with a faded Hawaiian shirt and aviator glasses. But there's something about him that you just know is the epitome of a fighter pilot. You've met enough of them in the year that you've lived in Fightertown, you're confident you can spot one from a mile away.

For a naval pilot, though, there's something different about him. Maybe it's the way he's standing, slightly slouched and not fully upright like so many of the other ones do. Maybe it's the way he's biting the bottom of his lip like he's nervous. Or maybe it's the way he somehow exudes a vibe of...chill. An aura of calmness and relaxation that you can feel from over here.

You watch him spot a group back near the pool table and watch him walk up to them, where Jake is laughing with his fellow pilots. You watch Jake stand up and raise a brow. Does he puff his chest out?

"As I live and breathe," you hear him say with a smirk evident.

The other man, who appears to be the same height as Jake, says nothing. He just shakes his head, pushes his shades up, and leans on the table.

You wonder why he's wearing sunglasses in an already dark bar.

However, you’re quickly snapped out of your fantasy when you see someone else waving you down. With a small blush you hope is mostly invisible in the dim light, you walk over, apologizing.

All throughout the night, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of that pilot. You have no idea what his name is and you’ve never seen him before in your life. But there’s just something about him that makes you yearn. Your eyes yearn to him while you pour another drink and you almost spill a few times, much to the amusement of Penny.

Eventually, you spot Penny's date counting his cash and cards, trying to find a way to pay off his debt. Then he smiles sheepishly, holds his hands up, and the next thing you know, Penny is yelling out, "Overboard, overboard!"

Hangman and a few other airmen who happened to be around the bar grab the man, each having a limb. You've seen this happen plenty of times, and it still makes you laugh, watching another man get thrown out of the bar because he couldn't pay his debt.

It was never anything mean, just playfulness. That's what the bar was. It was playful, it was friendly. It was a place for naval men and women alike to come after a hard day's work of...whatever they did and get a drink and play a game of pool or darts with a friend. It was one of the many things that reminded you of home.

During a short time when things calm down, you lean next to her where she’s chatting with Dixie. “Hey, Pen. Who’s that guy over there by the pool table?”

She looks in your direction and tilts her head. “Y/N, there’s no one over there.”

With a frown, you see that there isn’t anyone over there indeed. Scanning the bar, you search for him. “W…where’d he go?”

Suddenly, the music from the jukebox comes to an abrupt stop and there are cries of dismay and a few curses. But the single note on a piano has you whipping your head in that direction.

That same man is sitting there at the piano, his friends gathered around him. You tilt your head and lean your forearms on the counter, watching as he plays a few notes you almost recognize.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will. But what a thrill."

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!" sings nearly the entire bar, voices blending together perfectly.

You laugh as the pilot continues the song that you now recognize as a song by Jerry Lee Lewis. It's one of your favorites, you remember your grandfather playing it on the record machine he refused to give up.

"I laughed at love cause I thought it was funny. You came along and you moved me, honey. I change my mind. This love is fine."

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

A soft, manicured hand grabs your own and pulls you to the bar. Dixie is smiling, mouth open, and singing along with the rest of the bar. "Kiss me, baby!" She presses a long, exaggerated kiss to your hand and you laugh loudly.

"Mmmm, it feels good!" you sing, grabbing both of her hands as she stands. It's difficult to dance together across a bar, but you make it work. "Hold me, baby!" You bring Dixie up to the edge of the bar and give her an awkward type of hug.

"I wanna love you like a lover should!" she sings with you, cheeks pressed together. "You're fine. So kind!" she pulls away and grabs your shoulders as you wiggle them, sending the two of you side to side, grinning and laughing. "Imma tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!"

You push her away as she picks up an empty beer bottle and uses it as a microphone. That's what you've always loved about Dixie, how she was always so confident in herself.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I get nervous but it sure is fun! Come on baby, you're driving me crazy!"

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

You laugh and stop singing for the piano solo. You take a second to look at the man playing said piano. He makes it look so easy. He's smiling, surrounded by his friends, and you can't see his fingers, but you're sure they making a blur across the keys. His friends howl and holler at him, Fanboy thumps a hand on the wooden instrument. You notice that his sunglasses have slid down as he slides his fingers down the piano, creating a glissando. He smiles at his friends turned fans, clearly enjoying the attention.

You bounce to the music, continuing to watch Dixie attempt to copy what the pilot is doing. She's failing, quite terribly, but she doesn't seem to care.

"Kiss me, baby! Woo, that feels good. Hold me, baby! I wanna love you like a lover should."

You yourself get lost in the music, leaning across to also sing into the empty beer bottle with Dixie, almost like a duet. Your eyes are closed and your cheeks are red, maybe from the heat, maybe from the excitement.

What you don't spot, however, is the gaze that the piano-playing pilot gives you while he sings. He spots you halfway across the bar, how can he not? Hell, he can even hear your voice from over here. There's some kind of drawl to it, one he hasn't quite heard. But your singing is good, almost as good as his. Your friend's voice, not so much, but you don't seem to care, singing along and bouncing your head, a bar towel in one hand.

He finds himself smiling before looking down at the keys, making sure his fingers are in the right spot, even though he knows that they are.

"Come on baby, you're driving me crazy!"

"Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!"

The song finishes off with a few final notes and the bar erupts in cheers and howls, quickly turning to a chant.

"Rooster, Rooster, Rooster, Rooster!"

You tilt your head, clapping as Dixie joins the chant, holding a fist up. That can't be his real name, surely. Perhaps a callsign, like Hangman. Still, you somehow think it’s fitting for a man like him.

The pilot, Rooster, stands and does a cheesy dance. He lifts his arms and moves his hips awkwardly and you laugh at how utterly stupid it looks. You're not sure if you imagine it, but you think that this Rooster character looks directly at you and winks.

But you must be imagining it because the next moment he's leaning back and throwing his arms back before standing up straighter as the chants become faster. You laugh and even begin chanting yourself as he pumps a leg up, exclaiming. He pushes his glasses up with one hand, beer bottle in the other, before looking around the bar and smiling.

The chants die down and after a few minutes, someone plugs the jukebox back in and some song by Elton John begins to play again.

Dixie sits back down, pushing her hair out of her face. "Man, I love this town."

You nod in agreement and move to hand out a couple more beers.

A little after 2 a.m., the bar begins to empty out. You stopped selling alcohol twenty minutes ago and most patrons had left an hour before that. 5 a.m. wake-up call was the next day and you couldn't imagine it being easy. Most days you didn't wake up until after 9.

You and Penny are both closing up together. Dixie had left a long time ago with some young pilot, again. You sighed and rolled your eyes, watching her be all blushy and giggly as he pulled her out of the bar, pretending like it was her first time.

"I swear," you say to Penny, sweeping. "I'm gonna be an aunt one'a these days if she keeps this up."

Penny laughs, continuing to wipe down the bar. "You think so?"

"I know so!" you exclaim, pausing at your area by the pool table. "You should hear her. At least once a week, she brings one of those boys by and they keep at it all night long. That girl has stamina!"

Penny laughs again, loud, like she always does. She covers her mouth with her hand, waving a hand to get you to stop. “I believe you, I believe you!”

With a shrug, you get back to sweeping. “I just hope that they’re done by the time I head back.”

Your boss and friend just laughs and you sense her shaking her head. Silence fills the bar again, the quiet songs on the jukebox providing the only background music. You spot a bottle cap hidden under a table and reach down to pick it up, tossing it in a nearby trash can.

Suddenly, you hear Penny curse and turn your head towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“Amelia just texted,” she answers, setting the rag down to use both hands on her phone. “Says she’s throwing up and has a headache…”

You frown. “Aw, poor girl. Hey, you go on home, take care of her. I can finish closin’ up here.”

She looks at you, head tilted and brows furrowed. “You’re sure?”

You nod, grinning at her. “Of course! I’ve closed up enough. ‘Sides, we’re almost done.”

Penny nods and quickly walks out from behind the bar, giving you a quick hug. “Thank you so much.”

You hug her back. “‘Course.” While she heads to the back to grab her things, you finish sweeping, putting all of the dirt into a dustpan and emptying it before tying up the trash, prepping it to be thrown away after you lock up.

Penny comes back through, jacket over one arm and purse in the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

With a nod, you add before she leaves, “Get her some ginger ale! Works better than Sprite. For me, at least.”

The woman nods and thanks you before leaving. Soon, you hear her car start up and pull out of the gravel parking lot.

You’re alone. For the first time all day, you’re alone and it feels great. With a little smile, you head toward the jukebox, wanting a particular song. Finally, you see it and clap your hands a little before selecting it.

"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene," you sing with Dolly, making your way to the bar to grab the rag and wipe down everything one more time. "I'm begging you, please don't take my man. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don't take him just because you can."

The guitar and the drums give you a nice beat to move to, and you find yourself walking in step with the music. Years of learning to dance in elementary school and dancing at weddings really paid off.

Dolly Parton has always been one of your favorite female artists. She was your first real introduction to music when your Meemaw played her while baking your cookies. It was one of your earliest memories, one you've always cherished since her passing.

"Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain. And I cannot compete with you, Jolene."

You wipe down the tables again. You've had a habit to wipe them down right before you leave, so you can make sure you've gotten everything. You reach the area by the pool tables and rearrange them, putting the pool sticks back in their correct spots and making a neat triangle in the center of the pool tables.

The door opens, and though you can't see who walked in, you know it's not Penny. Thinking it's someone who doesn't realize you're closed, you shout, "Sorry, y'all, we're closed! We're open at five tomorrow!"

Footsteps on the wooden floor echo through the mostly quiet bar. A voice calls out, "Yeah, sorry to bother you, but I think I lost my wallet."

You pause, hands resting on the furry green pool table. That voice. It's familiar yet not. You tilt your head and turn the corner to see whoever it is.

It's him. The piano player from hours ago. Rooster.

And I can easily understand how you can easily take my man. But you don't know what he means to me, Jolene

With a smile, you put on that bright, southern charm that comes so easily and so naturally. "Oh, for sure. I don't believe me or Penny have seen a wallet, but what's it look like?" You tilt your head. "I'll help you look."

He's not wearing his sunglasses anymore, they're hanging from the collar of his white shirt. His eyes look you up and down but from this distance, you can't quite see what color they are. Still, you can see the way his cheeks warm and how he clears his throat. "Thanks," is all that he says. His voice isn't quite deep, but something about it sends your heart thumping.

"What's it look like?" you ask again, heading to the bar to double-check the box that's been dubbed a lost-and-found. Basically, it was where you and Penny dumped things that had been found and not claimed yet. There were a few wallets, but those ones had been there for weeks. There were a few pairs of glasses, both reading and sunglasses. A couple of cards that Penny was waiting to cut up and even the random shoe. You had found that one, and you and Penny spent twenty minutes arguing about who could walk out while missing a shoe.

Rooster meets you at the bar, leaning his forearms on the surface. You take the box out and place it next to him. You definitely don't linger on how damn strong his arms look and how tanned they are.

"It's dark brown," Rooster explains, sifting through the box. "Got my initials stamped on it. It's thick as shit, I throw everything in it."

With a light smile, you ask, "What's your initials?"

"B.B.," he answers.

With a click of your tongue, you walk out from across the bar to search the booths and tables. You didn't run across it during your sweep or wipedown, but you could've missed it. "Those stand for somethin' other than Rooster?"

You hear him chuckle and it sends a jolt down your spine. "They stand for Bradley Bradshaw."

"Oh." You smile, putting up the chairs as you search. "See, that makes more sense."

He laughs this time. Suddenly it stops and he asks, "What the fuck is a shoe doing in here?"

With a snort, you turn to him from across the room. He's holding up said shoe, an old and beat-up white Nike Air Force 1. It's been there for a week, and you and Penny hadn't bothered to throw it away.

You answer him with an innocent smile and a shrug. "No idea. Penny found it last week, under a table. Asked her what we should do with it, she just threw it in the box."

Rooster chuckles and throws it back in. "It's not in here."

You lift another chair up and flip it over, placing it on the table. You give the man a look and say, "Help me find it then, princess."

He gives you a teasing smile and asks, "Princess?"

With a cheeky grin, you give him no reply and continue to look. You've always been a tease, ever since college. Your friends always told you how a classmate had gotten a crush on you just by one look. Whenever you met someone cute in a bar or at a party, you would give them a look, flirt with them for a few minutes, and then disappear. It wasn't something you really did on purpose (at least not all of the time), it was just something that happened.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. I’m begging of you, please don’t take my man. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Please don’t take him even though you can. Jolene, Jolene.

For the next several minutes, you and Rooster look for his wallet. You stack all of the chairs up and he searches between the booths and around on the floor.

You search near the piano, running a finger along the keys. This piano is incredibly out of tune and old as dirt, but when he played, it sounded brand new.

“Where’d you learn to play?” you ask, turning to see him by the dart board.

He meets your gaze and something in his eyes change. There’s a flash of sadness behind those hazels. You can see his eye color now, and it reminds you of acorns in early October mornings.

“My mom taught me,” he answers.

The jukebox clicks and the song changes. A Johnny Lee song plays, his voice nostalgic and comforting.

Well, I spent a lifetime lookin' for you. Single bars and good time lovers were never true. Playing a fool's game, hopin' to win. And tellin' those sweet lies and losin' again.

You smile, sweetly. “That’s sweet.”

He nods, glancing at the floor. “Yeah. Apparently my dad knew how to play and she wanted to teach me.”

“We’re y’all close?” you ask, wiping a stripe of dirt off of the instrument. It’s thinner than you thought it would’ve been.

Something in the atmosphere shifts and you look up at Rooster. He’s staring at the green dart in his hands, turning it between his fingers. His brows are furrowed and are his shoulders shaking?

“Bradley?” you ask softly, tenderly.

His head snaps up to you and he quickly says, “Call me Rooster.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause everyone else does.”

Biting your lip, you tell him, “I ain’t everyone.”

I'll bless the day I discover another heart, lookin' for love.

Finally, his face breaks into a grin, his mustache making his smile look ever better. “You know, you’ve got a pretty way of speaking.”

“Yeah?” You walk towards him, hands clasped behind your back. “What about it do ya like?”

He throws the dart at the board and it lands in the inner circle. Then he turns to face you, walking towards you. “I like the way you hold your vowels out. And how you shorten words that don’t need to be shortened.”

You smile. Many people on this side of the states have complimented your accent. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But something about it coming from him, Bradley, made it feel different. He was a pilot. An attractive one at that. Tall, blonde, dark and lean. That pornstash your mother always found sexy on Tom Selleck you now found sexy on him. The way he’d lick his lips, always getting the bottom of it wet. Your mind went to the gutter and you wondered how scratchy it would feel somewhere else.

"Where are you from?" he asks, walking closer.

"Georgia," you answer. "Small town named Pearson, it's right by Savannah."

He nods, finally stopping in front of you. He's tall and he looks down at you with a small smile. You're not so close that you're practically touching, but you're close enough to smell him. And you note that he smells like the ocean and sweat and beer. Somehow, all of those scents at once make you weak in the knees.

"How long have you been in Fightertown?"

"Little over a year."

"Have you, uh, met anyone in that year?"

With a smirk, you say, "Nah," and lift up the wallet you found under the piano bench. "Fighter pilots just don't do it for me."

Bradley's face twists into a smile of sorts and he takes the initialed wallet from your head. "What makes you think I'm a pilot?"

Walking away from him, you say over your shoulder, "Call it a hunch."

Lookin' for traces of what I'm dreaming of, hoping to find a friend and a lover. I'll bless the day I discover another heart lookin' for love.

Your nerves are on fire and you can barely feel your legs. But you still keep walking even though you know his eyes are on you. You're nearly done closing up. You just need to take the trash out and turn the lights off before locking the doors.

Part of you is excited you're closing up. It's past two in the morning, you woke up before eight and you're absolutely exhausted. You smell like beer and other various alcoholic beverages. You want to take a shower and pass out for the next nine hours.

But another part of you is upset because you know your conversation with Bradley is coming to a close.

"Do you live here?" asks Bradley, eyes following you as you take the trash up and tie it at the top. "Or are you just visiting?" He goes to the jukebox and turns it off, sensing that you're nearly done.

"I live here," you answer with a nod. "Come on, I want to go home." There's a pile of mostly empty trash bags by the door that Penny was kind enough to put there for you to grab on the way out and you move to them after grabbing your purse and your phone charger that was in the back. "Hey, don't you got early wake-up call?" You make your way towards the door, sure you look awkward carrying four garbage bags over your shoulder. Still, Bradley says nothing while you shut the lights off in descending order before walking out the door.

"Yeah," Bradley admits, holding the door open for you. He even takes the keys from your hands and locks up the doors to the bar for you.

"Thank ya," you say, breathing a sigh of relief at the warm ocean breeze that greets your face. The air smells salty and slightly fishy, but you've never wanted to smell anything more. "Well, what are you doing here still, then?"

He slowly follows you towards the dumpster at the far corner of the parking lot. Normally, you'd be nervous outside at night, but tonight, you're not by yourself. You've got a big, strong navy man to protect you. Not like you'd need it.

"I needed my wallet," he says, honestly. Then he adds, the grin in his voice audible, "Plus I'd never pass the chance to talk to a pretty lady."

"Oh, you're quite charming!" you call, tossing the bags in the dumpster, thankful trash day is tomorrow. Wiping your hands on your shorts, you make your way back to your car, noticing that he parked next to you. "You must make all the ladies swoon."

He scoffs and throws the keys across his car back to you. You catch them in your fist and dangle them around your middle finger. "Maybe. Not enough to keep them, that is."

You tilt your head, heart thumping fast and face flushed from all of this flirting. "Shame. You seem like a catch." Throwing him a grin, you open the door of your old, beat-up truck your father gifted to you the moment you turned fifteen. "Go to sleep, Bradley!" you call, starting the vehicle up.

He smiles, watching you. "Yes, ma'am."

With a small shake of your head, you turn the volume of your radio up just a bit. Some random Miranda Lambert song is playing and you back your truck up, throwing an arm over the seat to watch where you're going. When you're far enough back to clear Bradley's tailgate, you crank the wheel to the right, gravel crunching under the tires.

Bradley is in his car, but you still smile at where he was and tear out of the empty parking lot into the even emptier streets. Taking a left, you head home, exhaustion finally catching up. Your eyelids grow heavy and you yawn. Still, you don't miss the bright red taillights of Bradley's car taking off in the opposite direction of you.

With a satisfied and triumphant whoop, you beat your hands on the top of the steering wheel. Your heart is racing and suddenly your exhaustion vanishes as you recall the last twenty minutes.

Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster. What a character. Piano player, singer, flirt, yet still kind and charming. Chivalrous, almost. You have no idea how long he'll even be in Fightertown. Most people stay for a few weeks until eventually being deployed elsewhere.

You hope that he'll stop at the bar every night and lose his wallet again.

#top gun 2 #top gun maverick #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #x reader #rooster x reader #southern!reader #rooster x southern!reader #rooster x female!reader #originalwork #Spotify

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: You (Ann) meet your potential employer

A/N: Hello lovelies,

As promised here is the second chapter for The Razor Crest Seven, I have to say I'm thoroughly enjoying writing this story. Anyways, hope everyone is having a wonderful day. Have an amazing weekend.

Thank you to @firstofficerwiggles for being an amazing beta, and @saradika for the dividers.

Love oo.

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warning: Slight flirting, I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

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Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE RAZOR CREST SEVEN

CHAPTER TWO

Cobb offered one last smile before motioning towards, the door, “Come on, I’ll introduce you, the rest is up to you.”

“Just remind me of the job”

“Farmhand slash housekeeper - which means, helping in the barn with the nerf, nunas and horses, you know cleaning the pens, feeding them, cooking meals for him and Grogu, cleaning the house, laundry, you know just helping out.”

“Servant”

“No. Farmhand slash housekeeper. Again if it’s too much, you don’t feel comfortable…”

“I know. I know.” 

I took in a deep breath, opening the door as I got out of the truck, another location, another place, another name, god when will this ever end. We walked up to the porch, the air in Aq Vetina was different, crisper, barely any pollution, there was a scent in the air of pine in the air, it was invigorating, almost felt like going back in time. A breeze blew in sending a slight chill through my body, “It’s colder than it was in town.”

“Yeah that’s because he’s closer to the mountains. Here borrow my jacket, there’s a few shops in town and the next town over where you can find clothes more suitable to the area” Cobb stated as he took off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders, adjusting it “looks good on you” he smirked. 

I felt my face heat at his attention, it been a while since anyone treated me with kindness or showed any sort of attention my way, but I couldn’t cross that line, not with him.

“You can’t help but hit on any living thing in a twenty mile radius, can you Marshall?” 

“It’s not flirting, if I’m being a gentleman” he adjusted the collar, smiling the entire time. Even taking the trouble to fix my hair.

“Pretty sure, what you’re doing right now is called flirting, not being a gentleman” a deep and soothing voice called over to us from behind me.

“What can I do for you Marshall?” 

I turned to look at the man who was leaning against the post on the balcony. I didn’t even hear the porch door swing open, much less any footsteps, considering how tall and broad he was. Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting someone who was so … well … who was as good looking as the man at the door. When Cobb described the rancher, I just assumed he’d be some country weirdo with a bald head. I definitely wasn’t expecting a man who had gorgeous dark curls, with a kind face that was accentuated with a dark moustache, which made his warm brown eyes all the more striking against his tan skin. 

“This is the person, I told you was looking for work” Vanth rested his hands on my shoulders directing me towards the man in front, “you remember, the one I mentioned a few days ago.” 

The man on the porch eyed me carefully, it felt awkward, as though he was scrutinizing my character simply by looking me over. He didn’t make feel as though he was ogling me, more as though he was assessing my skills from the way I carried myself. 

“Have you ever worked on a farm before?” His tone was full of annoyance and doubt, even his face contorted into an expression of disbelief, “Do you even know what it takes to live out here?”

We closed the distance stepping onto the porch, Vanth refusing to leave my side, his hand not shifting from my shoulder, which surprisingly, I was thankful for. The man's features were more prominent the closer we got, as good looking as he had appeared when I first looked at him, moving closer only amplified his attractiveness. My stomach felt knotted from the intensity of his gaze as his eyes never left my face.

I swallowed the excessive amount of saliva that began to form due to my nervousness. I cleared my throat hoping it would steady my nerves.

“Well enough, to know you should at least introduce yourself if you don’t want to prove you're a Grade-A level jerk” I stated, surprised by the words and fire that came out of my mouth. 

He looked taken aback for a minute before a smirk found its way on his lips. 

“Good point. Name’s, Din Djarin, nice to meet you” he held out his hand. Was there anything about this man, that wasn’t big in some way or form? It took all my strength not to look shocked as his hand completely encapsulated my own. Despite the coarseness of his hand and the calluses that rubbed against my skin, as someone who had led a life full of physical work, it was warm and comforting.

“Ann Jones, friends call me Annie”

He dropped my hand as though something had stung him, “Well … come in Ann,” he motioned to follow him, he let out a huff as he looked at Cobb, “might as well get this interview over with. Marshall, want a cup of coffee? Just put on a fresh pot”

“Sure” Cobb tried to fight back the grin that wanted to break out. Despite Din’s gruff exterior, he had no doubt he was going to hire Ann. He stepped in, taking off his hat, wiping his boots on the boot cleaner just at the entrance of the foyer. Cobb watched as Ann tried to wipe her sneakers, following his movements, only to nearly fall backwards. Cobb’s arm wrapped around her back keeping her steady and upright, “Just slip them off it’s fine” he whispered, trying to help her out where he could. 

“Thanks” I mumbled as I left my sneakers by the front door, moving out of his arms.

“Cobb, you know where the coffee is” Din announced without looking back, “Ann, follow me to the living room?” He motioned with two fingers over his shoulder. 

“Thanks Din” Cobb shouted as he headed to the kitchen, a subtle smile resting on his lips.

Din took a seat in his armchair, it been declared his by Camilla after they were married all those years ago. His thumb instinctively rubbing the fabric she had picked out, a reminder she was gone. He cleared his throat focusing on the woman now standing in his living room, wearing the jacket of the Marshall’s, she was practically swimming in it, he motioned for her to take a seat on the couch, “Have a seat”

“Thanks, Mr. Djarin”

“It’s just Din. No one calls me Mr. Djarin.”

“Alright, Din” I don’t know why but the longer I looked at him, the easier I felt around him, even his good looks weren’t affecting me as much.

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@littlemisspascal@sprout-fics@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @tortor-mcgee @littlemisspascal

#din djarin series #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din x reader #western din #cowboy din djarin #western din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian #cobb vanth #grogu #mandalorian and grogu #peli motto #fennec shand #boba fett #mando fic #mando fanfiction #mando x reader #mando #the mandolarian

[starrgaziinggg]

BEGIN AGAIN | hwang hyunjin

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: chapter twenty eight

You were fully aware Hyunjin wasn't keen on being on planes; he complained every time he had to travel for work trips and meetings, texting the group chat right until the last minute to keep his mind off it. What you didn't realise was to what extent he was scared of planes, but as you sat beside him, no feeling in your right hand, you understood.

Of course Hyunjin had bought first class tickets for the two of you. It was the first time you'd ever flown first class, and you had to admit you were enjoying the new lavish lifestyle that came with being the girlfriend of CEO Hwang Hyunjin. It was all a bonus though. Despite the fact it had taken you a while to realise your feelings, you'd been in love with the man sitting beside you since he was a cocky, idiotic teenage boy with no idea what he wanted to do in life.

"Fucking hell," you hear him whisper under his breath as the plane bumps, making you jolt in your seats. You have to physically refrain from laughing at the poor man. You didn't mind planes, having flown back and forth from Korea and Australia for years, so you were Hyunjin's emotional support for the journey. Honestly, you were Hyunjin's emotional support for the trip overall. He hadn't explicitly said anything, but you could read him well at this point and could practically feel the nerves radiating from him.

You understood how he felt. If you were thrust into your father's life, meeting his other family after all this time, you'd be a mess. As much as Hyunjin resented his mum for leaving him, you knew he held her so close to his heart and all he wanted was to fix things. So, you were making it your mission to make things as easy and stress free as possible for him.

Chan had forced Hyunjin to leave his work phone at home, promising to take care of any and all matters that would arise over the weekend. You were thankful for this, since you knew how much Hyun loved his job and would do anything to make sure it was running smoothly. This, right now, was more important though, especially because of everything that had happened with his dad recently.

"Why don't you put your earphones in and try get some sleep?" You suggest, giving his hand a squeeze. "It's a long flight, and we'll be arriving in the morning, so we'll be super jet lagged."

"You don't mind?" He asks you, wide eyed and anxious. "I don't want you to be bored because I'm asleep."

"Of course I don't mind, silly. I'll just read my book," you say, waving the book you'd bought in the airport in-front of him. "I'll even let you rest your head on my shoulder."

"Sold," he says with a smile, pulling his earphones out his bag and connecting them to his phone. He places his head on your shoulder almost instantly, his hair tickling your chin. He'd decided to cut it really short again and dyed it black, which you absolutely loved since it reminded you of when you first met him. You leaned your own head on top of his, getting comfortable which wasn't hard since the first class chairs were like clouds.

Using one hand, since your other was being used by your clingy boyfriend, you settled into the book you were reading. You eventually dozed off when you felt Hyunjin's breathing slow, indicating he'd fallen asleep. Luckily, the two of you practically slept through the whole flight, waking up with just an hour or two to go.

You'd never admit it to Hyunjin, but you were honestly just as nervous as he was to meet his mum. Sure, you'd met her before, but back then you were just Hyunjin's friend. Meeting her as his girlfriend was something else entirely. You'd never met a boyfriend's parents before, the reason for that mostly because you'd never had a boyfriend long enough, but still. You wanted to make a good impression, whilst still putting on a brave face because you knew Hyun would need the emotional support.

You were surprised when you got off the plane, your hand still enclosed with Hyunjin's, and his mum was waiting to pick the two of you up with a sign reading, 'my darling son and his beautiful girlfriend.' If there was one thing you remembered about Hyunjin's mum it was her kindness, a trait her son had fully inherited. You felt Hyunjin tense up slightly at the sight of her, but her warm smile and outstretched arms were enough to break his demeanour.

You dropped his hand to let him hug her for the first time in years. You watched from the side as she squeezed him, tears spilling from her eyes as she looked up at her son. Hyunjin was just the same, looking down at his mum with so much adoration even you felt like crying.

"You're taller - how are you taller? And ten times more handsome! God, I've missed you," she said to him in Korean, which surprised you. You and Hyunjin had spent the last week brushing up on your English together, since his mum's family were American and didn't speak Korean.

"I've missed you too, mum," Hyun replied, pulling away from her slightly to look at you. "Obviously you've met before, but this is my girlfriend."

Your chest felt heavy as you smiled and awkwardly waved your hand, practically flying when Hyunjin's mum pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you of your mum - homely and kind.

"It's lovely to see you again!" She said to you with a beaming smile. "Now, before we start getting too sentimental in the airport, let's get you guys back to the house. The kids are desperate to meet you, as is Mark."

Mark, you'd been informed, was Hyunjin's mum's boyfriend. They'd been living together for years, and Hyun had told you he wouldn't be surprised if they got engaged soon. He'd also told you about his step siblings, Ellie and George, who you could tell he was excited to meet. You couldn't imagine growing up in a big house with no siblings and parents who never saw eye to eye like Hyunjin did, and you were so excited for him to finally have a proper family.

Hyunjin's mum's car was nothing short of lush. It was almost as expensive as Hyunjin's himself, which gave you an indication of what their house would look like, but when you arrived after the short drive you were nothing short of stunned. It was huge, much bigger than you'd anticipated, with so much land around it. It made your old student apartment look like a hole in the ground.

"Here we are," his mum announced as she parked in the driveway, getting out the car to help with your bags. You were only staying two nights, so you hadn't brought much. You would have loved to stay longer, but Hyunjin had work and you didn't want to put his mum out for too long.

When you walked through the grand entryway, his mum called out in English, and quickly her boyfriend and step kids appeared. "This is Mark," she nodded towards the tall man beside her. He was handsome, dark hair, beard and glasses and smiled warmly at Hyunjin and yourself as you smiled back. "And his children George and Ellie. This is my son and his girlfriend." 

You could tell the two younger children were kind of shy around Hyunjin, never having met their step brother before, and your introverted boyfriend was probably just as nervous. Ellie appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen, whereas George looked only nine or ten. The younger of the two was the first to break the silence, shyly smiling up at Hyunjin.

"Do you play football," he asked him, and you almost laughed at Hyunjin's adorable smile.

"I do, I love playing football," he replied, and you just knew they'd get along well. Hyun was always trying to get you to play with him since he used to play a lot in high school, and you'd grown quite fond of it. Hyunjin nods towards you, "But she's better."

You almost forgot to reply, too enamoured by how well Hyunjin was speaking in English to focus. You look to the younger boy with a smile. "Oh, he's totally lying."  

"I'm better than George, too," Ellie spoke up, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Why don't we have a competition later? Boys v girls?"

You smile warmly at her, nodding your head. "Sounds like a plan."

"We want in on this too," Hyunjin's mum said with a grin, looking towards Mark. "Us three v you three before dinner, winner gets to choose dessert?"

George clapped his hands at that, grinning like a madman, his dad laughing at him "You're on," Mark raised an eyebrow, turning towards you and Hyunjin. "Why don't you guys get settled into your room and then go to the pool with Ellie and George?"

"Please, can you," Ellie looked towards you, pleading eyes. "George never wants to play mermaids with me."

You laughed, watching as the younger girls eyes lit up as you did so. You loved that she wasn't going through her bratty teenage phase like you did at her age, instead embracing her child like side. "Of course I'll play mermaids with you, I haven't been swimming in years."

"C'mon, I'll show you to your room upstairs," Hyun's mum clapped, taking some of your bags and motioning for you to follow her upstairs.

Ellie and George followed you both up, heading towards their rooms to get changed for the pool, whilst you and Hyun were led by his mum to a room on the other end of the huge hallway. She pushed the door open to a gorgeous room, balcony that overlooked their back garden, pool in view. This was the life you could only ever have dreamed of living.

"Here, hope this is okay for you both! I'll be making lunch around one, but if you’re hungry now there's plenty of food you can help yourself to," she motioned downstairs to you both, placing your bags on the floor, turning to her son. "We can have a proper catch up later since I know how excited the kids were to spend time with you, but I'm so, so happy you're here. This is your home too, so please make yourselves comfortable."

She left with a wave, heading back down the stairs. Hyunjin turned to you quickly after she left, pulling your wrist gently so he could engulf your body with his own. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him rest his chin on the top of your head.

"I'm so happy," he mumbles after a couple minutes, running a hand through your hair and fiddling with the ends in his fingers. "I don't know why I was so nervous."

"It was normal for you to be nervous," you answer him, pulling away only slightly to look at him, moving a piece of black hair out of his eyes. "But they're so lovely, Hyun. I'm so happy for you."

"Hm, aren't they? George reminds me so much of myself at his age. Football was all I cared about," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's get changed and head down. Did you know I'm a really good swimmer?"

You laugh at his random, cocky announcement as you unpack your bags. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"No, not really," he answers honestly, which you roll your eyes at. "Did you know I love you, by the way?"

"Nah, wasn't aware," you answer back, shaking your head absentmindedly. "Might have to tell me a couple more times."

"I hate you," he fires back, typical bratty Hyunjin, narrowing his eyes as you laugh at him.

"No you don't."

"No," he replies, his scowl slowly turning into a smile. "I don't."

It doesn't take you long to get changed into a tight fit swimming costume. You hadn't bought a new one since you were a teenager, so things fit a bit more snuggly than they did back then. Hyunjin had told you he absolutely did not mind one bit with a smirk, so you hit him on the arm.

Ellie and George were already in the pool when the two of you got down. Hyunjin had walked in-front of you, which was a fatal mistake.

"Is it cold?" you asked him sweetly as he dipped his toe in the water, wincing at the temperature.

"Yeah, it -" he did not have time to finish his sentence, being quickly submerged by water as you cheekily pushed him in, the two younger kids howling with laughter after you did so. You stood and the side of the pool, arms crossed smugly as he reappeared, shaking his hair like a wet dog and pushing it back out his face.

"Low blow," he laughed, an outstretched arm. "Help me up."

You shook your head fondly, grabbing his arm to pull him out the water. What a stupid decision that turned out to be, when Hyunjin pulled your arm forwards so that you too fell into the pool with a splash. You coughed on the water as you laughed, unable to stay mad at him for long. It didn't stop you from attempting to drown him though, pushing his shoulders under the water with all your might. It was a futile attempt though, Hyunjin being ten times stronger than you didn't help.

You spent the rest of the morning playing mermaids with Ellie, splashing about the water like crazy people while Hyunjin and George watched on with expressions you could only describe as scared. You played volleyball, had races, and overall had so much fun playing with Hyunjin's step siblings. Hyunjin had been right, winning every race you had. You don't think his smile faltered once the whole time you were in the pool, and you honestly couldn't have been happier. Hyunjin deserved the whole world and more, and it made your heart full to see him so happy.

You dried off when lunch was announced, heading to the outdoor table where Hyunjin's mum had set up a gorgeous spread of food. The sun was beaming down on you all, a great contrast to the weather in South Korea. The boys had been asking you and Hyun about how your trip was going, to which the two of you had sent through an influx of pictures. The boys had been miserable, since the gorgeous summer sunshine had turned into heavy rain over the week.

Jisung had gone as far as to try to extend himself an invite to the trip, which Minho had hit him for, telling him not to interrupt and promising to take him somewhere just as good. When Jisung had asked where, Minho had said the cinema, so you could guess he was still sulking.

"This is great," Hyunjin commented as you'd all sat down, taking the food you wanted.

"Oh, this is nothing compared to what you'll be eating tonight," Hyunjin's mum winked.

"She's been preparing this surprise meal since you told her you'd be coming," Mark  pointed out, which you could tell embarrassed his girlfriend a bit, but you could see the pride in Mark's eyes as he said it.

"We can't wait. Hyunjin definitely didn't inherit his cooking skills from you, that's for sure," you point out with a grin, making them laugh as Hyunjin shot you a glare.

"Like you're any better," he fired back.

"Maybe you could teach us some recipes sometime?" You directed the question to Hyunjin's mum, who's eyes lit up, nodding her head.

"Of course I can," she stopped eating momentarily to look between you and Hyunjin, her gaze full of satisfaction. "Ellie loves baking with me, don't you?"

Ellie nods her head at you. "I love baking, especially brownies."

You and Hyunjin share a warm look. "Our friend Felix loves baking brownies too," he tells her. "You guys should come visit us in South Korea sometime so you can compare them."

Ellie looks to her dad expectantly, George too. "We've been talking about wanting to go to South Korea for ages!"

Mark nods. "Once El found out about your company, Hyunjin, she started listening to some of the music that your groups make. She's been desperate to see them."

"That can definitely be arranged," Hyunjin says to Ellie warmly. "We'll sort something out."

You feel like your heart might burst this trip.

Once you're all stuffed full of food, George practically drags Hyunjin over to a large bit of flat land with football nets set up, whereas you help Hyunjin's mum tidy up the dishes and plates. You do it without even thinking, and you can't help but miss Jeongin as you do it, your usual cleaning partner in crime back in Korea and sending you message after message to keep you updated on the ongoings back home.

Hyunjin's mum thanks you as you bring the dishes through to their huge, lavish kitchen. "You're such a sweetheart," she comments, placing the dishes into the dishwasher as she watches George and Hyunjin kick the football around together. You can't help but eye up your incredibly handsome boyfriend, shirtless as he fakes falling over in front of his younger brother to let him get the ball off of him. "You know, I was worried about how well he'd get on with El and George, but you're all getting along better than I could have imagined. Your English is fantastic!"

"Thank you," you replied, passing her some more dishes. "We've been practicing."

"Mm, I can tell. Hyunjin's always understood it, but he's much better at articulating what he wants to say than the last time I saw him. I take it that's your doing, since your mum's in Australia?"

You nod your head in response, scraping some food into the bin. "Yeah, I speak English with her most of the time just so I don't lose the language, so Hyunjin speaks English to her too."

"Have they met yet?"

"No, not yet," you answer with a shake of your head. "They've FaceTimed a couple times, but they'll meet in December since my mum's visiting then."

"Bet Hyun's shitting himself," his mum says boldly, making you laugh. She joins in too, "He was always such a shy kid. Don't get me wrong, he can be very loud and funny, but only when he's around people he cares about. He seems to be so at peace when he's around you, it's so endearing to watch."

You blush at her words, unable to take the compliments.

"Want to know a secret?" She asks you slyly.

"Of course," you reply, giving her the last plate to fill the dishwasher.

"I knew he was head over heels for you back when you were kids. Honestly, the way he looked at you is the way every girl dreams of being looked at, it was so obvious. Took him long enough to do something about it," she laughs, leaning back on the kitchen counter after she puts the dishwasher on.

"That's not entirely his fault, since Chris told him not to come anywhere near me," you reply, giving her an insight into your relationship. She smiles all knowingly, nodding her head.

"Right he was, to do that. Everything's worked out perfectly."

Ellie comes into the kitchen at this point, walking up to you. "You coming to get changed? George and Hyunjin want to start the football match."

"Yep, coming," you reply, looking back to Hyunjin's mum.

"Me too," she answers, and the three of you walk upstairs to get changed into more appropriate clothing for the game. You couldn't have asked to get on better with Hyunjin's family, but what could you say. They were just as amazing as Hyunjin himself, and you realise you had nothing to stress over.

Hyunjin and George were already sweating by the time you get downstairs, lying in a heap on the grass. You laugh at them, tapping Hyunjin’s leg with your foot.

“Tired out already?” You say with a raised brow, challenging him. He almost jumps out his skin to stand up, acting as though he was fine.

“Not at all,” he replies nonchalantly. Once Hyunjin’s mum and Mark join, the six of you split into boy v girl and start a game. You’re glad Hyunjin’s family are just as competitive as you are, since you’re all taking it seriously. There’s some definite rule breaking (not that the rules were very solid in the first place) when Hyunjin’s mum attempts to trip Mark up and when you may or may not have whispered something very dirty in Hyunjin’s ear to steal the ball off him.

The score ends up being 5-3 in favour of the guys when you finally call it quits, all of you too tired to function by the end of the match. It’s not too much of a loss, though, since George decided upon ice cream cake for dessert and Ellie offers to drive to the shops to pick one up for you all.

Mark wasn’t lying when he told you Hyunjin’s mum had been working on the meal she was preparing since last week, as after a shower you’re faced with probably the best spread of food you’ve ever seen in your life. It puts every Friday night dinner you’ve had to shame. As big as Hyunjin’s mothers house is, the dining room is so cosy and homely, you feel instantly welcomed and at home.

“I hope you all enjoy it,” she says wearily, finally sitting down to eat after placing the final dish on the table. It doesn’t take a second for everyone to dig in, and you think it’s definitely true that food brings people together.

Once you’re literally stuffed to the brim, unable to eat another morsel, Ellie brings out the ice cream cake she bought and you decide you have just enough room for dessert. You tell Hyunjin he will probably need to roll you to bed tonight, which he snickers at.

Later on, you end up outside on the comfortable outdoor seating, having a glass of wine with Ellie, who definitely is not of legal age to drink but also doesn’t seem to care. Hyunjin and his mum were sat round the outdoor table you ate at earlier, deep in conversation. You’d been glancing over at them every so often, your protective nature over Hyunjin seemingly taking over. He looked as though he had tears in his eyes, but you didn’t want to interrupt as they seemed to be talking through everything.

“She’s been desperate to see Hyunjin for as long as she’s been in my life,” Ellie says, catching you glance at them, causing you to jump. “She felt terrible about leaving him, still does. I heard her talking to my dad once, literally bawling her eyes out because she said she felt like she was missing out on watching her boy grow up into a man.”

It makes you want to cry, hearing that. “Hyunjin will tell her she was right to leave,” you say to the younger girl, who you know you’ll miss as soon as you go back to South Korea. “He’s selfless like that. No matter how much he wishes she’d have stayed, he will never take it out on her.”

Ellie hums, taking a sip of her wine and making a face. “Okay, I was trying to be cool by drinking wine, but this is revolting. Why do you people drink this?”

You laugh at her, taking a drink of your own. “I used to think the same thing, but eventually you just end up starting to enjoy it.”

She makes another disgusted face, opting to down the rest of her drink. “You and Hyunjin are really cute together, if you don’t mind me saying. I wish I had a girlfriend that would take care of me like you take care of him.” You blush at this, unable to help it, as Ellie continues. “Mom said you were friends when you were younger, how did you start going out?”

“Oh, it’s a long story,” you chuckle, leaning back into your chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. “Short version is that we met through a mutual friend at around seventeen, then were friends since then. We secretly had a huge crush on each-other but neither of us knew. Then, said friend set us up on a blind date and we went through a lot of crap until we decided to stop being idiots and date, but turns out Hyunjin actually set up the blind date the whole time.”

“Christ,” Ellie laughs, acting mind blown. “That’s something out a movie.”

“You’re telling me,” you reciprocate, joining in the laughter as you finish off your wine. You catch Hyunjin and his mum standing up as they hug, almost able to hear the crying from where you are, but you see them both smiling. You leave them to it, turning back to Ellie. “What do you think of your new brother?”

“I was kinda intimidated at first,” she says honestly. “Mom told me he was a CEO millionaire man and I was like, holy shit. But he’s actually a bit of a dork.”

“He’s a total dork,” you giggle, smiling at the man in question as he wipes his teary eyes whilst walking towards you with a grin. His mum gives you all a smile and says goodnight as she past you into the house.

“What are you two talking about,” he questions with a glare, walking over to your chair and standing beside it while he ruffles your hair, keeping his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Oh, just bitching about you,” you reply with an evil grin, which Ellie reciprocates with a laugh. “You ready for bed?”

“Yeah, if you are. It’s gotten late,” he points out, checking the time on his watch.

“Okay dokey,” you reply stupidly, standing up with Ellie before the three of you walk inside the sliding doors to the house. Ellie locks them behind you, saying goodnight when you part ways at the landing upstairs.

You spend next hour just holding Hyunjin in bed as he tells you what he was talking to his mum about. She pretty much told him everything, the nitty gritty details about why she decided to leave and how hard it was, why she couldn’t bring herself to message Hyunjin as she felt she’d let him down as a parent. It got super emotional super fast, but it was a talk they’d needed to have for a long time, and you could tell it was a huge weight off Hyunjin’s shoulders as he let it all out to you.

He fell asleep on your chest, worn out and jet lagged, your hand lightly scratching at his hair. You were utterly shattered too, but you fell asleep with a smile on your face all the same, thinking about how lucky you were to be holding to man of your dreams as he slept in your arms after such a perfect day.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE HERE!

#bang chan #changbin #felix lee #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #jeongin #hyunjin imagines #lee know #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids #seungmin #stray kids x you #hwang hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #skz #skz fluff #skz lino #skz smut

[doeilovr]

One Late Night

-> CEO Jeno x reader, fluff, ~ 600 words, no warnings

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"Y/N?"

You heard a voice in the distance and felt a light tap on your shoulder.

"Y/N!"

The light tap turned into a hand shaking you by your shoulder until you finally woke up and lifted your head.

Oh no.

You sat up straight in your chair and looked for the source of the voice. Next to you, still holding your shoulder, stood your boss. Lee Jeno.

His dark hair was styled neatly, revealing his undercut and he wore his usual black suit and black tie.

"Sir", you shouted a little too loud, quickly fixing your hair and clothes as you stood up.

"Woah, easy", Mr. Lee chuckled, finally taking his hand off your shoulder and leaving a tingly feeling behind.

You were working overtime at the office once again when you must have fallen asleep. Embarrassed, you pressed your lips together and looked down to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir", you apologized.

"For what, sleeping?" A warm laughter filled the empty office space. "It's quiet late so I understand."

"Still, it's unprofessional." You felt guilty and quiet embarrassed about your boss finding you asleep at your desk.

"Honestly", he started, "you're the most professional among all of us."

You looked up in surprise. Did Lee Jeno just compliment you?

His gaze softened even more when your eyes met. "It's true. I can't think of anyone more hardworking. I give you all these difficult tasks and ask you to do the most ridiculous things, like getting me ramen from the convenience store or picking up my dry cleaning."

You chuckled unconsciously, being reminded of the time you ran around the city like a crazy person trying to complete all the tasks in time.

Jeno shrugged, "and it's not even your job, you know. On top of that I have never seen you complain even just one second. I mean, it's Friday evening and you waited for me to leave first."

You nodded slowly, finding yourself enjoy all these kind words from your usually very cold and intimidating boss.

Mr. Lee tilted his head to the side, "even now, you don't complain or yell at me for keeping your here. I think that's pretty admirable."

"Really", you almost whispered.

"Really", Mr. Lee whispered back the same way.

"Thank you." You couldn't help but smile at him.

Jeno scratched the back of his head. "No, thank you! Actually, maybe as a thank you I could take you out to dinner some time?"

You raised your eyebrows at him, "dinner? That would be cool, yeah, I mean great."

Jeno chuckled, "for now though, we should just go home. Please", he gestured towards the exit, "go ahead and enjoy your weekend. You deserve it!"

"Of course", you nodded, "that sounds great too."

"Cool", Mr. Lee copied you.

You grabbed your jacket and bag, turning back to Mr. Lee one last time before leaving.

"Then I'll see you on Monday."

"Yes", Jeno smiled, "see you then, Y/N."

You chuckled, feeling shy and nervous and all kinds of things. "Bye." You awkwardly waved at Jeno, before heading towards the elevators and disappearing around a corner.

Jeno stayed behind, staring off down the now completely empty office. His eyes slowly wandered back to your desk, where you were sleeping soundly just a couple minutes ago.

He felt a little bad that you were so exhausted. If only you knew that he did all this to keep you by his side.

Jeno shrugged, a smile spreading on his lips when he remembered that he finally got the chance to ask you on a date.

"Cool", he repeated to himself. "Very cool."

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a/n: I'm back and I bring you a very little Jeno CEO blurb.. I hope you enjoy it and I hope you have a good day or night :3 love you <3

taglist: @shrutiajit

#nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct jeno #nct jeno x reader #lee jeno x you #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno x reader #lee jeno #jeno lee #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #ceo jeno #jeno ceo #jeno office #nct office #nct u #nct fluff #nct dream #nct dream jeno #nct dream fluff #nct blurbs #nct oneshot