#5 minute buffalo chicken wraps | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inthemytdl · 2 years ago

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I posted 70 times in 2022

That's 53 more posts than 2021!

26 posts created (37%)

44 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@robiinbuckley

@lady-of-the-spirit

@maya-hawke

@fyeahspiderman

@lanadelreyscokewhor3

I tagged 39 of my posts in 2022

Only 44% of my posts had no tags

#mcu!peter - 11 posts

#peter parker blurbs - 7 posts

#peter parker fics - 7 posts

#peter parker oneshot - 7 posts

#peter parker x reader - 6 posts

#peter parker x y/n - 6 posts

#peter parker x you - 6 posts

#peter parker x gn!reader - 6 posts

#peter parker x gender neutral reader - 6 posts

#peter parker oneshots - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#because when he forgets to pack a lunch or iron his shirt he would appreciate someone else doing it for him

My Top Posts in 2022:

Made For You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s new job means less time spent with you

Word Count: 1370

The door rings as you push it open, entering the sub shop down the street from your housing building.

Glancing around, you walk to the counter, press a bell, and wait for someone to serve you, taking note of students who are enjoying their lunch breaks.

“I’m coming!” Peter shouts, exiting what you assume is a storage room then grabbing a fresh pair of gloves. “Hi, what can I get you—“ He looks up, realizing it’s you. “Y/n, what are you doing here?!”

“I want a sandwich,” you reply, nonchalantly, and he frowns, crossing his arms. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I need something to eat while I hang out alone.”

Peter groans at your histrionics. He hates having to cancel your plans, but between school and Spider-Man, this job is the only thing paying his bills. Not to mention, buying his suit parts and foods that aren’t ramen.

"You didn't even give me time to react," you say, annoyed by his indifference, "I planned everything out just for you to cancel."

Peter sighs, feeling a pinch of guilt for disappointing you, but he's snapped out of his thoughts when something thuds in the storage room.

“I’m sorry, but my boss is back there,” he motions at the door beside him, “and I’m supposed to be working, so if you're not buying anything then—“

“I said I want a sandwich,” you remind, curtly, and he sighs, putting his gloves on then grabbing a sheet to build your sub on. “What bread?”

You look to the side, gazing at the list of bread options before answering. “Italian.” Peter nods, retrieving the bread then cutting it open. “Size?”

“Foot-long with chicken teriyaki,” you reply, reading off the large overhead menu. “Buffalos better,” he murmurs, placing your teriyaki on the sliced bread as you frown. “Why didn’t you say that before?”

He rolls his eyes, patting the meat down. “I’m not making you a new one.”

“Fine,” you pout, examining the toppings, “but add lettuce and tomatoes, and cheddar cheese with mayonnaise.”

He nods, adding your toppings then squirting mayo on top. “Pickles?”

“No, those are gross,” you say, scrunching your face as he feigns offense. “You’re gross.”

“Parker!”

Peter swings his head back, his heart racing as he spots his boss standing in the doorway. There’s no way she heard him, right?

“Will you work faster?! We’ve got other customers!”

The both of you look to the side, noticing the line of customers waiting for their orders to be taken.

“Sorry, I’ll get on it,” he grunts as his boss returns to the storage room, and you assume that isn’t what he wanted to say. “Do you want it toasted?”

You nod and he squeezes your sandwich together before shoving it in the toaster. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves you at the cash register, going to take another order.

Waiting for your own, you watch as Peter works from the other end of the counter. He seems good at his job. He knows all the bread and topping choices, which is expected but impressive. You only ever remember your own order.

A couple minutes go by before Peter returns, leaving his previous customer to take your sandwich out of the toaster. After, he wraps it in paper, handing it to you before pressing a few buttons on the cash register.

“That’ll be $7.50," he says and you crease your brows, examining the menu’s prices. That's three dollars less than the printed price.

Peter notices your expression and rolls his eyes.

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99 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

Stickier Than Sap

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter has an off day where he sticks to everything

Word Count: 2500

“Morning.” Bucky greets, turning on your infamous coffee machine: the one everyone likes most. While he brews a new batch, Peter winks at you, playfully, and you roll your eyes. He quickly looks away, biting his lip to prevent a smile from plastering on his face.

You take a seat at the kitchen island when Bucky realizes Peter has his favorite mug—the one he refuses to let anyone else use—so he grabs it, creasing his brows when it stalls in the boy’s hand.

“Kid,” he calls, and Peter hums, facing him, “let go.”

“Oh, sorry.” He stretches his arm out, allowing Bucky to grab the mug, but it still doesn’t budge. Noticing their predicament, you stifle a laugh, causing the soldier to look up at you.

“Alright, ha-ha. Now would you let go?” He pulls harder this time, yanking Peter forward. “I-I’m not doing it on purpose,” he explains, finding his balance as Bucky grunts. “Just let go!”

Peter shakes his hand—hard—but the mug still follows him.

Rolling your eyes, you stand. “Here.” You grab his shoulder with one hand, reaching for the mug with your other when he drops it, and it instantly shatters on the tiled floor.

Gulping, Peter glances at Bucky who grunts, leaving the room—his coffee craving immediately gone.

“What was that?” You ask, and he shrugs, crouching to collect the ceramic pieces as you gaze at him. His curls are a tousled mess, and you can tell he only ran a hand through them this morning, but you're snapped out of your thoughts when he winces.

“You okay?” You crouch down to his level, gazing at his eyes when his breath hitches. You’re just inches away from each other. He can smell your body wash which you barred him from using.

“Yeah,” he puts his finger in his mouth, “just a cut.”

“Well, duh,” you say, standing, “you’re supposed to do that with gloves on—you’re not invincible you know.”

You grab a quick snack from the cabinet, leaving Peter in the kitchen as you head back to your room.

For the rest of the day, similar events occur. Anytime you walk into a room, something sticks to Peter. He’d be watching TV in the common room, and as soon as he saw you, the remote would stick to his hand. The same happened when he was doing homework. Only this time he pulled the keys off his laptop, and no amount of shaking would free them from him. But all you did was laugh. Every time. Tears collected in your eyes when he tried to unstick himself, only to make things worse. He tried to play it off, but each time it happened, it became more annoying and even more dangerous.

—

“Underoos! How’s my favorite arachnid doing?”

“I’m your only arachnid,” Peter corrects, entering the main laboratory, and Tony quickly notices his slumped shoulders and knitted brows.

“Widow exists which, by the way, don’t tell her I said that.”

Peter nods, heading to his corner of the lab as Tony grabs a screwdriver, undoing a bolt in his suit. Lab work is one of the ways he clears his mind: a habit Peter has picked up.

As they work, Tony sneaks glances at Peter, each time expecting him to ask about his project, but he doesn't. In fact, he barely looks in his direction. Instead, he focuses on upgrading his web shooters. But Tony ignores it, trying not to pry, however, eventually, the silence grows deafening and the tension too thick.

“Alright, what’s up?” He asks, gazing at Peter who glances at him and shrugs. “Nuh uh, don’t give me that—spill.”

“It’s nothing,” Peter says and Tony groans, signaling for him to say more. “It’s just… I’ve been having some issues with my powers.” He lifts his hands, examining them like a blueprint. “I-I keep sticking to things! Like this morning when I broke Bucky’s mug.”

Tony grimaces, knowing how much he loved it.

“And earlier today, I ruined my laptop and almost ripped my shirt in front of Y/n—“

“Kid,” he throws his hand up, “I don’t want anything to do with your hormonal stickiness.”

Frowning, Peter drops his head. If he can just figure out what's messing with his powers, then things can go back to normal. But radioactive spiders aren’t supposed to exist, so nobody gets them, and no one can help him—not even Tony, who points at him.

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104 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

Leveled Up

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Spider-Man gets tricky when you’re ready to take it to the next level and he’s not

Word Count: 1910

The first time you met Spider-Man you were sitting on the fire escape outside your window when you saw him climbing up the side of your building. His odd bug-like demeanor sent a scream roaring through your throat, which sent him falling down two stories.

He never told you what he was doing there, but you had your suspicions. You had so many you sent a plethora of questions his way. He was surprisingly willing to answer some but avoided personal questions like his age. You figured he was around yours with his sometimes-squeaky voice and constant pop-culture references. You never thought they would bring you to this moment now.

“Can I?” Your fingers tapped on his shoulders where his mask met his suit. You had never seen Spider-Man’s face before. No one had. But you had been friends for so long tonight felt like the right time—when was peering into your eyes as you looked into his white lenses. It was strange, but you had gotten used to them: the constant barrier between you and him. It kept your relationship at bay and ached your heart. You slowly lifted his mask like you were peeling away wallpaper when he grabbed your arms.

“Wait…”

You peered into his lenses for a response you clearly wouldn’t receive, so you dropped your hands and faced the night sky ahead of you. You could see the street that led to Duke’s, a knock-off of Delmar’s, according to Spider-Man, from the top of your apartment building.

“Can I at least get your name?”

The silence filled with the sound of his heavy breaths. You knew the suit didn’t cut off his oxygen supply so he must have been nervous. Though he had no reason to be. He was the one hiding behind red and blue lycra.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He whispered after a minute of gruesome silence. “It’s not safe.”

“Bullshit.” That was the same excuse he used every time you asked about his personal life and it infuriated you. The way everything you knew about him could be found in a newspaper. Each story he told was one you heard hours prior on the news—minus the witty commentary. Who knew Spider-Man was so into pizza? Everyone that knew Joe from Bleecker street’s pizza shop. Who knew Iron-Man was his favorite superhero? Everyone on Twitter. Nothing you knew about him was personal. It could all be found online. “New York’s the safest it’s ever been—this is about you.”

“Actually, Linda from 3rd street almost got purse-napped the other day and—“ He rambled on about crime rates, anything he could to deflect the situation. Just like always.

“We’ve known each other for how long.” You interrupted and he quickly replied. “Eight months and 28 days—give or take a day.”

“Eight months and I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s not true—“

“And everything I do know everyone else does too!”

“No… I told you about that churro I had the other day—no one knew that.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, swiping the screen to reveal a photo of him eating a cylinder shaped cinnamon stick. It had shown up on your Twitter feed after getting half a million likes.

“What?!” His lenses contracted as he peered at the image. “That’s my worst angle!”

You chewed your lips, refusing to give him the laugh he was so obviously looking for. You didn’t even smile. His unreadable expression made you bite your lips so hard a warm metallic swarmed in your mouth.

“Y/n,” he said, lifting a clothed hand to your face. His finger brushed on your lip and you pulled back when you looked into his cold lenses. Affection was always weird when you didn’t know who it was coming from.

“Don’t call me that.” You sneered, pocketing your phone as you stood. His lenses contracted.

“What?”

“If I don’t get to know your name then you don’t get to know mine.” It was petty, but nothing about your situation was fair. You told him everything. When you talked about your parents, he mentioned Stark Industries; when you gushed about your dream life, he raved about web-shooters and cameras; and when you bared your deepest secrets to him, he unveiled his affinity for board games. Because god knows he couldn’t find anything better to say, right?

“But I already know it…”

“Then don’t use it!” Your voice cracked as you continued. “A-and if I don’t get to see you then you don’t get to see me.” You b-lined past the patio tables and plant pots to the door that led into your apartment building. You hesitated when you grabbed the door knob, slowly twisting it as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wished to every star above that he would say something. All he had to do was ask you to stay and you would.

“I-it’s Peter!” You stopped in your tracks, turning around. “What?”

“My name. It’s Peter.”

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105 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

Sneaky as a Spider

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Only one thing could ever help Peter sleep

Warnings: insomnia | WC: 720

You rub your eyes while your phone buzzes on your nightstand. The clock next to it shines a bright red reading: 12:05 A.M. You glance to the side, your eyes skipping over the moonlight shining through your window when you grab your phone, spotting a text from Peter that reads: “can i come over?”

The two of you had gotten into the habit of sleeping at each other's apartments. It started when you fell asleep studying at his place and quickly grew into sleepovers over the phone and in-person when you could. You didn’t know it at the time, but Peter had an easier time falling asleep when you were around.

Your eyes glance over the text again, slowly shutting but a tap on your window scares you awake.

You quickly stand. The hairs on your arms following beat as your heart jumps and a blur shifts behind your window curtain. You carefully pull it open, spotting Peter.

“Seriously?!” You whisper, opening the window as he steps inside.

“I told you I was coming,” he says, discarding his backpack on the floor as you rub your temples.

You never understood Peter’s fondness for heights. Sure, your apartment’s only on the third floor, but any sane person would go through the front door.

“No, you asked if you could, and I didn’t respond.”

“Same thing,” he says, changing out of his jeans and into the pajamas stuffed in his backpack.

“You can’t be here.” You lock your bedroom door then sit on your bed; your head leaning against the headboard.

Your parents would kill you if they knew you snuck someone into your room. Their apartment.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, zipping his bag after shoving his clothes inside.

You hated how hard it was for him to fall asleep, but he only ever acted like it was normal.

“You should really do something about that—talk to someone.”

“Where's the fun in that?” He asks, and even in the dark, you know he has a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

Peter liked to joke around a lot. You came to see it as a defense mechanism; his way of dealing with things. But that wasn’t the only thing you learned.

After a few sleepovers, you quickly realized he wasn’t a deep sleeper. He always seemed to have his guard up; worried about something. He never told you what it was but you assumed it had to do with college applications. He really wanted to get into MIT and admissions had gotten harder this year. You wish he would talked to someone about it. Someone that wasn’t you—a professional.

“Maybe you should talk to aunt May,” you suggest, blinking away a tired tear while he rocks from his heels to his toes.

“Or… you could let me stay over.”

You were his favorite form of comfort. He already tried reading books and watching boring films to fall asleep. He even meditated once. But nothing made him fall asleep faster than being with you. You always fell asleep before him, telling him off when he shuffled too much. But he found it amusing. Your groggy swears and soft breaths lulled him to bed. He hoped things would stay this way—you and him—minus the insomnia and distressing dreams he had every now and then. But even then, maybe it’d be worth it if you stayed around.

“Fine,” you say, lifting your duvet as Peter crawls in beside you. You’re too tired to argue and Peter too stubborn.

“But seriously, sleep this time,” you scold, referencing the time you two stayed up guessing between real and fake objects to see which were actually cake.

“I will. Scouts honor.” He salutes to your ceiling and you roll your eyes.

“And you have to sneak out before my parents wake up,” you add, “quietly.”

“Sneaky as a spider,” he says, and you nod at the odd saying before slowly shutting your eyes.

You ignore the feeling of Peter’s gaze, easily falling asleep as your breath hitches and finds a steady rhythm. One thought playing in your mind while you drift into oblivion: sneaky as a spider.

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233 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

In a Minute

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: trying to wake a sleepy peter

Word Count: 560

——————————

“Pst.” You whispered, staring at Peter’s bare back as he laid beside you snoring softly. It was a quarter past one and you had woken up hours ago. Peter, on the other hand, was still fast asleep. His hand under a white pillow as he slept on his stomach. His back rising and falling with soft breaths.

You decided to let him sleep in two hours ago. During which you managed to shower, eat breakfast, and zoom through a couple cartoon episodes. Now you were bored, and Peter was still asleep.

It was getting ridiculous.

His snores grew louder and you huffed out an annoyed breath, rolling your eyes when an idea came to mind.

Laying down, you shimmied under the duvet before accidentally flicking a hand at him. It slapped his back with a loud clap! One you were sure would wake him.

He wiggled before squeezing his pillow and finding a comfortable position—still asleep.

Seriously? You rolled your eyes, heaving in a heavy breath before another idea came to mind.

Slowly, you turned so that your back was facing him, then scooted backwards, invading his side of the bed and stumbling onto his arm. He pulled it back—still asleep—and you continued to shimmy onto his side of the bed.

“Y/n…” He groaned. His raspy voice was muffled by his pillow, which he held onto tight as you pushed him closer to the edge of the bed.

You bit your lip to hide a laugh and continued scooting. His groans filled the air.

“Y/n!” He said. This time louder with more bass to it.

He was dangling off the bed about to fall when his eyes snapped open.

“Seriously?!” He lifted his head, looking over your body when you shut your eyes. “You have all that space—why do you need mine?!”

You could hear the irritation in his tired voice. If the clock on your nightstand wasn’t shining a bright 1:18 P.M., you would’ve felt bad. But it was way past sleeping time and you were bored.

“Sorry.” You said, turning to face him. The guilt in your voice lasted only three seconds before you were back to your cheerful self. “But now that you’re up—we should do something.”

His eyes were already shutting.

You slapped his arm and they fluttered back open, his brown irises gazing at you under lowered eyelids.

“If I weren’t so tired right now I’d say you did that on purpose.”

“What?”

His lips inched upwards. “Try to murder me in my sleep.”

You groaned. “Of course I did!” The thought of staying in bed for another minute was dreadful. “And if you don’t get up, I’ll finish the job.”

“May will be sad.” He said, snuggling into his pillow.

“She’ll understand.”

He reached a hand out, laying it on your hip. You felt his fingers strum along your skin. “Fine.” He pulled you into him. His arms were wrapped around your back, holding you tight. “In a minute.”

“Peter…” You warned, but he was already exhaling soft breaths. His head was nuzzled into your shoulder and you weren’t sure how he could breathe from his position but somehow he made it work.

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498 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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widivdie · 6 years ago

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APPLE PIE QUINOA BREAKFAST BOWL

ìNGREDìENTS

½ cup cooked quìnoa (approx ¼ dry)

½ cup unsweetened vanìlla almond mìlk (ì lìke SìLK brand)

½ chopped apple

½ tsp cìnnamon

Slìced banana

Raìsìns for toppìng

Chopped pecans for toppìng

OPTìONAL sweetner:

Maple syrup

Brown sugar

Coconut sugar

ìNSTRUCTìONS

Cook the quìnoa ìf ìt’s not already cooked, cook ìt ìn water plaìn do not add anythìng to ìt.

Once the quìnoa ìs cooked add ìt to a bowl. ìn a separate bowl add the almond mìlk, cìnnamon and chopped apples and gìve ìt a stìr, place ìt ìn the mìcrowave for about 45-60 seconds untìl warm or hot whìchever you prefer.

....

.......

See / visit original recipe 👩~🍳 --->here!!!.......

Visit Link: https://ift.tt/2XPm0Rs

#Blogger #5 MINUTE BUFFALO CHICKEN WRAPS #Apple recipes happyfoodstube barmbrack irish bread hal

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endcant · 2 years ago

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best ever food & drink

cucumber & watermelon (same to me)

tofu (many ways)

glass of milk and 2 cookies (various)

mini sweet peppers

egyptian kahk

homemade red bean paste (u can make a lot affordably, keep it a decent amount of time, and use it for everything)

chicken mole

sashimi (various)

bisque (various)

gazpacho (various)

fruit that you picked

the first bite of a california burger (burger with lettuce, tomato, avocado, and monterey jack cheese)

lemon pound cake

dolma

oxtail stew with chayote (white people not invited)

pozole blanco

buttered pumpkin ravioli followed by the raspberry gelato served in a coconut shell at the obligatory little italian place in my obligatory little not-italian hometown

oolong tea

lamb gyro

when i worked at the college i used to rinse out my cup noodles before microwaving them bc they were too salty. that was good

phó (various)

zalabia topped with sesame seeds

scrambled egg white with spinach and mushrooms

avocado smoothie

street corner strawberries, too ripe to be sold to grocery stores

homemade lengua estofado (white people not invited)

butterfish hand roll

fiji lakdi mithai

fruit salad consisting of: apple, jicama, oranges, cucumber, and optional melon (honeydew or cantaloupe) with mandatory seasoning of citrus juice, red pepper, and salt

fried egg over easy stirred into white rice with very small amounts of sesame oil and soy sauce

my dad is the only person who can make bbq ribs worth eating bc they are tender and heavily spiced with a homemade mustard-based sauce with more spices than i’ve ever seen on any other single object

japanese curry + chicken cutlet (my preferred curry but all are valid)

melted monterey jack cheese (any context)

go to 300 Juan Medina Rd., Chimayo, NM, 87522

muesli

homemade honey kale chip (YSAC)

extremely dry breve cappuccino

cinnamon life cereal

homemade sopapilla with honey

NYC mall shrimp tempura udon (ubiquitous in NYC indoor malls in 2009)

banana with brown sugar and a little butter heated in microwave for like 3 minutes. wait til it cools

just the crust of deep dish pizza without the toppings

buttered macaronis with white onion (poisonous to me)

hot dog and vegetable stir fry

chile con carne with MY family’s green chile recipe

oyster tasting paid for by somebody else

this one stout beer that i shared with my mother in 2017 that came in an unlabeled bottle found in the back of a restaurant that has since changed ownership. no other information

dishes containing roux, custard, or caramelized onions patiently made by your own hand (taste of the fruits of your labor)

my sister’s fucked up health recipes that are actually incredibly fucking good such as a very seasoned broth with like 5 different types of mushrooms, a buffalo chicken/sweet potato/turkey bacon casserole, and all of her various spaghetti squash glops. so FUCKING good.

arugula salad with nuts and fruits

steamed pumpkin (various seasonings)

any decently improvised sweet bread, cookie, or cake flavored chiefly with butter, white sugar, and almond extract

baked potato with the red skin no seasonings eaten outside in the cold

thick, ambrosia-like homemade horchata served in a mug at the mexican place with zero english speakers on staff

11 oz can apple sidra apple soda

banana at 2 am

worst ever food & drink

banana at 6 am

waffle house “hashbrown”

backsweetened fruit beer

whole wheat pancake

whole wheat or multigrain health flour tortilla. if you’re worried about your health just eat a corn tortilla or wrap ur stuff in lettuce

guiltiest pleasures of all time

bacon pb&j burger.

expensive californian bougie health snack bars that consist of unrecognizable seeds, unrecognizable nuts, and unrecognizable dried fruits, unrecognizably sweetened and stuck together in an unrecognizable mound

spoonful of stone ground mustard

back home theres a place where u can get craft beer, a rosé slushie actually worth havinf, taste 4 nearly identical dry red wines, and then say its ur birthday and get panini bread toasted with butter and a melted hersheys bar topped with whipped cream. the birthday treat only really tastes good once youve had the aforementioned quantity of alcohol, but i think that’s by design. like listening to shpongle while profoundly high on psychedelics

2 dennys pancakes with 2 eggs over easy placed betwixt, wherein they will be smashed and mixed with maple syrup until the entire mess is soggy yellow-brown and unrecognizable

bowl of chevys fresh mex salsa con cuchara

i experience that “just one more oreo” comic but with mazapan, & when i wake up from the mazapan fugue state every dark cloth in the house is stained permanently

hot cocoa consisting of: almond milk, dark cocoa powder, and stove heat

i will never forget starbucks sage and juniper latte in the fall of 2018. nothing else at that godforsaken restaurant will ever be that good.

those cute fude nuggets they sell at target that are like $15 per box that are shaped like stars, fishies, etc.

anything with garlic or onion (poisons me)

#mine #food #pins #alcohol mention #drug ment

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gutsygay · 4 years ago

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Stuffing Story: “Daniel Gets His Fill”

Hieee 👋presenting my first kink fiction story, just a couple college guys getting stuffed.

Features stuffing, overeating, tummy rumbles, burps, and tummy rubs.

SOOOO um hope y’all like it 👉👈🥺

“

“And that about wraps it up for today! Don’t forget chapter four homework due Monday.” the professor said, dismissing the class.

Daniel grinned, hopped from his seat and headed toward the lecture hall door. He was an active type, and hated to sit still for long periods. As he waited for the crowd of his classmates to shuffle through the door ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the nearby glass bookcase. He was average height, with tan skin, broad shoulders and large thighs. He was muscular and lean, save for a bit of a belly protruding from the very bottom of his abdomen, which he could never quite seem to work off, or even to tuck away completely when he wanted to hide his pudge.

Daniel didn’t care though. His main passions were eating, and working it off with strenuous exercise. His energy seemed boundless, but none more than his appetite was bottomless. At the time he wanted nothing more than a full rack of ribs and some buffalo wings. But at the same time he already had energy to expend as well. He wavered about how he’d spend the afternoon when his friend Nick called to him from across the hall, settling his silent debate.

“Yo Danny! We hitting the gym or what?” Nick said with a toothy grin.

“Sure, bro.” Daniel replied. “Leg day today, right?”

“Think so.”

“Sweet. I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” Daniel said, and headed to his car.

He grabbed his athletic clothes. He smiled to himself in anticipation of the coming activity. Soon they’d squat, lunge, press and strain their legs until they were nearly too sore to walk. He turned his thigh to the mirror he’d mounted on the inside of his locker door. His quads were already looking huge - they were getting that chiseled teardrop shape as well. As he lifted his shirt for a better view, he felt a sudden rumbling from down below. It had been nearly four hours since lunch - which was never enough for Daniel in the first place - and he was filled with nearly child-like excitement for what was to come. He thought of his favorite part of lifting - gorging himself afterward. Such a strenuous, calorie-intensive session as leg day meant he could pack it in with no shame.

He arrived at the basement gym, which was open to all resident students, but was surprisingly empty at the time. Nick was already at the squat rack - he had already set them up with a soul-crushing 315 pound squat rack.

“Alright then.” Daniel said, pumped. “Let’s hit it.”

And so they did. They grunted their way through 5 sets of squats, followed by lunges and leg presses. Then Daniel did some calf raises in the squat rack, his belly jiggling every time he descended. Some of it slipped out from under his shirt occasionally, and glistened with sweat. Daniel just rolled his eyes and tucked it back in.

When they finished, Nick lifted his shirt to wipe his sweat, exposing his ab muscles. Nick looked at Daniel’s partially exposed abdominal region and smirked. “You can never seem to lose that chubby little gut, can you?” he said, poking Daniel’s flab, which was still beaded with sweat. “Nah, don’t have the willpower I guess. But I don’t care. Let’s go eat.” Daniel said.

“Sure, maybe just a salad, Danny? If you - “

Nick was cut off by a deep audible growl from Daniel’s belly. Daniel squeezed it with both hands and looked up at Nick.

“Uh, okay bro, how does Wendy’s sound?” Nick said, silenced by Daniel’s rumblings.

“I’m not feeling it. Let’s hit that new buffet instead.” Daniel said, already headed for the door. Nick followed, knowing his friend was now less of a freshman undergrad and more of a beast in search of prey.

They showered down, got back into school clothes and jumped into Daniel’s car. Daniel usually offered Nick a ride back to his apartment whenever he needed it after their afternoon lifting sessions. They headed a few blocks away from the main campus building, towards a new all-you-can-eat buffet. Daniel’s hungry stomach continued to growl louder, but he simply turned up the car stereo to drown it out.

After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel and Nick pulled into the buffet. They walked in and the greeter happily showed them a booth, but the restaurant owner behind her pursed his lips upon seeing Daniel and Nick, visibly ravenous. They had already twice visited the fairly-new establishment. This kid’s gonna drive me out of business, he thought to himself. That orifice must eat his weight in food once a week.

They claimed their booth seats, and beelined to the buffet area. Daniel grabbed a plate and loaded it with buffalo wings (honey barbecue AND blue cheese), meat loaf, a bacon cheeseburger, quesadillas and a pepperoni calzone. The plate must’ve weighed nearly a pound, and Daniel was practically drooling on the way back to the table.

“Jeez, got enough there, bro?” Nick asked as they sat down, but Daniel was already stuffing his face.

“Nnnf, mm!” Daniel forced a reply.

“Never, huh?” Nick asked.

He watched as Daniel tore into the bacon cheeseburger, engulfing nearly a third of it in one bite. In well under a minute he’d downed the whole thing. Daniel grinned wordlessly at Nick while chewing the last bite, and quickly swallowed before promptly moving on to the meat loaf, followed by the chicken wings.

Jeez, does he ever slow down to breathe? Nick thought to himself. And I feel like he’s just getting started. Nick ate a few bites of his ham slices, and mac and cheese on the side. When he looked back up, Daniel’s buffalo wings had been reduced to six picked-clean bones piled up on the plate, being drenched with grease dripping from Daniel’s calzone. Nick watched as Daniel’s eyes rolled back slightly and closed with pleasure every time he swallowed. He’s enjoying it. It’s like sex on a plate to him! he thought.

Daniel finished the 3 quesadilla slices, and pressed a napkin to his mouth. And then he burped. He tried to quiet it, but his hand and the napkin did little to muffle the rumbling gas that burbled up and out of him. It lasted nearly 5 seconds in all, and Nick could even feel the vibration through the table.

“You good, dude?” Nick asked.

“Uh, ‘scuse me, heh heh.” Daniel wiped his mouth and rolled his eyes, trying and failing to play off his prior eruption.

“Damn dude, you really put that shit away.” Nick gestured to the now empty plate before him.

“What can I say? I’m hungry as fuck.”

“You mean you were hungry as fuck.”

“I dunno man, that belch freed up some room.” Daniel said, patting his stomach. His belly had always been a little large, or at least proportionally big compared to the rest of his body, but now it was visibly distended. More? How could he possibly still be hungry? Nick wondered, and watched as he purposefully strolled back to the buffet line. He had just packed away more than 3000 calories as if it were nothing. Nick couldn’t help but feel intimidated, yet drawn to Daniel’s ability to consume like some kind of alpha male.

By the end of it, Daniel had downed a second plate. And a third. And a shish-kabob. And not one, but two bowls of ice cream for dessert.

Daniel polished off the second bowl, and released another burp, not even trying to muzzle it this time. Nick sat in awe. He himself had managed two plates and a scoop of ice cream, but his dishes were nowhere near as heavily packed as Daniel’s.

“Oof, I think I’m about ready to put a cork in it, bro.” Daniel said, fiddling with his pants belt.

He stood up, revealing his overstuffed abdomen. In the past hour it had taken them to eat, it had grown from a miniscule, doughy bump to a basketball-sized food baby. They headed out to the parking lot, and Daniel lifted his shirt to give his belly a little massage. Nick couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“So that’s where you put it all.” Nick said, blank-faced, and finding himself weirdly intrigued by this bodily transformation.

Daniel turned to face Nick. He burped again, managing to muffle it into a low hiss this time, and replied, “I’m not a bottomless pit after all, haha. It’s gotta go somewhere, y’know.” He looked down at Nick, grinning, and gently patted the underside of his bloat to make it jiggle.

“Uh, yeah, heh heh.” Nick replied, watching his friend’s flab bounce.

“Hey, you want to come over and hang for a while? That anime you like came out on Netflix.” Daniel offered.

“Yeah, sure! I’d love to let it hang out with you. Er, hang out with you.” Nick said. An unexplainable chill ran through him.

They hopped back in Daniel’s car and headed off to his apartment. Nick kept glancing over toward Daniel, still in disbelief at the size of his stomach. In the intermittent illumination from passing streetlamps, he saw it bulging and spilling out in between the seat belt straps. He also saw the physique of the rest of Daniel’s body - his arms and chest were defined, and his quads were still bulging from the prior workout. His left arm was fully extended, lazily gripping the top of the steering wheel, his other resting sandwiched between his thigh and his belly flab.

When they arrived at Daniel’s apartment, they went to his couch, turned on the TV, and waited for the streaming service to connect.

“Whoof!” Daniel exhaled, as he collapsed onto the couch. He reclined in the corner with the armrest and the back cushion, and extended one hand behind his head, the other poking his abdomen again. “Heh heh, maybe I overdid it.”

“Nahhh,” Nick said absentmindedly, staring at Daniel’s gut.

“Uh, don’t you think so?” Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Nick realized what he’d responded with, and simply blushed.

“Yo, I’m about to burst, jeez.” Daniel lifted his shirt further and fumbled with his belt. “I gotta undo this, I’m dying. You’re cool with that, right?” Daniel said, popping his belt buckle open.

Nick paused, still staring, and said, “D-Do what you gotta do, man.”

Daniel’s exposed belly shone in the soft light of the television. He gripped the button of his jeans, pulled with a grunt, “Unnnh!” and popped open the waist of his pants, sinking backward into the cushions as he did so, as if overcome with relief. He pulled down his zipper, and the lower part of his abdomen spilled out, and rested upon his thighs ever so slightly. Then he lifted his belly to grab the waistband of his underwear, and tuck it downward, so that his gut now hung out completely, unrestricted. His stomach gurgled audibly. Daniel put a hand on his chest and belched loudly. Good lord, he has no shame about this at all, he’s just sprawled out, digesting and not giving a fuck. Nick thought. He’d never experienced anything quite like this before.

“Damn, ‘scuse me, heh heh. Sorry about that.” Daniel said, his abdomen continuing to rumble periodically.

“Don’t be.” Nick said quickly, unsure of why he had received such a feeling of satisfaction from someone else’s burp.

Just then, the streaming service loaded, and Daniel leaned forward to pick up the TV remote, and let out a slight groan, the sides of his belly folding into rolls as he did so. Daniel gripped the remote with both hands and said, “This dumb thing doesn’t work right, I need to get it fixed. The show won’t play unless you hold the On-Demand and Play buttons at the same time, for the first few minutes.”

Daniel reclined again and held the two buttons, extending both hands toward the TV, further exposing his belly in his lap. The theme song of the aging anime started on the screen. The catchy, angelic tune emanated from the TV, but wasn’t enough to muffle further rumbling from Daniel’s stomach.

Daniel looked down at it between his arms. “Ugh, it’s sitting in me like a rock. I really gotta burp again.”

Nick was fixated on Daniel, not paying a moment of attention to the anime on the TV. “H-heh, bet you could use a belly rub right now.”

“Ugh, you know it, bro.” Daniel replied.

Nick paused for a long while, staring at Daniel’s plump gut, resting in his lap. “You know… I guess, maybe, if you wanted to, I could rub your belly for you.”

Daniel looked over at Nick, and let out a soft chuckle.

Nick stuttered, nervous he’d made things weird. “I-I mean, uh, since your hands are full, and like-”

“Sure, bro. Come on over.” Daniel said smiling.

“Uh, seriously? I mean, okay.” Nick said warily.

“Yeah man, what else are bros for? Also I’m dying over here, I’ve never been this bloated.” Daniel reassured him, as Nick slid toward his end of the couch. “If I could get a quick massage down there that would be great.” Daniel reclined, and turned his body toward Nick slightly.

Nick rubbed his hands together to warm them, and gazed upon Daniel’s rumbling, distended tummy. In the low light from the television, he could see that it had bulged from under his ribcage, giving the top an almost triangular shape, but became sublimely rounded closer to his navel, and at the underbelly, which spilled between the zipper of his jeans and onto his thighs. There was almost no hair on his tummy, save for a light sprinkling of peach fuzz surrounding his navel, and trailing downward towards his manhood. His belly button, which Nick had earlier seen to protrude slightly outward, had all but disappeared into the newly chubbier, squishy mass of belly.

Nick hesitated to take in the sight up close. “Y-you ready?” he looked up at Daniel.

“Go ahead, bro.” Daniel replied with a smile.

Gingerly, Nick placed a hand - starting with the fingertips - atop Daniel’s belly, and he could feel the warmth and softness of his exposed skin. He placed his other hand on it as well - the fingers wrapped around the side of his belly, while the thumb lightly gripped in Daniel’s sunken navel. He slowly pressed into the soft skin until it reached a point and became firmer, the bloat caused by all the food. Nick blushed and remembered that he was giving a massage, not just feeling his friend for pleasure.

Nick began to press more firmly and move his hands in a slow, rhythmic motion surrounding Daniel’s navel.

“Like this?”

“Almost.” Daniel replied, his eyes closing in bliss.

Nick continued, pressing firmer still, and re-orienting himself on the couch to press and knead from different angles. Nick could still feel Daniel’s stomach rumbling about, working away at the mass of food. Periodically Daniel would let out a small burp, and Nick could feel the vibrations starting deep within his friend’s body, and burbling up and out. Nick wondered what kind of relief he was bringing his friend, if Daniel’s tummy was faring any better due to the massages and release of gas.

“Move your right hand down a little.” Daniel instructed. Nick slid his hand down below the navel, closer to Daniel’s left leg.

“Unh, down more. And press.” Daniel said, sounding almost desperate.

Nick obeyed, his hand now brushing against the front of Daniel’s jeans, and the waist of his underwear. He pressed harder in this lower area, under the stomach, and felt something shift, as if he’d freed up some mass deep within Daniel’s swollen gut.

“Right there, that’s it -” Daniel started, before he was cut off by a sudden, intense rumble, followed by the loudest burp Nick had ever heard. Nick’s head was positioned right near the top of Daniel’s abdominal area, and he could hear the massive expulsion of gas, and feel the tummy deflating. The burp lasted nearly a full ten seconds, and Nick looked up at Daniel, chuckling.

“Man, you feel any better after that?” he asked.

Daniel hesitated to catch his breath, “Yes, oh my God, I needed that.” he said, groaning. Daniel set down the remote, as the show was playing properly now.

At this point Nick was in acceptance that he was aroused by all this, and continued softly massaging Daniel’s gut, which was finally settled, more or less. Nick prodded experimentally around Daniel’s belly button, curious if he could help his friend release additional pressure. Daniel rewarded his friend’s work with several more burps, each bringing him blissful relief as the pressure in his gut gradually decreased. Finally, Daniel’s stomach was settled, and Nick felt the mass beginning to move downward into the lower intestines.

“Thank you, bro. That felt amazing.” Daniel said, grinning as he looked down at Nick, whose hands were still feeling his belly.

“My pleasure!” Nick replied with a toothy grin. He realized that seeing his friend stuffed, and helping him through tummy trouble, made him feel a delight he’d never experienced before. He stayed still, save for his hands, waiting for Daniel to say he’d done enough. But it seemed to Nick that his friend was just letting him stay there, his hands on his tummy, for as long as he wanted.

Eventually Nick fell asleep, his head on Daniel’s lap, and he listened to the last remaining soft gurgles from deep within his friend’s tummy as he drifted off. Daniel soon found himself nodding off as well, in an irresistible food coma, his hand resting on Nick’s back. He fell asleep, happily dreaming of tomorrow’s breakfast.

“

And that’s that, hope y’all enjoyed 😅

#stuffing #overeating #gassy #gassy belly #tummy troubles #burp #tummy rub #tummy rumbles #gurgle #belly rubs #belch #gutsygay #original

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for-fucks-sake-h · 5 years ago

Text

As You Held Onto Me - Two

*a/n: Hi! We’re going to jump right into this. As always, thank you thank you thank you to my babes @sleepyeyedficsnrecs @biteharrysthigh @bbletsdoitallovragain @imethiminthemorning, I love you all so much and don’t deserve any of you. Alright, I hope you guys like part two. Please let me know your thoughts. Happy reading! x

CATCH UP ON PREVIOUS PARTS HERE

Rated: M, mature // Word Count: 7.7k

Sometimes, love can feel like it’s everything. And sometimes, we hope it can be.

***

- Friday, May 5, 2013 -

“You almost done?”

Harry leaned his hip against the bar of the station you were cleaning, loosening his bow tie as he looked at you.

“Yeah, just gotta put the goblets away and fill the juice machine.”

“Here, I’ll do these,” he reached for the rack of glasses, smiling when you kissed his cheek.

You had been dating Harry for two months and to say things were going great would be an understatement. It was better than great. You were completely smitten.

Honestly, you were more than smitten.

You looked over your shoulder at him as you headed back to the kitchen, watching him carefully place glass after glass up on the shelf. You could see his back muscles move beneath the thin white dress shirt, making you even more eager to finish up your sidework.

Harry’s parents were out of town that weekend and the first sleepover with your boyfriend was waiting for you just on the other side of your shift. He was adorable when he mentioned it to you. Nervous smiles and butterflies floating around tummies at the prospect of spending the entire night together, uninterrupted. The thought of not having to sneak around made your skin tingle with anticipation.

You finished your side work as quickly as possible. Harry was already in the office pulling his thin hoodie over his head when you went to clock out. He was beside you instantly, holding your cardigan out to you with a smile.

You walked out the back door, hand in hand, as you said your goodbyes to your friends.

“Can I drive?” You smiled enthusiastically up to him.

His mouth curled into that smirk; the one that made your pulse race the very first night you met. The same smirk that pulled the exact same reaction from you every time you’d seen it since.

He reached into his pocket without a word to hand his keys over to you. With a small tap to your behind, he headed to the passengers seat.

The weather was starting to change into one of your favorite seasons. The sun was warm during the day and the breeze was cool at night. The rain was starting to slow down and the air was starting to get that fragrant sweet smell that you loved.

Harry relaxed back into his seat with his hands folded behind his head and a smile on his face. You chuckled softly as you started his car, adjusting his rearview and buckling your seatbelt. He cracked his window after a while, letting some of the cool air of the evening breathe its way into the car before plugging his phone into the makeshift aux port he added to the car.

Losing My Religion by R.E.M played through his speakers as you cruised through the back roads to his family's home.

You both sang along, stealing glances and smiles every so often. That was the thing about yours and Harry’s relationship. It was nice just being with him. He never made you feel like you needed to try too hard and he never made you feel like you had to be anything you weren’t. You were naturally comfortable with each other from the start.

You smiled when you caught him taking a picture of you out of the corner of your eye. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he sang, amused. “You look pretty.”

You smiled softly at him as you reached up to cup the side of his face with your free hand. The sun was almost completely set on the horizon, but it still cast the most beautiful orangey pink light on his features, his eyes shining brightly against the contrasting colors. When you looked back to the road, you felt him take hold of your wrist and gently place a kiss to your palm before intertwining your fingers in his lap.

You parked his car in the center of the driveway, both of you easing out of your seats and making your way to the side door of his house. You hugged him from behind as he unlocked the door, both of you laughing and kicking your shoes off while you kept your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Got the buffalo chicken pizza you like.” Harry spoke over his shoulder as he led you to his kitchen.

You smiled widely against his shoulder blade, “You’re the best.”

His smile was sweet when you untangled yourself from his torso and went to his freezer to pull the pizza out. You turned his oven on and grabbed the large pizza board his mom kept in the cabinet next to the stove. He plugged his phone into the speaker they kept on the windowsill once the pizza was in the oven, singing along to everything from Landslide to Summer Of ‘69 to Wonderwall to Cryin’ to one of your favorites, Best of You.

You cuddled up on the couch with your pizza once Harry started one of his favorites, Titanic.

You did this every time; making it about 20 minutes into a film before you were talking through it. Whether it was about work or school, or a story a friend told one of you, or about the movie itself, you never stayed quiet to watch a whole movie through.

Eventually, you ended up sprawled out on the couch. Harry was tucked behind you with an arm under your waist while his other hand held his phone out to take a picture of you both. His eyes were only visible over your shoulder, and your face was partially tucked into the pillow. But you could tell you were both smiling with rosy cheeks and sleepy eyes.

He dropped his phone to the floor to wrap his arms around you completely, snuggling closer with his face pressed into your neck. His fingers splayed out over your ribs as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck. His warm breath sent a chill through you and heat to your belly.

Being with Harry awakened feelings in you that you didn’t know you could have. You had never been with someone that made you feel cherished without saying a word. You could feel it pour off his skin.

You turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his middle as one of his hands cupped your face. His lips were sweet as they pulled kisses from you. His tongue was fleeting; strong in its pass but never lingering too long.

His breathing became heavier as he pressed himself closer to you. He panted into your mouth when you reached down to palm him through his trousers. He was rock hard and his length extended down his pant leg. Just the feel of him in your hand excited you.

His fingers were shaking slightly as he unbuttoned your top, exposing your lace clad chest to get his mouth on your skin. He sucked warm, wet kisses where your heart was pounding, no doubt being able to feel the way it raced for him.

You were all hands and sloppy movements from there, wrestling with his belt buckle as he unzipped your pants. His mouth was messy on yours, teeth clanking and chuckles forming against lips as you attempted to undress each other as fast as possible. It wasn’t until you were down to your underwear that you both slowed, taking each other in as your mouths met over and over again.

You gripped his hair as he pulled your leg over his hip. He pressed his length between your thighs, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat just from the small contact.

His head tilted back on his neck when you sucked the skin of his collar bone before you started placing soft kisses down his chest. He turned onto his back as you made your way down his body until you were settled with your face hovering over his crotch. His stomach clenched when you placed a kiss just above the band of his boxers. His fingers threaded through your hair into a make-shift ponytail as he watched you lick his hip bone.

“Babe,” he begged quietly as his hips flexed towards you.

Your only response was to tug his boxers down to his thighs, his length springing up onto his stomach. You licked his tip slowly, circling your tongue over him as he whimpered shakily.

His head was tilted back when you glanced up at him. Taking his length in your hand, you pumped him slow and watched him raise his head to look down at you. His eyes were glassy as the light from the TV shone across the side of his face.

His moan was deep when you eased your mouth over him, taking him as far in as you could with your hand covering the rest of his length. He kept his hand wrapped in your hair and as your eyes fluttered closed, you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

You pumped your mouth on him as your hand twisted, following pursuit of your lips. His moans egged you on, never quiet when you were making him feel good. And you loved it, every sound he made turning(?)turned you on more.

When you pulled off him with a wet pop, he cupped your jaw and leaned his face down as he guided you to his mouth. He kissed you fully, moaning softly into your mouth as his fingers pressed into the nape of your neck.

He was quick to sit up, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet could rest on the floor as he pushed your underwear down hastily. His strong arms pulled you until you were straddling his lap, his tip grazing your hot center.

His fingers found your clit, moaning at the wetness that was waiting for him. Your head tilted back on your neck as he circled the sensitive nub before slipping down to your entrance and easing a finger inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His voice was a quiet whisper into the skin of your neck.

You dug your hands into the back of his hair, keeping him close as your hips rolled effortlessly. You could feel his length grazing against your thigh as his fingers pulled your wetness up to your clit. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you reached down to take hold of him, pumping him slowly as he moaned into your chest.

His hands gripped your hips when you aligned him to your entrance, easing his tip into you. He tilted his head back to the couch, hooded eyes looking up at you as you gripped your fingers back into his hair. You sat fully on him slowly, easing him into you with small pumps of your hips until you could feel him in the base of your stomach.

His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled you closer, his own hips tilting up to meet yours. Your mouths hung open in unison and your breath caught in your throat at how full you felt in that position.

When you lifted off him, he swallowed harshly as you found a slow rhythm. His hands guided you while he watched your face and choked back quiet moans.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you bottomed out. “It’s so good.”

You moaned harshly when he flexed his hips into yours. “I’m so… full.”

“Yeah,” he groaned, meeting your hips with his own thrusts. Your fingers gripped to his neck, pressing into his skin as he fucked up into you.

You leaned in to kiss him, his mouth desperately trying to reciprocate your kisses. But he was overwhelmed and his thrusts were becoming sloppy as he neared his orgasm.

“I’m close,” you moaned into his mouth and immediately one of his hands tucked between you so that his fingers could brush your clit.

You rolled your hips into his, meeting him thrust for thrust as your orgasm neared. His eyes carried his hooded lids from your face, to where you were connected, and back up to your face. His brows were creased together in pleasure as he tried to hold himself off from coming too soon.

“Please, babe,” he groaned deeply as his fingers flexed on your hip and across your clit.

His beg and the look on his face was enough to get you there, spasming around his length as your orgasm exploded in the pit of your stomach. He moaned with you as his own hips became sloppier. You pushed his hand away from your clit when it became too much, your nails digging into his chest when you felt his cock pulse inside you.

He was quick to lift you off him before his orgasm began to paint his stomach. His moans were guttural as his tip leaked with every pump of his hand, some of his cum landing on your thigh.

His arms fell sluggishly to his sides, his eyes closed and a soft grin on his face as he started to come down. You brushed your fingers through his hair as you attempted to catch your breath. His fingers teased against the outsides of your thighs before smoothing over your skin.

“So good,” he chuckled deeply.

You hummed in response, leaning in to press your body to his in a hug. His hands trailed up from your thighs and across your back soothingly. You listened to his breathing steady and felt his heart rate start to come down against your chest as you just sat there together in your post-orgasm bliss.

He stretched his legs out in front of him as he patted your behind. “Let’s go shower,” he suggested with a small laugh.

“Yeah you made a mess,” you quipped.

“Uh, you made me make a mess.”

“Nope, did nothing of the sort. That was all you.” You shook your head playfully as you climbed off him.

“Oh yeah, you’re just a complete angel,” he teased.

“Mhm!”

He laughed as he picked your uniforms up from the floor, smiling at you with a chuck of his fingers under your chin before taking your hand in his.

You showered together and brushed your teeth before slipping one of his t-shirts on for bed while he pulled a pair of fresh boxers up his thighs. You clambered under his sheets with wet hair and sore limbs, resting your head on his pillow as you faced him. Your feet tangled together and his hand traced up and down the length of your side.

His eyes searched your face in the silence, your forefinger drawing circle patterns into one of the swallows on his chest.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes met his despite the darkness. The room was still aside from the movement of his fingers dancing over your skin. “I think I’m falling in love with you too,” you whispered back.

Twin smiles started to form on your mouths before he leaned in to kiss you. He kissed you and kissed you, and when you thought he may tire of kissing you, he kissed you more. Your heart was full and beating just for him.

When he pulled you with him as he lay on his back, your body pressed into his side with your head on his chest, he placed a firm kiss to the top of your head.

“I can’t wait to wake up to you tomorrow,” he murmured into your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

***

- Tuesday, March 12, 2019 -

Your eyes blinked open against the sunlight pouring into your bedroom. Turning over towards the center of the bed, you grazed your hand against the cold sheets.

Waking up to an empty bed had become your new norm.

Groggily clambering out of bed, you tucked your feet into your slippers at the end of the bed before you went in search of a sweatshirt. Your house was freezing cold in the mornings, before the sun had the chance to warm the shingles from the still cold temperature.

You trudged down squeaky stairs to the kitchen where the smell of coffee brewing was wafting through the house, finding a fully dressed Harry with his back to you as he poured his mug. He caught you entering the room out of the corner of his eye, grabbing another mug for you.

You walked to his side, taking the mug from his hand and kissing his shoulder softly.

“How’d you sleep?” You asked as you opened the fridge to grab your creamer.

“Eh, alright,” he spoke while he poured his own mug. “You?”

“Same.”

You were quiet as you fixed your coffee, the sound of your spoon stirring in your mug the only noise in the kitchen. Wordlessly placing the spoon into his mug, you leaned against the counter as an awkward silence overtook the room.

Harry stirred his coffee slowly before dropping the spoon into the sink with a clunk. He turned towards you and leaned against the opposite counter. “We have to be there at 2, right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded slightly over the top of your mug.

“Okay, I’ll be back by 1:30 to get you.”

“Alrighty,” you replied quietly.

You drank your coffee in silence, your mind so far away that you couldn’t even attempt to bring it back.

Harry finished his first, placing his empty mug into the sink to fill it with water. He walked over to you, stopping in front of you so he could tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “It’s gonna be okay, babe.”

You nodded, keeping your mug at your lips as he leaned in to kiss your cheek before heading out the door.

But everything wasn’t okay.

If everything was okay, a year wouldn’t have passed without you getting pregnant. If everything was okay, you wouldn’t be heading to an infertility doctor to see why you weren’t getting pregnant. If everything was okay, you wouldn’t be hating yourself for not giving Harry the family you always talked about.

The first few months of trying were fine. You had expected it to take some time. But by the fifth month, you decided to start tracking your cycle. And by the seventh month, you had started using ovulation kits. Eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh; months coming and going without a positive pregnancy test.

You were disheartened. And you knew once you hit the one year mark you needed to set up an appointment to see someone.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you also knew it was putting a strain on your marriage. Maybe you were projecting. Or maybe Harry really was disappointed. You couldn’t be sure. He never said anything, and he was always optimistic, saying you’d figure it out.

You just wished it wasn’t something you had to figure out.

You had friends getting pregnant left and right, attending baby showers and gender reveal parties while you begged a stick to finally show that it was your turn.

At Thanksgiving, you had distant family members asking when you might start a family. Your stock answer was a nonchalant shrug and something along the lines of it’ll happen whenever it’s supposed to.

But when was it supposed to?

It was one of your days off from your 12 hour shifts at the hospital. That was the only place you didn’t really worry about getting pregnant, too focused on helping your patients feel comfortable after their heart surgeries. You’d been there for three years and felt like becoming a nurse truly was your calling.

You busied yourself with cleaning until it was an appropriate time to shower and get ready for the appointment. You washed sheets and folded laundry, wiped counters, dusted, vacuumed; anything to try to stay occupied so that the dread of the unknown didn’t consume you.

Soon enough it was 1pm and you headed upstairs to shower quickly. You scrubbed your scalp with mint shampoo as your heart beat sporadically in your chest, your mind reeling.

You dressed in jeans and sneakers and a black Adidas hoodie. You were applying some mascara when you heard your back door open, signaling Harry was home.

He was playing on his phone when you came down the steps, looking up to you with a small smile when he heard you. “Ready?”

“I guess,” you shrugged as you grabbed your purse from your entrance table.

“Hey,” he was beside you when you turned around. Warm hands cupped your cheeks as light green eyes flicked across your face. “Everything is gonna be fine.” You closed your eyes at his words. “Hey, I’m serious. If it’s not, we’ll take it from there. In this together, right?”

You looked up to your husband’s hopeful face, nodding in agreement before you leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his waiting mouth.

He pulled you back in for another, and another, before wrapping his arm around your shoulder to guide you to the car.

You held his hand in yours for the entire car ride. Anxiety took over your mind as you got closer and closer to the hospital, spiking when he parked in the back lot that was specifically for the reproductive offices.

The waiting room was cold. Two other couples waited for their names to be called. There were award winning articles on the walls. Best Reproductive Practice In The Tristate Area written across the top of an article in big, blue letters. If someone would have told you a year ago that you would end up here, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Styles,” a woman called once the door opened.

She was ironically chipper, asking how your day was going as she walked you down a long hallway, leading you to an office and letting you know your doctor would be in soon.

You exhaled deeply once she closed the door. Harry rubbed your back soothingly, attempting to comfort you. It felt like an hour had passed -- when in reality it was probably ten minutes -- before the doctor came in.

“Mr. and Mrs. Styles, I’m Doctor Sobel.” He entered the room confidently, shaking both of your hands before making his way around to his side of the desk. “So, you’re having trouble getting pregnant.”

He got right to it.

“Um, yes,” you replied.

“How long have you been actively trying to conceive?”

“A year.”

“Is there anyone in your family that has had problems getting pregnant?”

“No.”

“Does anyone have diabetes? Any autoimmune disorders?”

“No,” you shook your head.

Harry was quiet as the doctor went through an extensive list of questions, everything from the duration of your cycle to how often you and your husband had sex. You wrung your fingers together in your lap as you answered. Before long, he turned his attention to Harry with a similar set of questions, jotting things down as he went.

“Okay, so the good news is that you’re both young and healthy, which is a really good start,” Dr. Sobel started, his hands folded on his desk. He turned his attention back to you. “We’re going to start with an internal ultrasound. Check that everything looks okay, make sure there aren’t any cysts or polyps on your ovaries. We can do that today. Best to jump right into it.”

You nodded as your heart raced in your chest, desperately trying to absorb everything he was saying.

“Judging by your cycle, you should be ovulating in the next week or so. Best case scenario, if everything looks good with the ultrasound, we’ll give you Clomid to start. Sometimes, the egg just needs some help getting where it needs to be.”

“And worst case?” You asked nervously.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. It’s best to try to take this a step at a time. If the Clomid doesn’t work, we have stronger medicine. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll discuss other options. Let’s just try this first. Okay?”

You nodded, feeling Harry’s hand link with your own in your lap. You looked at him, a deep crease indented between his brows as he nodded at you.

“You can come with us for the ultrasound,” Dr. Sobel turned his attention to Harry. “Once we’re done, we’ll send you downstairs to the lab for some bloodwork,” he looked back at you, “And Harry will go to a different lab to give a sperm specimen. We’ll check the count and speed, make sure they’re doing everything they’re supposed to be doing.”

You both nodded in unison.

“I know it’s a lot,” Dr. Sobel spoke warmly. “This is what we do. We will do everything we can to get you pregnant.”

He spoke with vigor, and you appreciated it. It didn’t make any of it any easier, but you liked Dr. Sobel from the start; you liked his kind eyes and eager disposition.

“Let’s go do the ultrasound, it’s just across the hall. Like I said, if everything looks okay, one of the nurses will go over the instructions for the Clomid. It’s pretty straight forward. And I’d suggest trying to have sex every other day for the next two weeks a least. That should give you enough cushion even if you ovulate late.”

The ultrasound was uncomfortable but bearable. Bloodwork was always difficult for you. Usually nurses had a hard time finding a vein, which required multiple sticks. Giving a sperm sample was definitely not at the top of Harry’s list of things he wanted to do, but it was necessary. All in all, the appointment went as well as it could have.

You were relieved that everything looked normal on your ultrasound. So you left the hospital with your bag of Clomid in one hand, and Harry’s hand in the other.

The car ride home was quiet aside from the Kings of Leon album that played through the speakers. You were trying to take in everything that just happened, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this was going to be your foreseeable future. Before you left, you made your appointment to go back to the hospital in about a month for blood work. It was procedure for the office to do a blood pregnancy test, being as it was the most accurate.

A nurse went over your instructions for the Clomid, reiterating that you were to have sex every other day for the next two weeks. Nothing like a strict schedule to get you in the mood. What once was something that grounded you and Harry now felt like a dark cloud looming over your heads. No spontaneity, no build up. It was your job to have sex while you were on this medicine, and a job it felt.

You wanted to ask Harry how he was feeling, yet you didn’t. You stole glances at him, noticed the way he bit his bottom lip as he drove. You were surprised it wasn’t raw with how often he worried it.

He pulled into his side of the garage, both of you getting out of the car and quietly going into the house. You headed towards the kitchen -- immediately turning your coffee machine on -- in desperate need of an afternoon pick-me-up.

Harry followed, grabbing the bag from the counter to open it.

You turned around to watch him, leaning against the counter as the coffee machine heated up. The crease between his brows never settled. He was intently focused on opening the packaging and reading the instructions for your new medication. There was a part of you that wanted to smile at the fact that he was reading the instructions even though the nurse already went over it, as if he wanted to double check that neither of you missed anything.

You had a sudden longing feeling rush over you. He felt far away even while he was near you.

“Gonna take the first dose now?” His tender voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Oh... yeah,” you turned your back to him to fix your coffee.

Silence.

“Baby,” he eased.

And then you broke, gripping the edge of the counter as you choked on a cry.

He was beside you in the next breath, pulling you into his chest with a hand on the back of your head. You wrapped your arms around his waist so tight you probably hurt him, but he didn’t react. He just held you tighter.

“I’m sorry,” you choked into the fabric of his shirt.

He scratched your scalp as he spoke, “What are you sorry for?”

“This. Everything. I can’t even keep it together and we’ve barely even started.”

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” His tone was soft but his words were adamant. He pulled your face from his chest, the tips of his fingers wiping your wet cheeks. You closed your eyes with your face tilted up to his as he wiped it before he settled with his hands cupping either side of your neck. “I don’t want you to do this to yourself. There is nothing for you to be sorry about, okay?”

You nodded as you blew a gust of air between your lips. “We have to have sex every other day.”

He chuckled, “And that’s a problem?”

“It’s gonna feel so forced. By the end of it you’re not even gonna want me.”

He raised his eyebrows as he frowned at you. “I could get hard for you at any given moment. Trust me, that is not going to be a problem.”

“This is gonna be a lot, Harry. You don’t even realize,” you broke away from him with frustration as you looked down to your feet.

“I do realize,” he huffed. “This is the situation, babe. We can’t change it so we just gotta do what we’re told and try not to kill each other in the process.”

You looked up at him with a frown only to find a small smile curling his lips. You exhaled a deep breath before he was pulling you back into his body. He rested his forehead against yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist, your body flush to his. “You’re the last person I wanna fight with,” he murmured.

You nodded against his head. “Me too.”

“I’m with you babe. Whatever you wanna do, I’ll do. You just gotta tell me.”

You squeezed him tighter, moving your face so that you could tuck your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe him in. You stayed pressed into his body like that for a while, to the point where you started to sway the tiniest bit. You knew he was right.

“Take your medicine. And then why don’t you go take a bath. I’m gonna order take out in a little bit.” You nodded into his neck as he rubbed his palms up and down your arms. “Chinese?”

“Yes please,” you mumbled against his skin.

“We’ll eat, we can watch a movie,” he listed the rest of your evening as his hands trailed down your back until he could tuck them into your back pockets. “And then I’m gonna fuck my wife.”

You exhaled at his words before you pulled your face from his neck to look at him. One hand reached up to sweetly pet his fingers across your cheek before pulling you in by your chin to press his warm mouth to yours.

“Go,” he uttered against your mouth with a soft tap to your behind.

***

- Monday, June 17, 2019 -

Your husband’s hand was tightly grasped between both of yours as it rested in your lap. The waiting room was packed but completely silent.

The Clomid didn’t work. Your period arrived like clockwork right along with your looming disappointment.

You discovered you weren’t ovulating, which in the fertility world, was a big no-no. Dr. Sobel switched you to a different, more intense medicine called Letrozole in an attempt to force ovulation. It was a larger dose and a stronger form of Clomid. But with that came stronger side effects. You constantly had a headache and more times than not you woke up in the morning, drenched in sweat. But the kicker was that it upset your stomach, which you immediately took as pregnancy nausea, only to discover that you were still, in fact, not pregnant.

Your next step was an Intrauterine Insemination or “IUI”. You preferred the acronym, it sounded less scary. You stopped at the lab to drop off Harry’s sperm thirty minutes prior to your appointment. At least he had the option to jerk off into his little cup in the privacy of his own bathroom this time. One bright side, you supposed.

You sat together in that waiting room, hand in hand, as you waited for your name to be called.

The IUI had been explained as a catheter being inserted directly into your uterus so that the sperm could get a “head start”. You had multiple office visits leading up to that day, ultrasounds to check that your eggs were growing sufficiently and blood tests to check when your LH hormone spiked.

You had a lot of tests over the last few months. You’d been poked and prodded more than you’d ever been in your life. There was a test that checked that there wasn’t a blockage in your fallopian tubes, one to check that there weren’t any cysts in your ovaries. Both were extremely painful, but came back clear.

There was no solid answer as to why you weren’t getting pregnant.

That was maybe the worst part. Everything you did moving forward was a shot in the dark, a “maybe”.

It was getting expensive, every test and procedure was an out of pocket expense. How long could you even keep that up before going into debt? The more time that passed, the more you started to feel like all of it was for nothing. The failed attempts, the tricks your mind played on you, the longing and hoping only to continually be let down. It was exhausting.

The office door opened. “Styles.”

You looked to Harry. He squeezed your hand reassuringly as he mouthed I love you before you both got up and followed the nurse back to your room.

***

“Hey mom,” you answered your phone as you walked to your bedroom with your clean laundry basket on your hip.

“Hi honey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “It definitely wasn’t the most pleasant feeling but I survived.”

“Oh I’m sure.”

You knew she was stressed for you, as much as she tried to hide it. She called often to check on you. After every appointment, every blood test, every procedure. Even on days when you didn’t have anything, she called. Mostly to check on you mentally. She knew the toll everything was taking on you.

“So what did they say? When do you go back?”

“The blood test is July fifteenth.”

“And they’ll call you that day with results?”

“Yup,” you confirmed.

Her voice cracked the tiniest bit. “I know it’s a lot, sweetie. I wish I could help.”

“I know, mom.” You tried to sound reassuring, like you weren’t breaking on the inside every minute of the day.

“How’s Harry handling it?”

“Um, fine I guess. We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. We just feel really… distant. It’s hard to explain.”

“It’s hard on a couple,” she agreed. “Maybe you should try to do something together to take your mind off it. Reconnect.”

Usually, you’d reconnect when you had sex. But that was few and far between now. It was as if your sex life was on a strict schedule, only important and necessary when you were actively trying to conceive.

You felt like you were losing the passion you once shared. It used to be exciting, spontaneous, a way to unwind after a long day. But now long days were met with longer nights. Unspoken awkwardness, small talk and a bed with enough space between you that another person could fit.

You felt so far away from him that it physically hurt.

And the more you thought about it, the more you knew, that was the worst part.

***

- Friday, July 12, 2019 -

You heard the back door open and close loudly from where you stood washing dishes.

It was a few minutes before Harry appeared in the kitchen. You glanced over your shoulder to see him gently place his photography bag on the counter.

“You’re home late,” you stated simply.

“Yeah, the shoot ran late.”

“Mhm.”

He huffed the smallest breath, “What?”

You paused at his tone, shaking your head as you placed clean dishes on the drying mat beside the sink. “Nothing.”

You were met with silence and assumed Harry had left the room. But then he muttered your name in the saddest voice you’d ever heard from him.

When you turned around, his eyes were glazed over and pleading with you to stop.

“Why are you being like this?” He spoke low, his voice deep with emotion.

You turned towards him once you turned the water off, drying your hands as you leaned back on the counter. “I’m not being like anything.”

“Yes you are. You’re so… cold.” He spoke slowly, as if he was contemplating his words as he said them. “I know you’re stressed. So am I. But… we don’t act like this with each other.”

You looked at your tired husband, the way his forehead creased and his mouth turned down with sadness. You weren’t even sure how you’d gotten to that place. A place where your conversations felt forced, where you couldn’t remember the last time you really felt intimate with him, where you looked at him and immediately felt guilt.

Your lashes brimmed with tears. “You feel… so far away,” you whispered. “You’ve been working so much. But even when you’re here you... you feel so far away.”

He was in front of you the next second, his body pushing yours back to the counter as he grasped your face between his palms. “I’m right fucking here. Just let me in.”

And then his mouth was slanted on yours. Warm and wet and completely intoxicating.

He pulled back just as quickly, and as soon as he did, all you felt was longing. You missed him, and all it took was one single kiss for that feeling to wash over you like a hurricane.

You leaned up as you pulled him by the back of his neck to meet his waiting mouth. Your hands pushed up into his hair, grasping tightly as your tongue met his. Your heart raced as his hands traveled the expanse of your sides until they gripped your hips to pull you even closer.

His breathing was ragged as he kissed you. His tongue passed yours deeply and a chill went down your spine. You’d forgotten what it was like to taste him like that.

“Just let me in,” he murmured against your mouth as his hands slipped under your shirt. His palms were burning hot against your back.

You started to undo his trousers in response. The familiar clanking of his belt as you undid the button and pulled his zipper down made your stomach twist. His hands were yanking at your sweatpants in return, pushing them down your thighs until they pooled at your feet.

Every movement was rushed and the air was charged with lust.

No sooner did your pants hit the floor did Harry haul you up onto the counter. He pushed your legs apart, slotting his waist between your thighs as his mouth sucked kiss after kiss from your lips. It was so fast. Seconds later he was reaching between you to pull his length from his boxers. And then he was pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and pushing into you.

You gasped at the feel of him, thick and warm as he bottomed out.

He gave you less time than usual to adjust before he was finding a steady, hard rhythm. His strokes were deliberate. His grunts mingled with your moans on every thrust. The nails of one of your hands dug into the back of his neck as the other pulled tightly on his hair.

“Fuck,” his lips parted from yours with a moan. He looked down to where your bodies met before he was pushing his face into your neck to suck your sensitive skin.

You let your head fall back on your neck, completely consumed by him. His grunts were just below your ear, vibrating against your skin as he fucked into you fiercely. Your back burned and your hips were already sore from where his fingers indented your skin. But you loved it; every sound he made, every thrust, every single thing.

“Oh my god,” you moaned up to the ceiling as you squeezed his hair tighter.

He pulled his face from your neck, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he kissed you. His pupils were completely blown out and his lashes were wet from his pleasure. His brows were furrowed and his mouth hung open, his lips dangerously pink.

“Touch yourself for me,” he grunted as he kept his pace.

You whimpered when you leaned in to kiss him, only for him to move his head back minutely so that he could look down as your fingers found your clit. His hair brushed your lips as he watched you rub yourself in time with his strokes, tingles running overdrive through your body. He was so deep, every single thrust felt like he was in the pit of your stomach.

His nose brushed yours when he lifted his head. “Come on,” he whispered his encouragement into your mouth, “Please.”

One of his hands lifted to grip the hair at the back of your head. He held you in place as he fucked you harder and watched as your orgasm painted pleasure across your features. He groaned in approval, his eyes not leaving yours until you physically couldn’t keep your lids from falling closed.

He pushed his face into the column of your throat as he fucked you through it, grunting beautifully when his hips stilled as his orgasm filled you.

You caught your breath against each other’s necks, completely still as you came down from your highs. His hands eventually moved to your waist, squeezing momentarily before his softening cock slipped from you.

He kissed you slowly, his lips pliable and soft against your own. The time he took was a stark contrast from what you just did. He cupped your jaw gently as his tongue teased your lip before biting gingerly.

His voice was just shy of a whisper. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

He smoothed his hand down your thigh before he pulled away from you and tugged his pants back up to sit low on his hips, not bothering to button them again. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge as you slowly slid off the counter, pulling your own pants back on.

He smiled sleepily at you in contentedness before disappearing around the corner, his feet heavy against your wood floors before disappearing upstairs.

You enjoyed the distraction. It was nice to feel him and get a glimpse of that passion that had once been such a big part of your relationship.

But as soon as you were alone, your emptiness returned like a freight train.

***

- Monday, July 15, 2019 -

You should have heard from the office by 3pm.

It was 3:30pm and still no word.

You and Harry were sitting on the couch, curled under a blanket. Your house was icy cold in the summer, both of you preferring your AC to be cranked down as a stark contrast to the heat outside. Your TV was on and both of you were pretending to watch it. You had an eerie feeling as you waited to hear your fate. Did the IUI work?

Harry left work early, arriving home at 2:45pm so that you could be together for the call. It’d been the longest 45 minutes of your life.

He’d been working so much, booking back-to-back shoots that inevitably made him work late nearly every night. There was a part of you that knew he was using it to cope, a way to get away from your current situation and the stress that infertility brought. But there was another part of you that felt like he was using it to get away from you.

The rational part of your brain fought with that little voice in the back of your head constantly. Harry would never do that. He loved you. He was in this with you. But was he? Could he ever really understand how you felt and what you were doing to yourself, both physically and mentally? You weren’t sure. Maybe a part of you resented him for it, that he wasn’t at the forefront of it all and then therefore didn’t feel as much pain. But then you immediately hated yourself for even thinking that. You knew this was causing him pain too.

And what if he couldn’t take your mood swings and the distance you put between you and your relationship. Maybe you were driving your husband away. And yet, you couldn’t stop.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when your phone rang, both you and your husbands eyes going to where it sat on your coffee table. You didn’t move for a half a beat, just stared at your doctors office contact scrolling across the screen.

You took a deep breath before picking it up to answer it.

“Hello?” - “This is she.” - You grabbed Harry’s hand, squeezing tightly as you listened to the nurse on the other line. - “Are you serious?” - You squeezed tighter, looking over to him with tears immediately springing to your eyes, not taking your eyes off his as you spoke into the phone. - “Okay,” you choked. - “Yes, I understand.” - “Okay. Okay. Yes, thank you.”

You ended the call, dropping the phone to your lap where it immediately slipped to the floor with a thud.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, watching Harry’s face as it changed from concern to surprised elation.

He choked in disbelief. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant,” you repeated as you cried.

And then he was grabbing you and hauling you over into his arms and lap. Kissing your face and lips. Crying into your neck and repeating you’re pregnant over and over and over. Squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe.

And you cried and kissed and squeezed him right back.

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please reblog it :) And I would LOVE to hear your thoughts! xxx

- PART THREE -

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #ayhom #we emo we emo we emo WE EMO

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formeryelpers · 4 years ago

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Chicken Now, 817 Plaza Dr, West Covina, CA 91790

Chicken Now is the reason I look forward to eating at the mall. It’s the best option at the Plaza West Covina food court. I always get the same thing now – the kid’s tender meal ($6.89) which comes with two tenders, fries, and a soft drink. The chicken sandwiches are fine but the bun quality is average. The chicken and the fries are the best things. I like the fries better than the chicken.

The chicken is available fried or grilled and they only use white meat. Get your chicken in a sandwich, wrap, salad, potato bowl or as a box meal. You can add sides and a drink. Choose a dipping sauce: spicy, mild, ranch, Italian, buffalo, BBQ, honey mustard or Caesar. I always get spicy. The food always seems to be piping hot even though it comes out in a few minutes.

Chicken tenders: Piping hot, moist, with a thin breading. It didn’t have much crunch. The breading is lightly seasoned. It’s hot and juicy but the batter could have more seasoning.

Fries: Love how they dip them in something for extra flavor and crunch. They’re soft on the outside and crunchy on the outside. The fries are wider than average but not steak fries. I dip them in the spicy sauce. The spicy sauce is tangy and peppery – like a spicy Thousand Island.

Service was friendly.

4 out of 5 stars

By Lolia S.

#Chicken Now #West Covina #Plaza West Covina #fried chicken #chicken tenders #fast food #mall food #food court

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365-money-diary · 4 years ago

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DAYS 43-49

DAY FORTY-THREE

7:30 AM - Up a little early so I can close on my house. The process is pretty easy and I feel safe about it and such. We do it on the front porch with 6 foot folding table.

8:30 AM - I need to re-caulk the side door trim before I can start painting so I do that while I make my chemex. This is fun (not) because I don’t own a caulk gun.

10:30 AM - Eat a plant yogurt

12:00 PM - Snack on chips and salsa – damn the salsa I made is so good this time. Also make salad for lunch. I’m set up in the kitchen today which is clearly a bad scene because I keep going to the pantry for more snacks. Relocate to the bedroom.

2:00 PM - I really should get my barre class out of the way today. I have a 4PM happy hour and I know I won’t want to work out after that, so I do a 10 minute low impact ride and then start class.

4:00 PM - I get done with most of the class and hop on zoom. Make refried beans in the instant pot for dinner while we chat.

5:00 PM - Finish the zoom and knock out the last 10 minutes of barre. I don’t like to split the classes up like that but oh well.

6:00 PM - Finish making the beans as well as rice and jackfruit for burritos. K isn’t hungry so I watch an episode of The Challenge before making the burritos.

7:30 PM - Ok these are really good. Dang! I don’t want to drink tonight so I open a La Croix and try to hydrate.

DAY FORTY-THREE TOTAL: $0

DAY FORTY-FOUR

8:00 AM - I’m awake and I feel really good. K is still pretty conked out and I get the idea to go to Cartel. I haven’t been in a few months because cases were super high but now seems like a good opportunity. This is the one thing I do behind K’s back. It’s contactless and it’s super safe so I don’t really consider it to be a risk but I know he isn’t ready to drink things directly out of containers they’re served in on the same day you buy them so let’s just leave this between us. Buy a hot oat milk latte and tip $10. $17.57

10:00 AM - Make a chemex so K doesn’t suspect anything. Hang with him on the couch for a bit and then start moving around the furniture in the kitchen to start taping.

11:30 AM - Take a break to cook breakfast - tofu/egg tacos with field roast sausage.

12:15 PM - Back to taping. It takes forev, but I think I did a good job.

3:45 PM - First coat done. Watch an episode of The challenge before I apply the second.

5:30 PM - Done with the second. Watch more of the challenge.

7:00 PM - Dinner tonight is pozole. I take my time making it and drink a glass of wine while I cook.

8:00 PM - Dang this is so delicious.

DAY FORTY-FOUR TOTAL: $17.57

DAY FORTY-FIVE

9:00 AM - Woah I am SO SORE. What the hell? My quads. Make a chemex and work on putting the kitchen back together, but I run out of time and have to meet with S and her BF on zoom. K joins me and it’s a really good time.

11:15 PM - Ok back to tape removal.

12:15 PM - Done! / Looks good! Make more tofu tacos for breakfast.

2:00 PM - My boss is applying for citizenship in the US and she asked me to help build her a website. I have totally spaced it over the past two weeks and get cracking on it today. Make some good progress and send her what I have.

4:00 PM - Watch some episodes of The Challenge. For whatever reason this feels like the first time I’ve actually relaxed this weekend and I am here for it.

6:00 PM - We drive to a bar I DJ at on the reg during non-pandemic times to do a pick up of their Valentine’s Day special. Neither K or I are big V Day fans and we feel like this is good enough to “celebrate.” We get two veggie dogs, fries and a bottle of wine to take home. J (my friend who owns the bar) runs my card for $31ish and I tip $20. K insists he pays and he venmos me $50. $1.89

7:00 PM - I haven’t had fries in like… a year. And these ones are really delicious! The wine is good too. Spend the rest of the evening catching up on my blog. I haven’t felt very motivated to work on it this month.

8:00 PM - Get a charge from Amazon… S is buying movies again. Make a venmo request for $16 and she fulfills it. $0.19

DAY FORTY-FIVE TOTAL: $2.08

DAY FORTY-SIX

8:30 AM - WOW I am still sore WTF. Make a chemex and notice my tea kettle has a rust spot. Damnit. At this point, I would rather just buy an electric kettle with a gooseneck spout to get rid of both of my kettles, but I’m trying to stick to my budget this month. I’ve been covering K’s groceries throughout the pandemic and he owes me around $2k at this point. Because of this, I’ve kind of cut back on clothing and other frivolous purchases until he starts to pay me back so I can still save money every month. But rust is rust and I don’t want to get sick. Buy a Stagg EKG kettle with a nice wood handle. $160.62

10:00 AM - plant yogurt, a clementine and Pure Barre weekly charge. $15

12:00 PM - It’s salad time but I’m kind of out of tempeh and am a little burnt out on the miso Asian vibe anyways. Toss together some greens, bell pepper, onion, carrots, snap peas, cucumber, and a frozen Quorn spicy chicken patty and top it with cashew ranch. It’s honestly really good.

4:00 PM - Call M to wish him a happy bday. Tell him either next Sunday or the Sunday after that we will do a lunch thing together in his backyard to celebrate. Drink a nuun while we chat.

5:15 PM - I do a pure barre workout but make the mistake of doing it on my work computer at the post-workday slacks are coming in hot this AM. My body’s HR doesn’t really pick up but I still feel proud of myself for pushing thru the soreness.

7:00 PM - K and I eat big burritos for dinner with jackfruit, beans, rice, lettuce, tofutti sour cream, cheeze, and jalapenos with chips and salsa. They’re so good and I am sad that we’re out of tortilla chips and salsa now.

8:00 PM - Since dinner was kinda big and I had fries yesterday, I spend the evening hydrating instead of drinking wine. K and I watch a 4 part docuseries on Elisa Lam & the Cecil Hotel. At some point he goes off to work on some stuff and I wrap up this website I’m building for my boss who is working on getting her green card.

DAY FORTY-SIX TOTAL: $175.62

DAY FORTY-SEVEN

9:00 AM - Make a chemex. Finish the site and send it to my boss who approves. Hopefully I don’t have to actually post it for her. I hate dealing with hosting and such.

10:00 AM - I don’t really want yogurt today and find a small portion of tofu scramble leftover from Sunday. Heat that up and top with truffle hot sauce.

12:00 PM - Kill the rest of the salad ingredients today by making the same dish as yesterday but with peas instead of red bell peppers. Review the site I made for my boss. She sends me a $100 amazon gift card! How sweet.

5:00 PM - Get sucked in a meeting and am not able to leave until 5:30. I’m not interested in exercising this late so I zone out on the couch for a bit and snack on some gf pretzels. Start a new season of The Challenge. Drink a glass of wine.

7:00 PM - Heat up leftover pozole for dinner. Eat with K while we “watch” a hockey game.

8:30 PM - Pour another glass of wine and chat on the phone with Q. I end up feeling super antsy halfway through our conversation and decide to take a walk. I do a nice loop down to the lake and back to my house. Next time we decide that we will walk together.

10:30 PM - I check my phone after our conversation to see 100 slack messages from various team members. Looks like there is something going on which will affect the report I have to give tomorrow. Read thru, ask some questions and feel good about what I have to change.

DAY FORTY-SEVEN TOTAL: $0

DAY FORTY-EIGHT

8:15 AM - Up a little early today so I can adjust my report. Make a chemex while I pull numbers.

9:30 AM - Present the info. It’s good stuff! My boss is out of town so I think today should be pretty chill. Get a note from my bank that the wire of leftover funds from the mortgage stuff has been transferred to my checking totaling $1250.39.

12:00 PM - Make broccoli fried rice for lunch. Things turn chaotic for the rest of the day and by the time I know it, it’s 4:00 PM

4:15 PM - Decide to cut out early today and take a live barre class. 20 minutes in (10 minutes before 5), I get a message from my teammate asking to hop on zoom. She has computer issues so I’m actually able to finish the class before she’s ready.

7:00 PM - Finally done working. Rinse off and make pasta for dinner. Drink 3 glasses of wine.

9:30 PM - K and I play Mario Kart for a while before turning in.

DAY FORTY-EIGHT TOTAL: $0

DAY FORTY-NINE

8:30 AM - Today has to be more chill than yesterday… It just has to be. Make a chemex. See that my hair dresser is selling shirts for her shop. Venmo her. $25

12:00 PM - Prep chicken seitan shreds. Broccoli fried rice for lunch with seltzer.

1:30 PM - Finish making the seitan, eat an apple, gf pretzels and carrots. I realize I forgot to eat breakfast this AM. Ugh.

5:00 PM - My butt is super sore from yesterday but I do my barre workout anyways. It’s so nice to not be interrupted. My cal burn is low but I don’t even care. It’s just nice to move.

6:00 PM - Rinse off and prep dinner. We make buffalo chicken sandwiches with roasted potatoes. They turn out pretty good and I’m excited to eat them over the next few days.

8:00 PM - Drink a glass of wine. I google if I can have more since I’m getting the COVID vaccine tomorrow and it seems like one is ok but maybe not more so I decide against it.

DAY FORTY-NINE TOTAL: $25

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