#BBQ Grills for Lazy Man

[grillpartshub-blog]

Lazy Man Barbecue- Built in Grill- Natural Gas Model SHOP NOW!!

[capquinn]

ok we've been losing our minds about seeing quinn with kids but imagine him losing his mind seeing you with kids and babies. they're just so naturally drawn to you, smiling and giggling at you. when it's time to leave the kids pout, the babies cry and refuse to let go of you. it breaks his heart a little, but then he thinks about how you have that effect on kids and his heart is just so full and warm. he can't stop smiling thinking about how great of a mom you're going to be one day

It’s something Quinn’s been noticing more and more — how babies and kids always seem to be drawn to you, like there’s some invisible pull. He sees it everywhere, little moments that only fuel the quiet ache he’s been carrying, a bad case of baby fever that just keeps getting stronger.

It was a late summer afternoon at his friend’s BBQ, the kind of day where everything felt a little softer around the edges, the air warm and filled with lazy laughter and the smell of grilling food. Quinn was mid-conversation with a few of his buddies when he glanced over and spotted you down on the driveway, a piece of colourful chalk in your hand, showing his friend’s daughter how to draw a flower.

You were laughing, your voice floating over the soft hum of conversation as you patiently guided her tiny hand.

“Like this, see?” you were saying, helping her press the chalk down firmly. “And a little harder here — see how it makes the colour brighter?”

The little girl, determined to get it right, nodded with intense concentration, her face scrunched up in that serious way kids get when they’re trying so hard. She pressed down on the chalk with all her might, the green and purple smudges already staining her fingers. And you, just as focused, knelt beside her, not minding that your knees were getting chalky too.

Quinn couldn’t look away. The sight of you like that, so at ease, laughing with a child who was barely up to your waist, tugged at something in him. He imagined a version of this scene in a few years’ time — maybe it was a little girl with your eyes, or his determined frown, a toddler who insisted on doing everything by herself. He could already see the two of you, that same effortless connection, sharing these small, beautiful moments, and his heart did this odd little flip that made his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.

The little girl tugged on your hand, proudly holding up her chalk drawing. “Look! I did it!”

Your smile lit up, and you nodded, leaning closer to inspect it. “You did! That’s amazing! I think you’re a pro at this, honestly.”

Quinn’s friend nudged him with an amused grin. “Man, she’s a natural. I think the kids like her more than us.”

Quinn only nodded, distracted, not fully hearing what was said because his mind was spinning. It wasn’t just that you were good with kids — it was the way you seemed to understand them, to genuinely enjoy being there with them, in their world. And suddenly, this idea started to blossom, the thought of a life where this wasn’t just an afternoon at a BBQ but something that happened every day. He pictured you like this, kneeling in your own driveway with a little one by your side, his heart pounding with a kind of certainty he’d never felt before.

Lost in thought, he didn’t realise he was smiling until you caught his eye and gave him a playful little wave. Quinn’s chest tightened, a shy grin pulling at his lips as he waved back. He barely heard his friend teasing him about being “smitten” because in that moment, all he could think about was how right this felt, how natural, and how he wanted that future with you more than anything.

It happened again a few weeks later at the grocery store, a place Quinn usually breezed through, his list memorised, rarely giving more than a glance to the colourful chaos of the cereal aisle. But that day, he was momentarily caught up, staring at the endless choices, debating between two boxes. That’s when he heard it — a tiny giggle that somehow cut through the chatter of shoppers, the hum of the store. Glancing over, he saw you a few feet away, your attention fully focused on a baby sitting in a shopping cart beside you.

The baby, not much older than a year, was staring up at you with wide, amazed eyes, completely entranced as you wiggled your fingers and made a soft, silly noise, your face lit with an easy smile. You repeated the sound, and the baby’s mouth dropped open, then let out another round of giggles, that beautiful, innocent laughter that would soften anyone’s heart.

Quinn couldn’t help but pause, frozen mid-decision, just watching. The baby’s mother had been focused on reading the back of an oatmeal box, scanning ingredients with the usual distracted look of a tired parent. But after a moment, she glanced up, noticing the small, quiet exchange unfolding beside her cart. Her gaze softened as she took in the sight of her baby reaching toward you, chubby fingers stretching, drawn to the warmth in your playful smile,

And then Quinn’s heart did that strange, achy thing it had been doing lately, where he felt both immensely full and oddly vulnerable, like he’d stumbled onto a vision of the future without realising it.

He imagined you like this, but with your own baby — a little one with his dark hair and your bright smile, or maybe a mix of everything he loved most about you. The two of you would share that same joyful bubble, so completely at ease with each other, lost in some private little world only you two would understand.

Quinn placed both cereal boxes into the basket, feeling a strange warmth build in his chest, one that he couldn’t seem to shake. His fingers tightened around the handle of the basket, the weight of the thought filling him with a kind of quiet longing. It was such a simple scene, one he’d seen a dozen times with strangers, but with you…it was different. He was already imagining a life that was filled with moments like this, and the ache that came with it was exhilarating, a reminder of how badly he wanted this — wanted you, wanted this life with you and all that came with it.

“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, glancing over and catching his gaze, breaking him out of his reverie.

He blinked, realised the mother and baby had moved on, then nodded, feeling a soft blush creep up his neck as he tried to play it cool.

“Yeah, just… got distracted,” he muttered, but he couldn’t hide the small, knowing smile that stayed with him all the way to the checkout, the warmth of the thought still lingering as he followed you down the aisle.

The feeling roots itself deeply, one he can’t quite ignore as he watches you with his cousin’s 8-month-old, who’s been wide-eyed and mesmerised by you since the moment you walked in. The baby, fussy with everyone else, settles effortlessly in your arms, chubby fingers curling tightly around your shirt, her small head resting trustingly against your shoulder.

Quinn’s cousin chuckles, watching you both. “You’ve got some kind of superpower,” she says, amused.

You smile down at the baby, shifting your arms to hold her closer as you sway gently, instinctively.

“She just needed someone to chat with,” you murmur, your voice soft and soothing.

You don’t see Quinn across the room, his gaze fixed on you, like he’s trying to memorise this scene, the tenderness in the way you hold the baby, your gentle laugh, the look in your eyes. His chest tightens, that strange warmth filling him again that’s both beautiful and a little overwhelming.

From beside him, his mom nudges his arm lightly. “You’ve got a look there, Quinn,” Ellen says quietly, watching him watch you.

Quinn gives a faint smile, eyes still locked on you, almost in disbelief.

“She’s… good with kids,” he says softly, as if the realisation itself has him feeling a little unsteady. “Just — look at her.”

Ellen’s face softens, a knowing smile lighting her eyes. “Some people just have that kind of warmth. Kids feel it. She’s going to be such a wonderful mom someday.”

Quinn glances at her, but his gaze quickly finds its way back to you, his heart doing an uneven thud as he watches you look down at the baby, cooing softly as her eyes close. You look up then, meeting his eyes, and you send him the sweetes smile, one that makes him feel like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

His mom places a hand on his back. “You’d make a wonderful dad, too, Quinn,” she whispers.

Quinn swallows hard, feeling a sudden swell of emotion he wasn’t prepared for. His mom’s words settle over him, and he feels it, the truth of them, sinking in deep. He’s always thought about it in passing, but the whole idea feels closer, more real, like something he could almost reach out and touch.

“You really think so?” he murmurs, voice barely audible, eyes flickering to his mom.

Ellen nods, her hand a steady presence on his back. “Absolutely,” she whispers, surprised that he even has to ask, her smile softening. “Have you two talked about kids lately?”

Quinn’s face flushes slightly as he keeps his gaze on you.

“A little,” he admits quietly, a small, almost shy smile creeping onto his face. “I mean, I think about it all the time.”

Ellen chuckles, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Well, whenever you’re both ready, you’ll be wonderful parents.” She pauses, trying to keep her smile from widening. “I can see it already. A Baby Hughes with those gorgeous dark waves,” she laughs, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Quinn shakes his head, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gently swats her hand away. “Mum,” he murmurs, trying to hide how much he’s secretly loving the idea.

Ellen laughs, her hand falling to his shoulder in a gentle squeeze. “No pressure, of course,” she says, though there’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes that she can’t quite hide. “But when you do, I know you two will make a great team.” She looks back over at you, voice dropping. “You both have so much love to give.”

As he watches you across the room, swaying gently with his cousin’s baby asleep in your arms, he can’t shake the feeling that someday, hopefully soon, this picture will be a little different — a little closer to home.

Later that night, in the cosy guest room at his parents’ house, you lie curled up against Quinn’s side, watching the soft flicker of the TV in the dim light. His arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder as you both unwind from the family gathering.

In his other hand, he’s casually scrolling through his phone, when he pauses, then turns the screen your way. It’s a picture his cousin posted of her daughter in your arms at the party. In the photo, you’re smiling softly, looking down at the baby as she rests against you, and the sight of it, even through a screen, makes his chest warm.

“That’s a good picture,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, thoughtful.

You smile, curling up closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. Something about that moment earlier had felt so natural, so easy. And as you look at the picture, that feeling stirs again, warming you in a way that feels both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

After a pause, you swallow softly, gathering your thoughts, and then, before you can second-guess yourself, you say, “hace you thought about having… you know, a baby? Starting a family?”

Quinn tenses for a split second, and you can feel his heart pick up, thumping faster under your cheek. He pulls back a little to look at you, eyes wide with surprise.

“Did my mom talk to you?” he asks, a hint of suspicion, as if he’s caught onto something.

You let out a laugh, the tension breaking instantly, and sit up, leaning back against the headboard as you turn your body toward him, raising an eyebrow. “No, why would she?”

Quinn rubs the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “She, uh… she sort of mentioned it earlier. Said she thought we’d make a great team as parents.”

He glances down, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, and there’s a shy look in his eyes when he looks back up at you. The gentle vulnerability in his expression makes your heart squeeze, and you can’t help but smile.

“So,” you say, voice small, “what do you think?”

He shifts a little closer, his hand sliding to the back of your knee, fingers tracing gentle patterns. “I’ve actually thought about it a lot lately,” he says, his voice steady, direct, like he’s sharing a part of himself he’s been holding onto for a while. He glances at you, his hand giving your thigh a soft squeeze.

There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, an openness that makes your heart flutter. “I just… I can see it, you know?” he continues, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his eyes linger on yours. “Us, with a little one. And…” He chuckles, pausing, looking a bit shy, “I wouldn’t mind if that happened sooner rather than later.”

You feel a warmth rise in your cheeks, the blush creeping up as you take in his words, your heart skipping a beat. He’s watching you with such earnestness, a quiet hope in his gaze that matches the longing you’ve kept close to your own heart.

You say it softly, almost like a secret, “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

The words settle into the quiet between you, filling the space with a warmth that’s been building, unspoken, for weeks. Neither of you rushes to say more, just letting the admission linger, letting it shape into something real and close.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

i wrote homeward a little while ago that sorta touches on this too if u wanna check that out too hehe

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[writingfromasgard]

You bring your lame ass boyfriend to the 141 BBQ. They're all staring at him, wondering why the hell you're with him.

The ask little questions, poking around to see if they can figure out why. They realize what it is halfway through the BBQ that you are just used to his lame, lazy ass that you don't see how a man should treat you.

They spend the entire BBQ getting things for you - drinks, food, etc. At one point, Soap is massaging your feet while Gaz is working your shoulders.

Your boyfriend? Don't even care. He isn't seeing how you blush or try to stop them from grabbing you the biggest (veggie or meat) burger/wing/steak off the grill.

[Optional baby under cut]

Your baby won't settle down after being there a couple of hours, you think you should leave when Price, who realizes you've had the baby the entire time, scoops him up.

He's blabbering about what a handsome guy is - must have his mom's genetics. It gives you enough time to make up a bottle and of course, Gaz is asking to feed him.

Soap and Ghost run a little mission of their own while the other two distract you. Askin' you why he's not doing this or that, if you do most of the work, where's he work at, etc.

[lunarsun12]

The Meat Thief

Masterlist

The kids were so excited to eat that really expensive meat. Which Yeosnag stumbled upon 2 days ago and Seonghwa promised to make them Korean BBQ.

When Seonghwa gave Yunho meat duty, he noticed the meat was gone and someone left the note with ‘sorry’ with a smiley face at the end. Yunho immediately knew who it was and automatically blamed it on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung couldn’t believe he got framed like that, as he practically saw San carrying outside and got kicked out of the balcony.

Wooyoung refused to let San getaway with this! Why did San steal the meat?

Back at Ateez Family Chat

Today 21:00

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: EVERYONE GET YOUR BUTT HERE. LET ME EXPLAIN!

Yeosang🍗: I should have made Yunho burn your Jimin album. When I had the chance

Yunho🐶: Wooyoung, what there to explain. It has you written over it! You the one who stole the expensive beef and ate it for yourself

Mingi🦄: Wooyoung did? I thought I saw San carrying it to grill outside

Yunho🐶: Mingi, stop defending Wooyoung! It’s obvious it was him

Jongho🍎: Yunho has point, San has never done nothing wrong unless wooyoung put him up to it!

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: Mingi is right!! It is San! He is the one who stole it!

Jongho🍎: Wooyoung bro, I know you hate the fact San is not really yours but you have to accept. He has grown up

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: AISH ASK THE MAN HIMSELF! He will own up, after I talked to him

Few mins later…

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: Remember what we agreed on

San🗻: Remember what? Ohhh yeah, Wooyoungie made me stole it ^_^

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: That not what we discussed!!

Seonghwa🌸: Kids calm down, Mingi is right. It was San who stole it!

Yunho🐶: Say what?

Yeosang🍗: Did wooyoung order him to do it…?

Seonghwa🌸: No wooyoung didn’t order him anything…I just happen to saw San hopping away happily saying ‘I am a smarty pants’

San🗻: Eomma you have no proof!

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: I checked the old man phone. Cause I know he has been spying on us again…I got video to prove it

Wooyoung sends the video…

Yunho🐶: Well this is unexpected…

Yeosang🍗: Never trusted that cute face

Yunho🐶: You thought San was cute?

Yeosang🍗: Huh? I-I didn’t say anything. That other spawn of Wooyoung…

Mingi🦄: YOU SEE! I wasn’t lying and you all started to gang up on me 😭😭

Jongho🍎: We didn’t gang up on you…

Mingi🦄: Huh? I saw San rallying up you all to annoy me…

Yunho🐶: Oh he must misheard the convo, to grab him so we can gang up on San…

Seonghwa🌸: He hasn’t been the same, after Toby is gone. Why did you steal it?

San🗻: Ermmm? Cause I was hungry and prove I can be smart without wooyoung

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: San is a good child, he must want to surprise you all

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: The surprise is in his stomach!

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: He means no harm, plus that meat is expired. I forgot to throw it out

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: It wouldn’t have gone to waste, if someone stop snooping into other people business…. so dinner was cancelled

Seonghwa🌸: Hongjong, my bestie calls! I can’t have anymore kids running around (see seonghwa therapy session here)

Yunho🐶: I am now less annoyed that we didn’t get to eat it

Yeosang🍗: Only somone who is this dumb, didn’t see the expiry date

San🗻: My stomach doesn’t feel good now

Jongho🍎: So is mine…

Seonghwa🌸: JONGHO? You ate some of it too?

San🗻: I shouldn’t have listened to Jongho, when he said I should steal the meat!!

Jongho🍎: Yah! It was for good cause!!

Jongho🍎: I deal you with later after my trip to the bathroom

Wooyoung🐈‍⬛: I knew it! It always Jongho using my San for his misdeed

Yeosang🍗: You do that as well 24/7 especially against me!!

Yunho🐶: Thanks to Woosan, I have to be on Yeosang + Mingi watch…

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: I think we learn a valuable lesson here. Learn to share and you won’t end up like them

Seonghwa🌸: Orrr don’t be like your Appa and is too lazy to throw things out

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: What about the sharing part?

Seonghwa🌸: Hongjong? Have you been living under a rock. Sharing does not exist in this household after Wooyoung…

[apphiarothowrites]

Hehehe Back on my bullshit

My Marco Cora bullshit to be exact

Here’s the plan

Marco is an ER doctor, Cora is.. well hes Cora and trips to the er is a frequent occurrence

So basically, Marco is working a double shift and he wanders in to the waiting room for the minute break he has plopping down beside a tall blonde who has a sleeping kid in his lap. Marco just closes his eyes for maybe- maybe 10 seconds when he feels a tiny hand tugging at his scrubs.

He looks down to the kid looking serious (or as serious as a kid can look)

“Hey are you a doctor.”

Marco blinks as the tinny applause erupts form the ancient tv.

“Yeah.”

“Cora-san needs help.”

Now that statement doesn’t get marcos attention, but the fucking stab wound in the guys arm the kid points out sure as hell does.

The presumed ‘Cora-san’ is hauled into a bed asap. The taller blonde muttering about ‘not wanting to be a bother.’ While the smaller blonde chugs an expresso before suturing the other up.

By the next day marco is convinced it was all some hallucination brought on by chronic stress

Two days later he is proved wrong as the giant of a man now wearing a flamingo pattern shirt and khakis awkwardly waves from the plastic chairs, his leg in a pink cast.

The third time Marco stops believing the other man is a hallucination (he’s still iffy on the tiny shadow that seems to follow the giant around, lecturing him about medical studies)

The fourth time he genuinely worries that it’s a domestic abuse case (it’s not, he’s just that clumsy the shadow stoutly assures him)

The fifth he gets a name Corazon

“Two bruised ribs, a fractured skull and mild burns on both hands.”

“Oh that’s better than usual.” Cora turns to Law, grinning with abandon “see I’m getting better!”

Marco raises a brow “at what?”

Law doesn’t even look up from his textbook already radiating disappointment “using the stairs.”

“He’s joking!” Cora waves his hands frantically “I can use the stairs just fine! Actually I was using the bbq!”

Marco can’t help it, he howls with laughter

Later that night after Law had been tucked into bed with a good story of infectious diseases and how they spread. Corazon laid in his own room staring at the ceiling.

A lazy thought of Marco floated into his brain, eyes crinkled as he gasped for air. His whole body shaking from laughing.

“Oh dear” he whispers to the empty space.

Outtake

“So I’m your favourite patient right?”

“No your my worst patient.”

oh my GOD this is good

marco hardcore worried for a bit there that Cora's legit in an abusive relationship but the kid keeps telling him "no, he really is just that clumsy, he's a goddamn disaster"

and marco still doesn't get it until he sees it for himself-Cora somehow manages to set a chair in the waiting room on fire despite having no lighter or cigarettes on him at the time (right before he trips over the flaming chair and it causes a huge Incident)

The BBQ comment sends him into hysterics because 1-cora's way too fucking tall to conceivably use any kind of grill comfortably (bent way over so he can do anything) and 2-marco's riding 3 hours of sleep on a 26 hour shift and boosting half a gallon of coffee and 2 energy drinks, man is Barely Alive but goddamn that's the funniest mental image he's ever had

takes them weeks to get over themselves and marco has to be the one to ask him out, Cora asks him "I'm your favorite patient right" on the first date and Marco

"No, you're my worst-my favorite patient is my father" and the two bond over having adoptive dads

this is too damn cute and somft for me afihujnkefdas

[caps-clever-girl]

can the ghosts cook!

mary: obviously. absolute QUEEN of stew and bread. makes a FANTASTIC roast too. flavour combos can sound a bit...... well. but you just have to trust the process. mary knows what shes doing at all times. can't handle the fancier things (and doesnt see the point in them) but good staples? meat and veg? shes your gal. you cannot beat her soups you just cannot. god himself cannot.

pattycakes: yes! knows all the staples. you will not find a better man for a grill/bbq/campoling cookout. stunning yorkie puds, you cannot beat this mans toad in a hole. also makes an excellent roast but it isnt marys, his gravy cant beat hers. (not an excellent baker tho, can make decent box fairy cakes)

Lady B: shes very smart BUT she grew up posh and married posh - everything was done by cooks. could probs fix herself a snack if she had to. biggest backseat cooker you've ever met.

kitty: not a clue. will burn water. another victim of posh raising. she's very eager to help though!

julian: can actually cook very well. like, Very well. gotta impress the ladies somehow, right? wine them and dine them. he can do classics and fancier things. his pasta dishes are unmatched. (he also quite enjoys doing it, its a nice hobby for him.) however is also very lazy and prefers fancy restaurants and takeaway :/ but when he's in the mood to cook you KNOW youre in for a good time!

thomas: DO NOT LET THIS MAN IN A KITCHEN. thomas will talk a mile a minuet about what he knows about the kitchen. all of it is wrong. follow his directions or let him cook you will end up with the most awful food. also likely a fire. second worst backseat cooker (slightly less intense but more wrong)

cap: this man knows about 5 meals he can make without setting something on fire. one of them is toast. bakes a little better than he cooks though, his biscuits are decent; they taste good, even if theyre wonky and a bit hard. makes a good pinapple upside down cake and apple cake.

humphrey: another ghost raised by cooks. however, is the nice boy who 'doesnt want to trouble' the cooks by having them make him a snack. was lonely in the house and liked to help them when he could so he actually knows quite a bit, even if he doesnt do much cooking himself.

robin: he is a caveman. if he had lived tho, i think he would have picked up things very quickly and would be able to imitate a lot of what he sees.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Heatwave

Happy Birthday wifey, @titty-teetee​. I know it’s a bit early, but I hope this gift will brighten up the day some. 

Pairing: Black!reader x Dark!Alpha Syverson

“It’s hot as fuck out here,” you groaned.

You picked up the tea glass and placed it against your temple. Drops of condensation rolled down the glass and mixed with the sweat sitting on your skin. 

“‘Hotter than a pig in a sausage factory,” Betty giggled.

You huffed out a slightly bemused cackle. “There’s a chicken out here somewhere laying hard-boiled eggs.”

Both women chuckled while the humid air blanketed the bare skin of their legs, arms, and faces. Saturday morning laziness with your friend turned into spiked ice-cold drinks by the afternoon. Naturally, with nothing much to do, the invitation to a bbq was brought up. You were already groaning inside silently at the inconvenience of it all. The insects that late-night porch lights drew in, the wafting of grill smoke, and the greasy-looking guys with loud months and poor social skills. 

Betty insisted and you obliged. You sat with her waiting for the ride to said party while staying in the afternoon shade of the veranda. Once a cold drink, now watery, was placed back to your side as you leaned against a pillar. 

“I hope at least Teddy doesn’t burn the burgers this time,” you groused. 

Betty gazed at you out the side of her eyes. “Like you give a damn about his burgers. The man’s got an ass that could break bricks. We’re just there to watch him cook,” and then she took a long swallow of her drink.

You could hear the thumping before you saw the car. Heavy bass pounded the air around your ears as over the hill at the end of the street a pea-green four-door car came kicking up dirt on the gravel road. Soon after the friends of Betty came to a skidding stop in front of your house you were in the back seat. The windows were down as you glance over at Betty sitting next to you. She was singing along, her hands around her mouth as she shouted the words of the chorus. You want to join too but you reside to amused observation and try to enjoy the illusion of cooling off in the hot gusts of air that circles throughout the car.

The houses of the small town are left behind the further you drive. Replaced by hyper green mesquite trees, wild grass, and barbed wire fences the sun makes its final goodbyes under the sweltering horizon. When the car arrived at a worn-out pavilion, this place was surrounded by cars, tall trucks, short ones, and even vans. It was a gathering you hadn’t anticipated. 

Before the car even stopped you could smell the food, hear the music, and the dispersed chatter among the crowd. It wasn’t long before you found yourself alone. Betty had broken off with a man holding a baggy and a sixer. You hadn’t really recognized this crew, there were maybe two or three familiar faces from past get-togethers. Most of them appeared decent enough with sharing their food with the locals. But nonetheless, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. So you sat on a cement bench under strung-up white Christmas lights, once again silently watching the party swell and ease as small groups of two or three circled different barbeque pits. 

“I reckon you could use something to eat and a drink?” said a man’s voice.

A man with a thick beard and wild wavy dark hair plopped down beside you. Under the soft glow, you caught beads of sweat running down the side of his face and get lost in the dense growth.

You looked from the unopened beer he held out, then back to him, “I think you could use that yourself.”

The man’s lips creased-up with a nod and handed it to you anyway.

“Ya but lady’s first,” he said. The chilled, wet from the cooler he plucked it from, stayed within his fingers. 

You conceded and took it from him with a thankful half-grin. 

“My name is Sloan, but folks call me Sy,” he said quietly.

You told him your name, twisted off the cap, and pulled a long drink off the beer. At the same time, your senses pick up in a shift in the wind. The thinness of cool air swept over your skin and was gone just as quickly. Once again the layers of humidity, heat, and smoke returned only now something was different. 

You drank deeply again, pondering what an odd sensation that was, and turned to Sy - and wondered if he too felt it. He was watching you, well he was looking at your body, your legs, your hips. The smell of him near reminded you of something from your past, but the memory was no longer there.

You catch his eyes with yours, he doesn’t try to hide what he was doing before. Sy stood, and held out a hand to you, “Want something to eat? My pit is over there, it’s got the best smoked steak around.”

This stranger, the man, you had rarely seen him at these gatherings. If had appeared nice enough. Though your experience in observing him was neither here nor there really. And now, he was asking after you.

He stood up, his eyes still turned down at you, and held out a firm hand. “What’d ya say?” he asked with a side ways grin.

You slightly shrugged while leaving your half-drank beer on the bench then took his hand and let him guide you across the small pavilion. He let your hand go to shake a man’s hand while humble bragging about the rings he achieved on a brisket. Still, you followed him off the paved surface, onto dirt and gravel to a space nestled in the darkened mesquite trees. A 90’s looking travel trailer hooked to a pickup curved around the staging area where Sy did his work. The only light you saw was that seemed to stream from the edge of the trailer to a pole near the pit.

Wondering near the well-seasoned black pit, the smell of smoked beef, jalapeno peppers, and bacon lingered in the air. 

“It’s all done sweetheart, take what you want.” he offered and handed you a paper plate. 

You wanted to sample everything laid on the grill. But what caught your attention was a tin baking dish with pastry on top. 

“What’s that?” you asked. 

Sy stood near you, his warm arm touched yours as he began to dig a spoon into it. “That’s my secret recipe apple cobbler,” he said lightly.

He put a small pile on your plate, you grabbed a plastic fork and then dug in. You swayed as you ate, the sweet dessert hit your tongue and you were in heaven. Humming at the flavor, you gave him a delightful smile.

“Last time you were around these parts, I overheard it was your favorite,” he said as he closed the lid.

Eyebrows raised as you chewed, you nodded sluggishly. Sy stepped to the side of the pit, threw a long hand towel over his shoulder, and asked through a disarming grin, “Does it disappoint?”

You didn’t give him much but another nod. Turning on your heel you started to walk away toward a rickety plastic chair to enjoy the food when something rolled over your body. Tiredness didn’t describe it. The feeling slithered through your nerves and shredded your ability to keep your eyes open, to walk, to stand.

And just when panic started to set in, the plate and fork slipped from your hands and you felt an arm around your body and the world went dark.

Wide-eyed and surprised you tried to move your arms but couldn’t. You felt softness beneath you but above laid Sy. Covered in sweat that collected into a few droplets that fell onto your body as he shifted between your legs.

It was then you realized he was naked and so were you. The smell was back, a thick heavy fragrance that wasn’t off-putting. In fact, it was intoxicating. Inadvertently your hips moved into his.

Finally, the bore-down aggressive glare he was giving you broke as he smiled down at you. 

“I knew you were the one,” he whispered. Sy leaned in toward your lips and licked. He pecked them soon afterward even after you tried to turn your head. But his arms remained pressing in on yours at the sides of your body while his hands held you still. 

He licked your mouth again and then pressed his lips into yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and tasted every part of your mouth. He groaned that turned into a growl and reverberated into his chest. The sensation prickled your skin igniting goose bumps down your body. 

You were slick by then, against your will but wet nonetheless, and slowly you felt him enter. His lips were still on yours, his beating heart thumped against your chest as he relentlessly stroked inside of you. 

During the tussle of his impacts, you managed to wiggle an arm free. You pushed on his chest, but he was like concrete underneath your palm. Unmovable and solid he didn’t budge, instead, his hand coasted down your face to your wrist and pulled up to his other hand above your head.

“This isn’t right,” you shook as you spoke and tried to pull away. “I don’t want this, I-”

Sy’s nose hovered over your ear as he forced a turn to your head with just a nudge from his forehead. “I’m in you now,” his breathing came in fast bursts as he spoke. “I’ll always be in you and if that ain’t right-”

He buried himself in deeper, “-then I don’t know what is.”

“You drugged me.”

Sy mumbled a curse, he lifted his head and closed his eyes in pleasure. “Take my knot.”

You didn’t understand. 

He felt wider, the pain of him pushing himself to the hilt had you trying to pull your legs together. He kept going with every thrust the ache of stretching around him made you whine and whimper for him to stop.

This sick hillbilly fuck was going to kill, you thought.

“Take my knot!” he hissed. 

The blood-curdling holler bellowed from your throat and was swiftly smacked back down as his hand folded over your mouth. Whatever it was he pushed it entirely within, you felt it pulse when he stopped moving. You stared up at him. Sy’s eyes met yours with an expression of ultimate gratification. Eyes wide, a stupid toothy smile spread wide which broke with each pulse into climatic surprise.

Again you tried to release your limbs and struggle against his grip but he felt even stronger now. He held you still, tight against him as his lips stayed above his knuckles that continued to cover your mouth.

“I’m breeding you for mine,” he snapped. “- be still sweetheart-” and scolded you.

Anger flashed across his eyes, “I don’t know if I can control not hurting you.”

His grip on your wrist tightened, and his mouth fell open as he pushed more inside you. Pressing his pelvis, the pulses came faster. Agonizing minutes passed while he stayed sunk inside you. And without warning, he began to pull himself from your body.

He breathed out hard and slumped over you. His entire mass laid on you in a suffocating pile of sweat and muscle. You were in shock that you didn’t feel his other hand release and replace it with something harder. It wasn’t until you heard a click that your mind came back to this dark room. 

His hand slid off your mouth to above you and felt another cold piece of metal click on your other wrist. 

Sy sat up between your legs, head tilted up to the ceiling of the trailer his hands gently stroked your thighs.

He sighed roughly through his lips and then cracked a smile.

“I told the fellas this was a great area to find mates,” he let out another exhilarated sigh. His head and eyes fell back down to you.

Too terrified to talk back you listened while subtly pulling on whatever he attached around your wrists.

“We’ll have to do this a few more times,” he said to you, but his eyes shifted to the only window as he turned his toward it in thought. The only light, from the bulb near the pit outside, brightened his features. 

“But I doubt’ll I have to, you smell fertile as hell,” he continued. “The pack’ll pull up stakes tonight so we are back home soon.”

“You’re my mate,” His head slowly turned back toward you as he spoke, “Mine.” 

He put his hand on his bare sweaty chest just over his heart, “And soon you’ll be my wife.”

[doll-r-t]

Syverson’s proposal

This was supposed to be a small caption to a Moodboard I made but it got out of hand. So here you have it.

Moodboard by me, pics found on pinterest. If you wanna use the moodboards for your fics you can but please tag me.

Not Proofread to lazy rn.

gif credit to @littlefreya​

Syverson was a typical southern man. He loved big portions, BBQ, and having his men over for a cookout. He loved his woman with all his heart and would carry her over every mudpuddle. He worshipped her, calling her his sweet peach. He provided for her and took great pride in it. He built on your guys' house a vegetable garden, some chickens, and his second baby girl Aika. He loved drinking his coffee watching the sunrise on the freshly built deck, and even more when you would come out just in his shirt. So now that the house was ready it was only natural for him to make an honest woman out of you. He had prepared dinner outside. He had cooked rumstake and vegetables, with grilled potatoes. He opened a bottle of (non-) alcoholic wine and hug up fairy lights all over. He had sent you out for the day going shopping and getting pampered, pressing his credit card in your hand, kissing you on the forehead, and ushering you out. He had printed pictures of you hung around the table he had set up. From your trips, dates, and all the other beautiful and amazing times you had. He made a trail of roses from the front door to the table at the backside of the house. He lit candles and lined the rose trail. As long as he was doing all of this he was cool and collected but as soon as the sun had set and he could hear you coming towards the house he started to sweat. He was not the type of man to wear a monkey suit but for this, he pulled on light beige slacks and a white shirt. The ring was safely hidden. He had studied your jewelry any kind of hints to what you like. He even called up your best friend and asked her what you liked. You were stunned when you came home, you had gotten your make-up and hair done, and nails Sy had insisted. You dropped your shopping bags calling out for Syverson. You followed the rose trail your heart beating. You looked around trying to find him, thinking he might be hiding somewhere trying to spook you. He had done that before. But when you stepped out the backdoor, there he was. Illuminated by the soft light of the fairy lights. You looked around trying to take it all in, the candles, the pictures, the flowers, the beautiful set table, and him. Yes him, the man you fell in love with, the man you still loved and would love for eternity. You walked toward him, confused at what was going on. “Sy?” He came towards you, his hand softly tilting your head up by your chin, giving you a soft kiss. “Happy anniversary my beloved.” You had kept your eyes closed, savoring the warmth of his lips, the smell of his aftershave, and the rumbling of his voice. “Happy anniversary, love.” You whispered back, not wanting to burst the bubble you two were in. He nudged his nose against yours. “Come let’s eat.” He led you towards the table, pulling out your chair. He served you some drinks. Water cooled, some (non-)alcoholic wine and in case you wanted something else he had a third glass. He took your plate, takin this time he neatly stacked everything on, even put on some herbs as decoration. You just smiled at the care he took, it was so like Sy. Attention to detail, always wanting the best for you and doing as much as he can. It made you choke up a bit. How had you gotten so lucky? How can a man love you so much and made you feel loved like no one ever did? 

You too had a beautiful dinner laughing and recounting your first date, the once that was a disaster, or the time you got stuck out of nowhere during a road trip. After dinner, you both looked at the pictures together. He had an arm around your waist you both holding your glasses of (non-)alcoholic wine and looking some more at the pictures.

He had put on some soft piano music during dinner. But switching it to a soft country song, a man singing about how much he loved a woman. He took your glass putting both on the table and took your hand, you both swayed to the music, exchanging soft kisses and being close to each other. It had gotten a bit colder so he told you he would get you a shawl. He went inside to his dresser pulling out the ring box. He put it in his pocket. Picking up your shawl his heart was hammering. He went to the refrigerator pulling out your favorite dessert. He put the dessert down and wrapped your shawl around you. He helped you into your chair again. He feared you could hear his rapid heartbeat. He tried to eat the dessert as if nothing was going on. But his stomach was in a knot. “This was a beautiful dinner, thank you Sy.” You walked to him kissing him on his lips and sitting on his lap. “You are the best man I have ever known love.” He nuzzled your nose, breathing in your sent. It smelled like home. You both kissed some more and you opened the first two buttons on his shirt. You knew how much he disliked wearing what he called a monkey suit. But my God is one sexy man. 

You excused yourself for a second, going to the bathroom, you quickly pulled don the new sexy lingerie you wanted to surprise him too. Once you were done you checked over your make-up, and hair, pulling on your dress again. You went outside, Syverson stood by the fairy lights, he seemed nervous. Once he saw you he beckoned you over to him. He took your hand taking a deep breath.  He leaned his forehead against yours. “Bear with me okay?” He took a deep breath. Standing back a bit. “I still remember the first time I saw you, I remember what you wore and how beautiful I thought you were. I remember-” He chocked up a bit, breathing out hard he went on. “I remember nights laying in bed thinking about you. How my heart skipped every time you texted me. How nervous I was on our first date but how excited I was to feel nervous again because it meant I would be with you. I love you so much, more than I thought possible. And I promise you I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I will love you forever.” He let go of your hand stepping back. You already had tears in your eyes, but once you saw him getting down on one knee you started to cry. “Will you make me the honor of becoming my wife?” You could only nod, holding out your hand shaking. Your smile was brighter than it ever had been. Syverson breathed a sigh of relief. Getting up he took you in his arms, kissing you hard. You both looked at the ring on your finger laughing at how right it looked. He took you in his arms again spinning you around. “I can’t wait to introduce you as my wife.”

I tried to make everything as inclusive as possible. I am still working on one with a disabled reader Moodboard but it is a bit hard to find pictures. Let me know what else you wanna see. I am too unsure how Indian wedding dresses are or how in general other cultures dress for weddings. I am European and white and I do not want to disrespect another culture.

Taglist:

@tumblnewby​ @irishprincess89​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ @amberangel112​ @sofiebstar​ @omgkatinka​ @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirl​ @pjkimrn​ @zealoushound​,

@lunedelorient​ <3

@tragicphoenix13​

@alexa-fangirl-forever​

@vhjlucky13​

​

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[scorpionyx9621]

More Soft Jason Todd x Reader Imagines Because Times Are Tough and We All Need Some Fluff

People tend to forget that before Under the Red Hood and even a bit after Jason was a hired gun and has had his fair share of assassinations. So I have no doubt Jason is sitting on at least a few million USD. He's absolutely nowhere close to Bruce in terms of wealth but Jason lives pretty comfortably off of his hit money. He'd keep it hidden from you of course, but not because he doesn't want to share it, but because Jason is still legally dead, and while Jason kills people he's certainly not above money laundering. To which I don't think he'd want you to get too involved.

Again, Jason is very independent by just the environment he grew up in. He'd want you to be the same. I don't think he'd be too emotionally attracted to someone who'd just say yes to everything he does. He'd really love brutal honesty and you questioning him/calling him out on his BS. Make him think about his actions and what he's done. Jason's certainly capable of deeper thought and analysis than most give him credit for.

A secret about Jason is that he's low-key the best at swimming in the family. He may be built like a hybrid between a linebacker and a gymnast but he has the technical side of swimming down.

Jason also loves taking you to the pool so you can stare at him and his muscles/body because he's low-key an attention wh*re and that's one of the best ways to satisfy his ego and vice-versa.

Physical touch is one of Jason's key love languages. If he loves you, you'll pretty much constantly either have him holding your hand or have his arm wrapped around you. Almost like he's afraid he'll lose you if he lets you go.

Just cuddle the man. Especially when he's sleeping. His favorite is when you rest your head against his chest/torso but spooning is perfectly acceptable to Jason as well. He loves being big and little spoon even though you're most likely just going to be jetpacking him if you're the big spoon.

You just gotta deal with the fact he's got the strongest and most noticeable BO of the family and that includes his morning breath.

But other than that he's a pretty unremarkable sleeper. He's doesn't snore like Dick does, he doesn't toss and turn like Tim & Damian. When he's ready for bed he just reads for a little bit to relax his mind and he just kind of falls asleep in whatever position he is and just kind of stays that way till he wakes up.

Jason isn't a bad cook, but he is lazy/not interested in cooking often. What he is excellent at cooking is grilling/cooking large cuts of meat. Jason loves a good summer poolside grill, and for Christmas Stephanie got him an apron that just says 'grill dad'. Jason wears it every time the family has a barbeque. Jason also mans the grill anytime the family goes out for Korean BBQ.

It takes a very long time for Jason to really emotionally open up to people. He'd literally consider being beaten to death by Joker again over being forced into a situation where he has to talk about his feelings to a stranger. So don't try to force him to come out of his shell, let him open up to you when he's ready. It'll be painfully slow but Jason opening up to you about his life means he values you so highly.

When Jason does eventually bring you around to the family the overwhelming vibe will be that you and him are walking on eggshells rigged with C4. Much to your surprise everyone is very pleasant and very nice around you. Even too blunt for his own good Damian is more inquisitive about why you chose Jason over a snarky comment he could make about your ineptitude.

Things would devolve around Bruce however, you'd see how the strong, confident, defiant Jason stays defiant and flippant but you see his shoulders tense up anytime Bruce is in the room and Jason almost makes himself smaller around Bruce. Comments would fly and Jason and Bruce would apologize and excuse themselves to another room where you would just hear muffled shouts.

Jason would eventually storm off telling Bruce to 'eff off old man.' barely even noticing you because he's so upset. You'd just see Bruce looking dejected but he'd notice you staring at him and would eventually come over to apologize for making a scene.

Bruce would want to get to know you briefly but would explain that he failed to save Jason during his time of need. And Jason's anger towards him is justified. He would want you to promise to keep Jason safe. While he's not happy about Jason's means and methods more than anything in this world, he just wants Jason to be safe and to be happy.

When you'd finally get back to the car you'd finally see Jason break down. When Jason cries he angry cries. He throws shit and screams. And Jason cries for hours. When he starts he can't stop until all the emotions are out of his system. To which case he'll physically proceed to sleep for 10-15 hours afterwards and pretend like nothing ever happened. Only when it's quiet would he admit he's thankful to you for staying by his side.

Jason likes to do laundry, surprisingly. It's his favorite chore. That and taking out the trash. They both have that good physical feeling of wiping away grime and dirt or taking out what's old and replacing it with what's new. Jason also lives exclusively off of Gain Moonlight Breeze laundry detergent and I cannot tell you why. He just loves the scent. Just don't ask Jason to do the dishes.

Jason also really likes lavender surprisingly! Lavender also has a really strong effect on him and helps him relax very easily. Like I'm pretty sure a twilight bath bomb from lush would put him to bed. Better yet wear some lavender perfume and you won't be able to keep his lips (and tongue too) off you.

Patience is key when dating Jason. I've said it before, him and Damian are the coconuts whereas Dick and Tim are peaches. With Dick and Tim they are very nice and sweet on the outside, but are very hard and dense and determined on the inside. Whereas Jason and Damian have very high and hard to penetrate walls but once you have broken through their defenses you have a soft, very loving and devoted person who will be at your side forever basically.

You're going to have to be comfortable with a very handsome very buff very shirtless man walking around your apartment at all times because second Jason's safe and comfortable it's tits and abs and guns out friends. And if he catches you staring he will call you out and laugh at you (and make you feel his muscles)

[grillpartshub-blog]

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[afeb]

Chris Evans - Alright

I walked around the backyard, talking to our guests and smiling happily at their praises for our BBQ. My husband, Harry, was manning the grill, all the men scattered around him, listening to his secret tips in how to grill the perfect burger. Well, nearly all the men.

Chris stood near the back garden doors, beer in hand, eyes on me. I caught his gaze a few times and blushed at the secret winks he’d throw my way. I never had any intention of having an affair, and I did love my husband dearly. He was kind, tentative and sickeningly supportive.

But he was boring.

He’d been pulling the same moves since we were seventeen and I needed something else. I’d tried, embarrassingly, to spice things up with him. Costumes, whips, even chains once, but each time he turned his nose up and went back to missionary. I’d tried to suggest semi-public sex but he didn’t get it, I’d tried a daddy-kink, but he hated it. He was just a plain, simple guy.

And I wasn’t.

I needed someone to fulfil my sexual fantasies. I’d stuck to porn and whatever toys I’d bought, but I needed human contact. Harry had made us move to Boston for work, and we’d settled in nicely to the community. They’d thrown a welcome party for us the second week we’d been here; and that’s when I met Chris.

He’d been funny and charming, and that night we swapped numbers. We became friends. Chris showed me the city while Harry was at work, he showed me everything it felt like. And on one lunch date, he kissed me, and I liked it.

We went home that day and had sex for the first time. He was so responsive to me, asking what I wanted, how it felt. Two years later and we’re still running around in the shadows together, a friends-with-benefits situation.

“Baby, could you grab some more buns for me?” Harry called from the BBQ.

“Will do!” I smiled back.

“I love you,” the girls cooed at his display of affection.

Harry smirked as I blushed. “I love you too,”

I walked past Chris who had a sour expression on his face, following closely behind me. “What a tactical move,” Chris said. “I love you,” 

“He does love me, you know,” I quipped back with a smile.

“Yeah yeah, do you love him?” Chris swigged his beer.

“Of course I do,” I laughed.

Chris rolled his eyes. We never usually spoke about my marriage, Chris grumbling any time he even saw Harry and I together.

“Great,” he said.

I walked past with buns in my hand. Carefully, I looked around. The coast was clear and I leant up to sponge a quick kiss to his lips.

“Jealousy doesn’t look cute on you,” I teased. I squeaked as Chris pinched my behind.

“Your husband awaits,” he whispered into my ear.

I skipped out with a beaming smile and handed Harry the buns. He kissed me in front of everyone and I wondered if he could taste Chris’ beer on my lips. The day went on and the crowd thinned until it was just Chris, Harry and I. Chris was helping me wash up.

“I’m gonna shower,” Harry said as he kissed my cheek. “Be a bit,”

He left the room and I smiled warmly at Chris. I continued to wash the plethora of dishes that were stacked beside me, Chris drying a plate and bumping his hip with him. I giggled and bumped him back.

Chris peered over his shoulder to the empty kitchen, waiting a moment before putting down his dish towel and moving to stand behind me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

His hands smoothed over my hips. “Shh,” he cooed into my ear.

We’d never done anything with Harry in the house. “Stop, he’ll catch us,”

“And?” My breath hitched as Chris eased the skirt of my dress up.

“And it’ll ruin what we have,” I said.

“Or make it better,” his hand dipped into the front of my underwear and immediately found my bundle of nerves.

My head tilted back against his shoulder as I ground my backside into his crotch. Chris toyed teasingly with me for a few moments before drawing lazy circles into me.

“Chris,” I breathily sighed.

“So wet, so responsive,” he gently cooed into my hair. “You like the idea of your little husband walking in?”

I blushed and shook my head. “No,”

“Liar,” he nipped my earlobe. “Know you love being fucked in public, maybe even in front of people,”

My wet and soapy hand came out of the water and grab his forearm, squeezing tightly. “Fuck,”

“You like that? Might get some buddies ‘round one night and fuck your brains out in front of them,” Chris lowly promised. “Maybe even invite Harry,”

I whined loudly and Chris immediately cupped my hand. “Gotta be quiet doll,”

I nodded and softly whimpered, grinding my hips against his hand. Chris quickened his fingers as my teeth sank into his palm, he winced in my ear.

“You gonna cum?” I nodded. “Do it, cum on my fingers,”

I came with a whimper and a jump, Chris working me through my high as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I slumped against him, his hand falling from my mouth. Chris wrapped his arms warmly around me, holding me tight.

“Fuck,” I swore with a giggle.

He didn’t say anything, just squeezed me tighter. “I think I lo-“ he stopped talking as we heard footsteps trotting down the stairs.

Chris quickly moved away and picked up a plate as Harry walked back in. His hair was wet and tousled, pyjamas on and an easy smile on his face. Harry looked at me and furrowed his brows.

“You feeling okay? You look really flushed,” his hand cupped my cheek.

“Just tired,” it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I’ll get off,” Chris said.

Chris patted my shoulder and squeezed softly before sticking his hand out for Harry to shake. My blush deepened as I realised it was the hand that was just down my underwear. Harry took his and I wanted to laugh.

“Thanks man, see you around,” they both smiled. Chris shot me a cheeky wink and left the house. “I like that guy, seems nice,”

“Oh he’s alright,”

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

Sunday BBQ

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Type: smut

Summary: Lisa had hosted a barbecue at her house, her four children and some close family friends. It was a hot August day in Boston, and you were wearing your fav skirt and a simply white crop top, which highlighted your tan. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you noticed it. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, which tightened around his muscular biceps.

Warning(s): dirty talk, daddy kink, spanking, rough sex

A wave of heat had hit Boston that day. You couldn’t go to the beach -it was too hot-, neither could you stay in for the entire Sunday. Then your mother had called, saying that Lisa Evans had organized a barbecue at her place, and you took the chance almost immediately.

You wore the first thing you had caught in your wardrobe and got in your car, never living behind Toby -your dog. You jumped in your brother’s red Jeep and in less than fifteen minutes you were parking in front of Lisa Evans’ house.

It wasn’t the biggest house you’ve ever been in, but Mama Evans knew how to take care of her garden, in fact you loved how it was arranged and the beautiful and colorful flowers on the grass. Not by chance Lisa hosted almost every Sunday a big barbecue with family’s friends and her children’s families and friends. Since when you were a child, you’d always waited the Sundays only to go to the Evans’ and have fun.

“Mum and dad are already there”, Tom told you while you were getting out of his car. Together you crossed the road and reached the Evans’ front door, “Aideen and Cristal are coming”.

Toby barked as soon as the door was opened, and you watched him disappearing into the crowded living room. You panted and turned to greet Shanna, who had welcomed you in her mother’s house.

“The guys are in the backyard”, she informed your brother, who crossed the living room and made his way to the yard. Instead you followed Shanna in the kitchen, where you met your mother and Cristal, your younger sister. “So, how is it going at school? Do the children already love their new teacher?”

“It isn’t that simple”, you answered, thanking Lisa as she filled a glass of lemonade for you, “But…they trust me and laugh at my jokes. That’s my biggest achievement so far”, all the women in the room laughed at your statement, including your mother, who had heard that story a couple of times before. “It’s been a while since last Sunday at the Evans’.”

“I know, my dear. This summer I’m determined to re-establish the tradition”, Lisa caressed your back and sent you a reassuring smile, before being interrupted by her husband.

“Ladies, lunch is almost ready.”

You, as all the women in the room, headed out the kitchen and followed Mr. Evans in the backyard, where you brother and other men were grilling meat. You approached Scott, who had been waving you since you had stepped out of the house, “Hey, man!”

“Hey, stranger. I haven’t seen you in ages”, Scott, being a child, as always, teased you and poked your nose, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been busy with kids at school. I’m officially a teacher!” you cheered and made a quick happy dance, just like when you were a child and happy danced basically for everything, “I’m so…uuh” you stopped talking when you felt something slimy on your ankle. You looked down and saw a tiny white dog licking you, “Hi, baby. Already tired of playing with other dogs?” you grabbed him in your hands and petted his head, just as he liked it.

“He’s a hairball and he’s lazy. Prove me that I’m wrong”, a strong, deep voice said, and you knew who was trying to make you angry, “Just like his owner”.

Chris Evans stood in front of you, one arm around his brother’s shoulder and a cold beer in the other hand. “Hi”, he stuck out his tongue at you and it reminded you how much a child he was.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in a harsh tone, succeeding in not let your excitement to show up, “No movie? No Hollywood Star appointment?” You let Toby rush to his food as you saw Shanna reaching out for him

“Nope, unfortunately for you”, his attention was completely on you, once that Scott had excused himself and ran away from the two of you, “Free for my family and friends”, he took one last drink from his beer and threw the bottle in its proper can, “And you, of course”.

“Good luck with that. Last time didn’t go so well”, having said that, you left him alone, with his thoughts, and made your way back to where your mother and brothers were. “Is that anything left for me?” you took a plate and filled it up with chips, grilled vegetables and an infinite amount of sauces.

Basically, everything that was on the long buffet table, except for the meat -which was being grilled by the men. Logan, your older brother, dragged you in front of the grill and made you wait there with a huge, ceramic dish in your hands. You looked at how all the men were focused on their portion of the grill, but only one caught your attention and it was Chris.

He had his sleeves rolled up and his broad biceps fully on display for everyone. His pecs tensed underneath the think material of his blue shirt and you could clearly see them.

“D’you like what you see?” his tease snapped you out of your thoughts. He saw you blinking and gasping, before, eventually, addressing him an annoyed face, “What? You’re basically drooling over me”, he flipped the grilling meat, interrupting your exchange of gaze, “I have eyes, Little One”.

“Stop calling me like that!”

“It’s not a nickname, it’s a matter of fact” Chris pierced various steaks of meat and nodded you to get closer to him, which you did -even if reluctantly, “You’re ten years younger than me, if I’m not wrong”, he started filling up the dish in your hands with steaks and hot dogs.

“Yeah, you’re right”, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue, “And I hate you”, you saw as he put down the big fork and the spatula and grabbed the plate from your hands -which was becoming hotter.

“Nah, you don’t”, he nodded towards his beer -the second of the day- behind you and you got you had to grab that, “You secretly love me”.

“And that’s such a secret that I didn’t even know it”, you stated and look at your feet as you got down of the area where the grills were. “Thank you for enlightening me, by the way”.

After placing the dish down on the buffet table, you gave the beer back to its owner. While you were handing it to him, your fingers slightly touched, but it was enough for you to shiver.

You couldn’t deny that; Chris had been your first serious crush and being friend with him didn’t help you cause. Moreover, being him very friendly with quite everyone, he’d never missed the chance to hug you, kiss your cheek, or touch your thighs while laughing together -and you loved him being touchy with you.

But that, damn, that wasn’t something you looked for, it came and brought butterflies to your stomach. You taught to kids in elementary school, yet at that moment you felt like a teenager, inexperienced with guys.

You raised your eyes and found him already looking at you. It was like a movie scene; with the two characters whose lives changed once their hands touched. But it was real life, and, in the real life, things didn’t go as in a movie. Your special moment was ruined by your mother yelling your name and searching for you in the yard.

“I gotta go. That’s yours”, and without saying another word, you rushed across the garden and disappeared, leaving Chris speechless and jammed.

You were stuck with your mother and sisters for three hours. You ate with them and told them how your teaching life was going that far, which had been exciting for the first fifteen minutes, then it annoyed you, too. You found yourself often searching for a pair of blue-green eyes which had your knees tremble not long before.

When you could no longer listen to your mother talking about your happy childhood and how your parents had been crucial in your academic choice, you excused yourself and got up, heading to the bathroom. It was occupied at the first floor, so you made your way upstairs and quickly found the room you were looking for.

“Sneaking in my bedroom?”

You flinched when you heard a male voice coming from behind you, and you knew whose voice was that, “You’re unbelievable”.

“Nah, I’m incredible”, Chris put his phone in his back pocket and lowered his gaze at you, “And you’re really cute today”.

You shook your head as the grip on the door handle tightened, “Cute?” you lowered your gaze, looking how you were dressed and looked back at him, “Are you noticing it only now?”

Chris didn’t reply to you, he had a quick glance at your surroundings and wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you against the door behind you, “I did notice it”, his hand reached the handle and pushed it down. Chris pulled you inside and locked the door once inside, “And I’ve thinking about one-hundred ways to get you under me”.

You weren’t surprised, not at all. To everyone’s eyes you and Chris were just friends who liked hanging out together whenever it was possible. The truth was that you two had history, behind everyone’s back.

You felt his biceps flexing under your hands and you smirked, “And which one is you favorite?” you placed your hands at the base of his neck, “C’mon, tell me”, you encouraged him when you saw he wasn’t going to answer your question.

“We’re in my parents’ house, what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you here?” his grip tightened around your waist and that made you gasp, “C’mon, tell me”, he mocked of you when you didn’t reply to him immediately.

“You become ruthless when it comes to fuck”, you moved your hands behind his neck and pulled a string of hair too long. You brushed his cheek with your lips, and you heard him groaning. Not completely satisfied with yourself, you pulled closer to him and crushed your hips against him.

“Bend over.”

His firm and harsh tone made you shiver. It had always done. When talking like that with you, Chris knew he had you wet, trembling, and throbbing for him. He knew you would have begged him until you were no longer capable of speaking.

You did as he asked, and your face met the cold marble surface before you could hear an abrupt sound and warm spreading on your left ass-cheek.

“Did you just-?” you lifted your head and looked straight at him, startled by what he had just done.

“You can bet you ass I did”, having said that, Chris let his hand fall on your ass once more and the vibration of that spank went straight to your throbbing clit, “Now…tell me what I wanna hear”.

You heard metal noises coming from behind you, acknowledging what he was doing, “Please”.

“I’ll show your ass to the word if you don’t say the magic words”, his big, callous hands went raising your baby blue skirt up to your hips, and soon after they automatically found their way to your chest. Chris dangerously shoved his hardening cock against your core and hissed in pleasure.

You couldn’t endure it anymore; the pleasure growing inside you was too much that it was becoming painful and you knew he wouldn’t let you come if you misbehaved. Your clit was hurting, and it was a matter of time before you would drip yourself wet. You closed your eyes and gave up: “Please, daddy, fuck me”, Chris’ hand went down on your ass-cheek abruptly once more and encouraged you to go on, “Pleeease. I’ve been craving you all day”, you pushed your ass towards his hips, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

“You’re acting like a brat”, he set his buckle next to your face and you shivered, “Do you know what brats get?”

You didn’t reply to him, not because you didn’t want to, but because the pain was becoming too much that you couldn’t assemble a sentence.

“What-”, spank, “-do-”, another spank, “-they-“, Chris changed side, “-get?” one last spank.

“T-they…don’t g-get to c-come”, you were a trembling mess. Your weight was completely on your chest as your legs caved in when he’d started spanking you, “B-but, please, make me cum, daddy”.

“If you keep it quiet and low, I can consider making you come”, Chris’ hands searched for your underwear and, once found it, he pulled it down to your ankles, “Quiet and low, remember”.

You closed your eyes and prayed the God as Chris pushed himself inside you, stretching all your inner muscles. You moaned when he pulled out, only to go back where he left and boost his entire length inside your channel. You arched your back as you felt his thumb teasing your asshole, “P-please”.

“Oh, God…” Chris groaned as increased his pace. Thrusts became quicker and fiercer, leaving you breathless, “Keep it low”, he warned you not a second before adopting an ungodly speed.

You couldn’t form a word anymore, the only things coming out from your mouth were moans -which you had to hold on. You could only beg him for your own release, which wasn’t far away since the familiar warm had already formed and was spreading in your stomach.

“As much I want to take my time with you-“ Chris lifted your chin and made you look at him while speaking, “-I’ve thought of taking you like this the whole day-“, he kissed your forehead and left a trail of sweet kisses from there to your mouth, “-after this, we call it a day and leave”, as he pinched your clit, you both came and you had to repress a scream.

You were out of breath, bent over the furniture in the bathroom of Lisa Evans’ house, and at the mercy of her older son. In less than fifteen minutes Chris had transformed you into a whimpering and sweating mess, you were sticky between your legs, and you back hurt for the countless times you had arched it, “Chris”, you called him, who didn’t appeared better than you, “You gotta help me”.

The man behind you giggled, but helped you standing back on your feet, he re-dressed you and rested a kiss on your collarbone, jaw, nose, and, finally, lips, “Have I ever told you how much I actually like you?” he rhetorically asked, looking straight at your eyes.

“Only every time you fuck me. And before fucking me another time”, you wrap your arms around his waist and rested your head in the crock of his neck, inhaling his strong, musky, after-sex scent -the one you loved so much, yet you weren’t brave enough to tell him that.

“Don’t fall asleep. We have a long afternoon and a long night in front of us”, Chris rub a thumb on your left cheek, and you closed your eyes, wallowing that sensation, “Let’s go, Princess”.

Tag List: 

ALL MY STORIES: 

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ALL CHRIS EVANS: 

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@rororo06​

[raisingsupergirl]

When 2020 Hands You a Staycation, Make... Everything

My family was looking forward to our trip for months. My mom was going to take all of us to a beautiful cabin at Kentucky Lake. It would have been the first time we've all gone on a family vacation in literally decades. And man, did we need it. But, of course, we forgot to consider the 2020 factor. So, literally days before we were supposed to leave, the air conditioning went out in my truck, my grandma broke her hip, my grandma-in-law was diagnosed with a terminal illness (and passed away soon after), and my mom tested positive for COVID-19. And so, in a twist of fate that we all should have seen coming, our vacation turned into a staycation. And this is how mine went…

Like any respectable week stuck at home, my family's started with donuts. And the food just kept coming all week. It was my fault, really. I decided I'd play Master Chef, and so I cooked and I cooked and I cooked, from scratch. Fettuccine alfredo, sushi (x 2), all the grilled things (including my world famous ribs with homemade BBQ sauce), breakfast yummies, pizza (for my wife's birthday), and Sunday piña coladas. We can't forget the Sunday piña coladas. My family will back up my claim that it was all wonderful (even if my wife complained about all the weight she gained), but if I'm being honest, by the end, I was a little sick of cooking. Okay, a lot sick of cooking. And that unexpected side-effect was kind of the theme of my week.

Along with cooking, I kept the Martha Stewart Living dream alive by starting an elderberry tincture, bottling up some flavored alcohol I've been working on, cleaning my fish tanks, fixing my wife's shower, and spending three days power spraying All the Things—little honey-dos and creative projects to keep my mind and body busy, to make me feel like the week wasn't completely wasted. Unfortunately, that mentality royally backfired. You see, the thing about projects is that there's an endless supply of them. There's no finish line to the things that need doing. And once you start digging into the pile, you realize just how deep it is. And then you quickly realize how little time you have left to do them before you have to go back to work for another year. At least, that's what happened to me, which tinted every day with this little feeling of desperation, like I wasn't in control of my time, my work, or my life. And as I got further into the week, I started feeling a little worthless, like none of the things I was doing, had done up to that point, or would ever do again, meant a gosh darned thing. And that kind of thinking is a royal bummer when you're on vacation, let me tell ya.

By the final Sunday, it got to the point where I was sitting on my back porch with beautiful weather, good music, a colada in my hand, my amazing wife by my side, and my kids squealing in the kiddie pool, and all I could think about as I stared up at the fluffy, white clouds was, "Why do I feel so bad?" And then I felt bad for feeling bad. At that moment, my life was perfect. So why was I searching for more? Why did I feel like I hadn't done enough on my vacation—enough work, enough relaxing, enough memory making? I'd done my best all week to stay in the moment and be appreciative of my abundant blessings. But for some reason, it hadn't helped. I'd kept dreading my return to the "real world" despite a pretty stinkin' successful staycation. So what was it? What was bothering me about that perfect week? Well, I can be a little slow sometimes. The obvious often eludes me. Remember the first paragraph of this post? The one where all the bad things happened? Yeah, I guess I had tried to bury that reality instead of deal with it. And there ain't no amount of sushi or power spraying or piña coladas that can bury 2020.

It's strange that it took me going back to work on Monday to gain some real perspective. The thing I had been dreading was the very thing that saved me—that helped me appreciate everything about my previous week spent at home. Not because work was bad or hard. Quite the opposite, actually. My first day back was busy, I felt scatterbrained, and I was thoroughly exhausted when I got home. But it felt great. Getting back with my patients and co-workers, doing what I knew so well how to do, falling into a rhythm. It all helped remind me of who I am and what all I'd learned from my staycation (yes, I'm repeating that ridiculous word to annoy everyone who hates it). And, as it turns out, I learned quite a lot.

First off, I do actually love my job. I love helping people (even if they exhaust me). I love what I do and who I work with. I get burned out from time to time, but there's no other career I would rather do on a full-time basis. It offers a sense of fulfillment and stability that I've never appreciated until now (which has also given me a greater appreciation for all those people stuck at home in quarantine. I guess putting your life on hold isn't as amazing as it sounds…). Secondly, I love my family. There are some real memories from this past week that I'll never forget. Those lazy afternoons in the back yard with my wife while my kids played in their tiny pool. The mornings getting sunburned at my six-year-old's soccer games. The movie nights, laughs, and cuddles. Oh so many cuddles. Despite the craziness and heartache looming just outside our little pocket universe, my family and I really did make the most of it. Oh, and the last thing I learned? When making homemade pizza sauce, don't add baking soda to lower the acidity and then mix the resulting science experiment in a sealed blender. That is, unless you're looking to redo your kitchen.

On the bright side, my wife figured out what she wanted for her birthday—a new blender! That, my friends, is what you do when 2020 strikes. You make lemonade out of lemons. Sure, tragedy continues to weigh on our planet, our country, our society, and our families. Yes, my grandma's hip is still broken. Yes, my family lost a wonderful woman last week, and the world will always be just a little darker for that loss. Yes, the pandemic continues to rage. Yes, my county is second in the nation for active cases, which means full protective equipment and precautions at work every day. And yes, I'm going to have to pay a few hundred dollars to have my truck's air conditioner fixed. But you know what? My mom has been essentially symptom-free as she battles the Virus Which Shall Not Be Named. In fact, she's been out doing yard work. That's the epitome of making lemonade, folks. And this past Monday, on my wife's birthday, just when I was starting to feel bad that she hadn't had the special day that she so greatly deserved because I had to work and then drop off my truck at the repair shop, something kind of neat happened. The summer rain cleared away, and a promise revealed itself—a rainbow, tip to tail. God's reminder that he's watching over us. That there is always an end to the heartache. That no darkness lasts forever. And that, even in the midst of it all, there is beauty. There is laughter. There is hope.

So keep hoping, y'all. Better times are coming. It might get choppier before things start smoothing out. The school year and the winter are going to be challenging. But it won't be the end. "If you're going through hell, keep going," seems like wonderfully appropriate advice. So let's keep going, together. Let's remind each other what we're fighting for. Let's keep praying and taking extra time to help each other out. Showing kindness and patience when both seem to be in short supply. Oh, and remember, if you're thinking about ending it all by adding tomatoes and baking soda to a blender, just say no. Instead, maybe take a deep breath and power spray a smiley face into your sidewalk as a gentle reminder that it’ll all be okay.

[grillpartszone-blog]

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[tubbyfingers]

Four Months | 04

Description: You and Jungkook have been happily married for seven years. Or so he thought. After three years of him being completely oblivious to your feelings and personal struggles, you decided that your happiness was more important than trying to salvage a failing marriage, so you filed for divorce, giving him a time limit of four months until he has to move out of your shared home. Unable to cope with the idea of his wife leaving him, Jungkook decides to comply with the terms of the divorce…for now…but is secretly plotting to win you back before the four months is up.

pairing: jungkook × reader

genre: angst, romance

word count: 2.2k

*warning*: slight profanity

              ~❀~              ~❀~                  ~❀~                    ~❀~

“Jeon Jungkook, you’re an actual idiot.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open.

“N-Namjoon?” he stuttered.

“N-Namjoon,” the older man mimicked, “Who else?”

Jungkook had picked up the phone half asleep, and already the call had begun on a hostile note. Namjoon had promised himself that he would be as civil as possible, but hearing the sleep in Jungkook’s voice triggered him, knowing that you had already left for work while your husband was at home getting to sleep in.

“Why are you calling so early?”

“It’s 3:40pm. Why are you just now waking up?”

Jungkook looked at the clock in irritation, sitting up in his place on the couch as he rubbed his face with one hand.

“Okay, I woke up late, so what? It’s not like I have anywhere to be,” he responded tiredly.

“Don’t you have work today?”

“I’m taking the day off.”

“God, you’re so lazy. How many days off have you already had this month alone? And for what? To play games? To hang out with Jimin?”

“Okay Namjoon! What did you call me for?! You want me to just sit here and listen to you nag?!”

“No...” he paused, “I’m calling you about Y/N.”

“Y/N?”

“I just wanted to see how you were holding up with the divorce. Are you doing okay?”

“Wait, how do you know about that?”

“What...what do you mean how do I know about that? I’m Y/N’s divorce lawyer, why wouldn’t I know about it?” Namjoon questioned.

“You’re...what? Jungkook questioned incredulously. “Are you kidding me?!” he screamed into the receiver. “You’re helping her divorce me?! I thought we were friends! If you knew all of this was going on why didn’t you tell me?! Why didn’t you try to convince her not to go through with it?!”

“Are you serious?” Namjoon said softly, almost a whisper. His hand was clenched so tightly around his phone that his knuckles were white. His voice was quiet, but that didn’t betray the rage behind his words.

“Do you know how many fucking times I told you to get your act together? Do you know how many times I heard from Jimin and the other guys that you all were out partying when you should have been at home with Y/N or at the very least, invited her out with you?! How many times I told you to stop playing games and pay attention to your wife before you lose her?! You weren’t there that night when she called me in tears, at her breaking point, because of all the shit you put her through. I told her to give you another chance but right now I’m thinking that calling you was a mistake. Don’t just sit there and speak from your ass.”

Jungkook was stunned into silence.

Namjoon breathed in deeply, and in a gentler voice, he continued, “I don’t want you guys to break up. I don’t want to see you two part ways and live your lives as enemies,” his voice was firm, “I called... I called because I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. You need to change Jungkook. You’ve probably figured it out at this point but Y/N wants nothing to do with you; from the look of things, the only way she’ll even remotely think of taking you back is if you completely change your attitude towards your marriage and start to treat her right. I want to help you okay?”

Namjoon’s words had a profound effect on Jungkook who listened intently, soaking in everything the older man had to say. He had already planned to win you back, but he had neglected to think in depth about what he had to do. It wasn’t enough to simply clean up the kitchen a few times and expect you to forgive him; he couldn’t just make your heart flutter by touching you a couple times and expect you to see him any differently.

The root of the problem was him. He had to change, he had reevaluate his life, fix his flaws, and put the important things into perspective before he could make any progress. And Namjoon was willing to help him do all of it despite his awkward predicament of being your divorce lawyer.

Jungkook felt sorry for lashing out at his friend. 

“Namjoon, thank you,” tears began to form in Jungkook’s eyes, he wiped them away as he continued, “thank you for not giving up on me. I know I’ve really messed up, but thank you for not leaving me to deal with this on my own,” his voice cracked, “thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon responded, roughly backhanding his own tears away.

Namjoon was suddenly grateful they were having the conversation over the phone rather than in person; it would have been embarrassing to cry in front of Jungkook.

“Anyway, Y/N came to see me yesterday with the papers. I mailed them in a couple hours ago, so I guess we could say your clock has already started. You have four months to make this right. Don’t mess it up.”

“I know.”

“Work hard. I believe in you,” he hung up.

                                                    ~ ~ ~ ~

“Chicken fried rice and a Coke for table number 4,” you said as you handed the order to the cook.

“Alright, it’ll be out in a few.”

You went back to the front of the busy restaurant to continue taking food orders.

Putting on a cheerful face, you approached the next guest who was poring over the menu indecisively. As you stood at his table waiting for him to acknowledge your presence, you soon realized he was so focused on what he was going to eat that he didn’t even notice you were there.

“Um excuse me sir,” you started hesitantly

“Wah!” he jumped, flinging the menu out of his hands. His unexpected reaction startled you and caused you to drop your notepad on his table.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you scrambled to retrieve the fallen menu, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You held out the menu to him with both hands, embarrassed at your carelessness.

“No worries,” he responded,  “It’s my fault for not paying attention to my surroundings,” he took the menu from your hands and in turn held out your notepad, “I also apologize Miss…” he craned his neck to see your nametag, “Y/N.”

His eyes met yours and he smiled as you took your notepad.

Handsome, you thought as you momentarily scanned his face, smiling back at him. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, I’ll have the onion soup, grilled chicken burger with a side of fries, bbq ribs, noodles, shrimp fried rice, roasted potatoes, lobster rolls, caesar salad, pasta, and a glass of lemonade.”

You scrambled to write down his entire order and looked back at him questioningly.

“Do you have more people coming or…”

“Nope, this is all for me,” he replied, plump pink lips parting as he smiled up at you once again.

“A-alright. It’ll take quite a bit to have everything out since this is such a large order.”

“That’s fine, I’m in no hurry.”

You went to the back to relay the man’s order to the cooks and as you left to serve another customer, you heard a collective gasp from the kitchen behind you.

                                                     ~ ~ ~ ~

It was closing time and as the last few customers left the restaurant, one person remained, taking his sweet time with the extravagant meal splayed in front of him.

“Ohmmm. Nommm. Ohhh,” were the pleased noises you could hear coming from his table.

You watched from the back counter in annoyance.

When he had ordered the ungodly amount of food, it was 7pm, two hours to closing time. By the time you had set the last dish on his table, it was 9:15pm and the only two employees left in the establishment were the head chef and you, a waitress; everyone had already gone home, and you weren’t allowed to leave until the last customer was gone.

You sighed discontentedly and went to the back, greeted by the sight of the head chef zipping up her jacket and adjusting her purse on her shoulder.

“Sara,” you cried in horror, “you’re not leaving me, are you?”

“Time for me to head out,” she replied sheepishly, “ I don’t mean to ditch you but my shift ended an hour ago and I gotta get home to my husband and kids.”

“Ah,” that’s understandable, you thought. “in that case, don’t worry about it. I’ll finish cleaning and I’ll lock up when that pig finishes eating.”.

“Y/N!” Sara glanced quickly behind you at the man eating ravenously. “Don’t call the customer a pig! Do you know how much that entire order costs?”

“A lot? And why can’t I call him a pig? He’s the reason we’re both still here after closing time.”

“Yes, more than my weekly salary actually. You better be nice so he tips you well...even he is eating like a pig. Those sounds he’s making are really something else.”

“See?! An absolute animal!”

From the main part of the restaurant the two of you could hear muffled, “Ommm, nommmm, yummm,” sounds.

“God, it’s so irritating,”

Through her laughter Sara nodded in agreement, “Anyways, I should get going. Good luck!”

You sent her off and locked the backdoor behind her then left the kitchen to continue wiping down the tables and sweeping the floor.

“Oh, Miss Y/N, you’re still here?”

“Where else would I be?” you retorted snarkily, immediately regretting your sass as Sara’s words replayed in your head. Something along the lines of, “Be nice. Big tip.”

“Are you enjoying your meal, sir?”, you questioned with a large fake smile plastered to your face,

“Yes, very much.”

Almost too much, you thought. You shifted your eyes to look at the large digital clock in the back of the restaurant: it was already 10pm.

The man’s gaze followed yours to the clock and after swallowing a spoonful of rice, he cleared his throat.

“Am I taking too long?”

“Oh no! Take your time!”

You turned back around and continued mopping, albeit aggressively, as you tried to control your temper. You liked your job at the restaurant; it was busy and the pay wasn’t great, but the familial atmosphere among your co-workers and the smiles you put on customers’ faces made it worth it to come back everyday. However, on this particular day, the man keeping you at work a whole hour after closing time was beginning to test your patience for him and the job itself.

“Excuse me?” his voice broke your not-so-nice thoughts about what you were going to do to him if there weren’t cameras in the building.

“I think I’ll take the rest of this to go.”

“THANK G- I mean, of course! I’ll be right back with a container!”

You scurried back to the kitchen and returned with two take out containers and the bill which amounted to $136.

As the man fished in his pocket for his wallet, you began to dump his food into the containers and he handed you the cash. You went to put it in the register and came back with his change and receipt.

“Oh, before I go could I have some water?” he asked, giving you one of his many smiles that evening.

“Uh, yeah no problem.” Just leave already!!

“You made your way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the employee fridge and as you rounded the corner to head back to the man’s table, you saw that it was vacant; the man nowhere in sight. You were alone in the restaurant.

“Why’d he make me go back there if he was just gonna leave,” you grumbled, “he didn’t even leave a...” you stopped in your tracks,”...tip…”

You stared at the table in disbelief; on top of the man’s discarded receipt lay three, crisp one hundred dollar bills.

Your hands trembled as you touched the money, “I must be dreaming.”

Delicately picking the money from the table as if it would disappear with one wrong move, you saw that the receipt was flipped to the backside and something was written on it in pen.

It read, “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time tonight; I get pretty serious when it comes to food and I didn’t realize how late it was. I wanted to thank you for putting up with me and my unusually large order, and you seem to be a patient and hardworking employee, so I wanted to tip you accordingly. Also, I’d like to make up for wasting your time. 01x-xxx-xxxx.”

-Kim Seokjin

A phone number?! Was this “Kim Seokjin” guy really expecting you to call him after the nonsense he put you and your co-workers through tonight? 

“Should I call…?” you wondered aloud. I’m not even divorced yet...you thought, it wouldn’t hurt to meet with him to thank him though. It’s not a date or anything. Plus, a $300 tip is almost unheard of, so it would be rude to just take it without saying thanks.

You looked at the clock: 10:43pm

Sighing, you pocketed the cash and receipt and began to clear the table.

I’ll call him tomorrow.

~ ~ ~ ~

note  ❀  heyy I posted like 2 days late again sorry T-T I’m going on vacation for three weeks next wednesday and I’m not guaranteed to have computer access so I probably won’t end up updating four months for quite a bit. I’ll still write the chapters though and try to get them up as soon as I get back home. thanks for reading!! :^))  ❀