#How Beneficial Are Sweatpants

[activewearmanufacturer]

How Beneficial Are Sweatpants For Exercising

Read in the details at:

[clothingmanufacturer]

Discover the Multiple Benefits of Wearing Sweatpants for Workouts

[lisasfashionworld]

Does Wearing Sweats Help Burn Fat?

Sweatpants by themselves don't help you burn fat. Combinations of factors like nutrition, activity, genetics, and general lifestyle have a major impact on fat loss. Wearing sweatpants may increase sweating, which may cause a brief loss of water weight, but this does not always translate into an increase in fat burning. Athletes' preferred option is still sweats. Are You Curious as to Why?

Why Do People Wear Sweatpants?

Physical Activity: When exercising or engaging in physical activity, sweatpants are often worn. They are perfect for fitness activity in the gym, yoga, and running since they offer flexibility and a broad range of motion.

Sweatpants are a popular choice for athletes and people healing from injuries since they are comfortable and loose-fitting. During rehabilitation, the loose fit may help with circulation and ease of movement.

What Are The Benefits of Sweatpants?

Psychological Comfort: A feeling of psychological comfort and relaxation can be enhanced by dressing comfortably, such as in sweatpants. This may be especially crucial for mental health.

Athletic clothing: For a variety of sports and activities, sweatpants are a popular choice for athletic clothing. They are frequently used as part of an athletic outfit or during warm-ups.

[pers1st]

can't quit you - alexia putellas x reader

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

warnings: bit suggestive, angst but happy ending

Taking a quick breath in after sleepily glancing at your phone to check the time, you shoot up in the bed that is not yours, next to the body that is not your dog's, whipping around. Your head drops as you get ever so dizzy, and you hit the nightstand next to the bed with a loud bang.

"Ow", you wince, holding your forehead tightly and pressing against it, as if that would help your pain in any way.

"Joder", a soft voice mumbles next to you as you push the covers back, revealing your still naked body. Usually, it would be dark when you left Alexia's bed, but by now, the sun had risen and you were late.

Fuck.

"Get up", you instruct her as you crawl out of the warmth of the bed, hastily gathering the clothes you'd left on the floor last night.

"Ale, we have training." The blonde is still laying in bed, the duvet cover all the way up to her nose as she shields herself in comfortability. She doesn't react to your words.

"Ale, we're late", you huff as you pull your sweatpants on. At that, the seemingly unconscious body shoots up, banging her head the same way you had.

"¡Joder!", she curses as she mimics your actions.

It's been two months since you last spent a night in Alexia's bed. Your relationship was a long and stable one, and when you broke the news to your teammates, every single one of them was shocked.

You and Alexia, however, weren't. Despite the two years you called yourself her girlfriend, the both of you agreed that it was time to call it quits. Time to go back to being friends. You let yourself become too comfortable, and, along with it - clingy. The two of you could never be apart, and you both know that it wasn't beneficial for you or Alexia individually.

Still, you know that, no matter what happened, you can always count on Alexia, and so the breakup felt less like a stop in your relationship and more like a shift. That's how you found yourself in her bed after a team night out, and then, just a month ago, the two of you silently agreed that whatever this was - it was okay. You had, after all, agreed to remain friends (with benefits, it seemed).

But the golden rule of it all seems to be that you don't stay over. You and Alexia agreed to spend time apart, to be on your own, and although it included late night calls and (sometimes drunken) hookups, you didn't sleep over anymore. You didn't wake up in her arms anymore. Until today.

"Ale, I don't have any training clothes", you sigh, the realization dawning on you that of course, you didn't pack an overnight bag. Why would you? You never stay over.

"So? Wear mine", Alexia shrugs, throwing a pair of shorts into your face. You duck away quickly and watch as the fabric gets caught on the lamp.

"Yeah, sure", you chuckle.

"You go to training, I'll be there once I've driven by my house."

"But that'll mean more extra laps, no? Just wear mine", Alexia huffs, seemingly unbothered by your problem. It's, however, not as easy as it used to be.

"I can't, Ale. We're not together anymore, we don't share clothes, we don't fucking fall asleep together!"

You didn't notice your voice raised until Alexia raises her eyebrows at you, wincing ever so slightly.

With her still looking at you like a deer caught in headlights, you grab your keys from her wardrobe and leave her behind, not caring to say goodbye.

Your ex-girlfriend confuses you. How does she not see the problem? How does she not see the gravity that comes with the night you spent at her flat? How does she not understand the problems this causes?

You huff in annoyance as you walk towards your car, knowing that you'll be running laps for a good half-hour after training, seeing as officially, you were supposed to be there five minutes ago. With the extra ten minutes it took to go home, and the fifteen minute drive to the training grounds, you know that Jona will have a very stern talk to you. The only hope you can cling onto is that Alexia is already there, and the fact that no one notices how weird it is for the both of you to be late on the same day, when you usually never are.

Jona's words are harsh, but they are nothing you can't handle. Alexia already finished her laps during training, it seems, as she is not with you while you round the pitch over and over again. With only two laps left, you speed up slightly, not noticing the figure sat on the bench before you finally come to a stop, reaching for your water bottle.

Keira raises her eyebrows at you silently as you take greedy gulps. It's not a particularly warm day, but the sun is beaming down on the pitch as if it is Summer and the excessive running left you dry.

"What happened? You're never late."

You know by her tone that she is hinting at something, but you shrug as the two of you begin walking towards the building.

"My alarm didn't go."

It's a lie. You didn't even set an alarm, with how exhausted you had been last night. Keira wants to say something else, you can sense it in the way she keeps looking at you and then back down, but you don't urge her to, because you don't want to hear it. You don't want to hear anything, really. You didn't speak a single word to Alexia during training, dodging her every time you were asked to partner up and not cheering her on the way you usually did.

Even now, as you joined Keira for lunch in the cafeteria after a quick shower, you lead your friend to the table furthest in the back, away from everyone else. She doesn't mind, though, instead yapping to you about everything and nothing. Aitana joins you halfway through your meal, and you quickly become the third wheel, though you can't exactly complain. Your head is dangerously close to exploding, with the speed that thoughts are racing through your head.

Maybe sleeping with Alexia after the breakup has been a bad idea. After all, you split because it seemed impossible to spend time away from each other. With the excuse of remaining "friends", you still partnered with her every time, made conversation with her about everything and nothing, ended up in her bed every evening just to escape mere minutes later and pretend nothing happened. It's a vicious cycle, and it needs to stop. And that realization is what's bothering you the most. The fact that you need to stop. The fact that you actually need to be apart from the woman you still love so dearly.

You don't notice Keira and Aitana already left until a new body appears in front of you. Glancing up, you find the one person you didn't wanted to see.

"Estas bien?", she asks, looking down at your full plate. Feeling nauseous all of a sudden, you declare your lunch finished and throw your wet hair over your shoulder.

"Sí", you mumble as you rise from your seat, beginning to walk to the tray of dirty dishes.

"Estas segura?"

"Sí, Ale", you huff, reaching around her to discard your plate.

"Okay", Alexia shrugs. "Are you coming over tonight?"

You shake your head, looking at her with a stare that, admittedly, she doesn't deserve. Alexia isn't the catalyst of this problem, anyways. It was the both of you who made this decision, silently agreeing on a plan that now seemed so foolish. How did you expect to spend every night with her, not allowing yourself to be embraced by her warmth and love, and not fall for her all over again? Alexia agreed to the breakup. She is okay with the two of you not being together again. So, why the hell aren't you?

"No, I can't tonight", you reply, though it is a total lie. You don't have plans at night, ever, because you always know where you'll be. Where you would have been. If the two of you were still together.

"Okay", Alexia says, though it sounds more like a question. You can't seem to stand in her presence for another second, as you bid her a quick, cold-hearted goodbye only to sprint away from the cafeteria and to the locker room to gather your bags and speed home.

Alexia and you agreed. You need to be alone. And you need to practice it, now that you can't drag yourself into her arms again. There is no space for you anymore.

You can't seem to sleep on your own. Before, you were so worn out from Alexia's persistence to wreck you in every possible, leaving you in a sleep so deep the only thing to get you to stir was your shrieking alarm. Now, though, you fall into bed with a thousand thoughts rummaging through your head, and you lie awake for hours, watching the sun set, watching the sun rise, all while tossing and turning around, desperate to find rest.

It's not difficult for the team to catch on. You sweat off every bit of concealer meant to hide the shadows beneath your eyes, and your movements are slow - hazy, almost. Your performance is average, at most, and no one had ever seen you perform averagely.

Alexia notices too - at least you hope, because there is no way she can just forget about you, is there? She watches you curiously, but she never says a word about your piss poor sprints, your late passes or weak shots.

Even Jona seems hesitant to say something - and that is what you're left with. Everyone looking, no one asking. Everyone noticing, no one checking. The whole situation is beginning to drive you insane - Alexia is starting to drive you insane. Though she is not the culprit of this, you can't help but feel your heart wither away every time you look at her and feel just a little bit of anger. This isn't how you want to feel about the woman you loved for such a long time.

It takes you exactly a week to end up in her bed again. Alexia doesn't ask why you are behaving the way you are, and she doesn't react to your hesitation to come over to hers again, which makes you crave her even more. You're a bit like a child, when it comes to these things. You always seem to want what you can't have, to want what doesn't want you. Her head just peeks up from between your thighs as you lean back into her cushions, eyes hazy and head spinning. Alexia is so, so good to you. The anger is long forgotten, at this point.

"Estas bien?", she asks the way she always does, and it causes you to chuckle.

"Sí, Ale. Muy bien", you huff, as she lays down next to you gently, her own body covered in beads of sweat. You push yourself up from the mattress with the last bit of strength you have left, gently straddling her lap as you lean down to capture her lips in another kiss. Realistically, you are worn out, at this point. You've been in Alexia's bed for hours, and the both of you are likely satisfied. But it is so hard to leave.

She chuckles into your lips, intertwining the both of your hands with hers as you finally steal another kiss from her.

This- it felt oddly domestic. There was a softness in her eyes that you haven't seen- or potentially just not noticed, since the two of you broke up. It makes you stop in your tracks.

"What's wrong?", she asks as you lean back on her lap, looking at this glint in her eyes that completely captures you. You can't describe it, but this feels so right- being here, in her bed, being on top of her, laughing, kissing, sharing intimacy, the look in her eyes as she gazes at your every inch, that it feels entirely wrong. These moments are over. Your relationship is over. You have to remind yourself, again and again.

"I should go", you huff silently, pressing one last kiss to her lips before climbing off of her. You almost whimper at the loss of contact, but you rise to your feet anyways, searching for your clothes on her wooden floor.

"You could stay." Alexia sits up, patting the spot next to her as she looks at you, following your every movement with her eyes.

"No, Ale. I should go", you remind her, and remind yourself, and pull your hoodie over your head.

"I'll see you tomorrow?", you ask, though it is a given. The two of you always see each other at training.

"Will you partner with me for passing?", she asks back, a chuckle on her lips.

"Why? Miss me already?"

You only catch the meaning of what you said by the time you are in her hallway, and you pull the door of her apartment close a little harsher than expected. Alexia doesn't miss you. The both of you know it.

It seems like a vicious cycle that the two of you are caught in. Every time you decide to put some distance between the two of you, it leaves you craving her even more. It almost feels like an addiction you are so badly trying to break, but you relapse every time, soaking in every second you can spend in her arms. You go over to hers a few times, indulging the attention she gives every inch of you, and then you leave her high and dry, the wall between you rising again as you dodge her during training and outside of it.

Just last night, you were in Alexia's arms, letting her take care of you the way she always does, letting her kiss every inch of you until there was nothing left and the two of you were breathless.

Today, you didn't speak a single word to her.

Unable to stand the silence in your apartment, you asked Keira to join you for dinner at home, after texting Alexia that you couldn't come tonight.

Alexia, obviously, doesn't seem to believe you as she knocks on your door furiously, all the while Taylor Swift is echoing off the walls of your kitchen quietly, with Keira sitting on the countertop, stirring the pasta every now and then. It is dark in Barcelona already, and just twenty four hours ago, you were with Alexia. Still, she is the last thing you expect when you open the door.

She is dressed in sweats, but she still looks so good. It takes you a second to actually recognize her presence.

"Alexia, I have-"

a guest.

That's what you intended to say, but the woman pushed past you already, barging through your apartment.

"We need to have a talk", she declares as she strides through your hallway. You only manage to catch up to her by the time she has noticed Keira, who looks between the two of you questioningly.

"You, out!", Alexia points to the door as Keira shakes her head, a grin on her face.

"But we haven't had dinner yet!", she protests with a chuckle, but at seeing Alexia's stern face, which isn't kidding in the least, she looks at you, pleadingly.

You shrug. No one disagrees with Alexia.

"Wow, just kicking me out? I'm hungry, you were supposed to feed me! I can't believe this", she mumbles as she pushes herself off the countertop, shaking her head in disbelief as she walks past you.

"I hope your food burns!", she yells from the hallway when Alexia sits down on the couch and you go to turn the stove off. The door crashes closed with a loud bang.

"That wasn't nice", you point out to your ex-girlfriend. Alexia is strict when it comes to football, but outside of the sport, outside of the captain-responsibility, she is the sweetest teammate, friend, girlfriend. Her behavior towards Keira makes you sense the gravity of whichever conversation she is going to have with you, and it makes anxiety tingle in your stomach.

"Sit with me", she orders, though it sounds more like a question when she looks at you and you can see the slightest bit of doubt in her eyes. Along with that softness. That glint.

You are next to her within seconds.

"Y/N, I need to know. If we are friends or not- I can't do this hot and cold", she starts, and the vulnerability in her voice makes you shudder. You didn't know that this affected her at all, she never voiced any complaints, but the way she looks at you makes you realize that this whole situation had nagged her more than she admitted.

"Why did you agree to this- whatever, if you don't want it?", you ask, not knowing how else to describe the situation, curious to know what she is asking of you. Does she not want you to come over anymore? Does she want you to be over every night?

"Because I can't..."

You allow her the time to search for whatever word she is looking for, knowing that she always struggled with English.

"Quit you. I can't quit you, and seeing you, holding you, if you are in my bed I can convince myself that this isn't real, that we didn't break up", she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for you to hear. She spins your head.

She agreed to the breakup. She agreed that it would be best for the both of you when you first opened the conversation of how dependent you felt on her. In truth, the realization of how much you love Alexia had only hit you when every footballer had suddenly gotten engaged, and you realized that all you wanted was to marry Alexia. The thought was scary, and it sent you into a rabbit hole for a bit, wondering silently whatever you were going to do with yourself when Alexia decided that this relationship just didn't work anymore. Now, as you look at her, you realize that it's foolish. Calling dibs on the breakup was your worst idea yet. But Alexia agreed.

"But you- you agreed, when I broke up with you. You wanted the breakup", you look at her with a questioning gaze, lingering on the freckles on her cheeks.

"Because I don't want to hold you back, amor. If breaking up with me is what you need then I'll try to survive, somehow. But that doesn't mean I want it."

At that, you throw yourself into Alexia's arms. How have you been so stupid? How have you hurt the one and only person you have ever, truly loved, just because you were scared?

You sense Alexia's hesitancy, but after a few seconds, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you even deeper into her chest. You can feel her heartbeat, and smell her perfume, and it makes you question how you have survived the past months without being hers. Her arms feel so familiar, so comforting, that you crave nothing more than to be here - in her embrace - forever.

"I only broke up with you because I was scared. I was so scared of you ever leaving me, and-"

Alexia interrupts you.

"I could never. I could never quit you, amor. You are stuck with me forever", she mumbles into your hair as she gently rocks the two of you from side to side, her arms never loosening around you. You chuckle at her choice of words, though you do admit it is somewhat fitting.

"You'll never quit me?", you ask, a slight smile on your lips as you pull back slightly. At that, she only tightens her arms around you.

"Never. I will never quit you."

notes: this is literally horrible

[juniefruit]

*-producer bf chan-*

Just some thoughts I had, there's not really order to any of these bullet points. :) y'all I don't proofread these-

Word count: 550

Producer chan definitely writes songs with you in mind. He’ll call you into his apartment studio so he can show you what he’s working on (he needs validation) and also to ask if you approve, even though you say anything he makes sounds godly. You two met because of your jobs in media production. Since you both have similar backgrounds, he values you and feels like you help him to be the best version of himself. 

When it’s a stay-at-home kind of day, he wears his favorite oversized hoodie and comfy sweatpants. Back hugs all. day.  Sometimes you have to physically block him from going into his studio on his day off. Or, drag him out by his rolling chair when he needs to take a break. Poor boy overworks himself to the point of exhaustion, he usually can’t stay awake for more than 40 minutes if you guys are all bundled up on the couch. You don’t mind though, he could fall asleep on the kitchen floor and you wouldn’t dare disturb him. 

His favorite place for date night is a dimly lit high-end restaurant, followed by a walk along the riverside, or an outdoor mall illuminated with string lights. You hold hands, the weather is a bit chilly as it’s already dark out. You two are the ultimate night owls given the right circumstances. You think he looks so good in formal attire, and he can say the same for you. Truly a power couple. 

Being skilled in any type of media content means you’re always surrounded by it in public. He can’t help but notice certain melodies or beats that play and point them out to you. You think it’s absolutely adorable when he goes on little rants about the most niche producer things or pet peeves. 

If you don’t have anything on your schedule, you’ll come to the recording studio with him and just chill out. You’ll say hi to the boys, mainly chat with han and changbin while chan is busy. You’ll sneak out of the studio behind chans back, and come back with some coffees or treats for the group. The group teasingly calls you mom. 

He’s big on physical touch and words of affirmation. If you’re not the best with words, then he knows how meaningful even the lightest touch can be. You both give and take from eachother in order to fulfill your own needs; it’s a very mentally beneficial relationship. 

Berry!!!!!! Berry loves crashing on the couch/bed with you guys. You all become a big tangled pile of limbs by the end of the show/movie. One of the smaller things you’ve learned to enjoy is going on walks together with Berry. It’s one way to convince Chan to take a break from work, too. 

Your apartment is adorned with various vintage records/vinyls, a guitar, and just various music inspired decor. You rarely use the big overhead light, since it gives off doctor’s office vibes. Instead, you opt for sunlight from the big patio windows during the day, and warm lamp lights throughout the apartment after dark. 

P.S: The thing I love about chan the most is how he’s always at the back of the group to make sure everyone’s there/safe. If that isn’t the GREENEST flag!!! 

[supernatural-thingz]

On Fire

Part 2

Part 1

Part 2

Poly!lost boys x hellhound!reader

18+

Y/n sat quietly in the candle lit cave as her boys were out causing chaos. After some time had passed, she put her book down and decided to get cleaned up, her body still cased in ash from her shift earlier. She wandered through the caverns of the endless cave. It's really quite a fascinating structure. Some of the cave was mad up from this old chic hotel but other parts were formed over the years naturally and she loved the little pieces of nature hidden of the depths of their cave. Hidden away in the depths of the cave was a spring of ocean water that pooled in and made the perfect bath. The boys had put candles all around and Marko even snagged a few towels from some surfers he was harrasing on the beach. As she stepped into the room, it was dark. Not a single candle was lit but that's an easy fix. She flashed her eyes a crimson red and snapped her fingers together, emitting a flame around the room that lit all the candles. She smirked in satisfaction. Hellhounds could control fire and have incredible strength. Even more powerful than a werewolf but kind of similar. Y/n took her hair down and stripped off the random tshirt and sweatpants she had thrown on before entering the water. The ocean water felt cool on her skin as she scrubbed the soot from her body. Once she was clean of ash, she leaned against the edge of the pool just relaxing in the cool water.

It didn't last as long as y/n had hoped as she heard whoops and hollers echo through the cave. The boys were home. Dwayne was the first one to find y/n. "You know, if shifting causes you to have to bathe more, I'm all for it" he smirked as he peeled of his blood clad jacket and jeans before joining y/n in the pool. Y/n laughs and looks Dwayne over. He had blood all over him. These boys were messy esters. Even more so when they're pissed off. "Well considering how messy you all are, I think us all bathing more would be beneficial" y/n teases. Dwayne laughs as he gets closer to y/n and wraps his hands around her waist. Y/n studied his face. He had streaks of blood on his cheeks. She cupped water in her hand and washed away the red from his smooth skin. Dwayne watched her every move. He had never known such kindness. She was the kindest soul he had ever known and it still shocked him that he was theirs. Dwayne locked eyes with y/n and went to kiss her but they were both covered in a huge splash of water. "It was definitely a blonde" y/n said as she wiped the sea water out of her eyes. Marko now stood in the pool laughing his ass off. His curls now wet and crumbling apart making his hair look longer than usual. "I had to do it! It was too perfect of an opportunity!" Marko reasoned as he waded over to Dwayne and y/n. "Bullshit, you jealous little ass!" Dwayne bellowed as he grabbed Marko and dunked him under the water. Y/n shook her head and smirked at their antics before walking up to Dwayne and kissing his lips. "You know how jealous he gets, D." She teases knowing full well that Marko can hear her. Marko wasted no time striding over to y/n in the pool and smashed his lips into hers with such force that she hit the side of the pool. "I know my jealousy drives you wild, baby" Marko winks. "Excuse me but this is just rude!" Paul yells as he entered the room and kicked off his boots before making quick work of his clothes and joining the trio in the pool. "Starting the party without the best member?" Paul teased, grabbing y/n away from Marko. His eyes didn't land on her eyes like they typically did. Hid eyes were trained on the still fading scar on y/n's chest, right below her collarbone. Y/n grabbed his chin and picked his head up to meet her gaze. "I'm OK,Paulie. I promise." She reassures, quickly kissing his lips. He brushed his hand over her cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear. "I just worry about you, sweetness. I can't help it. I just wanna protect you from everything and anything. I want nothing to hurt you or pierce this beautiful skin." Paul leaned his forehead onto hers before taking a deep breathe. "I heal, hunny. I'm not as fragile as I look" y/n smirked before running her hands over Paul's shoulders. Paul immediately smiles "Oh I know you're not fragile, sweetheart. You can't be with us around. I'm sure we would of broken you by now if you weren't so tough." Paul winked before kissing her lips and diving into the pool to clean off his dinner. Y/n felt a presence and knew immediately who the feeling belonged to. She looked over at the doorway and David was leaning against it. His icy blue eyes watching the boys goofing around in the pool and you.

"Our pest problem has been taken care of, my love" David cooed as he entered the room and took off his blood stained clothes. He never broke eye contact with y/n as he entered the pool and made his way directly to her. He grabbed her hips as he got close enough and pulled her close. " Thank you for taking care of them. They were just gonna be a problem." Y/n said as she put her hands on David's chest. "They hurt our queen. We couldn't possibly let them just walk away" David responded as he held y/n in his arms. Y/n hummed as she felt safe in his arms. Surrounded by her boys. Everything felt right.

David swiftly caught her legs over his arms and put them around his waist. " I hear Paul made you a promise if you were good while we were gone and the cave's not on fire so I'd say you listened" David said as he slowly moved his hips, making his length tease against her. Y/n let out a hum that got all the other boys attention. "I..I just read my book....and took a bath." Y/n was able to answer breathlessly as David continued to move his hips, teasing her. "I'd say that counts as being good" David cooed before he captured her lips in a heated kiss and grabbed her ass with both hands. She swiftly lifted her up in the water slightly and slid his length into her. She let out a cry of bliss. Dwayne soon stood behind her, holding her up. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and started kissing the side of her neck. As David increased his pace, y/n leaned back into Dwayne more. Dwayne held her shoulders and reclined her back into the water so that she was laying on it, floating. Marko and Paul immediately came over and stared kissing her now fully exposed torso as Dwayne continued to kiss her neck and face. David rocketed his hips to meet hers and she bit her lip as her eyes turned red. "There you go,baby. Relax. Let us take care of you" Dwayne whispered in her ear. Her back arched as David continued at his quick speed. " Fuck this feels amazing" she gasped out as the boys just smirked. David clenched his jaw as he grabbed her hips with a bruising strength and rutted into her. David's eyes turned gold as his speed began to grow sloppy and y/n let out a moan as they released together. "Fuck Kitten. Feels like you bring me back to life" David groaned as he pulled out and trailed kisses up her stomach.

Paul was quick to take David's place between her legs. "You still with us,sugar?" Paul asked as he pulled y/n up so that her chest was against his. "You know it takes more than that to knock me out" y/n teases with half lidded eyes. She felt another pair of hands sneak around her stomach and looked over her shoulder to see Marko, grinning from ear to ear. "I think me and Paul have a plan to knock you out" Marko teased before kissing her neck. "Oh yeah?" She questioned, biting her lip. "Yeah,sweets. I think you deserve it after the day you've had" Paul adds as he smashes his lips into hers. She kisses him back,weaving her fingers through his long blonde hair. Paul then moves a hand down to her folds and his touch sends Shockwave through her whole body. "Fuck! Paulie please!" Y/n cried out begging him for more than just a touch.

He laughed a little before lining himself up with her entrance and rocking his hips forward but after that he stills his movement and moves his mouth to her ear. "You think you can handle me and Marko, sweetness? You gonna be a good girl while we tear you apart?" Paul teased with a pleased smirk. Paul was quite the tease when he wanted to be. Yeah most of the time he was a golden retriever goofball but times like these seemed to ignite his more dominant instincts and it was intoxicating. Y/n nods at a loss for words and Paul kisses her jaw as he starts to move his hips, dragging in and out of her slowly. He knew how to tease her. How to get her exactly where he wanted her. This woman was his world. A goddess. He wanted to treat her as such at any chance he got. Y/n's mouth remained open as she gasped at all the places Paul's length was hitting just right at this slow speed. But she wanted more. She pulled at the blonde vamps hair, unable to voice what she wanted as she was lost in the pleasure. Paul laughed as he let out a breathy moan. "Fuck yeah,baby. You want more?" Paul asked as Marko began biting at her neck from behind. "Yes" y/n groaned out. What she wasn't expecting was the feeling of Marko's hand feeling for her entrance and then him rocketing his hips,plunging into her in rhythm with Paul. Y/n lets out a screech and wraps her arm back towards Marko as she rakes he nails across his shoulder. "Shhh. Easy, Mi amore" Marko whispered as him and Paul stilled their movement and allowed her to adjust to them. "Fuck,sweets! If you keep squeezing us like that, we aren't lasting too long" Paul groans as he feels y/n's heat flutter against him. Once the boys felt satisfied that they had given y/n enough time to adjust, they both started rocking their hips in rhythm. Moans and groans came from all 3 of them as they moved together, the water around them splashing up at the momentum. Y/n's eyes turned red and her face started to smolder with a slight flame as she grabbed onto Marko with one hand and Paul with the other. "Ready,my love? Together OK?" Paul cooed with half lidded eyes. Y/n nodded as she threw her head back against Marko's chest and both vamps let out a moan while y/n's back arched at she let out a moan. "Fuck!" Marko exclaimed as he pulled out of her and tried to catch his breath (yeah he doesn't breath but old habits right?). Paul follows suit and peppers kisses over her face.

She looked drunk. She was in complete bliss. Exhausted but happy. Paul picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the pool where a towel clad Dwayne was waiting with a towel. Dwayne took her in his arms and wrapped the towel around her before carrying her out of the room and through the cave pathways to her bed. Well it was more their bed now since the boys preferred sleeping by her instead of in their usual spots. She was home for them. She was their safety. Dwayne laid y/n down in her bed and pulled the blanket over her towel clad form. Her eyes fought off sleep as she stared up at Dwayne. "But what about you?" Y/n asked with a voice full of sleep while reaching a hand out to him. Dwayne grabbed her hand and kissed it before laying down next to her and kissing her temple. "Later,Princess. Now you sleep." Dwayne anwsers as he pulls her onto his chest and notices how fast she falls asleep. Paul comes into the room not long after and curled up next to her, kissing her shoulder before nuzzling into her sleeping form. Marko then comes in and lays across her feet like a lap dog cuz let's be real he's just everyone's favorite rabid chihuahua. Finally, David joins his family laying on the other side of her as he observes the way she had fallen asleep in Dwayne's arms practically laying on him. Their little Hellhound.

[leeloooonfire]

Modern Steddie-Roommate AU

Bros don't kiss and make out on their couch during a Saturday night in their living room while The Great British Baking Show on Netflix runs in the background.

Bros don't want to suck each other's dicks and want to wrap their legs around the other's waist, pulling them closer just to feel them, you know? To feel the warm skin and the erratic heartbeat and maybe even their rock-hard penis tenting in the grey sweatpants.

And bros certainly don't do some research on anal sex because they want to dick each other.

At least, that's what Steve always thought before 2020 started, the world went to shit and he found himself in three months-long lockdown with his best friend Eddie.

However, suddenly he finds himself in his best friend's and roommate's arms more often than not - with lips bright red and swollen because of too many lingering kisses and Eddie sucking at his bottom lip as if his life depends on it.

And obviously, three years later he has to ask himself: How did that even happen?

"SERIOUSLY, DINGUS, WHO DID THAT HAPPEN?" Robin shouts at him over a glass of deep red Cabernet Sauvignon that looks far too fancy for the woman who he dragged out of a roadside ditch at three am after drunkenly falling over while trying to pee.

"Eh," he says very eloquently and shrugs his shoulders. "It just happened."

"But how does this just happen?" She says with a mock imitation of his natural bass tone, "It's not like he slipped over your disgusting floor while being naked and HOLE IN ONE, or whatever."

Steve winces, "Ugh, could you stop being so disgusting? It just happened, ok? We got drunk, we talked about sex as dudes sometimes do and realised that we haven't had some in a long while and since he's kinda hot and I'm just-"

"Horny all the time," Robin interrupts with a sardonic half-smile.

"- and I'm me, it happened," Steve rolls his eyes at her snarky remark and continues, "It's not like it's a bad thing."

"Dude, DUDE! You two are like 5 minutes away from signing your marriage contracts the way you're acting since Christmas 2020 and haven't even talked about feelings - like - ever, right?"

Steve thinks, now won't be the best time to tell Robin, that yeah - he and Eddie actually thought about getting married for tax beneficial reasons and because then he can ask for legal guardian ship for Max more easily.

"Riiiiiight," he says with an, he thinks, kinda unobtrusive tone, but Robin chokes on her wine, wheezes for a few heartbeats and then shouts over her shoulders towards the kitchen, "GOD DAMMIT, NANCY! Steve and Eddie think about getting married for real!"

"NO FUCKING WAY!"

[infernalodie]

𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 || 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐞𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

“𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯' 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘢, 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯' 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘢 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯' 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯' 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦“

Inspo: Montell Fish - Hotel

Pairing: Shouei Barou x Male!reader

Summary: There was something here since the two of you saw one another...

Warnings: Smut with a flash of fluff. Characters aged up.

Words: 1825

DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

“B-Barou, hold on-”

“No. I’ve waited long enough.”

“Can we at least go somewhere else?”

“No. They need to know you’re mine.”

Your hands pressed against the behemoth’s chest, hoping to create some space, but Barou didn’t budge. Lips curled into a small smirk as he stared down at your reddened features. Eyes flickering around to your guys’ sleeping teammates. “Barou!” You whined softly, attempting to pull up the blue sweatpants that the man had been trying to rip from your body. “Showers. We can go there.”

The man did very little to show interest, only continuing to place kisses across your rich skin. The hem of your shirt bunched up around his wrists as he kissed, licked, nipped, and sucked spots across your stomach. Fingers gently toying with your pebbled nipples, inclined to break down your resilience with due time. Some specific placed kiss, feather-light touches, and you’ll become a needy toy within seconds.

“Barou…” You panted, hands sprawling through his spiked hair, nibbling on your bottom lip. The sight of him was something out of this world. Crimson orbs staring up at you, mouth placing spells on your body that formed a warm flush to your skin, he was something short of normal. “Hey! Hold on a sec-! Fuck.” You moaned, panicked features dissolving to one of relaxation.

Barou slowly stroked your cock, enjoying the sight of your embarrassed expression. “We do this now or I leave you high and dry, Y/n,” he whispered in that silky smooth tone of his. “This is beneficial for both of us.”

Although the truth was a tough pill to swallow, he was right. For days, the two of you had been training and dealing with the games you two and the rest of the team had to perform in. But ever since the both of you had met, there had been some sort of tension between the two of you. A thick rope was tied around your throat and tightened each time you were forced to communicate with the man. And it seemed like now, after nights of staring at the large hulking figure of Barou’s, trying to keep your gaze away from the spots that created a tent in your shorts, you were having those desires fulfilled.

“I don’t know how this is beneficial for me when anyone could see me like this.” You tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp, feeling incredibly hot with his warm palms encompassing your cock.

But it was useless with Barou applying his other hand to the center of your chest. “I know you want this as much as I do, Y/n,” he growled. “Just accept it. You want me as much as I want you.”

His thumb brushed across your red tip, smearing the pre-cum. You huffed, trying to keep any other noises beneath and avoid waking up any of your other teammates. The last thing you wanted to deal with was people not looking at you as a teammate or for them to just cast you out. And Barou wasn’t making it easy for you to keep your mind focused on that. If anything, you were sure the man could care less about what the others thought. The two of you were carrying the team through the first selection process, so they would have to respect the both of you.

Resting on your elbows, you watched with a warm face the man toy with you. His own eyes watching every twitch and twist of your expression as you tried to hold in those sweet little noises. Beginning to let his hand move and slowly stroke your small needy cock.

Moving closer, soon Barou was sitting between your naked thighs with those innocent eyes of yours staring up at him. The smile that twitched onto his lips was unknown to him, only knowing the genuine admiration in his heart as he slowly closed the space between the two of you. “You look gorgeous, Y/n.”

Meeting his lips it was a shot of adrenaline into the bloodstream. Because it wasn’t lust-filled or derived down to desire. Although you’d been wanting him since you first saw him, you wanted something softer. Something passionate and intimate. And you loved and adored every second of the moment.

Pressing your lips against his, something that was quickly reciprocated. His free hand holding your cheek with the delicacy that would be shown with a growing flower. Lips moving at your own pace that crafted a perfect bubbly feeling in both of your guts. This unpolished and abstract feeling neither of you knew of. It was overwhelming like Barou’s hulking figure towering over you. It was warm like Barou’s warm gaze that rested on you when you slept. It was soft like the hold he had on you. Everything about it was new but not unwelcome. Because you leaned on one arm, using your other arm to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

With careful fingers and considerate thinking, Barou’s hand that once held your cock slid down with his index gently pushing past your fluttering entrance. The white-hot pain that flooded your body made you pull him closer. Allowing him to swallow your whimpers as you curled your legs around his waist. Inviting him in with one hand gently pushing against his pelvis, a soft but noticeable sign that Barou took into account. Getting you ready with slow and consistent thrusts and curls of his finger, all the while keeping the intimacy of the kiss. Ignoring the pain of his lungs pleading for a second of air.

You didn’t know if it was just the sensation of him partly being inside you or the kiss, but you were a muddy mess. And when you felt the tip of his cock start to stretch you, you pulled from his lips with a gasp. Bruised lips pursing together as your eyes clamped shut. Barou pulled away, sitting up with his hands finding their places on your hips with his thumbs rubbing circles. Hoping it would be enough to soothe the very apparent pain that increased the further he pushed.

And inevitably, you were a panting and whimpering mess with him flush to your body. Cock filling you to the brim. “Are you okay?” He whispered, teeth gritting as his hand was placed on the wall the two of you were lying beside. The vice grip you had around him was damn near unbearable and was slowly guiding him toward the release he’d been deprived of for a week.

It took a moment, a few shaky breaths, but you bit your bottom lip and looked up at him with tear-brimmed eyes. Nodding softly with your hands holding his sides. With a few consecutive thrusts that followed one after the other, creating a fuzzy feeling in your head, the pain subsided with pure animalistic arousal. Those groans that once fell from your lips morphed into moans that came as music to Barou’s ears.

The man hovering above you groaned, eyes flickering shut at the tensing and relaxing warmth of your walls surrounding his cock. Yanking him towards that edge the two of you were chasing and reaching out towards.

But whatever switch had been hardwired, redirecting the emotions and feelings you felt, had turned into something completely new. A different line of energy shooting into your veins made you stare up at Barou differently. Like you were finally feeling something that you didn’t before.

Whatever it had been, it had taken Barou by surprise when he felt your tongue run up the side of his neck. Unable to help the wet sensation from making his eyes roll back into his head. Tilting his head just enough to give you more access to act on these desires. You clamped your lips on his pulse point, moans muffled and sending vibrations right through his body.

Barou sped up his thrusts, hips slamming into yours with abandon. The mind becomes an unfinished puzzle of thoughts with your hips gently rocking to meet his thrusts. Those sweet noises of yours were surely loud enough to wake up the rest of the team, but he didn’t care. These blissful sensations you were giving him were unspeakable. No words could give them enough justice.

“Fuck, Y/n.” Barou panted, one of his hands reaching for the back of your head and forcing your lips against his skin. That tingling sensation in his lower gut was very apparent now, the euphoria in his body spreading throughout his cock pounded into you. “Fuck, I’m g-gonna fucking-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence with your lips smashing against his. Silencing the loud guttural moan to fill the room as he felt his release finally collapse on him. Hips stilling, flush with you before they twitched and he bucked into you. But your tight hole milked him dry before he inevitably pulled away from your body.

Although you were also in a sweaty daze, the sight of Barou sweating, cock fairly limp with remnants of his cum dripping off the tip, was something heavenly. Body cut by the gods and placed in your path to test your metal.

A smile tugged at his lips, running a hand through his hair that had lost its volume. “Fuck, you’re amazing.” But his eyes drifted down and found that you hadn’t finished. Your tip a needy red with pre cum dripping onto your stomach. And then you saw the flicker of light in his eyes as he slowly lowered to his stomach. A smirk etched across his lips as he said, “You deserve this as much as me.”

And you sat up on your elbows and watched him take you into his mouth. Head rolling back with your eyes closed.

If this was heaven, you weren’t ever planning on leaving.

“Hey, Y/n!” Isagi’s voice shook you from your daze, offering a tiny wave and hum, which was enough for the boy to frown, taking in your appearance and the bruises along your neck. Circles are evident underneath your eyes, showing that lack of rest had been a contributor. “Uh, are you okay? Were you training last night?”

The question made your body tense as you gave a sheepish smile. “Yup! For sure! That’s what happened!” You left zero room for the other to speak as you rushed over to your team's table. Isagi and Bachira didn’t allow their eyes to drift away from you, seeing you wince as you took a seat beside Barou. And speaking of your star player, the man grinned down at you, whispering something in your ear that caused you to clamp a hand over his mouth.

“They had sex,” Kunigami stated, shocking the two boys. But when he was met with silence, he found the pair staring at him incredulously. Making him stop chewing on his food and raise a brow. “What? You guys didn’t hear ’em last night?”

[harlowsbby]

It’s like that?

“So this is who we are? This is what we’re doing now.”

For the past few days you’ve been giving Jack the silent treatment and for all good reasons, you had joined Jack for tour and he’s been such a grouch and having such a nasty attitude towards everyone and including you that you’ve had enough.

“Trouble in paradise? Y/N hasn’t spoken to you all day.” Neelam handed Jack a bowl of fruit and sat across from him. He munched on the fruit aggressively watching you from across the room, all he wanted to do was feel up on you and kiss up on you, but you were giving him the silent treatment and he hated it.

“I don’t know what I did, she isn’t talking to me at all and it’s been three days since she has.”

“Maybe go up to her and ask what’s wrong?”

“You don’t think I tried that Neelam? She’s just so stubborn sometimes.”

“Well try again and this time be a bit nicer, that’s probably why she’s upset you know you’ve been a bit of a grouch lately.” Jack frowned, he has been a bit of an ass lately but he was just so stressed and overwhelmed with tour starting back up.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

“Uh oh here comes your man.” Ace pointed out, rolling your eyes you kept scrolling through your phone not bothering to look up. You knew Jack was standing in front you.

“Baby.”

Ace and Urban watched the two of you intensely waiting and watching to see what would happen.

“Baby please look at me.” Jack begged and you almost cracked.

“Ace please tell Jack that I said what does he want.”

“Y/N said what do you want man.” Jack was getting irritated each minute that went by, he loved you he did but he hated the silent treatment.

“She can’t tell me what herself?”

“Jack said why can’t you tell him that yourself?” Ace and Urban laughed watching the annoyed and irritated look on Jack’s face.

“Tell Jack I said I can’t tell him myself because I’m not talking to him obviously.” Rolling your eyes at your phone you huffed and kept scrolling through your phone so more.

“She said she can’t tell you because-.”

“I heard her loud and clear Ace thank you.” Jack snapped at Ace. Urban and Ace laughed before getting up and walking off giving Jack and You some much needed alone time.

“Baby please talk to me.” Jack squatted down in-front of you, he brought his hand underneath your chin making you look up at him.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been an ass to you these past few days baby that was never my intentions I’ve just been overwhelmed with tour starting back up that I took all my anger out on you and I’m sorry, please can you forgive me.” You thought about it for a second just to get under his skin a bit more, but looking at the sad and heartache in his eyes you couldn’t go a minute longer without talking to him.

“I forgive you Jack but the next time you start acting like that just know I won’t be forgiving you that easy.”

“Sounds like a deal with me baby.” He laughed and got up sitting next you, he pulled you by your waist and sat you on top of him, he wrapped your legs around his waist and you leaned into him.

“I missed you so much Jack.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you causing you to laugh and smack his chest.

“Stop doing that it’s so creepy.”

“I’m just curious to know how much you missed me.” He whispered in your ear before kissing your earlobe and making his way down your neck leaving small kisses as he did.

“I missed you so much Jack so damn much.” Moaning softly you forced Jack’s hands on your waisted and he started moving you back and forth on him slowly, he groaned feeling your heated core through his sweatpants.

“Uh you both are aware everyone is in here right?” Urban’s voice came from the other side of the room.

“So get out.” Jack told him and sure enough they did.

“You know what yeah let’s do that I don’t feel like witnessing a porno right now.”

Jack showed you in many ways than one that night on why giving him the silent treatment wasn’t really beneficial for you.

(Something I did when I was bored)

taglist

@hoodharlow @heavyhitterheaux

@lcandothisallday @moody4world

@minkookie95 @mortirolo @jackmans-poison

@jackharloww @nattinatalia

[gainingfiction]

Lifetime Supply: Chapter 3

(read chapter 2 by gainerstories here)

Ryan hung up the phone, more confused than ever. Somehow, after half an hour on the phone with Luke, he had another box on the way. He had called to ask why the last one was so big, but after a long chat and a survey, somehow the conversation ended with Luke telling Ryan that he would be sent a reward for all his feedback.

With a sigh, Ryan opened a package of snack cakes and got to work. He didn’t know how much of the stuff he could actually get through, but he definitely didn’t want it to go to waste. Besides, his judgment was already clouded by his cravings for the processed snacks.

Picking up his laptop, Ryan decided to tackle some homework. He had a major assignment due for one of his programming courses, and he had put it off for too long. It didn’t take long for Ryan to disappear into the work, tuning out the outside world as he focused on the code in front of him. Hours later, with just a few finishing touches left, Ryan heard a key turning in the front door and snapped out of his trance.

He was seated on the couch in just his boxers, his jeans discarded on the living room floor. The coffee table in front of him and the couch around him was littered with plastic wrappers from the snacks he had demolished. The front of his shirt was also covered in crumbs. Ryan shoved his computer aside and started pulling on his jeans. He got them over his butt, but Ahmed arrived before he could get the button closed.

“Hey, buddy,” Ahmed said, arching an eyebrow. He was sweating, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He glanced around the living room, “How was your afternoon?”

“Uh, productive, actually,” Ryan said. He abandoned his efforts to get his jeans closed, instead crossing his arms in front of him and trying to act casual. “I was just about to clean up.”

“Sounds good,” Ahmed said, as he made his way to the bathroom.

For the next few weeks, Ryan felt like he was snacking constantly. Whenever he was working, or sitting around the house, he had some sort of cookie, snack cake, or chip in his hands. He knew it was getting out of hand, but he was saving a fortune on groceries, and the stuff Adesco sent really was some of his favourite.

Ahmed also wasn’t discouraging Ryan’s snacking. If anything, he seemed to be taking Ryan’s point about bulking to heart, and made a habit of digging out the least-unhealthy snacks from Ryan’s box. Ryan didn’t mind, especially since Ahmed was more than willing to share his stoner friend’s excellent weed. For the two students, it was a mutually beneficial roommate relationship.

Naturally, it wasn’t long before the consequences of Ryan’s snacking started catching up with him. One Monday morning in the fall, after a particularly lazy and indulgent weekend, Ryan realized that his favourite pants were finally past closing. He knew there would be a problem, since getting them over his butt had been unusually difficult. Even once he managed, he just couldn’t get the button to reach. With a defeated sigh, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed to class. 

After struggling to keep his starter-belly covered in all his classes, Ryan decided it was time to do some shopping. He didn’t have much cash to drop on clothes, but he knew a few places that usually had good deals. Swallowing his pride, he headed into one of his favourite stores and picked out some jeans in the next size up.

Inside the fitting room, he took a hard look in the mirror. Ryan knew that his shirt was showing off his budding gut, but he hadn’t realized how thick his thighs and ass looked in his sweatpants. He was even filling those out. He wasn’t particularly tall, so there was no hiding the 15-ish (okay, maybe 20-ish) pounds he had already put on.

As Ryan slid the jeans over his thighs, he realized that one size up wouldn’t cut it. Sighing heavily, he removed the jeans and pulled on his own sweatpants. He grabbed a few pairs in the next size up, then a few stylish upsized shirts from the rack, and brought his purchase to the checkout.

The cashier glanced at Ryan’s overfilled t-shirt, but only smiled. Antoine, his nametag said. At around six feet, he had a good few inches on Ryan, and one of the store’s trendy shirts showed off his slender build. He swapped flirtatious eyes with Antoine as he paid for his clothes, and then Ryan was on his way.

After rewarding himself with a milkshake from the food court, he made his way home. With his jacket hiding his small gut, he found that the contents of his sweatpants were getting a few looks from guys on the bus. One guy didn’t even try to hide that he was checking out Ryan’s butt. By the time he reached his stop, Ryan regretted not getting another pair of sweats.

When he got to his house, he noticed a (thankfully somewhat smaller) package on the front step. Cursing under his breath as usual, but relieved that Ahmed hadn’t seen it, Ryan tucked the box under his arm and headed inside.

When he got to his room, the college senior in the undersized shirt set his box of junk food on the bed, ditching his shopping bag beside it. He used a key to cut the tape, and opened up the box. Thanks again for your feedback! said the notecard on the top.

The snacks were his absolute favourites. Ryan sighed. Luke had really been taking notes during that last call. He opened up a package of cookies and grabbed one. Deciding that Ahmed didn’t need to know about his unsuccessful call, Ryan dropped the box on the floor next to his bed. As he put away his new clothes, he took another cookie from the package on his dresser. 

When Ryan was finished unpacking his purchases, he lay back on his bed, browsing social media. He roiled with frustration when he saw a post from his ex, Jason, with his new boyfriend, in matchy yoga gear on some Italian mountain. We’re a natural team. Couldn’t imagine doing it without him! the caption read.

Ryan put his phone away with disgust. Stupid yoga asshole, he thought to himself. The breakup had not been that long ago. Leaning back into his pillows, Ryan reached into the box on the floor. He opened up a bag of chips, looking to push his feelings aside with salt and carbs.

As he swallowed his first mouthful, Ryan felt defiant. He would move on from Jason. Grabbing another handful of chips, he turned his thoughts to finding a new man.

[macravishedbymactavish]

I Don't Care if You're Contagious (David "Hesh" Walker x GN!Reader)

TW: Mentions of sickness (ie: flu), Hesh being the best boyfriend anyone could ask for

Blog HQ

Everything hurt, your head, throat, all the way down to your toes. TOES. You were fighting some bug that was going around and it knocked the metaphorical wind right out of you. Leaving you tired, sore, and grumpy.

You didn't realize how exhausted you truly were until you flopped onto the bed following your shower. The feeling of your body sinking into the fluffy covers, along with the loose sweatpants and stolen t-shirt (from your ever so loving boyfriend) made you reconsider your original plan. You took a lukewarm shower to try and break the fever, then you were going to eat something. Except in this moment sleep sounded much more tempting.

So that's what you did, an impromptu 3 hour nap that was interuppted by your phone ringing beside you.

With a soft groan you flipped the device over to see who disrupted this much needed nap. Your attitude quickly changed when you saw the contact ID.

Hash Brown ❤️

"Hey" you stifled a yawn, rolling over in the bed. Grimacing at the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin. Another shower was being added to plan for your afternoon.

"You're finally awake, or alive!" You heard your boyfriend chuckle, "I have a favour to ask".

"What?" You whined, still wanting nothing more than to roll back over and continue sleeping. Eyes still heavy, body stiff, and you were still low on energy. At least you didn't feel quite as awful when your body was in temporary death, power saving mode.

"One of the packages I ordered just got delivered, but I'm still on base for another few hours. Can you grab it from the deck? It's not going to last outside for that long." It was a valid request, even if you despised the idea of moving in this moment.

"Fine" you mumbled, forcing yourself up from the bed with a groan. Every muscle screaming in protest. "You're lucky I love you David" you teased, padding downstairs to the front door.

"Pulling out my full name, ouch" he laughed, feeling bad that he wasn't home to help take care of you. Considering you cuddling him while he was sick a week ago is probably the reason you feel so awful right now. In his defense however, you did say (and he quotes) I don't care if you're contagious. I'm loving up on you.

"I promise this favour is mutually beneficial". You rubbed at your eyes with one hand as you unlocked the front door.

You looked down to see a take out bag and cup from your favorite resturaunt. A large smile broke out across your face as you brought the food inside.

"You ordered food?" You put the phone on speaker as you opened the bag, finding your go-to order inside.

"I ordered you food, yes. Since I'm not home to make you anything while you're sick." You could've cried, wondering how you get to call the most thoughtful human on this planet yours.

"Thank you love" you whispered, maneuvering your lunch over to the couch so you could eat and binge movies for the afternoon.

"Anything for you" he quickly responded, as if your heart wasn't already putty in his hands. "I've got to get back to work, but I'll love up on you tonight. I love you!" You returned the words, happily digging into the food after the call ended.

This man was without a doubt your soul mate.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @ai-luni

[bunting27]

can i request 'you look good with my hands around your throat' from the suggestive prompt list for Bunts?

photoshoot ✏︎ m. bunting

bunting27's 100 follower celly !

a/n: i got slightly carried away w the plot for this one

prompts: “you look good with my hands around your throat"

wc: 1.1k

taglist: @nylwnder @kenanlotus0 @sidcrosbyspuck

✏︎

michael had been her best friend since they were in high school, that’s why the first (second, actually) thing she did when she found proof she’d been cheated on was show up at his doorstep layered in clothes she’d taken from him throughout the years, accompanied with a bag full of ben and jerry’s pints.

“i don’t even know why i stayed with him, it’s not like he was beneficial at all” she mumbled, curled up under michael’s arm with a spoonful of ice cream ready to eat as soon as she was done talking.

michael chuckled at that, taking his own mouthful and hitting play on his tv before responding to her.

“fuck is that supposed to mean” he asked with his mouth half full, eyes wide and curious.

“i don’t think i’ve had a satisfying orgasm thanks to anyone but myself sicne, like.. you, actually. when you came back to toronto and we got wasted” michael grimaced, thinking back on the night and how long it had been since then. 

she’d been dating the guy for over a year and not one good time? 

“that’s pathetic. i don’t think i’ve left a girl hanging like that since high school” she hummed in agreement, and then a small smirk took over her lips as she swallowed her last bite of ice cream and looked at him.

her eyes had a glint of mischief, the same kind that he saw the first time they’d met, the same kind as when she’d managed to help their friend group sneak captain morgan’s into their prom, and the same one she had when they got drunk and fucked each other.

“oh, god. i know that look. it’s like your own twisted version of a light bulb” she giggled at that, pausing the movie and moving their containers of ice cream to the side.

“how about we take some pictures to piss him off a little” michael raised an eyebrow, considering it, but he knew that wasn’t feasible now with his job and how public his life could be sometimes.

“not anything that would have you trending, relax. your face won’t be in it, just your hands” he sighed and rolled his eyes, making her squeal and smile, knowing that he was going to agree. when he confirmed that for her, she hugged onto him tightly, thanking him excitedly as he chuckled.

“if i get in shit for this i’m kicking you off my doordash account and all of my streaming shit, mark my words” she gasped sarcastically 

“you woudlnt” he smiled, shaking his head at her and leaning her onto her back with her head over the side of his couch.

“where’d you want me, vengeance,” she rolled her eyes at the nickname, taking off the hoodie she’d taken from michael and adjusting her sweatpants so her panties could be seen on her hips. his eyebrows went up.

“you wore a matching set to come watch movies with me?” she scoffed, pulling her hair out from behind her shoulders and adjusting her front layers.

“no, i wore a matching set to go get fucked in a bar. but i thought ice cream might treat me better than shots when i wake up tomorrow” he hummed, moving so he was hovered over her thighs and facing her.

she grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, and he took it upon himself to hook his thumbs under her panties. she took a couple photos, then moved him up to her waist. he squeezed, giggling as she took more photos. 

this hadn’t been the first time he helped her with pissing off an ex, and he hoped it wouldn’t be the last. he got to spend time with her, she was single again and she was half naked in his living room? a win for everybody 

“you wanna take my bra off? we can leave it on” he shrugged, keeping one hand on her waist and configuring the other one so he could unclasp her bra, since this one had been a front clasp.

he waited until she adjusted her phone camera before snapping the magnets apart and letting the bra fall. he kept an eye on her phone to make sure it captured him brushing off the straps from her shoulders and her back arching to let him pull it out from under her.

she took his hands again, placing them on her chest and he squeezed, then she moved him again, this time to her neck. he gulped slightly, watching as she let her lips part and made it look like she had been moaning for him.

“let me get in the next one” he mumbled, staring down at her with his hands still squeezed around her neck gently.

she furrowed her eyebrows “you sure?”

he licked his lips, nodding slightly. he could have grabbed her chest a thousand more times and it wouldn’t have affected him as much as this did. he didn’t understand, and honestly he didn’t want to, but this was hot in ways he couldn’t describe. 

she hummed contently and moved his hands from her, telling him to sit back and then seating herself on his thigh, facing the same direction as he was. she nodded so he would bring his hand back to her throat and then looked up at him, letting an innocent look take over her face as they stared at each other for the picture.

she then casually moved herself off him and pulled his hoodie back on, smiling and kissing him on the cheek.

“thanks, mikey. i owe you one. wanna see them?” he ruffled her hair and nodded, trying to pretend like he wasn’t unreasonably worked up from their little shoot.

she leaned her head on his shoulder and started scrolling though the pictures, selecting which ones would be sent to her ex and which ones she would delete.

when she got to the ones with his hands on her throat, she heard his breath hitch and she smirked to herself.

“maybe we keep this one for just us two?” she mumbled, pushing her nose into his jaw and moving his attention to the one she’d taken with his face in it.

he nodded, watching as she sent it to him and then sent off the rest of her favourites to the other guy. he’d never liked him, he never really liked any of them, actually. it was selfish and shitty of him to say, but this was his favourite part of each of her relationships - the end.

when his phone buzzed, he pulled it out to look at the image again and he sighed.

“fuck, you look good with my hands around your throat” she smiled up at him, moving back towards his lap.

“maybe i will get fucked tonight, just not in a bar”

[activewearmanufacturer]

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[alwaysshallow]

single mom x price; PART 3

where john, for the first time, enters your house. and, pushes the boundaries.

AO3 VERSION

part 1 || part 2 || part 4

It’s impossible to avoid him.

Not like you try to do it, not after the amazing fiasco with your car, not after having to face him about parking somewhere different. It would be not only stupid, but also weird considering that he seems like a… really good man. You don’t have anything against him.

On the road, you decide that since you’re a big girl, you shouldn’t be that opposed to the idea of meeting from time to time with him. It’s just a neighbor-neighbor relationship, nothing more, nothing less. Not like you automatically offer yourself to him by just being nice. 

And, friendship with him can be beneficial, as he’s known as a local handyman. 

Like he’d actually read your thoughts, he’s right there when you come back from your son’s school. This time, not half-naked—you think about it with a weird dose of disappointment, like you’d prefer him more without clothes—but in sweatpants and a matching hoodie, coffee in hand. Two, to be more precise, fairly cute with heart imprints on them.

“Coffee for the trouble,” he says, handing you a warm cup. Smile on his lips, the brightest it can be, so you don’t even think before taking a sip. “I hope I’m not a complete jackass in your eyes?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Jackass?”

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. Almost shy; you don’t know him, so you assume he is somehow. What you do not know; he’s more like a dog that pretends to be shy after he did something bad. Making you draw attention towards him.  “Acted like that, maybe.”

The sincere concern in his voice is cute. “No, it’s… you had no idea after all, right? You didn’t know it was my car that you’re blocking, could be anyone’s.” 

He just hums at that, acknowledging your response. You stay with him outside for a few more minutes, then leave with a vague explanation of what you need to do inside. And, you promise to see him tomorrow, if you’re lucky.

A mistake. It just encourages him more and more.

He starts bringing you coffee after this morning. Makes a ritual out of it, bringing you always the same coffee that made the best impression on you with the taste and freshness. He asks, too—if you need something different, if you need something a bit more fancy. Brags about his coffee machine and finally making the use of it, if you want.

You don’t see how his eyes glimmer when you say, “the simplest is the best”.

Price’s a good company. Cracking jokes, chatting, telling you just a little about himself, making you more curious with every meeting. 

Always so close to you. You think you know every little wrinkle by now, how his eyes crinkle in the corners when he laughs, when he smiles. Small mannerisms that make you soften, wonder what a guy like him was doing in the military.

Naive thought. Everyone has a mask.

The two of you always drink coffee outside. He’s respectful enough to not enter your house or ask about it, probably thinking that he’s gonna pry. You’re always somewhere around the mailbox, your car or you invite him on a bench near your house, closer every day to the inside. 

He’s always outside, but seems like he wants to go inside. You catch his glances over your shoulder as he towers over you, leaning over your fence or when he looks back at the house. Longing stare, like he wants something from here, a part of your life that he could have, a part of the life that he might understand better when he’s gonna enter the house. But, he doesn’t ask.

Yet. You feel like he’s gonna do it in the near future, as he gets tired of just being in front of your house where nothing happens for outsiders.

You learn over days that he’s there and he’s not going anywhere. When you are back from your son’s school, he’s already there. Saying something about mowing your lawn and as you actually need it, you bite back the “I can handle that alone” argument. Maybe he’s just nice. Maybe it’s a chance for once to not do everything yourself, at least you think. 

He’s like a scent that sticks to you and no matter how you want to wash it off, to smell different, to smell like you again, you simply can’t. He makes everyone know that he’s around you and no one else is allowed to be whatsoever. Marks the territory: a dog that finally had his bone and doesn’t want to give it away, even if no one seems like they want to snatch it. 

People aren’t blind; they see how he lingers, a stain of coffee on your perfectly white tablecloth. Something that you can take care of, but it will be there, if you have a mug a bit cracked. If it will be coming back, just like he does. You don’t see anything wrong with that. Neither does he; you’re a couple of friends—

He has no desire to stay away these days. Denise from the store asks you about that; softly, afraid to scare you, like you are some kind of untamed animal or someone like that. Fragile.

She brings it up over a dinner invitation, asking if she has to bring one more plate than usual; it’s innocent question and you don’t catch the double meaning in her words when you say, “Only me and my boy.”

She nods. A few seconds of silence pass between you two and you know for a fact there’s something in this silence. Something that you don’t quite enjoy because it’s gonna hit your personal life, so carefully hidden beneath all of the layers. “No John?” she peeks at you.

You stop in your tracks to look at her. Confused what your neighbor has to do with a friend's dinner that he didn’t belong to earlier on. Maybe you missed a chapter? He doesn’t even talk with Denise. “Why John would…”

“...you are spending a lot of time together. Figured it’s only right to ask, y’know. But no worries!” She says it, almost in a hurry, like you would scold her for even thinking about it. Before you have a chance to ask further, she says goodbye and you’re left with your own thoughts. 

Is it that visible to the others? Are you gonna be invited to the things together now, like you’re some kind of pack? Do you act like there’s something more to it? Maybe it is, maybe you just don’t see it yet. Maybe you don’t want to see it because you’re scared of what you’re gonna see.

A mess that he comes with. A mess that he wants to hide too. He can’t let himself scare you, not yet—

Who actually knows. You don’t even know it.

Your kid also likes Price. Seeing him before school, after school when he’s outside. Eager to go and talk to him, but limiting himself to only wave towards him, at which John gives him the biggest smile ever and waves too. Small talk there and there, little steps towards inevitable—an ask from your kid if he’s ever gonna come and play with him.

He says one day something about other boys and them getting to play with their dads, so he could play as well with Price, your friend. You pretend that it doesn’t hurt you deep, so you just smile awkwardly, saying something about asking John about it someday. Sooner than later because you just can’t erase the sound of your son, sounding disappointed when he said what he said.

The routine continues and extends to some point. Price tiptoes around you, slowly breaking the barriers you set for yourself. Helps you plant flowers “because it’s only right”, takes care of your garden with you when it gets too tiring or when your son yells for you and John says that, “you can’t let the little one down, can you?”. Reminds you of a garden competition that you forgot about, when you ask why he is still here.

He’s around a lot more, but still outside. 

A small significance about this detail doesn’t occur to you yet.

The perfect picture has to crack at some point; and unfortunately it does in the worst time that it could—on a completely random day. The moment you start your car to pick up your son from his school, the car makes weird noises. Nothing ignites the way it should, no matter how many times you turn your key, no matter if you even try to push harder. You even look up a random youtube video tutorial, but it doesn’t make a difference. It won’t start anyway.

And, just like that, you attract the audience—John Price himself—who shouts something to you. You try to ignore him, as you don’t have time for him right now, but he’s persistent, watching you as you hit the gas pedal; and it’s completely useless considering your car doesn't even start.

“Tryin’ to hit me with the car this time?” he taunts, giving you that perfect smile he always has when he tries to make you smile too. This time it doesn’t work, maybe makes you even more miserable in the whole situation. 

You manage to give him a weak smile though. Forced one, while you try to get your car to start, even more encouraged right now to get it started; you don’t want help, you don’t want him to notice how much you struggle right now. And it would happen again, like he’s a magnet for bad things happening to you, so he could swoop in and play the hero.

Which, of course, sounds absurd.

Much to your dismay, he opens the door quickly, a considerate smile on his lips. “C’mon, sweetheart. What’s happening there?”

“My car isn’t starting. As you see,” you add, a little bit aggressive; maybe too aggressive, as you see how his eyebrows furrow. You can’t do anything about your tone, even if you somehow want to, as you feel too helpless and pent up. Like you’re losing control. “Listen, John. I swear to God, I don’t have time—”

“No need for attitude, love.”

The sudden comment makes you gulp. Maybe you might have added too much attitude, maybe reacted too aggressive and he’s way too sweet to deserve it, but it’s not the worst thing to worry about right this second. "I— God, I’m sorry, but my kid ends the class in ten minutes, I just can’t—" you sigh, massaging your temples. It’s like nothing you’re going to say will be right and not considered straight up rude.

He takes a second before answering. "We'll take care of everything," he tells you. That word—we—makes you giddy. The way he says it, so firmly, not leaving even a pole of a discussion for you. “Gonna drive you here, then look at your car.”

You bite your lip, conflicted. “You probably have better things to do. I can just borrow your car, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“You thought I’d let you drive like this? Nervous? ‘m not the man.”

The sentence itself makes you embarrassed. Weird, bad on the stomach that you actually thought like this. “I’m not—”

“—Get in the car.”

You don’t even try to argue anymore, so you just nod. Without any further question, you follow him to his pick up truck, sitting on the passenger's seat, while your knight in the shiny armor picks the country song to play along the way. 

You don’t miss how happy your kid looks when you pick him up with John. It’s not a very different reaction from the times you pick him up alone, but right now? Right now you see the sparkle in his eyes. The actual excitement, how he’s not usually tired as he is, telling you what he learned today with a half-lidded eyes, when you automatically feel bad for engaging in a discussion with him. No.

He’s practically getting out of his seat to be closer to Price, you have to remind him that he needs to be still so he’s gonna be safe. He tells him all about his school, what teachers teach him, what his favorite activity is, getting even more excited when John acknowledges what he said. Your son is practically in heaven when he asks him questions, he answers them all with a big smile on his lips, showing his front teeth. He’s not used to a man figure being around, not used to someone else than you, his grandma or your best friend.

John stops for ice cream, first in the season. You’re opposed to that idea, trying to explain to him that’s probably way too cold for that, but all it takes is his one hand on your cheek. Big, covering practically the half of your face, like he’s telling you, without opening his mouth, that he knows what he’s doing. He asks, his voice low, if you can make an exception for him. Because it’s the first time you’re here with him and your boy. Because he wants to make him feel special. Weirdly overwhelmed, but also feather-like, you agree. 

You never let your kid eat ice cream before it gets warmer. 

He doesn’t let you pay; he’s faster with his credit card, flashing you a smile, when you squirm about being so kind to you two. Price waves his hand at that, like the idea of being too kind isn’t an option.

You decide to eat outside, near the fountain in the park; better than doing it in the car, more bonding as Price said. Your son continues the blabber about his school with John, who gets quiet after the little man tells him that he told his friends about him, how he built a treehouse just for him the other day. Like it wasn’t enough, he mentions them being jealous of a “such a cool dad”. You know that the word is accidental, innocent as the kid doesn’t really have a dad, a father figure like John and when he’s here, it seems… inevitable to call him like that. 

You’re a bit afraid that the information might overwhelm him, even if you personally don’t see it as a deep comment, especially from the child. John is funny, likes to spend his time around you two, but it might feel like a commitment or some sort.

But then you notice a weird look in his eyes. Primal, beaming with pride, almost like it’s the moment that he can officially claim him as his. It’s ridiculous to be proud of something like that, so you take that thought away, listening to John say something about “making another treehouse together” and spending time with his friends, taking them to ice cream, if he would want to.

Almost like a son with his father, really. It’s maybe ridiculous, but…

But. But. But. 

Sometimes you think that they are similar. It’s not about the looks—maybe a bit, considering that your son has just as blue eyes as Price, and a smile that could steal a million stars—but about mannerisms. Without even thinking, he picks up certain behavior, a hand on a hip when he’s not really pleased with something or scratching his jaw and slightly tapping his chin if he’s thinking. 

Simple, didn’t catch your eye at first, but it hit you when you have a certain comparison.

John is back the same day. Standing right in front of you at your porch with his famous toolbox that you have seen around many times; before you even get to ask him why is he here, he explains, “can’t leave you like this. Would be wrong,” and you automatically feel your knees weaken. 

Seems like you can’t get rid of him this easily right now.

First steps into your house are slow. You don’t really pay attention to this, but John takes a good look around, observing like a hawk what you have. The pictures of you and your son are practically everywhere, there’s a little mess in the living room, showing that you indeed have a kid—he notes everything in his mind. 

And he notes how much of attention to detail you have, yet, still hasn't said anything about him being so curious. 

Like an omen, the cupboard you repaired a while ago, falls down to the floor. Thank God there was nothing inside.

“Seems like it will need my hand too,” he says, looking at you. There’s concern in his eyes, but also a weird gleam, like the prospect of spending more time here is actually exciting for him. “Gonna be here for a while, eh? Coulda told me sooner, love, ‘bout this shit.”

“Yeah. It… needs to be fixed, but I thought I’d… take care of it,” you murmur, bashful. The feeling that you know a little too well around John Price; that monstrous man who probably would’ve killed you barehanded. At the same time, he’s the nicest man. Seems like the nicest man at least; that’s what your local research told you. Behind it all, he is…perfect.

Maybe that’s why you don’t want to believe that he wants to be around you without any hidden meanings behind it.

He stops in your garage. “S’not trouble at all, sweetheart.” He leans down a little, his eyes locked on yours. You don’t even notice how his hand is dangerously close to your face, fingers playing with a loose strand from your bun, made a little hastily before he even came here. “Let me do everything. Take care of you. And you do your thing, I’ll be here.”

You frown. Maybe it’s not the worst idea to leave him be, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel right—leaving him in your garage. “You’re completely sure you don’t need help? I mean, I can take care of—”

“—I’ve got you, mama. Do your thing,” he whispers out. Sweet and affectionate. Giving you the sense of comfort, reassurance that he’s perfectly capable of whatever he’s gonna do with your car right now. “You wanted to make something for a little man, then do it.”

“Okay,” you say, your tone low too. His smile reaches his eyes now, as he kisses your temple, then, like it’s nothing, moves under the machine. You look at him dumbstruck, like someone hit you a moment before with a baseball bat. 

Normally, you’d say something about it. How inappropriate it is, how you’re not even close, not to mention that you’re not his to be treated like that, but it’s John that you think about. A man that’s kind enough to repair your car, so you just back out to your house, throat tight, fingers clutching at the end of your hoodie. 

Even if it seems inappropriate, you can’t say that it’s not nice—because it is. The thought of someone taking care of you, giving it all in bigger and smaller gestures. Making everything seem so easy with him, easier than doing it alone.

And you’re used to doing things alone, so maybe that’s why it’s kind of hard to get used to his presence.

Thoughts flow by, when you make chocolate muffins. Your kid’s favorite—and what you learn after, John’s favorite too. He eats them as eagerly as your six year old, who is dirty with chocolate all over his face. You make a mental note to make them less moist later, so you’re not gonna be occupied with cleaning in the future.

Price licks the surfeit of chocolate off his fingers when he’s done. Slowly, taking his time to do it right. You think you might go insane when he holds your gaze the entire process, the corner of his lips twitching. Something in your head tells you that he gets off on it, to the thought of how shy you are if it’s coming down to him, to his actions, but you try to not to think about it. Desperately.

Significant word, try.

It feels like a crime, when you sit to your laptop right after your kid is asleep. Curiosity kills the cat, but you forget about this when you type in “John Price” in your browser, a glass of wine on your coffee table, next to the lamp that your grandma gave you. She would encourage your behavior, you can’t help but think.

Something in you whispers that it’s a right idea, he’s not telling enough about himself to let you be around him so much. Not to let him act like you’re so close that neighbors already are talking about being a “thing”. Besides, it’s not only you here. Your kid likes him too, a tad too much for your liking to ignore the case and not check basic info.

For a few minutes, there’s nothing—or, too much, as there’s multiple John Price’s on the internet. Narrowing your searches, you add simple “military” to it, hoping for a miracle, something that will tell you anything about him. No matter if it’s gonna be bad or good, but the ache in your heart tells you that you’d want it to be good.

There is some information about him, but they’re mostly… a state of fact. Articles about successful missions, hostages alive. A bunch of articles praising him by the mayor of the town that the whole action happened at, interviews how he brings good everywhere he is. Multiple operations, even more praises for whatever he’s doing. Golden boy, made to shine.

Aside from the military, man doesn’t exist. No relatives, no social media that could tell you a scrap of his personality. If he likes cats or dogs better, if he’s divorced, if he has a family that he abandoned, or maybe close friends that he lost along the way. Walking mystery he is, or maybe a perfection. He can be everything he wants to be, and you won’t tell the difference between his past and the person he is now. You have no reference point.

Incredulous, you fidget with the hem of your t-shirt, thinking. No one is perfect, everyone has their demons, small or big, but everyone has them, the past that they’d like to forget in order to live without heaviness in their hearts. You have things you’d like to forget, a thing that haunts you every time you think about it; one of them is your son’s biological father, but you decide not to think about it further. There’s better things to think of that son of a bitch.

He saw things, you don’t need to be an alpha and omega to know that. Bad things; things that you probably won’t ever see, if you’re lucky, but this shit sits in his head, of course. Only him and God knows how many people he lost, how many he buried along the way, how many he killed. 

It makes the difference who he was before.

You can’t have someone that you don’t know very well around the kid, you repeat to yourself, as you close the laptop. You can’t have someone who could be a potential danger. You want peace and quiet in your own home, men already disappointed you enough, including the biological father of your kid, you don’t need to have another one on your list.

Yet, you want him around somehow. He keeps the bad things away, he makes things better, he takes the worries away, just like he did with the car.

You just need to… find more information on John Price. Take some distance, maybe, and think about all of it twice.

[thisblogisboundforglory-blog]

#11 - She's Come to See a Man About a Dog

No Red Lobster will serve the dreadlocked man, not even after he's had a nice bath in the aquariums at the Forum shops, been stuffed into a new set of sweatpants and a clean tee shirt, had a nice day-long nap -- not even when accompanied by his clergyman.

 There's something disconcerting about the pointed teeth. 

For that matter, there's something disconcerting about the clergyman. People are uncomfortable when they can't readily identify someone's race. Sporkman can pass for Melanesian in poor lighting and well-traveled company. But The Missionary keeps strobing back and forth from unusually robust and dark Southeast Asian to light-skinned American Black. It causes heebee-jeebies in a certain kind of person. So both men are defaulted to black, and weird, and undesirable. It's metaphysically easier that way. 

Here's the timeline:

Wee hours of the morning – The Missionary retrieves Sporkman from a traumatized private security guard named Joseph

The rest of the morning – Finding clothing that Sporkman will consent to wear. Napping.

Noonish to mid-afternoon – Taking Sporkman out to eat, failing at this, bringing him back to the Mission and begging him to stay put

Mid-afternoon to early evening – Staring at the Mission’s bank balance. Praying.

Early evening to just before sunset – Going out to pick up Red Lobster for everyone after acquainting Big Hat with Mission rules and the certain consequences of breaking them

Sunset – Pulling his car into the alley/driveway of the Mission just as the classic Cadillac of an important donor miraculously finds an unoccupied length of curb directly in front of The Christ Died For You Thrift Shop and Tobacco Emporium.

She joins him at the Mission’s tiki-covered back door. His hands are full of Red Lobster takeout, with breads and salads and chicken and rice pilaf and oversteamed vegetables, plus all the seafood he could reasonably afford for -- he needs a name. The Missionary does not believe Jesus would persist in calling someone Sporkman, even in His own mind. 

The Lady opens the door for him.

Sporkman is standing right behind it, at attention, resolutely staying put to the minimum possible degree. Sporkman is occasionally stymied by the complex machinery of knobs and hinges.

"Hello, Triton," The Lady says to Sporkman

Okaaaaay.

Problem solved, then.

Triton smiles broadly at The Lady, showing all his remaining pointy teeth, and executes a low bow. She winks at him in return.

Big Hat is bedded down with blankets and a length of foam upholstery cushion for a mattress. He accepts his paper bag of Red Lobster food with sullen dignity. His perfectly good dog haunch is locked up in the preacher's extra-large freezer until the preacher can figure out how to dispose of such a thing. He would not listen to any of Big Hat's logical explanations of how a fresh cut of meat might be beneficially disposed. 

Big Hat removes the plastic lid from the styrofoam container of broccoli and prods it with a calloused finger. He sniffs at it. He carefully replaces the plastic lid and slides the styrofoam container toward the ring of styrofoam containers that Triton has arrayed in a semicircle on the floor about him.

"You two know each other?" The Missionary asks The Lady. He appears to be taking inventory of the spork supply that came with the food, wholly absorbed in harvesting the napkins and moist towelettes, then storing the utensils in the former hostess station that now serves as his pulpit lectern.

"That is the least convincing casual question you've ever asked me," she answers.

He shrugs. Raises one eyebrow. Unpacks the food with all the solemnity of ritual. "Professional acquaintance?" He asks.

She folds her arms and snorts at him. 

He reaches the bottom of the last take-out bag and retrieves the receipt, reads it, winces, and carefully folds it so he can tuck it into his wallet. 

She keeps her arms folded, but her posture shifts into something less -- he searches for the right word -- performative, maybe? Something more real. More human. "You have your reasons for take-out Red Lobster, and they are none of my business," she tells him. Her voice is pitched low. These words are for him, not the rest of the party. "Some things, I just have to take on faith."

He nods, once. 

"But do you need something extra this month?" She asks.

"We're okay," he says, too quickly. Then he straightens up and meets her eye. "We are," he says again, more sincerely. His slow, stolid, serene, stubborn silence restores some balance to the power in the room. 

Besides, she never really tells him what to do. Her monthly contribution comes with no strings. Sometimes, it comes with advice, which he is free to take or ignore.

He always takes it, because it is always good advice.

“What do you do?” The Missionary finally asks, as if this had never occurred to him. In truth, it has. But the sorts of things ladies might do to become one of this Lady’s crowd are things that may lead down roads one must tread very, very carefully. Confessions, if they need to come, generally come at a time and place of their own choosing. 

He expects a charming deflection.

“I’m a retired schoolteacher,” she says, simply. Then she returns the incredulous looks she is receiving with a slightly mocking twist of her lips. “I know,” she adds, with rising inflection, “It’s always so disappointing. I hate to disappoint people. You have so much fun with the speculation.”

The unexpected answer is so pat and skillfully given that the Missionary knows it is, in its own way, the charming deflection he expected.

She scowls at him. "Isn't it against some sort of evangelical code to turn down money?" 

This time he snorts at her. But all he says is, "Are you hungry?"

"No, thank you," she answers, "You go ahead, though. I just dropped in to borrow a cup of dismembered coyote ass. Do you have any you can spare?"

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

scum of the earth

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Naoya Zen'in x chubby fem reader ɞ

Part 1 ♥︎ Part 2 ♥︎ Part 3 ♥︎ Part 4 ♥︎ Part 5

❥ Word Count: 6.2k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, friends with benefits, daddy kink, suggestive stuff, misogyny, sexism, bullying, fatphobia, a bit of angst/hurt at the end

❥ A/N: heyyyy. So ummm part 2 got so long that i have to split it up so in will actually post on tumblr sksksk so now you get four parts instead of three! Congrats sksksk. If the ending seems a bit off it's bc this part wasn't supposed to end there, so ig you could say there's a cliffhanger? ALSO, the first section is supposed to take place in the past, which is why the quotations are italicized. Hope that's clear! Anyways enjoy 💕

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon princess, don’t be like that—”

“No, Naoya, that sounds like a horrible idea.”

That’s how it’d started. You were minding your business as usual, getting your mail when a disgustingly familiar face showed up and started bothering you. You had done your best to avoid Naoya since that night, ducking behind corners when he came around and scoping out the scene before you dashed out of your apartment and past his. You were bound to run into each other, being neighbors and all, but you hoped that you would’ve been able to avoid him for longer than a week.

“You’re avoiding me,” he had accused. He was right, but you still didn’t want to admit it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. The innocent act doesn’t suit you.”

You’d expected him to bully you, to pull out all the stops in order to make your veins bulge with rage. You didn’t expect him to flirt. You definitely didn’t expect him to suggest being friends with benefits.

“What?”

“C’mon, you heard me. I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

“Fuck no.”

“At least think about it—”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon princess…”

He’d followed you up the stairs, listing off all the pros to his awful proposition. You’d tried to ignore him, truly, but he was like a mosquito you couldn’t shake off or smack dead. You didn’t take what he said seriously until he blocked your path to your apartment.

“You’re really not going to give it a thought?”

“No, Naoya. I’d rather die than be your fuck buddy.”

“Funny, you didn’t seem to feel the same last week—”

“Oh, fuck off—”

“Come oooooooon,” he’d whined, caging you in against the wall, keeping an arm up so you couldn’t run away and lock yourself into your home. “You can’t deny that it felt good. Didn’t even take ten minutes to make you cum twice.”

“You say that as if you didn’t cum right after.”

“So what? Still made you cum before me.”

You wanted to punch him, wanted to wipe that stupid smirk right off his face. How dare he act so smug about a one night stand? All he’d done was get his dick wet and yet he acted like he hung the stars in the sky. Fucking asshole.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“You were full of me too.”

God¸ he was awful, so fucking arrogant and annoying, with his stupid straight teeth and snarky smile and dirty blonde hair. Did he dye it or was the two-toned hairstyle natural? It looked too soft to be bleached. And did his brown eyes always bore into you like that, like he was digging for some long lost treasure?

“And how many women do you have this kind of relationship with?”

“None, technically.” He’d leaned against the wall, one hand tucked in his sweatpants while the other brushed his knuckles against the wall, inches away from your side. “I don’t usually fuck the same pussy twice.”

“Oh wooow, I feel so special,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away. He clicked his tongue, slipping closer to you, sneaking his hand to your lower back.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be so cold to me.” He dipped down towards your neck, breath fanning your ear as he began rubbing circles into your back. “You should be flattered. It’s not every day that I pursue a woman.”

“Yeah, especially a fat woman, right?”

“So feisty,” he breathed, nosing at your neck, lips brushing against you. “Here I am, trying to be all sweet and nice, and you treat me like this? Such a mean girl. I outta teach you a lesson.” You scoffed, pushing him off and putting some distance between you.

“I’m not falling for this ‘sweet and nice’ act you’re putting on. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been an asshole to me since the day we met. I haven’t forgotten how you’ve treated me.” Naoya hummed, following you as you moved around him to get to your apartment.

“Well, how ‘bout I make it up to you, princess? Hm? Make you feel so good you forget about all the mean things I’ve ever done to you?”

“Do you ever shut up?” you asked rhetorically, pulling out your keys to unlock your door. Naoya snatched yours keys up, holding them over your head. “Hey!”

“Just one night, okay? Just to test the waters. If you hate it, fine, we can go back to being shitty to each other. But I think we could both have a lot of fun if you just gave it a chance.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re kinda cute when you’re mad. What’s your point?”

Your cheeks burned, body heating up at his compliment. God, you really hated him. Why did someone so annoying have to be so handsome? Why couldn’t you have attracted some skinny white guy instead, someone nonthreatening who actually treated you right? Why’d you have to attract the rich piss boy next door?

“Why do you wanna fuck me so bad, huh? You can’t find any other poor girl who’s insecure enough to open her legs for you?” He shrugged, leaning against your door, swinging your keys around his finger.

“You may be the exact opposite of what I’m looking for in a woman, but you’ve got a great pussy.”

“Wow, what a compliment.”

“Hey, you asked. Can’t blame me for being honest. It’s not my fault you were leaking like a goddamn faucet—”

Your hand had slammed on his mouth, shutting him up as you heard footsteps approaching. The two of you stayed still, waiting until the person passed your floor and continued onward. You let out the breath you were holding, releasing Naoya and glaring at him when he snickered.

“Look, just give me my keys and—”

“Not until you say ‘yes’.”

“Oh my God, Naoya! Why the fuck would I agree to something like this? You treat me like shit and expect me to just take it without complaints. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

You weren’t sure if it was just your mind playing with you, but you could’ve sworn that you saw his narcissistic façade falter that day. You didn’t have time to process if you were correct or not when his sneer came back to life.

“Jesus, you’ve made your point. I’m an asshole, absolute trash, scum of the Earth, blah blah blah. You wouldn’t fuck me again if I was the last person on the planet; I get it. So do you wanna have sex or should I go back to bullying you for entertainment?”

You blinked, eyes narrowing at his choice of words.

“… Are you saying you won’t bully me if we start fucking each other regularly?” Naoya shrugged.

“Sure. I’d get a lot more out of fucking you than making fun of you.”

Your body relaxed slightly, the prospect of your nightmare of a neighbor finally leaving you be settling in. If he kept his word and didn’t bully you anymore, then even the thought of fucking him didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth. He was handsome (unfortunately), and he was good enough in bed that you would choose him over your toys. Maybe if he shut his mouth, you could even imagine he was someone else—

Your keys were dangled in your face, jingling quickly. You blinked, looking up to meet Naoya’s confident gaze.

“Well? What’s it gonna be, pretty girl?”

“Oh fuck… t-touch my clit, please—”

Naoya groaned behind you, but not in the way he had been for the past ten minutes.

“God, seriously? Why can’t you just do it yourself? I’m kinda busy here.” You huffed, looking over your shoulder and glaring back at him.

“Naoya, I will leave this apartment and never fuck you again if you don’t put in a little more effort here.” Naoya rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated groan.

“God. Fine, but don’t complain about being sore later.”

“Fine, whatever, just touch me already.”

You could hear Naoya huff behind you—whether it was in a humorous or annoyed way, you couldn’t tell—his chest pressing against your back, his arm curling around you. He palmed your mound, squeezing the excess flesh before slipping his fingers between your chubby lips, targeting your clit. You mewled at the added pressure, arching your back further, pushing your ass back into his hips. He chuckled behind you, tucking his chin into your neck.

“There she is. There’s the sweet girl I know.”

“Just shut up and make me cum.”

“Yeah, yeah, quit whining. I’ve got ya.” His hips shifted forward before he pulled them back, thrusting back into you. You whined at the newfound pace, lowering yourself to your elbows so you could push yourself back into him easier. The friction on your clit felt wonderful, as well as the constant rubbing against your g-spot, your climax growing with each passing moment.

You hated to admit it, but you actually enjoyed having sex with Naoya. Obviously he was still the same asshole as before, but god damn it, he sure knew how to curl his hips to hit that delicious spot deep inside you. He had actually kept his promise the past month as well, avoiding any and all harsh words that he carelessly hurled at you in the past. Sometimes, in the throughs of your orgasm and blinding passion, you actually felt content with this whole stupid arrangement. That is, you were until Naoya opened his big fat mouth again.

“Gonna cum, princess? Hm? Gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock?” You made a disgusted sound.

“Oh Lord, don’t fucking—shit—c-call yourself that.”

“Aww, you don’t like it? But you clenched down on me and everything.” He nibbled at your ear, his free hand finding your breast and squeezing, tugging your hardened nipple. “I think your pretty pussy likes when I call myself ‘Daddy’. At least she doesn’t lie to me.”

“God, just—just shut—o-oh my God, I… I’m gonna c-cum—”

“Fuck, yeah you are. Gonna cum with ya, baby.” His finger quickened, rubbing back and forth incessantly, trying his best to make you cum first. “Say my name, fucking scream it. Let everybody know who’s making you feel this good.”

You liked his dirty talk the least out of all of this, but it still did the trick to push you over the edge. His words made your cunt throb, and soon enough you were cumming around him, his name coming out as a strangled moan. His groans only heightened your pleasure, and the resulting increase in his speed left you breathless, your mouth hanging open in a soundless scream as he pounded away at your fragile cunt. He didn’t last much longer: not even ten seconds later he was cumming himself, biting onto the back of your neck. You would have to scold him later for leaving a mark.

Despite just cumming, Naoya still managed to pump his cock into you languidly, riding out his high and extending yours. He pushed his cock as deep as it would go, wishing he could feel his cum seeping further into you instead of filling the condom he wore. He kept his hips flush against yours as the two of you caught your breath, his hands wandering over your frame, squeezing the plush of your breasts and sides.

It wasn’t long before he removed himself from you, sitting up and grabbing your hips, pulling out. He sighed, watching a glob of thick white lubrication drip out of you, biting back a groan. He allowed himself, for a moment, to imagine that it was his own cum instead, overflowing your tight cunt, unable to stay inside. He didn’t think about this for long—the last thing he wanted was for his cock to twitch back to life. Instead, he plopped down on the bed beside you with a loud exhale, rolling off his condom before tossing it in the trash.

He turned to you when you moaned softly, finally lowering your hips to the bed and stretching out. He let his eyes wander over your curves, the dip in your back and the swell of your ass. You pulled a pillow to your chest, cuddling it underneath you and relaxing with a loud sigh. He hated to admit it, but you looked pretty cute with your chubby cheek smushed against his pillow, your hair disheveled and skin glowing with sweat. You opened your eye just a bit, your gaze immediately falling on him. He felt his skin burn when you pulled your arm out from under you, reaching out to him and patting the bed. He swallowed hard, eyes darting over you.

“What?... You wanna cuddle or something?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes before pointing past him.

“Gimme my phone.” Naoya flushed, reaching for your phone on his nightstand.

“Use your words next time. Can’t read your mind.”

“Well, you should by this point.” The corner of his lip twitched as he brought his hands behind his head, clasping them together before lying back down. He stared at the ceiling, hearing the gentle thumping of your thumbs tapping against your phone. He wondered if he should grab his own phone, distract himself for a while before you eventually left him. Should he try to cuddle you anyways? It would be easy to wrap his arms around you and keep you snug against him until he was satisfied or had drifted off to sleep. It’s not like you would complain for that long: eventually you would just huff and let him do whatever he pleased as long as he didn’t interrupt whatever you were doing on your phone—

“Oi,” you grunted as you shuffled closer to him, resting your cheek against his chest. “I’m gonna take a shower before I go.” Naoya furrowed his brow.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I’m not waddling back home with pussy juice dripping down my legs.” He hummed, his arm wrapping around you, large hand resting against your back.

“Why not? I think it would be a good look for you.” You slapped his chest playfully, earning a chuckle as you pushed down the urge to smile. He wrapped his other arm around you once he settled down again, smirking knowingly at you. “You know what I think? I think you just wanna shower here because you like my expensive body wash.” You kept silent, tucking your face into his chest, trying to hide your suspicious look as he started laughing again. “I knew it—”

“To be fair,” you started, holding up your index finger, “it smells really good.”

“Ah, so you think I smell good.”

“Noo, I think your body wash smells good. Those are two totally different things.” The two of you were both snickering now, smiles bright and apparent. It was always like this during the afterglow of your hookups: regardless if either of you had an attitude before the encounter, it would dissipate during the event and leave the two of you as sweet as honey. You’d seen parts of Naoya after sex that you didn’t even know existed. In all honesty, it was refreshing. The more you learned, the less you hated him. Still didn't make him a good person, but he was much more tolerable now, even nice at times.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll let you shower, but only if I can join.” You groaned, rolling off of him and scooting towards the edge of the bed.

“You just wanna join so you can fuck me again.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” he asked, following you to the bathroom, turning on the shower fan while you went to the faucet.

“I’ll let you join, but no funny business.”

“No funny business? None at all? What exactly does ‘funny business’ entail?” You felt his arms snake around your waist as you waited for the water to heat up, testing the temperature with your hand.

“It includes fucking, touching, groping—”

“I can’t even touch you?” he guffawed, pulling you tighter against him, pressing his cheek to your shoulder. “And here I was gonna offer to wash your back for you, be a real gentleman.” You snorted, letting out a howl of laughter.

“Please! You? A gentleman? Never gonna happen.” You stepped into the shower, presumably ending the conversation, but you kept the curtain open for him.

“Rude,” he replied, following after you. “I’m such a gentleman—”

“Mm-hm. Just not with me, right?”

“What’re you talkin about?” he cooed, watching you move under the stream, water trickling over your breasts. “I’m always a gentleman with you. I always get you nice and wet before I fuck you stupid.”

“Ooooh, okay, so a gentleman just does the basics to maintain a relationship. I get it now.” Naoya’s face flushed, heart skipping a beat as he stepped closer to you, meeting you under the shower head.

“Now who said we were in a relationship? You trynna tell me somethin, princess?” He hated how you rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, grabbing his loofah and body wash.

“Don’t get your hopes up. We have a sexual relationship, Naoya, nothing more.”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice,” he replied quickly, grabbing the loofah from you once it was covered in bubbles. “As if I’d ever want to be stuck with you.”

“Mm-hm. You gonna wash my back like you promised or what?”

He sighed, stepping towards you again. His eyes roamed your back as he brought the soap to your skin, rubbing it gently over your frame, pushing down the heavy feeling in his chest. He must just be thirsty. He couldn’t find any other explanation for the lump in his throat.

“What’re you smiling at?”

A hand clapped on Naoya’s back, causing him to lurch forward slightly. He glared at the man laughing beside him, turning off his phone when his second friend popped up beside them.

“Yeah, what’s got you so cheery lately? You finally find some poor girl to date you or somethin?”

“As if,” Naoya grumbled, shaking off the first guy and shoving his phone back in his pocket. “I’m not easy like you two. I don’t date just anyone.”

“Asshole,” the first man snickered, elbowing Naoya, making him shove he man back. “You can’t lie to us. You spent the entire class texting. It had to have been some cutie because ain’t no way in hell you’re texting a guy all day. What’s her name?”

“None of your business,” Naoya barked, kicking the door open and walking out of the building, the two men trailing behind as they made their way to the parking lot.

“So it is a girl!” exclaimed the second man, bouncing up to Naoya’s side. “Is she hot? I bet she is; your standards are too high. What’s she like in bed?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Naoya sneered, swallowing the venomous bile building in the back of his throat. “I don’t fuck and tell—”

The two other men laughed loudly, obnoxiously, clearly not believing Naoya’s statement. His face burned as he stomped ahead of them, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“Oh my god, you do like her!”

“When did this happen? You always talk about the girls you have sex with!”

“She must be pretty special for you to keep secrets about her—”

“Alright, enough.” Naoya snarled, unlocking his car and opening the door, throwing his bookbag in the passenger’s seat. “Since all you two wanna do is bother me, I won’t bother driving you back to your dorms.”

“Aw, come on, man! We were just playin’—”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna deal with yall harpin’ on me about stupid shit while I drive.” The second man sucked his teeth, kicking at the concrete.

“Maaan, don’t do me like that! It’s like a mile back to my room, I’m tired—”

“Oh yeah?” Naoya replied, opening the driver’s door and smirking at his friends. “Sucks for you. Maybe you should mind your business next time.” He dipped into his car, shutting the door behind him and locking it immediately. He heard one friend try to open the backseat as he buckled himself in, turning the key in the ignition as the other knocked on his window. Naoya rolled his window down, smirking as his friend leaned down against the frame.

“I just want you to know, the next time I see this car, I’m slashing your tires.” Naoya scoffed, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“If you do that, I’ll sue your ass.” The man rolled his eyes, standing back up and moving out of the way as Naoya backed out of his parking space. The three exchanged middle fingers as he drove away, rolling up his tinted window as he left the parking lot and drove off campus.

“Buncha assholes,” he grumbled, slouching in his seat and resting his cheek against his fist. “Don’t know shit.”

He thought back to the management class he just left, one that he didn’t bother paying attention to because he already knew all the material and didn’t see the point in relearning it. You had texted him out of the blue, asking if he was busy later. After a bit of teasing, he finally got you to admit that you were horny and didn’t want to take care of things yourself, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit elated that you came to him now whenever you were needy. At first it was just him approaching you, which he was fine with, but now that the two of you were nearing the end of ten weeks of this “friends with benefits” relationship, you had finally gotten comfortable going to him whenever you wanted sex. Took her long enough, he had thought the first time, but he couldn’t deny the fluttering that had developed in his chest whenever your contact popped up without warning.

What’s more is that it wasn’t even always for sex. Sometimes you texted to ask him a question, maybe offer something that you cooked and made too much of. He pretended like he was neutral towards your innocent advances, but he secretly loved when you made three dozen cookies and gave him a plastic bag filled to the brim. No girl had ever done that for him before: he wasn’t exactly “nice” to women, so he wasn’t used to random acts of kindness like that. It was always in exchange for something, whether it be money or gifts or improved social standing. It was never unprompted where nothing was asked for in return, so he didn’t know how to handle it when you started showing this softer side to him.

He tried convincing himself that it didn’t mean anything, that you were just being nice because it was in your nature—he knew that you took food to work as well, even gave some to other neighbors, so it’s not like he was exactly special—but he silently hoped that he meant more to you than your other coworkers or friends. Was that normal? Was it normal to want to be wanted? He wasn’t sure. He was used to people chasing him, but the thought of chasing someone else felt silly and beneath him. But when it came to you… Well, maybe he could push those feelings aside.

His mind wandered further as he parked outside his apartment and left his car, briefly wondering if you’d be a good girlfriend. He already knew you had a great pussy, so sex wouldn’t be a problem, but your attitude could ruin things. You weren’t as submissive outside of the bedroom, and you were a stubborn ass, so he doubted you would be willing to drop everything to be his stay-at-home wife. But who knows? Maybe if he fucked you hard enough, he could convince you to be a good girl and do what he asked of you.

“Well well well. I was wonderin’ when you’d show up.”

Naoya froze, looking up at the man who had spoken to him, his stomach dropping when he instantly recognized who it was.

“What’re you doing here?”

Toji chuckled, taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground, stomping it out with the toe of his boot. He was wearing the usual raggedy clothes he had—a fitted black t-shirt with paint-splattered camo pants—but he also had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, which was never a good sign.

“Good to see you too, man. How ya been? You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Yeah, that’s because I blocked you,” Naoya sneered, pulling out his wallet to get the keycard for his building.

“How rude. I expected better of you.”

“You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Chill out, dude. I’m just in town on business. Thought I’d visit ya.” Naoya scoffed as he unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Cool, well, it’s been a great visit but I have shit to do—"

The door stopped before it could close, causing Naoya to glare back at Toji who had blocked it with his large foot.

“You’re not gonna invite me up? Been waitin out here for almost half an hour. The least you could do is offer me some water or somethin.”

“The last time I let you into my apartment, you wouldn’t leave for two months—”

“And who says I’m here to stay? I told you, I’m visiting.” Naoya sneered, tugging on the door again just to find that it wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t trust you.” Toji hummed, eyes narrowing menacingly.

“I wonder how uncle Naobito would react to hearing about how his favorite son has lost all his manners.” Naoya tensed, eyes widening slightly before his brow furrowed, searching his face. Toji had a good three inches on Naoya—something he always gloated about once Naoya was out of high school—so he was quite the intimidating figure. That, and the threat of his cousin snitching to his dad about his behavior, made Naoya huff angrily and let go of the door, turning quickly.

“You’ve got twenty minutes; then I want you gone.” Toji snickered, following Naoya up the stairs.

“I was actually gonna talk to you about that—”

“You’re not staying—”

“I was gonna offer some money.”

Naoya paused on the second floor, glancing back at his cousin who was smirking up at him on the stairs, his scar so apparent that it ruined his smile.

“…How much?” Toji shrugged.

“I was thinking ‘bout ten percent of what I earn while I’m here.” Naoya’s eye’s narrowed.

“Fifty percent.”

“Fifteen—”

“Thirty—”

“Twenty-five, and—” Toji walked up a few steps so he was level with Naoya, “I get to eat your food without you complaining.” Naoya tapped his finger against the railing, glancing to the side before looking back at him.

“For how long?” Toji shrugged again.

“No longer than two weeks. Probably closer to one.”

“Cash?”

“Cash.”

“Alright,” Naoya agreed, holding out his hand and letting Toji shake it, “but if you stay longer than two weeks, I’m bumping it up to thirty.”

“Deal.” Toji pat his shoulder roughly, continuing up the stairs. “Now hurry up and show me this fancy apartment of yours. I got tools in this bag; I wanna put it down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Naoya grumbled, hurrying past him and up the stairs. “Just don’t touch anything—”

He froze once he reached his floor, eyes locked on you. You were leaning against the wall by his apartment, fiddling with your phone, a small box resting underneath your arm. Shit, he’d completely forgotten about you once he saw Toji. How was he going to explain—

“Hey,” Toji mumbled, nudging his cousin as he reached the same floor. “This your floor or not?”

“Uh… yeah… it is.”

“Well, then, let’s go.”

You checked your messages one more time, frowning when you saw that Naoya hadn’t even read your message. Did he stay behind and just forget to text you? Was he stuck in traffic? You hadn’t been waiting long, but you were too proud to stand outside a man’s door for longer than five minutes—

“Can I help you?” You looked up, your lip twitching when you saw Naoya approaching you, but your mouth soon turned downward when you saw the look on his face. Did something happen on the way home? Had someone cut him off?

“Uh, I—”

“Who’s this?” came a deep voice behind him. You looked past Naoya, eyes widening when you saw the large, towering figure come forward. Your eyes traveled from his dark hair and eyes to his broad chest, muscles bulging so much that you wondered how his shirt stayed intact. You forced yourself not to look too far down, fearing that you’d be able to see something large and thick pressing against his pants and that you wouldn’t be able to peel your eyes away. You looked back at his face, biting your lip when you saw the hungry smirk he gave you. “You Naoya’s girlfriend or something?”

“Hell no,” Naoya huffed, digging in his pockets for his keys. “She’s my annoying neighbor.” You blinked, clearly shrinking in on yourself as you processed the disgusted tone he had just used. You cleared your throat, turning back to the larger man.

“I’m sorry, um… wh-who are you?” His smirk grew as he outstretched his hand to you. Your eyes almost doubled in size when you saw how large his hand was. It could’ve easily covered your entire face.

“I’m Toji, Naoya’s older cousin. I doubt you’ve heard of me. What’s your name, gorgeous?” You shook your head slightly in shock, stopping yourself from imagining how those hands would feel on your body. You coughed slightly as you took his hand, giving a nervous smile as he shook your hand firmly.

“Um, m-my name's Y/N.”

“Y/N. Pretty,” he said with a suave smile. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” You felt your heart flutter as you giggled shyly, but that feeling disappeared when Naoya scoffed, finally unlocking the door. You stared at his back as he walked inside, your heart sinking so low that you felt sick. Toji hummed beside you, moving into your line of sight and leaning against the doorframe. “Anything we can help you with, Miss Y/N?”

“Um…” You took a step back, looking down at the box you were holding, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse that wouldn’t make you look like a fool. “I… I made brownies, but I ended up with too many… I was gonna try and be nice and offer some to my neighbors… but clearly someone doesn’t want any because I’m annoying so I’ll just go ask—”

“Can I have one?” You paused, glancing up at him anxiously.

“Uhh… sure! Of course.” You removed the plastic lid on the box, holding it out in front of you so Toji could grab one. The brownie he picked looked small in his hand, and the bite he took got rid of almost half the baked good already. He furrowed his brow as he chewed, nodding and giving a soft moan.

“Hot damn… that’s fucking good.” He took another bite, the brownie almost gone. “You made this yourself? Like all of it was homemade?” You nodded eagerly, smiling when he whistled low and finished off the brownie.

“Holy shit, that’s incredible. That’s fucking awesome. The chocolate chips are a nice touch.” Your cheeks burned when he made eye contact with you, not breaking it as he licked the leftover chocolate off his fingers. You looked down, biting your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Well, thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s the truth, sweetheart. I’d kill for another one of those.”

“Really?” Naoya heard you ask excitedly as he returned to the door. He scowled as he glanced past Toji to get a peek at you, his stomach twisting uncomfortably when he saw how gleeful you looked up at him. You’d never given Naoya that look before, and it just made him angrier to see it directed at his useless older cousin.

“Hell yeah. Haven’t had good home cooking like that in a long time. Miss it.”

“Oh, well… you can have the rest if you want.” Naoya bit his cheek to stifle his anger, fingers digging into his biceps.

“Oh shit, really? You don’t mind?”

“No, not at all! Like I said, I made plenty, so…”

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I rejected a pretty lady’s homemade food?” Naoya scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Have fun fattening yourself up into a pig like her—ow!” Naoya rubbed his arm where Toji had punched him, glaring at him but immediately shrinking under the bigger man’s gaze.

“Shut your mouth. Be useful and take my bag inside,” he scolded, slipping the duffel bag off his shoulder and handing it to Naoya. He frowned but took the bag regardless, stifling a grunt when it almost weighed him down to the floor. He cursed himself for letting his cousin treat him like a servant as he took the bag into the living room, continuing to listen in on Toji’s conversation with you. “Sorry about him. He’s a real ass sometimes.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it by now.”

“Poor thing. Must be a nightmare living next to him.” Naoya glowered when he heard your giggle ring like windchimes.

“It is what it is. I’ll live.”

“Well, hopefully he doesn’t bother you too much. Anyways, is there any way I can repay you for the brownies? I’m a bit of a handyman, to be honest. If you’ve got a leaky faucet, a squeaky chair, any holes that need to be filled, I’m your guy.” Naoya curled his hands into fists, glaring down at the couch as he set Toji’s ridiculously heavy bag down. Those brownies were supposed to be for him, and now Toji was getting them as well as flirting up a storm with you. It made Naoya see red… but he didn’t know why. It’s not like the two of you were dating, and it’s not like you were particularly special in any way, so why was he so mad at this situation?

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t have any problems with my apartment right now.”

“Hm. Well, lemme give you my number just in case. That way, if anything happens while I’m in town, I’ll fix it up for free. How’s that sound?”

“Oh, well, thank you! That’s very kind of you. Here…” Naoya heard the faint sound of thumbs tapping away at a phone screen as he returned to the front door.

“There. Don’t hesitate to text me if you need anything, anything at all.”

“Sure, of course.” Naoya’s heart began to race when you gazed past Toji to look at him, your sweet smile faltering slightly. You cleared your throat, glancing downward before looking back at Toji. “Well, it was nice to meet you but I have to go. I got some chores to do.”

“Sure, sweetheart. It was a pleasure to meet you, and…” Toji brought his hand up to you, cupping your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking right at him. He leaned down just a bit, lowering his voice, causing Naoya to struggle to hear him continue, “promise me you’ll text me if you need anything.” Naoya saw how you bat your eyelashes and swallowed, nodding as best you could.

“I-I promise.” Toji let out a soft laugh, bringing his hand to your cheek and giving it a gentle pat.

“Good girl. You have a good day, okay?”

“M-Mm-hm!” Toji let go of you and you stepped back clearly flustered as you gave a small wave. “Bye,” you said softly, turning quickly and flittering away. Toji leaned out the doorway to watch you, eyes trailing your form as he smirked slightly.

“Take a picture,” Naoya snarled, his anger clearly evident in his tone. “It’ll last longer.”

“She’s cute,” Toji replied, ignoring Naoya’s snarky remark.

“She’s a slut.”

“Hmm… how would you know?” Toji asked, sending Naoya a questioning stare, silently challenging him to admit to everything he’d been doing with you over the past three months. Naoya just crossed his arms, turning away and praying his cousin couldn’t see how flushed he was. Toji scoffed, moving into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

“Here,” Toji mumbled, holding up a brownie for Naoya to take. He smiled when his younger cousin took it after a moment of hesitation, ruffling his hair and walking away before Naoya could hit him. “Have a pity brownie, since you’re clearly pining for the girl next door.”

“Am not,” he barked after Toji, pouting a bit when the man brushed him off, placing the brownies on the couch and walking off to the bathroom. Naoya glared at his back till he was gone, sighing and looking down at the dessert you had made that was supposed to be for him in the first place. He inspected it for a moment, examining the cakey treat before he brought it gingerly to his lips and took a bite.

“Damn it,” he mumbled as he chewed slowly, savoring the fudginess and dark chocolate flavor. It was a bit sweet for his taste, but he could’ve easily eaten five more in one sitting. The chocolate chips were a nice touch, just like Toji said.

As he swallowed his first bite and took another, Naoya wished he could’ve told you that himself.