#and it reminded me that I’ve never seen him do a bad job in a role | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neontiger · 5 days ago

Text

the robin's nurse

♡ MDNI 18+

♡ Jason Todd x fem!reader

♡ Jason Todd needs you...more than he wants to admit. After an injury, it's on you to take care of him, and you know just what he needs.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It wasn’t the first call you’d received of that nature – you could remember that one clearly – but that hadn’t lightened the ache in your gut when it was Dick’s voice that greeted you from Jason’s number, sounding tired and worn out. Like he hadn’t slept.

The smile fell from your face. You’d nearly collapsed. No, the calls would never be easy.

Jason was fine, all things considered. A gunshot wound to the shoulder, clean through, and he’d been stitched up and bandaged at the manor, and could you pick him up? No, you couldn’t; you didn’t have a car. Not in the city. Too expensive, pointless, nowhere to park.

You were hiding in the bathroom at work to take the call. Somebody had drawn a heart on the wall with the initials A+L inside.

“Oh.” Dick made a noise, like surprise. How useless you were, you remember thinking. Couldn’t be there when Jay needed you the most. “Is it okay if I…well, he doesn’t want to stay here, but I can’t let him out on his own. Needs supervision. Otherwise…well, you know how he is. Is it okay if I drop him off at your place?”

You’d nodded. Silent. Swallowed the knot and repeated the affirmation out loud. “Yes. Yeah, that’s fine. It’s, uh –”

“I know your address.”

That was strange, but you didn’t question it. Dating one Robin meant the rest had to do their research. They probably checked your damn credit score.

You’d hung up; left work early. Your manager, Harry, wrote it down in his stupid ledger – marked up that you were leaving early again. It didn’t matter; by that time you were outside flagging down a taxi and readying your credit card, just so you could get there at the same time as Dick and Jason. Still, they’d beat you there, and when you shoved open the door to your apartment they both sat on your couch. The television had been on. The only light in the room.

It was hard to make out Jason’s face, but his arm in the sling was as obvious as the sun. He’d left the lights off on purpose so you couldn’t see exactly how bad he looked.

Dick stopped you from taking another step, stood over you and blocked your view of Jason. “Do me – us a favor and keep him on house arrest,” he said quietly. “If you need anything you can call me.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, unable to keep eye contact with him. “How bad is – it?”

“Nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. He’s just grumpy about it.” Dick crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry I’m putting this on you. I’d do it, but I’ve got to get back to Bludhaven. Seriously, call me if anything comes up. If I can’t come, Barbara will.”

You nodded again. The knot in your throat tightened. Tears pricked the back of your eyes, tumbling down your cheeks even as you fought against them. Dick noticed – God, if a Robin never noticed, just this once – and his hand found your shoulder before leaving the two of you alone in the dark.

•───────•°•♡•°•───────•

That had been almost two weeks ago. You’d only made it two days as Jason Todd’s private nurse before Harry was calling you back into work on the threat that your job wouldn’t be there the next day. If only you had Wayne money, then you wouldn’t need the job…could stay home and watch the spoiled baby 24/7.

And Jason was an absolute baby about the whole thing. Getting shot had understandably soured his mood, and every question you asked was met with a grunt or a shrug. You’d never seen him so moody – though you knew him stubborn, always wanting to sort things out on his own, not wanting someone to take care of him or his problems – was that a middle child thing?

Or that other thing you didn’t like to think about.

Whatever it was, it was frustrating. He didn’t want help. He wanted to take care of himself. He wanted to get back out there, which wasn’t allowed in the slightest. You’d had to remind him multiple times. Teasing him was like throwing barbs at the wall. That usual cocky, smart-mouthed man you knew was too busy sighing and shrugging to meet your playful jabs. He’d locked himself away and you couldn’t find the keys to get him back.

The idea was born out of that frustration.

•───────•°•♡•°•───────•

You bought the outfit and toys before work at one in the afternoon, which felt like a strange time to be at a sex shop. You’d stuffed them into your bag and hid that in your locker, and your heart raced as you worked the dining room floor – no, more than that. You were fighting arousal as you took orders, knowing what was coming tonight.

You rush home – taxi again, despite how expensive, because your panties are already soaked and you can’t wait for the bus or the subway – no, you needed to be home with your cunt clenching around Jason’s cock an hour ago.

In the hall there’s a scent wafting from underneath one of the apartment doors – garlicky, warm. Not terrible but a little overwhelming. As you approach your door it grows stronger, leaving you to the realization that it’s coming from your apartment. You push open the door with your shoulder.

Jason glances up from the pot he’s stirring, where the smell originates from. “Hey,” he says. “I’m making dinner.”

You shut the door and hug your bag to your side. “I see that. Where’s your sling?”

His movements are slightly pained. “I don’t need it anymore,” he says, shaking his head. He furrows his brow at the pot. “How do you – it’s not getting thick. It’s supposed to be thick.”

“I’m going to change,” you say. “Potato starch is over the stove.”

“Supposed to be flour –”

“Potato starch!” You shout from the bathroom before pulling the door shut. Your fingers tremble in excitement as you pull out the dress – a latex nurse’s uniform in white with red trim. As quiet as you can you pull it on. The hem barely cuts beneath your ass but you forego panties anyway – what’s the point? You tug it down enough for the loosest of coverage and fix the top. It’s nothing more than a pair of triangles, and you admire the perfect spillage of tit in the mirror.

A red lip, white stockings that squeeze the fat of your thighs with pure lust, a red heel – God, you’d fuck yourself, if that was an option.

There’s a knock on the door while you’re in the midst of admiring yourself in the mirror. “Yeah?” You ask, squeaky with nervousness.

“I messed up,” Jason says. “I added the starch, but it’s chunky.”

It doesn’t matter, you think. Your hand rests on the door handle as you inhale a final, deep breath, before pulling the door open.

Jason’s mouth hangs open. Blue-green eyes drag over you, your body, the outfit – under scrutiny you feel silly – but he has to like it, right? His gaze lands on your breasts and lingers before continuing their assault, stopping on your hips before settling on your thighs for a few beats. He takes a step back and repeats the look with a drag back up before ending for good on your lips.

And he says nothing. Why is he staring like that?

“Did you make a slurry?” You ask, feeling stupid. Asking about the sauce.

Jason blinks. “A…what?”

“Did you add water to the potato starch?”

He shrugs. His gaze flashes down to your tits then back up. He swallows. “Potato…what?”

You, in skintight latex, on display, gripping the door frame for life as your heart beats out of your chest. “You have to…add water. You can’t add it dry. It doesn’t work.”

“Oh.” He wets his lips. “Can we…uh…can we talk about…um…” He looks down at your body again. “This?”

Fire burns your cheeks. Stupid, stupid idea. “I thought…you know, ‘cause you’re hurt, and I’m like…I thought you needed some cheering up.”

Jason nods. “I’m very cheered up, princess. Very, very cheery right now.”

Finally you glance down. The grey sweatpants he’s wearing don’t hide anything. His cock strains against the fabric and your stare lasts longer than his did. It’s cut off by the beep of the oven timer.

“Noodles,” Jason says. Awkwardly he hurries to the kitchen to remove the pot from the stove and strain the noodles, as if dinner is still important.

You follow to check how badly he’s ruined the sauce, though what you’ll be able to achieve when your brain is filled with filth you’re unsure. You give it a useless stir when Jason presses against your back, grabbing your hand before it can land on the stove. His cock rubs against the slick latex covering your ass.

“I like it,” he whispers, in your ear. “I, uh…yeah, I like it a lot.” His breath shudders against your neck as his hand brushes up your thigh. Fingers grip the hem of your dress and softly tug as he presses you against the stove.

You grab his hand and silence him. “Nuh-uh. You need to follow the plan the doctor’s laid out.”

Jason pauses. “What?”

Where the line had come from you didn’t know – maybe the research you’d done planning this entire thing. You turn around and flatten your hands on his chest, holding him back slightly. “Please, sir. I need to give you…a thorough check-up.”

His eyes grow wide. “A check-up?”

The next line doesn’t come, so instead you take his hand and lead him to the couch in silence, point for him to take a seat. The cluttered coffee table is in the way and you shove it to the side. “Stay seated,” you say. “I have to get my equipment.”

“Equipment?” Jason grins. “You’ve got…equipment?”

You nod and walk away, returning to the bathroom to grab the bright pink paper bag of toys you’d picked up along with the nurse’s outfit. All charged and ready for use – that had been fun to do without anybody noticing the set-up in your locker. Returning to him, you kneel on the floor in front of Jason.

“Hold on.” He gets up and leaves you in slight confusion as he walks to the bed, but it's gone when he grabs a pillow. He returns and says, “Get up. You're going to hurt your knees…ma'am.”

With you comfortable, he takes his seat on the couch again, knees apart for you to fit between his thighs. You fight the urge to drop the act and just jump into his lap without preparation – as if you really need it anymore, slick dripping down your inner thighs at the mere sight of him. He slouches against the back of the couch, watching you in wait.

You wet your lips. “Remove your shirt, sir.”

Jason sits up to obey, peeling the fabric over his head in a swift move. You pinch your lips together, afraid you're drooling at the view of his hardened chest, the scars lining his otherwise perfect body...your eyes flash to the newest one, the puckered wound on his shoulder, still angry and red.

“Just my shirt?” He asks.

“For now.”

He chuckles, eyes on your fingers as they hold in them a pink bullet-shaped vibrator. Silent a moment later as he watches you press your nail into the silicone slightly to turn it on. His hands rest on his thighs, close enough to his almost painful erection that he can't help palming himself when you're not looking…just to relieve some of the pressure.

You sit up on your knees. The vibrator's quick pulsing movements tickle the tips of your fingers. “First, we need to see how, um…receptive you are.” It was in the video. You watched it so many times you have the moves memorized, and first…first you wet your lips, again, gathering spit behind them before getting the vibrator with your tongue.

Jason raises an eyebrow. He watched in fascination, following your fingers and the vibe. His body jolts with a grunted fuck when you press it lightly to his nipple. “Shit,” he sighs. “That's weird.”

You pull back immediately. “Sorry.”

“No, it's good.” He quickly course corrects, grabbing your wrist before you get too out of character. “Am I…receptive?”

You press the vibe to his nipple again. His entire body tenses and he lets out a strangled moan. “Very,” you say softly, rubbing gently around the pert bud. It's not something either of you had explored with him yet…but he seems to enjoy it. Slowly you drag the vibrator to the other nipple to repeat the process, his body tensing and jerking slightly with your teasing movements.

“Very good,” you say, a breathy whisper that brushes his skin, causing a shiver down his spine. “Your reflexes are good.”

Jason laughs, his abdomen flexing with the sound even as you trace the vibrator on a downward path. “What do you need to check next, ma'am?”

“Virility.” You tucked the vibrator under the waistband of his sweatpants. He straightens quickly at the proximity of the vibrations – so close to where he needs your touch – and grabs your hand. You pull the vibrator free. “Too much?”

Jason shakes his head. “Can you lower the setting?”

You press through the options until you find the softest buzz. “Take your pants off,” you order, a bit abruptly.

He lifts to slip off his sweatpants and underwear in one go, your greedy hands helping him tug them completely down his legs. “Getting impatient, huh, princess?”

You nod curtly, keeping eye contact with the beads of precum dripping down his shaft. “I have other patients to get to, sir,” you mumble.

His cock bobs with the burst of laughter he lets out. You clench your fist around the vibrator, fighting the urge to give up the tease and impale yourself on his length this very second. “Other patients?” He pinches your chin and wrenches your gaze up to meet his. “I thought you were my personal nurse.”

You say the first thing you can think of. “Your treatment is personalized. I don't offer it to the others, sir.”

Jason grins. “Reassuring. I won't interrupt again, ma'am.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before sitting back.

You reach into your bag for the bottle of lube and peel off the plastic to pop it open. Jason shifts as he watches, clearly growing impatient himself, as you squeeze a stream of the clear, viscous liquid on the head of his cock. He twitches in response as you work your hand around his thick length.

“Fuck.” He sighs, head falling back, as you give his cock a few pumps.

Your mouth is dry, but you speak anyway. He seems to like the talking bit, despite how awkward it makes you feel. “Feels healthy, sir,” you say, running your fingertips down the underside to his balls. He spreads his legs further for you to allow you to cup and squeeze, tensing as you do. Gently you place the vibrator against the underside of his shaft, on the spot near the head that drives him mad.

Jason's hips jerk up and he curses again. One of his hands grips the arm of the couch while the other tangles in your hair, not pushing, only holding. You rub gently with the vibrator as you lower your head to his balls, to paint small circles with your tongue. Another jerk up, his fingers tighten in your strands. Another groan and a fuck.

You suck gently as you play with the vibrator against his sensitive flesh. Jason moans softly, body tense against impending release. In your mouth his balls tighten, and you clench your thighs together, between them a slick mess of want. Without removing your mouth, you turn up the setting on the vibrator once.

He inhales sharply through his teeth and grabs your hand, pulling it away from his cock. “Stop, stop,” he pants. You sit back as he slouches against the couch, head tilted back. His chest heaves with heavy breaths.

“Jay, are you okay?” You hold down the button on the vibrator to shut it off. “I'm sorry. Was it too much?”

“It's good.” He rolls his head to give you a lazy smile. “Too good. About to cum. Give me that thing.” He holds out his hand, palm up.

You give up the vibrator. He takes your hand and guides you into his lap, a knee on either side of his hip, his hands cupping your ass keeping you poised above his cock. He raises an eyebrow. “No panties, huh?”

“I didn't see the point,” you say. You rest your arms on his shoulders and smile down at him. “Do you feel better?”

He sighs. “I'm…I'm sorry. I've been a piece of shit to you lately. This injury…”

“It's fine,” you say quickly. “Or, maybe not. But Dick warned me, so I kind of expected it.”

“Just…” Jason rests his head back. His hands loosen on your ass and come up to your waist. “I don't like this feeling. It should be the other way around. I'm useless like this.”

“You're not useless. You're just…indisposed,” you say. “It's alright to ask for help sometimes. It shouldn't be, like…one person taking care of the other. It has to be mutual.”

Another smile graces his lips, pure and sweet. “Where'd you get your credentials anyway?”

With his hands no longer keeping you elevated, you sink down slightly to rub your swollen clit against the slick head of his cock. His fingers grip tighter on your waist. You lean in to whisper in his ear. “I'm unlicensed.”

His laugh is cut short as you sink down on him, taking his cock into your plush walls in one quick movement. Your sticky thighs meet his hips, and you pause to adjust and to finally kiss him. His lips part to accept your tongue, his own brushing over yours to explore the inside of your mouth.

You lift slowly, but find it hard to fully remove yourself from him, only capable of making it halfway up his cock before your pussy eagerly sucks him in again. He groans into your mouth and goads you on with slight movements of his hands, one gripping your ass again to direct you while the other disappears. You hear the buzzing a moment before you feel it against your clit.

You freeze and clench, squeezing his cock in your heat, the head grinding against that spot inside as he seeks to undo you. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispers, his lips floating on yours. “Don’t stop now. Move for me, princess.”

It’s difficult to obey when all your body wants to do at this moment is disintegrate into pleasure, but you force your hips up and down again. His fingers and the vibrator never leave your clit, rubbing gently to increase the pressure as your core knots. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life, your face buried in his neck as you cry out.

His breath brushes your ear. “Do you want to come, sweetie? Me too. Gonna fill you up like you deserve…been so good, taking care of me…come with me.”

You nod against his neck, whimpering his name. The vibrations increase, pick up speed, and you try to match your movements to them even though your thighs burn and you can’t feel your toes. Jason’s hips lift to meet yours, desperate upward thrusts that spell the end of both of you.

It’s quick on your end – a rush and an unknotting in your core, and you keen against his neck, unable to lift any longer as your slick walls clamp down on his cock. His release drags on, pumping you full of his seed. He pulls the vibrator from your clit before it’s too much and holds you against him as his cock continues to throb and spill inside you.

You finally exhale. Swallow. Whine.

Jason presses the vibrator off and sets it aside to wrap your limp body in his arms. “I might need treatments…at least once a week,” he says.

You laugh weakly. “Uh-huh. You like it that much?”

“It’s a nice costume.”

“Mm.” You nuzzle against his neck. “You know what else is a nice costume?”

His laugh shakes through your body, and involuntarily your walls tense around his still-hard cock. “Maybe I’ll dress up for you,” he says. “Someday.”

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd smut #dc jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x f!reader

280 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago

Text

Dick’s

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: the only good part of your job at Dick’s Sporting Goods is how often Peter comes in to buy repairs for his suit

Masterlist

“Back so soon?”

“What?” Peter looked up and pulled his earbud out when he heard you say something. You chuckled when you heard the music coming through his earbuds and continued scanning the spandex shirt he was buying.

“You were here two nights ago.” You reminded him. “And four days before that. You’re here all the time, actually.”

“Yeah, I am. How’d you know that?” Peter blushed as you handed him the bag of his stuff. You looked around for anyone who might be listening before motioning for Peter to come closer. His blush deepened and he leaned across the register.

“I work here.” You whispered in his ear. You cracked a smile as you leaned back and pointed to the Dick’s Sporting Goods logo on your uniform shirt.

“Right.” He laughed shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s all cool. I’m sorry that I work here too.” You shrugged, making Peter laugh again.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“The name of the store is Dick’s.” You said flatly. “And apparently, that’s the only kind of people they hire here.”

“Yeah. I asked someone for help finding the nuts and bolts and he asked if I looked in my mouth.” Peter admitted. Your jaw dropped in surprise before you burst out laughing.

“Who was it?” You asked him. “Did he have red hair?”

“Yeah. In the hardware section.”

“Fucking Jeremy. I’ll kick his ass for you, okay? I’m pretty sure he’s like 13 or something but I’ll still do it.” You said, and Peter couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.

“That’s really not necessary.” He laughed shyly.

“All right.” You nodded. “Just know that I would. I’ve been looking for a reason to kick his ass anyway.”

“Why?” Peter wondered.

“Didn’t you see his face? It’s so punchable. Plus, he watches videos in the break room at full volume with no earbuds in. And if he thinks the video is funny, he’ll rewatch it multiple times. So then we all have to hear this loud, unfunny video multiple times. It drives me crazy. He deserves to get his ass kicked. I might do it just for fun now.”

“His face was pretty punchable.” Peter admitted.

“Can we hurry this up? This is taking way too long.” A man behind Peter complained, making your smile fall.

“That’s what she said.” You mumbled as you grabbed Peters receipt.

“To him.” Peter replied. You looked up at him and smiled in surprise.

“Because he’s probably bad at sex.” Peter explained in a weak voice.

“No, I got it. And I appreciated it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Peter laughed shyly.

“One last question for you. Then I have to help Mr. Clean with his very important purchase of golf ball cleaner.” You said as you nodded towards the guy behind Peter.

“Oh, sure. Ask away.”

“Are you listening to Judas by Lady Gaga?” You asked and pointed to Peters earbuds. He turned red in embarrassment and thought about lying, but you clearly already knew.

“It’s her best song.�� He said simply.

“Oh, I know that.” You assured him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know that.”

“Oh, I do.” He matched your tone, making you smile.

“Well all right then. Have a good night. See you really soon probably.” You teased him.

“Yeah. See you soon.” Peter smiled at you as he took his receipt.

Peter practically skipped out of Dicks that night. He frequented the store every time his suit needed a repair and had seen you working there a few times, forever looking miserable behind the cash register. He just never thought you’d notice him too.

A few nights later, Peter busted the eye on his mask while on patrol. He dropped his suit off at home and when to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get something to replace it. When he brought it up to the register to buy and smiled when he saw you.

“Hey.” You smirked at him and blew a bubble with your gum.

“Hey.” He smiled softly at you.

“Gum?”

“What?” He asked. You wordlessly held up a pack of Big League Chew and blew another bubble.

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving.” He replied without thinking. He felt embarrassed for malign a stupid joke but you cracked up over it.

“I use that joke all the time.” You laughed. “Except I usually say “no thanks, I’m trying to quit.” I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I like yours better.” Peter tried to flirt.

“You can steal it. I won’t mind.” You winked at him and blew another big pink bubble. Peter gulped as you handed him his bag.

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.” You called after him as he left the store.

He returned a few days later, not that he needed anything. He was here for you this time. He came into the store at night with a plan to learn your name. It wasn’t much, but it was a step towards getting to know you better.

“Hey, Judas Boy.” You waved to Peter from behind the register.

“Hey, Dick’s girl.” He waved back and grabbed some spandex before heading to the register.

“Oh, thank God.” You said sarcastically. “You haven’t bough red and blue spandex shirts in almost a week. I was worried you were going to run out.”

“I almost did. This week has not been easy.” Peter humored you. You smiled when he played along and put his stuff into a bag.

“How come you guys don’t wear name tags?” Peter asked you as he put his plan into action.

“We’re supposed to. We’re also supposed to wear hard shoes and khaki pants.” You said behind your hand and pointed your foot out from behind the register to show him your leggings and crocs.

“I see. Not much of a rule follower?”

“I can be. But not for Dicks. Nothing for Dicks.” You said with such passion he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.

“But where else can you find a spandex section like this?” Peter joked and held up his bag.

“Models. Target. Walmart. Patagonia.“ You started to list off.

“Okay, sure.” Peter agreed. “But Dicks is the only one that carries red and blue.”

“Oh, I see. And red is blue is the only kind you can buy?” You chuckled.

“Obviously. What am I supposed to wear? Black?” Peter grimaced, making you laugh again.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? I’ve always wondered that. Why could you possibly be doing that you need all this red and blue spandex clothing?”

“Cause I’m Spiderman.” Peter said with a simply shrug. He held his breath and hoped you take that as a joke, which of course, you did.

“That’s hot.” You smirked and handed him his receipt.

“Have a good night.” He told you.

“Night.”

Peter was back just a few nights later. He never actually learned your name, so he technically had an excuse to return. He brought a spandex shirt up to the register and you laughed when you saw it.

“I think you’re single handedly funding our red and blue spandex supply.”

“Really? I’m the only one who buys it?”

“Just you.” You nodded. “My boss said he wasn’t gonna order anymore but I told him that would be making one special customer very unhappy.”

“You told him to order more just for me?” Peter smiled shyly and felt his blush go all the way to his ears.

“Duh.” You scoffed. “I gotta earn that sweet, sweet $15 an hour somehow. Pleasing one specific customer is how I choose to do it.”

“$15 an hour to work by yourself every night is insane. But I don’t even get paid for my job, so I’m not one to talk.”

“What is your job?” You wondered.

“I told you. I’m Spiderman.”

“No, but really.” You laughed. Peter looked down at the spandex and tried to think of any other profession that could explain why he was always buying it.

“I’m a male ballerina.” He said finally.

“For real?” Your eyes widened. “That’s way cooler.”

“Cooler than Spiderman?”

“Hell yeah.” You scoffed. “I’ve never seen Spiderman do a pas de deux.”

“I’ve never seen anyone do a pack de- um…”

“Pas de deux.” You chuckled when he couldn’t say the word.

“Yeah. That.” He blushed again.

“Have a good night then, nutcracker.” You said with a wink.

“Night, Dick‘s girls.”

The next time Peter came into the store, he had to stay away from the spandex section. May was getting suspicious about why he was buying so much when his suit didn’t have any visible damage, so he had to think of something else.

“Gummy worms?” You asked as Peter dropped a bag of sour gummy worms on the counter.

“You sell them. So I’m buying them.” He shrugged. You laughed as you scanned it and looked up at him.

“Do you live around here?”

“About 4 blocks away.” He answered. “Why?”

“Because this is New York. Which means you had to have passed, at the very least, 4 corner stores to get here. All of which sell gummy worms. And yet, you chose to walk all the way to a sporting goods store to get them. Why is that?” You asked as you leaned on the counter.

“I didn’t need spandex tonight.” He admitted as a blush painted his cheeks.

“Then why’d you come out here?” You smirked.

“Because I’m a stalker. And I’m learning your schedule so I can smite you and wear your skin.” He replied without thinking. He held his breath again but was sure you would not find a joke about him killing you to be funny. But to his surprise, you smirked in amusement.

“That’s hot.” You said replied. “Can you cover my shifts for me once you start wearing my skin?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“Cool. Enjoy your worms.” You chuckled and handed him his candy. Peter was about to leave when he decided to rip open the bag and hand you a worm.

“For your troubles, madam.” He said, then made a dash for the door. He heard you laughing as he walked out into the street, making it all worth while.

Peter returned to the store the next day but felt his heart sink in disappointment when he didn’t see you behind the register. He turned to leave and jumped when you were standing right behind him.

“Have you ever seen Black Swan?” You asked him.

“What? Jesus Christ. You scared me.” He said and put his hand over his pounding heart.

“You’re a male ballerina, right? You must’ve seen Black Swan.”

“No. I’ve never heard of it.” Peter answered as his eyes darted to the side.

“That was the face of a man who has 100% seen lezzy wet dream scene from Black Swan.” You laughed and pointed to him.

“Maybe once or twice.” His whispered.

“Well I’m going on break now and I was gonna go watch it in the storage room.”

“Oh. That sounds fun.”

“You wanna come?” You asked him like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. Peter looked around to see if any customers or employees were watching before following you into the back. He knew he shouldn’t be walking through a door that said “employees only”, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to hang out with you.

“Am I allowed back here?” Peter whispered and stayed close behind you.

“Probably not.” You shrugged and led him to the storage room. You shut the door behind the two of you and sat down on one of the shelves.

“Will you get in trouble?” Peter asked as he took a seat beside you.

“Maybe.” You shrugged again and pulled the movie up on your phone.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your manager. I’d feel horrible.”

“Dude, my manger is 17 and high as a kite right now.” You snorted. “He won’t care as long as we don’t interrupt his vape session.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter relaxed and leaned against the wall. You shoulders were touching and he realized this was the closest you’d ever been.

“Here. I didn’t want to subject you to using a strangers earbuds so I stole this from the front.” You said as you pulled new earbuds out of your pocket. You tore them out of the plastic casing and plugged them into your phone before offering Peter one.

“They’re your favorite colors, right?” You asked in a soft voice. The earbuds were red and blue, the only colors Peter ever bought. They weren’t actually his favorite colors, just the color of his suit, but he thought it was cute that you specifically got this pair thinking he’d like the colors.

“Yeah. Red and blue are great.” He smiled softly and put his earbud in. You put the other in and started the movie. Peter couldn’t pay attention to a single second because the smell of your perfume was triggering all his senses. He stared at you instead of the screen until his eyes landed on the earbuds connecting you.

“I can’t believe you stole for me.” He said with a smug grin.

“Relax. I don’t do it often. But I did also steal these for you.” You said and pulled a pack of gummy worms out of your other pocket. Peters face lit up and he opened the worms before handing you one. Your fingers touched at one point when you both reached for a word and he gulped.

“When did you take these anyway?” He wondered.

“A couple hours ago when I first clocked in.” You replied. “I made sure to wait until I was on the company’s time before I took them. I don’t do anything here until I’m on the company’s time.”

“So you knew you were going to ask me to watch this with you when you first got here?” He asked as a smile crossed his face. You looked up from the movie and sheepishly turned to face him.

“You always come in at this time. And I’ve always wanted to see this movie. I figured you’d like it because you like ballet. Is that weird?” You asked, sounding nervous for the first time.

“No. It’s not weird.” Peter shook his head to assure you. You smiled in appreciation and nodded before turning back to the movie. Peter was able to focus on it now, but couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.

“I love getting paid to watch gay movies.” You sighed happily as the movie neared its end.

“You need to make money somehow. God, I need a job. I’m gonna go broke from this store alone.”

“You’ve never looked at your receipt, have you?” You chuckled and looked over at him.

“No. Why?”

“Every time you come in here, I only charge you for tic tacs.” You admitted. “No matter what you buy, I just remove the tag and then scan a pack of wintergreen tic tacs.”

“Wait, seriously? Why?” He smiled curiously and turned to face you.

“Because then I can eat the tic tacs without feeling bad about stealing since you paid for them.” You shrugged. “And so that you don’t give all your money to Dick’s Sporting Goods just to fuel your spandex fetish. You only ever spend a dollar or so when you come here. I can’t believe you never realized that.”

“So you’ve been saving me money this whole time? Those shirts are like $15 each.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” You chuckled. “An hour of my work is worth a single, thin shirt. That makes me feel less guilty about never making you pay.”

“You’re really cool for that. Thanks.” Peter said sincerely.

“Yeah, well. I think you’re cool too.” You shrugged and looked down so he couldn’t see your smile. Peter stared at you with a dreamy smile on his face until he noticed the clock behind you.

“How long is your break?” He wondered.

“15 minutes.” You shrugged.

“15 minutes?! We’ve been back for over an hour.” Peter whispered harshly.

“Jeremys got it.” You waved your hand. “I cover for him all the time. He owes me.”

“Okay, good.” Peter sighed. “As long as you won’t get in trouble.”

“Will you stop worrying about me? I’ll be fine. You need to start breaking a few rules every now and then. Do you always do exactly what you’re expected to?”

“You’d be surprised.” Peter mumbled and debated telling you the reason he was always buying red and blue spandex. You noticed he had a far off look in his eyes and moved his chin to make him look at you.

“You never told me your name, by the way.” You said in a soft voice.

“It’s Peter.” He replied as his eyes dropped to your lips. “What’s yours?”

“Y/N!” Jeremey came barging into the m storage room, making you and Peter jump away from each other.

“Oh, there you are.” Jeremy smiled calmly. “Can you help me ring this guy up? He has a coupon but it’s expired.”

“So then he doesn’t have a coupon.”

“I know but he’s being really annoying about it and told me to get the manger but Kyle is vaping and said not to disturb him.” Jeremy whined.

“Damn, still? How long has this kid been vaping for? Are we even sure he’s alive?” Peter asked.

“Wait, who’s that?” Jeremy frowned and pointed to Peter. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look.

“That’s Peter. He works the night shift.” You said quickly.

“I’m Peter. I work the night shift.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“Oh. Okay. I don’t really care. You could’ve been back here smocking crack and sucking dick with a total stranger and I would not have batted an eye. Lord knows I’ve done it. But I do really need your help with the coupon.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled and got up to go follow Jeremy. Peter got up as well to let himself out.

“See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before heading back to the register. Peter touched the part of his arm where you’d hand had been and smiled softly.

“See you later.”

Peter walked out of the store with a huge smile on his face. But loud noises coming from dumpster behind the store caught Peters attention. He climbed up the wall and walked along the roof so he could scope out what was going on. When Peter saw two guys trying to pick the lock to the back door, he quickly pulled his suit out of his backpack and put it on. He dropped down behind the two guys and cleared his throat when they didn’t hear him.

“Hey guys. I guess you didn’t see the front door. It’s right around the block under the huge, glowing sign that says Dick’s.” Peter said sarcastically. The guys stopped what they were doing and wiped around.

“Woah. It’s the Spiderman.” One of the guys gasped.

“Why do people always say “the” Spiderman?” Peter wondered. “It’s just Spiderman. I was very clear about that when I first started.”

“Let’s get this freak.” The other guy said and started walking towards Peter.

“Before we fight, I should let you guys know that two against one isn’t really fair when the one has web shooters.” Peter said as he raised his fists. His cocky smile disappeared when three more guys came out of the shadows and closed in on him. The five guys took turns punching and kicking Peter until he laid on the ground in a ball. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed up some blood as one of the guys delivered another kick to his stomach. One of them rolled him over and climbed on top of him with his fist raised in the air. Peter accepted his fate and was about to shut his eyes when a hammer, still in its package, came flying through the air and hit the guy in the head. The man grunted in pain and fell off of Peter. This gave Peter enough time to crawl away as more hammers were thrown in the direction of the men. Peter weakly looked up and saw you standing in the doorway with a bunch of hammers in your arms that you were haphazardly throwing at the men.

“Eat my hammer!” You yelled and threw another hammer at the head of one of the guys. Peter let out a weak laugh and clutched his side in pain.

“Dick’s girl?” He asked groggily.

“It’s Y/n.” You reminded him and threw another hammer. This time, one of the guys caught the hammer and started running towards you. Before Peter could get up to protect you, you pulled a bowling ball out from the floor beneath you and threw it at the guy. He was knocked to the ground as you pulled something else behind your bat. When you stepped under a streetlight, Peter as able to see you had taken a lacrosse stick from the store. You whacked one of the guys across the face so hard that he fell to the ground. You swept the leg of another guy, leaving only one standing. Peter held his aching body as you fearlessly walked up to the final goon.

“Spiderman over here is my friend. He’s one of the much, much friendlier Avengers. But not me. I’m fucking mental. I was trained in kung fu for the moment I could walk. I was raised to be a weapon. You don’t want to mess with me.” You said to the man as your rung the lacrosse stick in your hands.

“Oh please. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.” The man sneered and pointed to you. You smirked and caught his finger between your thumb and index finger while keeping your pinky upright.

“You see this? This is called the Wuxi Finger hold. If I bend my pinky, your chi is gonna be so fucked that all the bones in your body will break and half this block will be decimated.” You told him

“You’re bluffing.” He scoffed. “That’s not possible.”

“You wanna find out?” You asked and tightened your grip on his finger. The man’s eyes flicked between your face and his finger as he debated whether or not he believed you.

“This chick is crazy. Let’s get out of here.” The guys finally decided and took off running. The four others groaned as the got up and ran away as well. You sighed and threw the bloody lacrosse stick into the dumpster before looking down at Peter.

“So you’re not a male ballerina?”

“No. I’m Spiderman.”

“That’s not as cool.” You mumbled and bent down to help him sit up fully.

“Can you really break all his bones with one finger?” Peter asked you.

“Huh? Oh, no.” You chuckled. “I stole that shit from Kung Fu Panda. Those ska-douches clearly don’t have good taste in movies so they didn’t even realize.”

“Oh.” Peter smiled weakly. “Well, thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome, Peter. Come on.” You winked at him and carefully helped him stand up. You wrapped his arm around you and helped him limp his way into the break room. You raided the sports injury aisle before helped Peter up onto a table.

“Am I allowed to be back here?” Peter asked as he pulled his mask off.

“No one’s gonna know. Kyles vaping in the baseball aisle and Jeremy went home.” You said and set the supplies you had taken down on the table beside him.

“Are you allowed to take those?”

“You are quite a rule follower for the face of illegal vigilanteism, you know that?” You chuckled and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“I’m actually not a vigilante. I’m on Mr. Starks roster. We have government clearance.”

“Okay. So just tell yourself I have government clearance to steal these supplies.” You told him, making him laugh. You laughed as well and started to clean him up. Peter stared at you fondly as you patched up his wounds.

“I really appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m in charge of filling out the inventory catalogues when we get shipments. I can easily make it look like these supplies never existed. Don’t worry, okay? And even if I do get in trouble, it’ll be worth it.” You said without looking at him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked softly. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

“Because I like you.” You shrugged. “I think you’re cool.”

“You do?”

“Is that shocking?” You laughed and cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.

“Kinda. I’m kinda a loser.”

“Really? Because I didn’t see any losers out there tonight. You know, other than those five losers trying to break into a Dick’s sporting goods. I’m really glad all the golf pencils and eye paint are safe.” You said sarcastically. Peter laughed and rested his hands on your hips.

“I like you too, by the way.”

“You do?” You asked skeptically.

“A lot, actually. Sometimes, I don’t even need anything. I just come here and hope you’re working.”

“Well I asked my boss to only schedule me at night because you never come in during the day.” You playfully one upped him.

“Really? You did that because of me?” He smiled fondly.

“You coming in here is the only good thing about this place.” You answered honestly.

“You’re the only reason I come.” Peter told you.

“Ayo.” You snickered.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed sheepishly.

“It’s okay. It was funny.”

“No you know why I’m always in here buying spandex and random things. I bust up my suit a lot and the guy who made it for me isn’t around anymore.”

“It’s a pretty cool suit. I can’t even tell where you’ve patched it up. I guess our spandex is just really high quality.”

“You got some pretty cool clothes yourself. Not everyone can pull off Hunter green.”

“Wanna see something?” You asked and unzipped the green Dick’s zip up on had on to reveal a black T- shirt underneath that read “I heart Dick’s” with the stores logo in the heart.

“I heart dicks? No way that’s a real uniform.” Peter laughed and pulled on your shirt to read it better.

“Yep. I couldn’t believe it either. I guess the Boomers that make our uniforms don’t see penis humor in everything like our generation does. I tried to tell my boss that these shirts were ridiculous but he said he’d fire me if I didn’t wear it. Even though I literally hate Dick’s.”

“You do?”

“Not that kind of dick.” You laughed. “I meant the store. If this place burned down, I wouldn’t pee on it to put it out. In fact, I probably started the fire.”

“Then why don’t you quit?”

“I need a job.” You shrugged. “And they’re super understaffed so they give me a lot of hours. Plus, if I left, how would I see you?”

“We could hang out. Preferably not in a Dick’s sporting goods.” Peter suggested.

“That’s my favorite place to hang out.” You smiled. “Can I give you my number?”

“I mean, if you want.” Peter joked as he handed you his phone. You put his number in and handed it back to him.

“There. That’s my number.”

“It’s hot.” He said as he looked at it. He gulped and looked up at you, thinking you’d find that weird.

“You’re such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “You better text me.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.” You said and poked his chest. Peter stared at you for a moment as a smile tugged on his lips.

“Would it be weird if we kissed right now?” He asked you.

“Yes.” You scoffed. “You’re covered in blood and gravel.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He blushed in embarrassment and nodded his head. You cracked a smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. Peter felt love in that Dick’s Sporting Goods that night. It was all around him. The kiss ended sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was still perfect.

“Hey, you did it anyway.” He smiled in surprise.

“Yeah, well. I wanted to.” You laughed shyly and kept your arms around his neck.

“And then she kissed me anyway. And she got Neosporin all over her face. And my blood! It was insane, Ned. I wish you could’ve seen her with the lacrosse stick. She destroyed so much store property. It was incredible.” Peter jumped in excitement as he recanted the story to Ned the next day.

“You had your first kiss in Dicks sporting goods?” Ned whispered in awe.

“Uh huh.” Peter nodded.

“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked as he stuck his head between Peter and Ned.

“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and gave Ned a look.

“Peter kissed the hot Dicks cashier.” Ned blurted.

“Ned!” Peter whispered harshly. “Why would you tell him that?”

“You kissed Alejandro?” Flash gasped and looked jealous.

“What? No. Who even is that?”

“I know all the Dicks sporting goods employees by name. I’m in there all the time buying golf and tennis and bad mitten shit because I’m rich as fuck. If it wasn’t Alejandro, then who was it?” Flash questioned.

“Her name is Y/n. She works the closing shift.” Peter told him.

“Wait, the one with the rebellious gleam in her eyes? No way you kissed her.” Flash snorted. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months.”

“Really? Because I got it last night.” Peter replied with a shrug.

“And a smooch.” Ned added. “On the mouth.”

“He knows where, Ned.” Peter whispered without taking his eyes off Flash.

“There is no way in hell that Penis Parker was macking on a hot cashier. And at Dick’s sporting goods no less.” Flash laughed loudly, drawing the attention of students passing by.

“It’s true.” Peter insisted. “And I don’t care if you believe me or not. Because I know it’s real.”

“Wow. You hear that, everybody? Penis Parker has a fake girlfriend!” Flash shouted in the hallway. People stopped to laugh and point at Peter, making him turn red.

“What? No I don’t.”

“He’s pretending he had a girlfriend who works at Dicks Sporting Goods to make up for the fact that no one will ever touch his dicks sporting goods.” Flash said even louder.

“Oh my God. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Peter grumbled and Ned followed after him as he left. Once they were out of the crowd, Peter pulled his phone out and looked over your last conversation.

“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t texted me back in a while?” He asked Ned.

“Well what was the last thing you guys talked about?”

“We were in the middle of a conversation about the best Adam Sandler movie and she ghosted me.” Peter said as he checked the time. Your shift had definitely started by now and he knew you texted on company time.

“Is she working tonight?”

“Yeah. Closing shift.”

“So go visit her.” Ned shrugged.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Peter worried.

“She wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t like you.” Ned reminded him.

“I guess so. Okay. I’ll go see her after class.”

Once Peters last class ended, he pulled out his phone to call you as he walked in the direction of your store. You answered the phone but didn’t say anything.

“Hey. I was just thinking of you.” Peter said into the phone.

“Peter.” You whispered in a shaky voice. He could tell you were crying and froze in his tracks.

“I was planning on stopping by. Is everything okay?” He asked and quickened his pace in the direction of the store.

“No. I don’t think you should come in.” You said quietly. Peter stopped walking and felt his heart sink. You must’ve lost feelings after the kiss and didn’t want to hang out anymore.

“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem. I won’t come by.” He said and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

“But maybe your friend can come in?” You asked, making his senses tingle.

“My friend?” He asked and started towards the store again.

“Yeah. The ballerina.” You replied and he knew exactly what you meant. Peter stopped in an alleyway to throw on his suit before running towards the store.

“Are you in danger?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You said with a forced laugh.

“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Who are you talking to? Is that a phone? I said all phones in the bag.” Peter heard from your end of the phone. You hung up after that and Peter raced to the store. When he got there, he snuck in through the back and quietly made his way to the front. He found you behind the register with your hands up in the air as a man in a hulk mask stood in front of you.

“Hey, buddy. Let me guess. The last jock strap you bought was too loose you’re back for another one?” Peter said, making the guy whip around. That’s when Peter saw the gun in his hand and froze.

“Oh. My bad. I didn’t see the gun from behind.” Peter said and put his hands in the air. He made eye contact with you from behind the register and you mouthed that you were sorry.

“Why don’t you walk out of here and pretend you didn’t see anything, okay pal?” The man said as he pointed the gun back at you.

“Sorry sir, but I can’t do that. You see, I’m quite taken with the cashier you’re holding at gunpoint here.” Peter said and pointed to you. You let out a short laugh as tears fell down your face.

“Good. Then you can watch me blow her head to bits.” The man said and took a step towards you. You let out a little squeak in fear and shut your eyes.

“Can I convince you to reconsider? She’s got a great head. I’d hate to see it get blown off.” Peter said calmly and slowly made his way towards the man.

“I said you could take the money. Just take it and leave.” You pleaded with the man.

“There was only $36.62 in there. I didn’t rob store for less than 40 bucks.” The man shouted at you.

“No one uses cash anymore.” You whimpered. “It’s all Apple Pay.”

“Then tell me the combination to the safe.” He yelled and tightened his grip on the gun.

“I don’t remember it.” You cried. “I don’t listen when my boss talks to me.”

“You’re lying! I know you know.”

“Why would I lie? You think I’d risk my life to protect this store? I hate this store. It’s so stupid. Why is it called Dick’s? Who is Dick?”

“She’s making some excellent points.” Peter agreed.

“Both of you shut up! Give me the combination to the safe now or I’ll shoot you both.”

“I don’t know it!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know the address to this place.”

“You think this is funny?” The man asked and took a step closer to you to the gun was pressed against your forehead.

“Not right now but I probably will later.” You answered honestly.

“That’s it. You’re dead.” The man said and cocked his gun.

“No!” Peter exclaimed as he dove towards you. He knocked you safely onto the ground while the man shot him three times in the chest. You screamed as Peter fell to the ground in a thud. You were about to reach for him when he jumped back up on his feet.

“Just kidding! It’s bulletproof.” Peter said cheerfully as he shot a web at the man’s gun. He yanked it out of his hand and threw it to the side before shooting two more webs that stuck the man’s arms to his sides and glued his legs to together. The man fell to the ground and tried to break free, but was unsuccessful. Peter shot one last web at the man’s face before pulling his mask off. He turned around to ask you if you were okay and was immediately met by you throwing your arms around him. He pulled his mask off before hugging you back tightly until your breathing calmed down.

“How did you know you were bullet proof?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“I didn’t.” He admitted. “I just knew that you weren’t.”

You pulled away to stare at him in disbelief, almost looking angry with him for risking his life for you. Your angry expression melted into a look of awe.

“Thats hot.” You said and threw your arms around him to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and held you tighter, only breaking apart when you needed to catch your breath.

“Do you kiss all your local cashiers like that?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He chuckled. “Just you.”

“Good. You better keep it that way.”

Peter smiled and pressed his forehead against yours as you both calmed down from all the excitement when a thought crossed his mind.

“Did you really not know the combination to the safe or were you protecting the store?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Are you accusing me of risking my life to protect Dick’s Sporting Goods from a robbery?” You pretended to be offended and put your hand over your heart.

“No. But I am accusing you not telling that guy the safe combination just to mess with him.” Peter replied. A smirk crossed your face as you went over to the safe and put in the combination.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for a bit.” You said as you pulled the safe open.

“I knew it.” Peter laughed and shook his head.

“I was planning on telling you something tonight. You know, before I got held at gunpoint by a man shorter than I am.” You said as you walked back over to Peter.

“Oh really? What?”

“They’re making me store manager. That means you can get all the free spandex and gummy worms you want.”

“No way.” Peter grinned. “They promoted you?”

“Kinda.” You waved your hand. “The last store manger went to jail for insider trading and I’m the only other employee over 18.”

“But still! I’m so proud of you.” He said and scooped you into a hug.

“You know, when they promoted me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” You admitted. Peter pulled away to cup your face and smile at you.

“I’m honored. No one in this shamble of a store deserved it more than you.”

“I can make my own hours now because it’s my job to make the schedule. So let me know when you want to go on our first date that isn’t in a Dick’s sporting goods.” You smiled teasingly.

“I will.” He smiled back before getting serious. He blew out a breath and looked you in the eye.

“Dick’s girl, I have so enjoyed our time together. Would you maybe want to be my girlfriend maybe?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Maybe I would.” You shrugged. “But only if you never call me “Dick’s girl” again.”

“I can definitely do that.” Peter nodded and kissed you again. The kiss was interrupted by the sound of cops pulling up in front of the store.

“Cops are here. I gotta go.” Peter said apologetically and pulled his mask back on.

“Bye, Spiderman!” You waved at him as he walked towards the front door.

“Bye, Dick’s girl!” He shouted back before swinging off into the night.

“What did Spiderman just call you?” The police officer as he walked into the store.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure

@a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23

@geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow

@thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174

@unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl

@marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke @thestylestour

@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @parkerlovebot

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

2K notes · View notes

feeder86 · 1 year ago

Text

Selfish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life had to change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ryan raised his beer and they drank to that sentiment.

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

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

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

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

“Your first chubby chaser!” Jack laughed wickedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dude!” Jack grumbled. “Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no going back.

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

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

“Um, no,” Ryan nodded. “Not so much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

834 notes · View notes

acesofspadess · 4 months ago

Text

Teamwork

Ace Giovanelli

The Mexico GP brings up more questions than she could answer

warnings: cursing, talks of crashing, max and lando (they need a TW themselves)

Post qualifying conference

“Welcome to the post qualifying conference…”

Soon after questions were asked from the floor…

"Question for Lando,” someone said, “How do papaya rules take place tomorrow being in the same row with Ace?”

Lando shrugged, lifting the mic, “They don’t.” He said dropping the mic, saying he was done with that question and every further one that someone may have wanted to ask.

~~~~

The morning of race day Lando and Ace were walking hand-in-hand water bottles in the other as the walked with Rachel who was interviewing them. Ace was finishing her answer when Carlos walked by and ‘dick-tapped’ Lando who buckled into his girlfriend.

Ace and Rachel both laughed as Ace yelled after him, “That’s my job, Carlos!” Which got a laugh from him and Lando who had once again paused leaning into his girlfriend. “He got you good there didn’t he?” Rachel asked and Lando chuckled. “Karma.” He said, making Ace laugh, “That’s what you get for starting it.”

~~~~

Ace and Lando stood next to each other by Ace’s car having their pre-race talk as always, they were shorter on time so their helmets were half way on.

“How do you always look so good in fireproofs” he murmured, leaning close so only she could hear.

Ace’s laugh came as she shook her head, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Lando, if you don’t stop flirting on the grid, I swear I’m telling Zak,” she teased, though the grin on her face was undeniable.

“Oh, come on. I’m just giving you a little pep talk before the big show,” he replied, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

“Yeah? Well, here’s your pep talk—don’t go doing anything stupid against Max,” she said, her tone serious but soft, knowing the heat of the fight ahead. “Just… be safe, okay?”

He glanced away toward the Red Bull on the front row, then back to her, nodding. “I will. But you know I’ll do what I have to,” he replied, a flicker of determination in his gaze.

Ace sighed, torn between frustration and understanding. She knew it was the sport, the competition, but every time she was reminded, her heart twisted. Still, she gave him a small, supportive smile. “Then go on, show them what you’ve got. I’ve got your back.”

He squeezed her hand quickly before stepping back, flashing her one last smile before they turned to their cars, ready to chase the thrill of the race.

They stayed in their order through turn 1 until Carlos went off track and had to give his position back to Max.

“Safety Car is out Ace, VCARB and a Williams in the back.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is out of the cars.”

They were under the safety car until Lap 7 and then they continued to race. Ace was close to Lando but wasn’t able to pass him. Carlos took the lead back from Max a few laps later but Ace was still chasing the three ahead. Lando was getting closer to Max and when he went for the overtake Max forced him off the track causing Lando to drive through the grass.

“Lando was ahead at every moment, Max forced him off. He’s going to end up in a wall!”

“Yep, we’ve seen it.”

“Tell them to look at my onboard, it’s very visible.”

“Head down Ace.”

Lando gave Carlos his position back but the fight between Max and Lando wasn’t over as Max went back for the overtake taking them both off track.

Verstappen throwing it to the inside- BOTH are off! Extraordinary! Elbows are out, brawling between the two of them- and Ace Giovanelli takes advantage to get up to second position, how about that!

“What the fuck is going on infront of me?!”

“Yeah Ace, working on it, P2. Head down.”

For the viewers at home who aren’t well versed, that was Ace Giovanelli, Lando Norris’ teammate and girlfriend.

Ace is always vouching for him, the two of them are duo you don’t want to mess with.

Never get on Ace’s bad side, especially when it comes to Lando.

But even when it’s not Lando, Ace is always on her radio saying what it is and what it should be.

You gotta love her, she never fails to make the race interesting.

Ace was gaining very well on Carlos, and without getting into an accident, but managed to get very close.

“Closing the gap, please be careful.”

Ace backed off slightly but enough to keep Carlos in her sights.

“Verstappen now has a 20 second penalty.”

“Then why the fuck is he still behind me?!”

As we said earlier, always a good race when Ace is on the radio.

She brings up a good question, Max knows he was in the wrong, and held on and still holds onto that third place position…

A few more laps just holding position came and went until Rupert was back in her ear.

“Lando behind, Verstappen in pit.”

“I’m not even going to say anything. Gap?”

“6.3”

Ace was losing time to Carlos ahead of her. His pace was just much faster than hers. Lando boxed behind her on lap 30 and she understood why, but she was still in the race. She was boxing a few laps later…

“Ace, pitlane.”

…but so did George, which meant she kept her position in P2. but she was now 31 seconds behind Carlos.

Carlos boxed, a lap later.

“Gap?”

“8.5”

She looked in her mirrors a few times confused.

“Gap behind, you muppet.”

“4.8.”

Papaya like Papaya.

Everyone is a Lando and Ace fan, even if you don’t like McLaren, chances are you love Ace and Lando.

The laps got tricky as she was too far from Carlos to race, but too far from Lando to defend. Tire’s were her number one priority.

“Lando closing, 4.3. If you can push, push.”

She did start to push, and did so very well for around 10 laps. She saw Lando on the big screen during the straight and a feeling she hated hit her hard. This is racing, you need to be selfish. She tried telling herself. Lap 60 she looked at her dash.

“Lando behind, in and out of DRS, you are free to race.”

The papaya’s once again are going racing!

Ace continued racing, continuously checking her mirrors to see the gap behind.

“10 laps left, bring it home.”

Ace wondered if she would look back on today's race, how she would feel. What would it look like? How would it change her future?

At this pace, if Lando is fighting for that second place position, it will be down to the final lap, Ace’s pace is just faster than his -AND ACE IS SLOWING DOWN! What is she doing?!

“Ace, you are free to race.”

“I’m well aware.”

She waited for the main straight knowing Lando was in her DRS and shifted to the inside watching him pass.

Ace Giovanelli has LET her teammate pass her down the main straight! There were no team orders, no communication on any end! How have we gotten here?!

“Yeah don’t say anything.” She said before anyone could get on the radio. She was so far from George, she knew the rest of the race would just be for maximum points.

We need to talk about what just happened in McLaren. Ace moved out of the way on her own.

Ace has stayed in that second position since Max and Lando went fighting in those early laps, there is no reason for her to pull away now versus later in the race. He has no chance at taking on Carlos.

Which makes us ask even more questions. She’s still within enough time to take that position back from Lando, and she’s just taken the fastest lap. I can’t wait to hear the post race interviews.

More laps passed and Ace saw the number get closer to the end.

“Leclerc pitted for fastest lap, how do you feel about going for fastest lap on the last lap? Tire’s are still good.”

“Yeah, leave it to me.”

Ace built a healthy gap to Lando, trusting her car and tires before pressing on the throttle with as much force as she could muster.

…And Ace Giovanelli is setting purple sectors, rapid sectors, to give McLaren a double podium finish and a point for fastest lap for the constructors that is now between McLaren and Ferrari! That’s a podium finish for Giovanelli, a fastest lap, and the the point that comes with it! What. A. Race.

Ace waved at all the fans as she did her podium lap. As she pulled into the makeshift podium parc-ferme she heard Rupert again.

“P3 Ace, good teamwork out there. You did get fastest lap. Thank you for an amazing race.”

“Yeah thanks everyone for a good race, I know our priorities. All points are good points.”

Ace stopped the car, unbuckled, got out, waved at the uproar of people around her before tackling Carlos. “Carlitos!” She yelled, pulling her visor up as he spun her around. “You deserved this!” She shouted over the roar of cars and fans. Carlos hugged her again and they stumbled when Lando joined them. “Well deserved, muppet!” His helmet and balaclava were already off.

Carlos shook both of their heads before walking off towards his team. Ace and Lando walked behind him to the podium stands as she took her helmet off then her balaclava off lethargically. “I can breathe again.” She laughed, putting her helmet down and stuffing her gloves and balaclava in it.

“Why did you do it?” Lando asked as she chugged her water. “No one else may believe you’re still in the fight. But I do.” She told him before getting called over for the interview.

“Ace Giovanelli, podium. I know it was a difficult race , you had to manage temperatures at the beginning, and then towards the end there. How difficult was the race for you?”

“Ehh, it was a difficult one. The first stint was all about trying to manage the temperatures which was kind of difficult, but uh, yeah at the end we did the best race we could do. Carlos was just ahead the entire race. He had an amazing race, but yeah, it was a good weekend for the team, overall it was positive.

“You managed to get the fastest lap at the end, was that the intention with letting Lando pass you?”

Ace fixed the neck strap as she listened before answering. “Uh, no. It wasn’t.” She chuckled, “I let Lando through because he’s fighting for something I’m not, that’s really all there is to it. There isn’t a need for team orders when it comes to the obvious stuff.”

“You took the fastest lap away from Ferrari. How does knowing Ferrari is closing in on you in the constructors feel?”

“It’s exciting.” She said honestly, “No one joins racing for the easy way through. Lando and I have good pace, we have a good team, we have a good car and we’re ready for the fight.”

“Thank you Ace, and congratulations on the podium.”

“Gracias Mexico!” She said waving while walking off.

Ace stayed for a bit of Lando’s interview….

“...and what are your thoughts on Ace letting you by?”

“Uh yeah, Ace is an important part of our team. She’s brought a lot to the team. You have to be selfish in this sport and knowing she gave up her points and position for me anyway, it’s not something a lot of teammates would do, when we’re on track we aren’t dating, we’re racers and that says a lot on who Ace is as a person and as teammate.”

“She said that you were fighting something she’s not, is that something you’ve spoken about beforehand considering Ace is closer to you than you are to Max?”

“No, we've never discussed Ace giving up her position in this race or any race for that matter. We were told to race and Ace did what she did.”

She was pulled away by her personal team to take pictures- what she assumed Lando was doing when she was being interviewed- before going up to the cooldown room. Her highlight of her and Carlos fighting for a few laps played on the screen. “I thought I had it on turn 4, I was ready but Carlos was just..” She whistled, “But your pace at the end was crazy!” She perked back up. “The wind changed, that’s why they asked you to go for fastest lap.”

“That was the safety car then?” She pointed at the replay and they watched the VCARB and Williams until Lando and Max’s battle played. “Ahh!” He groaned watching him run off the track. “I think I cursed Rupert out when that happened.” Lando chuckled at the second fight and Ace shook her head.

“Carlitos!” Maia laughed as he came in. “What was your tire deg?” He asked immediately. “Wasn’t bad at all actually.”

“You switched to the hards before me no?”

“Maybe a lap before. I think they lasted because I didn’t have to fight off George. That is probably why I managed to steal that point from you, Scarlets.” She pulled his hat over his face.

“Ai!” He said trying to fight her for her hat but she got up to get her water. They spoke about nonsense for a little longer before they lined up for the podium.

Ace walked out waving as she stood on the farthest and shortest step. Maia watched with a laugh as Carlos was raised slowly up by the hydraulics.

After the national anthems and the trophies Ace and Lando looked at each other nodding and shook their bottles hitting Carlos from both sides as Ricky went for Ace and Lando and Carlos tried his best to get them back.

He ran to spray his teams as Ace and Lando shook champagne from their faces. They clinked their bottles laughing, before Carlos sprayed them from behind and they both shook their bottles spraying him again and Ace knew that that picture was getting clipped.

They took their photo on the podium before walking off messing with Lando and Carlos.

“Hey Ace, a massive race for you today, P4 to P2 then finishing in P3. How was the race for you?”

“Yeah, it was a really good race. We got the maximum amount of points we could have today, Carlos was just at another pace than we could have ever managed. I think for the team it was a great race, we had a much better car than we thought we would have and yeah I can’t complain about much.”

“You gave your P2 up for Lando can you tell us a bit more behind that?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but I knew points wise for the team it would have been the same. Lando didn’t have the pace to catch up to me, for no matter of his own I’ll disclaim, but as I said earlier, Lando is fighting for something I’m not and it felt too selfish to keep that from him, dating or not.”

“And how do you think McLaren is going to do in Brazil next weekend?”

“Every weekend is up for debate. We just have to keep our heads down and put everything we can into every race we have left.”

“Thank you Ace.”

“Cheers.”

~~~~

“A very warm welcome to the top three finishers of the FIA Formula 1 Mexico City Grand Prix. In third place Ace Giovanelli…” Ace wasn’t even paying attention to the introduction as she finished her conversation with Carlos.

The conference was mainly about Carlos, which Ace thought was rightfully deserved. “...it was an important P2 for you today, just how pleased are you with today’s result?”

“Very, very pleased. Um I’m happy, with P2, normally I wouldn’t be, but given the circumstance of how I got here. I can’t complain.” He chuckled looking at Ace who nodded her head shortly teasingly.

“Yeah Lando, you say the second stint was easier but your pace was still off Ace’s, what was going through your head when you saw Ace slowing down?”

“I thought her car failed to be honest.” He laughed and Ace rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “I was like, ‘oh no, what happened, am I next?’ but then I saw her come up behind me and knew we would have to talk after the race.”

“Ace can we come to you now? P3 completes a great day for McLaren. Can we get your take on the race first of all.”

Ace lifted the mic up, “Yeah, I mean all in all it was a positive weekend for McLaren. Maybe not for us personally, Carlos has been strong from FP1 and until the last moment of the race. For myself. During the race I felt I was relatively quick, having a few moments with Carlos, which I hear he did not like-” she nudged him having heard his radio- “but at the end it was it was and I’m very happy for McLaren, very happy for Carlos, he deserves it more than anyone this weekend.

“You’ve probably answered this many times already, but can you tell us what your thinking was behind giving up P2?”

“I don’t think I ‘gave it up’. That makes it sound as if I went for a cruiser, I didn’t.” She chuckled with a shrug. “Thoughts wise, a lot. I wanted to be selfish, get P2 under my name again, but it felt almost too selfish when I’m not fighting for a title, I’m only fighting Charles, and finishing ahead of him is my only goal. As a teammate it felt like the right thing to do.”

“Do you think Lando would have overtaken you if you didn’t let him pass?”

“Uhh,” She paused, thinking about the pace and gap. “Based on the information I was receiving, I don’t think he would have, which is why I did what I did.”

“OKay, let’s open this to the floor.”

Ace was used to getting the least amount of questions when it came to him and Max anywhere close to each other.

“Question for the two McLaren drivers, congratulations on today, you’re both in very good form and McLaren has continued the form through the second half of the season really. How hard are you trying to keep Ferrari away from taking the constructors from you? And are you somehow surprised that you’re now fighting Ferrari and not Red Bull considering how the season has been for all three teams?”

Lando nodded to Ace to go first, “I mean yeah, we’re fighting hard. That’s what we're here to do. I have confidence in Lando and I will continue performing like we did in Singapore, Baku, and Zandvoort. As far as who we are fighting, I don’t think it matters all that much. A fight is a fight.” She shrugged with her hands and Lando chuckled.

“What she said.” He pointed with his famous smile.

“Question for Ace, when you went through after Max and Lando went off, did you say anything?”

Ace leaned forward, “Sorry can you say that again?”

“When Lando and Max went off track and you passed them, did you say something to yourself? Where you worried that you may have been apart of a collision.

Ace leaned back as she registered the question. “Oh um, yeah of course. Being behind those two is always stressful, you’re always gaging whether you need to speed up and get out of the way, but when that happened I think I said, ‘what the fuck is going on there.’ Oh sorry-” She laughed but then realised what she said and gasped.

“Oh no.” She threw her head back and hit a hand to her hat. “I don’t want to join Max in community service. I was the one who told him how to loop hole it.” She laughed and Carlos and Lando laughed with her.

“You better enjoy it.” Carlos teased making hr laugh more. “Uh yeah, then-

“Beep.” Lando sang teasingly making her chuckle. “Yeah after that I went after Carlos but he was far ahead of me at that point.” She put down the mic with wide eyes looking at Lando.

“Question for Ace. That’s twice you’ve taken advantage of Max and Lando, do you think that the fight is going to the very end, and will be a threeway? Or do you expect to be the clear winner”

Ace raised her brows at Lando as he giggled. “I mean, if they take each other out then you have your answer.” She laughed as Lando rolled his eyes jokingly. “It’s more of a fight between Lando and myself than Max and I. In reality I don’t think about the driver’s championship, I like to think realistically. They would have to have very poor weekends, and I would have to win every race from now on, it’s just not realistic. I just have to focus race by race for the team.”

With one last question to Carlos the conference was over and Lando took her hand as always but she got pulled to the side for her comment and managed to get a way with a warning.

Carlos had invited them both to dinner and a club that night, Ace knew Rebeca and her would magnetise to each other as Lando and Carlos did. Dinner was nice but Ace loved the club, summer was too long ago for her.

In the club’s neon lights, Ace and Lando moved together, laughter filling the space between them. He spun her playfully, nearly losing his balance when she pulled him back to dance close. Next to them, Carlos and Rebeca were trying to keep up, Carlos’s dance moves were still put together with how much he had to drink. Rebeca was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath, holding onto Carlos to keep him from tripping over his own feet. The boys switched partners and Ace laughed in Carlos’ arms.

“Maybe we should have cut you off at dinner,’” Ace teased, earning an exaggerated groan from him.

“Don’t listen to her,” Rebeca laughed, as they switched again, “you’re doing amazing… at whatever this is.”

Lando grinned, pulling Ace closer as the song switched to a slower beat, his hands finding her waist as they moved together. He leaned in, voice low, “You know, I think we could make our own dance floor later… somewhere a bit more private.”

Ace rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t fight her smile. “Lando! There’s a time and a place!”

“Oh, come on,” he whispered, grinning, “I’m just making sure my best moves are saved for the best dance partner.”

She laughed, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Behave, or Carlos might try to copy you!”

Carlos, catching the end of her sentence, lifted an eyebrow. “What are we copying now? Lando’s... moves?”

“Trust me, Carlos,” Ace said with a smirk, shooting Lando a knowing look, “you’re better off not knowing.”

acegiovanelli posted

liked by carlossainz and other

acegiovanelli Muchas gracias Mexico! Another podium to celebrate before Brazil! Te amo Carlitos! Well deserved (even if you didn't like me racing you)

@/carlossainz @/landonorris @/iamrebeccad

view comments

carlossainz you got to close!

acegiovanelli wimp

iamrebecccad 🥰🥰

norelli45 here for this dump! carlandace content we deserve

landonorris you stole my picture

acegiovanelli it was on my phone... my phone, my pic

landonorris YOU AREN'T EVEN IN IT

acegiovanelli don't expose the fact you didn't want your own girlfriend in the pic... 😬

landonorris don't start before I vouch for your community service

acegiovanelli sssshhhh you're supposed to be on my side!

mcpapaya54 oh he got you there

#lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x black!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #lando norris #ace giovanelli #acesofspadess #ace writes

189 notes · View notes

bajibitch · 21 days ago

Text

Silly me - Clark Kent

"Your name?" The receptionist’ voice pulled you out of the shock you felt being at the infamous Daily Planet. You managed to say your name but it came out a bit shaky and he let out a soft chuckle. "You'll fit in great." The space you'd be working in was small like you expected but seeing the surrounding work spaces was a bit intimidating. It was easy to get distracted picking up pieces of the stories they chatted about but the dizziness that came with it was enough to remind you to focus. Where would you start, how was it that people found stories again?

“First day?” Looking up from your desk, you met a pair of enchanting blue eyes on a beautiful face. The smile he wore didn’t make it any easier to turn away. Your face was hot from the lack of preparedness, hopefully, he didn’t think you were forming a crush, it’d be embarrassing, he’d be right but you wouldn’t admit it.

“Is it obvious?” You thought you were playing it off well given that you managed to type out an exaggerated amount of the food article with little effort. “What am I doing wrong?” Surely an employee wouldn’t interrupt your work for nothing, or so you thought.

“Nothing, you seem to have it handled.” He eyed the screen with your nearly complete work. “I’m still cramming in yesterday's story.” His laugh was going to be in your mind later. Although it was short it managed to sound so wholesome and warming in the small time it had. “It’s just, I've never seen you around before.” His arm was resting on the computer monitor, if he was anyone else it would’ve irked you but he had good intentions so you’d ignore it for now.

“I started today, used to work at a different company in Oklahoma.“

“How was it there?” You considered offering him a chair to sit in since it felt as if he planned on hearing your life story.

“Given that it was my first job in journalism it’ll always have a special place in my heart, but I wanted to be somewhere more interesting.”

“You didn’t catch any stories?”

“Nothing worth mentioning, I did an article on food and the impacts of-” Nothing worth mentioning but I’ll list every one. You put a hand to your forehead as you cursed yourself for not catching the prattling sooner.

“Why’d you stop?” He took a glance around the office and stared back at you. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you sighed and went back to typing out your work. “I just have to finish this.”

“I’ll be out your hair then. It was nice meeting you… I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t get yours either.”

“Clark. Clark Kent.” You stopped your typing and locked eyes with him once again.

“Y/n.”

“Well, y/n, I’ll catch you later.”

The strange thing for you is that usually when people tell you that, they never meant it. It was more like an, I’ll see you should we meet again kinda ordeal, not a follow you out of the office kinda thing.

“What is it, Clark?” You turned to see him not too far behind. His suit seemed a tad too big for him but it added a soft look to him.

“Just checking in on you. How’d you feel about the job? It’s not too much is it?”

“You aren’t from here either, are you?” He tilted his head and his lips parted but nothing came out. “You’re nicer than plenty of the people I’ve met so far. Some of them get irritated from my smile alone.” That’s why you learned to hold a poker face, the city lost its charm rather quickly when you arrived. His shoulders dropped and his lips had its default curve that made him sweet on the eyes.

“I used to live out in the country too, but as much as they tried, they could never break my smile.” Oh, you had to admit by now that he was hard to hate, not that you ever did. His spirit was almost contagious, the smile on your face showing he already infected you, maybe a harmless work crush wouldn’t be bad after all.

“Ready to go?” The both of you turned to the woman who needed no introduction, her work spoke for itself, she was a bit of a celebrity herself. You were shocked to see him kiss her with no hesitation and looked away from the affection. It was clear he had no qualms with showing his love.

“See you, tomorrow.” Fuck my life. When you buckled yourself into the seat and began to drive away, you couldn’t help laughing at how naïve you were to think he wouldn’t be in a relationship.

#dc x reader #superman #superman x reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader

77 notes · View notes

xcaffeineandcuddlesx · 15 days ago

Text

♬ i bet on losing dogs - mitski, your best american girl - mitski ♬

- evening, the undercroft -

“do you… think i’m good?”

the question stuns me. it’s not perplexing, nor unsurprising, but i’ve never considered it. of course, objectively, i believe he’s good. he’s sebastian sallow, for merlin’s sake. headstrong and making sacrifice after sacrifice even if it’s not his own because he’s relentless, driven by love. he’s always had good intentions no matter how he achieved what he wanted. even if it meant lying to his best friend. even if that meant manipulating people like me. even if it meant killing his uncle.

“i’m sorry?” i ask in return, unsure if i heard it correctly.

how could i not? it’s silent otherwise. merely a low crackle of a fire in the undercroft’s makeshift hearth and a ticking clock somewhere, but it’s just us. I shift to face him more directly as we lounge on a sofa, the tall stacks of books and some miscellaneous homework long forgotten as we had drifted into thoughtful silence.

i can see the misery, though. his downcast eyes being filled with such despair, such conflict.

“please, i need you to be honest with me. am i good?… am i a good person?” his voice cracks and it’s a painful reminder that things weren’t supposed to happen as they did. not that either of us needed another reminder.

the end of our fifth year is coming too quickly to an end. the classes are becoming shorter, more of a blur as the days fade away like smoke in the wind. it’s disorientating and the disassociation we’re experiencing is weighing heavily on every aspect of our lives. most days, it’s like i’m floating through the halls, like i’m in a weird sensory deprived dream as the faces and voices turn unrecognizable, like muffled buzzing, not even sure of the day of the week. the o.w.l.s came and went, i think, and now the both of us are left wandering the castle, trying to pick up the broken pieces of our youth.

the students are ecstatic about the upcoming summer, and every mention of their plans gouges a small part of me out, carving deep until i’m hollow. i hear them talk over meals about their family’s summer houses or trips they’ve planned, the promises of exchanged owls and slumber parties. all the while, i’m being congratulated by faces i’m not even sure i’ve seen.

my first year introduced into a world of whimsy and i become the “hero of hogwarts”. most have no idea the things i had to do to earn such a title. it’s made me sick. physically, mentally, emotionally sick. the late nights, overloaded course work, expectations, favors, expeditions with classmates, watching the cruelty of poachers, raids, battles, trials, death threats from adults in full confidence of them knowing i’m only a student, the blood on my hands.

i couldn’t just stop it once i had begun. i couldn’t just return to safety behind the castle’s walls and resume classwork as though the safety of every man, woman, and child in the school, neighbouring towns, and highlands were at stake and i was the only one trusted to, expected to, and even capable of coming to the rescue.

i didn’t sign up for this. neither did he.

we weren’t supposed to face the world the way we did. we weren’t supposed to do the adult’s jobs, no matter how grown we believed we were. we weren’t supposed to be heroes, we were supposed to be kids.

that’s what we are; kids.

he’s just a boy. a crestfallen, scared, mournful, alone, and traumatized boy.

so now isn’t the time to define what “good” means or to explain that the world isn’t comprised of black and white or “good” or “bad”, but of horribly muddied shades of grey that are entirely up to perception. he doesn’t want to hear about the intricacies of morality. he wants to be reminded he’s still capable of being loved.

i can’t possibly look at him the same way. nor can he look at me the same he did at the beginning of the year. i’m nowhere near a saint, but perhaps our histories is what makes us perfect for each other. after all, the pot shouldn’t dare be the one to call the kettle black.

“of course you are, seb,” i attempt to soothe him, mustering as much emotion as i could. he nods, hearing what i said, but not as through he believed it.

the conversation was difficult to hold after that. i knew he wanted to say more. he wanted to repeat his offenses and for me to kiss away the worries anyhow. he wanted to remind me of what he’s done and push me away, to self sabotage his growth to have an excuse to hide away like a recluse without shame. he wanted- no, he needed more. he needed someone, now more than ever. he needed me. needed to be told he’s human beneath it all, that his blood bleeds red the same as everyone else’s and isn’t tainted black like he believes. he needs to be reminded that he not only can be loved, but that he is.

it’s been especially hard since ominis has left us to our own devices for now, needing a break to rationalize his life and choices. neither of us can blame him.

i feel… nothing. nothing at all and everything all at once. i’m spread thin. i’m doing all i can to be here for sebastian and still preoccupied with my own life and loss. professor fig died. he died and i know it wasn’t because of me, but if only i was a little quicker, a little stronger, a little wiser. if only, if only, if only. i knew him for only a few months, but he’s been paramount to my new life. he was a beloved teacher that truly dedicated his time to the betterment of his students. i feel that his avoidable death is pinned on me. i was supposed to a savior and his blood has stained my hands like all the others have. what good are my abilities if i can’t even save those that help me? what good are they if i can’t even maintain normalcy?

nothing has been the same. not me, not sebastian, not ominis, not anne, not the faculty, and certainly not my relationship.

we’re closer than ever, i suppose, but how close is close when each of our minds are wandering light years apart?

sebastian fiddles with the corners of the parchment he’s been toying with for the last hour. it’s another drafted letter for anne. an apology, first step towards reconciliation, a goodbye, self-justification, explanation, i haven’t any clue at this point with how many he’s written.

he’s defeated and solemn, like how you would expect a kicked puppy to look: vulnerable and strangely still trusting despite it all. he looks the part, too. his close are wrinkled, eyes are sunken and devoid of the typical glint of happy mischief, cheeks stained with hours of silent tears, hair tousled, his nose reddened from the constant weeping-induced nose running, and lips chapped from dehydration.

there’s no book that could ever teach someone to manage this type of pain, this level of compiled guilt and shame. we weren’t born with the know how on gluing the pieces back together one by one when your entire world falls apart.

so i do the only thing i know i can to help. i take the note from him and set it down, the ink having long been ruined with blotched mixes of tears and ink, and pull him into a hug.

the sound he makes, heart wrenching, is never one anyone would expect to hear from him. halfway between a choked sob and stifled breath, he lets his face fall on my shoulder and unashamedly breaks.

his body convulses, racked with forceful and raw barks of pain.

i have to blink away several tears myself as he crumbles, what little composure he had left tearing and ripping at the seams. the lump in my throat is hard to ignore as i fear it may strangle me soon. he grips at the loose fabric of my uniform where he’s hugging me, grounding himself to the only constant he has in his life right now.

with one hand making small strokes up and down his back, i use my other to smooth down his hair, holding him close to me.

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want to become a bad person,” he manages through shaky breaths and hiccups. “ca-can’t even go home now. haven’t got anyone else to go to.”

“i know, baby, i know.”

i couldn’t maintain a brave face for him and began to sniffle. we were a mess. holding each other and breaking down like the world was ending because for us, it was.

when it’s just the two of us, hero of hogwarts and brave (former) best duelist of the castle, we could let our facade fall away, knowing nobody else could truly grasp the weight on our shoulders. we don’t have to be a formidable duo when it’s just us. we don’t have to pretend like the other isn’t broken seemingly beyond repair.

i eventually lean back, letting him lay across me as he cries until my blouse is soggy. until he’s exhausted and limp.

i try to quiet my whimpering to not wake him, but i can’t help but think of where i’ll go after this. even if i do go back home, my parents wouldn’t understand, they couldn’t possibly.

i’m so different from the person i was merely a handful of months ago. my hair is shorter, poorly chopped after being singed too many times in battle, and my hands are rough with callouses and scabs. i’m unsure how much of my former self i still resemble. at the very least, i know that i have more skin covered in scars than i do freckles and that i have new muscle growth from the running, climbing, borderline parkour, and combat.

i definitely don’t think, act, or speak the same way i did before. i’m not the same bright and eager little girl my parents had proudly gushed over when i received my letter. i can’t go home like this and risk breaking their hearts. i can’t just resume my life like i haven’t done the things i’ve done.

i remember reading of a spell called “obliviate”…

not too sure what i want to do with this yet, but i have an idea of where it’ll go ! i have a bit more in writing, so it may become a mini series of sorts? i’m not sure how well i like this prompt, but i wanted to put it out there anyhow because broken seb is my emotional support animal rn.

please give any feedback and tips you have !!

there’s so much potential with both of their stories and i know angsty seb is popular, but there’s more to him than masked anger and guilt. he would be hardest on himself and begin a downwards spiral, searching for validation that he’s not as bad as he thinks he is.

don’t get me wrong, i love a good seb x mc that’s joyful and loving, but i also love to put characters into hypothetical snow globes and shake it real hard.

stay happy and hydrated,

xoxo ellie

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy game #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy seb #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #whump #whump writing #whump tropes #Spotify

42 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years ago

Note

Can you write something with caddie reader and Rafe going to the country club and booking her as caddie? thankss

Pardon my terrible golf knowledge...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The written duty of a caddie-girl is to carry the golf bag for the golfer. Although it sounds like an easy job, you are required to have a little golf knowledge…and let your mini skirt do the rest as people who golf at the country club are mostly men.

They won’t mind if you give them the wrong club as long as you giggle when you make a mistake or wear a short enough skirt. It’s pretty degrading and objectifying for women, but rich men give nice tips.

‘’I’m so sorry, Jeff. My alarm didn’t go off and my car wouldn’t start,’’ you explained in a rush to your boss, out of breath from running to the country club. ‘’It won’t happen again, I promise.’’

‘’You’re an hour late, Miss. Y/L/N. Your 9am client is waiting.’’ Jeff raised his eyes from his computer screen, looking at you with disappointment.

Shit. You didn’t think you would have a client so early in the morning.

‘’He specifically requested you for caddie, so save your apologies and excuses for him.’’

It must be Mr. Barclay. You’ve seen him sitting at the country club’s bar two days ago, drinking an old fashioned with a fellow club member. He always requested you as caddie. He said you reminded him of his granddaughter. You didn’t know if you should be flattered or disgusted.

You quickly dropped your personal stuff in your locker and headed to the golf course while rehearsing your apology monologue. It wasn’t in your habits to be late. Hopefully Mr. Barclay will be understanding.

When you got to the course, you searched for a silver fox, but instead you found a tall young man with a snapback and white glove in his right hand.

‘’There you are!’’ he said in exasperation, slinging his golf bag over his shoulder and walking to you.

‘’Rafe?’’

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. ‘’It’s Mr. Cameron for you,’’ he corrected with a shit-eating grin on his stupidly handsome face.

‘’You’re my 9am client?’’

Rafe hummed, his eyes scanning your body and smiling smugly when he saw your small skirt and tight polo. It hugged your curves in all the right places. ‘’Bet you were expecting some rich daddy, uh? I’m sorry to disappoint you.’’ He leaned closer, speaking the next words low enough so only you would hear them. ‘’If you want, you can call me Daddy Rafe.’’

You choked on air. Today was going to be a long day.

‘’Driver, please?’’ Rafe requested, when you arrived at the teeing ground.

You fished the right club from the bag and handed it to Rafe. ‘’Here.’’

‘’Thanks, babydoll.’’ He took the club and moved up to line it with the ball, and swung, his muscles flexing.

You both watched as it flew over a hundred yards in the air. Not bad.

‘’Where’s Topper?’’ you asked. ‘’You usually play with him.’’

‘’Not today. I had other plans.’’ Rafe gave you the club back. ‘’Shall we go find the ball?’’

You spent the next two hours walking along the steep cliffs and hills of the country club's golf course, watching Rafe swinging golf balls and showing off. Unfortunately, you didn’t care much for the sport. You were more interested in staring at Rafe’s muscles flexing and admiring how great his ass looked in those dress shorts.

‘’Want to have a try?’’

‘’Are you sure? I’ve never played golf before.’’

‘’You can do the next tee. I’ll show you how.’’

‘’Golf is more technical than it looks. You don't just swing the ball and hope for the best. There's a lot of factors to think about — the stance, posture, ball placement, and rotation all have to be considered for the perfect swing.’’

‘’First, the grip. Put your left hand at the top of the club and your right hand below the left,’’ Rafe instructed.’’

‘’Good. Now, the position.’’ He situated himself behind you and you tried not to shiver as his hands slowly traveled down your arms until they positioned themselves to cover your own, grasping gently. You could feel goosebumps rise all over your body as you felt his steady breathing on your neck, looking over your shoulder with ease. ‘’Place your feet shoulder width apart and the ball should be inside the line of the big toe of your front foot.’’ He pushed your right heel out with his own foot. ‘’And you gotta bend your upper body from the knees and the knees slightly.’’

So many instructions.

You leaned forward a little while keeping your feet in the right place. ‘’Like that?’’ you asked, not sure if you were positioned correctly.

‘’Bend a bit more.’’ Rafe stepped back with a mischievous smirk, his warmth leaving your back. ‘’More. More.’’ You had a feeling that the position was wrong, but did as told. ‘’Perfect.’’ He swiped his tongue over his lips and hummed, admiring the perfect view of your ass.

‘’And now I swing?’’

‘’Not yet,’’ he said. ‘’I’m enjoying the view.’’

You straightened up immediately, catching what he was doing. ‘’Rafe!’’ you hissed with a glare over your shoulder.

He was laughing smugly. ‘’Can you blame me?’’

‘’Can you guide me again? I lost the position because of you.’’

This time, Rafe won’t make a fool of you. This time, he’ll be the one who gets played.

You took a deep breath as he moved to stand right behind you and resumed the same position he had you in previously. A soft breeze blew and you got a whiff of his expensive cologne. It reminded you of those mornings you had woken up in his bed at Tannyhill, wrapped in his sheets and covered in his scent.

Shaking that thought from your head. Focus.

‘’You’re picking up fast,’’ Rafe encouraged behind you.

‘’Do I?’’ you asked, purposely wiggling your hips against his pelvis.

You heard Rafe inhale sharply in response, his grip on your hands tightening. ‘’If you kept doing stuff like that, I might just have to take you right on the golf field.’’

Please do, you almost let slip.

At the next tee, you ran into Mr. Barclay and one of your co-worker. He was one of the newbies and seemed to be struggling with the golf bag.

‘’Mr. Barclay, hi,’’ you greeted politely. ‘’How’s the course today? We’ve made new additions this year.’’

The older man greeted you back with a smile, then began ranting about how his caddie wasn’t as good as you at the job. ‘’I asked for you at the caddie shack, but I was informed my favorite caddie-girl was already booked.’’

Rafe stepped in, faking an apologetic smile. ‘’That would be because of me. My apology.’’

Mr. Barclay stared you down like you were a piece of meat and then shifted his eyes to Rafe, giving him a ‘lucky you’ kind of look before leaving with his caddie.

‘’Are your other clients all old perverts like him?’’

Most. ‘’He gives me good tips,’’ you said in defense.

Rafe pulled out his wallet, then stared you right in the eyes as he stuffed a crumpled hundred dollar bill inside your bra. ‘’I do too.’’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x you #outer banks #outer banks imagine

1K notes · View notes

frownyalfred · 5 months ago

Note

Long ramble incoming, so apologies in advance !!!

I know you’re a Batfleck enthusiast (as am I), so I’ve been diving back into some research on him. Since there isn’t a ton of material to fully flesh out his character, I always like hunting for new details. I’ve been a fan of him and BvS for years, but every now and then, I like revisiting things to see if there’s anything I missed or to find new perspectives.

So, I was browsing through Batman Wiki — not the most reliable source, I know, unless we’re talking Reeves-verse — but I came across something in the section about his personality that caught my eye. It said:

“In the 20 years of crime-fighting, Bruce Wayne became a psychologically damaged and almost sociopathic individual. And while Batman had a moral code to never kill, he changed his rules after the world was introduced to Superman in the destructive battle with General Zod in Metropolis…”

Now, here’s what bothered me: they’re saying Bruce broke his no-kill rule because of the Zod/Superman battle, but in my mind, it’s always been that he snapped after Robin’s death — which we later found out was Dick Grayson. That seems way more logical to me. Like, after everything Bruce had been through, losing Dick would’ve been the tipping point that shattered his moral code, and the Zod event just pushed him further into darkness...

What do you think about that?

This is something I've tried to parse both with some previous Batfleck posts and my room full of coral BVS series, so I appreciate you bringing it up! I agree, I've always disliked that the impetus for the Bat "going bad" in BVS is seen as Black Zero. If we're giving Snyder some credit, perhaps it's presented in a way such that Batman is already vulnerable/teetering on the edge of his own code, and the Black Zero pushed him over the edge into full-blown damage.

But yeah, the route I took in my own fic was that Robin's loss (I went with Jason, not knowing Snyder was thinking of Dick) was the start of the end for the Bat's moral code. There's a famous line in BVS, "There's a new kind of mean in him." Multiple characters discuss the new lawlessness the Bat has in encounters with people, but just like us, they're kind of puzzled how it relates to the bigger picture.

We the audience are shown, multiple times, why Bruce would be affected by Black Zero, and how this would bleed into Batman. We are then also shown Robin's memorial case, suggesting that it's all connected. Lex Luthor uses Bruce's loss to pit him further against Superman, multiple times. And yet, still -- Bruce's actions are only ever explained, on screen, by Superman and/or Zod. He doesn't even utter Robin's name. The closest we get is his conversation with Alfred in the Cave, where I think they mention the many losses over the years together, and how that bitterness seems inevitable to Bruce.

In my opinion, Snyder was doing a (kind of) clumsy job of linking Bruce's reaction to Superman to his own loss of Robin/other allies over the years in Gotham. I think this has more merit especially when we consider the "Martha" reveal, where he pulls back on his extremism upon reminder of the loss of his mother, the idea of forcing that on Superman, etc.

But. It doesn't come quite close enough to linking the two on-screen, explicitly, for it to truly explain Bruce's actions as the Bat. It suggests that Bruce was, as I said, teetering on the edge, and Superman's destruction pushed him over the edge. When I think, most viewers would rather view it the other way around -- losing Robin pushed him over the edge, and his viciousness when it comes to Superman is merely a consequence of that madness, that loss, that grief.

That's how I chose to explain it in my fic, at least. Bruce in BVS talks a lot about national security, about defense, about never being sure if you can fight off a stronger opponent. But his words ring hollow even to Alfred. Is this really about protecting the world from Superman? Batman's infamous contingencies don't really make an appearance in this movie; he barrels right into fighting Superman, at Lex's prodding, without much critical thought for why it's happening or what the consequences are.

I really like the first (adult) Bruce scene in the movie in Metropolis, and I think it does a good job of showing how loss of his employees can impact him. But losing Robin? Losing a child? I think that kind of grief and rage and madness would be far more convincing than what we see from Batfleck in the movie. It wouldn't even have to change much of his actions -- he would still brand people, beat them nearly to death, use weapons and lethal force he wouldn't before, all because there's no rules anymore without Robin.

It makes a lot more sense, and it would be instantly much more recognizable to Gothamites. "The Bat has a new mean in him [because he lost his Robin]" is far more compelling to me and I think would help make that lawlessness feel more in character. And it opens the door for the conflict with Superman, because there are no rules now, without Robin.

Anyway, sorry for the long response! Thank you for asking, I really enjoy digging into this point and as I've said, I kinda got really into a Robin-central BVS framework in my longer series, and it's been awesome re-writing it in that sense. So many more things make sense, through that lens.

#asks #bvs #batfleck #batman v superman #batman v superman: dawn of justice #batman #bruce wayne #dc #clark kent #myfic #theresurrectionist #batfamily #dick grayson #robin #jason todd #superman

76 notes · View notes

hotdaemondtargaryen · 7 months ago

Text

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED BY DECIDER MAGAZINE.

I THINK THE MOST WHOLESOME AEGON MOMENT EVER WAS WHEN SUNFYRE GREETED HIM BEFORE ROOK'S REST. KIND OF LIKE A DOG NUZZLING ITS OWNER. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE BOND BETWEEN AEGON AND HIS DRAGON AND WHAT IT MEANS TO HIM?

"I think you’ve just done it very well."

"I think it is like a dog and his owner."

"It was interesting."

"My dad was talking to me about how that scene was very touching and stuff."

And I was just like, 'You know what? You know what I felt when we did it on that day?'

"When the amazing puppeteers came over with the big, blue dragon head that would later be CGI-ed into Sunfyre."

"The way they were moving and breathing with this big piece of set was just like, it just reminded me of my dog, Ziggy."

"So, yeah, I fully leant into that and imagined it was him nuzzling me in the chest."

"And he’s sat with me right now, and that’s how it felt on the day."

"So, yeah, I’m glad that came across."

SUNFYRE IS CONSIDERED DEAD NOW IN THE STORY, BUT IN THE BOOKS, AT LEAST, A HUGE TURNING POINT FOR YOUR CHARACTER DOWN THE ROAD IS WHEN HE'S REUNITED WITH SUNFYRE. ARE YOU HOPEFUL THAT WILL INDEED PLAY OUT IN THE SHOW? AND WHAT DO YOU THINK A REUNION LIKE THAT COULD MEAN TO AEGON?

"Oh, we’ll see."

"Well, I’m not sure."

"I’m not sure."

"I mean, that’s not up to me either, is it?"

"But, yeah, that would be lovely."

"It would be lovely."

"I think it’s important for a dragonrider to have a dragon with them and have a companion in that sense."

"Yeah, there’s just that sort of extra connection, that sort of deeper connection that you have with your dragon, in the same way that you have with your dog, than with all human beings."

"Your dog knows so much more about you than most humans do."

"[Laughs] So, yeah, I think it’s the same thing."

WHEN I SPOKE TO MATTHEW NEEDHAM BEFORE THE SEASON BEGAN, HE HAD MENTIONED THAT HE HAD ALWAYS FELT THAT LARYS AND AEGON WERE CONNECTED IN THE SHOW AT LITTLE AEGON'S NAME DAY. NOW I'M CURIOUS. BECAUSE RIGHT NOW LARYS IS KIND OF AEGON'S ONLY FRIEND, WHAT DO YOU THINK IS BONDING THESE CHARACTERS FROM AEGON'S PERSPECTIVE?

"Yeah, I think there’s definitely common ground with Aegon and Larys."

"There’s now this shared experience of being, you know, physically impaired."

"This is something that Larys has had to live with his entire life, but it is very new to Aegon."

"So any advice or any talks or anything like that that Larys has to give Aegon, Aegon is listening to him."

"For the first time in a long time, he’s listening to somebody and trusting them."

"Aegon feels like Larys has Aegon’s best interests at heart."

"Yes, there may be some personal gains eventually, but for now Larys seems legitimate and like he will actually help Aegon help in his pursuit to survive and thrive."

"I was talking to somebody before about it, and I’m saying, out of all the bad options that are sort of laid in front Aegon at the moment, this seems to be the least damaging and most likely to help them survive a little bit longer."

YOU MENTIONED AEGON'S PHYSICAL IMPAIRMENT. OVER THE WEEKS, WE'VE SEEN JUST VARIOUS STAGES OF MAKEUP ON AEGON, AS HE'S BEEN IMMEDIATELY IN THE AFTERMATH, AND NOW HE'S BEEN IMPROVING. WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO DEAL WITH ALL THE PROSTHETICS? HOW DID IT CHANGE FROM WEEK TO WEEK? AND DID YOU HAVE A FAVORITE OR LEAST FAVORITE LOOK?

"I mean, for a start, it was an experience I’ve never had before."

"Being clad in all that prosthetic, it takes a lot of time."

"It takes a lot of patience from the artists themselves and a lot of skill."

"I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, you know, I get the easy job."

"I just have to sit there and have it put on me in bed."

"People are getting up at ridiculous hours of the morning and preparing everything even before I arrive."

"Then once I’m sat in the chair, they spend six to seven hours applying it."

"At which time, I get to fall asleep or read a book or listen to a podcast."

"I get the easy side of things, but, yeah, it’s definitely an experience I’ve not had before."

DID YOU SAY IT WAS SIX TO SEVEN HOURS?

"Yeah, sometimes."

"That’s my least favorite part of it, the amount of time spent in the chair."

"But also, it does get quicker as the healing process improves."

"For example, like the initial burns where the armor was being peeled out and you could see, you know, torso, arm, face, neck, all that… That was six to seven hours."

"Really raw burns."

"But as that starts to heal, we shaved a couple of hours off it."

YEAH, ONE DETAIL THAT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE IN THE FINALE WAS TO REVEAL THAT AEGON LOST A KEY PART OF HIS MANHOOD IN THE FIRE. SO AT WHAT POINT DID YOU KNOW THAT WAS AN ELEMENT TO HIS INJURIES? AND HOW DRASTICALLY DOES THAT CHANGE HOW HE SEES HIMSELF?

"[Chuckles] Yeah, yeah."

"What a shame."

YEAH, HIS POOR PENIS. I WAS LIKE, 'OH NO!'

"Understatement of the year! I first realized that was a part of his injuries in the read-through week."

"[Both laugh.] Around the table with everybody."

"So that was interesting."

"Actually, you know what? Who knows what he thinks?"

"I haven’t had that much time to think about it."

"I don’t think he’s had that much time to think about it in great detail."

"I don’t think a lot of his injuries have really sunk in yet because he’s been laying in his bed."

"I think they’ll really start — particularly once he starts moving around and using his body again and being physically more engaged in his body — that’s when he’ll start to realize what damage has been done."

"Yeah, I think that will all become clear as Season 3 unfolds."

"But, yeah, I don’t think he’ll be spending much more time in Flea Bottom."

I WAS JUST SPEAKING WITH EWAN, AND HE MENTIONED OFFHANDEDLY THE AMBIGUITY OF THE SCENE IN WHICH AEMOND PRESSES THE KING'S BALL FROM THE SMALL COUNCIL INTO AEGON'S CHEST. HE SAID IT WAS VERY AMBIGUOUS ON HIS END. DID IT FEEL AMBIGUOUS ON YOUR END? DOES AEGON CONCEIVE IT AS A THREAT, OR DOES HE SEE IT AS POTENTIALLY HANDING THE KINGSHIP BACK?

"I think, as Aegon, I just saw that as Aemond playing little sort of status games with him and trying to be threatening, but really just sort of… I’ve taken a personal dislike to Aemond."

"[Chuckles] Yeah, I think he’s a little weasel that needs punishing now."

WHEN I SPOKE TO YOU BEFORE THE SHOW CAME OUT, YOU MENTIONED THE PHILIP LARKIN POEM, 'THIS BE THE VERSE' INFORMING AEGON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS PARENTS. THERE IS THIS HEART WRENCHING MOMENT WHEN AEGON IS FIRST COMING TO AFTER ROOK'S REST. HE ONLY SAYS 'MUMMY,' AFTER ALICENT LEAVES HIS SIDE. CAN ALICENT STILL REACH HIM? DO YOU THINK THAT RELATIONSHIP IS COMPLETELY RUINED? AND WHAT DOES AEGON NEED FROM HIS MOTHER AFTER ROOK'S REST?

"I don’t think they really ever had a relationship to ruin, to be honest."

"There’s always been fractures in it."

"There’s always been a severe case of approaching things from totally different angles."

"Neither of them really have the tools or the know-how to give the other what they need."

AS A FOLLOW UP, HE LEAVES KING'S LANDING BEFORE RHAENYRA ARRIVES IN THIS VERSION OF THE STORY. SO HE HAS NO IDEA THAT ALICENT HAS BASICALLY BARTERED HIS LIFE OVER. DO YOU THINK HE WILL DISCOVER THAT HIS DEATH WAS PART OF ALICENT'S BETRAYAL? AND DO YOU THINK THAT WOULD FURTHER JUST PUT THEM AT ODDS?

"Yeah, of course."

"I think the writers are clever enough to pick up on those little details and to use those as ammunition."

"I mean, I hope so."

"That’d be great, wouldn’t it?"

"But then again, I’m not a writer, and those guys are absolutely phenomenal."

"So I will leave them to do that, and I’ll do my job."

YOU'RE NOT A WRITER, BUT DO YOU HAVE ANY HOPES FOR WHERE AEGON MIGHT BE NEXT SEASON? DO YOU WANT TO HAVE A BUDDY ROAD TRIP MOMENT WITH LARYS? DO YOU WANT TO GO TO ESSOS? IS THERE ANY AREA IN WESTEROS OR ESSOS THAT YOU REALLY WANT TO EXPLORE WITH MATTHEW NEEDHAM NEXT YEAR?

"Do you know what? Me and Matthew spend the majority of our time, if not all of our time on Season 2, in the studios at Leavesden."

"So I think we’re both just grateful for any opportunity we get to be on location, have some fresh air and see some new places."

"These beautiful landscapes that literally every other actor got to experience on Season 2, but we didn’t."

"So, yeah, anywhere that takes us away from the studio would be fantastic."

YOU'VE TALKED A LOT ABOUT HOW ROOK'S REST GIVES AEGON SO MANY PHYSICAL AILMENTS, BUT IT ALSO SEEMS TO CHANGE SOMETHING IN HIM. DO YOU THINK THERE'S ANYTHING TO A 'PHOENIX RISING FROM THE ASHES' METAPHOR THERE, WHERE AEGON IS SORT OF GETTING A NEW CHANGE TO ASSERT HIMSELF AS A DIFFERENT KIND OF LEADER, RULER OR MAN?

"Absolutely, Meghan."

"I think you’re absolutely right, for sure."

"The phoenix rising from the ashes is a great image, and I think that’s spot on."

"He becomes colder."

"He becomes more driven."

"He becomes less attentive to how people receive him."

"I think he’s in business mode now."

"There’s been too many people taking advantage of him and whoconsider him useless or ineffective."

"So, yeah, he’s now going to I think he’s now going to buckle down."

"That’s perceive him, anyway."

AND IS HIS ULTIMATE GOAL JUST THE IRON THRONE? OR DOES HE ALSO WANT TO ENACT REVENGE ON THOSE HE FEELS HAVE HARMED HIM OR NOT TAKING HIM SERIOUSLY?

"Yeah, I think he wants to inflict pain now at that point, and I don’t know if it will make him feel any better, to be perfectly honest."

"I don’t think revenge ever fully does give you that peace."

"He’s a man with nothing to lose."

"In the sense that, of course, he has the throne to lose, but it’s not really his throne to lose."

It’s much greater than him."

"You know, it’s his family name."

"It’s his pride."

"It’s his manhood."

"It is everything."

"Somebody has come and killed his child and then he’s been attacked by his own brother."

"You know, there’s nowhere to turn that’s safe."

"So, yeah, he feels very much like a one man band — with the added assistance of good Lord Larys Strong." [Chuckles]

77 notes · View notes

kikyoupdates · 1 month ago

Text

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑚𝑟. 𝑡𝑤𝑜-𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑑

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

previous | story masterlist | next

As if finding out that you were stuck in a yandere game wasn’t bad enough, now you also had to worry about that strange being that appeared to be watching over you.

They’d insisted that they had no intention of interfering with your life or hurting you, but knowing that they could be stalking you at any given moment was understandably nerve-wracking. Not that you could really do anything about it, though. Your very existence in this world was an anomaly, so you supposed you would just have to get used to strange things happening.

At the very least, you’d kickstarted your little survival plan by taking some sword lessons. It was rather unfortunate what would later happen to Sergei, but his death wouldn’t occur for a while, so you had ample time to focus on honing your skills. It was also important to remind yourself not to get too attached to him, since his demise was inevitable.

You had to admit that it felt kind of slimy having these sorts of thoughts. You’d never been the type to view others as expendable, but after what you’d already endured in your previous life, hadn’t you earned the right to a bit of happiness? Surely, you would be forgiven for looking the other way.

You would be... right?

Sighing, you quickly shook your head. There was no point in riling yourself up like this. You’d already decided that you would distance yourself from the game’s plot as much as possible. Apart from the presence of the yanderes, this was quite a lovely place to live in. You were going to keep your life on track.

“Is your training going well, my lady?” Lizbell asked, in the middle of folding some of your clothes into a neat stack.

“Well, I’ve only had the one session so far,” you shrugged. “And he didn’t even let me try out a real sword.”

“I know. But I’ve seen you running about in the courtyard and the gardens, swinging large sticks and such. It seems like you’ve been practicing on your own time as well.”

“Trying to, at least.” You pursed your lips, pausing before taking another sip of your tea. “Hey, be honest. Do I look completely ridiculous doing that? I know I’m still inexperienced, but everyone has to start somewhere, right?”

Lizbell bit back a chuckle. “I will admit that your form looks perhaps a touch unpolished, but your enthusiasm is unmistakable. Just like you said, so long as you practice, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t come more naturally in the future.”

“Thanks,” you grinned. “I’m glad you’re rooting for me. Oh, I know. If you want to help, how about we spar together? Neither of us really knows what we’re doing, so it’ll just be harmless fun.”

“Heavens no!” she cried out, paling instantly. “I could injure you by accident! Your parents would throw a fit if that happened. Losing my job would be the least of my concerns.”

“Why do you assume you’d be the one winning?” you grumbled.

“Anyways, it’s out of the question,” she dismissed. “I have no knowledge about such matters, and I wouldn’t want to end up hurting you. Please just wait patiently until your instructor comes by again. There’s no rush. You have all the time in the world.”

Well, not exactly.

Sure, you had time until the plot really started to get heavy, but you couldn’t afford to wait around for things to get bad. You needed to have at least some fighting skills handy, and the sooner, the better.

But obviously, Lizbell couldn’t possibly have known this type of thing. You were actually quite curious as to how any of the characters would react if you ever told them their actions had essentially been programmed a certain way, and they had no real will of their own. Then again, they probably wouldn’t believe you.

“Fine,” you said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll just keep swinging sticks around on my own. Hopefully Sergei has a pretty open schedule, because I’m really eager to learn how to wield a sword.”

“Of all the things for a young lady to take interest in.” Lizbell shook her head disappointedly.

“Someday in the future, women will fight in the military,” you told her matter-of-factly.

“My lady, sometimes your imagination really is a thing of wonder.”

“No, I’m actually telling the truth...”

She finished folding your clothes and tucked them into a drawer. “There. That should be good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m due out in town for a bit.”

“Going on a date?”

“Please,” she huffed, her cheeks flushing red. “I have no time for things like that. I’m just going to stop by the market and pick up some fresh ingredients for the cooks. If you require anything in my absence, any of the other servants will be more than happy to help.”

You perked up. “Can I come with?”

“Why, I’m not sure why you would,” she frowned. “It’ll be awfully dull. I’m just buying food and a few other supplies.”

“I’ll be bored while you’re gone. Apart from training, I don’t have much to do at home.”

It was the truth. Now that you finally had a healthy, capable body, you wanted to move around more. Go places, see new sights. Last time, you’d been unfortunate enough to run into Cassius, which had spoiled your mood for the day, but now that you’d calmed down and planned out your course of action, you were ready to enjoy a nice trip out.

Lizbell appeared hesitant, but she must not have thought she was in a position to refuse. “Well... if you insist. Be sure to speak to your parents first and get their permission. But it really won’t be exciting, I promise you. It might even be more boring than lying around in bed.”

“I doubt that,” you beamed. “I like going out! Plus, we can chat this way and you can tell me all about your love life.”

“Lady [Name], for the last time, I have no love life.”

“Hehe. Let me be the judge of that.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to end up regretting this,” she sighed.

Naturally, it wasn’t difficult to get your family’s permission. It was also important that you familiarized yourself with the city more. After all, this was your new hometown. You wanted to pick up on everything there was to know—all the best spots to eat, where to find cute clothes, and whatever other fun activities the kingdom had to offer.

A short, bumpy carriage ride afterwards, you were back in town for the second time. The weather was truly spectacular here. It obviously helped that it was summer, but you could swear the sun’s rays had some otherworldly effect. Or maybe this was just what it felt like to be healthy.

The town was a bit familiar, but somehow, also not. It looked different from the last time you’d seen it. Decorations appeared to be strewn up from streetlamps and across the awnings of various buildings. It was even busier than you recalled, and there were a multitude of strong, tantalizing scents wafting through the air.

“What’s going on here?” you frowned.

Lizbell pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing loudly. “Right. I’d forgotten that there was an event set to take place over the next couple of days. It’s going to be even busier than I’d expected. But if we wait until later to do our shopping, the freshest ingredients will be sold out.”

“An event?”

“I think it’s a food festival. They’ve brought in all sorts of people from various cities to set up shop here and sell their products.”

“Oh my god,” you said, drooling already. “Food.”

“That’s just even more of a hassle,” Lizbell muttered irritably. “Goodness. People are flocking all over the place trying to get their hands full. Let’s just hope that they're more swept up in the delicacies and aren’t paying as much attention to all the local ingredients. Come along, now. Quickly!”

Lizbell proceeded to drag you down the streets, like some sort of ragdoll. It was probably for the best, honestly. You’d have probably gotten distracted trying to sample all the food. Perhaps once you were done shopping, you could afford to take a break and indulge yourself a little.

Seriously, though, Lizbell really was something. She was frighteningly fast as she made her way around the market with lightning precision. She knew which route was the fastest and most effective, which grocers were most likely to have certain ingredients in stock, and not to mention that she was carrying rapidly-filling bags without so much as breaking a sweat.

“Maids are fucking cool,” you breathed out in awe.

Lizbell shook her head, still stuffing items into the bags. “My lady, please watch your language. People might get offended if you speak so crudely.”

“Um, okay. Can I help you carry anything?” you offered.

“Of course not. How could I make a lady do such a menial task? I’ll be just fine, thank you very much. Please just keep an eye on everything in case I drop something from one of the bags.”

“I can help,” you insisted, grabbing one of the bags despite her protests. The weight was unexpected, and made you hunch over when you took it into your hands. “Ugh,” you huffed. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so heavy. Are you secretly the Hulk, or what?”

“I’m not sure who that is.”

“A super tough, super big green guy.”

“Another joke,” Lizbell eye-rolled. “All due respect, Lady [Name], I don’t think a single sword-fighting lesson has drastically improved your strength. I’m used to carrying heavy things like this, so please, allow me.”

She proceeded to grab the bag back from you, and though you didn’t admit it, you sure were relieved that you wouldn’t have to walk while carrying that thing. Seriously, what did she have in there, bricks?

You decided it was probably easier for both of you if you just stayed put and did as she said. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like they were out of the ingredients she needed, which meant that the whole process was going rather quickly.

“I think that’s everything,” Lizbell said, proudly carrying several bulky bags in her arms.

She still wasn’t letting you help, so you just clapped encouragingly. “Whoo, go team! We did it! Er, I mean, you did it!”

“I appreciate the applause,” she laughed. “My apologies. You must’ve been bored just watching me shop around. Now that we’re no longer pressed for time, would you like to take a look at what they’re selling? It seemed like you were quite excited about all the different food.”

“Oh, I’d love that,” you nodded. Everything did smell divine. Since you were already here, you may as well pick out what you wanted and go home with a full belly.

“Well, go ahead,” Lizbell smiled. “Lead the way.”

You did just that, darting to and fro as you sampled items from different stalls. Everyone was so friendly and warm-hearted around here. Perhaps it was the fact that you’d spent so much of your previous life having tests run on you and going in and out of hospitals, but this was a kind of warmth that you were unfamiliar with coming from strangers. Even if you were new to this world, an outsider in the truest sense of the word, they made you feel anything but.

“Miss, do give our fruit tarts a try!”

“Would you like a scone? Fresh out the oven!”

“Here, grab a skewer! On the house!”

It could’ve been that they were just promoting their businesses, but their bright smiles and cheery dispositions were contagious. And obviously, the food was amazing. Every bite you took was an explosion of flavor in your mouth. You’d never get tired of eating delicious food after being deprived of it for so long.

“Hi there, young miss,” another vendor called out to you with a smile. “You must be getting thirsty in all this heat. How about a cold glass of juice to rejuvenate your spirits?”

“Yes, please!” you grinned. Lizbell had to sigh for the umpteenth time. Although she was all finished with her errands, you were definitely taking your sweet ass time sampling every other thing that was on display.

The vendor smiled again and passed you a small tasting cup. “Here you are. This is our most popular flavor. Please let me know if you like it, and I’ll pour you a bigger size.”

“Thank you!” You happily took a few sips, and as expected, it tasted delicious. It was certainly sweet, though crisp and with just a hint of sourness that was perfect for hot summer day. “This is incredible!” you gushed. “Oh, just a moment. Let me grab some money...”

You fumbled through your wallet while Lizbell set her bags down for a few moments and stretched out her arms. After procuring the correct amount of currency, you handed it off to the vendor and paid for another cup of the same juice.

“Okay,” you sighed contentedly. “I think that’s enough gorging myself for one day. Lizbell, I’m ready to head home. Was there anything in particular you wanted to try?”

“Thank you for asking, my lady, but I'm not too hungry right now. Shall we head back?”

“Alright!”

You turned, smiling widely and still with your cup in hand. What a great day this was shaping up to be. And what a lovely place this was, with everyone always so friendly and welcoming.

Spirits high, you followed behind Lizbell, only to immediately trip over your own feet and fall onto your knees.

“My lady!”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch...” You winced, feeling a nasty sting building up. You were wearing stockings underneath your dress, but you’d probably ripped them and skinned your knees during the fall. You’d also spilled your juice, goddammit. The juice that you literally just paid for.

Groaning, you stood up, only to find yourself staring at two men, one of which looked to be absolutely outraged.

At first, you didn’t quite understand why, but then you realized that there was a discernible stain on the front of one of the men’s shirts. A stain that was the exact same color as your spilled juice.

Oopsie.

You felt bad about spilling your drink on some stranger’s clothing, but when you took a moment to properly stare your victim in the face, your guilt was soon to be replaced with complete and utter dread.

Oh, fuck. This is worse than an oopsie. This is—

“Apologize right away!” one of the men cried out. It wasn’t even the man whose shirt was stained from your juice, but rather a servant, based on his attire. “You’ve ruined my lord’s state of dress, you bumbling fool!”

You honestly wanted to cry. Of course your luck was this atrocious. Otherwise, why the hell were you face-to-face with Lawrence Fleming, yet another one of the yanderes?

“Dominic, please,” Lawrence chuckled softly, waving his hand to appease the other man. “It was an honest mistake. She tripped and fell, and it looks like she even hurt herself in the process. Are you alright, miss?”

It had hardly taken two seconds for your face to turn pale. He was extending his hand out to you, probably because you were limping somewhat, but the thought of even coming in contact with him was so terrifying that goosebumps had formed all over your skin.

Lawrence Fleming. At first glance, he was a charismatic, benevolent man. But that was only on the surface. In truth, he was as two-faced as they came, saying one thing and thinking the exact opposite. His bad ending in the game had been one of your least favorites, and he was probably your second least favorite yandere overall, only because there was another one that was infinitely worse.

Why, oh why, did he have to be here right now? This kingdom was massive, so what were the odds that you would run into him after spending little more than an hour out here? This was seriously rigged.

“I’m very sorry,” you apologized, a hard lump having settled into your throat. This was far from ideal, but the last thing you wanted to do right now was to snub him outright and give him even more reason to resent you. Surely, he wouldn’t be terribly upset over such a minor offense, right? All you’d done was spill juice on him. It’s not like he didn’t have dozens of other outfits where that one came from.

The servant, Dominic, still appeared to be completely incensed. “Even a child is better coordinated than you. Is it your first time walking, or what?”

That struck a nerve with you, because the fact of the matter was, yes, you were uncoordinated, but only because you’d spent most of your life too weak to do any sort of physical activity too rigorously. In terms of athleticism, well, you had none. But that wasn’t your fault.

Most of the people in this city are so nice, but all of the yanderes and their posse are just the worst.

Still, you swallowed your anger and smiled pleasantly. “That’s true. I really am sorry. I suppose I’ve always been a bit clumsy.”

It was okay. All you had to do was smile and keep your calm. Not give Lawrence any reason to put you on his shit list. So long as you remained passive, then everything would be—

“Don’t speak to my lady that way!” Lizbell snapped. “People trip sometimes. It can’t be helped. How dare you berate her after she’s clearly hurt herself. Look—she’s even bleeding!”

Uh, Lizbell? Why are you picking a fight?!

Sure enough, you were bleeding, but with Lawrence right in front of you, that was really the least of your concerns right now.

“Oh dear,” Lawrence said, concern filling his expression. Although knowing him, it likely wasn’t genuine. “Are you sure you’re alright, miss? Do you need me to hold your arm and help you walk over to grab a seat at one of the benches?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” you insisted, hoping that your forced grin was somewhat convincing. “Uh, please don’t worry about it. It’s my fault for being so careless. Is there anything I can do to make up for staining your shirt? Can I pay for your troubles?”

Dominic narrowed his eyes. “Are you seriously implying that Lord Lawrence doesn’t have the money to afford to clean his own clothes?”

“What? No, that wasn’t what I was trying to—”

“Of course not!” Lizbell again answered in your stead. She angrily dropped her bags, placed her hands squarely upon her hips, then gritted her teeth at Dominic. “Lady [Name] was only trying to be courteous. My word! Where does a servant get off on treating a noblewoman with such disrespect?”

“Ha!” Dominic scoffed. “And yet you’ll allow her to repeatedly disrespect my lord? You must be out of your mind.”

“The only one out of their mind here is you. As I’ve already pointed out, my lady is injured! You are in no position to take that tone with her, especially when she’s in pain.”

Lizbell, please, dial it back a bit. I’m literally begging you...

The two of them were breathing down each other’s necks and practically foaming at the mouths. To be quite honest, it seemed like they were more wrapped up in their own little feud and had completely forgotten about the people they were supposedly defending.

“Pfft,” Lawrence chuckled. “It appears as though both of our servants are fiercely loyal. Neither is willing to give an inch.”

“Haha... ha...”

God, you wanted to get the hell out of here.

“My lord,” Dominic pointed, “this woman and her arrogant maid need to own up to their mistakes. Surely, you aren’t thinking of letting them get away with tarnishing your clothing and reputation?”

Lawrence pursed his lips. “That’s quite enough, Dominic. It was very clearly an accident.”

“But—But—you’re here to oversee that today’s events go well, and she’s ruined your appearance! What are you meant to do now?”

“I’ll just do this,” Lawrence hummed, blotting the stain with a napkin. It wasn’t really working that well, but you appreciated that he seemed ready to let this incident go. Yeah, it was just a bit of spilled juice. That Dominic guy was the only one making a big deal out of it.

“If there’s anything you’d like me to do, please just let me know,” you said. It was better to be safe than sorry. To show him that you were willing to take the blame, even if it really was just a stupid little accident.

Thankfully, Lawrence’s smile showed no signs of disappearing. “There’s really no need for that. [Name], was it? I apologize for Dominic’s rudeness. He can be a bit high-strung at times, but he means well. I really would like to spend more time making sure that you’re alright, but if you insist that everything is fine, then I should probably be on my way. I have to speak with some of the business owners here that are renting out their workspaces to the vendors who have come into the city.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, quickly bowing your head. “Once again, I’m sorry.”

“Haha. Please, no more apologizing. You haven’t wronged me in any way. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He left, with Dominic glaring daggers at you and Lizbell, up until both of them disappeared into the crowd.

The second they were gone, you completely deflated.

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Why me?”

“I concur,” Lizbell muttered, clearly still very much not over it. “That Dominic fellow has a screw loose. I can’t believe his lord allowed him to get away with such rude behavior.” She then looked you over, expression softening a bit. “That aside, are you alright, my lady? I don’t have any bandages with me to dress the wound. We should probably purchase some nearby.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured, but then you thought twice about it. Right. This was a much older setting than you were used to. If you somehow ended up with a nasty infection, you likely wouldn’t have antibiotics or other convenient medications to turn to. And if you got sick in an era without advanced medical technology, then... “Actually, never mind,” you said hastily. “It is quite serious. We need to get bandages right away. No chance in hell am I taking another trip to the hospital.”

“Another trip? My lady, you’ve never been admitted to the hospital before.”

“If only that were true...”

“Pardon?”

“No, nothing,” you sighed. “Let’s just buy some bandages and head home.”

You made a mental note to avoid going into town for as long as possible, lest your luck fail you again.

More chapters are available on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💞 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

33 notes · View notes