#it seems that the (relative) happiness i had around the start of this year was actually an anomaly and not the start of an upward trend

[freakingholland]

I need some fluffy Remus x f! Reader. Reader is a need-of-touch Person, plagued by the similar issues like Remus (insecurity/ anxiety, lack of self esteem, feeling of not deserving love & happiness, depression, and can be impulsive). History of bullying at school, family issues (fighting parents, mean relatives). On a very hard hitting depression day, Remus learns of her troubles, a friendship develops. Both afraid to „ruin“ it with their feelings. A deep cuddle part :)? Thank you very much!

"Let's stop pretending" - Remus Lupin x teacher!Reader

A/N: Hello! Thank you sm for this request! You didn’t specify if you want it to be older or younger Remus so I went with teacher Remus and teacher Reader – I hope you don’t mind! I loved working on this piece and I hope you’ll like it! Also this was my first time writing something so emotional so please go easy on me!

If you or anyone you know is struggling please consider seeking help. Here are some extremely helpful hotlines: 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988 (US) STAND! For Families Free of Violence crisis line: 888-215-5555 (US) National Domestic Abuse Helpline in the UK: 0808 2000 247 (UK) Crisis Services Canada Suicide Prevention Service: 1-833-456-4566 (Canada) Remember, you are not alone and things can get better. Virtual hugs - Tori xx

Summary: Sometimes the most influential people, the closest to one’s heart, get the worst of treatments. But true love will always shine through the toughest of times. And that’s what happened with Remus and his partner. (emotional hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, romance)

Warnings: not proofread! descriptions of low self esteem, depressive mood, descriptions of anxiety and worries, heartfelt confessions, teacher x teacher relationship.

Word count: 1.7K +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

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Sweaty, breathless. With a knot painfully tightening in your stomach. With an unrested mind, thoughts colliding with one another and blurring together. Was it the weight of your new function? Was it the memories of your own school years? The taunts, the whispers, the isolation - all of it suddenly felt too close, like it had never really left. But you shook your head, forcing yourself to breathe. In and out.

You were safe now—or so you told yourself. On the other side. Teaching, not being taught.

A bottle of water, your beloved quill, some chocolate, books. You nervously clutched your most needed belongings with trembling hands. You hurriedly skipped up the stairs towards your newly assigned classroom keeping your things close to your torso.

As you were approaching the top of the staircase you were greeted with a small smile from a man walking downstairs. One that you couldn’t help but return despite the tightness in your chest. A fellow professor – judging by the look of his robe. He was wearing a sweater that at first sight seemed just as soft as his gaze. His soft facial expression and scent briefly shook you from your overwhelming thoughts.

“Good morning.” he said calmly. You stopped in your tracks.

“I feel like we know each other,” you said hesitantly, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

He nodded gently, with a spark of recognition behind his ocean blue eyes.

“Hmmm we do… it’s been so long. Good to see a familiar face. Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“It really has been. Nice to see you too,” you replied, a weird sense of relief creeping in.

Remus Lupin. Of course you remembered him. He had been a well-seasoned fifth year student by the time you had started your first term at Hogwarts. Though you’d never really spoken directly, you were aware of him. Your paths crossed briefly when you were a prefect for Ravenclaw at a time of his own prefect duties for Gryffindor.

You loved being a prefect, it had been a rare reprieve. It gave you an excuse to roam around the castle, to lose yourself in the beauty of it. While many younglings found the darkness of Hogwarts unsettling, to you it was a genuine comfort, a place where you could gather your racing thoughts in peace.

“I’m sure we will see each other more often. My class is just around the corner. If you need anything dear you know where to find me.” He tilted his head in the direction of the stairs.

“Now if you’ll excuse me ma’am! I have to sign some documents at Mrs. McGonagall’s office. We shall see each other later?”

“Certainly. See you later Remus.”

It was hard not to admit that his warm welcome caught you off guard. What surprised you was that, despite having barely interacted in the past, he seemed to hold some sense of fondness towards you. Regardless, his gesture was undeniably kind.

-

You and Professor Burbage sat side by side, your mugs of coffee warming your hands as you exchanged stories about the last week’s antics from your lessons.

“…and then he- “you began, only to be interrupted by a familiar warmth on your shoulder.

“And who is that?” a familiar voice teased from behind.

Remus peeked between you and Professor Burbage with his very own cup of coffee.

“Good evening, Remmy. Please have a seat!”

“May I?” he asked without really waiting for an answer before pulling up a chair.

As Remus sat down, his knee brushed yours briefly under the table.

“You’re like two peas in a pod these days,” Burbage commented, her eyes darting between you with a knowing grin.

“What can I say dear Charity…?” Remus began, his tone mockingly serious.

“You have to have somebody to complain to when you’re marking awfully written papers.” You finished for him.

“Exactly. Out of respect for our sanity, of course.”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days?” she asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow, but his smirk gave him away. “Yes, that’s precisely what we’re calling it. Survival through shared suffering.”

 “Mhmm, shared suffering,” Charity said under her breath before taking a long sip of her coffee. She glanced at her watch.

“Well well I’d love to banter with you for a little longer but some of us have lessons to prepare for. Good night,” she said, slowly rising from her seat. She gently smoothed out her robe.

“Goodnight, Charity,” you said, trying to ignore the subtle heat spreading through your cheeks.

-

You were moving rice from one edge of your plate to another, trying to make it vanish with your sight.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Remus said, breaking the silence.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “It’s nothing, just tired.” He gave you an attentive look and nodded slowly.

“Dearie if you need to talk, you know I’m here,” he said gently.

„I know, thank you…”

Your rational side begged you to stop, to bury the feelings before they ruined what you had. But your heart had other ideas. It kept slowly but surely tearing you apart with unrelenting tension, increasing with every single one of Remus’ gestures, remarks.

His hand had barely brushed against yours, and it was enough to fuel the ache in your chest. You wanted to lean into the warmth he offered, wanted to let the comfort of his company wrap around you like a blanket, but you simply couldn’t.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you. You needed to leave. Needed some space.

“I... I must…go set up the classroom.” You said firmly getting up from your warmed up seat.

As you stepped into the hallway the cold air hit your face, making you more focused on your breathing. The feeling was sort of like the one on your first day teaching. Except this time you were walking away from him, the one person who had brought you so much comfort. With each step, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were letting something so important slip right through your fingers.

You slammed the door behind you, taking out your anger on the object. You couldn’t help but cry it all out. You slid down to the floor and buried your face between your knees.

Remus couldn’t stand it any longer. He set down his mug with a thud and followed you.

He hesitated for a moment, but the instinct to check on you was stronger than the quiet voice in his head telling him to stay away. Gently pushing the door open, he found you, sitting on the cold stone floor next to it.

He sat down beside you without a word. The silence was growing thicker if that was even possible.

“I don’t deserve this Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“You are right…you don’t deserve such treatment, “ you whispered back.

“I... I don’t know what’s happening anymore, Remus,” you choked out, your shoulders shaking. “Everything feels like it's falling apart, and I can’t keep pretending it’s fine.”

“That is not what I meant love.” He locked his gaze with yours, eyes glistening in the warm sunlight. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t deserve someone like you. I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I shouldn’t get close to anyone, and yet… here you are. Without even trying, you’ve become everything to me.” His voice wavered.

“You’ve brought light into places I thought would stay dark forever.”

“I’ve hidden from who I really am… from what I’ve been through. I convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of any of the good things, especially not you.” His words made your chest tighten.

“But you are worthy, Remus. You’re the most caring person I know. I wouldn’t have survived being here if it wasn’t for your constant support. I owe you the beginning of this chapter of my life.”

He looked down, his voice quiet as he murmured, “I don’t know how to accept that. I don’t know how to feel like I’m enough for you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“I have to be honest with you, Remus. I don’t know how to just be your friend anymore. I’ve tried, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel the way I do.” Your voice cracked, and you turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I never thought… I never dared to believe you could feel the same,”

“I’ve spent so much time telling myself you were out of reach,” he continued.

He paused, his hand hovering uncertainly before finally brushing gently against your cheek, as if afraid you might pull away. “I need to say this, Y/N. It’s been eating at me for weeks now, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You turned to face him. More tears welled up in your eyes. But this time they were happy tears.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you, wrapping your arms tightly around him. His embrace was immediate.

“I’ve tried to ignore it... but the more I’m with you, the more it’s hard to deny. I love you too,” you murmured into his chest, your voice muffled. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

As he held you close, the world felt like it had finally righted itself.

You soaked in the relief. And the warmth that seemed like it was completely out of your reach just seconds ago.

You stayed intertwined for a while, slowly digesting the good and the bad. Giving yourself space to let everything sink in.

But then, as the two of you sat there in silence for a while, Remus shifted slightly and let out a soft chuckle.

“You know,”

“as romantic as this moment is, my buttocks are absolutely freezing.” You couldn’t help but laugh through the remains of your tears.

“Oh, so now you’re saying my breakdown spot isn’t up to your standards?” you teased, pulling back just enough to see his face, which was now decorated with a playful smirk.

“I’m just saying, if we’re going to spend the night clinging to each other and crying some more maybe we could do it somewhere else. My butt’s about to become part of the stonework here… have some mercy for an old man.”

“I will as long as I am allowed to call you my old man.”

“I suppose I could let you get away with that... but only because I’m feeling generous.” Remus grinned, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Thank you for reading! Stay whelmed xx

[reading-comp-posting]

You have inspired me to start making reading comprehension questions for a server’s political memes channel. Do you have any tips to make good questions, or pitfalls to avoid?

I did want to answer this ask but I waited a bit until I had more actual posts queued before doing so

When I'm doing my gimmick, the first question I ask myself is, "taken completely literally at face value, what is this post saying?" Then, I ask, "what does this post actually mean?" or, alternatively, "what was the reason that this post was made?"

Of course that is not necessarily the best way to do it or the only valid way, it's just the easiest way for me to start breaking a post apart.

I also try to lead a hypothetical person who is reading my questions to try and think about things in a way that would help them understand the post. For instance, on the nsfw snow post I tried to direct my hypothetical answerer into understanding that the one image that was removed was probably due to copyright issues with the photographer as opposed to some algorithm gone awry that thought the snow was porn, which can be verified by checking the notes of the post.

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[feeder86]

Gluttons

It was strange how you could go ten years without seeing someone and yet suddenly remember everything about them the moment you came across them again.

Oliver had never understood the alarm system at the house he and his boyfriend had bought a couple of years ago. However, since it had been setting itself off whilst he had been at work, he knew it was time to get someone in to see it. He’d called a company, not knowing that his old high school buddy, Tom, worked for them. That was, until the guy showed up at his door that Thursday afternoon.

Back in the day, Oliver had mixed with quite a diverse crowd in high school. He’d never been one to shoehorn himself into a stereotypical group and had amassed friends across the entire spectrum of high school life. Tom had been on one of those extreme ends of the scale: a typically gorgeous, athletic jock who didn’t have much time for many people outside of the usual jock circle. However, Oliver had always found him relatively easy to chat to and even remembered them getting dared to kiss each other during an alcohol infused round of ‘spin the bottle’ at one of their friend’s parties. Unlike many of the other jocks, Tom seemed more comfortable in his own skin, not caring that Oliver was gay, despite only having an eye for the most athletic girls in the school. It was fair to say that Oliver only had good memories of the guy.

“Oliver!” Tom smiled in recognition as he stood on the doorway carrying his bag of tools. “I didn’t know you lived here!”

The man stepped over the threshold, placing his bag down and reached in for a hug that almost seemed out of place after such a long period of estrangement. The scent of him seemed so familiar. He was still so handsome and good-looking, but what was that Oliver could feel as their torsos bounced against each other? He looked down the moment they stepped apart again, noticing that Tom had developed the cutest, tight and firm-looking paunch on him. It stuck out under his toned chest, stretching the material of the cheap work shirt, looking incredibly out of place on the guy who had once been so fit and active.

“Long time, no see,” Oliver smiled back, trying not to stare at the unusual shape of his old high school buddy. The pair spent a few minutes reminiscing, with Oliver explaining how he and his ex, James, had come to buy the house and lived there together up until three months ago, when the guy had cheated on him and abruptly moved out. 

“I just remember that crazy old cat guy used to live here when we were in high school,” Tom laughed. “I never imagined it would be as nice as this inside.”

“Oh, it definitely wasn’t like this when we bought it,” Oliver laughed. “We pretty much had to start from scratch when we bought the place.”

Tom smiled at him, seeming to admire his achievement. It was the way he had always been, never jealous or competitive; just genuinely happy for others when things were going well; even if people beat him in a tennis match or smashed his high school athletics records. 

As Tom settled to work at the alarm box, Oliver couldn’t help staring at his old friend’s new shape once more. From behind, it was obvious that the tight little paunch on him had pushed around to his sides, providing him with the sweetest little love handles, further emphasised by how ridiculously tight his shirt was around his middle. There was an added thickness to his butt too; his old, slim glutes replaced with more bulbous, stronger-looking butt cheeks. After three months of being angry at the world and swearing off men, Oliver suddenly found himself swooning. He’d always loved guys on the larger side and Tom appeared to be the most perfect dad-bod specimen Oliver had ever seen. As the guy bent down to collect some wires from his bag, an expanse of skin on his lower back came suddenly into view, alongside a sweet shot of his delicious-looking butt crack that his stretched and undersized underwear failed to cover. There was no doubt about it, Oliver was finally getting over his break-up.

“Would you like some cake?” Oliver offered, pulling out the leftovers from the birthday party he had thrown for his mother the day before.

Two greedy little eyes looked upon the cake and the man swallowed a sudden build up of saliva. “Sure,” he nodded eagerly, sipping on his fresh coffee and feeling a lot more spoiled than when he called at most folks’ houses.

Oliver could feel his erection flexing as he pulled out the knife to start cutting the slice. Tom had always been so fit and lean, yet now Oliver was serving him cake whilst enjoying the round, bloated shape of his stomach. He went to dish out the portion when a wicked, kinky part of his brain began whispering to him: ‘More! More! Cut him a bigger slice!’ 

As Oliver listened to it, he felt even more blood pumping into his groin. The slice he had cut was ridiculously massive. He almost felt embarrassed as he served it up. Yet Tom didn’t seem in the slightest bit put off by it. He simply stood to the side, resting the arm holding the plate against his tight, rounded stomach, feeding himself with the fork. The sight was almost mesmerising.

“Can I get you some more?” Oliver asked cheekily, seeing that the plate was cleared remarkably quickly. “It’s fresh cream. I’ll probably end up having to throw it out tomorrow,” he lied.

“Well… okay then,” Tom nodded, seeming to know that he was overindulging. This time, Oliver didn’t bother cutting a slice. The remaining cake was only marginally larger than the slice he had served up last time. He simply slapped the entirety of it onto the plate, thanking Tom for freeing up some space in his refrigerator.

“It’s been really great to see you again,” Tom smiled later on as he gathered up his things and headed to the door.

“You too!” Oliver nodded back, having enjoyed the last half an hour immensely. He felt reinvigorated and irredeemably aroused, as if the time had been the best possible therapy to get him over the sadness of his break-up.

“Perhaps you might let me take you out to dinner sometime?” Tom asked next, suddenly a little shy.

“Dinner?” Oliver shot back in complete and utter shock. “As in… a date?”

“Sure. Why not?” Tom chuckled. “I always remember the two of us having a good vibe together back in high school. I’d like to see whether we still have it.”

Oliver was almost speechless. Sure, he’d been flirting the entire time, but he hadn’t expected any of it to land. Tom had never… Tom wasn’t into guys… What the hell was going on?

“You don’t want to,” Tom sighed, trying to interpret the stunned silence.

“No!” Oliver shot back. “Not ‘no’… I mean, yes. I mean…” he spluttered, grumbling at his sudden inability to communicate effectively. “Okay,” he nodded, trying not to laugh at his own good fortune. “But why don’t you come over here instead of going out? I can cook us a meal.”

Tom smiled brightly. “I’d love that. Tomorrow night?” he asked.

Oliver reflected the smile as he nodded. There really was no time to waste.

At the supermarket the next day, Oliver felt the same sense of arousal he had experienced when serving the cake. There were so many things a relatively overweight, former jock should never eat, suddenly getting thrown into his shopping cart: beers, potato chips, pastries and sodas. Something inside of Oliver was captivated by seeing how much Tom had let his eating habits slide and he endeavoured to create the most decadent dining experience for his date that he possibly could.

When Tom arrived, he looked smart enough in his pants and polished shoes. But just like any guy who wasn’t paying enough attention to his expanding waistline, his shirt was once again tight around his stomach. Even standing up, the buttons looked slightly strained, positively gaping once he sat down and started to eat alongside Oliver.

“You’ve got a great appetite!” Oliver couldn’t help marvelling as Tom reached out for a second helping of the dessert. He got up, spooning out another scoop of ice cream for the man as well, pretending that he was merely pleased that Tom had enjoyed his cooking so much. The guy hadn’t stopped complimenting his food all evening.

“I’ve always enjoyed my food,” Tom nodded back, already starting to spoon it all into his greedy little mouth. “I always used to get away with it when I was younger. But once I hit my mid-twenties, it all started to stick to me a lot more,” he explained, giving his rounded stomach a pat, showing, for the first time, that he was actually aware of it. “I reckon it’s probably the reason I’m still single.”

The shape of that gut was completely mesmerising to Oliver, yet he pushed his urge to stare and marvel at it to the side. It wasn’t normal to be so fixated on a guy’s belly; a feature that most people would find to be Tom’s least attractive attribute. “The last thing I heard about you was that you were engaged to Molly Simpson from the year below us,” Oliver enquired interestedly.

“Oh, yeah…” Tom mumbled back, trying to eat at the same time. “That was a couple of years ago now.” He shook his head, as if something still frustrated him. “I just don’t get it,” he grumbled. “What do people expect guys like me to look like these days? I’m nearly thirty after all.”

It was obvious that his increasing weight had put an end to Tom’s engagement. But the way that Tom seemed genuinely annoyed by it all seemed to suggest that he placed no blame on himself, or his overeating, whatsoever. The volume of food he had devoured was more than extreme that evening, yet the guy seemed to believe his expanding waistline was just a normal part of ageing?

“You remember Steve, my older brother?” Tom asked, still feeding himself. “He’s the same. Only he goes to the gym to try and keep his weight down. But,,, It’s not like I have the time for that, do I?” he shrugged.

Oliver nodded sympathetically. However, there was an excitement inside of him that he felt almost impossible to contain. Tom’s genuine greed had captivated him all evening, yet the multiple excuses and denial about his own part in his increasing weight was adding fuel to that fire; supplying another strange level of arousal to the whole proceedings. “Well, I’m just grateful to have someone who actually enjoys my cooking,” he threw back, resisting the temptation to make a disparaging remark about how his ex had never appreciated all the effort he put into their meals. “So is this why you asked me on a date? You think the girls don’t want you anymore?” he teased, adding another small scoop of ice cream into Tom’s bowl at the guy’s request.

“I told you I was bisexual years ago!” Tom shot back.

“No you didn’t,” Oliver laughed. 

“I definitely did!” Tom countered. “The night we played spin the bottle at Andy’s party. The night we kissed,” he chuckled. “You do remember that, right?” he asked, getting concerned.

“I remember us being dared to kiss,” Oliver nodded. “But I don’t remember anything else. I was pretty wasted. Did you really come out as bisexual to me that night?”

A small smile twitched from the corners of Tom’s mouth. “So that’s why you didn’t ever pick up on my flirting then,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“You were actually into me back then?” Oliver asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course I was,” Tom nodded. “You’re gorgeous!”

The pair held a sickly, besotted look for a moment, before they both got up to move over to Oliver’s lounge space. Tom sat down first. He’d always carried a sense of presence about him, but with his imposing height and added mass, he seemed to fill the area with a deeply arousing, masculine air; his straining shirt gaping once more, bloating from all the food he had devoured; yet Tom appeared completely oblivious to it, with eyes only on Oliver. They talked for a short while about the people they knew from their school days; both of them realising that there were surprisingly few either of them were still in regular contact with. They’d both moved on, lived lives and experienced things that had altered them more than their eighteen-year-old selves could have contemplated. They were so familiar to each other, and yet excitingly new.

Oliver nestled himself under Tom’s arm and rested against his side; a gentle hand draped over the boy’s stout little tummy as they moved in for a sweet kiss. The smell of his body was arousing Oliver more than he thought possible; the gentle sweat and manly musk of a guy who had overindulged in stifling clothes, more than a little too tight for his fattened body. The kiss was good and followed swiftly by another, more passionate and almost frantic, as if their simmering attraction to each other had finally passed the point of no return. It wasn’t as if they were strangers just getting to know each other, and it was obvious what they both wanted.

Oliver’s hands wanted to explore more and more; to rip off Tom’s clothes and see it all. Thankfully, it was Tom who was leading the charge. Perhaps, just like Oliver, this was the first bit of action he had had in months. As such, the kissing progressed quickly, with hands sliding down into crotches and rubbing with gentle moans of encouragement. Tom grunted and unbuckled his pants, sliding them down to let his buoyant erection spring out. Oliver followed his cue, with the pair mutually stroking the other as they kissed; their breathing getting heavier and heavier. 

Finally, Oliver could wait no more. He wanted to see under Tom’s shirt. He wriggled his dropped pants clean off, then raised his own shirt off his slender, gently toned body. Immediately, Tom’s eager hands explored his torso, smiling with eager appreciation. Now was Oliver’s moment. Naked, he stood and smiled wickedly and he pulled Tom’s pants further down and threw them across the room. He sat himself on Tom’s lap, finally taking his hands to the top button of the guy’s shirt, unpicking them all, one by one, making his way down. At last, he spread the material apart, revealing the rounded, most handsome potbelly Oliver had ever seen in his life. The chest was strong and a little hairy. Only the very gentle softness of the nipples gave away the obvious forty pounds Tom had gained since Oliver had seen him last. However, the extreme, solid and heavy ball-shaped stomach was more than he had ever wished for. Here was a man who not only enjoyed his food, but had clearly packed it into himself with relish, growing such a firm, well shaped, spherical mass. It was all Oliver could do not to lament at how insanely arousing he found the sight of it. Instead, he kissed the guy more and more, leading him upstairs to finish the job.

Oliver’s friends were always going to be sceptical when he started a new relationship. They’d witnessed how heartbroken he had been after his split with James, glancing at each other with concern as Oliver had lamented about seeing an old high school crush.

“He’s staying over again tonight?” Mandy had asked. “Doesn’t he have his own place?”

Oliver had steered the conversation carefully, sensing their worries. These friends had only ever known him as the driven, assertive version of his twenties; mistaking that now for a reckless, foolhardy fall into a rebound relationship. In contrast, Tom seemed to know him so much more; that unrefined incarnation of his teenage years and the way it had evolved now into someone the man appeared to have fallen for just as much as Oliver had in return.

“Trust me,” Oliver had smiled at them all. “You’ll understand when you meet him.”

However, when the friends did meet Tom, Oliver soon realised how much of a serious misstep he had taken in laying the groundwork. He’d talked too much about how they’d known each other in high school and how popular Tom had been with the girls because of his athleticism. So when he arrived with a thicker, slightly pot-bellied physique, he should have been less surprised when their eyes kept flying back to Tom’s swollen middle. Of course they would be surprised. Oliver’s ex, James, had been obsessed with the gym, whereas it was obvious that Tom was not. Like a typical guy who had packed on a few pounds, Tom was continuing to wear his medium t-shirts that clung unflatteringly against the expanded waistline, emphasising it even more. It also didn’t help that Tom had arrived, feeling pretty hungry. He ordered more than everyone else and even reached across to grab the things people had left on their plates when they were too polite to refuse him.

If Oliver was honest, he felt a strange sense of embarrassment at Tom’s overeating and attire. His new boyfriend’s greed and appearance did not match in the slightest with the men his friends were used to him dating. Upon meeting Tom, they were quickly realising that Oliver’s taste in men wasn’t always quite so mainstream. On the other hand, however, it was incredibly thrilling to show off the kind of man Oliver found genuinely so appealing: overfed, under-exercised and swollen. As Tom ate, Oliver’s hardness built, realising that were Tom to continue on this path, this was probably the slimmest his friends would ever see his new lover.

In truth, Oliver knew that he was significantly overfeeding Tom whenever he came over. It almost felt like something he could barely control as he stocked his refrigerator and cupboards with all the decadent favorites he knew Tom wouldn’t be able to resist. Meanwhile, Tom relaxed into it completely, resting back into the couch as he sipped on his beers and allowed his new lover to spoil him. It was obvious how much he enjoyed it all, lamenting more than once how great it was to be dating someone who didn’t constantly nag him about his eating, as it appeared his previous girlfriends had all done. In Tom’s mind, this made dating guys so much easier.

The effects were instantaneous. When they first started sleeping together, Oliver could squint his eyes and still see the toned, athletic butt that Tom had had back at the end of high school, even with his slightly oversized glutes. Now, however, the tops of Tom’s thighs had started softening and the butt cheeks had pushed outwards, developing significantly more width to them through a lack of exercise. Tom’s ass had become that of a fat man, rather than a simple ex-jock, meaning that Oliver was able to finish with remarkable speed whenever they practised being versatile in the bedroom. But as Oliver thrusted and pounded, he wasn’t simply enjoying the feel and shape of Tom’s chubby butt; in his mind, he was imagining the size it could grow to with more time and encouragement. After all, it was obvious that Tom’s rear was only ever going to grow bigger.

Unlike other people, there seemed to be a genuine disconnect between Tom and the appearance of his body. He didn’t seem to notice how badly his clothes were fitting, nor become irritated by how obviously uncomfortable certain items of clothing must have been for him; his tortured, stretched out and exhausted underwear sliding further down his butt crack. After a performance management review, Tom came back wearing larger work shirts that had been issued to him after his manager saw the disastrous fit of the old ones. Tom had shrugged it off without complaint, nor alarm over how much thicker he was becoming. He was the type of man who didn’t make issues where there needn’t to be any. His weight wasn’t impacting his work, nor his sex life, so it surely mustn’t be a problem.

Out of both excitement and neccessity, Oliver took the initiative and started to buy Tom some new items to wear, finding that the man was more than happy to accept the guidance. Having never had an interest in clothes, he’d assumed that, as a gay man, Oliver would be a lot more knowledgeable about how to dress him. The casual look was so sexy on him as well; the sweatshorts and sweatpants, the sleeveless t-shirts and elasticated waistbands. It was obvious how Tom’s gain had been able to take hold of him. The guy had adopted a lazy lifestyle that Oliver had enabled with ease. As Tom drove around from house to house in work, he’d been making casual calls at fast food places several times in a week, as was evident throughout his work vehicle. He’d avoided walking as much as he could, always ensuring he parked as close as possible to the store he was visiting. When he got home, he would collapse on the couch and not move. Indeed, a brief look in the glutton’s kitchen cupboards would tell anyone that he had the taste buds of a five year old; with sugary snacks and tasty treats filling them up entirely.

For the first time, Tom was starting to carry a little more weight in his face, with cheeks that had swollen slightly and the start of a small chin. His pecs had softened, with fat beginning to spread under his arms as his rounded gut inflated once more.  Oliver realised that in only three months of dating, he had probably witnessed Tom gaining a further thirty pounds of fat on his tall frame without a care in the world.

It was around that time when Oliver was taken to meet Tom’s family. Despite only knowing for a few days that their son had flipped to dating a guy for the first time, Tom was still remarkably affectionate with Oliver in front of them. His brother, Steve, and his wife, Rachel, had been invited along for dinner at the same time, really piling on the pressure for Oliver to impress. 

Oliver had an image in his head of how he expected Tom’s parents to look; after all, Tom had done every athletics club under the sun when he was growing up, and it wasn’t unreasonable for Oliver to anticipate that this was as a result of his upbringing. However, Oliver quickly realised that the picture he had of them in his head couldn’t have been more wrong. Tom’s mother was short, round and carried an enormous amount of weight on her giant rear. His father was an even more extreme example of obesity, clearly weighing no less than four hundred pounds on his tall and broad frame. Oliver wondered if this had been a recent thing for the pair of them, but as he gazed upon the family photos around the house, he realised that Tom and his brother, Steve, had always grown up with very large parents. 

Steve’s wife, Rachel, was someone Oliver remembered clearly as the former editor of the high school newspaper; an extremely bossy and studious girl from the year above and not someone Oliver had been particularly keen to get to know. Perhaps it was just the fact that she had seen so many of Tom’s love interests come and go over the many years she had been a part of the family, but she did not seem in the slightest bit as interested in Oliver as the rest of the friendly bunch. She picked at and chastised her husband for reaching for a second helping of dessert and she positively scowled at her mother-in-law when she brought out further snacks after dinner. Her reason for this was simple. Much like Tom, Steve had packed on quite a good amount of weight since his athletic high school days. He’d developed a stout little tummy and his face had that distinct puffiness to it that his younger self had not.

“The boys always overeat when they come here,” Rachel grumbled quietly to Oliver later on, as the pair were alone for the first time. “Walt and Sue have absolutely no idea about healthy diets or portion control,” she sighed, referring to Tom’s parents; clearly wound up and frustrated by having to be there.

“Well, they’re clearly good cooks,” Oliver smiled back, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Steve and I went through a rough patch a couple of years ago and he moved back here for two months,” she replied, still attempting to make her point. “Forty pounds!” she exclaimed. “That’s how much he gained from just being here with those two, eating the same things that they do. He’s still carrying around some of it now.”

“I see,” Oliver nodded, not really wanting to get involved in Rachel’s in-law grumblings.

“Give these boys an inch and they’d turn into the image of their father,” Rachel nodded, finally seeming to reach her point. “Tom’s weight has gone up and down in the last couple of years, but I’ve never seen him this big before. You’ll need to start putting your foot down with him, like I do with Steve.”

With impeccable timing, the pair watched as Tom reached out and fed himself a large doughnut as he finally finished drying the dishes with the others. Three large bites and it was gone, like it had been nothing more than air. It was plain to see that Rachel was absolutely right. Left to their own devices, both Tom and his brother were exactly the type of men who could stumble into quite extreme obesity. If only Rachel knew that Oliver had no intentions of ever preventing that.

Oliver had never dated a guy with so little inhibitions when it came to his body. Despite the fat little tummy he had developed, Tom seemed completely at ease lounging around Oliver’s house in nothing but his underwear; even answering the door to the take-out delivery guy with next to nothing on. Perhaps it stemmed from the days when Tom had been the ultimate fantasy for so many women; tall, broad and handsome. But with his gut pushing out in one direction and his chubby rear in another, the guy was getting further and further away from the sleek form that had once made women droll. His laziness was evident by how content he was to lay about all weekend, making multiple excuses whenever Oliver suggested going for a hike, or getting out for some exercise. Overfed, oversexed and under-exercised, Tom had reached a level of contentment in his new relationship that was only ever going to have one result.

It was easy to become blind to it all. Tom’s eating was indeed quite extreme. He could arrive at Oliver’s place with a tray of doughnuts and go to bed that night with not a single one left. Despite being well catered for, he ordered in food later in the evening and he slurped on beers and sodas like he’d spent a month in a dry desert. It was as if he was so comfortable and happy in his relationship with Oliver, he was taking the best vacation from caring about his diet at all.

However, as the months trickled by, it was clear that Tom’s eating was anything but temporary. Their first holiday season together had been an eye-opener as Oliver saw just how much Tom’s family indulged. Rachel had been a constant snarky killjoy the entire time, biting Steve’s head off anytime he went in for extra helpings in the same way Tom seemed to enjoy doing. It was obvious that neither Tom, nor his parents were all that keen on her, making it significantly easier for them to appreciate how laid back Oliver was instead. By simply not nagging or chastising Tom as his gut bloated up into an even more spherical shape, he’d become the firm favorire amongst even the extended family. It was something that Oliver didn’t mind too much. Rachel was abrasive and harsh. It was easy to feel sorry for Steve as they waved goodbye to them both after a meal at Tom’s parents; Rachel’s face set like stone because her husband had overeaten once more.

Moving in together had been the inevitable next step for Oliver and Tom. However, this process was sped up significantly by the fact that Tom’s landlord was wanting to sell. Although it had been less than eighteen months since Oliver had kicked out his last lover, there he was welcoming another into his home. He’d expected the usual teething problems as they learned to get along, living side by side. Yet the experience turned out to be nothing but pure pleasure. Not only was their sex life as rampant as ever, but Tom was considerate and funny, appreciating how lucky he was to have a guy who was not only willing to let him move in, but make the changes he wanted around the house: his significantly larger TV screen in the lounge, his ugly recliner chair in front of it; a beer dispenser by the refrigerator and a whole stack of games and console machines in what was the become Tom’s new man cave. Giving the guy his own space vital to making this work, Oliver reasoned. He’d had to set his own ground rules as well; chief amongst them that Tom tried his best not to sit down on some of the older pieces of furniture Oliver had inherited from his grandmother. Given the size of the man’s ball-like stomach these days, Oliver suspected that his lover had already surpassed three hundred pounds as the couch began grumbling under his weight.

In no time at all, Oliver’s home soon became a casual refuge for Steve as well. Being that Tom only lived a few blocks away from his brother now, the two guys were seeing a lot more of each other than they had in the ten years since Steve had first moved out of their parents’ place. With some amusement, Oliver would chuckle to himself as he saw Tom letting the guy in to watch the football on TV. Steve would always be dressed like he was heading to the gym and Oliver suspected that that was exactly where his wife had been told he was going. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, gorging on take out pizzas with his brother, whilst shouting at the screen.

Steve had always carried a stubborn, stout little paunch the whole time Oliver had been dating Tom. However, after only three months of skipping the gym to watch sports with Tom, the guy had packed on a considerable amount of additional weight, rounding him out further and bloating up his face in the same way that Tom’s had in the early days of dating Oliver. Judging by the amount of take-out boxes and emptied cans Oliver could come down to in the morning, it was obvious that Steve was every bit as much of a glutton as Tom was. The results of all those excess calories were staggeringly similar as well: the swelling ball of stomach, the widening of the rear. The more the boys ate, the hungrier they seemed to become.

Tom’s gut appeared to enter the room before he did and his hips had swollen outwards in a way that had completely altered his shape. There had always been at least a hint of the guy’s former athleticism in his physique: the strong chest, the biceps, the jawline. Yet all of that had now melted away, being replaced by a puffing fatness that had coated Tom’s entire body. As he slouched in his chair, the great mass of stomach fat arched out in front of him, expanding into his lap; his pecs long since succumbing to the build up of blubber. At what must have been 350lbs, Oliver could not get over how attracted he was to the man: the sheer enormity and size of him; the great appetite and joy he seemed to get from his eating, without caring in the slightest about how his body was changing.

Oliver had asked Tom to marry him whilst they were on vacation together in Las Vegas. Tom had gorged himself the entire time, going from restaurant to restaurant, and when they had won a sizable amount of cash on their penultimate evening there, it felt like everything had slotted into place as they headed off to the tackiest looking chapel they could find.

However, as one marriage began, it seemed as if another was ending. Steve and Rachel clearly weren’t getting along, meaning that the poor, hapless guy was soon spending more and more time in Oliver and Tom’s spare bedroom. Oliver tried not to pry but it seemed obvious to him what the main catalyst was for the couple’s troubles.

“Don’t you think you should go easy on the pizzas later when you’re watching the game with Steve?” Oliver tried to ask. “You know what Rachel is like about his weight and it’s clear that she’s not happy about how much weight he’s gained.”

Tom shrugged. Even he couldn't deny how much weight his brother had packed on in the last few months. After all, he had taken to wearing many items of clothing that Tom had outgrown himself: the sweatpants, the t-shirts, the sweaters. “What’s the point? We all know they’re not getting back together.”

Oliver sighed. Given how much of Steve’s stuff had been filling up the spare bedroom, he had come to a similar conclusion.

“And so what if they do get a divorce? Steve’s already starting to realise how much nicer life is without her.” He looked at Oliver, trying to get a sense of what he was thinking. “Unless… you’re frustrated at having him here?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “You know my parents would let him stay with them if it’s all a bit too much?”

Oliver shook his head. That wasn’t the case at all. Ever since Tom had quit his job for an admin role, working from home, he had worried that Tom’s weight would start to come down, now that he wasn’t roaming from fast food joint to fast food joint during his working day. But with Steve around, the pair fuelled each other’s enthusiasm for tasty treats, with an inevitable, incredibly arousing impact on both their bodies. In the last few weeks alone, Tom’s thighs had appeared to explode with additional size, stretching the capacity of even his most casual sweatpants.

Steve’s attitude seemed to change the moment he found out that Rachel had started to date one of his old friends. Rather than being angry and bitter, it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could at last move on, rejecting the guilt he felt and enjoy his life.

“Steve’s out again?” Oliver chuckled as he came in late one evening. “Another date? Who is it this time?”

Tom nodded as he dipped his hand into a large bag of potato chips. “Some girl he met online,” he replied. “A new one.”

Oliver smiled, pleased that Steve was proving to be such a hit with the ladies, even with his larger stomach these days.

When Steve finally did bring a girl home, both Oliver and Tom quietly confessed to each other their surprise over how good looking she was: petite, slim and large chested, the woman could have had any man she wanted; yet she seemed physically incapable of keeping her hands off her new chubby boyfriend. As for Steve, he seemed blissfully happy and pleased with himself, knowing that he had struck gold. Gina seemed like the girl he had been waiting for his entire life.

“Your Tom’s a big boy, isn’t he?” Gina smiled, watching as Oliver’s husband and Steve retreated into the lounge after dinner.

“I guess so,” Oliver smiled as he tidied up the table, still undecided about the woman his brother-in-law was dating.

“You two must get a lot of looks when you go out together? You’re both so different!”

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So many folks didn’t understand how he could be so in love with a man almost two hundred pounds heavier than him; yet few lacked the tack to keep that curiosity to themselves. “I guess so,” he replied disinterestedly.

“My Steve has a pretty big tummy on him as well,” Gina blundered on, chuckling nervously.

“Well, I think my husband is partly to blame for that,” Oliver smiled back. “He’s been teaching him some pretty bad habits since Steve moved in here with us.”

Gina nodded enthusiastically back. “Yes, Steve’s been telling me! He split his pants at work the other day,” she chuckled.

“I’ve lost count of the amount of pants Tom’s destroyed over the years!” Oliver joked back.

“So, are the boys done eating for the night? Or do they usually snack now?”

Oliver looked at his watch and shook his head. “It’s only eight o’clock!” he replied as if Gina’s question had been utterly ridiculous. “Tom likes something to eat around ten or so. Usually it’s a pizza.”

“And does Steve join him?” Gina asked, almost excitedly.

“Of course,” Oliver nodded.

Gina turned, looking towards the lounge area, sighing with pleasure. “I think this living arrangement is going to work out very well for all of us!”

Oliver simply wiped down the kitchen counter as Gina skipped off to snuggle under Steve’s arm on the couch, not quite understanding exactly what the woman had meant.

A couple of weeks later, Oliver nudged his husband as Steve came down the stairs ready to head out for dinner with Gina. His eyes had bulged at the tight shirt the guy was wearing; his stout, rounded stomach already straining the buttons. 

“You can’t let him wear that!” Oliver whispered, panicking as he saw Steve grabbing his keys. “Tell him it’s too tight!”

Tom looked up from his heaped plate of cheese and savoury biscuits, balanced on top of the shelf of stomach fat he had accumulated. He saw the ridiculous shirt and smirked to himself. “Have a good evening, buddy!” he called out, letting the guy leave without a word of protest.

“How could you let him go out like that?” Oliver cried, utterly shocked by his husband’s lack of caring.

Tom merely laughed to himself. “You worry far too much about him. Trust me, Steve knows exactly what he’s doing!”

Oliver paused, never quite knowing how far to pry into the brothers’ relationship. They got along better than any other siblings he had ever known and were certainly a lot closer than Oliver had ever been with his especially aloof older sister. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Tom seemed to ponder how best to answer as he continued eating. “Well, Gina is quite forthcoming when it comes to her appreciation of the extra weight he’s been carrying lately. I imagine he’s going to get very lucky tonight when she sees him in that tight shirt!”

“Gina likes it?” Oliver asked, feeling a lot more surprised than he should reasonably have been, considering all the compliments he had heard the girl giving the chubby boy.

“Of course,” Tom nodded. “She wants him bigger.”

“She… what?” Oliver gasped. 

“Oh, come on!” Tom chuckled. “You can’t pretend you’re not exactly the same. It’s just like how you get off on my… what is it you say? My ‘big, manly appetite.’”

“That’s not quite the same thing,” Oliver mumbled, slightly embarrassed. 

“Well, Gina thinks it is,” Tom replied. “Her and Steve talk about it quite a lot. She thinks you enable me to gain weight because you enjoy it.”

Oliver blushed. He never lied to Tom, yet if he opened his mouth at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to help one from slipping out, denying everything. “And what do you think?” was all he asked.

“I just think I’m a greedy boy who eats far too much,” Tom smirked. “But I do think that might be part of the reason why you married me…”

Tom’s responses were light and jovial, relaxing Oliver as he came to terms with the fact he would have to own up to his kinkier side. “But, I don’t make you wear tight clothes that people will make fun of you for,” he replied, trying to shift the spotlight back onto Gina instead.

“No,” Tom nodded in agreement. “But you’re hardly stopping me from outgrowing everything, are you?”

Oliver merely stared at his husband for a few moments as he finished up the last of his pre-dinner snack; all those additional calories and fats he had prepared for his husband. He’d been outed as a chubby chaser. “So how big does Gina want Steve to get?” he asked.

Tom pressed his thumb into the plate, picking up all the leftover crumbs, before sucking them off. “They’ve had some very kinky conversations about just that,” the big man nodded. “She makes these special shakes for him, loaded with calories! Then she sucks him off whilst he downs it all for her.”

“And Steve is okay with that?” Oliver questioned, trying to hold back his surprise.

“Did you not hear the bit about the blow job?” Tom chuckled. “He’s a guy. Of course he loves it.”

Tom’s casual nature was making it harder for Oliver to unpick how the man really felt about all this. His brother had fallen into a feedist relationship and yet Tom seemed utterly delighted for him. “Are you saying that’s something you’d like us to try?” he finally asked.

“I’d drink one of those shakes for you, no problem,” Tom nodded enthusiastically. “Especially if it came with some benefits…You should get the recipe from Gina. I’m sure she’d happily share.”

“And you’d find that exciting?”

Tom scoffed, not prepared to let his husband hide behind the mask of his supposedly naive enabling anymore. “We’d both get off on that, and you know it!” he laughed. “Frankly, I’d love it if you were a little more vocal about enjoying my appetite; like Gina is with Steve.”

At that moment, a knock came at the door, just as Oliver was trying to take in the enormity of the casual comments his husband had just made. Dazed, he walked off to the entrance way and opened the door up to the visitors they had been expecting.

“Jeez!” exclaimed Dex, fresh from a year-long trip to New Zealand with his girlfriend, Marie. “We just saw Steve heading out as we pulled up,” he rambled, having met Oliver and Tom as a couple only once before heading off on their trip. “I can’t believe how much weight he’s…”

Tom waddled in from around the corner, ready to see one of the only friends he still kept from high school, simultaneously shutting Dex’s ramblings down in an instant as the guy saw just how enormous Tom had grown. His girlfriend’s eyes bulged too; the pair of them trying to contain their surprise.

“Hey… hey there, buddy!” Dex cried, walking over to Tom and giving him the briefest of hugs. His voice was unsure and it was obvious how uncomfortable he felt to have been caught commenting on Steve’s weight gain, given how much more extremely Tom had grown. That giant gut really was the only thing anyone ever saw.

Oliver looked at the pair, not really understanding why Tom still kept in touch with them. Dex was every bit the high school jock he had once been; Marie a moderately successful social media influencer. They’d travelled the world, worked in several different countries, declaring that they could never imagine anything worse than living an insignificant life back home in the small towns where they had grown up. It was exactly the sort of ego that Oliver had disliked about Dex back in high school. Meanwhile, Tom lived for his pizzas and take-outs. He worked from home and had little interest in anything that involved getting up off his couch. How many days had it been since Tom had even bothered to leave the house?

It was easy to become blind to Tom’s size ever since Oliver lived with him each day. But with Dex there, alongside his petite girlfriend, the contrast was clearer than ever. Since when had Tom’s face become so massive? Did regular folks like Dex and Marie really eat such small portions? It had been a little while since Tom had started sitting at the head of the table, instead of at the side by Oliver. However, as the four of them were sitting that evening, it was more than obvious that the seating position was purely to accommodate Tom’s giant size. Oliver had to lean over and plate Tom's meal up for him, catching Dex and Marie glancing with concern at each other at just how much food Oliver was naturally piling onto their friend’s plate.

The conversation quickly became dominated by uninteresting anecdotes from the high flying couple’s global adventures. Oliver could tell that Tom wasn’t really listening; neither of them were. Oliver simply kept a keen eye on Tom’s plate, spooning on more of the different items as they started to get low. It was second nature to him now. However, from the little, uneasy pauses Dex made each time Oliver did so, his disapproval was getting ever closer to the surface. But the more Dex and Marie rambled on, the less concerned Oliver felt about upsetting them. It seemed like their egos had inflated tenfold with a little social media success. They spoke as if they were the authority on several issues, with an arrogance inside them that they both seemed completely oblivious to. 

Oliver slopped more food onto Tom’s plate. His husband was eating well; most likely because there was no opportunity for him to join in the conversation. If he kept it up, Oliver wouldn’t have to plate up any leftovers later. All the serving bowls could go straight in the dishwasher. He knew he was overfacing Tom by emptying the last of the cream and cheese potato dish out for him, but it was worth a shot, given that Steve wasn’t there to help out, as well as the fact that Marie and Dex had avoided it; seeming to know how calorie laden it was.

Afterwards, Tom stretched out and rubbed his swollen stomach with a grunt whilst Oliver dutifully cleared the table around him. He’d made a giant, hearty dish of sticky toffee sponge, leaving it out in the middle of the table for Marie and Dex to serve themselves. Unused to waiting for guests to be served first, Oliver tried to hold back a small chuckle as he heard his gluttonous husband swallowing back saliva as he watched on. Finally, the serving spoon was in Oliver’s hand, carving out a humongous portion and pressing it down until it fitted inside their oversized bowls. He’d made additional toffee sauce, pouring that on for Tom as well, before placing it down in front of him. The weight of it was obvious by the hefty ‘thunk’ it made onto the placemat; something that did not go unnoticed by the guests.

If there was one thing Oliver never had to worry about, it was Tom’s sweet tooth. But rarely had Oliver been so blatant as to start refilling his husband’s bowl the moment he dropped the spoon. The goal was simple: no leftovers. Having Dex and Marie there to witness it was even quietly thrilling.

“So, do you have any more plans for the house?” Marie asked, finally seeming to notice that they had been talking about themselves for over an hour by that point. “Last time we saw you, you mentioned wanting to extend out the back.”

Oliver shook his head. In truth, he’d lost a lot of his enthusiasm for the house ever since he’d met Tom. Houses and renovations were not the large man’s thing in the slightest. All Tom really cared about was having somewhere to rest his head at night. “I don’t think so,” Oliver replied, reaching under the table to rest his hand on Tom’s knee. “In truth, I can’t see us staying here for too much longer.”

“Oh, really?” Marie smiled back. “Are you guys thinking of moving out of town?”

“No, nothing like that,” Oliver shot back, realising that he hadn’t even discussed any of this with Tom. “But this place is old and has already been knocked around a fair bit. The shower is getting a little too small for Tom and there’s no way of making it larger unless we knock down the wall into one of the guest bedrooms. It’s a lot of work.”

“Or…” Dex began, looking at them both like they were simple, “...you could just put him on a diet.”

Oliver was surprised at the slight glee he felt at making Dex bite. Tom was busily scraping his bowl clean, determined to get every last crumb; oblivious. “Oh, I think that ship has sailed, don’t you?” Oliver chuckled, exchanging his husband’s empty bowl for the entire bowl that remained in the middle of the table. He lifted the jug of extra toffee sauce, emptying it entirely, before passing Tom his spoon back and slipping his hand under the table once more to rub his husband’s knee. His silent meaning was clear: eat it all.

Steve’s disgust was evident on his face as he simply watched his old friend annihilating the entirety of the remaining dessert without a thought. All three spectators were observing the masterful glutton taking on the sugary feast without even noticing he was being watched; the conversation halted. Oliver could hardly believe how erotic he found it and he was thankful that he was wearing an oversized sweater that covered his crotch as he stood up to collect yet another fresh soda for his husband. He imagined how boring it would be to be lumbered with a fit guy like Dex. Oliver knew he’d have to fatten him up with his calorie dense food and quiet enabling, until he got what he wanted; exactly as he had done with Tom, and now his brother as well.

“Check out this pic I found of us from high school,” Dex insisted, fumbling with his phone. “I found it the other day,” he explained, filling the silence as he clicked and swiped his way to it. Finally, he turned it around for Oliver and Tom to see: two handsome, shirtless jocks with glistening six packs by the pool. “Look at the pair of us! Man, I miss those care-free days!” Dex chuckled fondly.

Oliver tried to suppress a chuckle. Dex’s true intentions hadn’t been clearer, reminding his old friend of how fit he used to be.

“I don’t!” Tom grunted in reply between large mouthfuls. “I never liked being on the swim team. In fact, I haven’t stepped foot in a swimming pool since I graduated.”

“Seriously?” Marie asked in surprise. “In over ten years?” Given how many poolside selfies there were of her, it was a wonder she didn’t have gills.

“Tom’s not big on exercise,” Oliver confirmed, shaking his head.

Realising the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Dex returned his cell phone to his pocket. “Dude, you’re starting to look like your dad,” he finally snapped as Tom began scraping the bowl for the last of the toffee sauce. 

Having cleared some plates, Oliver was just making his way back to the table as he said it, making him chuckle as he rubbed his husband’s large back proudly. “Actually, Tom can eat even more than his dad these days,” he smiled, as if this was an achievement to be proud of.

Tom, who seemed to be finally switching back onto the conversation now his food was all but gone, nodded in agreement.

Dex had clearly expected more negativity from his comment and he looked at Marie as if they were both thinking the same thing. He gazed down at his watch and Marie nodded subtly in agreement.

“Thanks for dinner,” Dex sighed, already getting up. “But we have to be up early tomorrow for our flight.”

Oliver beamed. He had thought he was stuck with the pair of them all evening. “Oh, we understand,” he nodded, hoping to sound disappointed. Then he looked down at a still seated Tom, waiting for him to echo his words of regret. However, Tom seemed far more concerned with the tightness of his stomach after downing such a large amount from his fresh soda. He rubbed at his stomach and looked almost like he might throw up, before a giant burp came rolling up from his throat. Sighing with relief, Tom grunted as he rose to his feet as well; his stomach so bloated that the underside of it was visible from the bottom of his t-shirt.

No one hugged in goodbye. Dex seemed disgusted and, at the same time, pitying towards his old friend. Tom raised his great arm and Oliver slid underneath, resting against the man’s bulk as the pair stood just outside the house and waved the pretty couple off. “Do you think we frightened them away?” Tom whispered as the car rumbled off the driveway. “You’ve never made me eat like that before,” he chuckled.

“It was more entertaining than listening to all their boring stories,” Oliver replied, trying not to move his mouth so much that the couple would have the chance to read his lips as they backed out onto the road. “Did you enjoy it, though?” he smirked, raising his hand for the final wave to Dex and Marie.

Tom didn’t reply. He simply trotted his way back into the house and embraced his husband in a giant kiss the moment the front door was closed behind them. Oliver was the one who pulled off Tom’s shirt, feeling a freedom now to enjoy the giant size of his glutton’s stomach that he hadn’t allowed himself before now.

“You like?” Tom asked, standing proudly and full of confidence, even pushing his fat tummy out a little more.

“I do!” Oliver nodded, slipping down onto his knees in order to kiss the giant mass. 

Tom grunted in approval, seizing the opportunity to lower his sweatpants and feed his stiff and buried hardness into Oliver’s mouth. He moaned loudly as Oliver settled to his work with such relish, rubbing his enormous stomach as if his own size was turning him on. As Oliver’s tongue worked him harder, Tom’s stomach rubbing only became more frantic and desperate, taking a hand to each side of it and bouncing it up and down.

“You’re never going to put me on a diet, are you?” Tom asked, his voice dripping with lust.

Oliver briefly pulled his mouth from Tom’s crotch to reply. “Never,” he teased back, noticing that Tom’s dick was even harder by the time he got it back between his lips. 

The next time Oliver came up for breath, he pulled Tom along towards the couch, letting the fat boy down on his back, legs splayed, as Oliver set back to pleasuring him. In this position, Tom seemed to be enjoying himself even more; moaning loudly and rubbing his giant gut like it was an enormous wrecking ball pinning him down. There was almost no effort required to make the man ejaculate.

Afterwards, Oliver looked on at his husband with a satisfaction that no orgasm could give him. Naked and well-catered for, Tom had fallen asleep in the same position he had landed in during the blow job; a giant, fat slug draped over the couch that constantly creaked under his weight. The fat under his chin had made his neck disappear in this position and a contented, calm expression filled his face as he dozed. This was the reason Oliver loved his size and greed so much; for only he could deliver this sort of bliss to a glutton like Tom: his perfect man.

Only eighteen months later, Tom stood, filling his plate full of items from the buffet table at his brother’s wedding. It had been a long day for the guy, being the Best Man, with plenty of time up on his feet for the photographs. Oliver watched on, admiring the sheer size of his husband’s rear from afar. There was something so cute that happened to those glutes once a man crossed five hundred pounds. They were so plush and soft, yet grotesquely oversized and extreme-looking, especially in the tight dress pants Tom had been made to wear that day. He wasn’t used to such restrictive clothes, and he wriggled and twitched in them the entire time, silently longing to get back into his sweatshorts which wouldn’t pinch him like these pants did.

There had come a point a few months back when Oliver and Tom had decided to take a step back from the deliberately fattening regime Tom had seemed to take himself on. To some extent, it had worked. Tom was no longer growing at the rate that he had been. However,  there was no denying the fact that the man was indeed still growing. Those unplanned pounds had made his body swell and soften in a way that none of the previous weight ever had before. His upper arms had ballooned with fat and his hips had widened so that he had broken more than a few chairs. It had been fat building upon already well established fat. Of course it was going to change his shape, thought Oliver, rolling his eyes as Tom finally began to have second thoughts once even his parents had shown some concern. But the weight was still finding him; still sliding onto his overfed physique and quietly arousing them both by the seemingly uncontrollable nature of it all.

Steve, and his new wife emerged onto the dance floor. It was almost pitiable to watch her dragging such a fat man out to dance with her. With such a hectic day, Steve had become dishevelled and a little sweaty; his large shirt untucking itself in all but a couple of places around his large circumference. His blossoming love handles an underbelly showing in just the same Tom’s had only one hundred pounds earlier. As for his new wife, she seemed to be loving every minute, showing off the giant, spherical man she could now call her own. Without much family to Gina’s name, the guest list seemed saturated with friends of hers with similarly bloated, overfed husbands; most likely undergoing the same transformation that Steve was under a feeder’s care. Oliver had seen them all looking across at him, nodding in approval at Tom’s size, as if they were all a part of the same strange and unspoken club.

“Are you not coming to watch?” Oliver asked his overstuffed husband, wiping his mouth after completing his monstrous mountain of buffet food.

Tom shook his head lazily, pretending to want to rest his feet.

Oliver smirked, spotting the vast quantities of pre-cut wedding cake sitting on the table not far away and knowing that Tom was secretly plotting a way to get more than his fair share whilst everyone was distracted. Indeed, if there was one thing Oliver could always rely upon, it was Tom’s sweet tooth.

“Okay, honey,” Oliver smiled, pretending not to have figured out his gluttonous husband’s real intentions. “You just rest here for a minute,” he smiled, turning his back so that Tom could quietly gorge himself, unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Given how well the man had been eating today, there’d certainly be fresh fat to explore on his body by tomorrow morning….

Life was sweet.

[holybibly]

Lately, I can't help but think that Mingi and San are the epitome of the Doberman type of boyfriends.

And here are the unholy thoughts of the day: Your dorm closes for the summer, and you are literally left in the middle of the street with endless stacks of romance novels and fluffy blankets. Luckily, Yunho and Yeosang's friends have kindly agreed to take you in until the academic term starts. What neither Yunho nor Yeosang have warned you about is that your new roommates will be two luxurious Dobermans guys. They look like they've stepped straight out of the pages of those twisted romance novels you've been so obsessed with.

Utterly shameless, vulgar, and sexy as hell, they are horrible perverts who love to make you blush and squirm with their words and actions. They frighten you, but what frightens you even more are the fantasies you have about them. But who can blame you when you're literally surrounded by walking porn 24/7 and they have a soft spot for pretty girls with cute pigtails that they can wrap around their wrists while they fuck them into oblivion?

You trusted Yunho and Yeosang; you were friends since childhood, and of course both boys wanted the best for you, so how the hell did you end up in the same apartment with San and Mingi, literally squeezed between their big, hot bodies with no escape plan?

You didn't expect your university to sneakily out all the students out into the street this year and close the halls for the summer. But thanks to your friends, you managed to avoid sleeping under the bridge, although now you think that living under the bridge would not be as bad as living with Mingi and San.

When Yunho told you that one of his model friends was willing to let you stay in his apartment for the summer, you were incredibly happy, and how lucky that one of Yeosang's best friends was also staying there. But for some reason, neither of them bothered to warn you that San and Mingi were the typical dark Doberman boys from twisted romance novels, with cheeky, shameless behaviour and domineering manners.

Not that they were that bad; no, both boys were pretty nice, if you don't count the times they deliberately embarrassed you or made you squirm from their not-so-innocent touches.

The very first night you met them, you learnt a few things: one, neither of them were wearing underwear, which you felt very clearly when Mingi pressed his hips against your ass while helping you put your things on the top shelf of the cupboard; two, they had absolutely no idea what decency and modesty meant, asking you if you were a virgin and what your favourite sex position was; and three, San was tactile, very tactile. So tactile that within ten minutes of meeting you, he was all over you, playing with your hair, running his fingers up your thigh much higher than was appropriate, and he even spanked your ass, which shocked you.

But with each passing day, they seemed to get bolder and more relaxed in your presence as the level of depravity only increased. Shared breakfasts were pure torture, as neither of them bothered to get dressed after a shower, and they walked around the house with only tiny towels hanging so dangerously low on their hips that you could practically see their dicks.

The vulgar comments and actions made you uneasy, and the sounds—God, they were immoral enough to watch porn at full volume in the middle of the common room. You also caught them masturbating a few times, and San even had the nerve to invite you to join in, while Mingi invited you to sit and enjoy the show.

This would have continued if the boys hadn't persuaded you to join them for a drink one night. A relatively innocent night ended with San and Mingi folding you in half, ripping off your panties in a rough manner, and exposing your plump, wet pussy to their hungry gazes. And to be honest, you didn't put up much of a fight. The sexual tension between you had reached a breaking point, and it was bound to happen sooner or later. 

Oh, and you learnt a few more things about them that night: One, cock piercings are a great way to get extra stimulation of your cunt; two, Minig does eat pussy like a champ, and he has quite a long tongue; three, Sun really knows how to fuck you until you squirt; and four, they were absolutely right when they said spit roasting is a great way to unwind.

[2tcs]

Day 4: Going to an event where a relative is performing and Planet

“Come on hurry up!” Steph’s excitement was contagious as Dick began bouncing on his toes as they tried to find a good spot to see the stage. Tim had offered to buy seats in the balcony to be able to see better without the crowd but apparently they needed the ‘full mosh experience’. 

“Who are these people again Steph?” Tim asked. He knew exactly who they were but it was always fun pretending he didn’t.

“Ugh. Tim! I know you know who the Specters are! And today they’re doing a face reveal at the end of the show!” Steph said as she started to bounce in place. Watching her and Dick standing next to each other reminds Tim of why he ordered more shots of espresso than normal. They were like excited puppies.

“Happy. Excited.” Cass whispered next to him while smiling at Steph and Dick.

“GOOD EVENING GOTHAM CITY!” The lead singer, Farshee, said as a toxic green glow and fog overtook the stage. “WE ARE THE SPECTERS. AND TONIGHT. TONIGHT WE WILL PLAY FOR YOU THE CONCERT OF THE DEAD!”

At the end of this announcement, the lights brightened to wight and the fog cleared and revealed the band members. Farshee the lead singer, Siren the lead guitar, Temptress on the bass guitar, and Jinx on the drums.

“LET’S SET THIS THING OFF!” Siren yelled before letting strumming her guitar as her and Temptress screamed before Farshee started singing.

Throughout the concert, Tim noticed how a lot of the songs involved accidents and death. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise considering the name of the band and the name they chose for this concert. Tim thinks he remembers Steph saying that it was the name that the band was using for their upcoming album. By the time the band Tim had completely forgotten the reveal. That is until Farshee took off his mask and Time was faced with the face of his twin. The twin he wasn’t supposed to know about. The twin that his parents had given up at birth. Holy shit! That way Daniel!

“So now you've seen our faces.” Farshee said with a slight smile on his lips as his bandmates took off their own masks. “My name is Danny.”

“My name is Ember. Remember it.” Siren said as she strummed a cord on her guitar.

“You can call me Kitty.” Temptress gave her name with a wink as Jinx walked up and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“And I’m Jonny. Sup.”

“Now I know many of you are wondering why we decided to reveal ourselves. Well in order for me to properly explain I need to clear up a common misconception about us. When we first started two years ago many of you pegged us as being metas. Now many of you have noticed that we never confirmed or denied this. And there's a reason for that.” After saying that Danny posed and seemed to be trying to fortify his nerves. As Tim looked at the other members of the band he noticed that they were all fidgeting.

“Nervous. Scared.” Cass said beside Tim.

“Scared of what? Met as are protected.” Steph asked as Dick got a serious look on his face.

“The truth is.” Danny started before nervously licking his lips. “The truth is that we’re not. Metas that is. We do have powers but those powers are something most of our people have. We're what the American government has dubbed an ecto-entities.We call ourselves spirits and ghosts. After tonight our website will have a forum posted for questions if you have any. But the main thing to know is that during Luthor's presidency a set of laws were passed called the Anti-Ecto Acts. These laws state that anything that is made of, produces, or consumes a substance called ectoplasm is to be handed over to the government for containment, experimentation, and disposal.” As Danny spoke more and more voices in the crowd started to shout in outrage at what was just implied.

“That goes in direct violation of the meta protection act.” Dick said in shock.

“Shit. Its real.” Tim gasped in shock as he looked up the law on his phone, catching the attention of some of the people around him who pulled out their phones to look at the law themselves.

“There’s a branch of the government that is tasked with enforcing this law. They are called the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW. Normally we would not be open with what we are due to this group but in the last month there has been a change. A large number of people nationwide have disappeared. Normally this would, sadly, be normal. People disappear every day. But our people keep a census on who and how many of us are on this side of the vail. And over a third of those people have disappeared practically overnight. So this is us. Calling out to the Justice League and you the people. Help us be able to exist in peace. Help us gain our freedom. And help us call out the US government. This government sanctioned genocide. And if you think that you are safe? That this doesn’t affect you? Just look around. How many people do you know who have had a brush with death? How many heroes do you know of who have died and then come back to life? Death leaves a mark. That is a saying that you hear everywhere. And it is true. Anyone who has been close to death has traces of ectoplasm on them. Therefore they are subject to the Anti-Ecto Act.” Sighing Danny looked up into the crowd. Searching for something before addressing the audience again. “I wish we could end this concert on a happy note. But I can’t brush this off anymore. I can’t ignore it anymore. And I hope you all reach out to your loved ones and make sure they're safe. I hope you all stay safe.”

With a final look around the stadium the Specters walked backstage, leaving everyone else to find their own exit.

“I think the B will want to hear about this.” Dick said.

“I think he’s going to have an aneurysm the moment he hears about this.” Steph adds.

“Mad.” Cass said with a nod.

“Typing up the report now and running a scan of all government documentation that references ghosts, spirits, ectoplasm, and the Anti-Ecto Acts. They’re set to automatically download and save a copy to my private laptop. That way I have a viable excuse if these GIW agents can see if their stuff is tampered with. So far I can see a lot of redacted files. This might take O getting involved.” Tim said before turning away from the exit to head backstage.

“And where are you going?” Dick asked.

“To talk to my brother.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t see anyone else here.” Steph said as she caught up with Tim.

“New old brother.” Cass smiled while looking at Tim.

“Ya Cass. Our parents gave him up for adoption when we were born so he probably doesn’t know. The only reason I know was after the first clone debacle with Cadmus and I did a search on my one face. Got a 99% match and looked into him. Our parents didn’t even give him a name.”

“Well that’s messed up. We’ll just have to make sure he knows that he is always welcome. You know B will have the papers signed the moment he sees him and finds out that he needs help.” Dick chimed in as he typed something on his phone. Judging by the chime that Tim heard from Steph and Cass phones he must have messaged the group chat.

“Hay you! You can’t go back there.” A guard said as they were about to head through the employees only doors.

“My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne. I want to help but I need to talk to the Specters to see if they would be willing to work with the Wayne lawyers to help fight the government. Would you please inform the band of my offer? Me and my family will wait here while you do.” Tim said before leaning against the wall making it clear he wasn’t going to leave until his request was fulfilled.

“I can ask if they will see you but no means no and if they don’t want to see you”

“Then we will leave. Now please inform them of my offer.”

“Pushy rich pricks.” The guard mumbled before gesturing for another guard to watch the door while he delivered the message.

A few minutes later and a coded report to Bruce's batphone the guard came back and waved them through the door and towards the break room that the band was using. Upon entering the room Tim noticed that the band had already changed out into more comfortable clothing and were lounging around the far side of the room. Except for Danny. He was sitting at a table that was placed in the middle of the room. When he noticed them enter he sat up straighter and gave a half smile.

“Hay Tim. Never thought we would ever get to meet face to face. Wish it was under better circumstances though.” Danny greeted them.

“You expected to meet me someday?” Tim asked as he took the seat across from Danny.

“A friend of mine pointed out how much we looked alike and we joked about it until my sister overheard us and mentioned that mom and dad kept my adoption papers with our baby memorabilia in the attic. I thought she was just joking and told her to prove it. So she grabbed the papers and showed them to me. Mr. and Mrs. Drake’s names were on the birth certificate. A little google searching and figured out that we were twins. I also know that you looked into me a few years back yourself.” Danny chuckled.

“After the Cadmus Labs were found to be doing cloning I got a bit paranoid and did a facial recognition scan on the internet. Found you and did my own digging. You looked happy. I didn’t want to intrude.” Tim said before pulling out his phone and bringing up the acts. “I can get a hold of my lawyers and have them fight the validity of this law. I can also make sure that you and your friends and family are safe.”

“Thank you Tim. And here. I was planning on getting Batman's attention while I was here and giving him this but considering the Wayne famile’s connections? This is just as good.” Danny said as he pushed a small cloth pencil bag over to Tim.

“A flash drive?” Dick asked as he looked over Tim’s shoulder as he opened the bag.

“Several flash drives.” Steph said as she took the bag from Tim and started counting.

“It’s all the information that me and my friends were able to get. They’re even color coded. green is for the laws and basic profiling. yellow is for the things that the GIW has been caught doing in public. And red is for the things that they have been doing behind closed doors. I would suggest leaving the red one for the Justice League. It has some really graphic stuff on it that someone who hasn’t seen the worst of humanity wouldn’t be able to handle.” Danny said while looking at his hands. “I don’t want you to see them.”

“They hurt you.” Cass said softly while hugging herself.

“Ya. They hurt me. And so many others… Tim. Here’s my personal number. If you or the League has any questions please don’t hesitate to ask. And here.” Danny began drawing on a piece of paper before handing what looked like a summoning circle over to Tim with his card. “That is a one time use summoning circle for Prince Phantom.”

“You know a Prince?” Dick asked.

“This is Tim’s twin brother. Are you seriously surprised that someone who shared a womb with this weirdo wouldn’t have strange acquaintances?” Steph asked while giving Dick a deadpan look.

“Fine. You have a point.” Dick pouted.

“Here. This is by business card and on the back is my personal cell number. I’ll make sure these get to the Bat. I’ll admit. I’m curious how you got involved with this. So if you’re willing. Can we talk about it?” Tim asked when he handed over his own card.

“Thanks. I’ll think about it. But me and my friends need to get moving so when the GIW storm Gotham looking for us we’ll be hidden away in one of the safe houses that we have set up.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay in one of the safehouses that we have set up?” Tim offered.

“No, but I appreciate the offer. It’s just safer if we don’t involve you any more than I already have.” Danny said while going over to the door and opening it. Clearly indicating the end of the discussion.

“Okay. Just know my offer stands. Talk to you later?”

“Ya. Talk to you later. Stay safe.” Danny said before shutting the door behind him.

“Welp. Back to work I guess.” Steph shrugged as she began to walk back the way they came.

“Don’t worry Tim. We’ll make sure these laws are repealed and you can set up a proper meeting with your twin.” Dick tried to reassure Tim as he wrapped one of his arms around Tim’s shoulder in a side hug.

“Protect brother.” Cass promised as she tapped her knuckles against Tim’s.

When they got home they called an emergency meeting in the batcave. And after Batman read through the law he took a quick glimpse of what was on the red flash drive. And immediately took the flash drives and headed to the watchtower.

[v3nusxsky]

Can you please do write dom! Emily finds out that sub!reader gets turned on when Emily gets bossy and Emily's uses it to her advantage to fuck reader senseless in Emily's office.

So bossy…. I like it 18+

*Authors note~ another break from sinful souls to bring you Emily prentiss. I’m not sure how I feel about this one :( I’m going to take this opportunity to wish my lovely girlfriend @just-your-casual-nerd a very happy one year anniversary ♥️criminal minds (and our love for incredibly talented beautiful attractive women such as prentiss JJ and Larissa Weems ) brought us together and I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life. I love you*

Trigger warnings~ sub r mommy dom! Emily strap warming, praise kink overstimulation for reader, oral on strap em loves Rs boobs more than life office sex, bossy Emily sort of free use reader oral fixation mentions

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your wife becoming the chief of the BAU was certainly an achievement, one you are incredibly proud of her for, but litre did you know, the change in job would do more than add to her pay packet. Being an assistant of Penelope Garcia is how you met your wife, at first you thought Emily Prentiss hated you, but after some time with JJ and Garcia convincing you to join them on girls night, you soon found out that was not the case. She wanted you, too much, and that scared the raven haired profiler. Now her wife, you can look back and laugh at how awkward you both were dancing around the attraction.

The power that woman holds not only as your wife, your dominant but now your boss too, turns out it’s a massive turn on for you. Seeing the way she commands the room had you soaking your panties embarrassingly quickly. It happened so much these days you just always packed a few pairs spare for the work day. It wasn’t your fault, she’s incredibly sexy. But you were growing tired of finding excuses to tell Garcia about why you are always running to the ladies room. But your wife, she had caught on to your extra items in your work bag, the way your pupils would dilate at team meetings and even the slight heat that would cover your cheeks and the tops of your breasts every time she was more stern. Dominance clearly did it for you no matter the context, something she could use to her advantage.

To say you and Em experiment in the bedroom would be putting it lightly, you are both kinky people with needs after all. One of your wife’s kinks happened to be free use, something you turned out to love, this kink being relatively new for you, it hadn’t came into play outside the house. Until today. Being called to her office was a usual occurrence, sometimes genuinely needing your skills, others a lunch date and even on occasions comfort after a rough meeting or case.

“Honey?” You murmured quietly as you entered her office, closing the door behind you. “Lock it” came the first demand, her stern tone sending a wave of arousal straight to your stomach, causing you to jump into action and obey. “Good girl, here now” she demanded in her authoritative tone, loving how you instantly seemed to slip into your submissive state. “Mommy?” You mumbled shyly, avoiding eye contact with her and awaited the next command.

A verbal command never came, she knew you’d safe word If you felt the need to, her strong hand came to push down on your shoulders causing you to kneel in front of the woman. “Under the desk bunny, mommy needs to use that pretty mouth of yours” the raven haired chief murmured to you, a smirk plastering itself on her lips at your enthusiastic gasp. Of course it took some effort to get in the right position, Emily utilising your distracted state to lose her trousers and free a girthy looking six inch dildo that was now strapped to her hips. Where had she hidden that this morning?

“Em” you started only be cut off by your wife, “poor girl, being all turned on at work, good job mommy noticed and can now finally put your skills to use hmm?” It sounded like a question, but you knew it wasn’t, being good for Emily meant waiting for permission to speak. Something you haven’t been given. “Now bunny, you will be my good girl and let mommy fuck your pretty mouth and then maybe I’ll take pitty on you and sort out your messy cunt” the raven haired woman commanded as she settled back in her chair allowing you access to her shaft while remaining hidden from any potential praying eyes.

Aches radiated their way through your cramped body, limbs fallen asleep as you remained pliant for your mommy. God knows how long she’d been lazily fucking your throat but it was starting to become raw with every deep thrust of her hips. Only when Emily decided she was satisfied with how far down into your submissive haze you were did she pull back smirking at your glazed over eyes and a string of spit that attached to the head of her cock and your now swollen mouth. “Oh good girl” she murmured appreciatively as she lent down to rip open your shirt, “god your beautiful baby girl, so good for me. So pretty.”

Her words seemed to muffle as you allowed her to pull you up from the desk shredding your poor excuse for tights and lace underwear exposing your cunt. The heat radiating from your core had your wife moaning happily and you gasping as the cold air hit your sensitive slit. “Mommy” you whined as you subconsciously tried to find the friction your body craved. “Shush sweet girl, I know, mommy knows. Precious bunny, you’re soaked. Warming mommys cock should be no problem right?” Her murmurs seeming to not register as she manipulated your body to the exact position she desired.

Straddling Emily Prentiss’s lap, her faux dick nestled tightly between your sopping walls, head nuzzled into her neck and breasts on full display was definitely not how you expected when you walked in here. Not that you were complaining. No. You were far too down in your subby haze to even care where you are. The only thought on your mind being to please mommy. It doesn’t matter if you cum you just want mommy satisfied. It’s one of the many things Emily adores about you.

Quite truthfully, it was a slow paperwork day in the bureau which allowed for her plan to unfold. Having you on her lap, soaking your thighs as well as hers, desperate to keep your moans quiet and not expose your situation was definitely a way to make the day more pleasant. “Pretty bunny and such a good cock warmer too. Sit up bun, mommy wants to look at these perfect tits” the way her words seem to reek of dominance caused you to whimper as you sat up. “Oh, mommy’s favourite white lace bra today hmm? Gods bunny you’re so perfect for me. Prettiest thing for mommy to use.”

Less than thirty minutes in, you were rocking your hips into hers, lips lazily sucking on the junction between her neck and shoulder. Needy. You’d definitely marked your mommy, not that she minded at all, but getting you off was not the main purpose of this. A slap the tops of your breasts seemed to halt any movement, “behave bunny, mommys working now.” If you were more coherent you wouldn’t protested, but your body is beginning to lose the fight against exhaustion and need. “Please mommy, so sticky! Please help me mommy. I need you to.” You whimpered pathetically causing the other woman to grab your hair into a make shift ponytail before yanking you off the faux cock and throwing you over her desk.

“Just couldn’t behave and wait could you? Never seem to follow mommys orders so I guess you need a lesson. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s checking in or safewords. Do you understand little girl” she practically snarled at you while teasing your messy cunt with the soaked strap. A hard smack to the globes of your arse remind you that you hadn’t replied. “I understand” you mumbled guilt soaking the words, you’d failed to make mommy happy, “I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t help the squeak of protest as you felt her enter your red puffy pussy, with how oversensitive your poor abused hole was feeling you knew staying quiet would be extremely difficult. “Shut up and take what mommy gives you. My own personal bunny to fuck whenever I want. However I want.” She grunted in between harsh thrusts of her hips, causing your body to slam into her desk repeatedly. You’d definitely have bruises.

As predicted with her spewing words in between her thrusts you were struggling to keep quiet, frantically searching through bleary eyes for something to put in your mouth. Obviously the profiler part of your wife noticed and ever so kindly lent over your body to shove her fingers into your awaiting mouth. “Pretty girl just needs to suckle on mommys fingers hmm? God I love your pretty pussy baby. Mommy loves you so much baby girl” she groaned as she came again causing you to also come with her. You’d be lying if you said you kept track of how many orgasms she’d given you over the table as well as warming her strap before she finally gentled pulled out and started aftercare.

The strap now hidden in her draw she yanked the blanket off the back of her chair, gently settled you In the chair before unlocking the door and setting you on her lap. Instantly your body turned to snuggle into the older woman, blanket wrapped around you causing you to sigh contentedly. “So good for me sweet girl, rest my love, I’m right here then we will go clean up and head home to have a nice bath hmm?” She whispered before trailing off to hum the same tune she did when your nightmares plagued your sleep. You drifted off to your slumber in the arms of the woman you love, safe and content and throughly satisfied.

Word count~ 1970

[castiwls]

mothers day .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; your son wants to make mothers day special and who else better to drag into his plans then his tennis coach! the same tennis coach who really really want's to make a move properly this time.

Notes; I may start a tag list for this if I get enough interest? hm

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

“Careful! That took us way too long for you to drop it at the finish line” 

Noah grinned his grip tightening on the tray he was currently holding. He slowed his pace down, climbing the steps one at a time to not drop the food. Being woken up at 6 am on a Sunday was far from his ideal weekend but Noah had insisted that they make you breakfast before you could beat them to it.

“Grandma helped me last year but she's on holiday and I can’t use the stove…mom’ll get mad.” He’d pleaded doing his puppy dog eyes alongside it and Patrick had folded almost immediately. An hour and a half later they’d managed to make a decent meal of pancakes and bacon.

“Wait.” Noah paused by his bedroom door, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before looking at Patrick. “Can you get the present for me?” He smiled as Patrick rolled his eyes letting out a small huff. “Jesus kid it’s not even 9 am yet and you’ve had me working my ass off here.”

Noah grinned slightly sheepishly. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

You’d honestly forgotten about Mother's day. Sure your mom normally made sure Noah got you something but with your parents being away you’d just assumed that this year wouldn’t be a fuss. 

The last thing you’d expected was to be woken up by your son at 7:30 with a full breakfast and a gift. Your son had practically been vibrating in excitement when he’d showed you his work. 

“Happy Mother's Day!” He placed the tray down with surprising carefulness for a nine-year-old before jumping up next to you. “How did you do all this?” You wrapped an arm around him as he shuffled closer and your eyes narrowed slightly. The small smile which pulled at your lips softened the accusing look you’d sent him as he smiled innocently.

“Technically he didn't do it” Patrick hummed leaning casually against the door, the gift bag hanging loosely in his grasp. “I helped!’ Noah frowned.

“You threw flour everywhere.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as Noah flushed slightly. “I cleaned it up!” He argued. Patrick shook his head pushing off the door to sit at the edge of the bed. “You did. You did.”

You smiled watching the two quietly. Patrick staying around had become more and more common in the months since your sons birthday. It was more common than not at this point for him to show up and stay the weekend, something which Noah loved. Your son seemed happier than ever and loved having both you and Patrick around, even you’d found yourself enjoying his company.

You’d never admit that you liked waking up to him and Noah in the kitchen. It was nice to have another person other than your son around.

“You know you didn’t have to do anything.” You smiled. Noah shook his head with a stubborn pout. “It’s Mother's Day! You do stuff for my birthday!” He reasoned pushing the tray closer. Patrick smiled watching as your son chatted eagerly in your ear as you ate.

Quietly placing the bag down he stood slowly deciding to give you both some space but before he could reach the door his name was called. “Patrick, where are you going?” Both you and Noah had stooped to watch him.

You waited quietly for a response as he hovered in the doorway, his eyes glancing from the hall to you. “I was just gonna go clean up.”

A small frown pulled at your lips as your teeth gnawed on your lip for a moment. You didn’t want him to leave but you also understood that he might not want to be pulled into this any more than he had. 

He was still only technically a friend and even friend was only used lightly. Sure he wasn’t as annoying as he’d been at first, he’d almost calmed down in a way. His once relatively childish pursuit of you seemed to have halted.

You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made some sort of sexual joke or made you want to smack the arrogant smirk right off his stupidly handsome face.

He was actually becoming a decent person and part of you hated to admit how much you liked this new version of him.

“No rush…unless you have anything else to do?” You were slightly hesitant as you spoke, your voice faltering almost as you left the offer open. You were leaving the ball in his court to see what he would do.

He could make an excuse now and spend his day alone…or he could take the opening.

And he really wanted to take your opening.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Didn’t you watch this las-”

“Shh. You’re missing it.”

Patrick scoffed shaking his head with an amused smile watching as you focused back on the screen again. Noah was happily tucked between you both, picking absentmindedly at the chocolates you’d opened only a few hours before.

You’d been given full control of the TV for the day and quickly chose a movie that Patrick was beginning to realise was a common staple in your home. He sighed quietly saying your name as his head rolled back against the headboard. “You watched this on Friday.”

“And I’ll continue to watch it.” 

He opened his mouth, ready to make another comment before you cut him off. “Another word, and I'm cancelling the sports package.” Patrick's eyes widened, and his shoulders tensed for a moment. “You wouldn’t…”

Noah’s own eyes widened at your threat and for a moment you thought they were about to bug out of his head as you reached for your phone. “One click and it’s gone.” He shook his head looking back to Patrick with wide eyes. 

A small smile pulled at his lips as he reached over to ruffle his hair. “Your mom’s just joking.” Patrick’s eyes met yours and you raised an eyebrow. “I think.” He murmured. You shrugged placing your phone back down. “Complain about my movie choices one more time and I won’t be.”

A look of relief crossed Noah’s face as he settled back into the pillows. The room fell quiet again, the sound of the TV filling the silence as the three of you went back to watching. You felt Noah shift ever closer, his head resting against your chest as he fiddled with the cover.

Patrick’s head tilted down slightly at the feeling of Noah shifting, the hand that wasn’t intertwined with the covers tugging on the side of his sweatpants in a silent request. He frowned for a moment before catching on to what the boy wanted when he tugged particularly hard.

Taking a breath he shifted slightly closer a small happy sound leaving Noah as he was now cushioned between you both. You paid no mind, simply watching the screen and missing the wide-eyed look Patrick sent you for a moment as your son all but demanded to be cuddled by you both.

This had to be crossing some sort of line…right?

He was already crossing a line the minute he’d taken your offer to join you both in your bed but now, now he knew he was pushing it. He half expected you to notice and push him from the bed for overstepping his boundaries but you didn't.

You didn’t say anything.

After a moment he managed to will himself to relax, shifting slightly for a moment as his arm rested awkwardly in his lap. 

“Patrick, what's wrong?” You murmured looking over for a moment with a draw in your eyebrows. “Nothing. Nothing.” He shook his head settling down. You watched him shift his arm again so it didn’t press against the boy who now seemed fully enraptured by the movie. 

You watched him struggle for a moment before finally taking sympathy for him and reaching over to move his arm to rest on the pillows behind you both. Patrick’s arm tenses for a moment before his fingers graze against your shoulders.

You both settle back, matching smiles pulling at your lips.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Okay. He’s down.” 

Patrick glanced up from the plate he’d been washing as you entered the kitchen. “Nine years old and still demands his mom puts him to bed huh?”

“He’s still young!” You smiled moving to place a stray cup away before shutting the cupboard. “In a few years, he isn’t gonna even wanna be living in the same house as me.”

Patrick chuckled placing a plate on the drying rack. “I find that hard to believe. I don’t remember making my mom pancakes on Mother’s Day at the age of nine.” A quiet hum left you as he turned grabbing a tea towel to dry his hands. 

“I'm also pretty sure he was very clear that you shouldn’t be anywhere near the stove today?” He raised an eyebrow as you shrugged him off leaning against the counter. “Hey, I'm technically not near it.” You gestured across the kitchen. “You’re the one stood by it.”

Looking back he pursed his lips seeing you were correct. “Touche.” You watched as he placed the towel down before slowly approaching you. Your hip rested against the counter as he came to stand before you, his eyes trailing over your face for a moment.

His lips curled slightly as his eyes softened. “Your ex is possibly the stupidest guy alive, " he murmured after a moment. Your eyes narrowed briefly before a quiet laugh left your lips at his comment. “What?”

“He’s the stupidest guy alive for ever letting you go.”

Your breath caught for a moment as his words registered. He hummed quietly his hand reaching over to rub over your waist for a moment gently. “Well…his loss is someone else's gain.” You said, your voice was soft almost as if you were scared to talk too loud and break the moment.

The last time he’d touched you like this was minutes before you’d both ended up tangled in your sheets but this seemed different. Last time the only emotion you’d felt besides a slight disdain was lust. Now though? Now lust was the last thing on your mind.

“Patrick,” You sighed. “I can’t do another one-night stand. Noah needs stability an-”

“Hey. I’m not looking for another one-night stand.” He reassured. “If that's what I’d wanted I wouldn’t be standing in your kitchen five months after we already had one.” His thumb rubbed slow circles as his other hand hesitantly brushed a strand of your hair back before cupping your cheek. 

“Just…let me prove it to you alright? Prove that I’m serious about this.  About you and Noah.” You felt yourself leaning into his touch almost like two magnets finally being close enough to attract after months of teatheing on the edge. 

“Patrick you don’t need to prove that.” His eyebrows furrowed as you spoke confusion flashing across his features for a moment. “You proved that to me the minute you woke up at 6 am this morning to help him make pancakes.” His eyes lit up almost as you laughed quietly.

“So…If I asked you out properly you won't hit me.” He grinned feeling on cloud nine as you rolled your eyes pretending to think for a moment.

“You get one chance.”

[queenpiranhadon]

okay I'm sorry but I'm in celebrity Satoru Gojo married to actress reader chokehold.

Don't know how aware you all are about the one video where Ryan Reynolds interviews Brandon Sklenar because he's playing the love interest of his wife's character and that is PEAK Gojo behavior.

You're actually in a different city while this is happening, off for an interview with Buzzfeed.

Anyways, your upcoming movie, titled In the Stars, is about a young woman named Sora who had been diagnosed with cancer, and with only a few months left to live, she decides to live the life she's always wanted. One of love.

She eventually decides to pursue one of her lifelong interests of stargazing, something she's always been interested in as a child. Sora however never got to achieve her dream of becoming an astrologist due to her father's death at age 17, having to now juggle hospital and funeral bills without a very stable job.

With only a few hours to live however, she goes camping, only to almost murder a man who encounters her campsite by accident because she was startled.

The man's name was Daichi, he was a college professor who taught astronomy and was immediately overjoyed at Sora's enthusiasm for the sky.

The two ended up becoming close friends, regularly going out to camp with each other, and slowly gaining feelings along the way.

However, they're too late.

After one last camping trip, Sora wakes up vomiting uncontrollably and Daichi worriedly takes her to the hospital.

She's hooked up to millions of tubes and liquids, but it's futile. Sora passes away, leaving Daichi to mourn her on earth, hoping she's happy in the stars.

It's a relatively cliche plot, and yet, the movie becomes such a big hit because of you. The way you portray your character with so much genuine pain and longing, is what hooked the world in from the start.

Satoru couldn't have been more proud of you.

He's just a little disgruntled that your "love story" wasn't with him.

He knew it wasn't serious, but Satoru Gojo also tended to have a jealous streak - after watching the trailer for the movie he was unimpressed, because no one who truly loves you would ever look at you that way.

However that knowledge did help him feel a little better because it was just a movie after all, just acting.

That didn't stop him from causing shenanigans though.

Your coworker was a nice guy, his name was Ren Akiyama, and he was just a few years younger than Satoru and yourself.

The interviewer exits abruptly, leaving Ren confused in his chair, only for the famous Satoru Gojo to enter the set and sit in the interviewer's chair, with some cards of his own.

Ren looks around, muttering an "Oh boy, get me out of here", as your husband clears his throat, cameras trained on him.

"So...Ren, is it? You and Mrs. Gojo seem very close, do you call her anything special, like a nickname or-"

Ren cuts him off with a shake of his head. "No sir."

The interview begins to resemble that of every father's first interrogation of his daughter boyfriend, except in very different circumstance as we see Satoru grill the poor man about his relationship with you.

It's hilarious and endearing, seeing how much Satoru loves you and his interactions with Ren are quite entertaining as well.

It's even more adorable when the press catch you and Satoru going into the theaters to watch your movie, even after watching the premiere and seeing Satoru's eyes visibly tear up as he holds you tight, watching Sora's last living moments in her hospital bed, Daichi by her side.

He really does love you so much.

A/N: I acc loved writing this omg hahah - should I write more about this??

[stevesbipanic]

For the lovely @withacapitalp happy birthday Liam hope you have the best day today!!!!

Steve had been pacing around the apartment all morning. Well, pacing wasn't really the right word, Eddie would describe it more like having the same zoomies their cat Toothpaste has at 3am.

You see today was–"It's Robin Day, Eds!" As his lovely boyfriend had practically screamed in his ear at 5am. "And it will still be Robin day when you return from your job at a normal waking hour, babe."

Eddie had hoped the jog would've gotten some of the energy out of Steve's system but he seemed more hyper on his return, at least he'd brought Eddie coffee.

"Love, Robin isn't even on the plane yet."

"I know, but it's today, Eds."

Steve looked so bright it made all of Eddie's sleepiness fade away. It had been hard, living away from Robin. They'd all shared an apartment when she went away for college but by the time she got a job in New York, Steve and Eddie were not only dating finally but settled into Chicago life.

They spoke every day of course, Robin and Steve never missed a nightly catch up of the day's events, Eddie didn't even know what they'd talk about once they were in the same state again. Eddie knew Robin would always be Steve's number one and he loved that about him.

There was one other thing about today though. "Sweetheart, you know it's not just Robin Day, right?"

Steve looked confused at his boyfriend, kind of like the way a puppy looks when you move his toy.

"What could be more important about today than that."

Eddie began humming a specific tune wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh, right, my birthday, 24 isn't exactly a big deal Eds," Steve said rolling his eyes.

Eddie laughed, "Your birthday is the reason Robin's coming, sunshine, plus after the number of times we've both almost died I think every birthday is a big deal."

Steve nodded his head and returned the embrace Eddie had been giving him, "True, you think you're gonna have a quarter life crisis in August, Mr 25?"

Eddie grinned, "Oh yeah, I think imma buy a guitar and start a band." Steve laughed, while Corroded Coffin never got famous they got relatively well known in the local scene, Tuesdays were now a regular gig at The Squire downtown.

"Four hours til she lands," Steve said kissing Eddie's cheek and running upstairs to make sure the guest room was ready for the tenth time. "Still not on the plane yet!" Eddie called up laughing.

Four and a half hours later their loving room was filled with laughter and joy once more. "And then the guy asked the flight attendant for another ginger ale and Steve this man was looking green and you know how I don't deal with sick people well I'm surprised I survived the flight at all," Robin rambled filling Steve in on her flight from hell.

"Honestly, you should just move back here, save yourself the flight," Steve joked. Robin glanced at Eddie, one little birthday surprise they hadn't told Steve yet.

"Actually, my contract is ending in two weeks, and um, they offered to extend it at...their Chicago office."

Steve was frozen, if Eddie didn't know better he'd think Vecna had returned from the dead to finish them off after all these years. Then the screaming started.

"YOU'RE MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

"I'M MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

Pretty soon everyday would be Robin Day and with his boy looking that happy Eddie wouldn't want it any other way.

[ellswritings]

I Knew You Were Trouble

Ex!Evan Buckley x reader

Eddie Diaz x reader

TW: Emotional and physical cheating (from Buck), heartbroken reader, 118 supporting reader, Eddie picking up the pieces, angsty fluff.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Evan Buckley. The moment his piercing blue eyes showed up at the 118, Y/N knew she was in for it. His flirty smile, the forward flirting, it was hard not to fall for it. Y/N has never been the type to fall for a guy just because he flashes a smile, but something about the way his nose crinkled whenever he grinned at her, it made her heart flutter.

Y/N L/N has always had a strong personality. She was part of the LAPD for five years before going through the Fire academy. She was the best in both of her fields. Always professional, super playful, witty, reasonable, and always down for a good time. That’s why she fit in so well with the team at the 118 when she was placed there. Hen and Chimney were the first two she met, then Captain Bobby Nash came rolling in. He clicked seamlessly with them too. And then… Buck.

On paper, he was perfect. At least in Y/N’s eyes he was. Despite his constant need to go against Bobby’s orders, she could never truly dislike the boy. Did she think he could be irrational and dumb sometimes? Absolutely. But that’s one of the things she found endearing about him.

And that’s also the reason he fell for her. Everyone on the team treated him like some idiot kid who was just a ticking time bomb. But not Y/N. She treated him like an equal, like a partner. Even when he immaturely would flirt with her on shift, tease her, blatantly but playfully check her out, she still never once genuinely got irritated with him.

So when the two of them started dating, the team wasn’t necessarily surprised. It was around that time a new recruit came into the 118. Edmundo Diaz, or as he likes to go by, Eddie. He was the missing piece the 118 needed. It felt like a full fledged family when Eddie showed up. He and Buck didn’t get along at first, but Y/N, being the effervescent force she is, managed to make them get along.

The team was amazing. Going on calls was a breeze because they all just worked so well together. Even team outings were an absolute blast because everyone got along. They are truly one big happy family.

Of course though, Eddie, Buck, and Y/N always had a deeper connection with each other than the others. Perhaps it’s because they’re so close in age, but they truly just clicked. When Eddie originally showed up to the firehouse, he wasn’t oblivious to how genuinely beautiful Y/N is. Her infectious smile and booming laugh would catch any man or woman’s attention. He would have pursued her if Buck hadn’t already won that battle.

They were always relatively professional at the job. Out of the two of them, Buck seemed to have the hardest time keeping his hands off of her. Stealing kisses here and there, smacking her behind when he thinks no one’s looking. They were happy, and anyone with eyes could see it.

At least until Taylor Kelly came into the picture.

When they got the call that her news helicopter had a mechanical failure, no one really thought anything would’ve came out of it. Y/N was pretty much in the midst of all of it, being the one to pull Taylor out of the situation while the rest of the group helped her crew and got the copter under control.

However, despite Y/N saving her life, the redheads attention was solely focused on Buck. Something that not only Y/N noticed, but the rest of the team.

It only got worse when Taylor showed up to the firehouse, claiming she would be following the 118 crew around until she felt comfortable enough to go back into the sky. Not only was Bobby annoyed, but Y/N wasn’t too thrilled to be seeing her around. Especially with the way she’s been paying special attention to her boyfriend.

Now, Y/N has never been the jealous type. She knows Buck is good looking and that other people are bound to think so too. Whenever they go out, there’s always one or two drunk individuals that try to slip him their number, but he’s never entertained any of them. After the whole Abby fiasco, his eyes have only ever been on Y/N.

That’s why she tried her hardest to ignore Taylor’s persistent behavior. She also tried to ignore how much Buck seemed to enjoy the attention. She had to remind herself of how much she loves and trusts Evan Buckley. Still, some reassurance would’ve been nice.

Anytime she’d talk to Hen and Athena about it, they’d share a look before saying that it’s just Buck’s personality. He’s a flirty guy. But that he’s never been as committed to someone as he is to her. That was always nice to hear. Even Chimney and Bobby found small ways to tell her that she has nothing to worry about.

That’s why it stung so much to walk into her apartment, one that she asked Buck to move into to get him out of Abby’s, only to find him and Taylor naked on her couch.

Her entire world crashed down around her that night. Neither of them seemed to even hear her walk in as they were still mid action and didn’t look like they were stopping anytime soon.

Y/N being as quick witted as she is, snapped a photo of their dalliance before spinning on her heel and slamming the door behind her. Anger, hurt, frustration, grief, any emotion someone could think of, she felt it that night. As soon as she got in her car, tears started flowing freely down her face. She had no idea what she was going to do with that photo. Some part of her just knew she needed proof, a reminder of what she just saw. Because she knows as soon as Buck comes crawling back to apologize, she’d forgive him in an instant.

That’s why she picked staying in her car for the night over going back there. Even though it’s her apartment, her safe space, she couldn’t bear going back. Not right now at least. Every single call he made went without an answer, all the texts, emails, all of it. She didn’t even bother to read.

Sleep didn’t come easy for the poor woman. In fact, it didn’t come at all. She simply stared out her front window, arms crossed as she buried herself deeper into her hoodie. So when the sun came out, Y/N couldn’t have been more relieved. Work was the one place where she wouldn’t have to confront this. Maintaining professionalism is of the utmost importance to her, so for the next twelve hours, she can shove all of these issues to the side.

Y/N walked into the 118 station that morning with an air of quiet fury. Her normally upbeat energy was replaced by a stiff, almost mechanical demeanor. The shift in her mood was impossible to miss. Her jaw was set, her eyes distant, and the usual lightness in her step was gone, replaced by rigid, purposeful movements. She walked past the common area without so much as a word, heading straight to the locker room to stow her gear.

The station was never completely quiet, but as Y/N entered, it felt like the atmosphere shifted, as though everyone unconsciously held their breath. Bobby was the first to notice her as she passed by his office.

“Morning, Y/N,” he greeted her, his usual warm smile in place. But Y/N, normally quick with a bright ‘Good morning,’ barely glanced his way.

“Hey, Cap,” she muttered, not slowing her pace. Her voice was flat, a stark contrast to her usual chipper tone.

Bobby frowned, watching her as she moved further into the station. He’d been a captain long enough to know when one of his firefighters was struggling with something, and Y/N’s behavior set off alarm bells in his mind. She wasn’t being rude—she was too professional for that—but her unusually short response made it clear something was off.

Y/N reached her locker, tugging it open with more force than necessary. Her hands moved quickly as she shoved her bag inside, not caring that it landed haphazardly. She was wound so tightly that every movement seemed deliberate, controlled, like she was holding back a flood of emotions threatening to escape.

Hen, who had been watching from the other side of the room, approached carefully. She knew Y/N well enough to see that something was seriously wrong. Normally, Y/N would joke about the early mornings or make some witty comment to lighten the mood, but today, she was all business.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hen said softly, leaning against the lockers beside her. “You okay?”

Y/N paused, her hands gripping the edge of her locker door for a moment before letting out a sharp exhale. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied curtly, closing the locker with a loud clang.

Hen didn’t buy it, and neither did the rest of the team, who were now quietly exchanging glances from across the room. Chimney, watching from the doorway, nudged Eddie.

“Something’s definitely up,” Chim whispered. “She doesn’t look like she’s slept.”

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on Y/N, his brows furrowed in concern. She was usually the first to crack a joke, the one to bring energy into the room, but today, her whole demeanor was different. She was stiff, guarded, and Eddie could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself together with an almost frightening precision.

“Y/N,” Eddie called out softly as he approached. “You sure you’re okay?”

Y/N glanced at him briefly before looking away, her lips pressed into a thin line. She appreciated the concern, but she didn’t want to get into it—not here, not now. “I’m fine, Eddie,” she said, her voice clipped but not harsh.

Eddie didn’t push, though his eyes stayed on her, worry etched in every line of his face. He knew Y/N well enough to know that ‘fine’ wasn’t fine at all.

As Y/N moved through the rest of her morning routine, the tension around her only grew. Her movements were brisk, efficient, but there was a hardness to her that wasn’t normally there. She didn’t engage in small talk, didn’t banter with the team like usual. The shift in her behavior was like a cloud hanging over the station, and everyone could feel it.

Then Buck walked in, his entrance loud and hurried, as though he was already feeling the weight of the guilt on his shoulders. He looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept, and his eyes immediately locked onto Y/N.

Her entire body tensed the moment he entered. She could feel his presence without even looking at him, the air between them thick with unresolved tension. She didn’t want to deal with this right now—especially not at work. But Buck, clearly desperate to make things right, approached her anyway.

“Y/N, can we talk? Please?” Buck’s voice was quiet but urgent as he moved toward her.

Y/N stiffened even more, her back straightening as she turned to face him. Her eyes were cold, and her lips pressed into a tight, thin line. “Now’s not the time or place, Evan.”

He flinches at the cold use of his first name, “Please, Y/N, I just… I need to explain,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he took another step closer.

Y/N tenses, her grip tightening around the locker door. She swallows hard, mortified that he’s bringing this up here, in front of everyone. She glances around and sees Chimney and Eddie looking at Buck with something akin to disgust. Hen’s brow is furrowed in confusion, and even Bobby has stopped pretending to read the morning paper.

Y/N hesitated, hating that he’s cornering her in the only other place she thought she’d be safe. The woman was trying so hard to stay professional, but he wasn’t making it easy. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the station on her, and the last thing she wanted was to make a scene.

“Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth, motioning for him to follow her to a quieter corner of the station.

Once they were away from the rest of the team, Buck wasted no time. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with anger, her composure slipping just a little. “You didn’t mean for it to happen?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous. “You’re telling me you just accidentally ended up screwing Taylor on my couch?”

Buck winced at her words, his guilt written all over his face. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I was confused.”

“Confused?” Y/N’s voice was sharper now, her anger bubbling to the surface. “That’s your excuse? You didn’t know what you were doing?”

“I was in a bad headspace, Y/N. It just—” Buck struggled for words, clearly not understanding how badly he was making things. “It didn’t mean anything. You and me, we’re the real thing. That with Taylor… it was just a mistake.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, disbelief and fury warring in her chest. “A mistake?” she echoed, her voice trembling with the effort of holding back her rage. “No,” she scoffs. “No. No, a mistake is when you lose your keys. What you did was make a blatant choice without thinking of the consequences.”

Buck’s face flushed, and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. Please, I can’t lose you.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated on me!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. The anger she had been holding back all morning finally erupted, spilling out into the open. Her words echoed through the station, drawing the attention of everyone around them.

Buck’s face paled as he realized the entire team had heard her outburst. He looked around, embarrassment flooding him, but Y/N didn’t care. She was too angry, too hurt to worry about how this looked.

“Y/N—”

“No, Buck!” she yelled, her hands trembling as she tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to stand here and pretend like it didn’t mean anything. You cheated on me. You lied to me. And now you want me to just… what? Forgive you because it didn’t ‘mean anything’?” She shakes her head, failing at stopping herself from making the situation worse. “You try to act like you’ve changed, but you’re still the same freakin’ playboy who had sex with every girl who paid him the slightest bit of attention.”

The station was dead silent. The rest of the team, though trying not to stare, couldn’t help but listen to every word.

Buck’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled for a response, but nothing came out. The weight of Y/N’s words seemed to hit him all at once, and the guilt that had been simmering beneath the surface came crashing down on him.

Before Buck could say anything else, Y/N shook her head, her voice breaking. “I can’t do this anymore. I– I just– I can’t. We’re done.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

The silence in the station hung heavy until Hen was the first to break it, her voice firm. “What the hell, Buck?”

Chimney sighed, his disappointment evident. “You messed up, man. You don’t do that to someone like Y/N.”

Bobby, usually the voice of reason, stepped in, his tone stern. “You need to figure out how you’re going to make this right. But more importantly, you need to take responsibility for your actions, Buck. This wasn’t just a mistake. It’s a breach of trust. We don’t do things like that to each other.”

Buck looked around, his face pale as he realized just how badly he had screwed up. But it was Eddie who delivered the harshest blow. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with barely concealed anger.

“You had something good, Buck,” Eddie said, his voice low but full of emotion. “And you threw it away. She deserved better than that. Better than you.”

Buck’s face fell, the weight of Eddie’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. Eddie never spoke like that—especially not to his friends—but this was different. This was Y/N. And Eddie wasn’t just mad—he was furious.

As Buck stood there, looking like the ground had been ripped out from under him, Eddie turned on his heel and followed Y/N outside. He found her pacing near one of the firetrucks, her hands shaking as she tried to calm herself down.

“Y/N,” Eddie called out softly.

She paused, glancing up at him, her eyes red and glassy. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though it was clear she wasn’t. She won’t let any actual tears fall. Not here. Not at work. She can’t lose it.

Eddie sighs before taking a gentle step forward. He stops her pacing by grabbing her hands as delicately as possible. He can feel the furious energy buzzing through her skin. It’s a rage similar to his own. As he looks into her gorgeous (e/c) eyes, his anger morphs into pain. His heart aches at how broken she looks. She trusted Buck with every fiber of her being and he took it for granted. He took her for granted. How could he throw away such a beautiful soul?

“No, mariposa, you’re not,” he shakes his head. His deep chocolate gaze makes her shoulders slump. Her tense posture falls, knowing that there’s no point in lying to him. For whatever reason, Eddie has always been able to read her like an open book. She couldn’t keep secrets with him. He knew them before she even knew herself. “Everything that happened in there… that’s not fine. So please, don’t pretend with me.”

Y/N finally forced herself to open up. She exhales shakily, blowing a big puff of air out as she laughs brokenly. A small sniffle escapes her, “It just… hurts, y’know? I mean, I kinda picked up on something weird with them, but I thought I was just being paranoid,” she looks back down at her boot-clad feet. “I try not to be jealous, I feel like it makes me look crazy. But… I guess I should’ve trusted my gut.” She sends a halfhearted glare over at Buck who’s still standing in the middle of the fire station, trying to avoid everyone’s wrath. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey,” Eddie stops her, a serious look on his face. He moves one hand to cup her chin, forcing her to look back at him. “You are not the idiot in this situation. He is,” he nods in Buck’s direction. “He didn’t see the amazing woman he had right in front of him. He’s the biggest damn idiot in the world for losing you.”

Y/N feels like she can let her walls crumble around Eddie. There’s something about the way his strong presence grounds her, silently reassuring her that he’s there, that he’s supporting her. She relaxes into his soft touch, “I just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do now. I mean, he lives with me.”

Eddie hesitates for a moment before pulling her fully into him, wrapping his arms around her as she rests her head on his chest. “Well, the best answer I can give you is that you continue being you. And trust me, there’s someone out there who’s going to see how incredible you are and never take it for granted. Someone who would treat you like the gem you are.” He pauses before planting a soft kiss on her forehead, “And if you want, you can always stay with Chris and I until he gets all of his stuff cleared out.”

Y/N looks up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I think I might take you up on that.” She swallows, trying to keep herself together. “But… what if I don’t want to go through all of that again? Maybe I’m not meant to find anyone else. What if I’m just…done with relationships?”

Eddie’s expression softened even further. He knew how hard this was for her, and part of him hated seeing her in so much pain, especially because of someone like Buck. But he also knew she was stronger than she gave herself credit for. “You’re not done, Y/N. You’re just hurt right now. But you’ll heal, and when you’re ready, you’ll move on. And when that happens, you’ll find someone who’s going to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

Y/N searched his face for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. There was something in the way Eddie was looking at her—something she hadn’t noticed before. A tenderness, an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She blinked, trying to shake off the feeling. Now wasn’t the time. “Thanks, Eddie,” she whispered, her voice shaky but sincere.

He gave her a small smile, his hand lingering near hers for just a moment longer before he stepped back. “Anytime.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Eddie wanted to tell her that he was there for her in more ways than just friendship, but he knew this wasn’t the right moment. Y/N had just been through hell, and she needed space to heal.

But he also knew that if she ever needed him—really needed him—he’d be there without hesitation.

Before Y/N could respond, the station doors opened, and Hen walked out, giving them both a look. “Everything alright out here?”

Y/N straightened up, wiping her face quickly and nodding. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Hen gave her a knowing look but didn’t push. “Alright. We’re heading out for a call in a few minutes, so just wanted to make sure you were ready.”

Y/N took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the day ahead. “I’m ready,” she said, her voice more steady now.

Hen nodded and headed back inside, leaving Y/N and Eddie standing there in the quiet. Eddie looked at her one last time, his eyes filled with a silent promise. “You’ve got this.”

Y/N nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I’ve got this.”

As they walked back inside together, the weight of the day ahead still heavy on Y/N’s shoulders, she knew that it was going to take time to fully heal. But with Eddie by her side and the support of the rest of her team, she knew she wasn’t facing it alone.

And as for Buck? She wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was clear: she deserved better than what he had given her. And one day, she’d find it. But for now, she’d focus on what she did best—being a damn good firefighter and an even better person.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Working a twelve hour shift on absolutely no sleep had to have been the worst decision Y/N could have made. It’s not that she isn’t capable of doing her job, it’s just her emotions were already on overdrive after seeing Buck, but now that exhaustion is kicking in, it’s not good for anyone.

She pulls the hair tie out of her hair as she grabs the remaining items from her locker. Her eyes travel over to Eddie who is already waiting by the entrance of the firehouse for her. He sends her a small smile and she returns it, a small flutter in her chest catching her off guard. Y/N internally scolds herself for staring too long. She’s always found Eddie attractive, but she just got out of a relationship with Buck. Now is not the time to be casting ogling glances to Eddie.

She slings her bag over her shoulder before heading out of the locker room. Thankfully, she has enough clothes in her bag for the next few days to bring to Eddie’s so she doesn’t have to go back home. She bids a proper goodbye to everyone, narrowly avoiding Buck who just walked out of the showers. He looks like a wounded puppy when he watches Y/N walk away.

He walks away dejectedly, trying to avoid the angry stares from the rest of the team. Y/N feels a certain level of safety as she continues growing closer to the Diaz man. To her dismay though, someone felt the need to disrupt her journey.

Taylor.

“Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?” She asks, tilting her head in a way that makes Y/N clench her jaw.

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea,” Y/N replies smoothly.

Taylor persists, “I’m just asking for a second of your time.”

“To interview me professionally or to try and explain why you were butt ass naked on my couch?” Y/N raises a confrontational eyebrow, yet her tone remains collected. Taylor purses her lips, trying to fight off her own embarrassment as more people in the firehouse look over to them. Eddie takes a few steps closer, getting ready to intervene if needed.

“Look, you have every right to be angry–”

“Oh, I know,” Y/N nods, crossing her arms. “I don’t need your permission or you to tell me I have the right to do anything.”

Taylor sucks in a deep breath, clearly getting impatient. “I just think that maybe you’re being too hard on Buck. He really was in a rough place. I think you owe it to him to hear him out.”

“Really?” Y/N lets out a humorless laugh. “I owe him? Oh sweetheart, I don’t owe anyone anything,” she shakes her head, taking a step forward with a condescending smile. “He made his bed, or in this case, the couch, so now he can lay in it,” she shrugs nonchalantly. Y/N looks Taylor up and down before scoffing, “You two deserve each other…” she grumbles before shoulder checking the journalist and finishing her journey over to Eddie.

He watches her with an impressed look on his face, “How’d that feel?” He asks with a small grin.

“So good,” Y/N breathes out with a victorious sighs. “If I could’ve punched her without getting fired, I would have.”

Eddie chuckles, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he walks her out of the firehouse. “You’re too professional for that.”

“Yeah… I suppose,” Y/N leans into his side.

“Hey, why don’t you ride home with me?” Eddie suggests. “Since you’re staying at my place, we could just carpool in the morning.”

“I can’t just leave my car here,” Y/N says logically.

“You can get it tomorrow,” he brushes off, guiding her over to his vehicle. “C’mon… it’ll be fun. I’ll let you play Hamilton on the way,” he grins, knowing that’ll get her to say yes.

Y/N sighs reluctantly but ultimately ends up hightailing it towards Eddie’s car. It makes her flush at the thought that he pays that much attention to her and the things she likes. She loves musicals and everything related to theatre. It’s a guilty pleasure she’s had since middle school.

The moment they walked into Eddie's house, Christopher came sprinting toward them, his excitement contagious.

“Y/N!” he called, throwing his arms around her waist. “Are you staying over?”

“For a little while,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair. “Think you can put up with me?”

Christopher grinned. “Only if we make cookies.”

Y/N looked at Eddie, raising a brow. “That okay with you, Chef Diaz?”

Eddie smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I guess I can allow it. But don’t think you’re getting out of clean-up duty.”

Christopher grabbed Y/N’s hand, dragging her toward the kitchen. “C’mon! I already know where the chocolate chips are!”

Eddie followed, shaking his head with amusement as he grabbed an apron. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger,” he teased.

“Oh, please. He’s the boss around here,” Y/N shot back, tying her own apron and bumping Eddie lightly with her hip.

As they worked, the kitchen buzzed with laughter and lighthearted banter. Y/N and Eddie stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the counter while Christopher focused on cracking eggs without shell casualties. Y/N nudged Eddie when she caught him sneaking a handful of chocolate chips.

“You’re supposed to bake with those,” she said, trying to snatch the bag away.

“You’re the one who ate half the dough at the station,” Eddie countered, leaning closer with a playful smirk. “Hypocrite much?”

“Someone had to test it for poison,” she shot back, their faces just inches apart. She realized too late how close they were, her breath catching at the warmth in his eyes.

Eddie cleared his throat, stepping back as he tossed the chips into the mixing bowl. “Poison control. Got it,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Christopher’s cheerful commentary broke the moment, and Y/N refocused, though her heart raced.

Later, as the cookies baked, the three of them sprawled on the couch with mugs of milk and plates of their handiwork. They watched Moana, singing along at Christopher’s insistence, and Y/N felt herself sink into the comfort of it all—a fleeting glimpse of a life she hadn’t realized she wanted.

By the time Christopher went to bed, yawning through his goodnight hug, Y/N felt exhaustion settle over her. Eddie walked back into the living room with a blanket slung over his shoulder.

“You take my bed,” he offered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Eddie,” Y/N protested, “don’t be ridiculous. I can sleep out here.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said with a crooked grin, tossing the blanket onto the couch.

She hesitated, looking up at him. “I mean… we could just share. Your bed’s big enough, right?”

Eddie froze for a beat, his brows lifting. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Y/N shrugged, trying to sound casual, though her cheeks burned.

He exhaled and nodded. “Alright, but if you snore, I’m kicking you out.”

Later, lying side by side in the quiet of Eddie’s room, Y/N broke the silence. “I thought Buck was the one,” she admits quietly, her eyes falling as she thinks about everything that’s transpired in the past twenty-four hours. “And, y’know, maybe he was… for a while.” She turned her head, meeting Eddie’s steady gaze in the dim light. “But I’d be lying Eddie if I said I never thought about you,” her voices comes out in a whisper, almost like she’s scared of how he’ll react.

Eddie didn’t answer right away, his expression softening. Then, before she could second-guess herself, he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and unguarded, carrying loads of unspoken feelings. When his hand slid to her waist and she deepened the kiss, Eddie pulled back suddenly, resting his forehead against hers.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I can’t… I don’t want to take advantage of you. Not after everything with Buck.”

She nodded, her chest tightening with a mix of disappointment and admiration. “You’re a good man, Eddie.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m trying to be.” A small chuckle leaves his lips, “Believe me, it’s not easy. Not with you here, like this,” he gestures to the closeness between them. “I’ve thought about this more than I’d like to admit. Probably an embarrassing amount of times. And while I would love to continue what just happened, I can’t do that to you. Not when your heart just got broken.”

Y/N reaches over to cup his cheek, “Then maybe you can help me figure out how to fix it.”

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Over the next few weeks, their connection only grew stronger.

At the station, Eddie would appear beside her with coffee, their hands brushing in ways that felt intentional. Y/N’s laugh came more easily around him, and the team couldn’t help but notice. Hen caught Eddie sneaking glances more than once, and Chimney started placing bets with Bobby about when Eddie would make his move.

At Eddie’s house, Christopher treated Y/N like part of the family. She helped him with homework, played board games, and joined them for Sunday dinners. Eddie would lean against the doorway, watching them, his heart full.

Things finally felt good for Y/N. Like every single piece of her life fit perfectly. She was getting over Buck while still getting along well with the team. She’s been spending a lot of amazing time with Eddie and Chris. She absolutely loves the little boy. It’s like being apart of them and their routine was that little spark she was missing before.

One evening, after dropping Christopher off at a friend’s house, Eddie finally asked her out. “Y/N,” he began, his voice tinged with nervousness. “What would you say if I wanted to take you out for real? Like a date.”

Y/N smiled, her heart soaring. “I’d say it’s about time.”

Their first date was simple: dinner at a small Mexican restaurant Eddie loved, followed by a walk under the stars. They talked for hours, and when Eddie kissed her goodnight, it was everything she’d been waiting for.

Back at the station, their relationship became the team’s favorite topic. Hen teased them mercilessly, and even Chim couldn’t resist joining in. Buck, though initially uncomfortable, eventually came around, admitting that Eddie made Y/N happy in a way he hadn’t.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—with Eddie, with Christopher, with a future that finally felt whole.

[multch]

Accident.

No outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader [18+] CW: Unspecified age gap \ touching \ suggestive content\ afab Reader

After a wardrobe malfunction at the beach, Mr Miller decides he’s gotten too close- enough is enough- but he couldn't have anticipated the constant teasing that would follow suit..

Sand, sun and some eye-candy, Nothing could be better than this!

Finally coming back home felt fantastic after months away at college. Not only would you get to crash on the much larger bed of your old room but you would also be around for the elaborate summer holidays your parents would take.

Your family was enthusiastic.. To say the least. They were always ecstatic when it came to organizing what annual ‘event’ they would host. You hoped it would be just a simple trip with you and your siblings like last year- maybe someplace where you wouldn’t have to suffer the sweltering heat waves that summer kept offering- Like England or Newzeland!

Unfortunately, your parents had something else in mind:

The beach.

With people you hardly know.

With THE Joel Miller practically babysitting you while they organize it.

Fuck.

Joel Miller has been a friend of both of your parents for a few years now. Having first met him as a helping hand while officially moving out of your parents’ house, he’s proven himself exceptionally helpful. You almost feel bad- You know your dad always makes sure he’s paid for his work, however; you felt like you, personally, had never thanked him properly.

Heck- You’d be happy to thank him quite thoroughly if you know what I mean… 

You could never shake the thoughts you've had since you two first locked eyes. A simple gesture sparking many moons of passionate yearning. Thinking about his muscular arms, his sculpted face and the dark tone of his restless voice. Perhaps even the sounds it would make if your hands wandered achingly slow down his solid chest and towards his big, hard, throbbing…

You wish! Your little crush on him was absolutely trampled on 2 years ago by the sly comment you heard him tell your parents one night. Apparently he had started dating again- probably found someone already, afterall, it has been 2 years..

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder if a beach party could be your chance- maybe not to do.. anything… but you could at least muster up the courage to ask him if he's taken or not.

Right?

You felt butterflies in your stomach, swearing this was a make or break decision.

It took hours of pacing and rapid texting-the night before- but finally you had picked out the perfect bikini for tonight.

It was baby-blue in a gingham print. The bikini itself tied together on both hips and one in-between your breasts- joining in a dainty little bow you had spent ages worrying if it didn't look “effortless enough.” It was cute enough to be semi casual while being mature enough that your relatives wouldn't keep acting like you were an actual child.

You couldn’t help but second guess yourself… Was the effort really worth it? It's just a small get together after all, why would you need to impress anyone?… 

Would you actually impress him?

Could you ever impress him?

*

In the blink of an eye, you gasped at the sudden grasp around your tits. Those hands were large and powerful. They were panicked- almost hesitant however he didn’t seem too keen on letting go. As the wave finished toppling over you two, Joel swiftly pulled you around to face him.

The sight was mouth watering.

Flushed bright red, Joel was quick to glare into your eyes- His were brimming with concern yet crystal clear with honesty and the determination to protect your honor. His hair was wet and sat tousled over his eyes. You couldn’t help but gaze at his bitten lip as he concentrated so deeply between the valley of your breasts- almost as if he was staring directly into your heart. 

It thumped as if it were about to explode.

It might have taken you a few moments to realize but before you could react, Joel was already bent down and trying to re-tie the center string of your bikini top. Being so far out- the waves were ruthless. They crashed over the two of you like an avalanche.

It felt near impossible to keep your balance with Joel tugging you towards him- all the while, the moving sea pulling you-two away from shore.

Instinctively, your hands steadied yourself on Joel’s shoulders. A pink blush spread throughout your face as you began to realize how truly naked you were.

His tanned, bare shoulders were strong and toned from years of strenuous work in the blistering sun. Your exposed stomach fluttering with a flight of butterflies. The memory of his careful touch against a place so sensitive…

His motoring hands slowly came to a stop. As soon as he went to stand up, you quickly dropped your arms. Not knowing where to place them, your hands checked the tight bows around your hips. Luckily, it seemed like your bikini bottoms were secure; however, your top was another story.

The look you gave him was less than impressed…

“Shut up.” He growled without hesitance.

Oh.

It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

Cute, you thought.

You shot him back a sly smirk

For a man who spent so long hovering over your bust, his ability to tie the knot was sheepish. Joel had fixed a simple double knot, causing the remaining rope to dangle over your naval.

Letting out a quick sigh, you decided you had enough of the ocean for today. His eyes widened as he felt your brisk grasp on his arm- dragging him back to shore to the best of your ability.

*

Staring at your phone was useless. The mere thought of today's “incident” was enough to keep you running in circles. You sigh as you fall further into the plush cushions that lined the small sofa. Like many family functions, You've sought refuge in the same old fashioned living room. It was a cramped room tucked far within the back end of the house cluttered with old furniture. Fortunately, the abandoned room was silent compared to outside’s blaring ruckus. It was yours.

… at least, it was.

There in the door frame stood a familiar sight;

“Hey… can I speak to you,” Joel sighed, “about earlier today… I'm sorry for-”

“Groping me?” You snarked.

“God, give me a break would ‘ya,” His brows furrowed as his face slowly turned a light shade of pink, “It was either I did that or else you would’ve flashed everyone!”

For a moment, you get lost within the passionate emotion of his southern drawl. He’s so flustered; it almost seems as if he’s annoyed by you too. Maybe you were too calm? Maybe he was too embarrassed. Regardless, His outrage humored you more than you would like to admit- forcing a chuckle to erupt from within you.

“What? You think this is funny?” He spat- rolling his eyes.

"A little…”

…

The room sat still in deafening silence until…. “BAAHAHAHHAAHAAHAHA- oh my god, ok so maybe a lot,” you giggled, “I'm so sorry but really I don’t see why you care so much?”

Joel was practically fuming. Hot pink- he was humiliated “Get a grip!, damn you little-”

“Did you just tell me to get a grip? I would but it seems you’ve grabbed enough things today for the two of us-”

Before you had the chance to laugh, your eyes widened at the sight of the one and only Joel Miller rushing towards you with a salty smile and a couch pillow hurling towards you.

HWACK! You squealed at the sudden collision. Despite being a pillow, when punted hard enough at a victim, it proves itself as an effective weapon.

“GOT ‘YA!” He gasped- now standing over you. As you opened your eyes, they locked with his. 

Your mouth sat smug, readying yourself for a moment to strike back. His eyes! it was for a brief moment yet you were lucky enough to catch them darting down to your lips. 

Ha!

Your tactic: the element of surprise. When his gaze returned, it took all your power to summon the courage to muster out the question plastered across your heart for so long.

It was now or never, you assured.

“Jo- Mr Miller,” you stated, “this is so awkward but… I was wondering if you were in a relationship?”

“What's it to you?” He chuckled, shifting to rest his palm on the armrest beside you.

“I… um..” you tightened your grip on the pillow.

The look in his eyes was enough to tell you.

Fuck.

“Ah… shit.., look ‘sweetpea, y'know your daddy and I are buddies…” he tried telling you but he knew he couldn't steer you away.

“And? So what, I'm an adult,” You barked, “C'mon Joel- I really like you!”

The truth came bubbling out, you didn't expect to actually tell him. Not tonight. Not ever. Happily watching from the sidelines was a hobby- you imagined him in your future. Confessing to him; however, was never foreseen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With your vision glossing over, this wave of dread was suffocating. Before you could excuse yourself, you felt his familiar grasp on your hand. Unlike before, his touch wasn't hesitant. Instead, his grip was determined, driven yet caring.

He grazed his thumb side to side across the back of your hand. His fingers kissing yours with each rough callous and soft intention.

The surprised action made your eyes widen, you raised your head up high only to see the sight of Joel Miller looking back at you like how one looks at a puppy- as if his heart had melted.

A bright pink flush and bitten lips, it was clear he had something to say stuck on the tip of his tongue. 

“Y/N.” 

“Joel.”

He bent down and held the side of your face. Dark and hazy, his eyes glazed over with ambition. “You're so pretty, y'know that?” He kissed onto your lips.

With that said, you stretched your arms up and placed them on his broad shoulders, merging your mouth with his. He nipped at your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave in, allowing him access to explore each and every crevice with his tongue. 

Was it mere minutes or years you had been kissing for? You couldn't tell. Regardless, at some point you had to pry yourself apart in order to grant yourself a moment to breathe. Your lips felt so tender and bruised- God, how you missed his touch.

He fell to sit beside you, the old couch creaking as he sat down. “Do you normally make out with men twice your age?” He teased.

“Oh, Shut up!” you said before chucking the pillow at his chest with a loud thud.

[rwshfordgirl]

time to meet your parents.

paring: jude bellingham × reader summary: jude wants to meet reader parents. a/n: i apologize for any spelling mistakes that may appear :) i hope you like it!

when i was younger and i thought about the day would have to introduce my boyfriend to my dad, i would almost cry. just imagining it would make me panic.

my father is the kind of father who tells his daughter something like "you'll only date when you're 30." and i took that seriously. i avoided having male friends as much as possible. i didn't want my father to see me around any boys. i remember my mother saying that this was the biggest nonsense ever, but i don't know, i was afraid my father would fight with me.

as I got older, i started to agree with my mother. i had my first kiss at 16 and currently at 20, i have kissed a total of 4 mouths and lucky for my father it is difficult to find a man who is good enough to be introduced to the parents these days.

but i found one three months ago, he hit my car when i was coming back from college. the most handsome real madrid player in my opinion, jude bellingham.

but he caught me off guard this week, he said to me loud and clear "i want to meet your parents". i, who was lying with my head on his chest, stood up abruptly and looked at him. 

everything my father told me about boyfriends went through my head, i'm 10 years away from turning 30. but if i want my relationship with bellingham to reach a more serious level, i have to introduce him to my parents, right? and while i've met almost all of his family, he's never even seen a single one of my relatives.

i told him he could come to my house on saturday to have dinner with me and my parents, he accepted. now all i had to do was talk to my parents.

i went home rehearsing everything i was going to say and when i got home and they were having dinner, a great time to tell them the news. 

"my love, i was about to call you to find out where you were." my mother said as soon as she saw me. "i forgot to tell you that i would be staying late at college." at least i wouldn't have to lie to them anymore about staying late at college, aka bellingham house.

i sat at the table with them, not hungry at all. my dad noticed that i was acting weird. "are you okay?" he asked. "yeah, yeah.. i just wanted to tell you something!" they stopped everything they were doing to look at me. "go ahead and talk." my mom said.

here we go. "remember when someone hit my car?" they nodded. "so, the boy who hit the car and i ended up getting pretty close. and i really wanted you guys to meet him, since things could get serious between us."

ny mother's eyes were wide and she had a smile on her face. "i can't believe it! i'm so happy, my love! how is this meeting going to be? tell him to come to dinner with us on saturday." my mother was excited. "i told him that, but i wanted you to confirm it." i said. "It's more than confirmed."

"i can't believe my baby has grown up, i want to meet him now!" my father left me speechless and even gave me a kiss on the top of my head to leave me even more shocked.  my mother winked at me.

easier than i expected it to be, now just wait until saturday.

                                 ...

bellingham is already here. he arrived earlier than i expected, the city traffic is apparently conspiring in our favor. but i was in the shower when he arrived, and my mother was the one who greeted him.

"dear, i seem to have felt that jude was english." my mother said as soon as she saw me coming down the stairs. "has jude introduced himself to you yet, mom?" i hugged the player from behind and he held my hands "of course, you took too long! your mother and i are friends now."

"if my wife approves of you, i approve of you too." my father arrived in the living room after going to the market. "hey man, how are you?" he said as he greeted bellingham. "good and you?" jude replied, "i'm glad to meet you. i just want to confirm if your name is really college?" i almost died of embarrassment. my father already suspected my lie. "i can't believe it, she said she was going to college? but unfortunately, my name is jude, not college." bellingham is a sly man. he knew very well what i was telling my parents when I was going to meet him. "oh, you're a real madrid player, aren't you? i'm only  used to the third division of the Spanish league." my father said "i'm going to have to bring you to the side of the biggest team in spain, so i'm sure that when you go to the bernabeu you'll change teams." jude joked "never." my father replied.

dinner went well, my parents loved jude and jude loved my parents. my mother wants him to come here all the time, she even asked if he wanted to sleep here tonight, bellingham didn't accept just because he had to go to training early tomorrow. he was all happy when my dad said he was the son-in-law of his dreams and my mom said he looked like the son she always wanted to have.

i'm going to skip the dating part and just marry him right away, i love him and so do my parents, i don't know what I'm waiting for. 

[ecklekecle]

HEADCANON i think Regulus was a happy baby compared to Sirius. Like, imagine this, i think Sirius was the type of baby who would cry non-stop, no matter what his parents did, he would cry and whine and do what babies do yk, and was just a difficult baby to take care of in general, but Regulus on the other hand was a happy, giggling, smiling baby. And like, this dynamic would continue into when they were kids. Regulus would find Sirius hilarious, and would follow him around everywhere. Regulus would probably have one of those really contagious laughs that are like, you know when kids laugh? and they're giggling and can't breathe, it's like that. And I feel like Sirius would always be causing trouble, but not because he hates his parents, not yet anyway, but because as an older sibling, he likes to show Regulus that he's cool and he wants Regulus to look up to him.

Now when Sirius goes to Hogwarts, Regulus laughs less cause their no more happiness in the house, but it's back when Sirius comes back of course, and tell's Regulus all the things that happened. But once Regulus goes to hogwarts (and gets sorted into slytherin) they start talking less, even at home. Sirius starts rebelling more, and Regulus starts to keep more to himself, mental health definitely getting worse. Even around his friends he never lets himself go and laugh like he used to, they only get a chuckle or two, and thats on his good days. And during his school years, before getting the dark mark, he would just continue to shield himself from others, creating a cold personaity for himself to keep others away, though his friends knew the "real" him. But as his parents got worse, and Sirius left home for the Potter's, he got worse mentally and physically as he kept himself safe from his parents.

When he gets the dark mark, and he's finally alone and spiralling, he just lets out a hysterical laugh and there's no more of the childhood innocence and no more joy in the laugh, it's just filled with anguish as he as he tries to hold back tears annd sobs by laughing. yeah And then he yk dies

But to add to this imagine all their relatives knowing Regulus and his laugh and like, their cousins loved making little Regulus laugh and while Sirius was the moody one yk But in hogwarts everyone knows Sirius Black. He's charismatic and whatever but everyone questions how he's even related to Regulus. If they didn't look so alike, no one would even guess they were related.

I guess there could be a happier side to this (if ur a jegulus fan), as he and james start to talk adn get moore serious yk. even tho Regulus won't admit it, James makes him laugh. With James, Regulus can relax and laugh like a child again, and it sounds just as it did when he was younger, filled with joy and the childhood innocence he thought he had lost. And then he reconnects with his brother and they all live happily ever after the end :0

someone's probably already talked about this but i thought it would be interesting especially since younger regulus contrasts older regulus, and vice vera with sirius but also sirius and regulus contrasts each other. parallels or whatever i might just be using words to seem smart lol the black brother just make me sick i love them sm this idea just came to my head as i once again procrastinated studying but luckily exams are over now so yippee?

[wileys-russo]

would you be willing to write reader getting her wisdom teeth out and being all loopy and out of it while leah takes care of her (their relationship is relatively fresh) and she asks leah if she wants to know everything reader loves about her and leah agrees, thinking it is mostly going to be like sexual stuff or about her body but reader lists almost exclusively her personality and stuff like leah being super eloquent and hardworking etc and leah is just very positively surprised and swooning at it

it’s just fluff basically but a bit cheesy lol

happy gas II l.williamson

leah spun her keys around on her fingers as she returned to the dental clinic, jogging up the stairs and shoving her keys in her pocket as she stepped inside, a slight shiver going down her spine as the air conditioning pumped down onto her.

"hi, i'm here to collect my girlfriend? y/l/n, i was told to come back around two." leah smiled politely, resting her arms on the counter as the receptionist nodded, stepping out to check with the doctor.

"she's just waking up a little from the anesthesia love, take a seat and you'll be able to see her shortly the nurse will come and fetch you..." she trailed off expectantly with a raised eyebrow. "leah." the blonde smiled, thanking her and moving to sit down in the waiting room.

shifting around in the hard plastic chair the footballer busied herself watching a the big quiz re-run playing on the small telly above her. "leah? leah? leah!" she'd become so engrossed in the show, even mumbling along answers that she almost missed her name called out.

shooting out of her seat she sent the nurse an apologetic smile and hurried after her, making small talk as she was lead toward the recovery room. "is that-" leah started with a frown hearing a familiar laughter echo through the halls.

"sure is. your girlfriend is up there with one of the worst behaved but most amusing patients we've had!" the nurse chuckled and opened the door, leah stepping in after her.

"lee lee! you didn't leave me." you beamed happily, spitting the gauze out as the nurse hurried over to replace it with some fresh ones. "no i didn't, i told you i'd be back right after your surgery sweets i just went to get something to eat to pass the time." leah smiled with a shake of her head.

"she's certainly a character." the doctor chuckled with a shake of his head. "oh yes she is." leah agreed, the two of you were a relatively fresh pairing, having gone on several dates and a prolonged talking phase you'd only been dating for around three months now.

"is that normal practice? my little brother had his wisdoms out a couple years ago and never needed that." leah frowned as she noticed your hands had been restrained to the arms of the chair with velcro.

"no its not, however your girlfriend seems determined to pull out her gauze and if she doesn't keep it in her mouth long enough to stem the bleeding she's in for a world of pain." the doctor explained as leah nodded along.

"if she's not pulling it out she's screaming, singing or yelling causing it to fall out." the nurse sighed as you rolled your eyes and leah moved to be by your side.

"love can you please be quiet for a little bit? if you don't keep the gauze in your mouth to stop the bleeding they'll need to remove all your teeth." leah warned as your eyes widened in fear at the lie and you were instantly silenced.

"well thats one way to do it." the doctor laughed as leah smiled smugly and ran a hand affectionately through your hair. "so! aftercare." with that the older man ran leah through everything she would need to do as your primary carer for the next forty eight hours.

your hands now freed and helped into a wheel chair as the anesthetic meant your limbs weren't quite strong enough to hold you up leah wheeled you out of the clinic, shaking her head as you blew kisses to all of the nurses.

"stop that! save some for me." leah teased flicking your ear, some sort of gibberish mumbled from your mouth which was still stuffed with gauze. another nurse helping leah get you from the wheel chair into the car you happily waved her off as she returned with the chair toward the clinic, leah slipping into the drivers seat.

"why am i in the back!" you huffed, words a little muffled from the gauze but with the drowsiness wearing off they were less slurred.

"because you got voted one of the worst behaved patients at that clinic and i wouldn't put it past you to grab or push something you dont need to up here." leah smiled in amusement as you scoffed.

"thats so mean! they really voted me that." you seemed genuinely heartbroken as leah pulled out of the carpark. "love are you crying?" leah bit down on her lip to stop her smile as she glanced to you in her rear view mirror.

"yeah! thats really mean of them, i was so nice." you sobbed and leah couldn't help but cover her laughter with a cough knowing this was only the side affects of the anesthesia. "baby girl you both threatened and tried to bite the poor doctor multiple times, thats not very nice." leah reminded, corners of her mouth curling upward.

"cause he wouldn't keep his dirty glove covered hand out of my mouth!" you huffed with a scowl, head thumping against the back seat. "thats because he needed to remove your wisdom teeth you muppet, which are in your mouth." leah chuckled with a playful roll of her eyes.

"lee lee i am starving, get me some food please." you demanded, kicking the back of her chair like an annoyed child. "you're not allowed to eat for another four hours my love, sorry." leah apologized, your protests falling on deaf ears as she continued to drive home.

placating your whinging and trying her best to keep you quiet so the guaze stayed in your mouth leah felt a sense of relief wash over her when finally she pulled into the driveway of her apartment where you’d be staying the next few days so she could keep an eye on you.

she scrambled out of the car and hurried to your door, opening it before you could and helping you out, your legs a little stronger now some more time had passed.

successfully getting you up and out of the car and into the house she helped you onto the sofa, dashing off to change clothes so she was more comfortable, changing in lightning speed given she didn't want to leave you unattended for a moment longer than needed.

finally after a half hour of squirming and wiggling and fighting leah at every turn to take the gazue from your mouth or get up and move about you'd settled, an ice pack resting on your jaw to help the swelling as your back pressed into leahs front.

"leah." you spoke up, tilting your head back and shuffling a little so it rested on your shoulder and she hummed. "do you wanna know everything i love about you?" you smiled tiredly as your girlfriend chuckled, already quite sure what would be next out of your mouth as she gestured for you to continue.

but to her surprise it wasn't anything of the sort that she'd expected, no cheesy pick up lines or suggestive comments, no cheeky remarks about her body or your time spent together in the bedroom. in fact, it was the complete opposite of what leah expected.

"mm well i love that you're so passionate. about football, the arsenal foundation, your friends, your studies, your hobbies, a very very passionate woman." you started, a slight slur returning to your voice as the pain medication you'd just taken started to kick in.

"i love that you make me feel loved, and safe, and accepted, and happy, and comfortable. you love me for me and you have never asked or expected me to change." you continued, leah stunned into silence as you affectionately patted her leg.

"i love that you're so well spoken, and you always know what to say. but sometimes you know what to say and you don't say it because you want to annoy me and it works! because you know too well how to annoy me." you rolled your eyes as leahs smile grew.

"i love how much you love your family, its so special to watch the bond you all have. i love how much you love football, as a player and a fan and a spectator and sometimes an unintentional gaffer!" you grinned lopsidedly, your eyes closed now as leah pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, hugging you tightly.

"i love how good you are with my neices, and how much my mum loves you, even if the two of you gang up on me now!" you cracked open one eye tiredly to glare up at her causing her to chuckle and run a hand through your hair.

you paused as you let out a long yawn, again shuffling back so you were laid down a little more and comfortable once again between leahs outstretched legs. the girl assumed you were finished, her heart well and truly melting at your sweet confessions.

"i love that you are unapologetically yourself and you stand up and speak out on what you believe in. i love that even though you can't cook to save your life you order me pizza and let me pick the movies we watch." leah was grateful the two of you were alone now as she was sure if any of her friends and family saw just how in love she looked with you right now she would have the mick taken out of her forever.

"i love how strong you are and how you bounce back from everything, and you always try to find a silver lining or a different way to look at things. i love that you're so honest and open about how you're feeling and what you need when you need it. i love that-" your last few words were barely understandable as you inhaled and exhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut again as leah waited a moment before confirming you had indeed finally fallen asleep.

she could have cried at everything you said, and to be honest she was shocked she hadn't given she was basically a puddle of a human being, a pile of sap and heart strings and lovesick puppy eyes for you.

"oh my pretty girl, my best girl, if only you knew just how much i love and adore you. but i promise to spend each and every day showing you so, forever and always."

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison x Teen!Lennon!Reader)

A/N: Hello, Happy Easter! I'm posting another oneshot, because why not? I feel like it could have been a little better than what I wrote, but I was in a bit of a rush to get it out. Who doesn't love some George?

Summary: It's 1961. You're John's sister and he refuses to let you talk to anyone in his band (and vice versa) despite your house being their practice location. George scores some alone time with you one day, and sings you a little song he composed for you.

WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE BEHAVIOUR; the reader is pretty confident in this oneshot. Mentions of sex, but nothing further than a heated make out session/ neck kissing really occurs in this. Swearing, probably, but I could be wrong. George starts out shy but he is not by the end. There are probably some typos as well oops.

This one is T rated, but just read at your own risk because as mentioned, sex is discussed

It was 1961, a relatively warm Friday evening after dinner, where an eighteen year old George Harrison was accompanied by a nineteen year-old Paul McCartney, on the way to the Lennon household.

Band practice was that night, the newly renamed "Beatles" preparing for their next gig at the Cavern Club just that following evening. George had his guitar case in hand, and Paul, his base, as they walked and talked.

John's house could be spotted from where the two were now, and George, who was talking in that moment, lost train of thought when he spotted someone just outside the front door.

That someone was you. John's little sister. Aged eighteen; like George.

George could feel his heart fluttering as he watched you move around the front garden, watering can in hand as you tended to the little flowers in the window planters.

"Don't stare," Paul lightly chided in a sing-song tone, wagging his finger at George when he came back down to earth, cheeks flush at the idea of having been caught looking.

"But look at her," George groaned, hand gesturing towards you haphazardly before dropping it down helplessly at his side. "Just look at how perfect--"

"And off limits," Paul added quickly.

"... she is," George sighed as he finished his sentence, a rather upsetting frown on his face. The boys had since halted walking, making sure to be far enough away that you weren't in earshot of their conversation.

"Look, Harry," Paul rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder in comfort. "I know how you feel. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think she was a looker, y'know?"

Paul and George glanced over at you for a moment, before he continued.

"... but if I had a sister, and three lads who couldn't keep their eyes off her, I couldn't say I wouldn't be doing what Lenny's doing right now."

George knew that Paul was right. As much as he hated it, John loved you very much, and was cautious of any guy trying to be near you, especially now that you were a young adult, and not some child.

Every time the band gathered at John's house, everyone seemed to be under a microscope-- including you. The boys weren't allowed to talk to you, and you couldn't even look at anyone without your brother hollering at you to get upstairs, or to refocus back to your homework, or whatever task you had at hand.

But in moments like this, where the protective older brother wasn't around, George took every chance he could to greet you with a smile on his face.

And he wasn't going to stop now.

"I get it, mate. I just... there's something about her." That's the simplest George could have explained it to Paul. He wasn't about to disclose that he dreamt of you almost every night, or that he relished in the moments of excitement and anxiety of being able to see you, if only for five seconds out of his entire week.

And he certainly would not have told him about the songs he was composing; his muse being you, of course.

It was all just one giant secret, and as much as George wanted to tell you, all he thought of were downsides in result of revealing such a thing to you.

George thought that you, for starters, were leaps and bounds out of his league, he was scared of being laughed at, and he would have been absolutely horrified if John were to ever find out.

The negatives drastically outweighed the positives, so he was better to keep his mouth shut.

George and Paul continued their trek to the building, and when they finally made it to the walkway leading to the door, you turned your head, smiling gently and waving to them once you realized who it was.

"Good afternoon, lads," you greeted politely, and George nearly melted at the sound of your voice.

"Hello, Miss Lennon," the boys responded in unison. George cringed a little at that, pushing through the door with Paul following close behind. As much as he wanted to stick around, he knew it would have been too risky.

And thank God he made made that choice. John was waiting for them in the main foyer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem too happy, but he wasn't quite pissed off, either; almost as if he were in limbo of the two.

"'Bout time yous showed up. Me n' Pete've been waiting forever. C'mon, now." John waved his hand as he headed for the basement stairs, and the boys wordlessly continued on so they could begin their practice. George only looked over his shoulder once before descending the steps, hoping to have caught just one more glimpse of you, but to no avail.

"We have a show tomorrow, and you boys decided to be a quarter of an hour late!" John complained on as he threw his guitar strap over his shoulder. Pete was in the corner of the room on his drum set just shaking his head as he grabbed his drumsticks and tapped a little on his instrument. he must have been there for a while already.

Paul and George hurriedly grabbed out their instruments, apologizing so the older boy's complaints would cease. "As long as you're ready to play now, I don't care."

John always got sort of tense when the other three boys were over, hyper-focussed on keeping you away from them and vice versa. He was more or less worried about Paul trying to flirt with you, so a lot of John's poor behaviour stemmed from that.

Little did he know that it was actually George who'd fallen head over heels for you.

But that wasn't something to worry about in that moment. What was important was that practice began, and that they had to see improvement before their show just that following night.

Practice was going well. They had been at it for nearly an hour at that point, and the more they worked, the more pleased each boy was with the sound. They took a brief pause for some water, and John was rifling through his pile of lyrics sitting on a table in the corner of the room, trying to decide which one to practice next.

As George finished the last drop of water in his glass, John piped up, "I don't have all my songs here. Must've left them in my room."

"Which ones?" George asked, empty glass still in-hand. "I'm running up for a refill, might as well grab that for you as well."

"I think I left them on my desk at the side. You sure you don't want me running up?"

George swatted his hand as he started for the stairs. "Don't worry 'bout it. Be back in a jiff."

George hopped up the stairs, leaving his glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink before moving down the main foyer. He paused at the front door to peek out the window to see if you were still outside, but he didn't see you from where he was standing. He sighed gently before turning and making his way up to the second floor.

George made his way down to John's room at the end of the hallway. It was the only room with the door open, and before he even made it into the room, he could see the pile of lyrics on the desk, right where John said they'd be.

He picked up the pile, shuffling through them and counting the pages as he did so. He took one more brief glance around the room to make sure he wasn't missing anything else. When he decided this was all he needed, he turned on his heel and headed out to the hallway.

George was just about to make it to the stairs when he felt someone take hold of his arm, and swiftly tug him into one of the other rooms. The moment was a blur for him, and it took him a second to piece together what happened. He was standing in the middle of the room-- your room.

And you were only three feet away from him, back against the door, and cheeks glowing pink.

"Hello," you smiled gently, and George had no clue what to say, pages clutched tightly against his chest as his brain swirled with millions of thoughts.

"Hi," he squeaked, face burning in humiliation at his flustered state, but he was in your room, for Christ's sake. Your room! He had no clue what to say to you, mouth hanging open as he tried to search his brain for some other words.

"Look, I know we're not supposed to be doing this," you expressed, and George could feel his heart doing violent flips in his chest, especially when you pushed yourself off the door to take a step or two closer to him. This was the longest conversation he had with you, to date.

"Johnny would kill me if he knew I had a boy in my room, you know," you took a moment to pause, and all George could do was nod his head in agreement, intoxicated by the way you walked, and the way you talked. There was a hint of something in your voice... but the boy couldn't quite place what it was. Yearning? That couldn't be right... could it?

"But where's the fun in that, huh?" You asked, hands clasped behind your back, eyes staring right back into his, and George couldn't help but break his gaze first, utterly intimidated by your confidence. His eyes fixated to the dress you were wearing, and he could see a playful smile dancing on your lips in his peripheral.

"... You like what you see, Georgie?" You asked lowly after a moment, and his stare shot back up to your face again, certain his legs were numb. The nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, so perfectly. The things it was doing to him...

"I..." he could barely speak, breaths ragged. Not one coherent thought was at the forefront of his brain, other than one simple word.

"Pretty." Your smile was a little more genuine now after he said that, and you reached a hand up to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear.

"You think I'm pretty?"

George just nodded again. It was only now that he realized how much shorter you were compared to him, as you were only a foot away from him; the closest you'd ever been. He was looking down at you, but you were, in no way, intimidated by him. It was actually quite the opposite.

"You know, Georgie, you're pretty handsome, yourself," you professed, smiling wider as George's face burned even hotter.

He couldn't even thank you, scared of what would have happened if he tried to utter any kind of response to you. You reached out to rest a hand on his arm, and your smile faltered just a little.

"You're really tense... am I making you uncomfortable?" George's eyes widened, swallowing nervously as he shook his head 'no' as quickly as he could. He didn't want-- whatever this was-- to stop. The sincere upturn of your lips returned, and George couldn't help but flit his gaze down to your lips.

If only he had as much confidence as you, he might have just dipped down to have a taste...

"Look, I don't wanna keep you any longer. I know Johnny's gonna be looking for you soon." You thought for a moment before mentioning, "usually after you boys leave, he's down there for another hour or so practicing his own songs. Come back and see me after, yeah? Get to know each other a little more?" You raised an eyebrow expectantly, and George nodded his head again.

"Okay," he managed to whisper, resulting in you rising to your toes, and wordlessly pecking him on the cheek.

He felt like he was dreaming.

"Run along now, before they get suspicious!"

George's feet, though seemingly glued to the floor moments before, took off quickly, opening the door, and disappearing out into the hallway, shutting it closed behind him. As soon as he was on his own, he sighed heavily, the rush of oxygen in his lungs making him feel light-headed.

For someone who seemed so innocent in the open, around others, George could never have guessed how much of a minx you were behind closed doors. One part of him was still in denial that his interaction with you was even real, let alone meant to be flirtatious in any way...

But man, he would have been stupid not to take you up on your offer. It was just another hour he had to spend practicing, and he'd be right back in there, hopefully earning another kiss on the cheek from you.

George looked at the lyric papers in his hands one last time before sighing one more time, and going back downstairs. He passed his forgotten water glass in the kitchen, mind on an entirely different planet.

He returned to the basement, handing John the papers. He thanked the younger boy, pausing for a second to watch him move to grab his guitar.

"Where's your glass, Harry?"

George tensed when John asked that, hand on the neck of the guitar.

"... Left it upstairs,"  he responded.

"Thought you were grabbing a refill?" John's inquiries had George grasping for what to say next, but he was quick enough.

"Refilled the glass up there, drank it, and figured I'd be fine for the rest of practice."

His confession, though a lie, was believable enough for John, who just nodded his head slowly and drew his attention to the papers after a second, discussing which song they were going to practice next.

George just flew under the radar then, and he mentally cursed himself for being so careless. He look a quick glance at Paul, who was giving him a look; almost as if he knew something happened up there.

But he would never know the truth.

The shared glance fell apart when John advised everyone to get into position for playing, and they did just that.

The hour seemed to drag, George felt; but as time moved on, the more anxious he began to feel again. By the time everyone was packing up to leave, he was almost vibrating with anxiety.

He wanted to be close to you again so badly, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself as he had in the last interaction.

Pete, Paul, and George wished John a good night, and climbed the stairs to the main floor in that order, leaving John alone to continue practicing. Pete left Paul and George in the main hallway with a little wave, and a short "see yous tomorrow," before taking off out the front door.

Paul grabbed the door handle next and turned back to George, who stood in one spot a little too far away from the door.

"... Not walking home with me?" He asked in confusion, and when George didn't have a disposable answer, the pieces seemed to be finally clicking for the other boy.

He opened his mouth as if to lecture George on how bad of an idea sticking around would be, but instead, he tightened his jaw, shook his head, and waved to him.

"G'night Harry," he tossed a little wave out before taking off into the dusk.

He was alone now.

That could only mean one thing.

George eyed the stairs, knowing that if he turned on his heel and walked out right then, it'd be one of the biggest mistakes in his life. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was nervous; intimidated by you, and your assertive, rather sexy behaviour from earlier.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the railing, and hiking up the stairs slowly.

He stood outside your bedroom door much longer than he would have liked to admit, taking deep breaths and reciting words over and over again in his brain, as if this whole interaction were scripted-- as if he knew what was going to happen.

When he finally composed himself properly, he rapped on the door gently, hoping you would hear his presence on the other side. When you finally came around to open the door, his heart skipped a beat.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you voiced softly, leaning against the doorframe, handle still in hand. You sounded a little relieved, almost, seeing the boy on the other side of the threshold.

You were in your pyjamas, a set that showed enough skin on your arms and legs that it made George, red-faced, shake his head to reactivate his brain, which pretty much short circuited.

"You goin' to bed?" His words left his mouth faster than he realized he was even saying them. Sure, it was getting late out, but would you have really changed if you were expecting company?

"Well, that depends. Will you be joining me?" You were so quick on your feet in response that it honestly impressed George, the heat returning to his face as he tried to think of what to say next, not daring to drop his line of sight below your chin.

"I'm only teasing you," you laughed after a moment of watching George squirm, pushing off the doorframe and allowing him to enter your bedroom again. As he passed you, he caught sight of you gazing up his body, shrugging and adding a little "... maybe," to the end of your sentence.

You were such a tease, and George set his guitar case off to the side, facing away from you, so he could hide just how giddy and flushed he was just being in there with you again. He rose to his feet and turned to face you. You were only a few feet away from him again, eyes on him intensely, smile still present.

"... I hope you know just how glad I am that you came back," you expressed again, honestly. George raised an eyebrow at that, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted to tear his gaze from yours so badly, but your face was just so gorgeous to look at, and he didn't want to be caught looking at your outfit again; he knew some more teasing would surely ensue if he was caught staring.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" George replied bashfully, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Wouldn't miss a chance to be here, with you, for the world."

Your stare softened at his words, beaming as your own cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. George wasn't sure you were really expecting something like that coming from him. "... You really mean that?"

George desperately wanted to elaborate a little further, but he just settled on giving you a little nod, smiling back shyly at your question.

"Maybe I thought I might've scared you off for being so forward earlier," you admitted timidly as you turned on your heel. You took a seat at the edge of your bed, and George surveyed your movements, eyebrows lifting a little when you reached out to pat the empty space next to you on the mattress after a moment.

"Care to take a seat?"

George accepted the invitation, and you felt the bed dip when he sat down. His eyes cast down to the floor, face still red at the idea of being in your presence; having your attention.

"You know, Georgie... my brother can be pretty stupid sometimes. But making this house the place for band practice, I think, was one of the best decisions he's ever made."

His eyes met yours again at your words, and you shrugged one of your shoulders.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't been dying to talk to you. Or get to know you. You seem so kind, and you're so attractive, and John wants to keep you away from me, and I'm so sick of him deciding what's best for me."

Your eyes cast down between the both of you for a moment, and George could feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest. His fingertips felt numb, mouth hanging slack as you continued your profession.

"I knew the only way to get close and alone with you was to bring you in here. And I saw the way you were looking at me earlier, and I had to get you to come back."

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Was he really that obvious when he was in here last?

"It's thrilling... having a boy like you in my room, while John's clueless out there as to what we're doing. What we could be doing..."

George's mind was going places he was never expecting it to that evening, especially with the help of you voicing it aloud. He was in utter disbelief of what you were telling him, convinced he'd fallen asleep throughout the day, and he was caught in some blissful dream he wished would never end.

"I feel a little selfish, springing so much information on you at once... but every time I see you, I desperately want to be with you; and today, I had to jump to take that chance. I couldn't wait another week, another day."

You smiled sheepishly, not really expecting George to say anything after that. You were honestly just trying to get your thoughts off your chest, and now that you had, you felt a lot better. You were also pleased with the little look of shock on George's face. You liked doing that to him.

You decided to break his trance by nodding over to his guitar case sitting on the floor. "So... You have plans to serenade me, Georgie?"

Your question definitely brought him back down to earth, and he took a quick glance at the case before looking back to you. Your confession was still ringing clear in his head like a bell. He felt he didn't have the words to admit his feelings as clearly as you had right on the spot...

He did, however, have the words pre-planned as lyrics, in a multitude of original songs he wrote for you.

"... I do, actually," he agreed, standing up to open his case and retrieve his instrument. George was feeling a little more excited now, knowing any girl these days would swoon at the idea of having music written for them, and he just hoped you would too.

He returned to the bed, deciding against tossing the strap over his shoulder. He faced you so you could hear and see every little thing he did. He was at least glad he didn't get performance anxiety on the guitar.

He gently strummed out a few different notes, deciding in his head which song he wanted to perform for you. One in particular stuck out in his mind, and he couldn't deny that it was the perfect choice.

He was a little worried about how you'd feel about his playing, and the lyrics, but he wanted to show you that he could be confident about this, especially since he was nearly certain now that his feelings were reciprocated. But he had to play it cool.

"It is a work in progress. I've only half of it written, but I really think you'll like it," George explained to you before allowing the notes to fill the air around you both.

"Listen,

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise not to tell?

Closer,

Let me whisper in your ear,

Say the words you long to hear,

I'm in love with you."

It was only then that you realized this was the first time you'd ever seen, or heard George play. This beautiful genius was being hidden away from you this whole time, and it was a blessing to see his work up close.

His left hand slid along the fretboard so easily, thumb and fingers on his right tickling the strings as if it were second nature to him. You couldn't decide which hand you wanted to look at. His digits were skillful on the instrument, and George made sure to almost exaggerate his movements to impress you.

He pretty much had you in a trance, now, daydreaming about what else those hands could do...

"I've known a secret for a week, or two,

Nobody knows, just we two,"

George had been worried the whole song about messing up the notes, eyes so focused on where his fingers were going... But he glanced up at you, realizing how hypnotized you were, like putty in his hands, and he decided there was nothing to worry about.

He decided to sing right to you now, soft eyes on your face, and when your field of view locked with his, he knew he wouldn't dare break the stare.

"Listen,"

This wasn't a song anymore.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

This was his confession.

"Do you promise not to tell?"

His way of showing you what you really meant to him.

"Closer,"

He wasn't clouded by any insecurities or doubt anymore.

"Let me whisper in your ear,"

Your gaze flitted down just enough to watch George's canines poke out from behind his lips as he sung, and your eyelashes lowered at the sight of his beautiful mouth.

"Say the words you long to hear,"

Your mind was absorbing the lyrics like a sponge in water, every single word eliciting a feeling so strong in your heart, you could hear it pumping in your ears.

"I'm in love with you."

George hummed away as he played the final notes, a little smile still on his lips when he let the last chord ring out into a room of silence.

When that stillness remained for a moment, George couldn't help but ask with a little bit of hesitation, "Well... what do you thi--"

He couldn't even get the rest of his question out before you darted at him, lips smashing into his as if he were about to disappear forever.

He let out a little surprised hum before he pulled the guitar out from between the both of you, and you took it as an opportunity to push your body closer to him, arms wrapping around his collarbone.

He blindly set the guitar down to lean it against your bed, and when he let go of the neck of the instrument, his hands went for your hips, squeezing your sides gently before pulling you right up into his lap. your actions bloomed a type of self-assurance within him he had no idea he could even possess.

It was your turn to squeal excitedly, but George's lips on yours muffled the sound. One of his hands snaked around to the small of your back before it slipped under your shirt, his palm dragging up your spine. His fingertips took note of each vertebrae it dipped up and down into, like the frets on his guitar.

This, George decided, was better than a dream. This whole situation unfolding around him made him feel as though he died and went to heaven.

He pulled his lips away from yours, free hand reaching up to grip your chin and directing you to tilt your head up. His lips suckled on the side of your neck, and the sound coming from your mouth was absolutely euphoric to him. But he removed his palm from your chin to cover your mouth, his other hand still feeling and memorizing every curve and dip in your back.

"You must be quiet, Love. Wouldn't want your brother knowing about all this fun we're having up here, eh?" Your eyes rolled back at his words, groaning into his hand as you felt George drag his teeth gently along the column of your throat.

Knowing you were enjoying this as much as he was only brought more confidence to his actions, and he let his tongue poke out to leave a large, wet kiss on your collarbone.

You were squirming in his lap, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging so he knew he was doing everything right.

He groaned at the friction you were creating at the hips, and he pulled away from your neck to kiss your lips again after removing his hand and placing it on the back of your neck.

You swallowed his moans as you continued to grind in his lap, but both of your movements paused when you heard the guitar come crashing down to the carpeted floor. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was loud enough.

You both kept an ear out, knowing that might have caught the attention of someone downstairs, and when you began to hear footsteps shuffling around, you began to panic a little, eyes wide and darting back to George, whose face was flushed from the assault of your kisses, and hair was a tangled mess from your fingers.

"You gotta hide," you rushed out quietly, and though you tried to climb out of George's lap, his hands kept you planted right where you were.

"What are you doing?!"

"... What if I didn't?" He challenged you a little, a daring smirk at his lips.

"Had you not been so naughty, with all that moving and teasing, the guitar wouldn't have fallen, eh? And we wouldn't be in this situation at all." The points of his canines were showing again, and you groaned at his words.

"George, I'd love to continue this, but John will kill you if we're caught, and we can't do this if you're dead!"

"Well then we just won't get caught," he responded simply. He was blinded by desire, his confidence seeping out of him like sap from a tree as he placed his mouth back on your neck.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and you both heard a knock, George not showing any sign of stopping his actions.

"Don't come in, I'm-- I'm not wearing any clothes!!" It was the first thing you could blurt out to whoever was on the other side.

"Oh, baby, that'd be a sight to see," George mumbled against your skin, pulling your top down just enough so he could suck a dark spot just above your left breast so you could easily hide it away, and you sighed heavily at the contact, face burning red.

"Just heard a loud thud. Just making sure all is okay," it was John on the other side; completely oblivious to the actual scene occurring on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, a book from my shelf was knocked over! N-nothing to worry about!"

George grabbed your chin again when you were finished talking, shoving his tongue right into your mouth as you both heard John respond with, "oh, okay. Just making sure you're alright. Have a good night."

You listened closely as the footsteps quieted, and when there was no sign of anyone else on the second floor, let alone at the door, you pulled away from George's kiss.

"Well... how was that?"

"Risky," you replied, a rather unimpressed look on your face as you unraveled your arms from George's shoulders and crossed them over your chest.

"Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, Love," he tried to give you another kiss, but you placed your fingers against his lips. It was your turn to smirk mischievously.

"You know what, Georgie... I think you've had enough action for tonight."

You could see the smug grin fall right off George's face as you removed your hand. Surely you had to have been joking. But when you pushed a little to get off him, his arms fell to his side, a little pout on his face.

"You're serious? Love, you got me all hot and bothered..."

"George, you really thought we were going to go all the way tonight with other people in the house?" You laughed out loud at that; and when you said it like that, he would have had to agree that it did sound ridiculous.

"Trust me, Georgie, I want to," you placed a hand on his cheek in comfort, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he looked up at you as if he was the shy boy you interacted with just an hour before.

"But we both know doing that in an empty house would be far better than having to keep quiet about it, huh?"

All George could do was imagine that situation, eyes drifting shut, and tilting his head into your caressing hand.

"You're such a damn tease," he mumbled, eyes blinking back open after a moment.

"All good things come to those who wait," was all you said, leaving one, sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away, and nodding to his guitar. "We better pack you up and send you home."

You watched as George situated himself, placing his guitar back in the case, closing it and picking it up. You wrapped your arms around him gently, planting another kiss on his cheek.

"By the way... I think that song was beautiful," you whispered to him, and when you pulled away to see him smiling at you, you couldn't help but match the grin on your own lips.

"See you next week? Same time?"

"You don't even have to tell me twice," George responded with, and you just had to lean in for one more smooch on the lips, to which he eagerly reciprocated.

He then opened your window up, and took a step out. You watched as he climbed down the corner of the house slowly, and before he took off down the road, he blew you a kiss, to which you mimicked catching with your hand.

As George headed home, the sun now fallen over the horizon, those intimate moments he shared with you were at the very forefront of his mind. His hands could still feel your bare skin under his fingertips, and his mouth tingled as he remembered what it was like to have your lips on his.

He was just craving for the next moment he had alone with you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: And there we are! hope you all enjoy this, and I hope your Easter weekend was full of sun, and fun! Please let me know if you want to read more so I know it' worth it to post!

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