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bytemee · 2 days ago

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SUPER RICH KIDS — yu jimin.

"super rich kids with nothin' but loose ends."

synopsis. stuck on a miserable family vacation with the same rich elites you’ve spent your whole life trying to escape, you somehow become karina’s new favorite distraction—whether as her escape or just her latest source of entertainment. either way, trouble seems to follow wherever she goes, and you’re starting to wonder if getting caught up in it is a mistake… or exactly what you need.

pairing. rich!girlkarina x rich!girl!reader

warning(s). language, dysfunctional family (they're rich vro), drinking, impulsive/reckless behavior, kissing (OH EM GEE.), and let me know if there's more.

words. 3.4k

authors note. i got a lot of reqs to work on, but chat...im actually gonna go ghost for a bit...wanted to feed u before i left. NOT FOR LONG JUST A BIT.

masterlist. navigation.

the night had started with forced smiles and expensive wine.

a business dinner, your father called it—an important meeting with the yu family about a potential merger, partnership, or investment—something that only mattered to men who measured their worth in profit margins. you were there for appearances, another polished accessory at the table, sitting pretty in an outfit that cost too much and shoes that made your feet ache.

karina yu, seated across from you, was similarly dressed up and looked just as uncomfortable. she was a year younger than you and, like you, was being trained to follow in her father's footsteps. the yu heir, your father liked to say.

"so polite." your mother would smile. "a proper young lady."

and she was. always so obedient, so docile. her eyes lingered on you a little too long every time you refilled your glass, every time you made a face at the bitter taste of wine, every time you raised your arm to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand—the way a boy would.

somewhere between dessert and your father's third whiskey, he made a comment. something about the way you dressed, the way you ate, the way you spoke. the words came out slurred, and your mother didn't say anything, but karina's eyes met yours in a flash of pity. you weren’t even sure what you said back. maybe you laughed. maybe you just took another sip. either way, by the time the dinner ended, you were in the midst of an argument, your father's face flushed with anger, your mother's lips drawn tight with disapproval.

"fuck you!" you'd spat, legs moving of their own accord. "you're such a fucking bastard!"

and then you saw it.

your father’s porsche, gleaming under the valet lights, parked at the front like a monument to his self-importance.

before you could think twice, you were slipping off your shoes and hurling one at the windshield. the crack of impact was louder than you expected, and you watched in a daze as a spiderweb of fissures spread across the glass.

“have you lost your mind?”

you went around the car, popping open the trunk before grabbing one of his sleek golf clubs and bringing it down over the hood; the first hit dented the hood. the second left a long, jagged scratch across the side. the third—

"stop! are you crazy?" your mother yelled.

you barely spared her a glance, breathless as you adjusted your sunglasses, heart pounding in your ears as you brought the club down again and again, watching as the car crumpled under the force of each blow. and when you finally ran out of breath, you looked up and saw the doorman staring. your mother, too, her face pale and expressionless. even your father, still standing by the front door, hadn't moved.

even the yu parents watched with thinly veiled horror.

and then there was karina.

standing just a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her, head tilted ever so slightly as the faintest ghost of a smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

three years later, you weren’t supposed to still think about that night.

but the problem with rich people was that they never let anything die. your father’s car had been replaced by the end of the week, the dinner party swept under the rug, your behavior excused as a rough patch in polite conversation. still, the whispers followed you through every gala, every charity event, every hushed conversation between wives who sipped champagne and smiled like they weren’t enjoying the gossip.

and unfortunately, karina's family, along with others, joined you on this godforsaken vacation, this trip of torture and misery. this was a chance for your parents to play recruiter, and they weren't the only ones.

you try to avoid her. really, you do.

you sit at opposite ends of the dinner table, sip champagne like it might actually make this tolerable, and politely nod at conversations about stock portfolios and summer homes in monaco. but the whole time, her gaze is like a brand. you can feel her eyes on you, burning a hole right through the back of your skull.

"she's still staring," you murmur at some point, leaning into your best friend's ear.

"who is?" he whispers back, turning his head ever so slightly to glance around the room.

you sigh and look back down at your plate, idly playing with the food on your plate. you're not hungry. you haven't been hungry for the last three days. it's a wonder you've managed to keep any of it down. "karina," you say. "she keeps—"

"karina?"

"yes," you hiss. "karina yu. has been staring at me nonstop for the past twenty minutes."

he pauses and looks at you, his eyes widening in understanding.

"oh, right," he says, and then his gaze shifts to your left, and he raises a hand in greeting. "hey," he says, and when you glance up, you see her waving back.

you groan inwardly, and she must hear because the next moment, her gaze is on you again. you meet her stare and watch as she raises her wineglass in a small toast. "she's pretty," your best friend says.

you roll your eyes and look away. "i guess," you say.

she’s trouble, is what you really mean.

but you don’t say it, because then you’d have to explain. you’d have to explain the way she had stood there that night, watching you rip your father’s car apart like it was performance art, the way her lips had curled in approval.

you shift in your seat and pretend like the weight of her gaze doesn’t make your skin prickle. your best friend, ever oblivious, keeps sipping his champagne.

and then—she slides into the seat next to you.

she smells like jasmine, and her hair brushes against your cheek as she leans over to whisper in your ear. "you’re not even pretending to have fun," she says. when you turn your head, karina is right there, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she smiles at you.

you swallow thickly.

“i didn’t know i was supposed to be entertaining anyone,” you say.

she tilts her head. “that��s the thing about you. you always end up putting on a show anyway.”

your grip tightens around your fork. “what do you want?”

her lips press together like she’s holding back a laugh. “a little company.”

“i’m busy.”

“with what?”

you blink at her.

and karina smiles sweetly, cocking her head to one side. her hair spills over her shoulder in a glossy wave, and she tilts her chin up, just a little, her eyes dancing with challenge. she looks good like this—all sharp angles and smooth lines, her clothes tailored to perfection, accentuating every curve. you hate that you notice.

she licks her lips, and your stomach flips.

and just like that, you stupidly take the bait.

“fine,” you say, setting your napkin down with a sharp flick. “where are we going?”

karina grins, like she’s just won something.

the next thing you know, you’re in the driver's seat of some random convertible, the engine purring underneath you. it's not hers; it's yours, and it's not either of your parents’ because you both stole it from the hotel parking lot.

“you’re going to get us killed,” karina says, but she’s laughing, wind whipping through her hair as you speed down an empty road. you shoot her a grin, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the radio until it lands on some old r&b song you barely remember.

“wouldn’t be the worst way to go,” you muse. “at least the headlines would be fun.”

she gasps, clutching her chest in mock horror. “tragic demise of two rich idiots—local community breathes sigh of relief.”

you bark out a laugh, the sound cutting through the wind, and you feel a sharp pang of relief when karina grins back, wide enough to show teeth. you almost miss the turn for the beach, and she yelps as you swerve onto a side street, tires squealing against the pavement. it's late, well past midnight, and the roads are deserted. you can't hear anything over the roar of the engine.

it's electrifying.

"this is the stupidest thing i've ever done," she says breathlessly, and you throw back your head and laugh.

"isn't it?" you say. "and we're only getting started."

karina grins, white teeth flashing in the dark, and then you're driving down the coastline, music blaring, windows rolled all the way down. the ocean air fills your lungs, and you feel lighter than you have in weeks, months—years, maybe.

the beach is empty when you finally pull up, the sand stretching out under the moonlight, waves crashing in the distance. you kill the engine, and the two of you sit there in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of the wind, the water, and your own breathing.

karina shifts beside you, tilting her head as she looks out toward the water. “it’s pretty,” she says, her voice soft.

you follow her gaze, watching as the waves roll in, cresting against the shore, leaving foamy trails in their wake. you nod absently.

"yeah."

you clear your throat and reach for the door handle. “come on.”

she follows without question, slipping off her heels as soon as her feet hit the sand. you do the same, relishing the way the cool grains shift beneath your toes. it feels good after being cooped up all day, stuck in stuffy rooms full of people you couldn’t care less about.

karina inhales sharply.

you turn to look at her, and she laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she walks past you toward the ocean. the breeze catches her dress, making it ripple around her hips, and you follow without thinking, drawn to her like a moth to flame.

karina takes a deep breath, then exhales long and slow. “god,” she mutters, rubbing a hand over her face. “i needed this.”

you smirk. “the break from pretending to be the perfect daughter?”

she huffs out a laugh, but there’s something wry in her smile. “something like that.”

there's an awkward pause where neither of you speaks. karina stares out at the ocean, and you stare at her, watching as her eyes grow distant and thoughtful.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask.

she hesitates, then glances at you. “that night.”

you don’t have to ask which one.

“ah,” you say, stretching your arms overhead. “and here i thought we were avoiding the past.”

“i think about it sometimes,” she admits. “the way you just did it. no second-guessing, no hesitation. you just let it all out.”

you scoff, kicking at the sand. “and look where it got me. my dad replaced the car, my mom pretended it never happened, and i’m still stuck in the same stupid cycle.” you shake your head and run a hand through your hair. "all i did was make things worse."

karina turns to look at you, her eyes sharp as she studies you.

"but you felt better afterward, didn't you?" she asks softly.

you glance away, chewing on your bottom lip as you consider the question. you did feel better. for a while, anyway. but the feeling faded quickly enough. your parents were pissed, and they made sure to remind you how disappointed they were and how embarrassing it was to have their daughter act like that.

"i guess," you finally say.

karina hums thoughtfully, then takes a step closer to you. "would you ever do something like that again?"

you raise an eyebrow. "why? planning on watching again?"

she doesn't flinch. "maybe."

you snort and shake your head, “you liked it, didn’t you?”

and she smiles.

“i like when people stop pretending.”

and there it is—the real reason she keeps following you around, why she keeps pushing you, why she keeps testing you. it's not because she likes you; it's because she's curious. she wants to see how far you'll go, how much it'll take before you crack. you wonder if she's always been like this, if her family's wealth and influence have made her so bored and jaded that she'll do anything for entertainment.

you don't know what possesses you to take a step forward.

but karina doesn’t move away, doesn't even blink; her gaze flicks upward, meeting your eyes. you're taller than her by a few inches, and she has to tilt her chin up slightly to maintain eye contact, and for a moment, you wonder if she's going to kiss you. but instead, she reaches out and touches your cheek. her fingers are warm against your skin, and you swallow thickly as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

her thumb lingers near your jaw. "i'm hungry."

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. "what?"

karina grins and lets her hand fall back to her side. "i said i'm hungry," she repeats, then nods toward the beach. "we should get some food."

you open your mouth to respond, but she's already walking away, headed toward the car, her dress billowing out behind her.

you take a deep breath.

then another.

and another.

and then you follow, because what else are you supposed to do?

an hour later, you were sprawled across the king-sized bed of a five-star hotel that you booked just for tonight with your dad's black card, karina curled up beside you in an oversized robe, giggling into her hand as you held the room’s phone to your ear.

you weren’t sure exactly what time it was, but you didn't care, forcing your voice to be deeper, which was totally not believable and made you sound like a fucking idiot.

"sir," the poor receptionist stammered, "the kitchen is closed—"

"do you know who i am?" you interrupted, deepening your voice even more as you mimicked your father’s business tone. "i could have this entire establishment shut down by morning. now, i want a steak, medium rare, and a bottle of your best wine on the table within the hour."

the line went quiet for a moment, and you could hear typing in the background. karina muffled her laughter against your shoulder before composing herself just enough to put on her best impression of your mother. "and do not forget the crème brûlée," she added, her voice sickly sweet. "my husband simply must have his dessert."

there was another long pause on the other end.

"…right away, sir," the receptionist finally said, defeated.

the moment you hung up, karina lost it, burying her face in the sheets as she laughed. you couldn’t help but grin, watching the way she absolutely delighted in your childish antics, how she encouraged them with her own impulsive ideas. it felt like a dream, something so outside the realm of reality that it was almost absurd. and yet, there you were, playing make-believe like children, stealing bottles of alcohol and ordering room service at 2 am.

"this is crazy," karina said between giggles, looking up at you with shining eyes. "absolutely insane."

you raised an eyebrow. "crazy enough to be fun?"

she blinked at you for a second before smiling. "yes."

you grinned. "good."

the room service arrives anyway (turns out, rich people always get what they want), and karina laughs when the waiter leaves, eyeing the table full of food. she looks like a kid on christmas morning, and you can't help but smile as she takes in all the options. the two of you sit side by side at the table, digging into the assortment of food.

it's probably the most delicious meal you've ever eaten.

karina laughs, taking a sip from her glass of wine as she watches you devour the steak. you try to ignore the way your stomach twists when she smiles at you, but it's hard not to notice the warmth spreading through your chest every time she looks your way. it makes your cheeks flush, and you're suddenly grateful that the lights are dim enough to hide it.

"i can't remember the last time i ate this much," you mumble around a mouthful of food.

"me neither," she admits. "i think i might explode."

"same," you say.

she leans back in her chair, swirling the wine in her glass before bringing it up to her lips. "what are we going to do tomorrow?" she asks.

you shrug. "dunno."

karina sets her glass down and watches you for a moment; the way she studies you makes your breath catch, and you quickly look away, suddenly too aware of how close you're sitting. her knee brushes against yours under the table, a light touch that makes your heart beat faster than it should.

"you've got some sauce—" she gestures vaguely toward your face.

you reach up to wipe it away, but she tuts, shaking her head. "no, here."

before you can react, she leans in, her thumb brushing against the corner of your lips, wiping away the sauce with a soft sweep. your skin burns where she touches you, and your gaze flickers up to meet hers. she smiles slightly, and your breath catches when her thumb lingers on your lip before she pulls away.

"there," she murmurs, licking the sauce off her finger, and oh god—your pulse spikes, and your whole body flushes.

you clear your throat and try to ignore the way the room suddenly feels warmer than before. it's too hot, and your clothes feel tight around your chest. you can't breathe. karina's gaze burns into you, and you swallow hard, trying not to squirm under her scrutiny.

"are you okay?" she asks.

"fine," you manage, reaching for the bottle of wine. your hands shake slightly as you pour yourself a glass, and when you glance back at karina, her eyes are still on you, studying you like you're a 400-page textbook.

you take a large sip.

"so," she says slowly, resting her chin in her palm, "have you ever had a girlfriend?"

you choke on the wine.

karina watches as you splutter and cough, her expression amused as you struggle to catch your breath. when you finally manage to compose yourself, she raises an eyebrow expectantly.

"well?"

"what?"

she smiles, "or a boyfriend? whichever one floats your boat."

"uh…" you trail off, trying to think.

"i haven't either," she says helpfully.

your face burns, and you take another sip of wine, hoping the alcohol will ease the sudden tension in your shoulders. "i haven't really thought about it," you admit.

"really?" she tilts her head curiously. "not even once?"

you shrug, picking at a loose thread on the hem of your shirt.

"okay," she says, and then she slides off her chair and moves around the table, standing next to you. you turn, startled, and she's right there, leaning against the armrest of your seat, her eyes dark as she stares at you.

"kiss me," she says.

your heart skips a beat.

"what?"

"you heard me," she says, smiling a little as she runs a finger along the edge of the table. "kiss me."

"i can't."

"why not?"

"because—" you start and then stop, not sure how to explain why this is a terrible idea. because your family will kill me? because my parents will disown me?

karina's smile widens.

"if you won't, i will."

you blink. "what?"

"i said," she says slowly, "if you won't, then i will."

she steps closer, her gaze locked onto yours. your breath hitches, and you lean back instinctively, but her hand finds your thigh, squeezing gently. she smells like jasmine, and her skin feels warm where it brushes against yours.

"kiss me," she murmurs, eyes dancing with challenge.

you swallow hard.

"okay," you say, your voice hoarse.

her smile widens, and she leans forward, her lips brushing against yours. it's soft at first, tentative, and then her hand slides up your thigh, and your brain short-circuits. she's gentle but persistent, coaxing you open, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you gasp. you let her in, tasting wine and strawberries and something sweeter.

your mind goes blank.

when you pull apart, her eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide. her lips are swollen and pink, and she licks them slowly, savoring the taste. she smiles at you, a lazy, satisfied grin.

"well?" she asks.

your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

"good," you croak.

karina laughs.

you wake up with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily. there's no one next to you, just an empty space where a person should be. the sheets are still warm.

karina left a note.

and a phone number.

call me when you want to have fun again. - karina <3

#bytemee works #aespa karina #karina x reader #aespa x reader #jimin x reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin #kpop x reader #karina x fem reader #aespa #karina x you #karina x y/n #wlw #yoo jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #yoo jimin aespa #karina #karina fluff

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nerdy-novelist017 · 9 months ago

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A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza.

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly.

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?”

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?”

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time.

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at.

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you.

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels.

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride.

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you.

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head.

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude.

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date.

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon.

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date.

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn.

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name.

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny.

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment.

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately.

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins.

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly.

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities.

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

#i need a biker boyfriend #benny cross #benny x bunny #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders #benny the bikeriders #fluff #imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler #benny x reader #motorcycle #austin butler fandom #austin bulter x you

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feeder86 · 4 months ago

Text

Guy Again and Again

Hyde Park was incredible during the Fall. Guy couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else when the leaves started changing colour. He’d lived in London for three years now and had happily started to put down roots. Like any major city, he’d paid an absolute fortune for his house, but it had been necessary to set himself up and enjoy all that the city had to offer. There was always something happening, always new folks to meet and beautiful people to seduce. When he’d been offered a role back home for even more money, he’d declined it, using it as leverage instead to climb even higher up in his company and then side-step into yet another high paying position at another firm. His ambition was celebrated here and Guy earned himself the cringe-worthy reputation of being one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.

“Guy, won’t you come and meet my young lad?” called Sheridan, as Guy was strolling through to his large office.

Guy sighed and glanced quickly over at the others in the space, knowing that they were all feeling exactly the same way. Whilst this was an incredible company to work for, the nepotism involved in the majority shareholder inserting his twenty-two year old son into such a major position, straight out of university, had frustrated them all.

Following the company’s owner into his office, Guy plastered a happy enough smile onto his face and held out his hand to shake the young man’s hand. He’d seen pictures of Robert in the past, on his father’s yacht and throughout the tabloids as he dated London’s latest ‘It Girl’ setting all the fashion trends. They’d also briefly crossed paths the summer before last, when using Robert’s family’s private box at Wembley Stadium. Soccer was a huge game over here and Guy had found himself quite captivated by it.

“Nice to see you again,” Guy offered, shaking the handsome boy’s hand.

“Robert is very keen to get started!” his pompous father announced happily. “I’m sure he’s just what this company needs: a bit of fresh energy injected into it.”

Guy nodded, despite feeling that Robert was going to be nothing more than dead wood for them all to carry. “We’re all delighted to have you here!” he lied.

“My father says you’re the absolute best,” Robert chimed in. “I think he seriously believes you’re going to rule the world one day! I’m definitely looking forward to learning from you this week.”

Guy knew he had been stitched up straight away. “Let me guess. You’re shadowing me this week?” he asked tentatively.

“That’s the plan!” Sheridan nodded, already grabbing his jacket to leave for his golf match at ten.

Guy looked outside into the corridor to see all the sly, grinning faces of his colleagues. They’d all known he was about to be saddled with the new boy, even before he did. Leading the way down the corridor, he noticed an additional computer had been set up at his enormous desk, with space for Robert to work alongside him; typical Sheridan making ridiculous calls yet again.

Robert was generally pretty intelligent and seemed to pick up on what Guy was saying with little effort on his part. Professionally, he appeared no different to the genuinely ambitious young interns they had on the floors below. But, in reality, he was so far removed from them, starting a job at the same level that had taken Guy ten years to even qualify for; not to mention all the incredible hard work and many, many promotions and job changes to get where he was. Indeed, Robert’s privilege was obvious by the way he talked about his travelling and the numerous powerful people he had known ever since he was small. Perhaps, in some ways, that did make him better suited to fly up the ranks early. Robert wasn’t daunted by the bigger clients and there was a sharpness to his mind that was sometimes quite surprising.

“How’s the babysitting going?” asked Angela slyly during the brief time Guy was on his own.

Guy smiled back. He wanted to joke and tell her off for not giving him the heads-up about being stuck with Robert this week. But, to be fair, everything was going fine. “No complaints from me!” he replied, reminding himself that complaining about something that couldn’t be changed was a fruitless exercise at work.

They both stopped talking, watching as handsome Robert emerged from the bathroom looking as sharp as ever: the beautiful hair, the eyes, the strong jawline. Behind him, the female staff couldn’t help but get a peek at those tight glutes and imagine being the lucky lady who would one day get to marry such a fine, well-bred specimen as him. “Are we ready?” he asked Guy, pleased to be heading out to meet clients again; knowing that this was where he could excel.

Getting around London could be a nightmare at times. Occasionally, it was genuinely faster to walk; exactly what ended up happening after roadworks had made it likely for them to be late otherwise. The client was a man called Mr Geoge Evans, owner of an events space that the company wanted to acquire. He was tall and broad, with an immense, solid and rounded gut pushing against the large shirt painted across his torso. It was the feature that most people noticed first about him and the one thing Robert couldn’t seem to stop staring at the moment they started their meeting.

Guy remembered feeling embarrassed and wanting to kick Robert hard for the way he was looking across at the gaping buttons on George’s shirt. After everything he had said about being okay with having this young upstart shadowing him that week, the boy had to ruin it almost instantly. Guy thought on his feet, finding a reason for Robert to need to leave the room and contact the office. Then Guy quickly rounded the whole thing up as fast as he could.

“What the fuck was that?” Guy grumbled as soon as they were walking to the tube station, given that their car had still not been able to reach them.

“What?” Robert asked, trying his best to keep up as Guy stormed on. He didn’t lack self-awareness; he knew exactly what he had done and why Guy had felt the need to remove him from the meeting. “I wasn’t expecting him to be so…”

“Fat?” Guy finished for him. “That’s so ridiculous! You know that right?”

“I was just a little surprised, that’s all. When we spoke on the phone…”

“This is business!” Guy began lecturing him. “You can’t fall to pieces just because some guy doesn’t fit into your perfect world-view of what everyone should look like. You need to get your head out of those glossy magazines you and your girlfriend seem to spend so much time in!”

“Look, I’m not like that!” Robert tried to counter his mentor. “That’s not why I got a bit flustered.”

“Whatever,” Guy sighed, racing down the steps to the tube station. Ultimately, he wouldn’t be able to hang onto this misstep. Robert’s family were the majority shareholders and, no doubt, the twenty-two year old would one day take the reins of the entire company. “Look… there’s no harm done. Just… just don’t ever let that happen again, alright?”

Robert nodded, tapping his card to head down to the Central Line. “I promise!”

Guy didn’t mention the staring incident to anyone when he got back. Robert had been exemplary the rest of the time and it was clear that he had a talent to make it far; especially given his Oxford education. As the weeks progressed, he began to shine more and Guy learned to genuinely appreciate his insight into certain things. Sometimes British etiquette eluded Guy, especially with the types of folks who had been born into extreme wealth, like Robert had.

Likewise, Robert appeared to be impressed with Guy’s talents in return. “You’re pretty smooth when it comes to the ladies,” he laughed as they came out of one meeting.

“Plenty of experience!” Guy joked back.

“I’m guessing that’s why you work out so much?” the pretty boy asked. “It’s not as easy to sweet talk a female client when you have a giant gut spreading into your lap,” Robert chuckled; not realising that his joke would fall so flat.

Guy tried to bite his tongue. It had been the second time Robert had been casually sizeist. “Actually,” he shot back, “some of the most successful business leaders feel being larger gives them more presence to take charge of things.”

“That’s not what my father says,” Robert replied.

“Well, your dad doesn’t know everything,” Guy grumbled back, deciding to shut down the conversation before he started getting annoyed.

At the end of that first month, Robert had offered Guy to come along and watch the international football match in the private box at Wembley Stadium. He would be there with his girlfriend, of course, but Guy was also welcome to bring along a date as well. Martha had been Guy’s instinctive choice. She was loud, greedy and extremely overweight: the perfect choice to annoy someone so superficial and quick to judge others for their weight. Guy called her up, pleased with his plan, but was disappointed to hear that she was back home in Glasgow that weekend. He needed to find someone else - fast!

Ben had been the next choice for Guy. Somewhat smaller and more reserved, but always fun to be around. They had met at a club night for bears about two years earlier, when Guy had been intrigued by the little chub’s confidence to stoll about shirtless through the crowds. Happily, still single, Ben agreed to the date and Guy was delighted to find the man looking so much heavier by the time he went to pick him up. “Look at you!” he marvelled, getting out of his sports car to open the door for the large man waiting outside his apartment block. “Someone has been eating well!”

Ben blushed a little. He knew that for many chub-lovers, seeing someone they had slept with getting even bigger was bound to be a turn on, and he patted his large tummy proudly on the vast shelf that had developed. “I’m pleased that you approve,” he smiled, knowing that he was always in for a fun night whenever Guy asked him out.

The young couples’ faces had been a picture when Guy strolled in with such a large bear as Ben. It struck him that perhaps Robert hadn’t realised Guy’s bisexuality, making it a rather more educational experience for the boy that he had perhaps expected. Ben played his part well, naturally gorging himself and failing to notice his belly peeking out of the bottom of his shirt as he got up and down to cheer at the performance on the pitch. As such, Guy lavished him with attention, proudly driving him back home for his reward. He’d more than made his point, hopefully putting an end to the way Robert would try to casually fat-shame others around him.

Back at work, Robert’s new office had been decked out just as he had requested, shunting Angela down to the floor below. Despite the slow start last month, even Guy winced at how much the new recruit was taking on.

“Wendy has come to me asking to negotiate her pay,” Robert explained, walking into Guy’s office and closing the door. “I’ve been told pay reviews only happen in April?”

“That’s bullshit,” Guy replied, trying to get on with his own analysis work. “That’s just a standard line that is thrown out to try and delay these types of things.”

“Well, either way,” Robert continued, sitting himself down in front of Guy’s desk. “Paying her more is going to dent the progress towards the quarterly profits.”

“Then what does your gut tell you to do?” Guy asked, determined not to spoon feed Robert out of these awkward situations.

Robert paused for a second. “I think we need to give it to her.”

Guy looked up and smiled. It was the call he had never expected Robert to make. “Exactly right,” he nodded. “Wendy is an asset. I know Wendy. She deserves it. And, if you didn’t give it to her, she’d be straight off to another company. Finding a replacement for someone with her responsibilities is time-consuming and costly.”

“I knew you’d view it the same way as me,” Robert smiled. “You always see the bigger picture. Sometimes I feel like my father can’t.”

Guy nodded gently, not wanting to commit to badmouthing the major shareholder in front of his son, despite all the many things he could have said.

“You see people for who they are. And you have the sort of relationships around here that most bosses would kill for. They all respect you and want to work hard because you inspire them.”

Guy almost felt embarrassed at the open compliments and he wriggled in his seat. “Thanks,” he shot back quickly. But there was something in Robert’s eyes; a look, or a feeling. Was the boy developing a little crush on him? All the signs were there and Guy had been in this situation many, many times in the past. He watched Robert walking away, unable to stop himself from checking out the handsome glutes and allowing his mind to imagine what it might be like to fuck the guy. He wasn’t above Robert in seniority around here; there was no major conflict to overcome; especially since he only saw himself staying for another year at the very most. But could he really go there?

It came as no surprise that Robert’s relationship with his girlfriend came to a sudden end very quickly after that. He’d been complaining for some time about the toxic ideals of social media and the constant requirement to be ‘seen’ out in public as often as possible in order to boost her career. “She’s more suited to some actor, or someone who does publicity for a living,” Robert had explained as he shook his head over the fact that their break-up had made it into the middle sections of the national tabloids.

“You’re young, free and single now!” Guy had smiled. “You can take some time for yourself instead.” He hadn’t meant to sound flirtatious, but he didn’t seem to be able to help himself once he knew someone was into him. It was the way he had always been, and he didn’t suppose he would ever change.

“What can I get you gentlemen?” asked the attendant, heading over to their table in the small cafe where they were debriefing after a client meeting. The man was large and broad, with a giant stomach that pressed out of his shirt in a way a lot of the men from Guy’s past would have loved.

“Just a mineral water for me,” Guy answered first. He looked across at Robert and sighed in frustration as the boy stared rudely at that large gut.

This time, Guy didn’t waste any time, giving Robert a quick kick under the table.

“A latte!” Robert shot out, realising immediately that he’d been gawping. “And, uh… have you got any of those brownies left?”

“What the fuck is up with you?” Guy asked the moment they were alone again.

Robert shrugged as if he genuinely failed to understand why he fell to pieces around such obese men. “What do you think it’s like, carrying all that weight around?” Robert asked, still transfixed as the guy headed behind the counter. He glanced back at Guy who was dumbfounded by the question. “Oh, come on…” he sighed. “I saw you with that big guy that time. You must have asked him what it feels like to be so heavy?”

“It’s not something I think about,” Guy replied, seeing that Robert looked unlikely to drop the question unless he gave a more considered answer. “But, I guess I wouldn’t date someone unless they liked their body.”

“Really?” Robert asked. “You date people who actually like being overweight?”

Guy didn’t mind discussing his sex life, but it felt strange to do so with someone from work; someone he wasn’t completely sure he could trust just yet. Back in the early days of his career, it had been slyly advantageous to impress other guys with tales of his sexual conquests. However, as he rose up the ranks, he’d learned to keep these stories to himself, knowing that the expectations were very different up at the top. Now he shrugged, taking his time to reply and only say what he needed to. “There’s nothing sexy about dating someone who hates their body. When I’m with larger folks, it’s usually because they want to be that way. They get off on it.”

Robert sat up a bit and leaned in closer, stimulated by the conversation. “There are people who get off on being fat?”

Guy chuckled. “Of course there are!” There was still so much he could tell Robert; about the gainer boys he had fallen for in the past, and the multiple kinky encounters he had had with guys who were actively trying to fatten themselves up.

The water, and Robert’s brownie arrived at the table and the server promised to follow with the latte shortly. “How do they do it?” Robert asked, eyeing his freshly delivered treat. “How do they let themselves go like that?”

Guy frowned slightly. “Well, what you may see as someone ‘letting-go’ may actually be them building something better for themselves: a body that feels right for them and turns them on. It’s actually very empowering if you think about it.”

“And you think that’s sexy?” Robert asked earnestly; a sweet innocence shining through his bright eyes.

“Of course!” Guy nodded. “Someone loving the skin they’re in - there’s nothing sexier!”

Life at the office suddenly became a lot more relaxed as Sheridan started to take even more of a step back. Guy found himself with a lot more power to persuade the board without the older man’s old fashioned points of view tainting things. It also helped that Robert was so much more in-tune with him; they could present a united front and, although most of the others on the team still grumbled about Robert’s injection into the senior management team, they had to admit that things were running a lot smoother with him around.

Guy had seen so much more of the world since he had moved to work in the UK. It seemed like nothing to pop over to Italy to secure a contract, or fly over to Dubai to capitalise on a lucrative opportunity. Six months after Robert began at the company, the pair found themselves in Sweden, leading part of a business conference. At first, Guy had been frustrated to have Robert coming along, given that it was such a good opportunity to network and find his next career jump. However, it had also been easier having him to share the workload with.

“I didn’t know you were coming down here,” Guy smiled as he saw Robert arriving in the spa changing room just as he himself was dressed only in his tight speedos and pushing the last of his things into the locker. He saw Robert check him out and smiled sweetly to himself. He’d known for a couple of months now that if something was ever going to happen between them, then it probably already would have happened by now. As it was, Robert was very much in the friend-zone. “Are you here to use the pool?” he asked.

Robert shook his head. “I just wanted to try out the sauna,” he replied.

Guy scowled a little as Robert turned his back to start getting changed. In the last few weeks, he’d noticed a little softening of the guy’s jawline and, although it wasn’t always easy to tell under a shirt and dress pants, it did appear as though Robert had gained a few pounds since he’d started full time work. Guy should know, he’d seen more than enough pictures of Robert’s body in the celebrity gossip columns, back when he was dating socialites. So when Robert removed his shirt, Guy could immediately see that his suspicions had been spot on.

It was most obvious when Robert leaned forward to strip his pants; the way his stomach rolled up with fresh fat. He had love handles coming in, clear to see once he turned his back. And those glutes… well, they seemed a little more full that the pert buns Guy had admired when Robert first started at the company. Guy had to say something. He’d been staring too long. He reached out a finger and poked Robert in his stomach. “What’s all this?” he playfully teased.

Robert chuckled nervously and shrank away, turning back around to put his stuff into the locker.

“No, seriously,” Guy pressed on, poking both index fingers into the softness at Robert’s sides now. “Where’s all this come from?”

“I’ve just… not had much time for the gym lately,” Robert replied, stacking his clothes up.

Guy looked at Robert’s butt from behind and nodded in agreement. “Well, that’s pretty obvious!” he agreed. He’d seen lots of guys at the gym start to pack on a few pounds over the years. Often, all they needed was a reality check to get them back on the right path. “I think you need to start doing a little more cardio, buddy,” he declared, turning to walk out and into the pool area.

After a few decent laps, Guy pulled himself out of the water and headed into the sauna, finding Robert still in there, alone. His skin had turned glossy and oily, shimmering as his little roll of stomach fat started to peek over the waistband of his undersized swim shorts.

Guy knew how imposing his own body was: his large frame and well-trained, muscular physique. Even in his early thirties, there wasn’t an inch of fat to spoil his enticing abs and, if anything, he’d only become stronger as the years went by. He flopped down opposite Robert, unable to take his eyes off how chubby the pretty boy looked without his shirt on.

“So, when did all this start happening?” Guy asked, knowing that he needed to address what he was seeing.

Robert wriggled awkwardly and pulled his rolled up towel to cover his crotch and lower half of his softer midsection. “A few months,” he mumbled. “I’ve just been enjoying my food a little more.”

“No kidding!” Guy chuckled, surprised now by how much he could see the extra weight, even in Robert’s chest. “What’re you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Robert shrugged. “I don’t have the time to go to the gym now I’m working so much.”

Guy smirked at this and shook his head. “You mean you don’t want to make time for it?” he asked.

Robert flushed with a little embarrassment. “I’m okay with how I look,” he replied. His attention seemed to turn to Guy’s body instead, given how much scrutiny his own had been under. “Frankly, I had no idea you were so extremely toned,” he nodded at Guy’s torso. “Obviously, I knew you were super fit, but…”

“You’ve never seen me without my shirt on before?” Guy asked, intrigued and surprised at how aroused he was suddenly feeling to be gazed upon by Robert. He sat up straighter and leaned on one arm, posing slightly. There was something so sexy about this dynamic, making Guy feel more powerful and dominant. “How come we’ve never fucked?” he asked, knowing that it was always best to be blunt with the boys who were a little more shy.

Robert’s eyes widened and he stuttered awkwardly, like the overeducated, pompous boy he could very often be. Guy had always loved Robert’s upper class, bumbling English accent and the uptight manners that had been trained into him. It made it all the more fun to tease and flirt with him so blatantly. But with a larger company openly trying to poach him at the moment, Guy knew there wouldn’t be many opportunities like this left to have some fun with the boy. After all, the full benefits package was going to be presented to him as early as next week. He could be gone by the end of next month.

“Well?” Guy asked, pretending to be impatient for an answer. “Do you want to fuck?”

Within ten minutes, the pair were upstairs in Guy’s hotel room, kissing and undressing each other once more. Now that the barriers had been smashed down, Guy was surprised at how keenly Robert’s hands wanted to rub up against and stroke Guy’s erection. The moment the pants were down, the cute boy sank to his knees and took as much of it into his mouth as he could.

Guy exhaled in delight. It was always apparent when someone was genuinely into giving the best blow job they could. It was obvious now just how much he had underestimated Robert’s quiet attraction to him all these months. Like a tightly wound spring, the boy had energetically set to getting them both off the moment the bedroom door had closed, lustfully thrilled by how thick and heavy Guy’s hardness was.

The pair fooled around some more, Guy enjoying the reflections in the large mirror as the pair kissed in front of it. Those doughy little glutes of Robert’s looked so good, Guy knew he needed to take them as soon as he could, squirting lubricant into his hand and sliding it up between Robert’s butt cheeks. He spun the boy around in front of the mirror and gently inserted himself. He knew Robert wouldn’t be fully ready to take him today. It was a gift and a curse being so well endowed, with lovers needing at least two or three sessions to be properly broken in. Instead, Guy contented himself by getting as much in as he could and holding it there, training the hole to stretch. Submissive Robert appeared to love every second as he was held there, in front of the mirror.

“Does this feel nice?” Guy asked the boy, reaching around Robert’s hip to stroke his concrete erection; Robert watching himself getting taken by the older jock in the mirror.

Robert moaned back, his G-spot stimulated, sending his arousal into overdrive.

“Look at us…” Guy whispered, nodding towards their reflections in the mirror.

“I’m so chubby compared to you!” Robert quipped back, making a huge surge of blood pump through his boner, held firmly in Guy’s hand.

Suddenly, it all felt so very familiar to Guy. Robert’s fixation with larger guys had never been about looking down on them. Yet again, had the universe delivered another kinky fat-lover? Guy pressed his oversized erection in deeper, making Robert’s knees almost buckle underneath him. With one hand working Robert’s hardness, Guy used the other in a more experimental way, wrapping his fingers around as much of the fresh blubber in the boy’s stomach as he could, then whispering “It’s a good job you know I like fucking fatties, huh?” he teased. “You’re going to make such a cute chub…”

However close Robert had been before, a surge of pleasure seemed to rip through him. Great jets erupted from between his legs, making Guy chuckle at just how much of it there was and how forcefully it was being expelled from his body. He could always tell when he had just given someone the best orgasm of their life. And, for the first time ever, Guy felt that he didn’t need to climax himself in order to feel completely satisfied.

It was sweet how Robert fell asleep next to him afterwards. Sometimes when the sex was too good, Guy found that whoever it was would tend to imprint on him and become a little possessive. Usually, this was a warning signal for Guy to detach himself as fast as possible. However there was something too intriguing about Robert to give him up just yet. At 5am, he woke Robert with a kiss to let him know he was going down to the hotel gym and promised to meet him for breakfast at 6.30.

“No wonder that ass is so fuckable!” Guy teased, gazing at the plate of fattening meats and carbs Robert returned to their table with. He slipped his hand under the table, rubbing Robert’s knee. His intentions were clear: they were going to go back up to the room before the first session that day. He watched the greedy boy eating, wanting nothing more than to stick his hardness into the salivating mouth. For the first time, he found himself almost captivated by it; the act of eating. Robert definitely had some little hidden kinks when it came to the diet that had added a few pounds to his frame, yet it wasn’t yet clear how conscious he was of them.

Back in Guy’s bedroom, it was obvious how much Robert had overeaten and bloated up his stomach. Despite wanting to get rough and dominant with him, Guy took it slow and made it sensual, noticing how much Robert seemed to love it whenever Guy’s hand drifted onto his rounded middle. The eventual climax was as good as it got, ensuring that Guy broke all his own rules and brought Robert back to his bedroom a further three times before the end of the conference.

Robert’s butt was becoming quite the distraction back in the office. With the guy’s pants getting so tight, the swollen glutes pressed with devastating allure to the material: wider, under-exercised, softening and expanding - was there a more fuckable butt than this in the entire world? Guy knew he was in trouble when Robert bought concert tickets for them both for that weekend. They were slowly morphing into a ‘couple’ despite the secrecy that surrounded everything. It was the point when Guy typically made his excuses and cut things off. Yet something kept him from doing this. When Guy’s job offer came in, he convinced himself that it wasn’t a big enough deal to leave London for; getting his teeth stuck into another major project that would see him wanting to remain in his current job for at least another six months.

“What’re you all laughing about?” Guy asked, diverting into the little kitchen area whilst he was seeing someone on the floor below.

A small group of six people suddenly looked alarmed and stared at him nervously. Guy had had to accept that his seniority in the company meant he would never again be invited along to nights out with the other staff, or be included in the way he had been when he was just starting out. It was just the way these things seemed to work; those nervous eyes looking up at him whenever he ventured out of his lavish office on the top floor.

“Nothing,” shrugged one of them, who seemed to be in the middle of it all.

“Oh, come on!” Guy smiled back. “I could do with a laugh today.”

There was a sigh. “Alright,” the lady shrugged, stepping closer and holding out her cell phone so that Guy could see the screen. “It’s an article about that jumped-up little Oxford graduate upstairs,” she grumbled, referencing Robert; the nepotism of his hiring still failing to impress those lower down in the food chain; those who had to work for everything they achieved.

Guy stepped in to see as she scrolled down a celebrity-obsessed tabloid webpage that Guy had never paid much attention to. He scanned the text briefly, but it was obvious that the pictures were the main focus. There was Robert of one year earlier, looking toned and athletic as he shirtlessly strolled about on his father’s yacht. However, it was the pictures from only last night that provided the entertainment. Robert had been attending a socialite party with some friends, dressed in an unwisely tight shirt that failed to stretch with the addition of a couple of bloating beers. His pants had been a poor fit too, pinching in at his hips and accentuating new love handles that looked particularly unflattering from the angles they had taken. The double chin on Robert also came under scrutiny, with a close up shot from a low angle making it seem more developed than it actually was.

“I didn’t think fat-shaming articles like this still existed,” Guy exhaled in frustration.

“That’s the British press for you,” one of them chuckled; another American, like him. “Fucking ruthless!”

Guy scowled. He wasn’t laughing. He raced back up the stairs and tapped on the window of Robert’s office, beckoning for him to follow. Once inside, he rolled down the blinds and immediately jumped on his computer. “There’s something you need to see,” he declared to a bemused Robert. Once uploaded, he rolled his chair back and allowed Robert to step in front and see the screen for himself.

“What a bitch!” Robert laughed, recognising the name of the journalist. Everyone seemed to know everyone else in Robert’s world. “This is one of the most vicious things I’ve ever read about myself,” he smirked.

“Aren’t you pissed about it?” Guy asked, feeling exasperated at Robert’s laid back attitude. “We can send it to the legal team; see if there’s anything we can do to have it taken down.”

“And then sue them? For what exactly?” Robert asked back. “There’s nothing that’s not true in there. I really have gained about 50lbs since last year,” he pointed at the text on screen.

Guy sat back, staring at Robert’s chubby butt as the boy continued to lean down at his computer right in front of him. Having initiated a ‘hands-off’ policy at work, Guy was finding it hard to resist touching that big, bloated butt that had been captured so magnificently in the pictures. Robert was smelling great and his fresh love handles seemed to be pushing out even more than Guy had seen them before. He was turned on. For the first time in his life, he felt aroused in a way that he was unable to put into words. Despite his outrage at seeing the cruel article on Robert, he couldn’t deny the fact that it had turned him on. It was a feeling he disliked in himself and he had wanted to push it away. Sure, he had dated guys in the past who would have enjoyed the very much public disapproval of their weight gain, but how was he to know that Robert would appreciate any of that? Had dating those gainers warped Guy’s brain into finding all that public humiliation irresistibly arousing?

“At least the firm got a mention,” Robert smiled, stepping away from the screen at last. Was that a bulge he was trying to conceal? “You know what they say: all publicity is good publicity!”

Guy stood up and placed his hands on Robert’s rounder butt, pulling him into him. Fuck the self-imposed rules about not kissing in work; he was horny and so was his cute little chub. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Guy whispered seductively, safe in the knowledge that the blinds were closed.

“Even though the whole of London is laughing at me?” Robert teased back.

“Fuck everyone else!” Guy shot back. “You know I’d never ask you to diet,” he whispered alongside another kiss. “In fact, why don’t you let me take you out for dinner tonight; someplace with the lovely, greasy, high-carb junk food you can’t get enough of…”

Robert cooed with interest, allowing Guy to kiss him over and over again. “And I can eat as much as I want?” he asked, continuing the flirtation.

Guy smiled proudly and bounced the doughy glutes he was going to pound later on. “You bet!” he nodded. “You won’t hear any complaints from me!”

Guy wondered how much longer it would be until the all important conversation with Robert would happen. It had been almost five months since they’d hooked up on the business trip and, despite the secrecy around their relationship, neither of them was seeing anyone else. For Guy, it was a huge deal to have committed to sleeping with only one person in that whole time, yet it had all happened quite naturally. Sexually, it seemed that the pair of them were very compatible. Guy would swiftly move from a romantic, nurturing lover, into one with the fitness and stamina to fuck Robert all night long. In return, Robert liked to be seduced and tempted. There was a submissive side to him and he enjoyed being pampered and taken care of. Since getting together, it was obvious that his weight gain was speeding up and he’d pushed out quite the beginner-belly in that time. It was sitting, round and tempting in his shirts, making Guy appreciate how lucky he was that Robert felt so comfortable with him to just…let his appetite go like he had. The extra pounds felt like their own, quiet love language, despite the fact that it was clearly symptomatic of something much more erotic.

“Quit staring!” Guy laughed as a fat guy waddled into the restaurant behind his similarly obese wife. In the past, he’d found it embarrassing how much Robert would ogle; his fascination towards those extreme bodies getting the better of him.

“Sorry!” Robert replied, trying to refocus on his menu. Freshly shaven, his new double chin always looked so adorable when his head was in that position. Only a few minutes earlier, they’d bumped into a few friends of Robert’s ex; all of them staring disapprovingly at the little pot belly that was starting to make itself very well known.

Guy reached his giant hand under the table and stroked Robert’s knee, not quite knowing what was going through his head. “Order as much food as you like, okay?” he smiled sweetly.

Robert nodded and didn’t disappoint.

“You’re doing it again,” Guy laughed later on, as the pair of them were sitting in a bar near Soho, enjoying the buzz of the evening. “I’ll have to take you home to the US sometime. We have some of the fattest guys around, especially where I’m from, in West Virginia.”

Robert shook his head as if he was trying to restart his brain, apologising once more. “I don’t know why I do it,” he sighed. “I just…” he began, before sighing with frustration at being unable to put it into words.

“You just need to know what it feels like,” Guy finished for him.

Robert turned his head to look at Guy properly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he nodded, seemingly delighted that his lover knew him so well.

Guy slipped his hand onto Robert’s little pot belly, rubbing it back and forth. “I saw the little boner you got, reading that mean article about yourself,” he teased.

Robert looked around, checking that no one else could see them. He smiled, turning back to Guy and allowing himself to be seduced; Guy’s lips getting aching close to his own. “Oh, yeah?” he whispered excitedly back.

“I’ve known for a long time,” Guy smiled, slipping his fingers under the slight overhang of belly fat and jiggling. “You want to be a real fat boy, don’t you?” His voice was almost cracking with arousal. He loved kinks in all their different forms, having experienced so many with the great variety of sexual partners he had had over the years. But this weight gain kink seemed like so much more; the physical transformation, the contrast; the confidence, combined with humiliation and submission. It ticked so many boxes for him. Best of all, Guy had had the time of his life these last few months, trying to gently tease it out of Robert. “It’s the reason why I’m taking you for more food after we leave here,” he smiled. “I know that you need to experience what it’s like to carry a much larger gut than this.”

Like putty in Guy’s hand, Robert kissed him. “I can’t believe you’re willing to put up with this,” he chuckled, lifting his arms higher so that Guy could jiggle his stomach even more. “Most people would just think I’m a freak!”

Guy smiled back. “Maybe I’m enjoying it,” he teased, grabbing a full wedge of Robert’s belly fat and just holding it still for them both to see. “Maybe I’m a freak too...”

Robert grinned with lust. “I ate so much before at the restaurant!”

“You did,” Guy smiled. He’d never particularly enjoyed waiting around as his lovers overate to satisfy these types of kinks. However, he at least understood how it all tied in with the erotic process of gaining weight; the greed, the gluttony, the deliberate bloating with calories. “...And you’re going to eat even more shortly,” he whispered back.

Robert raised his eyebrows. Was Guy really serious about that?

“You’re a gainer,” he stated frankly to Robert. “You do realise that, yeah?”

Robert looked around once more, checking that they were still unobserved. Somehow, putting a label on all this had suddenly solidified everything in both their minds.

“I’ve seen all this before. You need to keep pushing; keep overeating, again and again. Otherwise your weight will plateau and your belly will stop expanding.” He looked at his lover seriously. “And you don’t want that, do you?”

The chubby boy stared back with absolute lust. He shook his head, picked up his beer and drained the remainder of his pint. “Come on then!” he grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

The prospect of moving in with a lover was something Guy had never believed was right for him. Yet, there he was, unloading all his things into Robert’s city apartment, whilst the rest of his stuff had gone into long-term storage. It had been quite the gamble, releasing the equity in his home to further invest in the start-up AI company he had sunk a vast amount of cash into three years earlier. However, it was now or never if they were to corner the market like they needed to. Robert had agreed and been the one to suggest the cohabiting solution; his business advice being the one Guy trusted more than any other, having worked so closely for months now. As a couple, they worked well. They understood the joy they both got from their work and shared a similar mindset when it came to almost all other things. Stil, moving it had made Guy nervous, and it had taken him longer than his rational business brain normally operated in order to make a decisiona bout it. However, in return, Guy now had a majority 62% share in his own company, and had found that he could live more than happily alongside his doughy lover in North London.

With Guy around, Robert had seemed to double down on his weight goals and recommit in a way he had never allowed himself to before. Just like Guy was pouring protein shakes into himself after the gym, Robert was doing much the same with his own fattening concoctions; his kinks developing in all new ways. Within a couple of days, they had fucked in every room; Guy being unable to resist the fresh, plump broadness of Robert’s once toned and slender butt cheeks.

Now that Robert could be so open about his desires to gain weight, he actively enjoyed listening to Guy’s past experiences. Unlike most people, who didn’t want to hear about their partners’ previous lovers, Robert wanted to hear tales of Mikey and Dillon over and over again, and how Guy had sat back, excitedly watching them growing fatter and fatter.

“I don’t know what my parents are going to think about us being together,” Robert fretted, knowing that his family were soon returning for the holidays from their villa in Italy.

“Why?” Guy asked. “Because I’m the first man you’ve dated?”

“No,” Robert smirked cheekily back. “Because you’re an American!” he teased.

The pair laughed and Guy launched into tickling him for his playful rudeness. “Seriously, though. Your dad loves me. Before he stepped back from the business, we used to get on great.”

Robert nodded, but there was a worry in his eyes that didn’t abate as the big day arrived. Guy should have been aware that something was wrong the moment Robert slipped on the giant sweater that morning; the one with the huge roll-up neck. Black and loose fitting, it was clear that the man was trying to conceal the extent to which he had fattened up in the last twelve months. But in so doing, what he actually became was a dark, thick, shapeless block, with chubby thighs that strained against the smart pants he wore below.

Guy had had relatively little to do with Robert’s family since they had started dating. The pair had both had the sense that their relationship wasn’t being taken all that seriously. Robert had not long turned twenty-four and his dad had openly referred to his son’s romantic attachment as a ��phase’ that Robert was going through. As such, Guy dressed smartly, cancelled all his plans for Christmas Day, prepared suitably expensive Christmas gifts and drove himself and Robert to the family home in Kent; a lavish country manner, handed down over generations.

Despite everything Guy had anticipated, he hadn’t been the focus of the day whatsoever. Gasps and horrified looks greeted them as Robert strolled in and removed his large winter jacket. The comments hit hard and fast. They were harsh, fatphobic and unjustified, setting Guy at odds with the family each time he called them out, unprepared to let their prejudices slide.

“I thought you guys video called every week?” Guy whispered to Robert the moment they had a second alone.

Robert seemed drained and exhausted from it all. “I may have told them my camera has been broken these last few months,” he replied.

Guy exhaled, now realising the absolute shock everyone must have felt. Despite the relatively good job the sweater was doing at masking a lot of the blubber, since September, Robert’s cheeks had been blowing up in a way that had altered the entire shape of his face. The gains had been further documented in a second critical article about his appearance back in October, however Guy suspected that such garbage hadn’t reached the family, safely tucked away in Italy, upon the shores of Lake Como.

“Mum and Dad are going to remove me from the company,” Robert fretted on the way home. “Especially now you’re leaving.”

“No they’re not!” Guy replied, trying to calm his boyfriend’s melodrama. “Even your dad can’t argue with the share price since you started running things. He’s just pissed and lashing out.”

“Dad doesn’t want ‘a fat guy’ to be in charge,” Robert grumbled next, quoting his father’s words exactly. “I was hoping today would be about them getting to know you properly, but…”

Guy sighed. The day had been disastrous. He could tell that he was going to be at odds with Robert’s family until he agreed to do what they wanted and insist that Robert dieted. They both felt flat for the remainder of the evening, making Guy wish he had cancelled his flight home to see his folks that week.

Upon his return, a very different Robert greeted him. A new personal trainer had been appointed and, together, the pair of them had cleared away anything in the cupboards that she felt was contributing to Robert’s ‘weight problems’.

“You’re not cross, are you?” Robert asked.

“Cross?” Guy echoed. “Why would I be cross?” he chuckled, hugging the man he had fallen so deeply for. “Gaining is your thing, not mine. If you want to quit, I’ll support you however I can.” In truth, he had never expected Robert’s gains to last forever. Sure, the man had caught the gainer bug, but it wasn’t quite as extreme or important to him as it had been for someone like Mikey, in Guy’s past.

Robert hugged him sweetly back, having made up his mind that a new year demanded a fresh start. He began eating better and taking Guy’s advice on nutrition; even joining him for a round or two at the gym. Robert was soon pulling out his older clothes from the back of his closet, replacing the large winter sweaters with more fitted t-shirts in time for the Spring. Yet, two cute and stubborn love handles remained at his sides; a testament to the kinky fun that he had once enjoyed so much.

Guy had never enjoyed work so much since he’d left Robert’s family firm to head up the AI company he had invested so heavily in. Now he was no longer just making money for other people, he could work hard, put the work in, and reap the rewards tenfold. There was so much potential with the technology, and he had been working closely with the British Ministry of Defence to showcase how they could use some of their adapted systems. It was exciting, that buzz of adrenaline from making things work, capitalising on successes and carving out new opportunities for an increasingly valuable and influential company.

Robert was busy with his work too. With his father and Guy out of the way, things actually became easier to manage and there was a clear leadership structure in place.

“Off out for lunch with clients again?” Guy teased him, looking over Robert’s shoulder and seeing the calendar on his cell phone screen. “Careful! You’ll be getting all chunky again!” he joked, sliding his hands over Robert’s chest and down to the small, remaining store of belly fat that refused to budge.

A bulge in Robert’s pants jumped to attention whenever Guy joked about his yo-yoing weight. Now that Robert had relaxed a little, he’d wanted Guy to start the kinky talk in the bedroom once more, telling him how fat he could be and the things he would do to his body once he was round and blubbery. This was the thing Guy liked best about dating those with kinks; it was just so easy to turn them on and have them pumped up and ready for some sexy action. There were trigger actions and words that could flip any boring situation into something exciting and arousing, all with so little effort. And, once again, Robert was nursing quite the erection.

“For my birthday next week, I want to try pouring double cream down your throat,” Guy whispered to him. “Like we used to in the old days.”

Robert moaned in pleasure at the thought, clearly replaying those kinky memories from the past.

“You’d forget about your diet for one day, wouldn’t you?” Guy asked, sliding his meaty hand over Robert’s crotch.

Robert nodded submissively. The old habits were creeping back in; the longing to feel his body holding more weight again. The instances where he was willing to forgo his strict exercise regime were increasing. Guy knew that it was only a matter of time before the gains began anew. Perhaps it would be a fun life, this continuous cycle of weight gain and loss.

Taking Robert over to visit Guy’s family had been considerably less stressful than the Christmas in Kent. Guy’s mother had long accepted that her handsome son was a law unto himself, living a whirlwind existence that she could hardly comprehend. She liked Robert, thinking him handsome and much like the typical romantic, bumbling Englishmen of the many movies she had watched over the years. Guy’s aunts had agreed, never noticing once how much Robert was overeating the entire trip.

Surrounded by tempting, tasty foods around every corner, as well as fascinating specimens of obesity in Charleston, Guy’s home city, Robert had carried a lust about him the entire week. For Guy, it reminded him why he loved dating gainers so much. As Robert gorged himself on take-out in the hotel room, Guy could hold the man’s impossibly hard shaft, playing with it as gently and delicately as he could, for fear that it could, and would, explode at any second.

“I want to be a fat boy!” a horny Robert would exclaim, right before climaxing, time and time again.

Guy would then chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. “I know you do!” he’d shoot back, his eyes dancing with delight; the greatest of all pleasures seeing his boyfriend overtaken by his own lust. In truth, it would be easy. Robert had already fucked up his metabolism last time. The pounds failed to shift like they should in a normal, athletic, mid-twenties male and they packed back on with shocking speed. But when Guy told him that, there was no stopping the sudden surge from Robert’s groin, and the complete mess that was made all over the bed as jets flew in every direction. A simple week away had spiked Robert’s weight by an incredible fifteen pounds.

“You look so fucking sexy!” Guy growled, admiring the large butt that had reappeared on his lover, filling his work pants right back up again.

Robert twisted his hips in the mirror to get a good look, smiling proudly. “I wish you were a proper feeder,” he sighed. “I know I would go so much further if I knew you were going to get off on making me gorge myself.”

Guy tried not to show how cut up he felt. He remembered how he had lost previous lovers for the exact same reason. They wanted more from him than he felt capable of giving. Sure, he loved bringing Robert to the absolute heights of lust, but he wasn’t in the habit of devising a food schedule, nor engaging in endless calorie counting; the true nuts and bolts of gaining. Guy considered how best to remedy this. No longer having an office to travel to each morning, he used the time to stock up the cupboards with all the things he knew Robert liked to feast upon when he was horny. And boy, during this most recent gainer phase, those fresh pounds certainly caused Robert to be horny! It was like a self-propelling cycle of lust, overeating and pleasure. In the time since Robert had last gained, Guy had developed a better knowledge of the kinky little pet names his lover enjoyed: Piggy, Fat Boy and Porker. He could throw them in whenever he wanted, and enjoyed messaging Robert at work to ensure he was wound up and horny by the time he got home, ready to eat.

The results were inevitable. Sexy, undiluted fat slid back onto Robert’s body with ease. His butt blew back up even more, but he was undoubtedly carrying more on his belly this time, making even his largest shirts requiring upgrades.

“Are these new trousers?” asked Robert one morning as he trotted about to get ready.

Guy, who had already returned from an hour-long session at the gym, smirked and nodded his head. “With a little extra growing room for my Fat Boy!” he whispered teasingly back. In truth, he knew that the same thing would eventually happen as last time: Robert would get put off and start his diet all over again, making himself miserable in the process. What he needed was a lover who would ease him into the changes smoothly and be there to show him how sexy his swelling body could be; similar to how a true feeder would; the ones who consumed Robert’s fantasies as he watched his body swelling up.

Now that Robert had been at his family’s firm for over two years, he didn’t worry about suddenly being replaced by his disapproving family. They needed him, as well as his sharp business brain, to keep bringing in the flow of wealth. Likewise for Guy, things had continued to go from strength to strength and there had been some decent press coverage of the technology his company was developing. They’d bought premises in North London and were expanding into the north with further development centers. The success was intoxicating, and when Guy felt happy, he certainly became hornier and hornier.

“Head back!” Guy ordered his boyfriend as he held the pot of cream aloft. He smirked, looking at how insanely hard his blubbery boyfriend got whenever Guy treated him to a feeding like this; never failing to explode at the prospect of greater amounts of deliberately fattening calories.

Down they all went, time and time again; the fat building into his waist, puffing up his arms and broadening out the glutes; each pound making Robert hungrier for more. Hitting 270lbs had been a huge thing for him, but Guy wasn’t sure the boy could make it to the full three hundred. Already, he had started to complain about how much he was sweating and a couple of his friends had dropped him from their groups. He now looked so contrasting in appearance to Guy. Whilst this was thrilling and exciting on good days; bad days, he felt self-conscious and low.

Guy had been thinking about it for some time as he set his computer up in his hotel room. Being so far away from Robert for six weeks had been challenging, but the business opportunities in California were unrivalled. Guy could see how much further ahead his own company’s technology was to any other. Of late, all they had to do when encountering issues was to question the technology itself, leading to massive creative growth, developing at a faster pace than any of them had ever anticipated. It was the whole reason why he knew it wouldn’t fail him with Robert that evening. The computer knew the objective: getting Robert as horny as possible by making him eat the most calories that it could.

The deep-fake version of Guy came on the screen. It really was remarkable seeing Guy’s own mannerisms and voice reproduced so flawlessly. “Are you ready to eat for me, Fat Boy?” it asked.

Immediately, Guy could see the naive Robert responding. He began to eat to the gentle teasing of the software. As Robert replied to it, the computer seemed to learn more and more about him, soon branching off-script and generating its own responses that it knew its target would better appreciate. In a matter of minutes, it was speaking to Robert as if it had an even more in-depth knowledge of the man’s kinks than Guy had acquired in the last three years. And just look at Robert go! He was gorging himself like an absolute pig, rubbing his fattening belly and jiggling it in a way that Guy had never witnessed him doing before. He didn’t need to track the calories that Robert was eating, the computer was scoring it all at the bottom of his screen; the number steadily increasing towards the target. “Come on, Fatso!” the software teased, prompting whenever required. “Get it all down for me!”

By the time Guy got home, he knew that Robert’s pants were going to be completely busted. There was no way the man could cope with encouragement like this every evening and not pack on a staggering amount of fat. How exciting it would be, knowing that his lover was about to be a lot softer the next time he touched him…

Looking at the data from these sessions, Guy picked up a lot of tips by the time he made it home. He reconfigured the software, generating full reports and connected up the bathroom scales into the system so that he could gather even more information. It was clear that the trial was making a huge impact, especially when it started messaging Robert at work, reminding him of the importance to eat; using the trigger words it knew to be the most effective. When Robert’s watch would feed into the system that he was feeling stressed or low, the software would generate further kinky messages and even purchase food to be delivered that it knew would spike Robert’s dopamine. But in the monitoring of what Robert ate, the computer soon learned which foods promoted Robert’s weight gain the most. Unlike many fatties, heavy carbs, like pasta, failed to have the impact that meats and cheeses appeared to generate.

With such immediate effects, Robert had rapidly surpassed his previous high weight, entering into all new, blubbery territory. For Guy, it was incomprehensibly erotic to be able to touch or grab any part of his lover’s body and have the man turned on to such a wild extent. Using buzz words or phrases from the software reports made Robert instantly hard. Wafting a sugary treat under his nose, or commenting on the disastrous fit of the man’s clothes created a sexual arousal like nothing Guy had seen before. It was as if Robert’s entire sex drive had been trained to activate upon even the gentlest jiggle of his fleshier body. In Robert’s own words, the system had been ‘the best gift’ he had ever received. Even as he surpassed 300lbs, all thoughts of dieting appeared to be completely off the table.

“That’s Rachel Rivero,” Robert pointed out a few weeks later as he and Guy attended a charity event in The City.

“So, that’s her!” Guy smirked, gazing upon the journalist who had written all the critical articles about Robert’s weight gain. The most recent piece, only last week, had been the most savage of all as she even chased up quotes from members of Robert’s family to comment on how significantly obese he had become. “She’s hardly slim herself!” Guy grunted disapprovingly at the middle aged woman sipping champagne by the large ice sculpture.

Guy bided his time, leaving Robert with some mutual friends before he slipped back to find the journalist in question. He had the instinct to try and protect his lover, wanting nothing more than this fatphobic, judgemental woman to simply back off from picking on Robert.

“My name is…” Guy began, holding out his hand the moment there was an opening to introduce himself to her.

“I know who you are,” the lady sighed back, as if she already knew everything Guy was going to say. “The answer is ‘no’. I get good numbers on my articles about your little boyfriend.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Although, maybe the real story is why such a handsome man as yourself would even go after someone who struggles so much with his weight?” She eyed his powerful body up and down. “You are quite the specimen!” she smirked, as if smelling a potential story.

“Or, maybe the headline should be about you,” Guy stated, smiling confidently. “Picking on Robert by writing mean articles about him, simply because you'd ended your secret, extra-marital affair with his father… it doesn’t exactly smack of professional integrity, does it?”

Rachel stiffened, sensing a challenger. “Darling, no one’s going to believe that!” she smirked, starting to walk away.

“They will with all the evidence I have saved on here,” Guy returned with an equally condescending smile as he lifted his cell phone. “Pictures, documents, receipts, CCTV footage,” he nodded. “It’s amazing the things you can dig up when you set your mind to it…”

The woman glared, understanding that this was no bluff. Ten minutes was all it had taken for Guy to access the software to complete a deep dive into everything about this woman. What would have taken a personal investigator five years to amass had been automatically downloaded onto Guy’s cell phone, all whilst having a glass of mineral water at the bar.

“You don’t want to start something with me,” Rachel warned, retreating nonetheless.

“I’m sure I won’t need to,” Guy threw back, smiling victoriously. “Just leave Robert alone!”

Pleased with himself, Guy walked back over to Robert, gazing upon that thick, chubby ass with pride. Ever since he’d introduced the virtual feeder tool, Robert had been piling on the blubber like never before; those soft, squishy glutes showcasing every last calorie that had been desperately consumed. Robert never would have worn pants so snug to come to an event like this before; having also chosen a shirt that stretched so unflattering across his love handles. To Guy, it seemed so thrilling; like Robert’s kinkiness was being harvested and controlled; he desired food and sex in equal measures and had become more submissive to his lust for Guy than ever before. When he held the fat boy's little dick in his hand, it was so devastatingly hard, and always pathetically easy to bring keep it teetering on the very edge of an extreme orgasm.

Guy snuck up behind him and rested his strong arm over his lover’s shoulders, turning and seeing Rachel eyeing him coldy from afar. She really had been a hateful presence these last couple of years. Although the AI software had recently seemed to find a way to make Robert enjoy the humiliating content and pictures in those articles, letting her know that she couldn’t push them around had still felt every bit as satisfying as Guy had hoped. Now they could at last live their lives in peace.

“Oh my goodness!” Guy exclaimed four weeks later, seeing the article the moment he woke up, having had it sent to him by three different people in his circle. He could feel the dread consuming him as each paragraph made for more and more damning reading. Not only was this new article providing the most extreme pictures of Robert’s over 360lb body to date, but that disgusting journalist had clearly set out to ruin Guy himself. There he was, being outed as: ‘The world’s most prolific feeder.’

For the first time in years, Guy’s first love, Mikey, was staring up from the screen at him; comparison pictures of them both from when they’d started college, alongside a recent picture of Mikey with an additional four hundred pounds filling up his body. There were quotes from people Guy had known in college, twisted to back-up the case that Guy had fed and ‘destroyed’ a promising young academic with his devious kink.

Quite a few paragraphs were devoted to Dillon too. That bastard had even provided Rachel with quotes, speaking openly about how much Guy had enjoyed his greedy appetite and lust for his expanding body. “Without him, I never would have ended up at 500lbs,” he’d stated, right before the article went on to detail, in quite devastating detail, the timeline of Robert’s own transformation; gaining weight pretty much as soon as he had met Guy and started dating him.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that Guy’s reputation was in tatters. The comments section alone was enough to show just how cleverly Rachel Riverto had twisted all those little facts to make him seem like the most evil being to have ever walked the Earth. The timing couldn’t have been more disastrous. It had been a sting operation, ensuring that the Ministry of Defence would pull out of the major deal they were about to sign with Guy’s company that very afternoon, destroying years of work that had led up to this moment. Guy felt sick to his stomach. In his whole career, he’d never experienced such a personal, calculated attack.

It was ironic; in all those years, Guy had never considered himself a feeder. He’d simply enjoyed sharing in these guys’ kinks and admired their confidence as their bodies expanded in ways that most of society disapproved of. There was no crime in that; was there?

Having built up more and more shares over the years, Guy was able to refuse the wishes of those in his company who wished for him to step down; though he had to fight hard and argue well for that privilege. With every setback came a further opportunity, Guy had decided, looking at his enormous, lardy boyfriend getting hard by reading all the comments on the new pictures of his 360lb body. With the complete shit storm that had consumed Guy’s life, it was cute how Robert seemed to care so little, and how incredibly hot he appeared to find it all instead. The Robert of old would have run a mile the second a scandal like this broke out. Now, it was all part of the erotic play that was his life.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Robert asked, feasting upon a large pizza and stroking his giant, fat-filled stomach in front of the TV, much like he did every evening.

Guy smiled, feeling, in a strange sense, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. There was no way he could have watched Robert grow like he had in the last six months and not realise that there was a serious business opportunity in all this. However, he never would have had the confidence to go for it had his name not been dragged through the mud like it had been that week. He rubbed his finger proudly across his lover’s enormous double chin. The AI had prompted Robert to keep it well shaved and it really had helped to make him look more obese than ever before.

“I may not be a feeder,” Guy began. “But I’ve somehow created the most effective motivation tool in the world,” he smiled. “And I imagine that’s not the only thing this technology could do,” he nodded, enthused by the untapped potential of what he had developed. “I believe that there are billions of people with other fun, playful kinks; just like this, too embarrassed to share it with another human being.”

Robert pulled a sceptical face, like he hadn’t even realised how much his own behaviours and physical appearance had been transformed by the technology that had been brought into his life by Guy.

Guy grabbed a giant wedge of Robert’s belly fat as he continued to make his point. “The technology was already good, but you realise you’ve packed on almost 40lbs since we introduced your brain scan data into the system six weeks ago? You wake up in the night to eat ice cream, you can’t seem to get off unless you’re stuffed! You’ve turned into this great big, fat ball of kink!” he nodded proudly. “If I market this slowly, collect more neural data…” he explained, more to himself than anyone else. “I could get better at mapping these kinks; all the different fetishes out there! Then I could provide people with the most erotic experiences of their lives; unlock desires they never even knew they had!”

“It’s still only a face on a screen,” Robert replied, seeming to cautiously accept some potential in what Guy was saying.

“Then we take it off the screen!” Guy smiled. “We put it in ear-pieces for bored husbands and wives, wanting to spice up their love lives. We use it to create bespoke AI erotic movies for folks to enjoy. We develop androids that can pleasure their targets like nothing else on the planet. By the eightieth generation of this software, the possibilities will be limitless!”

Robert stacked another two slices of pizzas and bit down on them both, nodding. “Alright,” he nodded. “It’s a pretty lucrative idea,” he agreed.

Guy smiled proudly and kissed his fattening lover, admiring the vast contrast between their bodies as they made love later that evening.

“Do you think this is going to happen to more folks then?” Robert asked as he pinched his belly fat. “Your AI systems have learned so much about my fat kinks, it’ll uncover it in more people?”

“Without a doubt!” Guy grinned back, taking hold of Robert’s fat himself and jiggling it joyfully. “Hundred of them. Thousands. Maybe even millions! Delicious, kinky little fuckers, growing their bellies out, just like you!”

“That journalist was right,” Robert smiled, feeling himself starting to climax at the touch. “I really am in way over my head!”

“You think so, Fatty?” Guy asked, having learned from the neural data how much Robert’s arousal spiked at that name.

Robert nodded, his eyes rolling back into his head. “...I really am dating the world’s most prolific feeder.”

Guy smiled, watching as Robert could hold back his orgasm no longer. He was about to bring this pleasure to everyone, across the entire world. Again and Again. After all these years, perhaps he was feeder after all…

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

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ustrumpnews · 21 days ago

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a2zsportsnews · 21 days ago

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Ricky Ponting nearly hits hole-in-one on par 4 at New Zealand Open pro-am, video, Aussie cricket great’s golf skills, latest news

His golfing talent is already well known, but even by Ricky Ponting’s standards this was other worldly. Watch the Challenger PGA Tour of Australasia LIVE with Fox Sports, available on Kayo. New to Kayo? Get your first month for just $1. Limited time offer. Playing in the New Zealand Open during the Pro-Am component of the event, former Australian cricket captain Ponting produced the shot of a…

#Aussie #Cricket #Golf #greats #hits #holeinone #latest #News #Open #par #Ponting #proam #Ricky #Skills #video #Zealand

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gabbytvclarke · 2 months ago

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The dog and the postwoman

Part two here! ♥

• Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!Bambino Becky and friend!George Clarke) • Summary: Y/n is a newish YouTuber who gets invited to join a ChrisMD pub golf video, alongside her newfound crush. The pair are subtly teased throughout by the other members, who ship them. • Slow burn fluff, strangers to friends to… something more? Lots of flirting, exchanged glances, light touches, almost-kisses. • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, mentions of vomit (not graphic at all) • Word count: 9,537 words

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n????? ↳ Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Just a few comments flooding in ChrisMD’s latest video, this one with yt/n’s pub golf debut:

Y/n was quite new to the content creator scene. She created a few vlogs and reaction videos here and there with little to no views, despite her efforts and good content. Her TikToks were the same. Until one day one YouTube video exploded, her subscriber count grew, alongside TikTok followers. All of a sudden one George Clarke would comment on one of her TikToks, and she slowly became good friends with him. Their friendship became more well known after guest starring on the Useless Hotline podcast. Following that, she collaborated with BambinoBecky on her own channel.

Through George and Max, y/n met ChrisMD and Arthur Hill, and that’s how she wound up on one of Chris’s pub golf videos.

There was no particular theme to this pub golf video, until the costumes came out of course. With Calfreezy as the usual referee, dressed in usual ref attire, the pairs and costumes were as follows:

Arthur TV and Chip in dog onesies, AKA ‘Bone Appetite’

ChrisMD and George in pickle costumes, AKA ‘Team Gherkings’

Y/n and Becky dressed as post-women, AKA ‘The Fe-mails’

This is y/n’s first time meeting Arthur, Cal, and Chip, but she was quite nervous about meeting the Arthur TV after he’d been so hyped up by George and Arthur Hill.

With Arthur turning up later (as usual) they didn’t get a chance to properly meet each other, aside from quick ‘hellos’ and name introductions before the filming began. If she was honest, y/n was always intrigued by Arthur, both from his content and the anecdotes she’d heard from George, Chris, and Arthur Hill. What she didn’t know was that Arthur was also very interested in meeting her, loving her content after being shown it by George and Chris on separate occasions. “You’d love her” they’d say.

When y/n and Becky pose for their team introduction in the video, y/n feels a little shy with the eyes and cameras on her in the open public, but she mentally prepared for this beforehand and perseveres. Becky has her arms folded, whereas y/n is holding some prop envelopes up whilst smiling at the camera. “That’s perfect!” Chris giggles. Stepping out of shot ready for Cal’s referee posing, y/n locks eyes with Arthur after feeling him looking, and almost immediately, Arthur diverts his gaze, embarrassed.

Chip and Arthur step in frame for their clip, Arthur’s eyes kept finding their way to y/n, which she swears she can see in the corner of her view while she chats with Becky. Y/n and Becky then turn to watch the boys, and y/n meets Arthur’s gaze again and this time, she gives him a small smile before he can look away. His eyebrows slightly raise for a brief moment before he grins back, his sweet eyes squinting. “Ready mate?” Chip suddenly asks him, snapping Arthur out of his short daze. They pose, Arthur softly smiling to the camera whilst Chip pants with his hands up T-Rex style, making Arthur laugh and shake his head. All of this gets caught in their slow-mo introduction footage, making it both charming and funny.

Arthur looks to y/n again, still chuckling, and was delighted to see that she too was laughing at Chip’s antics. ‘Good to know we have a similar sense of humour’, he thinks to himself.

“He fancies you I recon,” Becky whispers to y/n, giving her a smirk and a slight elbow nudge. Y/n turns to Becky, eyes widening.

“What- Who?” she replies. Although she knows who Becky meant, she is just baffled to hear it. Before Becky could repeat herself, Arthur and Chip join them, as George and Chris step up for their shot. Arthur steps next to y/n. Y/n scoffs at the ‘Gherkings’ as they both flex at the camera, finding their pose choice amusing despite their outfits. “Those divvies,” Arthur chuckles, adding to y/n’s amusement as he leans more towards her. She giggles and adds “Should’ve called themselves prick-les,” her comment eliciting a hearty laugh from Arthur. His elbow brushes against her upper arm as he leans back, catching her off guard as she realises how close they’re standing.

She feels her heart race as she smiles to the ground awkwardly, Arthur also looks down and takes a small step back, feeling his cheeks burn. Becky gives y/n another small nudge with her elbow as she lowly lets out an “Oi oi.”

“Guys,” Chris calls out, catching everyone’s attention, “we just have to do the one-to-one questions and then we’re ready to start!”

Chris is up first as the cameraman asks how drunk he’ll get. He gives his usual answer of saying he’ll be plastered. George is next, then Chip, then Arthur.

“Well, if we’re talking dog years, I’ll be drunk seven times sooner. Or later?” Arthur answers, giving a cheeky chuckle at the camera. Y/n overhears and smiles at his cute joke. She already thought he was cute in his videos, but seeing his behaviour in person just solidifies it.

Becky’s up next, saying she’ll smash it and proudly states that she’s a girl who can handle her drink. Y/n, not so much, realising what she’s got herself into as she steps up into shot. “How do you think you’ll fare today?” the cameraman asks.

“I’m a lightweight,” she starts, “but I’ll promise to deliver-“ then awkwardly laughs at her lame joke, hiding her face behind her prop envelope and shaking her head with embarrassment.

“Oh y/n!” Becky shouts, laughing herself, “And this is you sober, we’re screwed!” Y/n joins her teammate, whispering an awkward apology for what she just witnessed. Arthur on the other hand, finds her joke adorable. Becky puts an arm round her, about to say some reassurance before Chris calls to the group.

“Right, that’s all done,” he shouts, clasping his hands together, looking to the camera that just filmed their mini interviews, “let’s all head to the first pub.” The rest of the crew all grab their cameras and start recording as the group starts walking.

The pairs talk amongst themselves for a bit, mostly small talk while the camera crew get shots of them walking. Chris talks to one camera with George up ahead, leaving the Fe-Mails and Bone Appetite to gather together behind.

“So y/n,” Chip starts, “is this your first pub golf video?”

“Yeah it is,” y/n replies smiling, “this is my first collab out in the public too, and with this many people.” Chip and Arthur both nod. The camera man puts the camera on them, catching the conversation that follows.

“She’s a lightweight as well,” Becky chimes in, eliciting an ‘uh-oh’ from Chip. “She got tipsy on our video together and she barely drank!” Becky continues as the others chuckle.

“I remember seeing that!” Arthur adds with enthusiasm, looking to y/n as he walks his way closer to her. “I’m sorry but you’re not surviving today!”

The cameraman moves to Cal, who’s walking at the back to make sure no one falls over already or insults the crew, either action earning them a shot or a point for their team.

Knowing she’s off camera, Becky gently clasps her hand over the mic attached to her shirt collar and leans to y/n’s ear. “He definitely fancies you, Arthur does. I can tell,” she whispers with a grin. Y/n just shakes her head with a shy smile.

Chip and Arthur look behind to the girls whispering, then to each other, shrugging with confused smiles. They walk slightly further ahead and Chip looks over his shoulder at them. “The chemistry is mad already bro,” he quietly says to Arthur. Arthur looks at him and furrows his eyes in confusion.

“Those two?” he questions, leaning his head towards Chip to hear him better.

“No bro, you and y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.” He clarifies, giving Arthur a tap on his shoulder.

Before Arthur can attempt to protest, they reach the first pub. Taking seats outside, the teams sit opposite each other and Cal grabs himself a seat at the end of the table. On one side of the table is George, Arthur, and Becky; the other side dons Chris, Chip, and y/n. Y/n and Arthur are both silently thankful to not be sat together at first, as neither creator wants the other to feel any rising heat, especially after the conversations they both just had. Unfortunately for both of them, they realise they are right in each other’s line of sight, and the cameras might pick up on any awkward exchanged glances.

The pints are brought to the table by a couple of crew members, with one pint placed in front of each participant. “Right, the rules for the first game are simple,” Cal bellows to the camera facing him, “Each player must down as much of their pint as possible within 10 seconds. The pair with the most beer drank gets 1 point, the next team gets two points, and the slowest drinkers earn 3 points.” The cameramen capture shots of the creators listening to the rules and close-up shots of the beers. Cal continues: “If a player spills any drink, fall over, or pukes, they earn either an additional point or can instead take a shot as a forfeit.”

The girls go first, Becky downing her drink almost perfectly. She leaves a little foam at the bottom, and Chip and Arthur try arguing that the drink is incomplete, but Cal allows it to count as an empty drink. Y/n wraps her hand around her glass, looking to Becky as she says “I’m so sorry,” with a sheepish smile before gulping as much as she can, leaving the pint glass with about a third of beer left when her 10 seconds are up. She sets her glass down and wipes her lips, frowning and shaking her head at the bitter flavour.

“We’ve got this in the bag bro!” Arthur chuckles as he smirks to Chip, giving him a hi-five.

“Yeah, you’re shit y/n!” Chip joins in, causing the table to laugh at his sudden unnecessary comment.

“Woah, manners Chip!” George retorts.

“Rude!” Becky shouts, feigning an offended face to Chip.

“No offence y/n!” Arthur adds with a cheeky grin, locking eyes with her. She secretly adores hearing him say her name.

“None taken Arthur,” she returns with a big smile, Arthur feeling his face burn, also loving the way his name rolls off her tongue.

The dogs are next up to play. Arthur goes first, using his two handed grip and only just downing the pint in one within the time limit, leaving no foam behind. Chip hi-fives him again, shouting “Yes brother!” Arthur proudly beams, looking down at his lap before his eyes quickly dart up to y/n, seeing she’s smiling whilst still looking at his completely empty pint glass. “Here we go, bone appetite!” Chip declares as he downs his drink, leaving just a small amount at the bottom of the glass.

“Well we’ve lost then!” Becky laughs, faking anger and slamming her hands in the table. Y/n is about to protest before realising George’s turn is next and he’s a drinking machine. George confidently grasps his drink. “Ah we’re cooked!” Chip murmurs to Arthur. George effortlessly gulps his drink down with 3 seconds to spare, cockily exhaling as he slams his glass down.

Chris is up next, gesturing a cheers towards George before downing his pint. “Look at the way he grips that thaing!” Arthur calls out in a slight accent, causing Chris to jerk his head forward to giggle and spill a couple of drops of beer onto the table. “Oh! Spillage!” Arthur shouts gleefully as he points at the new stains. Cal looks to Chris with his mouth open and the camera zooms in on the table. Chip and y/n are laughing as Becky shouts “Waaay!”. Both Chris and George argue with Cal that it’s unfair for them to get penalised as Arthur made him laugh. Cal coldly looks to them both and states “Spill’s a spill Chris, do you want to take a shot or a pint.”

Chris rolls his eyes and asks for a shot. Amongst the spilling drama, Chris didn’t finish his pint, leaving it half empty and starting off the scores as:

Bone Appetite: 1 point

The Fe-Mails: 2 points

Gherkings: 3 points

As the group head off to the next pub, Arthur jogs his way up to y/n. “I’m sorry for my comment before,” he starts, smiling at the floor sheepishly, “when you finished your drink.”

“Oh that’s okay, I didn’t take offence to either of you, don’t worry!” Y/n replies, giggling quietly at his sweet apology.

“OK, good!” Arthur chuckles, feeling relieved, “I have a habit of dishing out insults when I…” he stops himself for a second, “get to know someone.” he ends, thinking on his feet.

Y/n shrugs, trying to look nonchalant, “I enjoy the banter, I’m the same.” She replies.

Arthur beams as he looks to his crush. “I see, what else do you enjoy?” They start exchanging interests, followed by facts about science, animals, anything really as they continue leading the group towards their next destination.

Behind them, Chip and Becky walk with George. “Bro’s in love” Chip says as he gestures ahead, a little too loud, but the pair at the front are in their own world and don’t hear. Becky and George agree, giggling. “I think she feels the same way,” Becky replies with a genuine smile.

Behind the trio, Cal and Chris are being filmed from behind while they talk, the angle capturing all the players in one frame.

Chip jogs forward to join Arthur and y/n. “What are you two nerds yappin’ about?” he asks them as he wraps an arm round Arthur’s shoulder.

“Nerds?!” Arthur fake cries.

Simultaneously, y/n replies with “Space,” with a grin. A crew member joins to record them, walking backwards ahead of them, capturing the three in frame.

“Nice. Y/n, you feelin’ lightheaded yet?” Chip directs towards her, leaning forwards to look past Arthur. Arthur turns his head to her too, intrigued.

“Honestly, a little,” y/n replies.

“REALLY?” Arthur exclaims. His eyes widely looking down at her, his lips curled up a little. “Goodness, you really are a lightweight!”

Y/n laughs, “Yeah, it’s bad isn’t it. I feel bad for Becky really!”

“‘Least we’re guaranteed second place ey bro?” Chip says, tightening his grip round Arthur’s shoulder.

“You’re not wrong there!” Arthur chuckles

“You boys are mean!” Y/n retorts playfully.

The group reaches the second pub. Outside there are only tables of four. Y/n and Becky sit opposite each other first. Arthur and Chip join them. This time, Arthur bravely sits beside y/n, their arms touching. Y/n looks at their arms, observing the closeness. She begins feeling wary of the cameras and doesn’t want to come across as having a schoolgirl crush (which wouldn’t be wrong). As the others take their seats and chat, Arthur notices y/n’s slight change in demeanour and bumps her gently with his arm. “You okay?” he whispers as he leans his face towards hers, hoping his quiet words reach her ear and no one else’s.

She thinks fast, “I’m all good thanks, just dreading what we’ll be put through next,” she awkwardly giggles, turning her head to look at him only to almost brush noses. She didn’t initially realise how close his face was when he whispered just before. They both go wide eyed and lean away from each other, Arthur clearing his throat and sheepishly apologising, looking to his lap with a small smile. “You’re all good” y/n quietly giggles in response, looking down too, to avoid any risk of someone seeing her definitely reddening cheeks.

“So, in this round, each team member has to feed the drink to their teammate.” The pairs glare at each other, y/n and Becky giving each other a nod. Cal continues: “One player must stand with their hands on their hips, as their teammate stands behind them, with their arms through the player’s arms,” he manhandles Chris for demonstration. Turning Chris around and forcing his hands on his hips, Cal then loops his hands through as if his arms are now Chris’s and mimes holding a drink up to Chris’s lips. This earns nods amongst the other players, followed by ‘oh’s. “They then switch,” Cal explains further, “And the team with the lowest collective time it takes to finish their drinks, gains the least amount of points.”

George and Chris go first. “Here we go, turn around darling” George smirks to Chris as he spins him by his hips. Chris giggles high pitched, flapping his arms in a fake shy manner, causing the others to laugh. They do a terrible job, Chris keeps pulling his head away from the pint glass to tell George off for pouring too fast. “Shut up and take it!” George kept replying, giving the female viewers more treats with his choice of wording. It takes them just under a minute for Chris to finish his drink.

They switch, George offering Chris a hand. When Chris looks to him confused, George says: “I thought you’d want help climbing onto the bench so you can reach around me properly.” The group chuckle, including Chris as he rolls his eyes. They do better this way around, but mostly due to George’s drinking skills.

The other teams watch on from their table. Arthur leaning past y/n slightly so he can get a good view. She can feel his breath slightly fanning on the back of her ear, but team Gherking’s entertaining performance is distracting enough for her to not get too flustered. Chip gives Becky a subtle “Oop” and when she turns back to look at him, he gestures his head towards y/n and Arthur. From their angle, the pair are sat so close. Arthur’s elbow is resting on the table, his hand sat next to y/n’s side. His upper body is twisted toward her, his chest slightly pressed to her right shoulder. Any public onlookers would assume they’re a couple. Becky looks back to Chip and rolls her eyes with a beaming smile. Their chemistry already was undeniable, although a bit of liquid confidence may be part of the reason.

Arthur and Chip are next, stepping into shot. Chip stands behind Arthur as Cal passes a pint to him. “Uh Chip, what’s that in your pocket?” Arthur jokingly asks.

“You don’t wanna know bro” Chip replies. They do a fantastic job, Chip very gently tilting the pint more and more as Arthur gulps. Already he drinks the pint twice as fast as George and Chris’s first go. They switch places.

“What’s that massive thing poking my ass?” Chip shouts, turning to y/n and giving her a subtle wink with a smirk, being careful to not get caught by any of the cameras.

“Oh my word!” Arthur calls out in shock, followed by a chuckle as he shakes his head. Y/n laughs as she leans her head down into her arms resting on the table. She’s terrified of the cameras picking up any possible redness in her face. The pair do a great job again, their tactic was slow and steady after watching George rush Chris. They did miles better.

It’s the girls’ turn, Becky taking position behind y/n first. “Give us a hum or something if I’m pouring too fast hun,” Becky instructs in her ear. Y/n nods with a determined grin. Arthur looks on at y/n’s physique, as he hadn’t been able to look before. She carries herself confidently yet she’s humble, something he finds so attractive. The pair do an amazing job and then switch places. “Y/n your ass is very soft and squishy!” Becky exclaims, patting her on the back for finishing the pint quite fast.

“This old thing?” Y/n jokingly replies, looking back to Becky and sticks her butt out slightly towards her. The drinks may be going to her head already. They both laugh as y/n giggles out an apology as Becky shakes her head. “Oh my…” Arthur quietly says to himself as he turns to Chip, being sure not to allow himself to stare, instead he locks eyes with his smirking teammate.

Y/n stands behind Becky and takes the pint from Cal. Y/n leans forward, her head just above Becky’s shoulder so she can watch Becky’s face and pour based on her expression. “Looks like she’s pouring based on Becky’s swallows, good tactic!” Cal calls out. Arthur watches on, taking into account y/n’s care to Becky. Chip leans over the table. “She’s clever and caring bro, wife her up!” Chip whispers. Arthur exhales a laugh through his nose at Chips words, he slightly shakes his head but doesn’t take his eyes off y/n.

The Fe-Mails finish the fastest, against all odds. Chris blames George for pouring too fast and George retorts by saying Chris whined too much. The scores now as follows:

Bone Apetit: 3 points

The Fe-Mails: 3 points

Gherkings: 6 points

The next pub isn’t too far away, about a four minute walk. Chris runs up ahead of George, Arthur, and Chip to reach y/n who is walking alongside Becky and Cal. “So y/n, how are you finding pub golf so far?” he asks, with a camerman walking alongside them.

“I’m really enjoying it so far thanks,“ she starts, “it’s been really fun and everyone’s so nice.”

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met some of the guys before. Cal, Arthur, and Chip right? Alongside the crew?” Chris replies.

“Oop, Chris just said your name” Chip teases Arthur quietly. Arthur looks up ahead of him to see Chris and y/n talking in front of a camera while walking. “You two are really getting on aren’t you, you and y/n?” he adds, patting Arthur on the back.

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” he smiles as he whispers, “She’s just like she is in her videos, not that I thought she wouldn’t be or anything.”

“Yeah, I’d been watching her stuff for a while and before even meeting her, I thought that you guys should meet,” George chimes in, joining Arthur’s other side. “You’re both awkward and nerdy and funny, two peas in a pod really.”

“Really?” Arthur enquires, quite loud, and the boys shush him as y/n and Chris are only a couple of metres ahead and could’ve heard.

They arrive at the third pub already, but there were no seats outside available, so they all squeeze into a round booth inside, with Cal in the middle. From left to right is Becky, Chris, Chip, Cal, George, Arthur, and y/n.

A tray full of shots gets placed on the round table. Cal explains to the camera that this round is an alphabet game where starting with Arthur, they’ll take turns clockwise naming something within a category, from A-Z. Whoever hesitates or says a word starting with the wrong letter, they need to drink a shot. A shot in this game earns a point for the team. The first round is dog breeds, matching Chip and Arthur’s costumes. It goes as follows:

Arthur: “Alsatian”

Y/n: “Bulldog”

Becky: “Chihuahua”

Chris: “Uhh… Dalmatian!”

Chip: “Errr…”

“Hesitation!” Chris and Cal both shout. Chip puts his head in his hands and groans. He picks up a shot and shouts “I can’t think of any dogs starti’ with E!”

“English bull terrier!” Arthur calls, gesturing fake-angrily, “It’s OUR theme!”

“Aw man!” Chip replies as he downs his shot. Arthur chuckles, turning to look at y/n who’s also enjoying the antics. Arthur doesn’t notice at first, but his leg is pressed against y/n’s, mostly due to George manspreading.

George turns to Arthur, “That’s handy, I couldn’t think of a dog beginning with F either,” he chuckled, shrugging.

“A Frenchie?” Y/n replied, leaning forward past Arthur.

“Yeah, a French bulldog, y/n literally said ‘bulldog’ and basically gave that to you!” Arthur laughs, as he nudges y/n.

Round two is fruit and vegetables, based on team Gherkings. Starting with Chip, the game begins:

Chip: “Avocado! Yes!”

George: “B…Banana”

Arthur: “Cantaloupe”

Y/n: “Dragon fr-“

“Brother that’s an animal!” Chip interrupts, pointing at Arthur.

“Cantaloupe?” George asks with both surprise and a smirk as the group laughs.

“You’re thinking of an antelope!” Arthur calls back.

“You’re on the same team!” Chris chortles.

“Y/n, hesitation!” Cal exclaims.

Y/n’s jaw drops, Arthur looks to her in surprise.

“That’s not fair!” Y/n retorts.

“Yeah, she started talking but Chip interrupted” Becky adds.

“To be fair, she said ‘dragon fruit’, I heard her.” Arthur claims, matter of factly as he leans back and puts a hand on y/n’s shoulder, giving it a pat.

“I didn’t hear her, did anyone else hear her besides Arthur?” Cal asks the group.

“I didn’t.” George answers, smugly, shooting a grin towards y/n.

“I did!” Becky adds.

“Well that’s bollocks,” Chris states as he crosses his arms, “if George didn’t hear it, you’re not gonna hear it from all the way over there!”

“George is lying!” “Because George is lying” y/n and Arthur exclaim at the same time.

George sarcastically presses a hand to his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

“That settles it, y/n hesitated.” Cal finalises, smacking the table like a judge with a gavel. George picks up a shot and hands it to y/n “Drink up,” he grins. She takes the shot from him as she narrows her eyes at him.

“Fine, but this means war.” she jokingly murmurs before taking the shot, disgusted by the aftertaste.

“Well done,” Arthur says, leaning back to touch her shoulder again, giving it a squeeze as he grins at her.

The third round is items you’d find in a post office. “Chip, as you interrupted y/n last round, you can start.” Cal states.

Chips stutters, “A…analytics, like sheets of analytics and data and stuff!”

“Absolutely not.” Chris says.

“Boxes!” George shouts, not taking any chances.

“I’m sorry, no.” Chris continues.

“Chris, if you continue interrupting and time wasting, you’ll need to take a shot.” Cal states. The game continues:

Arthur: “Calendar”

Y/n: “Desk!”

Becky: “Eeeeenvelopes”

Chris: “Ummm… F…”

“Hesitation!” Cal shouts, slamming the table again as the others join in shouting.

“Uh, fine!” Chris groans as he downs a shot, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head. “Bloody awful.”

“So, each team has one point each?” George questions, “Well that game was fucking pointless then!”

Cal nods, pretending to be deeply disappointed in everyone. “I was worried this would happen,” he starts, “So we have one more round!”

The cameras whip around everyone as ‘ooh’s echo throughout. The final round was for countries. “Chris, you start.”

Chris: “Argentina”

Chip: “Belgium“

George: “China”

Arthur: “Denmark”

Y/n: “England”

Becky: “… France”

Chris: “Germany”

Chip: “Hhhhhungary!”

George (laughing): “Iceland”

Arthur: “Japan”

Y/n: “Um… Kazakhstan”

Becky: “L…ondon!”

“No!” Y/n cries out, belly laughing as she puts her head in her hands. Arthur laughs along with her and pats her on the back.

“I’m sorry, I panicked!” Becky calls out, immediately grabbing a shot and drinking as Cal shouts: “Incorrect!”

“‘London’” Chris quietly says to himself as he chuckles.

“Don’t worry Becks, I thought London too,” Chip leans forward, calling to Becky who had her head on the table.

The scores at the end of this game are:

Bone Appetite: 4

The Fe-Mails: 5

Gherkings: 7

As the group stand up from the booth, the drinks are starting to get to the group’s heads. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Becky shouts, wobbling as she carefully steps out of the booth, Chris getting up behind her with his arms outreached ready to catch her if she falls. Y/n gets up and stumbles slightly, catching herself on the table. Arthur smiles and reaches out to her at the same time. “Woah, careful there!” he chuckles.

Heading to the next pub, Chip loses his footing off the curb, his ankle buckling as he drops to the floor. He’s totally fine and just lays there laughing as Becky and Chris immediately head over to help him up, also cackling. “Oop! Was that a fall there Chip?” Cal questions, pointing at the obviously collapsed man on the floor.

“No…” Chip replies as he’s pulled to his feet.

“Do you want a point for the team or a shot at the next pub?” Cal asks.

“Point. No, shot!” Chip shouts.

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to go for your first answer,” Cal states, “One extra point to Bone Appetite!” Arthur shakes his head with a small snigger as he walks beside Cal, a camera pointing at them both.

George is walking alongside y/n, at the front of the group. “Having a good time?” He asks. A little tipsy, she giggles.

“I really am, thanks for getting me on here.” She beams. George grins back.

“I’m glad. And I must say, you’ve made an astonishing first impression.” He states.

“Really?”

“Yep, I’ve seen the crew laugh at some of your jokes. Chip thinks you’re proper nice, and don’t get me started on Arthur.” George elaborates.

Y/n looks to George shyly, “What d’you mean?”

“What’s that?” Arthur asks as he darts ahead to join George and y/n, walking on the other side of her.

“Nothing bad Television, I was just telling y/n what a good impression she’s made already today with her pub golf debut.” George calmly explains. Arthur nods, looking to y/n with a sweet smile.

“You really have!” He adds, his beam so wide his eyes close. “You’ll definitely be asked to join again. If not by Chris, which would make him an idiot, but by the viewers.”

Y/n gets bashful. “Aw, thanks!” She replies.

“And I certainly want you to join again,” Arthur continues, looking y/n in the eyes with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, because you’re terrible and give us a good boost.” George adds, sporting a childish smirk before then drifting back to join the others behind them.

“He’s such an idiot sometimes, ignore him.” Arthur whispers, “His team’s losing anyway.”

Reaching the fourth pub, more shots were purchased for the players. They stand around a circular table outside as Cal announces the rules: Each player must down their shot, with their hands behind their back and only using their mouth to lift the glass. Any spills, leftover drink, or using hands earns the player’s team a point.

Chris goes first and accidentally leaves a little drink at the bottom. Chip and Arthur scream for Cal to penalise him while George squeezes his nose bridge in half-joking frustration. Cal gives team Gherkings a point for not finishing the shot. Becky’s next and completes her shot with ease. “Piece of piss!” She gloats while pointing at the camera. Chip’s next and being giggly and tipsy, he giggles mid-drink and spits the glass out. The drink spills everywhere and the shot glass bounces off the table and shatters on the floor. Arthur clasps his hands to his head, “What are you doing?” He exclaims.

“That’s two points for Bone Appetite, not just for spilling but for breaking a glass!” Cal calls. Arthur playfully shakes Chip by the shoulders with gritted teeth. Chip just giggles. Becky pumps a fist in the air and hi-fives y/n, as they both realise they’re in first place now.

George takes his shot just fine, followed by Arthur. Y/n watches Arthur’s lips around the glass, feeling a little flustered as he furrows his eyebrows in concentration. Arthur drinks his shot just fine too. Y/n’s last and also has the giggles, nervous she’ll make the same mistake as Chip. “Calm yourself babes, focus!” Becky cheers on. Y/n clasps her hands behind her lower back and leans forward, gripping the shot glass with her lips. George looks to Arthur, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, luckily both are out of view of the cameras. Arthur clears his throat awkwardly and locks eyes with George. “Oh grow up” Arthur quietly murmurs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile. Although he can’t deny, he’s starting to break a sweat.

Y/n lifts the glass and tilts her head back fine, but Chip then makes a fake orgasm moan which causes her to laugh. Unlike Chip however, she leans forward and the drink lands back in the shot glass, and she places it back on the table with her mouth. “What the hell Chip?” She calls out, chortling as she stood straight again.

“One point to the Fe-Mails!” Cal declares.

With that round over, the scores are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Appetite: 7

Gherkings: 8

Heads are starting to spin from the last few shots, and it shows in all the players now. Chris in particular is struggling, groaning as he walks along with the group on the way to the penultimate pub. “Chris, if you chunder you get a point for each spew!” Cal calls to him from the back of the group.

“Fuck off, we’re losing anyway!” Chris shouts back.

“Only by one point, you idiot!” George snaps at his suffering teammate. Cal looks to the camera with fake outrage.

“Did he just disrespect the ref?”, the cameraman made the camera nod. He turns back to the group and puts a hand either side of his mouth. “One point to team Gherkings for disrespecting the ref!”

The girls are also struggling, clinging onto each other as y/n’s steps in particular become gradually more wobbled as they waddle alongside George. Arthur chuckles from behind them. “Wow, you really ARE bad at this y/n!” he calls. She’s too busy concentrating on not falling over to fight back with a witty comment and just giggles.

Reaching the fifth pub, they realise there are no chairs available inside or out, so the crew go to the bar to grab the drinks while the players head back out the pub entrance and all stand on the street. Cal hands Becky and y/n a pint each. “Try not to spew this one back in the glass this time y/n!” Arthur sniggers, his liquid courage getting to him. Becky gives him a middle finger and Chip chuckles.

“Don’t start with me Arthur or I’ll spew on you!” Y/n retorts, not her best comeback but she’s beyond tipsy at this point.

“He’d probably like that,” George whispers under his breath, making Chris cackle.

This round is pretty simple, one teammate needs to feed the other as much of a pint as possible within 10 seconds. If any teammate finishes the pint before the 10 seconds, the team gets one point deducted from their score. Becky and y/n go first, Becky doing the pouring for y/n. “Just squeeze my shoulder if you want me to slow down yeah?” Becky explains, “I’ve seen the others do it before.”

Y/n nods, putting her arm around Becky and resting on her shoulder. “I’ve seen it too, good plan.” She replies. Remarkably, y/n manages almost all the pint, following Becky’s suggestion. The boys cheer her as it’s the best performance y/n has done so far. They swap places and Becky puts her arm around y/n. Watching on from the side, chip slaps Arthur’s back. “Bet you’d love to put your arm around y/n like that wouldn’t you?” He whispers. George, standing the other side chimes in, making quiet kissy noises. Arthur presses his hand to his brow bone and giggles to himself. “You guys are too much, seriously.”

“Honestly mate, she seems into you, she’d probably let you.” Chris adds, standing in front of the boys but hearing everything. He turns to look at Arthur, so he can see Chris is being genuine.

“I don’t know her that well, but for the time I’ve known her, she hasn’t radiated this much with anyone as she’s done with you.” George adds, also using a legitimate tone. Patting Arthur on the back.

Y/n tips the glass for Becky, the whole time watching her face and paying close attention to the hand on her shoulder. “Yes Becky” she quietly chants throughout the 10 seconds, but sadly Becky also doesn’t finish the whole pint in time. Next up are Bone Appetite, Chip deeply suffering as he barely downs half the pint before stopping and trying not to vomit. The boys shouting their fair shares of ‘uh oh’s, trying to make Chip feel worse. Chip doubles over and braces himself. Arthur stands beside him, “Seriously, you alright mate?” He asks calmly.

Chris stands beside y/n, a crew member filming them both. “I thought you’d be the first to go y/n,” he chuckles. Looking back over as the onesie wearers are both leaning against the wall. Y/n giggles, watching Arthur be a supportive friend and melting a little internally.

“Same here honestly” she replies, eliciting a laugh from Chris. Arthur and Chip step back into shot. Arthur pats his back lightly as Chip nods, confirming he’s okay to continue.

Chip begins pouring the drink into Arthur’s mouth. Y/n watching on as Arthur confidently gestures up with his spare arm so Chip can pour faster. Arthur remarkably finishes the pint, reducing their team’s point by one. The other players applaud, y/n is impressed, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “You’re drooling” George whispers as he leans into her and winks, he and Chris making their way in front of the camera for their turn. Arthur and Chip cross them, Chip heading inside because he needs a ‘massive slash’ and Arthur joining y/n.

Y/n is stood leaning against the wall as Arthur stands beside her, his arm reached out and hand behind her, pressed against the wall. Shuffling her feet as she watches the Gherkings have their turn, she steps back slightly and the back of her neck meets Arthur’s arm. “Oh, sorry,” she awkwardly whispers to him, letting out a small giggle. Arthur tuts with a faint smile.

“Don’t be silly!” He whispers as he moves his lips closer to her ear, reaching his hand round to squeeze her shoulder a little, before returning it back to the wall. He catches her smiling to herself as he returns his gaze back to George and Chris, and he can’t stop himself from beaming either.

George pouring into Chris’s mouth didn’t go well, only managing half the pint. When they swap however, George also manages to finish his pint. They lose a point for their team, the Fe-Mails being the only team whose score stays the same. The scores at the end of this round are:

The Fe-Mails: 6

Bone Apetit: 6

Gherkings: 7

The gang head off to the last pub, wobblier than ever. Chris and Arthur are busy keeping Chip afloat, neither of them holding themselves too well either. George has his arms around Becky and y/n, he himself being the most sober of the players. “Look at George, Arthur, and Chris. Chivalrous as ever.” Cal says to the camera with a grin. They all pile into the pub, situating at a six-seater table. Cal pulls up a stool at the end again. Chris, Arthur, and Chip head down one side of the table and Becky, y/n, and George move down the other. Y/n sits opposite Arthur, but luckily she’s already flushed from the drinks.

“Okay guys, it’s the final game of the night!” Cal begins as the cameras focus on the table. He explains the rules: each team has a cocktail pitcher that they have to pour into their glasses and drink until the pitcher is empty. Fastest drinking team wins.

Bone Appetite go first, Arthur drinking more than Chip, but they manage to finish the pitcher in under a minute. Next is Becky and y/n. Y/n sniffs the pitcher and shudders. “I don’t think I’ll keep this stuff down Becky” she chuckles, embarrassed.

“Aw, you’ll be alright, I can take more drink if you want!” Becky replies, to which y/n nods. The boys look on with excitement, The Fe-Mails essentially one man down, all except Arthur. Despite wearing a smile to fit the others, deep down he can’t help but worry for y/n, not wanting her to spew on camera in her first ChrisMD video appearance. However, Becky sticks to her promise and takes the heavier load and they complete their turn, although slightly slower than Bone Appetite. Y/n pauses for a moment, a clenched fist held to her mouth. The gang stop to watch her, making sure she doesn’t spew but after a few seconds, she composes herself. “Phew, I’m fine!” She smiles. Becky and the boys relax.

Although it doesn’t seem like Chris is holding up too well either, as George drags their pitcher to rest in between them. “Chin up dearest,” George starts, “we got a game to win.”

Chris lets out a low burp into his hand, groaning out an “Oh god” that’s barely audible. Arthur excitedly looks to Chip, then to Becky and y/n, his eyes wide and lips pursed in an ‘ooh’ shape.

They start, but George quickly takes the lead as Chris struggles. As soon as he finishes his glass, Chris makes a dash from the table, leaving George and the rest to watch on in shock. “I won’t give him a point for vomiting just yet.” Cal chuckles. George turns his attention back to the pitcher, well aware that that they’re still against the clock, and pours himself a glass to continue. Remarkably, he finishes the entire pitcher’s worth and catches up to the girls’ time but wasn’t able to beat Chip and Arthur.

With the final game over, George excuses himself to check on his teammate, and the others talk amongst themselves. As Arthur talks with Chip, he gestures his hand a little too fast, knocking a glass of half melted ice over, the cold water spilling across the table, and dripping onto y/n’s lap. “Oh no!” He cries, eyes wide open as he clasps his hands to his mouth in horror. Y/n yelps at the sudden coldness but soon laughs it off.

“Spillage!” Becky shouts, pointing from the table to y/n while staring directly at Cal.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Shit.” Arthur mumbles, “Let me get you some napkins!” He gets up and rushes away.

“Surely that doesn’t count as a spillage, the drink was all drink up- drunk up,” Chip tries reasoning with Cal.

“Nope, still a spill. A drink was spilled Chip!” Cal quips back in an authoritative but jokey tone. “One point to Bone Appetite!”

Arthur reappears at the table, retaking his seat and passing y/n a scrunched up bundle of napkins as she stands up ready to wipe herself.

“Thank you, good boy!” She giggles as she half-drunkenly leans over pats Arthur on the head, then proceeding to dab her trousers. Arthur looks super surprised at first, as Chip and Becky chortle, before breaking out into laughter himself.

“Brother I’m sorry, you got us a point but your face just then was so worth it!” Chip chuckles. Y/n sits back down, using the remainder of the napkins to dry the table. Arthur feeling all too aware that he may be blushing after being called a ‘good boy’ by the hottest girl he’s ever met, turns his head away from the table, nonchalantly saying “Where are the pickle boys?” to avoid the cameras picking up on any redness in his face. Luckily for him, they both appear from round the corner and return to the table. Sitting down and tucking their chairs in, Chris looks to Cal and bluntly says “Yeah, I threw up” with sheepish look, then he looks to the camera and sighs. George pretends to smell Chris’s bad breath and wafts his hand, then chuckles.

“One point to team Gherkings!” Cal starts, “And with that, the final scores are…” the players begin to smack their hands on the table for a drum roll. “In third place with 11 points is team Gherkings!” the other two teams clap as Chris put his hand to his chest and makes a faint bow. George puts his head down, smirking and gesturing at a very pale Chris, murmuring an “Obviously.”

“And now for first place… it’s a tie between Bone Appetite and The Fe-Mails!” Cal finishes. The table exchange a few ‘oohs’. “I thought this may happen,” Cal continues, “Therefore we have a tie breaker to determine first and second place!”

All of a sudden, two crew members approach the table with four baby Guinnesses, placing one in front of each of the tied team members.

“Oh god, I can’t drink anymore.” Chip whines, eliciting a low laugh from the table.

“I’m not sure if I can either.” Becky adds.

“Each team member will drink their baby Guinness, the faster of both teams will then compete in an arm wrestle.” Cal explains.

“Okay.” Y/n says to herself, determined, her hand ready on her small glass. She had assumed her team would’ve come last because of her, so beating George gave her some encouragement.

“Three-two-one-go!” Cal suddenly shouts very fast, hoping to throw them all off.

Chip doesn’t even move, he remains staring at his baby Guinness in defeat with his hands on his lap.

“Oh, fuck!” Becky calls out, quickly reaching for her drink and downing it. However y/n and Arthur had already finished theirs within just over a second.

Cal claps his hands together and declares: “Arthur and y/n win the race! Get ready to arm wrestle.” They lock eyes and reposition themselves ready. Both feeling a little heated from the eye contact, but they know it’ll make for good shots for the video.

“Get him, y/n!” Becky cheers.

“Don’t go easy on her Arthur!” Chip chants, patting Arthur on the back. The pair rest their elbows on the table and clasp hands, immediately feeling electricity from the contact, and hoping the spark isn’t visible on camera.

“You’re toe-ing… you’re going to do a Fe-FAIL!” Arthur stammers, the baby Guinness going straight to his head. The players laugh, including himself. Y/n cackles with her head down. Arthur squeezes her hand slightly to bring her attention back to the game. She lifts her head back up, locking eyes with him again and attempting a deadpan face. “Someone mute this TV, it-“ but she bursts out laughing before finishing her sentence. Arthur lets out a ‘pfft’ laugh, leaning his head back and squinting his eyes together.

“This is painful,” Chris chuckles, rubbing circles into his eyes with his hands.

“Indeed it is,” Cal adds, “Ready? Start on ‘go’.” The pair’s eyes meet again, y/n slightly turns her wrist to make the wrestle harder for Arthur and gives him a small squeeze. Arthur bites his lip and furrows his brows in response, staring at their connected hands. Y/n is seemingly unaware of just how strong Arthur with his sleeper build, although she’d never tell Arthur (or anyone for that matter) that she’s seen a lot of edits where he is shirtless.

“Three, two, one, go!” Cal calls. Immediately y/n seems to have the upper hand for a few seconds, Arthur’s hand mere inches from the table. Chris and Chip cheer Arthur on, telling him to pick up the slack. Meanwhile, George and Becky chant y/n’s name and smack the table in rhythm. Arthur’s face is contorted as he struggles, watching y/n as she stares at their hands. As soon as she glances back at Arthur, he suddenly smirks and slams her hand down on the table. “Oh my god!” Chip calls out, perking up and slamming his fists on the table with excitement.

“Outstanding. Arthur wins the arm wrestle, which means Bone Appetite wins this video’s pub golf with 7 points!” Cal declares gesturing to his right at the champions. Y/n’s still staring at Arthur with a wide mouth and still with her hand pinned down under Arthur’s. One cameraman zooms in to capture Chip and Arthur’s celebratory reaction, as Chip shakes Arthur’s shoulders and cheers until his voice breaks. Only then does Arthur realise he’s still holding y/n’s hand, giving her hand a couple of small squeezes again before letting go and giving Chip a hug.

Y/n smiles and pulls her hand away to applaud the winners with a smile, alongside the other players. Cal then turns to the girls. “And well done to The Fe-Mails, second place with 8 points!” He exclaims before clapping. Y/n and Becky both let out some ‘woop’s before throwing their prop envelopes in the air like confetti. Arthur and Chip then clap for them.

“Aw commiserations ladies” Chip taunts the girls, his clapping slowing but increasing in volume as he sticks out his bottom lip.

“Ah shut up you, you barely did anything!” Becky retorts.

“Yeah,” y/n joins in, pushing his baby Guinness closer to him. He fake gags and presses his head into Arthur’s neck.

“They’re bullying me Arthur!” He cries against him.

“Not gonna lie, you kind of deserved it,” Arthur replies giggling, watching y/n laugh.

The crew head outside to do their final clips, one by one they partake in the same interview they did before the pub golf games started. The question being a slight variation: ‘How did you fare today?’

Chris’s answer validates his answer at the beginning. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he chuckles and bluntly answers: “We did shit.”

George’s answer is a stark contrast against his initial confident response. “I would’ve won if it wasn’t for that hobbit” he jokingly states with his arms crossed, his head gesturing towards his paling teammate.

Chip’s nonchalant ‘we’ll do alright I think’ from before was also very different to his new response: “We fucking smashed it, I knew we would!”

Arthur sticks to his dog theme with his answer. “We had fun and were the winners, in dog years this means we had seven times the fun… and seven times the wins” he exclaims with a big smile.

“I think we did fantastic, we would’ve won if it were me doing the arm wrestle, but we still smashed it!” Becky answers, confident as ever, pumping a fist towards the camera.

Lastly is y/n’s final answer. “I bloody loved it,” she chuckles, “I had the best time with the best people, I… had the best time!”

Chris struggles to get through the outro for the video while the others stand either side of him, smiling. The film crew stop recording and put their kits away, all heading back into the pub to have their own drinks, and the players follow them. Chris and Cal sit at a long table with their crew, whereas George, Chip, Becky, Arthur, and y/n head towards booth beside them. Arthur gestures for y/n to slide into the bench first, and he follows suit. Opposite them slides in Chip and George. “Guys my uber is here!” Becky announces. She says her goodbyes to everyone, calling y/n her partner in crime as y/n leans across the table to give her a hi-five. Arthur looks down to his lap shyly as y/n’s face was dangerously close to his during Becky’s farewell. “Have fun y/n” she says in a suggestive tone, before winking at her and leaving the pub. Y/n giggles to herself and readjusts her position.

“What was that about, why’d she say that like that?” Arthur asks y/n, his head tilted and leans closer towards y/n, narrowing his eyes with intrigue.

“Oh, that’s… nothing, she’s just being silly!” Y/n awkwardly replies, unclipping her mic from her collar to put in her pocket.

“Hmm… yeah…” Arthur murmurs, still looking at her suspiciously, but realising he’s still wearing his mic and removes his too. “I’ll give these back to Chris, do you want a drink? Anyone?” Arthur asks, directing the notion to the whole booth.

“I’ll just have a water please,” y/n answers.

“Me too,” George adds.

“If I drink anything else, I’ll fucking die.” Chip murmurs.

“Okay, three waters, I’ll be right back.” Arthur takes the mic packs and heads to Chris’s table. George leans towards y/n with his elbows on the table and his chin resting in his hands.

“Enjoyed the arm wrestle didn’t we?” He teases. Chip copies George’s pose, also awaiting y/n’s reply.

“Actually my wrist hurts now,” y/n awkwardly replies, rubbing her wrist.

“That’s not what I meant, don’t think I didn’t see you two still holding hands way after the arm wrestle was over!” George replies.

“Really?” Chip remarks, “Guess I was too busy celebrating to notice!”

Y/n eyes widen. “You don’t think the cameras picked up on it do you?” She asks awkwardly, “I’m still dealing with the y/n x Becky accusations!”

Arthur makes his way back to the table, juggling three glasses of water. He offers Chip some of his water, to which Chip declines. They chat away about the day for the next few minutes, Arthur’s arm brushing past y/n’s every so often while talking, and occasionally his leg touches hers too. George being a ‘bro’ to both Arthur and y/n, excuses himself to go to the toilets, subtly gesturing for Chip to leave too. Chip says he wants some fresh air and heads outside, leaving Arthur and y/n alone. The booth suddenly feels more intimate.

Arthur shifts on the bench so he’s facing y/n more, his right arm resting on the back of the bench, his hand by y/n’s head. She turns to face him too, her elbow resting on the table and her head on her hand. “Did you enjoy today?” He asks quietly, struggling to maintain eye contact now they’re alone and off camera. She nods, sitting up straighter but looking at her lap awkwardly.

“It was probably the best video I’ve ever been a part of, including my own” she replies with a giggle.

“Really? That fun, huh?” Arthur responds, now looking at her. She nods again.

“Was there anything in particular, or the whole day as a whole?” He queries.

“The whole day,” y/n beams. Arthur then nods, y/n looks around the pub before feeling brave. “Actually, you definitely made things more fun” She adds. Arthur’s eyes widen as he takes a sip of his water, trying to come up with something to say. Y/n follows suit, although it’s because her mouth has become extremely dry.

“What do you mean?” He questions, studying her face with a flattered grin.

“You just made me feel super comfortable, not that anyone made me UNcomfortable, but yeah. It really helped calm my nerves.” Y/n explains.

“Aw well, I’m so glad to hear that,” Arthur replies, moving his hand from the back of the bench to y/n’s shoulder and giving it a gentle jostle. “I think this was my favourite pub golf, by far,” He continues, “and that was down to you, most definitely.”

There was a cozy silence between the two. Y/n nods gleefully as she takes another sip of her water. As she sets the glass back down, she looks to Arthur to see him studying her face. His smile still visible, although more so in his eyes rather than his lips, as his gaze flutters over her features, pausing at her mouth before darting back up to her eyes. They can feel each other slowly leading in.

“Arthur, y/n,” Chris startles them with a hand tapping on the table, “uh sorry, we’re all heading off now. You coming?” Y/n checks her phone, surprised to see it’s getting late. She didn’t originally know how long these pub golf videos take, and it certainly didn’t feel like it took a whole entire day. Arthur turns back to look at y/n with an inquisitive smile. “We’re gonna head back to theirs to watch a horror movie or something, if you want to join?” He asks.

“Yeah, you can crash if you’re not busy tomorrow too, Arthur’s staying over.” Chris chimes in. Y/n of course, accepts the invitation.

Chip makes his own way home, promising to text once he’s back safe. George, Chris, Arthur, and y/n head into a taxi to travel back to the boys’ flat. Chris sits in front with the driver, chatting away with him. Whereas y/n is sandwiched in the back between Arthur and George. “Come on y/n, put us out of our misery,” George starts, his odd sentence gains him confused glances from y/n and Arthur, “who do you think you’ll be shipped most with by the viewers after this video goes live?” He continues with a cheeky grin.

“Probably Becky again.” Y/n chuckles, replying fast without much thought.

“You and Becky, ey?” George enquires, pretending to think as he looks to the ceiling of the taxi and rubs his chin before adding: “Now there’s an image.”

“Don’t be such a perve!” Arthur scolds half-heartedly. They all share a snigger.

“I recon you two.” Chris chimes in, turning in his chair and gesturing to y/n and Arthur with a genuine smile, though his voice raspy.

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART TWO]

A/n: my first fic! I hope you enjoyed, sorry it was long. I basically wrote out an entire YouTube view lol but I loved writing it nonetheless. I love a good fluffy slow burner, but I also love smut too so watch this space, hehe Part two at the boys’ flat? Also, shall I write a follow-up where y/n and Arthur end up in a pub golf pair after popular demand from the viewers? - Gabby xo

#Arthur tv #arthurtv #arthur tv fluff #arthurtv fluff #arthur tv x reader #Arthurtv x reader #george clarkey #bambino becky #burntchip #ChrisMD #calfreezy

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