they started by arguing about the dishes

The One Who Worries

WWriter - @dammntwilightsaga

Requested - no just one to start off the blog - Send me Requests!!

Warning – pregnant!reader (is that even considered a warning? lmao), Mentions of Paul’s short temper,I don’t know what it feels like to be kicked by a baby so it may or may not be exaggerated (sorry to those who have been pregnant!), pure fluff

Disclaimer - I do not own any of The Twilight Saga’s characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Twilight (I actually watch the scene I use from the movies on youtube or another source to get the dialog right. Although I may switch up who says/does what for purposes of the imagines, I do not own any of it.)

Summary – Paul’s imprint is 7 months pregnant with their first child and when she feels slight discomfort Paul freaks out believing she and their child is in some type of danger

POV - third person; set in New Moon

(Characters’ ages are raised to at least 18)

(Y/H/C) your hair color

(Y/E/C) your eye color

A/N - Request are open :)

Originally posted by leahlahote

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Daryl x Reader - I love you (One shot)

MASTERLIST

3. “Not because I hate you, but because I love you.”

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Prompt taken from  hyenaswritings ‘s list

English is not my first language so, sorry for eventual grammatical errors.

Set on season 2

Warning: fluff, sexual situation, a little bit of angst (just a little, the rest is all love for Daryl ♥

It was supposed to be a drabble but I wrote a oneshot 

Plot: Daryl is upset because he can’t find Sophia and for this reason he distance himself from everybody, even from (Y/n).

It’s been three days since we arrived at the Greene’s farm.

Even if we have to camp outside, in the RV, it’s good to finally stay in a safe place.

However, if our situation got better, something change.

First of all, Sophia got separated from us while we were running away from a horde of walkers.

Everyday all of us went outside, in the forest, looking for her, but without success.

Her disappearance didn’t affect just Carol, but Daryl too.

Me and Daryl were close, he and his brother saved me from a walker at the beginning of the apocalypse, then we grow close when the group left Merle on a roof during a ran. However, after Sophia’s disappearance, he started to change. Every time he came back from the forest, he was angry, he talked back at all of us, including me, and that hurts so much.

Today was no different. I saw Daryl walking to the stable, so I decide to go after him.

“Hey stranger! Where are you going?”
Daryl doesn’t stop and keep walking: “I take an horse and go outside, lookin’ for the little girl”

He sounds annoyed, but I keep talking to him anyway: “Can I come with you? I’m pretty good at riding”

Daryl stops and turns around at me: “Listen, just leave me alone, all of you must leave me alone! Just because I saved your life and open myself to you after what happened to my brother, doesn’t mean that I care about you or that your special. AND NOW LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE”.

I couldn’t believe it.

It’s true thathe just broke my heart, I deeply care about him, but that was enough to make me angry: “You know what? You aren’t the only one that is suffering. Carol is suffering, everybody are suffering because all of us love Sophia! Don’t you think that I suffer just at the thought that she’s alone and scared out there? Just because you’re upset, it doesn’t mean you have to treat everyone like shit! Especially people who deeply care about you:”

I turn around before he could see my tears, and run toward the farm.

—————————————————————————————————-

Today I help Maggie and Patricia with the dishes, both of them could see that I was upset, but I didn’t want to talk about that. I just wash the dishes in silence.

I keep thinking about Daryl and the things he said to me.

Of course I didn’t think that he could feel something for me, but I couldn’t believe that I was nothing to him.

Suddenly there was commotion outside, so I run toward the RV.

“What’s happening?”

Shane and Rick were arguing with Andrea.

Rick turns to me: “There’s a walker there, Andrea wants to shoot him but the shot could draw walkers here”.

In the distance I could see a silhouette, it was stumbling toward us.

Without thinking I take my knife and start running in its direction.

As I get closer to it, that silhouette became clear…it was Daryl!
All of sudden I hear a shot and Daryl fall to the ground.
“No!” I start crying and when I finally reach him I check  where the wound is.

In that moment Rick, Shane and Andrea reach us.

I listen Andrea gasps: “oh god, I thought it was a walker”

Anger rise up in my body, I stand up and grab here by her shoulders:

“ How could you!? Didn’t they tell you not shoot?!” I scream while pointing at Rick and Shane who take Daryl up.

“(Y/n) calm down, it’s just a scrape, we take him to Hershel so he can check him up”. 
Of course Shane would back-up Andrea.

—————————————————————————————————-

I stay with Daryl in his room, he didn’t wake up yet.

I skipped dinner, I was too worried.

Hershel said that the bullet just scrape him, the main problem was the dehydration and the wound on his leg.

Apparently, he fell from the horse.

Suddenly he starts to move and moan: “Where am I?”

I was so happy that without thinking I stood up from the chair and hugged him, forgetting about his state:
“Oh god, you’re okay! I thought I lost you”.

He was confused but put an arm around me: “What happened?”
I tell him about Andrea, and how lucky he was that she hasn’t a good aim, he laughed at that.

Then I decided to leave him to rest, so I got up and start heading to the door when I feel a grip on my wrist:
“Please stay….I need you..I didn’t mean what I told you earlier today”.

I was taken aback; I smiled at him and lay down beside him: “ That’s fine, but I’m still angry at you”.

—————————————————————————————————-

After two days Daryl was ready to go back to his tent, again he distance himself from us, and , after what he told me when he was recovering I decide to confront him.

It was dinner time so I took a dish for him.

Once I arrive to his tent I give him the food and sit with him.

There was silence, and I couldn’t take it anymore: “Ok, what do you want from me?”
He look up from the plate with wided eyes: “ what do you mean?”

I continue: “Before we were so close, we talk about anything, then you tell me that you don’t care about me, that I’m not special and brake my heart, and a few hours later you beg me to stay with you because you need me. WHAT DO YOU WANT DARYL DIXON?”

Tears start to fall from my eyes: “why do you play with my feelings? Why do you hate me so much”

I stand up, ready to leave him alone, but suddenly he stand up too, and walk toward me: “Damn! It’s not because I hate you, but because I love you”.

I look at him with a surprised look on my face.

He loves me?

“What?”
“I love you ok? I was scared because there is a chance to lose you, and I didn’t want to suffer. But when I was out there, and I was delirious, the only thing I could think was you, I made it to the farm because of you, you gave me the strength to fight because I wanted to see you again and tell you what I really feel”.

After that he starts to lean down, I stood on my tip and we crush our lips together.

This kiss was full of love and care.

After a while we parted: “I will never hurt you again (Y/n).”
He lean down to kiss me again, the kiss became more passionate, his tongue parts my lips and make love with my tongue.

We went into his tent and started to take off our clothes. That was the best night of my life.

—————————————————————————————————-

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping.

I was slump on Daryl’s chest, memory from the previous night come back at me, and I can’t help but smile.

Suddenly I feel kisses on my head: “Good morning (Y/n)”
I smile and kiss his chest: “Good morning babe”

He squeeze me with his arms and say: “You wore me out yesterday”
I giggle: “Told you I was good at riding”

He laughed and kisses my head.

Finally I was happy in the arms of my beloved redneck.

Quiet (Drabble Challenge)

Originally posted by ethereal-baek

49. But, I said I love you. + 29. You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying to talk to you, right?’ + Chanyeol

There’s nothing quite so frustrating as being soft-spoken and having to repeat everything you say several times. Your problems were compounded by constantly finding yourself in the middle of the beagles.

They were in Chanyeol’s room arguing about a video they were watching when you entered the scene.  

‘I swear it’s real!’ Baekhyun insisted.

'Why’s that?’ Jongdae said. 'There’s no way that that’s real!’

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Seventeen going to the Laundromat

Episode 12: Seventeen going to the laundromat to do their laundry because dk broke it a few weeks ago in the SHINee concert episode.

A/N: Finalllyyy I’m sorry for making you all wait, this is procrastination at its finest. So actually i’ve been pretty caught up with school stuff and all :’( it’s the exam period rn now but i will try my best to post another one soon~ :) would love to hear what you all think of my ‘scenarios’ :3 much loveeeee 


Vernon: “Someone tell me again why we’re going to the laundromat when we have a washing machine at home?”

DK: *creeps away* #culpritseokmin

Scoups: “Hmmmm I wonder why….” *glares at hoshi*

Hoshi: “Who? Me?”

Scoups: “Yeah who on earth do you think I’m looking at?”

Joshua: “It better not be Jeonghan”

Jeonghan: “What do you mean it better not be Jeonghan, IT HELLA RIGHT BE ME”

Hoshi: “At first I did wonder if you were looking at me, but then again you looked a little constipated…”

Scoups: “What?”

Hoshi: “You looked constipated”

Scoups: “YEAH I HEARD IT THE FIRST TIME SOONYOUNG”

Hoshi: “But you said what?”

Scoups: “That’s just… ugh never mind why do I even try”

Hoshi: “You need to try to poop so you won’t get constipation coups hyung”

Scoups: “GUYS THAT’S NOT THE POINT”

Seungkwan: “it’s not the right time to be talking about you because IF YOU DO NOT HAPPEN TO REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED 20 MINUTES AGO LET ME REFRESH YOUR MEMORIES”

*Twenty minutes ago*

Dino: “Om nom nom nom yummy yummy chicky nuggety” :>

Dino: *tries to bite the nugget but flies off his fork*

Seungkwan: “ARE YOU SEE-RI-OUS CHAN DID YOU JUST DROP YOUR CHICKEN NUGGET ONTO MY SHIRT?? NOW THERE IS KETCHUP AND ALLLLL ON ITTTT”

Dino: *pouts* TT

Mingyu: “What a waste of food, the five second rule applies to shirts too right?”

Wonwoo: “I want to say no because I don’t want you to eat that…”

Jun: “Then yes its a yes EAT THAT CRUSTY OLD NUGGET!” 

Jeonghan: “Stop blaming everything on my child BOOSEUNGKWAN”

Seungkwan: “THEN PLEASE TELL YOUR CHILD TO EAT HIS NUGGETS PROPERLY”

Mingyu: “Mingyu will be the first to start that petition”

*end of flashback*

Seungkwan: “MY SHIRT IS CURRENTLY COVERED IN DINO’S NASTY CHICKEN NUGGET KETCHUP SAUCE IT IS NOT THE RIGHT TIME TO BE ARGUING ABOUT YOU”

Vernon: “Oh so that’s what happened? I thought you got into a car accident or something…”

Jeonghan: “Hmph It’s always the right time to be talking about me”

Seungkwan: “YOU THOUGHT I WAS IN A CAR ACCIDENT AND DIDN’T ASK ME IF I WASS ALRIGHT??!”


Mingyu: “MINGYU IDEA!!! What happens if I put in my dirty dishes into the washing machines? My dishes will be clean!!”

Wonwoo: “and broken…”

Mingyu: “Mingyu will never have to do dishes again!!” \^^\

Jun: “What a genius, someone give him an award” *rolls eyes*

Vernon: “Dude, there is something called a dishwasher”

Mingyu: “oh…”

Woozi: “WOAAHH YUCKKK GROSS WHAT IS THAT STENCHHH?!?!” *pinches nose*

Seungkwan: “Probably the baby’s diapers”

Dino: :<  #seungkwanisouttogetchan

Jeonghan: “Oh no my baby did you poop your pants?”

Dino: “I AM NOT A BABY” D:

Jeonghan: “WHAT DID YOU SAY?!!!” *rages*

Dino: “I-I erm mean oopsie channie made a poopie”

Jeonghan: “Awwwwww my lil’ baby did his first poopie”

Dino: *internal cries* #helpchan2017

Mingyu: “OKAY MINGYU IDEA NUMBER TWO!!”

Woozi: “As if the first one wasn’t dumb enough”

Mingyu: “What if I put different fruits inside and if I don’t add detergent, it’ll give me fruit juice!!”

Joshua: “that’s called a blender”

Mingyu: 


DK: “Question”

Jun: “What dumb question are you going to ask now?”

DK: “How do I use this thingy?”

Jun: “Step one, open. Two, put your dirty clothes inside. Three close- and add detergent. Four, select water cycle. Five, put the coin-”

DK: “Wait-wait-wait hold-on-wait I didn’t catch what you said hyung, can you repeat it again??”

Jun: “One, open. Two put your stinky-ass laundry ins-“

DK: “say what? I got lost at step one”

Jun: *SIGHS* “first open the door”

DK: “wait where’s the door?”

Jun: *walks away*

DK: “JUN WHERE ARE YOU GOING? ARE YOU GOING TO FIND THE DOOR FOR ME???”


Mingyu: “I don’t get why we have to go to the laundromat when we could be going to that new bbq restaurant instead”

The8: “Of course typical unhygienic Mingyu rather eat than wash his clothes”

Woozi: “Tall in height, low in hygiene”

DK: “I am very tempted to make a comment”

Woozi: “TRY MEH”

DK: “Low in heig-“

Woozi: *eye twitch* “GET ME MY GUITAR”

Mingyu: “You guys make me sound like I don’t even wash my hands” *frowns*

Vernon: “Won’t be surprised”

Mingyu: “It’s not like you will die if you don’t wash your clothes or have poor hygiene, but you do know you will DIE if you don’t eat, right?”

Wonwoo: “Why does everything that Mingyu says, make sense to me…”

Vernon: “ERM have you perhaps heard of cholera?”

The8: “Dude and you just ate 30 minutes ago, why are you still thinking about more food?”

Mingyu: *gasps* “30 MINUTES WITHOUT FOOD HOW AM I ALIVE?!”

Joshua: “You are living because of the grace of the lord”

Mingyu: “Okay I think his grace is fading, I can feel myself dying, me needs food NOW!”

Seungkwan: “ALRIGHT LISTEN UP GERMY I’VE BEEN WEARING THIS SAME SHIRT FOR 3 WEEKS. ALL BECAUSE OF SEOKMIN AND HIS LACK OF LAUNDRY KNOWLEDGE AND NOW MY SHIRT SMELLS REAL BAD BECAUSE OF THAT BABY AND I WILL WHOOP YOUR TOL ASS IF YOU SAY ONE MORE WORD”

DK: “Wow someone woke up on the wrong side of their bed”

Woozi: “You’re lucky that you even woke up from any one side of your bed today my dearest dokyeom, there might not be a tomorrow for you”

DK: “Remind me to lock my bedroom before I sleep tonight”

Woozi: “I may or may not have a hidden copy of the key”

DK: “YOUNG MASTER LEE WOULD YOU LIKE YOUR FAITHFUL BUTLER SEOKMIN TO DO YOUR ROYAL LAUNDRY FOR YOU?”


Scoups: “WHOOOOO PUTTTTTT MYYYYY WHITTTEEEEE SHIRRRTTTT WITHHHH THEIRRR REDDDDD LAUNDRRRRYYYY?!?!??!!?!?”

DK: o.o

Jun: “Seokmin did” 0:D

Woozi: “Looks like you’re gonna be dead before we can get home” >:)

Scoups: “GET OVER HERE LEE SEOKMIN IS THIS YOUR STUPID RED SHIRT???”

DK: “N-No”

Wonwoo: “But I saw you wearing that shirt yesterday”

DK: “WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON WONWOO?!”

Scoups: “WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR SHIRT IN MY LAUNDRY?!! DON’T YOU KNOW YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO MIX YOUR REDS WITH WHITE LAUNDRY?!!!””

DK: “Jun hyung didn’t want to teach me how to use the spinny thingy”

The8: “You mean washing machine”

DK: “Yeah that! That spinning washing machine thingy”

Jun: “WHAT THE HECK DON’T YOU DARE PUSH THE BLAME TO ME”

Scoups: “MY SHIRT SEOKMIN! I GOT THIS SHIRT IN JAPANNNNN!!!”

Vernon: “OH DAMNNN, IT WAS A SPECIAL SHIRT”

DK: “I have a feeling everyone here is out to get me”

Hoshi: “I’m just glad no one is targeting me today” :)

Scoups: “HOW ARE YOU GOING TO FIX MY SHIRT NOW? IT BECAME PINK BECAUSE OF YOU!!”

DK: “I erm think you look great in pink, you’ll look really erm mascu-cough-masculine-cough”

Scoups: “You are such a bad liar”

DK: “Ma-Maybe y-you can use it as a rag?”

Scoups: *clenches fist*

DK: “Or or you could just dye or bleach the shirt….?”


Read the previous episode: Seventeen going to Dino’s birthday party

masterlist ✨

anonymous asked:

heyyy I think you're amazing omg!! The honeymoon one kinda inspired me, and I don't really have anything too specific ahah but maybe a blurb about sex when you're married/ when you have kids????? Only if you think you can :))))

Two rambunctious little twin boys would be chasing each other around the house after dinner, black curly hair and honey eyes. Ethan would finish drying the dishes you’d washed, catching them both by their chests and hoisting them up to sit them on the pallet you’d made for them on the floor. They’d argue over who could lay on the Buzz Lightyear pillow, Ethan making them compromise as you’d start the Disney movie. The boys would no longer even speak, entranced by the moving pictures and comedic kid content. You’d sigh with relief, passing Ethan with a squeeze to the shoulder and telling him you were heading for the laundry room to finish a load in the washer. His eyes would follow your ass in your yoga pants, rubbing his sweaty hands on his thighs. It wouldn’t be as easy to get in your pants anymore with all the parenting and responsibilities of the house. He double checks to make sure the boys are secure and zoned in on the tv, sneaking after you to the laundry room. You were bent over the laundry basket pulling little boy clothes from the hamper to the washing machine, a hard smack to your ass making you jump up and gasp. Ethan wouldn’t give you time to turn around, hoisting you up to sit on the edge of the dryer to make it quick and easy. He’d kiss your neck sloppily while you helped him rid your bottom half of clothing, him pulling his pants just below his cock to brush into you with a quiet groan. “Shit baby, I’ve missed you wrapped around me.” Quiet moans escape your mouth as your grip on his tshirt bunches the material under your fingers. You’d be almost to the brink of orgasming before tiny feet would thunder over the hardwood. “Daddy Daddy! Andy stole my Buzz Lightyear piwwow!” Ethan pulls out quickly, stuffing his hard cock back into his sweats as he rushes to the door to shut it behind him, Austin staring up with tears on his face. “Okay buddy, we’ll see if he’ll give it back. Come on.”

A tiny three year old princess has Grayson sitting at a cream wooden table decorated with beautiful flowers and fake tiny China, Gray pretending to sip the tiny tea cup as she bounces around the table offering tea to her fuzzy stuffed animals. You look on from your lean on the doorframe, smiling warmly at how she can convince Grayson to do absolutely anything. If anyone thought he was whipped for you back then, it compared nothing to how wrapped he was around that tiny girl’s finger. “More tea daddy?” She leans over his shoulder to inspect his cup, as he looks back at her with a smile as bright as the sun. “Yes, princess, daddy would love more tea.” You hate to ruin the fun, but it was inching toward 9 o'clock and far passed her bedtime, calling out for her to get comfy in her Minnie Mouse pajamas. Grayson helps her get dressed before tucking her in, kissing her forehead and telling her how much daddy loves her. He follows you out as you turn off the light, padding down the hallway and yawning. He sheds his clothes and crawls in the bed as you find a nightie to wear and undress like you do every other night. You enter the bed to be pulled underneath him, his eyes shining from the glow of the lamp on his bedside table. “How about we play for a little while now?” You giggle as he grips your ass firmly and smiles down at you. “Daddy would love more of this.” It would be playful, a lot of nipping and biting and him chasing you all over the bed in different positions. The creak of the door would shock you both far apart, the tiny princess by the door with a stuffed animal and tear stained cheek. Grayson grabs his shorts from the floor and pulls them up under the cover, getting up to cuddle her up. “Did you have a bad dream baby?” She’d nod her head and nuzzle into his neck, you slipping the nightie on under the covers as well as she’d join for bed nestled right in between you two.

OH MY GOSH this was actually so cute. I die when I think of the twins with kids 😻 thank you for requesting!

In the Good Ol’ Suppertime

Parts One and Two
by kyaada

For weeks, my roommate had been reminding me that we needed to have Marcie and her husband Jonathan over for dinner in thanks for their help our move in May.  In my mind, I could still see fresh images of Jonathan’s recently ex-military hunky build: his wide shoulders, his thick chest and nearly breast-like pecs, his tight bubblebutt, his meaty calves, and his sweet young face.  The beginnings of a round belly hinted at holding his tee shirt out in front, but overall he seemed to be on the textbook low-fat, lean and mean end of the scales of beefiness.  Jonathan’s strength was awesome; I watched in silent admiration as he packed unwieldy items down the stairs and into the big truck with unfettered grace.

Planning the menu for the dinner and then preparing the various treats had become almost a weeklong project.  Timing had ended up being fairly awkward, as the date for the event had been set for the evening right after Halloween night.  Nonetheless, our preparations fell right into place and we were breathing a sigh of relief that Saturday afternoon as appetizers, entrees, desserts, and drinks were flawlessly staged for that evening.  My roommate had made a point of consulting our most elaborate cookbooks, as Marcie was quite an accomplished at-home chef; we didn’t want to disappoint and preferred to impress at this point.

I was just arranging the bowls of honey-roasted peanuts and smokehouse almonds on the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang.  Following my roommate to the front door, I tried to appear attentive through a triple-Scotch-induced fog.  When the door swung open and I saw Jonathan standing confidently behind Marcie, I tried not to let my reaction be too noticeable; although I’m sure they didn’t miss my eyes widening to the size of cup saucers.

As he passed the door threshold and made his way towards me to offer a friendly handshake, I trembled at the sight of his even beefier ex-military status.  Of course, my memory was faithful to his big and meaty parts, but even the most casual of acquaintances couldn’t miss the distinct plump look of those big and meaty parts.  As I took his hand in mine, I couldn’t help but stare down at his commendably fattened and rounded belly as it perched itself over a torturously tight pair of Levi denim shorts.  He wore a burgundy red stretch-knit shortsleeved shirt that spared relatively few details; his sensual bumps, bulges, and nipple peaks were all artfully displayed.

“Hello, Jonathan, good to see you.”  I said, trying to calm my elation.

“Thanks.  Good to see you, too.”

As Marcie and my roommate went off to do some looking around the house, I led Jonathan into the kitchen where I teased him with a big jar of Halloween chocolates.  

“Oh, thanks, but hmmm…” Jonathan thought, with his hand going to the side of his belly, “I think I ate about five pounds of candy this week, and probably gained at least that much weight.  I was cursing these shorts earlier today trying to get them buttoned…”  Jonathan pointed out as he smacked his fat round belly.  His belly seemed to bounce with incredible precision, showing me the perfect balance of size, firmness, and fatness.

“Well, I’m sure they just shrunk a little bit in the wash, Jonathan.”

Jonathan smiled confidently that he had a more truthful explanation. “Hot water and a hot dryer cycle may be to blame for a tighter waistband in some situations, but I think too much beer and food is more the culprit in my case.”

Still feeling the effects of my Scotch, I offered “I thought I noticed something different about you when you walked in.  You *have* gained a little weight since the last time we saw each other, haven’t you?”  I started to walk around the kitchen counter to the liquor cabinet.

“Oh, you’re being too polite, Brian.  My belly is getting pretty hard to miss.”  Jonathan reached under the thick belly roll that scrunched down the tight waistband.  "It took me more than a couple tries to get these damn shorts buttoned this morning, and I still feel like a very full tick in them.  Hey, you got any beer?“

"Of course!  I knew you were coming.  It’s in the fridge.”  

Jonathan served himself while I finished my retrieval of the Scotch bottle.  He’d been nibbling from the bowls of nuts, but began feverishly digging in them in an apparent quest to devour them all.  I put out a big bowl of chips with a party-size dose of salsa, and he dove into that as well.  Marcie and my roommate had returned from their house tour, and Marcie joined Jonathan in the kitchen.  He had nearly finished his first beer when she leaned into his back and wrapped her arms around him from behind.  My cock poised itself for immediate erection as her hands carefully massaged his big pecs and then lazily traveled south to his plump round belly.  Marcie continued her massage on each side of Jonathan’s stout middle, and then paused to try to grab a handful of well-developed belly on each side.  

“Honey, maybe you were diving too deep in the candy dish this week?”  She softly asked in his ear.

“Maybe so,” Jonathan admitted, “but that was an awfully big bag of candy we got at Costco.”

The lighthearted discussion continued as Jonathan got a second beer and stepped up his assault on the snack bowls.  I didn’t want it to end, but the casserole was announcing its imminent debut from the oven.

“Are you guys ready to eat?”  My roommate asked.

Jonathan easily cracked a smile as he languidly dragged his strong hand across the width of his fat belly and assured her “oh yeah, I’m always ready to eat.”

Although I had argued earlier with my roommate about the quantity of food we had prepared, thinking that there were too many dishes and simply too much of each, I was now very thankful for the Herculean portions loading up the dining room table.  Jonathan looked hungry, and he didn’t need any coaxing to start.

“Boy, does this look *good*!” Jonathan excitedly proclaimed, serving himself an enormous square of chile releno casserole.  "You guys are going to need a forklift to get me outta here!“

Laughter arose from the table at Jonathan’s comments, but there was an element of truth in his statement; I could see big things in his very near future by the way he mercilessly stuffed a tortilla full of steak fajita mixture from a giant bowl.  By the time Jonathan added beans, rice, and guacamole to his plate with the rest, there wasn’t space available for a molecule more.  Marcie did most of the talking at the table as Jonathan hungrily shoveled food, I watched Jonathan, and my roommate paid attention to Marcie. Jonathan looked up at me occasionally and batted his lusciously long eyelashes.  He was always busy chewing, so he didn’t have much opportunity or inclination to respond to any of Marcie’s rambling discussion.

"Jonathan here hasn’t seen the inside of a gym for quite a while now.”

My roommate spoke up in response, “he looks pretty good, though.”

“Solid,” I noted, staring at Jonathan’s quickly burgeoning stomach.  

“Yeah, he’s getting so *solid* that he’s having trouble bending over to tie his shoes.”  Marcie commented, looking to her right at Jonathan’s midsection.  "We went to Bogey’s Pizza Parlor the other night…“

"Marcie,” Jonathan interrupted, “we weren’t going to bring that up again, remember?”

“Oh, these are our friends– it’s OK, isn’t it?”

Jonathan hesitated after pushing in a heaped forkful of cheese-laden casserole, “…well… sure, I suppose.”

“I’m pretty sure that Jonathan has forgotten anymore when he’s supposed to stop eating.  It was all-you-can-eat night, and you know how good their pizza is, and, well, Jonathan overdid it a little bit.”

Jonathan listened shallowly as he asked for more casserole.  Since it was so rich, I was at first amazed he wanted more; nonetheless, I passed him the serving spoon and he carved out another person-and-a-half-sized portion and dumped it on his recently cleaned plate.

“So, after Jonathan finished gorging himself on ample portions of everything, we got up to leave.  Well, Jonathan was wearing one of his old pairs of khaki shorts from when he was in the Service, and they were painted on him like a second skin. Anyway, he drops his credit card at the register counter, leans down to pick it up– I still don’t know how he was able to bend in the middle– and *rips* the back seam open on his shorts!” Marcie took another sip of her drink.

Reserved laughter seconded Marcie’s spirited guffaw, and Jonathan smiled sheepishly as he packed two more tortillas full of steak fajita mixture and guacamole.  He straightened his back a little in his chair, making the oak creak a bit. Jonathan’s belly had respectably grown in size during his unrestrained indulgence, and he relaxed his abdominal muscles enough to facilitate an impressive rounding of his belly region. The soft cotton of his shirt stretched more to further highlight his swelling bulge.  Before he dug back in, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his belly from side-to-side.  "You guys– this is so delicious.  I love that casserole.“

"Brian made that,” my roommate quickly credited.

“It’s got the most incredible flavor.  I love the texture too.  It just slides down.”

“Well, there’s plenty more, Jonathan,” I pointed out, realizing that he had eaten as much as three of us had, “help yourself!”

“Oh, I will!”

As dinner stretched on into the evening, Jonathan’s belly stretched right along with it;  should someone had been bold enough to slip a tape measure around the ex-military hunk’s midsection, they would have been delighted to find the measurement inching larger and larger, keeping pace with the vacuum rate of Jonathan’s hungry mouth. Jonathan had dared eat a third gigantic helping of casserole, along with a total of five pregnant fajitas, along with king-size portions of beans, rice, and guacamole, and all of it chased down his well-exercised gullet by four ice-cold bottles of beer.  Long after everyone else was satisfied and sitting around waiting for a coffee or a bite of dessert, Jonathan was just then finishing his latest plateful and leaning back in his chair to offer a raucous belch from deep underneath his massive meal.  Jonathan’s belly had blown up into an incredibly pumped and handsome balloon, offering a wide ledge under his juicy pecs.  From just sitting across the table from him, I could tell he was blissfully heavy; Jonathan’s belly was impressively swollen, yet there was a sense that he was tortured by the decision of whether or not to indulge himself in another round of helpings.

Marcie turned again to the right to look him over carefully.  She reached her hand over and firmly patted his belly.  "See, you guys?  Solid.“

"Wow, that was great.”  Jonathan said, putting his right hand on top of his protruding belly.

“There’s still some more left, Jonathan, help yourself!” I teased, not sure if he’d go for more or not.

“Oh, believe me, I’d love to,” Jonathan covered his mouth in response to a hearty belch, “but my belly is really s-t-u-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-e-d.”

“I take it that we’ll wait a bit to offer you two some dessert and coffee?” my roommate asked.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.”

Marcie spoke up, “well, let’s let these guys take care of the dishes…”  And with that, she and my roommate were off again to her office, leaving the very-bloated Jonathan unattended with me across the table lusting after his incredibly beefed-up, plumped-up form.

“That’s it…I gotta stand up for a while, guy.” Jonathan told me, as he struggled to push his chair away from the table.  "My butt is gettin’ tired from sittin’.“  

"Should I run and go get the forklift?”

Jonathan gave up a pleased laugh and shook his head.  He’d been put in the corner chair by the big houseplant, so he had precious little space in which to wield his chunkier form around. When he stood up straight, it was blatantly obvious that he’d totally overindulged his increased appetite and overeaten to the very definition of excess.  When he reached down to grab his plate, I quickly let him know to take it easy, and that I would take care of the dishes.

Jonathan lazily lumbered out of the dining room and headed for the kitchen. His giant round swollen belly loomed out distantly over his now excruciatingly tight Levi shorts, and his burgundy red stretchknit shirt tried its best to cover the increased region of overindulgence.  He sauntered about with his wide shoulders back, letting his heavy full belly extend as far as it wanted over his taut waistband.  I watched his exaggerated movements as I continued to clear the table. Finally, Jonathan felt guilted enough to help carry in a plate as I stood at the sink spraying them off for the dishwasher.  He came up behind me and sat the plate down to my right as he leaned his solid round gut into the back of my elbow.  

“My gut feels pregnant, dude.”  Jonathan said in a proud, unwavering voice as he continued to push against my elbow.  “Like 11 months pregnant from that deee-lic-ious dinner…”

Not wasting any time, I pushed back with my elbow into his firm round belly.  Jonathan pushed against me more, almost knocking me into the sink; he grabbed my shoulders to put me steady back on my feet.  "Whoa,“ he said, and pulled me back toward him, "didn’t mean to knock you over.”

I turned around and took the chance to thump his belly more than a couple times.  "Jonathan, I’m really glad you enjoyed the dinner.  *Really* enjoyed the dinner,“ I emphasized, liberally surveying the surface region of his big belly.  

"Well, I sure did enjoy it.  I really wanted to eat more, but my belly got so maxed out that I thought for sure it’d bust if I stuffed anymore in it.  I tell ya, there really are times when I wish my gut was bigger, even though Marcie bitches about it.”  He relaxed a bit as I continued to rub his belly.  I poked him right in the fattest part, and he grunted.  "I suppose I do resemble the Pop'n Fresh Doughboy right now.“

"Only on a much larger, more well-fed, vastly more pregnant scale, Jonathan.”  We both laughed.  “Taller, too. Taller than that short little doughboy. How tall are you, Jonathan?”

“Six-foot-two, dude.  And unlike my weight, that number doesn’t continue to grow.  I think I’ve porked up to about 235 now; I don’t really know. It’s such an extra effort to get on that ol’ bathroom scale.”

Jonathan swaggered over to the fridge and helped himself to another beer. He guzzled cold brew as I toiled with the dishes.

“You know, Brian,” he started, “a guy can’t have a gut like this in the Service.  They legislate your *weight* in that stuff– it sucks!!  I remember being in this remote post way up by the Arctic Circle with one other guy and an entire roomful of rations.  I tell ya, it didn’t take long for the boredom of the thing to set in, and we were spending most of our time eating.  The post was really small, and there was literally no room to exercise.  All we did was eat, sleep, sit in our chairs, and make trips to the latrine.” Jonathan wetted his voice with another swig of beer.  "It wasn’t long before we were both getting fat, resorting to eating contests for entertainment.“

"Jeez, how long were you there?”

“Long enough to fatten up pretty good.  My CO made me lose 40 pounds when I got back.  He was pretty upset with the fact that I had a gut– not even as big as it is now– and that my uniform wouldn’t button in the front. Oh well, I lost the weight and he got off my case.”

“I bet you’re happy you don’t have that to deal with anymore, huh?”

“Well, some parts of it I miss.  But tonight, I wouldn’t trade this *big* bellyful of *great* food for *anything*…”  With that comment, Jonathan slugged down the rest of his beer, belched, and slapped his belly.

“Did you want to see what’s for dessert?”  I asked.

“Sure!”

I unveiled a chocolate cake that was richer than a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, and Jonathan’s eyes widened with interest.  Cracking the freezer door open, I pointed to the quart of vanilla Haagen Dazs that sat innocently on the top shelf.  Jonathan licked his lips and made a deep “mmmmm” sound. Since I’d drawn his attention in that direction, he looked up and saw a box of Entemann’s “Pop'ems” on top of the fridge.  

“What are those, Brian?”  Jonathan asked with drooling interest.

“Oh, they’re really good.  Chocolate-coated donut holes.”

“I love donuts.”

“Funny, I never would have thought that you did.”  We both laughed at the fun-intended sarcasm; I grabbed the box of Pop'ems and started to open it.

“So, why do they call them Pop'ems?”

I opened up the box, grabbed one of the bite-size treats, and shoved it into Jonathan’s mouth.  "Because you pop ‘em in your mouth.“  I smiled as Jonathan chewed, returning the smile.

"So, Marcie was telling me something about you having a doll collection or something?”

A little surprised at the change of subject, I stammered, “well, something like that.”

“Where is it?  I would like to see it.”

“Well, it’s in my bedroom.”

“OK, lead the way.”  Jonathan told me, devouring another Pop'em.  He brought the box with him into my bedroom.

He stood there looking at my collection of Kens, chewing constantly due to the steady stream of Pop'ems.  He looked like Pac Man on an energy pellet binge.  "You know,“ he started, "they should make a doll that’s more like real life.  I mean, how many guys look like that…well, I guess I used to a bit—but I always had bigger bulges in my chest and crotch.  But eventually they discover there’s more to life than flat-abs and three-hour workouts.”

I opened up my closet door and grabbed one of my Oliver Hardy collector dolls to show him.  "Now, this is more like it.  Look at the shape of that gut– nice, *big* one.  Look at the way that it pops out of that too-small suit coat.  I like it.“

"So do I,” I assured Jonathan, “that’s why I bought it.”

He popped another donut treat in his mouth and looked at me.  

“Check this out.”  I reached up to the top shelf of my closet and produced a “Weekend Sportsman Bank”.  The bank accurately represented a beer-and-pizza-fed, well-paunched couch-potato “weekend sportsman” who wore too-small shorts and buttoned shirt that allowed his burgeoning paunch to hang out bare.  I explained how his belly grew bigger and bigger as the lucky saver shoved more coins down his plastic gullet, and showed Jonathan the span of which the little guy’s belly was capable of growing.

“That’s so cool,” Jonathan said, eating another Pop'em.

“Yeah, but there’s a limit to how big this little guy is going to get.  I mean, there comes a time when his gut is as full of coins as it can possibly get.” I sat the bank down on my dresser. “Not like the real thing,” I said, sticking my finger into Jonathan’s firm round belly, “not like the real thing that eventually stretches and lets more in…and then keeps on growing bigger and bigger and…”

“Bigger!”  Jonathan took another enthusiastic bite, then sat down on the edge of my bed, sat the box of Pop'ems down at his side, and flopped himself backwards onto the mattress. He slid farther onto the bed and let his chunky legs dangle a bit over the edge.  Jonathan’s very round belly towered into the air like the lava-pregnant dome on an erupting volcano.  He relaxed his muscular arms out from his sides and took in a deep breath.

I couldn’t control myself any longer, so I nudged myself closer and rested my hand on his fat round bellyball.  Gently I rocked his big swollen mound from side-to-side, listening for the satisfied slosh of its long list of contents.  "And so, Jonathan, how’s this belly bank doing?“

"Deposits are up, and the amount of interest seems to be increasing. A lot of room left to grow.” He went to reach for a Pop'em, and I grabbed one before he did.  Our eyes met for a minute, and I accepted his unspoken invitation to pop it into his mouth. Putting another in his mouth, I then grabbed the Bellybank from the dresser and lifted up its shirt to show Jonathan.  To my delight, Jonathan did the same with his taut shirt, baring the literally full expanse of studbelly.  I popped another donut treat in his mouth and then rubbed his tall round belly in wide circles.  Putting my open hand onto where his solid gut emerged from his too-tight denim shorts, I shook him a little from top-to-bottom, while eyeing the incredibly stressed pants button.  

“Wow, Jonathan.  How can you stand these shorts?  They have got to be cutting off your circulation.”

“Yeah, they are pretty damn tight.”  As I propelled another miniature donut bellybomb into his mouth, he grunted his way to popping open his top jeans button.  He smacked his belly as it took advantage of the sorely-needed open space, “ahhhhh yeah– that’s the stuff…er…stuffing!”

“Having a good time, Jonathan?”

“The best.  Talk about good stuffing.”

“And speaking of good stuffing– just think– it’s only three weeks until Thanksgiving.”

“Definitely.  'Tis the season to get enormously fat.  This year I’m not holding back for anything or anybody.  I’m going to stuff, and I’ll stuff, and I’ll stuff myself until my belly bus-s-s-s-sts itself wide open– should take a long, long time.” Jonathan chuckled.  I poked another Pop'em into his mouth and he chewed slowly.  "Jeez, are you going to feed me that whole box?“

I lifted up the box and showed him the empty white space: "Just did,” I said.   I reached over and thumped his belly; gently I broke into a rubbing exercise. “Wow, feel all of those little bellybombs in there.  Pretty *solid* again, guy.  Ready for some coffee and dessert?”

“Sure thing, Brian.  I’m looking forward to it!”

Jonathan pulled his shirt back down to cover his bare expanse of impressively prominent belly, appearing to enjoy the fact that his top shorts button had been blown wide open to sport a “V”-shaped gap in his sinfully tight waistband.  Jonathan’s substantial ballbelly offered an interesting dimension into his languid gait back to the kitchen, and I watched from behind as he swung his arms out wide from his sides.  Marcie and my roommate were watching some movie out in the family room as Jonathan and I rounded the corner.  Jonathan helped himself to the fridge again and this time poured himself a glass of milk.

“Thirsty,” he said.

Then, like she had done earlier, Marcie made her way into the kitchen and stood behind her man again.  Like she had done earlier, she concentrated her attentions on Jonathan’s middle section, although she really had to reach for the very front of him. I watched her hand slowly descend over the bowed circumference of his bloated belly, and then slyly disappear under where his shirt hem dangled in front.  "Well, honey,“ Marcie began cautiously, as she picked her hand up and sat it back down with a thump on the very center of Jonathan’s distended belly, "you really enjoyed your dinner tonight, huh?”

“Oh yeahhhh,” Jonathan assured everyone, letting Marcie continue to enjoy thumping his belly.

“Honey, honey…you’re going to be heading into the holiday season this year with an ample advantage!”  Marcie told her chubby hubby.  "I better plan the menus and pace the treats out right, otherwise you’re going to become a very juicy guy by New Year’s.“

Jonathan groaned a bit at the thought of his food supply dwindling during one of his favorite times of the year, and tried to suck in his belly while Marcie continued to survey its size with concern.  Jonathan’s belly was simply too full to budge in any direction of thinner, so he just let it swell out as big as it needed while he relaxed. "Sure, honey,” he said, winking at me.

Without much more delay, I offered Jonathan a more-than-generous piece of rich chocolate cake and sidecar bowl of ice cream.  Dreading getting back into his chair at the dining room table, he sat on a stool in front of the kitchen counter.  He sat so that his belly hung out and swelled distantly over his taut shorts.  Marcie seemed to get more stressed as Jonathan enjoyed his dessert, and cut me off when I offered him more.

“We hate to eat and run, but we’d better get going,” Marcie quickly offered.  

Jonathan looked disappointed, as I’m sure he wanted another piece of cake.  So, I packaged up half of the cake for them to take home with them.  As they left, Jonathan patted his enormous round belly, belched, and said, “let’s do this again.”

I agreed, and then watched as he waddled his way out to their car.

People get busy, and the weeks sped by.  What Marcie neglected to mention at that October dinner was that she and Jonathan were expecting a baby.   The holidays passed, and I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see Jonathan, but I knew that he and Marcie were busy with all sorts of family activities. Both sets of parents lived in the Bay Area, and I was sure that it was a very get-together intensive season.  It wasn’t until mid-January that my roommate and I were able to schedule something with them.

“Let’s meet at the restaurant on Friday night around 7:30, ok?” was what I overheard my roommate say on the phone to Marcie.

I felt a crisp wave of anticipation come over me, inspiring significantly increased bloodflow as mental pictures of Jonathan played in my mind like a sublime slide show of delight.  “Great!” I blurted out, startling my roommate.  

“Wow, you really like seeing Marcie and Jonathan…”

“Yes, my favorite people,” I offered as mostly truth, but keeping private that Jonathan was fast becoming my main obsession.

Like all eagerly anticipated things, the dinner at Galliano’s did not come without my usual hunger-stifling jitters.  I ordered a glass of Merlot to settle my nerves as we waited for Marcie and her hunky hubby to arrive; we were there a bit early to get a good table as it was one of their busiest nights.  Strategically seating myself with a panoramic view of the door and most of the restaurant, I sipped Merlot and tried to get my nerves and erection under control.

Then, like an opening act taking the concert stage, Marcie appeared in the doorway; I felt my blood pressure rise in now feverish-hot anticipation of the headliner sure to arrive next.  I swear I could hear the roar of the crowd as Jonathan appeared several people behind Marcie, but I’m sure it was just my pounding heart and the blood rushing in my veins.  A smile curved onto his slightly chubbier, freshly goateed face as he saw us at the table in the corner.  Marcie led the way, her pregnant belly showing her obvious child-bearing status; Jonathan trailed behind, adopting a manly swagger around his own pregnant belly status—bigger than he’d been in January, and certainly bigger than Marcie.

My roommate and I stood as they reached our table, and I offered a hearty handshake to Jonathan as he shifted over to choose the seat directly across from me.  Instinctively, my eyes quickly traveled up and down the six-feet-plus-two-inches of Jonathan’s superlatively well-fed frame.   As I shook his big soft hand, I felt my cheeks getting red as my gaze glued onto his fat round belly, succulently juiced-up pecs, and budding lovehandles all encased by a very stretched golf-print pullover shirt.  Jonathan had gotten more swaybacked, and his impressive rotund gut jutted over the taut waistband of his khaki-colored Dockers that fretted to contain his more thickly-padded thighs and bubble butt. His eyes followed my gaze down to his pooched-out middle as the smile broadened on his face.  His free hand slapped under his solid fat protrusion before his surveying ended up in a hypnotic back-and-forth rubbing on his firm overhang.

Jonathan laughed, “Brian, I suppose you’re wondering which one of us is pregnant, huh?”

Marcie joined in the laughter, followed by my roommate and I. She looked over at Jonathan’s fat round belly that dwarfed her 5-month pregnancy, placed her hand on top his solid beach ball, and said, “Jonathan is doing a great job of growing an empathy belly here, but there’s no doubt that I’m the one that will be popping in May.”

We took our seats, and picked up the menus that the waitress had left before. Jonathan’s mind seemed to wander as he kept looking over his menu at me. “Boy, am I hungry.  My stomach is like totally empty.”

Marcie chuckled.  “Sure, Jonathan.  Make it sound like I’ve been neglecting and starving you all day.  I seem to remember hearing about a certain young man’s pants coming open after an overly generous lunch I packed for you today.”

“Oh, that was bound to happen.  These pants are just too small for me, and you know it.”

“Well, all of your clothes seem to be too small and hard-to-button after that bountiful holiday season we had.”

“True,” Jonathan agreed with a confident smile returning to his face. “Silly to complain, though.  I have a lot to be thankful for…”

“…and I think you had more-than-ample occasion to give thanks for all of those things on Thanksgiving,” Marcie interrupted.

Jonathan’s expression melted into memories of past satisfaction, and he leaned back in his chair while running his hand down the front of his plump meaty paunch.  The waitress appeared and readied herself to gather our dinner orders; she took Jonathan’s order last.  Jonathan kind of surprised everyone by ordering not one, but two, large entrées. My heart gave into palpitation, as I knew that one of Galliano’s entrées was enough to pack an above-average stomach to blissfully stretched fullness, but two?  After Jonathan had ordered his beer, he looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “guess I’m a bit on the hungry side tonight.”

“So, you had a pleasant Thanksgiving, Jonathan?”  I probed.

“God, yeah.  We had back-to-back dinners that day.  Even though we were supposed to go to both of our parents’ houses for dinner, Marcie insisted on making a big ol’ turkey dinner herself for just us.”

“Honey, it’s just not Thanksgiving unless you get to cook!” Marcie interjected.  

“Oh, I know—the chef’s speaking now,” Jonathan chuckled, patting Marcie’s shoulder.

Our drinks arrived, and Jonathan didn’t waste time in grabbing his bottle and pouring a cold glassful for himself to savor.  After a lengthy satisfying swig, he continued with his anecdote of Thanksgiving conquest.

“I still don’t know how I was able to eat all of that food,” Jonathan reflected, rubbing his belly absentmindedly, “but you know how when you’re blowing up a balloon, you keep puffing more air into it, feeling it stretch tighter and tighter, until his elasticity is almost gone…”

Marcie’s head snapped toward her chunky husband as she blurted, “did you realize you just said ‘his’ and not ‘its’…?”

Jonathan’s face got a little red as a nervous chuckle bubbled out of him, “uh, um, I meant its elasticity is almost gone, and it becomes increasingly more difficult to blow more air into it as you suspect it’s about to burst?”

My erection throbbed as I stammered, “yes.”  

“Well, I don’t even know for sure how many times my belly felt that way on Thanksgiving.”

“It’s true,” Marcie said, watching as the waitress delivered four salads with a soup for Jonathan.  The well-fed hubby began to devour salad and soup on top of the basket of hot fresh bread and creamery butter already in his belly.  “We were at my parents’ house last, and this poor guy had

been gorging himself non-stop all day long.  He was so bloated and heavy that he made an easy target for my mother’s relentless offer of ‘just a little more, Jonathan?’”

Jonathan belched conservatively and excused himself; he listened to Marcie prattle on, but couldn’t be distracted too long from his dwindling pile of salad and hearty bowl of clam chowder.   “Yeah, your mom was bound and determined on getting rid of all that pie she had baked.  Said she didn’t want it around because she was on a diet or something—your dad seemed a little disappointed.”

“So, it’s 10:30 at night, and Jonathan is still sitting at the table, and my mom is still feeding him pie.  I keep telling mom that his belly must be getting pretty full by that point, and she offers her opinion that she doesn’t think his big belly is ever going to get full.  You should have seen this sight, but I took pictures—there’s Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his belly swollen into a rock-solid sphere, and he barely able to breathe.”

“And I wanted more, I tell you,” Jonathan offered.  His face brightened as the waitress appeared to clear our dishes and return shortly with our entrées.  

“Would you like your lasagna with your raviolis, or later, sir?” the waitress asked Jonathan.  

“A little later, thank you.”  

“Another beer?”  

“Absolutely.”

An erotic silence fell over the table as we began to eat our dinners. Jonathan seemed to relish the generously stuffed homemade pasta, and devoured each morsel in one bite where the less initiated might have cut them in two with their fork.  

My attention was diverted from Jonathan as a six-foot delight emerged from the kitchen area.  Standing at the counter for a moment wrestling off his sauce-splattered green apron, he adjusted his skin-tight pink tank top after handing his apron to a passing waitress.  Even from a distance, I could see that his extra-stuffed black Levi’s rode open one button under his hefty round fat belly; the tanned rotund belly pooched out firmly– escaping from under the hem of his taut tank top.   I wasn’t sure if he was returning my stare or gazing at Jonathan’s grazing as he passed our table in a very self-assured saunter.  

Jonathan caught the handsome dark-haired Italian chunk as he brushed past our table on his way to the restroom.  “Wow…I think that was Vince Galliano.”  Jonathan watched the rounded ass disappear into the restroom area, and then cleaned up his ample portion of raviolis.  The attentive waitress seemed to be there in a blink of an eye, and she offered to take his plate and bring his lasagna; the offer was accepted without hesitation.

The chunky Italian reappeared from the restroom, and made his way over to our table.  Jonathan leaned back and held out his hand, “Vince?  Vince Galliano?”

“Yep.  Jonathan?”

The two smiled and enthusiastically shook hands, giving each other the once, then twice-over.  “Vince, boy, you’ve gotten big there!  Jeans don’t even button!”  Jonathan reached over and thumped the fat round belly that jutted over the border of our table space.  Vince chuckled, put his hands on his belly and sensuously shook it with unmistakable pride.

“Yeah, Jonathan.  I’m growing into my job as cook at mom ‘n dad’s restaurant.”  Then Vince turned his attention to his pal that sat before him. Thumping Jonathan’s beefy round belly with apparent satisfaction, he noted, “and you’ve done pretty good yourself there, Jonathan.”

Jonathan gave a confident chuckle, “you bet your butter rolls, guy. I’m here tonight taking full advantage of your good cooking.”

“That’s great.  Believe me, you can see the results of taking advantage of my good cooking and my nona’s recipes.”  Vince put his hand under this firm round overhang near his open jeans button, gently bouncing his plump middle up and down.  “So far, this is only a one-button night, but my special tonight is so good that I think I’m going to end up with a very nice, big, full belly over two-button open comfort by closing tonight…”

“Your special?”  Jonathan asked as the waitress deposited the boat-shaped dish of lasagna in front of him.

“Big juicy tiger prawns, mushrooms, and this wonderful creamy garlic butter sauce over linguine.”  Vince actually salivated at the mere mention of the dish, and Jonathan followed suit. “Delicious.”

Jonathan took a cooled bite of lasagna and commented, “wow, wish I would have known about that before I ordered.”

“Aaaah, don’t worry about it.”  Vince patted Jonathan’s shoulder.  “Damn, good to see you again, guy.”

“You too.”  Jonathan shook his Italian friend’s hand again before getting back to business on entrée number two.

I watched as Vince’s well-padded ass wiggled into the kitchen, and then Jonathan as he began to shovel pasta with renewed energy. Jonathan’s belly had swollen considerably by mid-lasagna, and the seams on his pullover shirt were really starting to pucker.  Marcie’s attention became diverted from her conversation with my roommate and she reached over and patted her husband’s spherical belly.  Jonathan offered up a fairly satisfied belch, and then leaned back to allow his wife to survey the breadth of his bloated mound of belly.

“Honey, I can’t finish my veal parmesan, and I don’t want to take home any leftovers.  There really isn’t much left, would you mind being a dear and finishing it off for me?”

“Sure.  Just a minute.”  Jonathan shoved a large finale bite of lasagna into his mouth, and traded plates with her.  

My cannelloni had gone pretty much neglected as I was a bit distracted from my own hunger; one of the tasty pasta tubes was gone, but there remained a second.  As I sat mesmerized by Jonathan’s seemingly bottomless pit and the quick evaporation of Marcie’s leftovers, I considered offering him the rest of my dinner.  Jonathan leaned back in his chair, reaching his muscular arms towards the ceiling.  The stretching exercise seemed to only increase his very swollen abdomen from top to bottom; the taut hem of his golf-print pullover shirt edged up the circumference to bare a nice portion of very well-fed bulge.  Jonathan’s deep exhaling caused a breeze felt across the table, and a loud belch followed it.  “Well, well, well,” Jonathan acknowledged, “my big ol’ belly must be getting full!”

“Damn,” I said, attracting Jonathan’s immediate attention, “and I was hoping you would help me with this cannelloni.  I just can’t eat any more, Jonathan.  Can you?”

“Sure.”  Jonathan smiled as we traded plates.  “I think this big ol’ balloon of mine has some stretch in it yet…”

Marcie nodded her head in support.  “I agreed that Jonathan can put off his dieting until after the baby is born. I couldn’t stand to watch his sad handsome face while I ate whatever the baby and I wanted; it was cruel and unusual punishment for such a nice guy.”

Jonathan grunted over my donated cannelloni.  “Plus, I have an advantage over Deb.  I don’t have a baby growing and taking up space in my pregnant belly.”

Marcie reached over and rubbed Jonathan’s immensely rotund gut, “nope honey, you have one hundred percent stomach to fill.”

“Some nights, more like 110%, huh, Jonathan?”  I quipped.

“Yeah, like tonight.  Ooo-ooo-oo-ffff-ffff!  Push me away from the trough and plug my pie-hole.  I think my belly is at maximum bloat.  My stomach feels like an overpumped basketball in there.“ Jonathan actually pushed away the last bite of cannelloni and relaxed into a reclined position richly deserved.

Just as Jonathan began rubbing his hugely stuffed gut, I saw Vince emerge from the kitchen again; this time, the hot Italian was without his apron, and there were sauce dribbles on his pink tank top.  Vince’s incredibly swollen round gut wobbled in front of him, solidly protruding over tight black jeans that were now burst open two buttons.  More bare tanned belly was sticking out under the rolled-up tank top, and Vince was truly amazing to see.  In his hand, he carried a vast plateful of pasta and giant prawns.    

Jonathan could scarcely move from his laid-back position, but struggled to acknowledge Vince’s appearance at our table as the generous stud offered yet more food.  Vince moved the mostly vacant cannelloni plate and sat the heap of Friday night special in front of Jonathan.  

“Whoa, dude…I thought you should try my special, but signs point to your belly making a loud pop noise if you swallow one more morsel.”

Jonathan nodded his head, but his eyes were all over Vince’s protruding round belly.  “You’re lookin’ pretty gorged there yourself, Vince.  Take pretty hefty advantage of your cooking tonight?”  

Vince smiled broadly as he patted his big full belly.  “More than usual, even.  I feel like just taking the rest of the night off…grabbing a king-size plate of tiramisu and a fork and going off in a corner…eating until I can’t move…”  Jonathan burped, practically begging for Vince’s anticipated response of thumping ex-military stud’s solid porked-up belly; Vince responded with a few well-placed thumps on Jonathan’s stout middle.  “Boy, Jonathan, I think you really enjoyed your meal, well, meals tonight.  But no dinner is complete without dessert. Please let me treat you and your tablemates to a nice dessert.”

Vince asked the waitress to put the mound of special in a to-go box as he waddled off to fetch us all dessert.  I looked over at Jonathan, who now languidly scratched the front of his fat prominent belly.   “Got an itch?”  I asked.

“Yeah, heh,” Jonathan began, “when the skin on my belly gets stretched this tight, it itches.”  Marcie reached over and scratched her over-fed hubby’s belly as he relaxed it for her to get good coverage.  

“Poor Jonathan,” she said, looking over at me, “his belly skin is stretched so tight around his big dinner that he feels like one of those over-blown balloons he was talking about earlier.  I best rub him a little to see if I can loosen him up a bit for when his friend brings back that dessert.”  Jonathan’s eyes glazed over as her outstretched fingers traversed his colossal round belly.  His erect nipples were evident through his taut pullover shirt, which essentially wore like sausage casing at that point.  “How’s that feel, my big ol’ pregnant guy?”  It wasn’t necessary for him to answer, since drool accumulated and dripped from a corner of his slightly open mouth as evidence of his pleasure.  

Vince returned with a large tray of amazing goodies, and sat it on an empty table across from ours.  “That’s the stuff, huh, guy?”  Vince commented, watching Marcie rub Jonathan’s solid protrusion in unrestrained circles.  “Big full belly and a nice bellyrub to go along with it.   Well, get him ready, Marcie, look what I brought!”

Vince began transferring plates and bowls to the table.  A giant chunk of pound cake with stacks of strawberries and fresh whipped cream.  An immense piece of chocolate-on-chocolate cake.  A gargantuan piece of tiramisu.  A tub of hot fudge sundae, replete with nuts and several maraschino cherries.  Vince stood back and admired what he had created, “now, if that doesn’t fatten your belly, Jonathan, I don’t know what will!!”

“Hell, Vince, if my belly gets any fatter tonight, you’re gonna have to help roll me out of here.”

“Don’t sweat it, big guy, just relax and enjoy.  This good stuff just slides down your gullet.  You won’t even feel it.”

With that, Vince wobbled off, surely back to the kitchen to indulge in a bit of dessert himself from the way he smacked his lips at the sight of our calorie-laden table.  Jonathan had received the pound cake, and wanted to trade with me right away; his desires seemed to be focused on Galliano’s famous tiramisu.  And focus he did.  He focused his way through the entire sweet plateful, groaning as his belly pumped up into an even more gigantic protrusion right under his softened pecs.  “Excuse me, please.”  Jonathan struggled, but eventually got his heavy ass off his thoroughly warmed chair.  As he straightened his back, his amazingly swollen belly protruded even farther.  A slight bit of relaxation and a sigh caused his pants button to launch in a sudden departure from its severely stressed threads. Jonathan’s taut waistband took the queue and rolled over even more, his big swollen round belly folding belt loops flat in the process.  All in a flash, his zipper, which had already begun to lower itself and taunt me, shot to the bottom of its track, as Jonathan seemed to split out of his pants like a fattened caterpillar. His cheeks reddened as he grabbed for his fly, hurrying into the restroom.

I searched for the button as Marcie gave a chuckle.  “I asked him not to wear his tight pants anymore.  I’m getting tired of sewing those damn buttons on again and again.  I think I’ll get him some of those pants that expand or at least something with stronger buttons.  Vince seems to have the right idea with his Levi’s buttonfly.  Just keep unbuttoning down as his belly grows and gets fuller and fatter.”

“There’s a thought,” I supported.

By this time, the restaurant had emptied out, and we realized that we had been there for hours eating and laughing.  Well, Jonathan had been there for hours eating, and he seemed to have done a good enough job for all of us put together.  He emerged from the restroom holding his fly

together with one hand, as reaching around his very bloated bulging belly with both hands was nearly impossible.  He sat back down with a hefty thud, his belly bouncing seductively.  

“Here’s your button, Jonathan,” I offered, holding my clenched hand across the table.  

“Thanks, guy.  Marcie can sew it on again later.”  There was muffled laughter around the table, and Jonathan realized that it must be with regard to him.  “What?” he asked.  Jonathan shifted his weight around a bit, and reached for the hot fudge sundae.  “You know what?  Bustin’ out of my pants is exactly what I needed to finish off this dessert.”

“Well, you know, Vince brought those desserts for all of us,” Marcie reminded her chunky hubby, who was now well into the melting mass of ice cream.  

“It’s ok, Marcie,” I assured her, “I couldn’t eat any if I wanted to. You all go ahead.”  With that being said, it was then apparent that Jonathan was the only one at the table able to eat dessert, and that fact in itself was fairly surprising.

An incredibly long, loud, and saturated belch soon emerged from the depths of Jonathan’s overpumped spherical belly.  He just sat there leaned into the table on his elbows, his big tree-trunk thighs spread wide, his immense heavy round belly sticking out and stretched to shiny-skinned ecstasy.  With no one really around, Jonathan felt compelled to work his taut shirt up over his belly and park the rolls of material under his meaty pecs.  Then, like watching a beach ball roll down the sand and bump itself against a wall, he reclined himself against the back of his chair.  “So, what do you think of your big ol’ pregnant guy, now?”

“I think he’s had plenty to eat this evening, and the size of his big full belly shows just how much he’s enjoyed himself.”  

“Definitely,” I added, “I feel like I have to burp just lookin’ at ya, Jonathan.”

As if there wasn’t enough visual overload for me, Vince once again rolled out of his kitchen.  This time, it was fairly comical as his belly was so swollen that he could barely wobble his way back over to our table.  Vince’s torturously tight black Levi’s begged to be let go a third button, but Vince didn’t seem to mind his bursting solid round belly’s tender skin being marked by the tight stitching.  Vince wobbled right up to Jonathan’s side and bumped his big full Italian belly into his friend’s cheek.  Jonathan turned to Vince, took the hem of his stretched tank top in each hand and pushed it up off of Vince’s prize-winning paunch.  Jonathan put his hands on the sides of Vince’s enormous solid belly and proclaimed, “damn, as full as I am, I can’t resist some stuffed Italian sausage!” Jonathan spread his jaw open and pushed his gaping mouth against the taut tan skin of Vince’s big belly. Vince was too full for Jonathan to get his mouth set on a healthy bite, and the well-fed Italian chunk laughed.  

“Jonathan, you nut.”  Vince took Jonathan’s handsome goateed face in his hands and gently pushed him away. “I have to admit that it must look pretty damn tempting…like a giant stuffed ravioli or something…”  Vince pushed Jonathan’s shoulders against the back of his chair enough to make the full belly stick out in a most center-stage fashion. Putting his hand on top of the bulge, he thumped Jonathan’s firmly stuffed belly.  “Lordy, talk about your ripe summertime watermelons!  Sure has a nice solid thump to it…must be bursting full of juice.”

“Bursting full is right.  This melon is ready to roll away from the vine.”  Jonathan began to thump his own belly.  “Well, I could choose to complain about how the massive bellyache I have, but I choose instead to wish that I had a bigger belly into which I could pack more of your outstanding cooking, Vince.”  

“Thanks for the compliment, Jonathan.”  Vince pushed against the bloated belly in front of him, giving an impromptu massage.  “God knows that I’ve discovered the advantages of growing and feeding my belly, and it looks like you have too.”

“Marcie is such a good cook.  But now that she’s pregnant, it will probably be more of a chore for her to cook as she gets bigger.”

“Cooking for you is never a chore, honey,” Marcie assured him, “but you’re right about it getting more difficult.”

“Not too worry, Jonathan.  You guys just come in here and I’ll take care of you.  Jonathan, you might want to wear some pants with a little stretch in the waist.”

“That’s good advice, heh, Vince.”  Jonathan then pushed himself up and held his pants shut with his right hand. The exertion caused Jonathan to emit another hearty belch.  “Time to settle up and waddle out, Vince,” he said, beginning to fuss to fetch his wallet.

“Not to worry, guy.  Dinner’s on me tonight.  It was great getting to see you again, and a distinct pleasure getting to stuff so much of my cooking into your belly.”  

“Wow, thanks Vince.  Thanks from the very bottom of my big stuffed belly.”  

Vince gave Jonathan another belly rub as the rest of us thanked our overly generous host as well, making movements toward the door.  Marcie had already grabbed the to-go box, and she and my roommate were the first to reach the door.  I lingered back with the two big-bellied guys, who still admired each other’s fat round paunches with pokes and pats.  “Do come back, Jonathan, you’re just too skinny.  I want to invent some great new dishes and fatten that belly.”

“I’ll see ya, Vince.”

“Bye Jonathan.  Bye Brian.”

Soon we were all outside the restaurant.  “What now, guys?”  I asked.

Jonathan spoke up, “wanna come over and hot tub for awhile?”

Marcie groaned first, then my roommate.  “I’m tired,” came the chorus of whining.  

“Brian, if you want, you can ride over with us, and I’ll take you home later.”

“Sure.  That sounds great!”

From the back seat, I could see Jonathan caressing his fat round belly by the dashboard light.  He belched from time to time, and I think he was glad his car had an automatic transmission as I sensed that he didn’t want to be interrupted from his belly rubbing by having to shift gears.  It was a quick drive to their house, and Marcie was soon enough saying “good night”, yawning, and heading off for their bedroom.  Jonathan had already shed his shoes, socks, and what was left of his pants, and wandered into their kitchen in his stretched underwear.  I followed him into the kitchen, marveling at his perfect ass, then leaned against the counter watching as he quietly opened and closed cupboard doors.

“Hungry, big guy?” I asked, watching the front of his underwear become slightly more tented.

“I shouldn’t be, huh?  After gorging myself like a big ol’ beefer.”  He scratched the lower front of his belly where his tight underwear waistband curved itself low under the immense full belly above.  He hiked his shirt up again to his pecs and stood there with his big round gut sticking out.  

“Well, you are looking pretty corn-fed these days, Jonathan. The holiday season seems to have put a nice chunk of weight on you.”

Jonathan put his hands on the sides of his belly and put forth a subsequently futile effort to squeeze it as he waddled in my direction. “Twenty five pounds since Halloween.  Do you approve?”  He pushed his solid round gut into me, pinning me against the counter.  

I grunted as he breathed in deep and pushed more of his big solid belly into my front.  “Of course, big guy.”  I took his big round belly in my hands and shook it from side to side.  Slowly I turned him around, watching the chubby head of his stiff cock snake along his lower belly. I pulled his perfect ass back against my own hard cock, then I reached around to give his pregnant belly the attention it so richly deserved. “I think your friend Vince approved of your newfound heft as well…”

“Oh that Vince!  Boy, he’s gotten so fat.  I was amazed at how big and round that fat belly of his has gotten…he always had a belly, but nothing compared to now!”  Jonathan softly grunted as I continued massaging his bloated round gut.

“Did you notice how big his belly got by the end of the evening?”

“I did.  His gut was hard as a rock.”

“Like this big gut,” I said, thumping Jonathan’s belly with alternating hands.  “You know, Vince was ready to keep feeding you as long as you were able to stuff it in.”

“I know.  I could tell. I really wanted to eat that plate of special he brought, but my belly was really full.  After you and Marcie fed me what was left of your dinners, I was ready to pop like a tick.”

“How does your belly feel now?”

“Feels pretty good.  Nice and heavy.  In fact…” Jonathan walked over to the miniscule cupboard above the refrigerator and reached up high to open it.  “Marcie doesn’t venture into these cupboards very often.”  Inside was an impressive stash of junk food, including a couple boxes of Entemann’s Pop’ems.  He opened the box and handed it to me.  “I might be hungry for some dessert.”

I put my hand on his swollen belly and pushed him into the family room. “Why don’t you relax on that rug over there by the fireplace?”  As Jonathan grunted around to bend over to get down on the floor, I cast my shoes, socks, and pants aside.  Finally he settled on his back with his mountainous ball of belly protruding up into space; straddling his cock with my ass, I sat down and shifted my weight back and forth on the stiff piece of meat.  “Open up, my big hungry pregnant-bellied guy…”

Once I began stuffing his mouth with the tasty little donuts, he laid his big muscular arms out from his sides, got totally relaxed, and just chewed blissfully.  I was surprised that more food would actually go into his belly, and he kept up pace with my hand that deposited a small donut in his mouth and then traveled back to rub and massage his big round solid belly.  Jonathan’s belly grew taller and wider with each sensuous double-glazed bite, and he put up a fuss when he realized the box was empty.  “More, please.”

“More?”  I asked incredulously, surveying the tight-skinned belly that ballooned before me. I put my hand on top of his tall bulge and pushed down.  Jonathan emitted a startled grunt and spread his legs apart under me, putting more strain on my crotch.  “More, huh?”

“Yeah.  More. Go get some more.”

It took me awhile to separate myself from him, but once I was up, I didn’t waste any time getting another box of Pop’ems.  “My God, Jonathan,” I observed, walking back, “your gut is so awesomely big.”  Straddling him once again, I sat on his throbbing cock as I pushed another tasty morsel of donut into his eager open mouth.  

“Stuff me so full that I can’t move!”  Jonathan implored, chewing his donut-bites faster.  I knew that he was pretty close to immobility as he laid there with his big stretched belly swollen up three sizes, but I happily shoved more donuts into his cute fur-surrounded mouth.  “Would you scratch my belly a little?”

As I fed him, I lavished all of the attention I could muster on his immensely bloated belly.  I scratched it.  I kneaded it. I thumped it. I shook it back and forth. I rubbed it in generous circles. And his belly just kept swelling. His cheeks were reddish as I pushed the last donut in his mouth with my finger.

“Mmmmm.  That’s so good,” Jonathan told me.  “Thirsty. Need some milk.”  

I went back to the kitchen, grabbed the nearly full half-gallon of whole milk, and searched for a turkey baster.  Coming back into the family room, I got a curious look from Jonathan, who just lay on the floor like a bloated-beached whale.  “What are you going to do with that?” he asked. Propping him up behind the shoulders, I filled the baster’s bulb with milk and shoved the pointed tip in Jonathan’s mouth.  Squeezing the bulb filled Jonathan’s mouth full of milk and he swallowed happily.  I squirted milk into him until he let out a tremendous belch and said it was time to stop.  The half-gallon container was much lighter as I picked it up to return to the fridge.  Jonathan continued to lie there looking at me; he was bigger around than ever, gorged too full to even attempt moving a muscle.   I found a little plastic bottle full of lotion on the kitchen counter, and I brought it back with me.

I knelt down by him and poked his big fat gut. “Now how’s that belly feel, guy?”

“Like it’s going to explode, and I love it.  Are you going to rub some of that lotion on my belly?”

“I was thinking about it.  Looks like I need to rub some moisture back into that skin.  It’s stretched tighter than a drum.”

 “Marcie got that lotion for growing pregnant bellies.  She doesn’t need it yet, but I sure do!”

“Yeah, you really do, ya big pregnant stud.”  I squirted some lotion into my hand and rubbed it all over the expanse of Jonathan’s gigantically ballooned belly.

“Lower,” he said.  I rubbed down south of his stretched belly button.  “Lower!”

I peeled his underwear off and grabbed onto his cock with a palmful of lotion.  Jonathan’s legs spread apart a bit more and he began to writhe with pleasure.  His strained abdominal muscles tried to contort, but he couldn’t budge; his shoulders stayed firmly planted on the floor. Just as I went to say something, his cock erupted in a hot fountain of cum that showered down all over his big mountain of a belly.  I got up and straddled his wide body again, this time lowering my throbbing cock right onto his tall mass of belly.  His bellyskin was slippery with the lotion and cum all over it, and my cock reached orgasm as I pushed it against his firmly stuffed belly.   Both of us breathing heavily, I slid off and lay at his side.   We looked at each other, but nothing really needed to be said.

Eventually the silence was broken.  “You realize that you’re gonna have to roll me over on my gut for me to be able to get up, don’t you?”

“Yep.  But there’s no hurry, big guy.”

“You’re right.”  We both smiled at each other.

anonymous asked:

Can we have were hanzo/ normal mccree where is Hanzo showing Mccree his other form? Or reversed with Hanzo seeing Mccrees other form for the first time? If not thats okay, thanks for providing us with amazing fics <3


Sure thing, Nonny! Never done a monster/werebeast!AU, so I’d love to give it a shot! :) Also apologies this took a little longer, I’ve been working on a lot of fics at once! I’m not as completely happy with it as I should be, but I hope it’s not too terrible.

Ship: McHanzo

Setting: New Overwatch (Canon Present)

Rating: SFW

AU: Monster/Werebeast


In all his years of working with Overwatch, Jesse had seen plenty of strange things: talking gorillas from the moon, a time-travelling teenager, a giant of a man who could swing a hammer just as high as he was with ease and who shook the ground whenever he laughed. He’d seen technologies that he could never even have dreamed of as a child and been part of events that had changed the world. More recently, he’d seen long-dead heroes return from the grave, one of whom was more ghost than man and had called everything he’d ever known into doubt; that was about as strange and shocking as Jesse thought it would get.

Then, about a month ago, he’d met Hanzo. Seeing Genji’s return was one of the many strange events on his list, but seeing Genji return alongside the brother that had murdered him was among the strangest of all. Jesse had been sceptical at first, a deeply ingrained paranoia from his Blackwatch days convincing him that it had to be some sort of plot or trap, but the more time he spent around Hanzo and the better he came to know him, the more Jesse found himself trusting the man – and, just maybe, even liking him.

Hanzo was stern – far sterner than Genji had been – and stoic; he rarely said more than he had to and refused to show anything that could be interpreted as weakness, including his emotions. He’d put up walls so high Jesse would need a climber’s kit to scale them, but boy did he want to. The mysterious air around the elder Shimada brother was intriguing and, though Jesse would never admit it aloud, strangely alluring. Handsome, impressive, and mysterious? It would have been criminal of Jesse to not take an interest.  And while Hanzo had avoided him like some awful smell at first, eventually Jesse’s pestering charm had whittled the walls down to fences.

Or he had, at least, temporarily lowered them until their last mission together a week ago, where Hanzo without a word of warning, had gone straight back to his usual, stern self; even worse than he used to be – he barely even looked in Jesse’s direction, if he could help it, and never said a word to him. When Jesse tried to ask him what he’d done wrong, Hanzo just huffed, scowled, and turned away. “You would not understand.”

That was the last thing Jesse had been able to get out of him, and he’d been driving himself mad ever since trying to figure out what it meant.

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adrien and nino are relationship goals

so i was thinking about miraculous lb because heck thats what I usually do when I’m supposed to be doing something productive (spoiler; I don’t do anything productive lmao)

And I just started thinking about what would happen if some homophobic dick joined Ms Bustier’s class??

• See at first it doesn’t show because none of the males are actually that affectionate with each other (and les be honest lots of girls are naturally affectionate, gay or not)

• but then there’s adrien and nino?

• OK so Adrien just really likes hugs? (You can argue with me on that. I will fight you. I will fight you hard) After being love starved af, he takes every opportunity he gets to recieve and/or dish out affection because he’s literal sunshine

• Usually it’s Alya and Marinette (when she stops screaming externally at the sight of him and starts doing it internally instead) and Nino he goes to

• Nino is the best friend ™ and they sit together so if Adrien’s feeling down or needs any sort of comfort, physically, mentally or otherwise, Nino is more than willing to provide.

• so you see, sometimes they can get SUPER affectionate, especially if someone (cough fuckin gabe cough) has upset Adrien or Nino previously.

• Unamed Homophobe’s asshole senses are tingling. They make rude remarks under their breath that no one hears until one day they work up the courage to call Adri + Nino (and at that time adri had his arm around nino (and alya was holding her bf too) bc nino was upset his favourite g.o.t character died or some shit) “disgusting” and “wrong” as the OT4 are walking to the Dupain-Chengs’ bakery

• Marinette (bless her heart) is ready to punch them in their genitals but Alya’s restraining mode is on and she catches her.

• Adrien and Nino just stare at each ther and they’re speechless and also kind of really mad (Nino) and unnerved (Adrien) but mostly super confused because what?? even?

• UH sneers and takes a step back. “Honestly- it’s like normal people are disappearing more and more everyday. Where are all you freaks coming from?”

• At this point Alya rlly wants to set Mari off on the asshat and maybe join her

• But Nino stares at Adrien, and a light bulb sorta metaphorically pops above the guy’s head.

• Nino immediately reaches for Adrien’s hand and intertwines their fingers

• Adrien jolts internally

• Did they hold hands?? Was that a thing people did? He was so confused

• Nino looks at him and winks @ his best friendo

• “I think you’re just mad cause you’re single.” Nino sing songs, and Adrien believes its the worst possible time to quote a Steven Universe song. “Isnt that right, love?” Cue Nino wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

• UH is like? what? this isnt the reaction I was hoping for?? they scurry off in confusion and worry bc marinette still looks ready to rip their nonspecific genderflaps off

• It was meant as a joke but then it got REALLY out of hand with adrien and nino

• It’s like they’re purposely trying to aggravate the UH now

• Next day at lunch they’re sitting with the group and theyre not acting any differently but when the UH passes by their table Nino and Adrien go all like

• “Honey, would you please pass the salt?”

• “Of course, my love.”

• “Thank you, sunshine. This salt shaker is as white and pure as my love for you, have I ever said that?”

• In class, Adrien and Nino are loudly arguing about whether or not they’d have a spring or fall wedding just before Ms Bustier comes in

• Marinette and Alya are eternally amused

• Alya nudges Marinette and says it looks like she’ll have to fight Nino for Adrien

• Marinette replies, saying that Alya will, in fact, have to fight Adrien for Nino now, seeing as the two (Alya and Nino) were actually officially dating.

• The entire class is in on the joke by the end of the first week

• Kim’s like, “Yo! I bet you twenty euros Max and I can pull it off better!”

• Alix started a bet on who will propose first

• Sabrina bet it would be Adrien (as soon as Chloe turned her back that is)

• Turns out it was both of them???

• On the third week Adrien and Nino come to school with their respective boxes

• Nino mock proposes with a lollipop ring

• Adrien actually fucking bought a real ring (no telling how he got that) like cmon he’s also chat noir and when he’s in, hes REALLY in

• Once Nino stops freaking the fuck out because dude that must have cost a fortune and why would he do that,

• Adrien slips into Chat mode and says Nino’s love was worth more to him that gold (and also that he REALLY liked lollipops, which in his opinion were far more likeable and edible than gold)

• When they’re alone though adrien tells him not to worry bc he just took one out of the jewlrey box and there’s 99837487302938848392848 more in there anyway he really doesnt need it

• Once Nino and Adrien “broke up” because Nino shipped Hercules x Lafayette and Adrien liked Peggy x Lafayette

• The class dubbed it “The Catastrophe of the 6th of July”

• During that time, Adrien and Nico would brozone each other so hard

• So fucking hard

• But then the beauty that is Maria x Eliza brings them back together again

• “Adrien I’m sorry about our fight, sweetheart,” Nino says very loudly
at lunch one day. “I should have known you were more precious to me than any fictional pairing. The day we exchanged rings… I knew we were meant to be.”

• “Ah, babe, speaking of the ring… I have a confession to make… I might have sort of ingested our symbol of eternal love.”

• “You ate your fucking engagemnt ring? Adrien Im done. I cant do this anymore.”

• They became the iconic fake gay couple of the class

• God knows how long they put up the act tbvfh.

• One things for sure though, they drove the UH up the freaking wall

• lmao idk this is just super dorky and i can so see them doing this

Cupcakes

Hi! long time no fic from me, like in a year eek! lol  So this was inspired a little bit by a really good fic i read by @finn-nelson-for-the-win , also check out her fic she’s writing its very good. I was shooting for a nice cutie little fluffy Rinn fic to slowly get back into writing but instead it became a full on smutty Rinn fic I blame it on the horny dickheads and not the fact that my mind is just permanently in the gutter lol so anyway enjoy. :) tagging for smut. wc is 2,833

I’m tagging some lovely emus that have asked to be on my forever tag list. Please let me know if you want on or off (you won’t hurt my feelings if you do) the list or if you want me to tag you for one particular story, thanks!

@anitavalija @audisodd @areyousad8118 @absolutelynotnico @annemarieted @blue–green @bitchy-broken @be-strong-fearless @bitchesbecrazy89 @borntosik @celestev31 @crystalgiddings1993 @cant-getno-sleep  @ducky17 @eighty-sixcharlie @emmatationsforall @eveerez @facephase @fantasticab @fizzezlikecherrycola @fuck-sewing-machine  @girl-looking-out-window @huffee-hugsandcoffee @hey1tskat1e @inneedofamoralcompass @i-dream-of-emus @iliy-pop-2  @isthistherightwayround  @kristicallahan @kneekeyta @llexis @lau-vm @lilaviolet @lovinglifeandlivinglove @liliam4066 @luly310 @i88cym @mariamirallegro @milllott @milymargot @mirandasmadeofstone @mmfdftw @mmfdfanfic @montyclifts @nenita1978 @nutinanutshell @parisgirly93 @protectfinnnelson @rafaellabnery @rhi3915 @redprairielily @raeonashadowcaster @she-was-a-street-smart-girl @stinemarine @scumothaearff @voodoomarie @whokicksass @you-are-world-class-i-mean-that   


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Matthew Tkachuk - Dessert (Requested)

Originally posted by wonthetrade

A/N: Enjoy!

Warnings: just a hint of sexy time near the end. 

Word Count: 698

Request: Could you do a matthew tkachuk one where he cooks for you?


Going to be home late, this project is taking forever – xox Y/N

Okay babe, be safe – xx Matt

You put your phone down and tried to muster up some motivation to join your team again to finish this project that you guys needed to finish. It was the last thing standing between you and your degree and yet you couldn’t seem to get into it. Your semester felt longer than usual and all you really wanted to do was hand in this project and then curl up in Matthew’s arms. 

It was about 2 am when you finally walked into your apartment building. The project was done and you felt like there had been a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. You climbed up the stairs to your apartment and expected to be greeted by a quiet and dark apartment but you walked into a fully lit home. 

“Matt?” you called out.

“In the kitchen” he answered. You turned into the kitchen to see Matt wearing your pink cupcake apron and some loose shorts but nothing else. He was stirring something in pot on the stove and had quiet music playing in the background. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you asked, trying to remember if tomorrow was a game day. 

“Day off tomorrow” he smiled “grab a seat,” he said and pointed to your kitchen table which was set and had lit candles all around it making it very romantic. You took a seat and Matt came to you with two glasses of wines in his hand. He handed one to you and held his close to yours “cheers baby girl, I am so proud of you” he smiled and clinked the glasses together. 

“Thank you,” you said before taking a sip of the wine. 

“Supper will be ready in 5 minutes,” he said and went back to his pots and pans. 

“I’ll be right back then; I’m just going to go get changed” 

You walked into your shared bedroom and grabbed Matts t-shirt off the chair in the corner and grabbed a pair of your pajama shorts. You quickly changed and headed to the bathroom to take your make up off and take your hair out of the braid it had been in all day. When you walked back into the kitchen Matt was placing the dishes on the table; he had made all your favorites. 

“Thank you for all this” you smiled and wrapped your arms around Matt’s waist, kissing his back. 

“It’s not every day that your beautiful girlfriend finishes school, I just want you to know that I’m proud of you.” 

“If you think I look beautiful right now you need to get glasses” you laughed and took your seat.

“You always look beautiful, but when you’re like this is when I find you most beautiful. Just you, no make-up and your hair running wild, just my t-shirt and some short shorts covering you; there’s nothing better than that” he smiled and joined you at the table.  Everything Matt made was delicious and you wondered how many times he had called his mother for help while he was cooking. He even stopped by your favorite bakery to pick up chocolate cake which you guys didn’t even take plates out for. Instead, you just put the cake in between you and took turns feeding each other. 

Once you guys were done Matt picked up everything off the table and did the dishes after arguing with you about it for a couple minutes. 

“Let me treat you,” he said as he ushered you to the couch with a fresh glass of wine in your hand. You laid back on the couch, your head resting on a stack of pillows and your feet stretched out in front of you. You were close to drifting off to sleep when Matt joined you, lifting your feet and letting them rest on his thighs. He started to massage your feet, which extracted a small moan from you. 

“Take me to bed Mr. Tkachuk,” you said setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. 

“As you wish,” Matt said and scooped you up into his arms, shutting the bedroom door behind you with a kick of his foot.

anonymous asked:

how the band reacts to their s/o being brought up in an interview (not in a negative way! maybe the interview just asks about them)

Murdoc:

  • He immediately starts bragging about how great you are to the interviewer. 
  • Let’s be honest, he probably slips in a dirty joke about the two of you more than once. 
  • Eventually, though, he goes on to talk about how wonderful you are, and what an amazing impact you’ve had on his life, and how thankful he is for you.

2D:

  • When asked about you, 2D would probably go “oh, shit,” and realise that he forgot to text you back two hours ago. He texts you back in the middle of the interview.
  • He tells the interviewer that you’ve been his source of inspiration for the a few of the songs on the new album.
  • He goes on to say how the two of you have many plans for the future. He also probably tells an embarrassing story of how you got your foot stuck in the washing machine once–he means well!

Russel:

  • His face immediately lights up when the interviewer asks about you, and he’s quite happy that the interviewer cares enough to ask about how you’re doing.
  • He tells the interviewer what an amazing person you are, inside and out, and how you’re one of the kindest souls he’s ever met. 
  • He also jokingly tells the interviewer that they’re invited to yours’ and Russel’s wedding, whenever that may be.

Noodle:

  • When the interviewer asks about you, Noodle would probably start chuckling at something funny you had said a few days ago, and would talk about how you always make her laugh.
  • She talks about a few of the adventures the two of you have had together.
  • She also goes on to say how the two of you are practically an old married couple already. You argue about who is going to do the dishes most nights and you fall asleep at 8pm while watching soap operas.
The Underground, Ch10

Hey friends, I’m back. Have another chapter (and some smut - you can have that too). xx

Read it on FF or on AO3


After the New Year, everything started, miraculously, to fall into place. It almost seemed too good to be true, but Lily figured if she didn’t acknowledge it, then nothing horrible would happen to compensate for all her ridiculous good fortune.

She ended up, after a completely nerve-wracking interview with Minerva McGonagall, getting that job in the Foreign Office. She’d worn her emerald green dress with a smart blazer and had, after calling everyone else, called Euphemia to thank her, again, for such a gorgeous gift. Euphemia had just laughed into the phone, said, “Of course you got it, you’re brilliant, Lily. I’ll be in London next week to see James’ new exhibit. I’ll take you to lunch to celebrate.”

Lily felt a small twinge of guilt for beginning to like Euphemia more than she liked her own mother, but it was a small one and it passed fairly quickly.

Lily started work the week after her interview. She had worked in the FCO years ago and, thus, should have been used to Westminster, but Lily was (embarrassingly) over-the-moon about being back in government after her time away. She’d spent the first week (or so) screaming inside her head about THERE’S DOWNING STREET OH MY FUCKING GOD but eventually, she managed to settle down a bit. It helped, of course, that Minerva ran a tight ship and was soon working Lily into the ground. Lily, nutter that she was, absolutely loved every minute of it.

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3

breakfast

Clinking of cutlery against porcelain “So no more Starbucks for you then?” Poe wants to know.  “Nope they sacked me for just leaving without a word the day I found out about my parents, but i’m going to start looking for something else today”

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anonymous asked:

Promnis Prompt: Fever

Promnised Prompt Night #18: Fever

Noun: An abnormally high body temperature, usually accompanied by shivering, headache, and in severe instances, delirium.

Verb: To bring about a high body temperature or a state of nervous excitement in (someone).

(Note: Watch me visibly restrain myself from writing a super-long fic about Band AU boys okay.)

The show is long and gruelling, and it’s only a metric ton of cold medicine and weed that keeps Prompto semi-vertical through the haze of his flu. The show seems to stretch into forever. Bass in hand, propped against the back of the stage, Prompto pulls a performance from the depths of his ass.

When the frontman – Noctis – shouts a firm, “Good night Altissia!” he staggers off the stage and collapses into the nearest toilet.

“Dude, you do not look good,” Crowe comments from the sink where she touches up her eyeliner. The cramped backstage restroom sits them a bare few inches apart, walls covered in crude graffiti and a few sloppy autographs that might be worth something. “Too bad we can’t find a backup. What’s the deal, by the way? Nyx said you weren’t going to be driving up with us.”

Prompto shakes his head weakly, trying not to shiver at the sensation of vomit trailing down his chin. “Noct has a friend in the area I’m gonna crash with. She’s gonna take me to the airport at the end of the week. I’ll meet you guys in Lestallum.”

“Noctis? Friends?” Crowe gasps in mock alarm. “And here I thought you were the only lucky soul.”

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Quan Zhi Gao Shou | King’s Avatar Fic: In which Shaotian makes observations about Wenzhou’s hands.

Title: These Broken Hands of Mine
Fandom: The King’s Avatar / Quan Zhi Gao Shou
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Yu/Huang (Wenzhou/Shaotian)
Summary: Five times Shaotian makes observations about Wenzhou’s hands + one time Wenzhou keeps Shaotian’s hands warm.
Rating: Part v. is NSFW; otherwise it’s PG
A/N: Based on @andthenabanana‘s precious Yu/Huang HCs! I’m still reading the novels so I’m writing this based on the knowledge I have of the anime only. If there are inaccuracies in the fic, please forgive me!

Writing Commission | Editing & Translation Services

i.

Huang Shaotian hates it when people teases his captain about his hands — “crippled”, they call him, often accompanying the comment with sympathetic gazes. Even if it isn’t meant to be derogatory, just a harmless joke, even if the captain himself laughs it off because he’s so used to it already, Shaotian still hates it.

“Let me go teach those bastards a lesson, captain, come on, come on, come on! I won’t let them get away with dissing Blue Rain’s brilliant leader like that! I’ll kick their ass so hard they won’t even know what’s coming for them—”

“Shaotian,” he calls his name with his usual tone — frustratingly calm, like the mirror surface of a summer lake, undisturbed by the wind. The two syllables are enough to shut the other man up, and from his seat at the computer, Wenzhou looks over at his vice-captain and gives him a reassuring smile, an expression Shaotian has seen so many times, before shifting his attention back to the game.

The captain doesn’t need his protection, Shaotian knows that — knows Wenzhou well enough that even without a terrifying hand speed, the man can carry himself and his team using clever tactics and deliberate strategies. He doesn’t doubt Wenzhou’s strength and prowess in Glory.

Shaotian finishes off his opponents within about fifteen seconds, but he does so in a surprisingly quiet manner. As he stands up and stretches, his gaze falls onto Wenzhou’s figure: he has his headphones on, and he’s completely immersed in the game before him, his fingers tapping out a gradual but melodic rhythm that has Shaotian mesmerized.

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Happy anniversary (Chibs-Sons of Anarchy)

Request 1: One year anniversary with chibs please? Fluffy and smut if u want 😘😘

Request 2: chibs smut

Request 3: Sensual chibs smut 

So i decided to mix this 3 requests together as they were very similar. I hope you like the little twist  i put on the imagine. (Smut) 

-


“Happy anniversary Fillip.” I smiled walking up to my old man and wrapping my arms around his neck before stepping on my tip toes and pressing a kiss on his lips. 

“Happy anniversary, Mo ghaol.” He smiled down at me, using my favourite nickname, which in Scottish meant my love.

“I know you aren’t big on celebrating this kind of thing, so don’t worry I’m not expecting anything, but I am planing to make us both a nice dinner so please be home by 7.’‘ 

’'Anything for you.” He said kissing my forehead before heading out the door.

-

Finally finished preparing dinner i sat down at the table and poured myself a glass of whine, proud of how the dinner turned out. I was never the one to stay home and be a house wife but now and again i enjoyed taking a day off to just make a nice dinner and relax. And since it was summer and the school was out i had  vacation, which was nice. I love teaching little kids but it can be overwhelming at times so the summer break is much needed for us all to get a break from one another. 

“Hey.” I smiled as I saw Chibs walk in to the house.

“Hey. Wow. What did you make? It smells heavenly.” He took off his jacket and sit behind the table as i walked over and sat on the opposite end. 

-

“It was amazing!” He smiled as he finished the dessert. 

“Thanks.’' 

’'So, I have something for you as well.’' 

’'What?” I was taken back. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“But I wanted to.” He said,reaching in to his jacket and pulling out a peace of paper before giving it to me. “I know how much you want to go to Paris.”

“You didn’t!” I couldn’t help but smile as I saw two plane tickets in my hand.

“I take it you like it?” I could hear that proud smirk in his voice.

“I love it!” I jumped up, running around and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

-

Next morning we woke up bright and early to catch our plane to France. 

“I can’t believe I’m here.” I was speechless as we got off the plane.

“Believe it, Mo ghaol.” He said throwing his arm around my shoulder as we steeped on a bus. There was about a 2 hour drive to our hotel and it was about 3 AM by the time the bus started driving in the direction of the city of love. 

-

No one really likes bus rides. The buses are usually packed, uncomfortable and there is always a child crying somewhere near you, or a couple arguing about who’s turn it is to do the dishes today, a group of guys calling each other bro or dude for no particular reason…

However I like taking the bus. You can see so many different  people, all lost in their own little world. Bus rides are especially nice at night, where there is no one screaming, some people are sleeping, some are listening to music and tapping their fingers to the rhythm of the song that no one but them hears. 

It was around 4:30 AM, when Chibs woke up from her little nap. 

‘‘Morning.’‘ I smiled. I was never the one to sleep in the car, so the whole bus ride I listened to music and looked out the window at the pretty lights form the unknown beautiful cities we were passing. 

‘‘What’s the time?’‘ 

‘‘About 30 more minutes till we reach our destination.“ I told him, knowing what he really wanted to know. He hated driving in a car let alone a bus. 

‘‘Wow we still have a long way to go.’‘ He said, keeping his  voice a whisper, careful not to wake up any of the other people on the bus. 

‘‘Oh c'mon that’s not that long.’‘ I pulled the blanket we shared closer to me. It wasn’t really cold, but it did make me feel cozier to have it over us both.   

‘‘Is everyone asleep?’‘

‘‘Yeah seems…well and sounds like it.’‘ I smiled as we heard a snor from somewhere behind us.

‘‘You okay?’‘ He asked as i stretched, rubbing the back of my neck.

‘‘Yeah I’m fine, just a bit stiff.’‘

‘‘Here. Turn around.’‘ Chibs  said, making me turn around so I was now facing the window, and my back was pressed against him. Thank god this bus was so spacious.

He started to rub my shoulders, his thumbs pressing against the nape of my neck and his fingers gently pressing against my shoulders. I let out a sigh. It felt so good, so relaxing. 

‘’Is this okay?’’ 

‘’It’s amazing.’’ I whisper back with a smile on my face, my eyes closing.

‘’Oh this is nothing, yet.’’ His voice was low and raspy making me shiver.

‘’Huh?’‘ 

‘’Just relax.’’ He said and I obeyed. I let his fingers massage down my back, letting myself enjoy the exchange of hard and soft  movements of his hands against my back. 

Soon his hands made her way under my shirt. Now his fingers were sliding and gliding all over my bare back, no restrictions, no friction. Just skin on skin. 

Lost in my thoughts I almost didn’t notice his hands making their way to my stomach and then upward, soon my breasts were cupped by his hands and i held in my breath, not sure what to think of it, we were in a relatively full bus of people.

‘‘Relax, it’s okay.’‘ Filip whispered just as he started kissing the side of my neck. 

‘‘We’re on a bus..’‘ 

‘‘I know. It’s okay. Everyone’s asleep.’‘ He ensured me and I couldn’t help but relax in to His embrace, leaning back against him. 

His round hands made their way downward again, one of them slipping under the waist band of my leggings, pushing them down my legs just enough so His hand could now grip my inner thigh, letting his fingers run small circles over them. 

After a minute of teasingly letting his fingers drift over the line of my thong and my thighs he pulled my black thong down as well. 

With the blanket still somewhat covering me, the excitement of being caught was still at the back of my mind and I let Chibb' fingers spread the wetness of my pussy over my clit, which he slowly started to circle, making me throw my head back, letting it rest on his shoulder. 

His free hand gently grabbed my chin, turning my head in His direction. Our lips connected, for which i was thankful. Now, that my mouth was busy kissing his i couldn’t make too much sound, risking us getting caught. 

His fingers felt warm against my skin, hot even. His slow and steady movements were driving me insane. 

The fact that there were people (most of which none of us  knew) less than meter away made it feel dangerous, exciting, better.

I was getting close, i could feel my body tensing up. The quickly approaching climax was so close.. I could almost taste it.

‘’Good morning’’  A loud voice said over the speaker making Filip pull his hand away quickly, and turning me back to my normal position.

I didn’t even knew what happened, I was in such a shock. The lack of skin contact was almost painful and i couldn’t help but to let out a quiet cry. 

‘‘Good morning everyone, did you all sleep well?’‘ Te voice over the speaker said again, louder this time. It was followed by a series of yawns and moans of annoyance from everyone woken up by it. 

I grumpily let out a sigh and pull up my panties and leggings.

‘‘Aww don’t worry’‘ Chibs whispered, ‘‘We’ll continue this later.’‘ before kissing my shoulder and focusing on the voice coming from the speaker. 


.

Request here!

Masterlist here!

,

.

So i wanted to try a first person speaker, i dont know how i feel about it. But i hope you liked this semi fluffy semi smutty imagine :) 

anonymous asked:

Please can I get a Nick Clark imagine where you're secretly dating bc you're Alycia's best friend but then she finds out and he ends up introducing you to the rest of his (dysfunctional) family as his girlfriend, thank you :)

So this is set pre-apocalypse because that was the only way I could see this story working. I hope it’s to your liking!


It was Sunday and you were having your weekly dinner with the Clarks, Travis and his son, Chris. Your Sunday dinner tradition started way back in 5th grade when you and Alicia had become instant best friends, what with her being the new kid and whatnot. She had invited you round for dinner one Sunday, and it just kind of went on from there. Now, a good 7 years later, that tradition was still going strong.

You were sat next to Alicia and opposite Nick who was next to Chris, while Travis and Madison took up either end of the table. The chatter was light and fun and the atmosphere was warm and you felt completely at ease with this family.

“So, Y/N,” You hear Travis speak up, “How’s school going?”

You quickly finish the food in your mouth and give a small shrug. “It’s school, I guess. I mean, my grades are good. Well, except for Math… I’ve never been too keen on that subject. But other than that, not too bad. Thanks for asking.”

“I hope Alicia’s not too much of a bad influence on you in class.” Madison jokes and you feign a pained expression.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe. She’s a terrible influence, the absolute worst. Probably the reason I’m not doing well in Math class.” You hear laughter around the table and you turn to Alicia, a serious and stern look set on your face. “Alicia, I don’t think we can be friends anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”

Alicia turns back to her food with a look of indifference. “That’s fine. I’ll find a new best friend. It’ll be hard, but not impossible. I can’t say I won’t miss you, but it’s your loss.” You see a hint of a smile play on her lips and you turn your attention back to everyone at the table.

“No really, though. She’s a great friend, Madison. She helps out when I need her to and she’s doing really well herself.”

“Well I’m glad you’re telling me this because when I ask her how she’s doing at school, it’s either ‘fine’ or ‘good’. Never anything more than that.”

“You can always count on me to keep you up to date.”

“Talk about sucking up…” You hear Alicia mumble and you nudge her with you shoulder. She just glares at you in return and you laugh.

Silence consumes the table, and it’s the comfortable kind. Where you know you can relax and just enjoy the food. But you’re suddenly thrown way off when you feel a foot rubbing your calf. You glare across the table at Nick who just carries on eating like he’s not playing fucking footsies with you under the table where his family is sitting.

You quickly glance around at everyone to make sure no one notices, because right now it feels like all eyes are on you. Which they aren’t, and Nick’s foot slowly creeps up further and it takes everything you have in you to not kick him in the shin for being an idiot. He eventually reaches that sensitive spot just above your knee, and before you can control it, you knee jerks and crashes into the underside of the table. Some drinks spill over just a bit and the cutlery clangs loudly and you wince, mostly in embarrassment, partly in pain.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Madison asks, her voice laced with concern and you shoot her an apologetic smile.

“It… It’s nothing, I just, uh… I had this um, shooting pain in my leg. It gets like that sometimes.” You hope no one can see the blush you can feel creeping up your neck. “I’m sorry.”

You look around the table and your eyes linger a little too long on Nick, who’s looking down at his plate with a smirk. Your eyes narrow just a bit and you miss the way Alicia watches intently between the two of you.

“No, don’t be sorry.” Travis says. “You sure you’re alright?” You simply nod. “Okay, well if everyone’s finished, Chris, Alicia, it’s your turn to do the dishes this week.”

Chris is just about to protest when you interrupt. “No, I’ll do it!” You say, a little too eagerly. “You know, it does my leg good to move about. I honestly don’t mind.” You get up and start collecting the empty plates.

“No, Y/N sit down, please. You’re our guest. Chris and Alicia can do the dishes.” Madison says.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” You argue, “It’ll do my leg good to move about, even if it’s just to the kitchen.”

“I’ll help.” You hear Nick pushing his chair back, starting to collect cups and condiments. You don’t argue. No one else does, either.

“Alright, well, I guess we’ll move to the living room. Watch some TV.” Travis is the first to get up and Madison follows after thanking you. Chris grabs his phone and says something about going out with some friends and Alicia offers help, which you decline. She tells you to come to her room once you’re done and leaves.

You miss the knowing smirk on her face as she walks down the hallway.


Not 10 minutes later, you’re pressed up against the kitchen counter, Nick’s body trapping yours as he trails kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer. You try your best to stifle a moan when he nips and sucks at the sensitive skin where your neck dips to meet your shoulder, and you have to try even harder when his tongue darts out to soothe over the already forming bruise.

He slowly makes his way back up your neck and you suddenly grow weary, not wanting anyone to walk in. You put your hands on his shoulders to push him gently, and he pulls away, breathless.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He asks, face suddenly etched with worry.

“No, no,” You shake your head, “I just don’t want anyone walking in on me making out with my best friends brother.”

“Why don’t we just tell them?” He asks.

You hop up onto the counter, “What?”

“Tell them, you know, that we’re dating?”

You sigh, “It’s not that simple, Nick. I don’t want to tell everyone and then have Alicia freak out about it. You know I would’ve told everyone by now but she’s my best friend, has been for seven years. I really don’t want things to get weird between us.”

Nick comes to rest his forearms on the counter on either side of your thighs, looking straight up at you, “I understand. How about we drop it into a conversation casually? Be like ‘oh hey Alicia’,” He tries to imitate your voice, terribly you may add, “‘Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I was dating your superbly handsome brother who is also great in bed and is just overall the best person alive?’”

You can’t help but laugh, “Don’t flatter yourself babe. I definitely wouldn’t say something like that to your sister. But casually asking her about it seems like a good idea. See what her reaction is. If it’s good, we tell her right there and then. If not, then we’ll see.”

“We’re so smart when we work as a team.”

“I’m smart anyway.”

“That you are.” He smiles. He leans in and captures your lips with his own and you kiss back, more eager than last time, and your make out session from before resumes.

Although, it seems all the weariness flew from your mind at the wrong time.

“I fucking knew it.”

You freeze and your eyes fly open. You see Alicia standing in the doorway behind Nick and you shove him away and hop off the counter.

 “Hey ‘Lysh. What’s up?”

“Don’t you ‘hey ‘Lysh’ me Y/N. Why didn’t you guys tell me?” She looks at Nick, who just stands awkwardly by the fridge. “I mean come on, Nick. We tell each other everything.” Now she looks to you. “We tell each other everything, too! Why didn’t you tell me this? I had to figure it out because you were playing footsies under the damn dinner table.”

“Wait, how-”

“I just knew, okay? Shooting pains in your leg my ass.”

“Are you upset?” You ask quietly, and she looks at you like you’ve suddenly grown a second head.

“What? Why would I be upset?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just ‘cause I’m your best friend and Nick’s your brother… It might have weirded you out a bit…”

“No way.” She says as she makes her way over and hugs you. “I’m just a little bitter that you guys didn’t tell me.” Alicia’s voice is muffled against your shoulder and you’re just about to say something when you hear Nick yell ‘group hug!’ and bear hugs the both of you. It’s uncomfortably tight and you and Alicia struggle out of his grip.

“How long?”

“About three months now.” Nick answers straight away, and you’re a bit surprised by how fast he came out with it.

Alicia whistles, seemingly impressed. “You certainly kept that secret. I don’t know whether or not to be worried…” She laughs. “You’re gonna tell Mom and Travis now though, right?” Alicia asks, looking between you and Nick.

You see Nick smile and nod vehemently. Without a word he grabs your hand and leads you into the living room where Travis and Madison are lounging, and you don’t feel as nervous as you thought you might. Nick stops in front of the TV and laces his fingers with yours and you can see Alicia standing behind the sofa smiling like a proud mother.

“Mom, Travis. This is Y/N.”

Both adults look confused. “We know, Nick. She’s-”

“My girlfriend.”

Much to your surprise, and you’re not sure why, neither Travis nor Madison looked shocked or upset. You felt instantly relieved, but confusion takes over when they both burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, hinting at a smile a little yourself.

“We had an inkling, but we didn’t want to assume.” Madison says once they’d calmed down.

“But either way,” Travis joins, “ We’re very happy for the both of you.”

You cringe, “Were we really that obvious?”

“No. But it’s a Mom’s intuition. We just know this stuff.” Madison said proudly.

You feel Nick tug on your hand a little, “See? Nothing to worry about.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before turning back to Travis and Madison. “Madison. Travis. Thanks for your time. We’re gonna hang out in Alicia’s room now.”

And with that, the three of you leave the room, and Alicia never lets you live this day down.

Jerejean Fake Dating 3/3

Here it is! The conclusion! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing! @rikomoriyamaofficial@beanmoreau@faintlyglow

Part 1 Here

Part 2 Here

Follow the read more!


Jean wakes the next morning feeling warm, which is odd. The second thing he notices as he opens his eyes is that he now has a face full of Jeremy’s hair, as Jeremy has somehow ended up resting his head on Jean’s shoulder. He shifts sleepily, trying to follow the warmth of Jean’s body as he moves.

Jean swallows hard against the sudden tightness in his throat. His first instinct in his not awake state is to want to kiss Jeremy’s forehead, but he manages to stop himself. He already made one indiscretion with how close he’d come to kissing Jeremy in private yesterday, he didn’t need to make it worse.

Instead, he quietly crawled over Jeremy to get out of bed, tucking the covers back over Jeremy as he made a distressed noise. He throws one of Jeremy’s sweaters on and heads downstairs, only to find Jeremy’s mother awake and starting to get things out for breakfast.

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How To Keep Loving Someone

You have to love someone in the cracks between the big moments. You have to grab their hand when you’re sitting on the couch watching Shark Tanktogether and you have to give them a little knowing look that says, “I see you and I love you here in the mundane moments of our life.” You have to understand who you are, to dive deep into the wounds of your past so that you don’t bring those wounds into the present. You need to know when it’s about you or when it’s about them. You have to carry your own pain.

It’s easy to fall in love with someone, to bask in newly-minted intimacy and lose yourself in the romance. It’s easy to start a love. It’s the staying part. The keeping part. The difficulty comes in the life plus love part, when you’re trying to squish two people together to make a unit.

When life enters the picture — bills and payments and jobs and stress and divided attentions — that’s when love starts to feel less like a romance and more like a battle. This is when the best of intentions fall to dust, when two people who used to spend a day in bed with their bodies intertwined are arguing about the dishes — as if the dishes ever matter all that fucking much.

To keep loving someone is an art. The start is the easiest part. To keep loving someone, you have to suspend the present moment in your mind and remember why you decided to love this person in those first glittery months of newness. You have to be in love when you don’t feel any particular tenderness, when bills are late or the trash hasn’t been emptied or you’re feeling underappreciated or when the ugly monsters from your past have convinced you that what happened then — whatever heartbreak exists in your memory — is here and real and will happen again. You have to pretend to be in love when you’re terrified of disappointment, of trusting someone, of believing that the person you’re waking up next to won’t ruin you, because they could.Love is being acutely aware of how quickly someone could ruin you.

To keep loving someone is to know yourself and to know how your past weaves a story in your present. How the relationship you did or did not have with your parents informs the relationship you have with your partner — regardless of whether you want it to or not. To keep loving someone you must examine yourself. You can’t blame again and again and again. You cannot be a victim to your life. Sometimes you have to realize the problem is, in part, you.

To keep loving someone is to be exposed to a mirror image of how fucked up you might be and to have to keep facing that image over and over and over. To keep loving someone is to fight to deny the part of you that will always secretly believe you are unworthy of love, to not let that insidious little worm of a belief make its way into your consciousness and lay flame to your love, to your life.

To keep loving someone deeply and truly is to see your own self nakedly and to — as crazy as it is — show that naked self to another person. To expose that person to who you are, underneath the masks and the defenses and the walls. To so intimately and bravely say, “This is me. Take me as I am.” And then hope they do not walk away from that, from you, from the real you.

To keep loving someone is an act of bravery. While it deals with matters of the heart, it is not for the lighthearted. There is nothing weak about loving someone. Nothing timid about it. It is for the strong, the ones willing to let love ruin them.

Love is for the ones who will risk being rejected in the hope of being seen. These are the warriors, the ones not willing to give up on another person. The ones who will not hold their partner to an impossible standard without analyzing themselves first. The ones who will not blame, but will solve — together. The ones who, despite living in Disposable Culture, will not dispose of a person for some far-off idealization of a perfect person.

The ones who say — you are my person — and who will fight to make it work because love is worth fighting for. The ones who do not put their lofty ideas of happiness onto another person’s shoulders, but vow to make themselves happy first and then share it with a person who does the same. The ones who know the difference between a love worth going all in for and a love that is unnecessarily dampening them, a love that is depleting the both of them. The ones who will know when to walk away and when to stay. Who will walk or stay when it’s needed. The ones who will tell the truth — to themselves, especially, because it starts there.

To keep loving someone is a challenge for the strong-willed, the ones willing to stare down fear and best it every time. It’s a badge of honor — to keep a love alive. It takes all you have, but the beautiful things always do.

- Jamie Varon