#yeah I gained some weight over the holidays
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Taking a Few for the Team
I've always had a fantasy about a sports team breeding one of the players, transferring all their fat to the one player. It's a work in progress, but here's the first part! Contains male weight gain & sex, and some bloating/gas.
Part two is here.
Exhausted, Aaron made his way out of his last class of the semester. Walking outside onto the cold winter afternoon, he admired how nice the snow looked across his college campus. Unfortunately, there was no snow on the indoor soccer field. His coach had insisted that the team practice tonight one last time before winter break.
Even though he only considered himself to be an average player on his team, Aaron enjoyed soccer. It was nice to have something going on other than his classes, and Aaron got along well with his teammates. His best friend Jess would always poke fun at him asking when he was going to hook up with the other players since they always acted so gay around each other. He didn’t mind though, since they were all cool with him being out as gay. His teammates would joke about it sometimes but only ever in jest.
He made his way back to his apartment he shared with Jess to grab his soccer bag, then he was off to practice. It went like any other, but near the end his coach made a point to tell all the boys they had better make sure and watch what they ate over the holiday break. “I don’t need you all to have to go harder at practice than you already will when you get back.” He figured he was being self-conscious, but Aaron felt like that statement had been directed at him. He was sure the coach made the most eye contact with him when he said that to everyone.
At 5’11 and fairly muscular, he was still definitely athletic. But with exams and everything going on, Aaron found himself stress eating more than usual. He had gained about 10 pounds since the start of the semester. It didn’t bother him, if anything it was just a good bulk that he could cut and gain some muscle mass if he hit the gym hard enough over the break. But his already small uniform shorts were definitely struggling with his slightly larger butt. His tops were definitely tighter too, but if he sucked in his belly it wasn’t too noticeable.
“Shit, I was really looking forward to eating good the next couple of weeks,” said Jared in the locker room after practice. “But you guys heard him, if I can’t then you can’t either.”
Jared is the team captain, who Aaron had a crush on. He was tall and muscular, and somehow ever so slightly tan even in the winter. He was assertive but also kind and understanding. It’s no wonder the team looked up to him.
“My girlfriend’s mom makes the best desserts! What coach doesn’t know won’t hurt him” complained Trevor. With a great sense of humor, he and Aaron were pretty good friends. Aaron was also a pretty good wingman for Trevor, which he appreciated.
“Yeah it’ll be hard. I’m not sure what I’ll do when my mom makes her famous pork roast. But think of how much better shape we’ll be in compared to the other teams once spring season starts” said Jared.
“Shit, you two are making me hungry” said Aaron as he took off his top.
“Look, just don’t overdo it, man” said Jared. Aaron could have sworn that Jared shot a quick glance at Aaron’s belly, but just like before he tried to write it off as being self-conscious.
He finished changing and headed back out into the cold night. On his drive home, he thought about his workout plans for the break. Like most of the other guys, he and his family both lived nearby to the school, so it’s not like he would have to give up the gym for a month. But also in the back of his mind, he knew that it wouldn’t matter, he probably wouldn’t go anyway.
—----------------------------
The last couple days of break came faster than he expected. Aaron was seriously not ready for classes and soccer practice to start back up again. In between hanging out with Jess and also his family, Aaron had spent a few nights drinking beers and playing video games with Trevor. It was nice to become closer as friends. But also, to hang out without feeling pressure from the team about somehow gaining more weight. He knew Trevor didn’t care, but Aaron was terrified about how he was going to explain to the coach why he could barely squeeze into his shorts and jersey.
Trying it on before their practice that night, Aaron could see in his mirror that there was now no hiding the fact that he did not spend a minute in the gym all month. Or that he had completely ignored his coach’s advice not to overindulge in his mom’s delicious cooking. His shorts were straining to cover his now very round ass, and his jersey was completely showing off his new belly and love handles. His pecs were now larger looking as well. “Dammit!” he muttered to himself. He was definitely a little chubby now. But even though he was nervous about his team’s judgment, somehow he felt a bit sexier? He’d always liked men with some meat on their bones, but had never really considered that look for himself. But damn, something about how he was filling out his uniform made his shorts even tighter…
But without much time to think about it, he rushed out the door to get to practice. Somehow he was already running late.
After getting to practice, Aaron was relieved. It looked like all the other guys had spent the holiday more or less exactly like he did. Especially Jared, who now had a bit of a pudgy belly along with slightly pronounced love handles under his jersey. He liked to wear a smaller size to show off his muscles Aaron suspected, but now it was just showing off his mom’s many desserts he had eaten.
Coach definitely noticed the guys’ different physiques as well, and seemed irritated that the team was doing their exercises slower than usual. At the end of practice, after a short conversation with Jared, the coach pulled all the guys into a quick meeting.
“Look, I know I told you boys not to overdo it with eating over the break…” said the coach, with an exasperated tone in his voice “but this is ridiculous. We are going to have to do something about it.”
“Yes coach…” the team said meekly, knowing full well what they had done.
“So here is the deal. Jared and I have come up with a plan to get you boys back in shape in time for spring season. Be ready to do whatever it takes! That’s it for today’s practice, but it won’t be as easy next time!”
While changing in the locker room, Aaron reflected on what coach had told them. ‘Do whatever it takes?’ Aaron was already dreading the next practice and he hadn’t even left this one. Being the chubbiest one on the team, he knew whatever coach had in store was not going to be easy.
“Way to go, fatass” Trent said angrily, poking Aaron in his soft belly. “Now we are going to have to work out twice as hard because of you.” Trent was a player that could get pretty heated in the game, but Aaron had never had Trent get confrontational with him off the field. So this was definitely a first that Aaron didn’t know how to handle.
“I… I don’t…” stammered Aaron, blushing a little in embarrassment. He didn’t know what to do.
“Whoa calm down man” Trevor came and stood between the two. “Look, we’ve all put on a few over the holiday. I know I at least have a little beer belly now.” Trevor said, making a point to grab the little bit of belly fat he had gained and laughed. “It’s all good. We’ll get back in shape in no time.”
“He’s right, it’s not the end of the world” chimed in Jared. “Coach and I put a plan together, and it’ll definitely be faster than a normal training regimen. We should do great this season.”
“And how the hell are we going to pull that off?” demanded Trent “Other than working out twice as hard, what are we supposed to do?”
“We haven't worked out the formula just yet, but I’m sure we can do it. Just listen to me and coach. We have a plan.” said Jared, with more of his assertive-team-captain tone than before. He was still positive as usual, but Trent could tell this conversation was over.
Formula? That was an odd choice of words, thought Aaron later that night. What did he mean?
All Aaron knew was Trent poking his belly and calling him a fatass earlier was somehow… insanely hot. Fuck, why was it so hot!? If Trevor hadn’t stood in front of him, his boner in his boxer briefs would have been on full display for the whole team to see. Thankfully his normally eight incher was now slightly smaller from his new encroaching fat pad.
That night, he beat himself off grabbing his belly and playing that scene over and over in his head…
The next day, Aaron got a group text from Jared.
'Hey everyone, team meeting tonight at my place. Be there at 7.'
'Damn' Aaron thought to himself. 'What is so important we couldn't have gone over it yesterday?!'
Regardless, team meetings at Jared's house usually ended up being more of a kickback than a meeting. The guys all usually brought a few beers, snacks, and some video games to enjoy after whatever team business was discussed. Jared's family had moved away but kept the house so he could live in it while he finished college. This made it the perfect place for them to all hang.
After pulling up to Jared's quiet suburban home, he headed down to the large basement living room, where the team usually hung out. It had multiple sofas and plenty of space for the whole team.
He was surprised to find that he was the last one on the team to arrive.
"Hey man! Didn't know you had it in you to be on time to anything" Aaron said jokingly to Trevor as he sat on the couch next to him.
"Dude what are you talking about? Jared said to be here at six th-"
Trevor was immediately cut off by Jared who jumped up and started the meeting.
"Glad to see you all could make it." Jared said, standing and facing everyone. "I wanted to go over the plan coach and I made to get us all in shape. We are very excited but it's going to take every guy on this team doing his part."
Jared held up a protein shaker bottle filled with an ivory liquid. It just looked like any other protein shake. "Coach and I consulted with some people in the chemistry department and formulated a unique protein shake mixture for each of you. It's highly concentrated and is specially formulated to last longer than a normal shake. Because of this, we probably only have to drink it once a week. So every week starting today, we will all drink it together, that way I know nobody is slacking."
"Seriously?!" Chimed Trent "you have to babysit us about it?"
"No you don't understand. It's just way easier this way." Said Jared. He seemed annoyed that Trent would say something like that, as if he should have known better.
"Anyway, we are still working on the flavors. So let me know what you guys think!" Jared handed everyone a bottle with their name on it.
Aaron gave it a couple shakes then put the bottle up to his mouth and took a big sip. The shake was… delicious. It was so sweet and rich and nothing at all like those nasty protein shakes he was used to.
"Fuck that's good." "Hey man, what's in this?" "Damn it's just like ice cream…" the other guys clearly enjoyed theirs too.
"Glad y'all like it. Anyway, that's the meeting. Once you finish your shakes, I've got plenty of beers in the fridge." Said Jared with a grin on his face. "One more thing. We noticed when we were testing it, sometimes the shakes can make you a little… bloated."
As if on cue, Trevor let out a long *buuUuuUURRP* followed by some hearty laughter from the rest of the guys.
"Look if this gets us in shape like you say it will, a couple burps won't kill me" joked Trevor.
"Oh don't worry, it'll work just fine." Said Jared.
The team came prepared with the usual snacks, beer and video games. They were broing out just like any other team meeting before long.
20 minutes later…
—---------------------------
The guys started getting really gassy. Being a soccer team that spent tons of time together, an occasional fart or burp was not new for the boys. It was always followed by laughter at the expense of the perpetrator, but this was different. The teammates were all feeling way more bloated than they had ever been. ‘Hopefully these shakes are worth it…’ their faces seemed to say.
At first they seemed to be a little embarrassed about it, but after a few minutes of laughing at each other they were letting it all out. All the boys at this point were occasionally farting and burping. Aaron noticed that the boys’ cheeks were becoming a little flush as well. They were also starting to get hard. Rock hard. Aaron noticed that everyone on the team had a boner visible through their shorts by now. Even himself.
All the guys were blushing as they started noticing the strange effects of this protein shake they had been given.
"Yeah sorry guys, it has some odd side effects" said Jared.
Aaron felt super flustered. The guys knew he was gay, but staring at all their protruding manhoods felt like a step too far. He got up to go to the bathroom, but as he did…
"Hey... Has anyone else noticed how fat Aaron's ass is?" Said Trent
"You're joking right?" Aaron said in disbelief.
"Like, seriously huge..." said Trent, as he stroked his cock through his shorts.
"...hey!" Aaron was completely shocked. This… didn’t feel like their normal banter.
"I'm serious!" Said Trent. "Has it always jiggled this much??" He got up and gave Aaron’s ass a huge smack. Even through his shorts, you could see it shake in recoil.
Come to think of it, Aaron thought, was it usually that jiggly? Was this another bizarre effect of these shakes?
The next thing he knew, Trent grabbed Aarons shorts and pulled them to the ground.
"Holy fuck!" exclaimed Trent "That ass is fucking insane!"
"What the fuck is going on here!?" yelled Jared "Get your *buuuURP* hands off my teammate!"
Trent grabbed Aaron's cheeks and squeezed. His fingers sank deep into the soft flesh, which he loved. He pushed Aaron firmly between the shoulder blades, the boy bracing himself on the couch. Trent mimed fucking Aarons ass in front of the team, causing an uproar of laughter.
“Hey man, chill out!” Exclaimed Jared. “I told you how this was going to work.”
Jared grabbed Trent by the collar of his shirt and pulled him away. But then quickly dropped his own shorts and stood behind Aaron.
It all happened so fast Aaron didn’t have a chance to move. From being shocked about what Trent had done to him, to being frozen by seeing Jared act so dominant. Aaron just watched in shock as he was still bent over the couch. But he didn’t really want to move, either. He was starting to feel unusually calm.
The next thing he knew, Jared reached for some lube that was on the side table, and rubbed it on his huge rock hard cock. Wait… Aaron thought to himself, was that lube always there? Why would Jared leave it out like that?
Aaron also noticed that Jared’s balls were looking massive, as if they were a pair of oranges.
“Get ready, fatass” moaned Jared. He gave Aaron’s jiggly ass a good slap and then grabbed him by his love handles.
Aaron felt a tingle through his body. He had never had a dick in his ass before. But he had always fantasized about it. This was a very weird night so far, but he’d be lying if he said he had never fantasized about having handsome, tall, fit, dominant but gentle Jared pound his tight (and now fat) ass.
His ass relaxed as if on queue, and Jared easily slipped in. Aaron moaned quietly at the sensation of having his first dick inside him.
He could hear Jared burping as he slid back and forth. The guys were definitely getting gassy because of their shakes.
Aaron groaned as Jared began to go deeper and harder. He was so turned on by this. He didn’t care that his whole team was there. He didn't mind the gas or the loud farts that Jared was letting out. In fact, he liked it. There was something about being taken by his team captain, called names and fucked in the ass that made him feel so incredibly horny.
Jared was thrusting really hard now and Aaron could feel Jared’s huge balls colliding with his own. It was so hot feeling Jared’s fat cock sliding in and out of his ass.
"Fuck, yeah, fuck me, I love it!" whined Aaron, leaning forward on the couch.
Jared continued to pound away, slamming Aaron's asshole relentlessly. He was so focused on Jared that he forgot the rest of the team was in the room, watching and stroking their cocks to Aaron and Jared.
"Come on, you fat bitch, take my dick! *BUuuuuUP* You're gonna be our team slut now!" yelled Jared.
Aaron nodded his head in agreement as Jared pounded away.
“Fuuuck…” was all Aaron could let out between his moans. He had never been so aroused. All he wanted at this point was to feel Jared release his huge load inside him.
"Take it, take it all… Take my load!" cried Jared, as he came inside Aaron's soft stomach. Aaron felt him gushing inside him. It felt like he was cumming forever, to the point where Aaron began to feel a slight pressure inside him from all the sloshing cum.
When Jared was done, he slowly pulled out of Aaron's ass. “Don’t let that go to waste, fatboy” he said as he slapped Aarons’ dribbling ass. He started laughing as he looked at Aaron's now rounder and softer belly. Aaron looked as if he had instantly put on 10 pounds. "Damn, did I do that? You look even fatter now"
"It feels... tight" said Aaron, out of breath. "But it's amazing." He put a hand on his belly and felt not only Jared's cum sloshing around but also a softer layer of fat beneath his sweaty skin.
"I definitely feel less bloated now," said Jared with a grin, "you guys should try it" he said to the rest of the guys.
Aaron looked up and noticed Jared’s balls were normal sized now. Jared also looked like he… had lost weight? How was that possible? He looked like he was back to his toned, muscular body that he had before break. But Aaron was still in too much of a daze to think much more about it. He wanted to cum himself but his belly was too tight to focus.
The other boys all looked hesitant but something told Aaron that they all wanted to fuck him and unload their cum in him just like their team captain did.
Part two
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Strange Christmas Family Swap
Christmas is supposed to be the time of year where you celebrate joy with your family and loved ones. But everyone has that one family member no one looks forward to seeing, and I’m no different. For me that person would be my grandpa. He'd always been a really cranky guy who, I swear, could find something to complain about on literally any topic. I don't know why he even comes over for the holidays in the first place. Maybe he's just lonely? At least my siblings are coming home. They're all older than me and left for college years ago. Sometimes I felt like I was behind everyone just because I was the youngest, but they always tell me to enjoy being young while it lasted. At least I still had my dog, Lucy, to keep me company.
“Shoot. Ferris, we forgot to buy your grandpa a present,” my mom mentioned while preparing dinner for Christmas Eve.
“Does it matter? He's not gonna like anything anyway.”
“Yes I know. But it's Christmas. The time of year where you need to treat even those you dislike well. Could you quickly go to that gift shop and buy some cheap ornament?”
“Mom, it's Christmas Eve! Half these places are closed or closing soon.” She looked up a store on her phone and showed me that it closed at 5. It was 4:38.
“There's that one hallmark store within walking distance still open. You can make it in time! I just don't want to cause a scene.” I wanted to take the car, but it would take too long to shovel all the snow, so I walked. The store wasn't that far by foot, but it was still an awful time in the freezing cold. When I arrived, there was a single employee at the counter - an old lady with a messy bun. She greeted me and asked what I needed.
“I have just the thing.” She walked over to the shelf and showed me a little Santa ornament that was wearing a galaxy pattern suit instead of the regular red. It was actually a pretty good gift because my grandpa loved outer space, not to mention he kinda looked like Santa anyway, just without the beard.
“This is perfect.”
“Then why do you look sad?” Her response caught me by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I can tell something’s wrong. It's Christmas Eve. You should be happy!”
“That's probably easy for others. But for me, Christmas means family time and I don't exactly like someone in my family.
“That's a shame. You're lucky to have a family at least.” She looked down at the floor sadly. It was clear what she meant by that.
“But since you still have people in your life I'd like to help you with your problem. Could I have that ornament back please?” I assumed she was about to check me out so I started reaching for my wallet, when she walked into the backroom with the present instead. As soon as the door closed, the power suddenly went out and I was in pure darkness until there was a weird purple glow coming from the door. All of this only lasted about 10 seconds and the power came back on as if nothing happened. Did I just imagine that whole thing? It was weird. The woman walked back out with a big smile on her face.
“Did the power go out or something? And what happened in there?”
“Oh nothing,” she said with a grin. “Merry Christmas!”
“Yeah, Merry Christmas. I guess.” She checked me out and I was on my way back home.
When I arrived, my siblings were already there, as well as my grandpa.
“Hey! It's Ferris!” said my oldest brother Calvin. He had definitely gained a lot of weight since I last saw him, even though he was an athlete in college. Looks like he still refused to shave the messy beard he started last year. My older sibling Sam grinned at me. They looked exactly as they always did - expressing their love of anime with a nerdy t-shirt and wearing ear gauges that have gotten bigger since the last time I saw them. My sister Em walked up to hug me. She was always the one I was closest with, since she was only 2 years older than me.
“I got a present for Grandpa.” He suddenly looked at me, and then to the bag I was holding.
“It's about time you buy me something! Lemme see.”
“Well not until Christmas.” Despite living to see many Christmases, Grandpa was still an extremely impatient person. He'd actually opened up his Christmas presents early before because he just couldn't stand the wait. This was my first time buying one myself for him (even though it was really just my mom sending me) so I guess he was beyond curious.
“Come on. It's basically Christmas anyway.” He got his large ass out of the seat and approached me. He was wearing a tucked in blue plaid shirt that covered the gut hanging over his pants. He stumbled over to me until we were face to face. I could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath, almost making my eyes water.
“Boy, give me the gift.”
“Dad, just wait until Christmas. You're gonna spoil the surprise.” My mom thankfully defended me and started walking over.
“Fine, but I-” He faked content and snatched the bag from me.
“Dad! Enough!” My mom shouted but it was too late. He had taken the ornament out of the bag, but clumsily dropped it. It shattered all over the floor before he even had a chance to react.
“Oh man.” Sam gulped.
“Now look at what you've done! You ruined my present!” Grandpa yelled in my face.
“Dad! Dad! Calm down. I think you need to go to bed now.”
“Fine! But only because your idiot son ruined my Christmas!” My mom escorted him to the guest room and Em picked up a broom. We both swept together as my mom walked back into the kitchen.
“Could he possibly be more…you know…” I started.
“Horrible? Pathetic?” Calvin added.
“Gross? Nasty?” Sam added.
“Your grandfather is just lonely really. His parents - my grandparents - let him do whatever he wanted. He's a real spoiled man. But I don't think there's any changing him now so let's just endure the day tomorrow and you won't have to see him for a while. Got it?”
“Fine.” The rest of the night was much better and I had a great time with my family. Calvin scarfed down the food so fast he almost choked, Em told me all about what college was like, Sam bragged about his new gauges, and Lucy practically flew under the table as soon as my mom dropped a piece of ham.
When it was time for bed, my siblings got settled into their rooms - Calvin and Sam sharing the same bedroom they did growing up, and Em sleeping in the basement because her old room was turned into an office. I looked at the Christmas tree glimmering with lights and decorations, excited to see what the presents underneath it would look like in the morning. It's a shame that Grandpa's present broke and we had to throw it away, but I guess he got what he deserved for being such a dick. I headed into my bed, where Lucy was already snuggled up in, and nestled up under the covers.
The next morning I woke up to the sounds of shouting, which was unfitting for what was supposed to be a peaceful Christmas morning. It was coming from the room next to me and sounded like my brothers, which was weird because my room was across the hall from them. But it sounded so close. I started getting up, to see what was going on, but when I looked around, I realized I actually was in the guest room
How did I get in here? I gazed down to find my stomach seemed swollen in my white tank top. I lifted it up and to my horror, I realized my slim chest was replaced with a flabby belly! How did I get so fat? I know I ate alot last night but this was ridiculous! The gut flopped out, to a bit over my waist. It felt weird knowing a part of my body was just hanging there. I noticed a bit of chest hair, which was foreign to me, but when I noticed they were gray hairs, it finally hit me. I was a fat old guy in the guest room. I somehow switched bodies with my grandpa!
I heard the voices leave the room so I stumbled over to the door, not quite used to the shift in weight compared to my old twink body, and was about to put my hand on the doorknob when I saw someone looking at me in the mirror. I turned my head to find that it was my grandpa…I mean me…staring back.
I really did look disgusting, not just because of my looks, but because I now had the face of an impatient jerk. I tried doing different facial expressions; it looked weird because I rarely had ever seen my grandpa smile at all. I noticed that I couldn't see my own dick past the belly, not that I would want to. It was probably all wrinkly and gross! What was I going to do? I opened the door to find Calvin walking to the living room. He looked pretty concerned, which was unusual for the carefree personality he usually had.
“Hey uh..Grandpa?” Fuck. Looks like I'm not imagining it after all. I hated this. “Sorry for the noise, it's just that…”
“I'm not even gonna try to pretend.” I spoke, but my voice came out gravelly and deep. It scared me a little bit. “I'm Ferris, not Grandpa. I don't know how it happened! I just-”
“Shit! That's great! I mean not because you're Grandpa now. But because I'm not alone! I'm actually Sam.”
“Sam?” It was actually kinda funny, Sam and Calvin switching bodies. They were close but still completely different people. I couldn't contain my laughter and started giggling, even though it came out as my Grandpa's gruff wheezes.
“Oh sure. I'M the funny one when Mister-wheeze-a-lot can't laugh without sounding like he's dying.”
“Hey! Well Mister-” I stopped myself trying to continue the joke. “Wait, how does that work?”
“The gender is all up to the person. Sure the…” they stared down at the new extra pounds they now carried and shook their belly. “...expression might be different, at least at the moment, but I'm still me. BUT the idiot who looks like me doesn't seem to understand.” As if on cue, Calvin in Sam's body appeared, walking in a macho way, something that Sam would never do.
“Check it out Grandpa! I'm an enby!” Sam gave a huge facepalm.
“Calvin my sweet brother, We. Have. Been. Over. This.”
“Hey whatever. I think it's cool. My face feels so empty though. Maybe I'll start growing a bea-” Sam cut him off right there.
“If you go out there without a clean shaven face, I'm shaving YOUR beard.”
“God no please. It took me like a year to grow that!” Calvin pleaded.
“Hey hey, what about me?!” I interrupted their arguing.
“Oh yeah,” Sam started. “That's not Grandpa. It's Ferris.”
“Oh man Ferris. You're a fucking old dude now!” exclaimed Calvin. He then poked my new belly. “Welcome to the chub club! Well…” He glaced down at Sam's slim figure. “My membership is on hold for now.”
Just then we heard a scream coming from my mom's room. We quickly opened the door, already knowing what happened. We found my mom staring at the mirror with a look of pure horror on her face.
“It's ok Em, we're all body swapped too.” She seemed to calm down when she realized that she wasn't alone in all this.
“Weird case of Freaky Friday here. Especially with Em….and Mom,” added Calvin. Just then my mom, in Em's body, walked in to join in the confusion.
“Well this is awkward. Two of my kids in each other's bodies, my own son in my dad's and I'm in my own daughter's body. Could this Christmas get any crazier?”
“Where's Grandpa?”
“Probably still sleeping.”
We headed over to my room, expecting him to still be asleep, only to find him flexing in the mirror - in my body. I didn't actually have any real muscles, being a skinny twink, so he didn't really have anything to flex. That didn't stop him from admiring himself. When he noticed us, he walked over smiling. It was a creepy sight, not only to see my body move on its own, but also knowing it's my grandpa inside there smiling.
“Hello everyone. It's good to be young again!”
“Uh hey Grandpa.” He looked right at me. “No, no! Call me Boris! YOU'RE the grandpa now!”
I felt so humiliated. He was actually…cool…in my body! And I was just the fat old guy that nobody liked!
“Dad, we need to figure out what happened so you can become your old self again. Ok?”
“Hell no! I'm young again for the first time in years. No way I'm giving away this opportunity!”
“I got it!” Em suddenly exclaimed. We all turned around wondering what she meant. She showed us her phone - or rather my mom's phone.
“What?”
“How we all swapped bodies! That ornament that Ferris got! There's an ancient artifact that can take on different appearances. It says it's been known to cause mischief when broken.”
“What kind of ancient thing is meant to be broken? How has it lasted this long then?”
“That's the thing. Everytime it breaks, it finds a new place and takes on a new appearance. But it always takes on the appearance of an object that its next victim will need.”
“Shit. And that's why the present seemed perfect for Grandpa.”
“Hey! I got a much better gift than any of you!” cheered my grandpa as he flexed his arms once agaih.
“But…how do we find it again?”
“Y-you don't. Unless you want to search the whole world for something you don't even know what it looks like.”
There was a deafening silence after she spoke those words. We all realized the truth was that we would never return to our old bodies. I was stuck as an old man forever!
“Hey, it's not so bad,” my grandpa started, seemingly reading my mind. He leaned over and lifted up my shirt, exposing my gut, and slapped it. “The belly is pretty comfy after all. You'll love it.” Maybe he was right. I'm sure I could make the silver bear look work. As I thought about that, I noticed a bulge starting to form. Grandpa turned to look at everyone with a huge smile on his face.
“Merry Christmas everyone!”
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Christmas | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Your dearest friends from Twisted Wonderland have landed in your world. Whether by blunder of the mirror or an outside source their stuck just in time for the holidays. It’s Christmas and the party is here your Christmas royalty and your ready to show these sad men from Twisted Wonderland what your all about! Especially since they all seem to be fighting over someone lately.
“Alright boys get your fairy-tails in gear! I’m not called the Queen/King of Christmas for nothing!”
Hanging Decor with Floyd Leech
You groaned as you balanced the untangled garland around your body. Realizing that the only ladder you could use was under and in service of Riddle who was intent on properly straightening the decor he directed his dormmembers put up. Standing on some stairs you called out to the only one who could help.
“Floyd! Here, boy! Floyd!”
Weeks ago you might’ve been scolded for calling your friend like a dog but after living with the sadistic-eel-mer-corset anything to avoid his destruction was promptly ignored. He came dashing past others without care before skidding to a stop in front of you.
“Turn.”
Like clockwork, he followed your command as you hopped on his back initiating a piggyback ride. Apparently, no one in Night Raven was ever brave enough and they weren’t you to ask this giant if he liked to give piggyback rides. All too easily are you able to train this giant into being your speedy, tall method of transport.
“I need you to hold me steady while I hang this Garland.”
You proceeded to struggle as Floyd randomly shifted his weight and bounced you against his back. When you did try to gain some stability he’d only readjust his hold from the groove behind your knee to your upper thigh. Giving it a tight squeeze causing you to squeal before attempting to focus.
“Ne~Ne~Shrimpy? How about you get higher, yeah? Climb up on my shoulders!”
You rolled your eyes before doing just that, finally getting in the position to hang the garland to hang where you wanted it to. You found while Floyd continued to shift his head and body you could easily stabilize yourself if you simply tighten your thigh’s grip around his head. When you felt Floyd’s hand come up to press further relieve the tightness of your hold you internally chuckled at the irony. Nonetheless, you completed your task finally relenting to let Floyd have the playtime he so rightfully earned.
“Well then Floyd, go ahead. What game do you want to play now?”
“This game where you try squeezing me!”
“Like with a hug? Sure, then let me down and I’ll-”
“No! No, we’re already playing just keep closing your legs.”
“B-but this is kind of embarrass-”
“I might just be out of the mood to help with any more decorating.”
“Ok ok just don’t walk around…I don’t want the other guys to see…”
“Okay!”
Floyd had no intention of that happening in the first place. Not because he didn’t want to flaunt how tightly your thighs were squeezing on his face. Because he did. It was more so that he couldn’t have anyone witnessing his own reaction. To say the mer-eel was excited was an understatement. He was practically drooling at the pressure you were applying to his head; no doubt a knee-jerk reaction to being so embarrassed. He didn’t need anyone to see him practically shrilling in arousal.
“F-Floyd!? H-hey!? Tap me if you want out! Please! Please!”
Vil and the Christmas Closet (Vil, Kalim, Idia)
This was something you both dreaded and celebrated. To let the closest professional in fashion and culture that’d you’d ever meet, his opinion mattered quite a lot. Especially to your Christmas collection of funny to charming sexy outfits to wear until the New Year.
“If you claim such a position of the holiday then I’d expect you to have the wardrobe to show for it!”
You expected no less from Vil Schoenheit. Demanding before festivities were held that you model your closet for him. Knowing full-well that he’d most likely definitely tear you apart you invited some…neutral team players.
“I’m sure you’ll look great in everything you wear!”
“W-why am I here?”
Kalim was a wonderful team player. You doubted the man had an insulting bone in his body. Idia on the other hand was here on account of your support and Vil dragging him here with the message being: ‘Here video-game-obsessed potato, bear witness to an otaku with actual fashion sense.’
With bated breath you walked out from behind the visor, giving the group a turn before striking a pose.
“That’s fitting…if you were someone’s grandparent.”
“That is fair.”
Ouch. But you could take it.
“What fun! Can I wear it when we do our contest?! I think you look super inviting.”
“Aww, thanks Kalim!”
“Hey. Focus!”
Vil interjected scoffing and pouting as he waited for Idia to respond. Poor Idia seemed to be crying in the corner…oh…wait…nevermind.
“Hahhahahaha even I think that looks ridiculous! It's like you equipped a rigged piece of armor that just drains your likeability! Hahaha!”
“I assume that’s ‘game speak’ for–never go outside the house like this?”
“Hahaha, that’s an understatement!”
Going through your closet was more or less the same. Vil would either give a generous or honest take, Kalim would cheer in support without actual direction, and Idia would crudely rate it based on otome love interests who, in his opinion, got this thing right.
“No no! This is all wrong! Is this seriously the only type of tie you wear!?”
“Well no I have these-”
“Noo I can’t have my true love doing this much for a mere holiday!”
“Wait what’s wrong with–”
“Says you Idia-san! I loooveee these ties and I love (Y/n) in these ties!”
“Oh please! Your just saying that because that's all you’d want to see on them! With your freaky normie fetishes.”
“Uhm hold on–”
“I think you should be more honest about your feelings! You were thinking the same about that hat I’m sure!”
“You-!”
“Ahem! Anyway, the point is your collection is sub-par. Therefore,” he smirked making you realize this may have truly been the aim, “I’ve already purchased fitting replacements.”
All on hangers wrapped in expensive packaging he pushed them into your person until you conceded and disappeared behind the visor.
“B-but Vil these look so pricey…I don’t want to take your money.”
“Please. You know the quality of these will outlive any ugly sweater and besides, I don’t plan to spare any expense on your beauty.”
You struggled a little but were eventually able to squeeze into the form-fitting bodice of the outfit all while verbally convincing them that you were just fine.
“Gahk! Wow.”
“Uhm (Y/n) are you alright? Do you want me to come back there!?”
“What? Ah-”
“Kalim I’d think you’d try to be less obvious about your intentions. But if you do need help darling I am the one that ordered those thus I should be the one to help.”
“Hahaha thats real nice of you Vil but I got this! I have to fit into clothes all the time!”
“That are tailored to fit you.”
“Vil your talking as if you don’t either.”
“Touche.”
You made a show of coming out from behind the visor lifting the trailing skirt of the suit as if it were a dress. Letting it drop as you posed for dramatic effect.
“So what do you guys think?”
Everyone seemed so stunned; you could only hope it was in the good way. As if to soothe your fearful heart when Idia not so subtly pointed his picture to you as he took a picture.
“Y-you really look like the Winter spirit. The white looks…magnificent on you!”
“Thanks Idia.”
You smiled at him, letting your ego be boosted by the pink tips that seemed to spread throughout his hair. Completely oblivious to the way all three of your audience kept getting closer; close enough to touch.
*Smack*
“Hands off Idia. Your grubby hands are sure to make stains.”
“But your hands on their–”
“I’m adjusting.”
Vil in fact was adjusting the suit of the torso, showing you the proper way to wear it comfortably, because rich people have it different. You failed to really take into account the lingering touches that the supermodel was giving, writing it off as him fussing over your outfit.
Vil stepped back but only a little to admire his work, “I knew you’d look good in white. Now you can truly look the part for that title.”
“Thanks a lot, Vil! I really appreciate it!”
“Of course, you deserve it my love.”
“Wow, you look like you’re about to get married! Would you marry me?”
“What?!” Kalim beamed hugging you by your waist purposely drawing attention from Vil who was respectfully still in front of you.
“Hey! That’s a forbidden question!” Idia piped.
“Don’t answer that potato, (Y/n). I already know what you’ll say.”
“Uhm–”
Sleeper Squad (Leona, Silver)
The fire kindled in its place, the weighted comforters you collected, and the continued buzz in your stomach from the hot chocolate you happily downed moments before. You were ready for your Christmas nap. Having spent the whole day tirelessly preparing for Christmas festivities you were finally letting yourself sleep. That is until you stepped on something warmer than your rug.
“S-silver?”
Hearing nothing but a relaxed puff from the sleeping knight who was faceplanted on the carpet. You debated leaving him there for your nap but ultimately decided if there were anyone you would have been wiling to share your nap time with it’d be the ultimate napper of Night Raven. You buckled down working to carry Silver’s deadweight off the ground to plop him on the arm of the couch you originally had reserved for yourself.
“Phew, okay now its time for my nap!”
“Good I’ll join you.”
You snapped towards the other side of the couch where Leona was already pulling at your blankets and shifting into the cushions of the couch. You refrained from starting a one-sided fight with the Savvannaclaw dorm leader and instead to spite him you curled up next to him on him. Cozying into his your puffed your chest, holding your chin up high as you pulled at the blankets. It wasn’t long before the pull of sleep became more intense letting the smug teasing you would have done become mumbles. Completely unaware of the way his emerald eyes widened before closing them to growl possessively into you as he curled in on himself. Lulled by the vibrations of his growl you just barely heard and answered the question Silver tiredly groaned.
“(Y/n)? You’re taking a nap too? Can I…zzz…come to?”
“S-sure.”
Wasting no time he crawled from his side of the couch to comfortably snuggle into the opening in the blanket. Cozying around to put an arm around you, Silver fought sleep as he could vaguely feel the other arm holding you into their owner’s chest.
“Grrr back off,” Leona seethed through his teeth as if any noise would of roused you at this point. He was already aware of the sleepy Silver falling asleep in the crook of your chest. What he wasn’t expecting was for the preciously closed eyes to flutter open in a glare directed at him. Before Leona could raise alarm Silver was already fast asleep along with you, who was tiredly accepting the warmth of the notorious nappers.
“C-*Yawn*-’mon L’ona, lets sleep.”
He relished in the tired call from his mate and proceeded to inch closer to your behind, breaking the barrier, where Silver was tightly holding onto you, with his arm. Fully placing himself as your big spoon resting himself on your shoulder he could see the grey glare of Silver as he adjusted himself begrudgingly.
With that the sleeper squad was assembled and doing the only thing they could agree upon.
An Intro-course to Cheesy Hallmarks (Riddle, Ruggie, Idia)
“I’ve gathered you all today because I have deemed you all to be the most out of touch with modern interests. And during Christmas, I’d be a monster not to introduce you to not only the tradition but the example these cheesy Hallmarks show for possibly problematic relationships!.”
You could already see Riddle’s stern face of silent rebuttal before he shrunk back into the couch. Since you had come back to your world you had decided it was the perfect oppurtunity to try and get implement your self-subscribed therapy…or thats what you called it.
“Idia you already know why you’re here. right?”
“Yes it's typical of me not to invest any time in Normie movies but I’ve heard of the dumpster fires these movies can be and I can’t wait!”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Wait! Why am I here?! I’m not socially inept like Riddle!”
“Hey!”
“No worries you are just here because you have good taste!”
“Yeah!”
Ruggie’s cheering was looked at with distaste by Riddle and Idia who were both contemplating setting him on fire. Noticing the tense aura the two were giving off you frantically caught their attention.
“Anyways you guys get comfy while I get snacks ready!”
They watched as you rushed away, waiting until you were completely out of ear shot before deciding to release some of the building tension. With arms behind his head and a smug smirk on his face he boasted to the others.
“Did you hear? I’m the one with good tastes Nishishishishi.”
“...yes.” “We heard.” Riddle and Idia responded no longer hiding the deathly glare on their face.
Ruggie hummed, “Then I’m sure you could hear the wedding bells already ringing.”
“What?!” “Huh?!”
“Don’t you see? They know I have class and it’ll just be a matter of time before they realize we’re the perfect match for one another.” Ruggie pressed further relishing in the vein popping from Riddle’s head as the prefect clutched at his pants. Idia cringed before letting out his own response.
“Ewww, you think they’re going to settle. For a normie like you?! Please, you’ll be lucky to be invited to our wedding. A normie like you wouldn’t understand it though, it’ll be anime-themed.”
“Right like they’d even sleep in the same bed as you! No offense, but your like the biggest nerd I know. ”
“And?! You think they’d want to be with a shifty normie, like you? Ha I doubt it!”
The two bickered back and forth with various insults leaving Riddle to excercise the breathing techniques you had worked on him with.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Now Smell.
Popcorn and hot chocolate? Nice.
Now taste.
Nothing now.
Now listen.
“...well I don’t expect (Y/n) to realize their suddenly madly in love with Dr. Frankenstein!”
“...its obvious your too busy following that alpha chad to actually care about them!”
Speak.
“(Y/n)’s not going to be with either of you.”
“Huh?!” “Who says?!”
“I do and I’m willing to behead either one of you if you get in my way.”
Ruggie and Idia were livid each moving to strangle confront him in the middle of the couch stopping when you reentered the room with popcorn in hand. You excitedly went on about the recorded movie you had chosen completely unaware of the passing birds being flipped and silent threats being made as you finally joined them on the couch.
“Alright lets get this show! on the road!”
You cheered as you cozied into your spot between Riddle and Idia who both were enduring the drooped ears and glare from Ruggie. For the two by your side it was all fun and games before the movie started but as the show commences they’re playing a different tune. Idia’s the first to suffer atempting to reach for the popcorn bowl in your lap only to grab a squeeze of something else.
“U-h! Idia!?”
“What?!”
“Your hand!”
“What?!”
“I-its squeezing my chest!”
“.....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”
You try and assure him that it was okay to make the mistake while reaching in the dark. But he was far too embarrassed or so he says to even stay and continue the movie, claiming he had to excuse himself to his room to cleanse himself from his perverted actions. Dismissing himself while cradling the offending hand all with pink fiery hair as he disappeared. Riddle shivered in disgust as he caught a glimpse of the lovesick smile on Idia’s face. He shook his head before looking towards the screen. It was him against Ruggie.
He kept his cool watching the movie as he periodically sent a look to the hyena boy who was scooching uncomfortably close to you. With speed and precision Ruggie was already moving an arm behind you, slowly slinking behind you to pull that move.
“Here (Y/n), got you a blanket for our binge watching.”
“Aw thanks Riddle! Wanna share?”
“Of course!”
Riddle happily pulled the blanket he dropped behind your head to the front expertly removing the hair pins that were dug into the couch. He smiled wider as he registered the wet liquid lingering on the needle. To add to his satisfaction Ruggie was silently wrapping a bandaid on himself, stifling a growl as he watched Riddle snuggle close to you.
“Oh so you like that Red? Trust me your going to see this trope a hundred different times.”
Mistletoe with Malleus
“I’m happy to find you out here, my child of man.”
“Mal-mal?”
You turned from looking out from the balcony of the venue you were in. Wearing the modernized cloak with green glowing accents Malleus stood letting his horns appear with the green firelights. You smiled as you leaned on the beam, filled with the nostalgia of your meets at Ramshackle.
“Well isn’t this a familiar scenario, eh Tsun-o-taru? Are you having fun?”
“I suppose you could call it that but in truth I value our meetings over any gala.”
You chuckled, thanking him before you invited him to stand under the cover of the balcony as you looked at the dazzling lights of the city below. You pulled his arm next to you as you leaned slightly over the rail to point at the grand cathedral, you had visited days before. Smiling at the memory you couldn’t register the obsessed look on the dragon-fae’s face as he witnessed the textures of your face.
“See? You can even see the gargoyles from all the way up here.”
“Mmmh. I appreciate the themed spot lights on them. The decorations there were superb I cannot say the same for this venue.”
“What?! What d’ya mean?”
“Well for one the tree wasn’t green. Who in their sane mind decorates a black tree?”
You giggled as he continued.
“The decoration is non-parallel. For instance the collection of berries hanging on only this beam and not the others.”
You snapped your attention to the beam above locating the naughty plant as you felt the heat rising on your cheeks.
“Ah-uhm! A Malleus you don’t know what this is?”
He looked pointedly to you at the name before trying to identify the reason for your fidgetting.
“No. Should I?”
You could feel the heat continue to consume your face as you had to explain.
“W-well Miseltoe is..uh..a plant that has a sort of…a tradition…”
The blushing only got worse as Malleus cutely tilted his head as you continue to fumble this explanation.
“This tradition is…well…let me just show you, would you please give me your hand.”
Smiling in intrigue he did just that, truly curious as he watched you embarrassingly take his hand.
In a moment it felt as though the snow circled around you two like magic. The muffled sounds of the party ceased and Malleus could barely registering the intake of breath he refused to release. Not as you bent down kissing the glove on his hand like a prince to his princess in tales of old. The sight of your eyes looking up at him as your lips left the cloth of his glove sent him into waves of euphoria, hardly containing the tail he kept hidden.
For you it seemed as if Malleus was frozen. You hoped it wasn’t in horror but in shock. Either way you released your hold on his hand as you shrugged.
“The tradition for mistletoe is that you kiss whoever is under it with you. I didn’t want to overstep and kiss you on your face since that’s–”
“Perfect.”
“W-what?!”
His emerald orbs seemed to glow with hunger as he pulled you into him by your waist. He tightened his hold on you using one hand to cradle your back and the other to hold your head into his as he kissed you. The first kiss was innocent, a kiss meant to reciprocate a feeling of interest isthere before diving for more. Harshly kissing at your closed lips before locating an opening to shove his lengthy tongue. Even as you pulled at his hair with your oxygen running out, all that was met with was the curling of his tail against his and your body. When he finally does release you you could only lean on the beam as Malleus continued to cage you against it.
“It seems we are still under the mistletoe. It is only right that we pertain to the tradition.”
#yandere christmas#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere christmas twisted wonderland#yandere floyd x reader#yandere vil x reader#yandere kalim x reader#yandere idia x reader#yandere malleus draconia#yandere riddle x reader#yandere ruggie x reader#yandere twst x reader#yandere malleus#yandere malleus x reader#yandere leona x reader#twisted wonderland#christmas twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst christmas#yandere christmas special
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Chan noticing their s/o and their weight insecurity, like they are not even overweight but the body dysmorphia kicks in hard and he reassures them
hope you realise how beautiful you are and thank you for the request ♡ masterlist
[17:46 pm]
paring; bangchan x reader
"babe are you ready?" chris asks from outside the bathroom waiting for you to get ready for your night out with your friends "almost" you replied "can I come in? I need to fix my hair a bit" he asked rhetorically as he opened the door; you've been living together for long enough to be comfortable sharing the bathroom.
the sight in front of him though was not what he hoped and thought it would, it was you looking your naked self in the mirror, your hair dried since you've been out of the shower for at least another hour. "honey what's wrong" he said hugging you from behind and leaving kisses on your shoulder and collarbone "chris be honest; am I fat?" you said leaving his embrace and standing in front of him "love are you crazy? of course you're not, you got the perfect weight for your height and age what has gotten into you"
"ah I don't know really I just don't feel like perfect as you say. I shouldn't have eaten so much during holidays, don't let me again to eat that much look at my tummy oh god it's huge and my thighs they've gotten so big what am I gonna do?" you explained at your boyfriend who was looking at you with wide eyes, he couldn't believe you were actually saying this.
"love are you kidding, look at you, you don't have to be only bones to be beautiful okay? all you have to do is to be healthy, healthy equals pretty got that?" he says hugging you tightly, so tight you thought he would never let go. "yeah but now I'm fat, now that I eat breakfast, lunch and dinner not to talk about snacks I'll stop eating now and I'll loose weight soon I've done that before there won't be any problem, will be?" you questioned yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror
"yes there will, listen to me, if you want to loose weight you can come with me at the gym but mo diet for you as long as I am here okay? listen to me, you are not overweight you don't need to do anything every girl is jealous of your natural body and I'll never stop saying it until you get it okay?" he said while tracing every part of your body.
"maybe you're right I look kinda good don't I?" you said gaining some confidence again "I am love I always am get dressed now we're gonna be late k?" he said kissing all over your face "yeah alright I'll be quick thank you I love you so much" you said hugging him and immediately started getting ready.
© @/bangchanisinmymind on tumblr | do not translate or copy my work without permission {feedback is highly appreciated! comment/DM for requests!} masterlist
#bang chan#bang chan fanfic#bang chan imagines#bang chan scenarios#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#skz fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#bang chan drabbles#skz x reader#bangchan comfort#skz comfort
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Kinkmas Day 6 (Argyle x Fem!Reader)
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), fingering, oral (f! receiving), heavy mentions of diet culture & body image issues, language
WC: 1.8k
Kinkmas 2022 Masterlist
A/N: Special thanks to @trashmouth-richie for her help with the dialogue. Love you, bb squirrel <3
--
For some people, the prospect of the New Year brings thoughts of renewal and hope. Reconnection with loved ones, new resolutions, and promises to keep.
For you, it meant being inundated with advertisements for diets to “combat holiday weight gain” or to “earn your dream body.” As much as you tried to tune out the commercials and magazine spreads, it was nearly impossible. Low carb, low fat, and low self-esteem.
Your boyfriend didn’t see you that way. Argyle was always telling you how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to be with someone so sexy. If only you could believe him.
It had been a few weeks since you two had had sex. You’d blamed the stress and busyness of the holiday season, but he knew there was something deeper. So on New Year’s Eve, when you were on his lap, nuzzling into his neck, he took the opportunity to bring it up.
“Baby,” he murmurs into your ear and slides a strong hand up your pajama shirt, “care to ring in the New Year with me?”
You warm at his touch, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. “I’m kinda sleepy,” you lie lamely, and he furrows his brows.
“Whas’ going on, my love?” Argyle’s voice is all concern; he’s forgotten about the prospect of sex and is only worried about what’s eating you.
“‘S just all the weight loss stuff, like, in my face,” you mumble, embarrassed just to admit it. “Hard seeing all these supermodels and knowing I’ll never look like them.”
Argyle’s lips peck kisses down your throat. “Don’t want you to look like them, anyway,” he tells you. “Love your beautiful curves.”
You sigh in exasperation. “But I want to look like them,” you protest quietly. “I don’t feel beautiful.”
He pauses, carefully choosing his response. “If you’ll let me,” he starts, staring into your eyes with his dark brown orbs, “I’d like to show you just how gorgeous I think you are.”
You nod, curious at what he has planned. Before you can ask any questions, he scoops you up in his arms, muscular from years of pizza-making. You giggle as he plunks you down onto the bed.
“Args,” you manage between peals of laughter, “what’re you doing?”
But Argyle is dead serious, licking his pillowy lips in concentration. “Gonna fuckin’ worship this body of yours, baby girl,” he muses.
His eyes roam your body hungrily. “Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging at the hem of your pajama shirt.
“Yeah,” you concede. Argyle lifts it over your head, exposing your bare chest. He exhales, a grin spreading across his face.
“So…fucking…perfect…” he breathes, punctuating each word with nipping kisses along your cleavage. You moan lightly, starting to lay down, but he grasps the small of your back and leads you back up.
“Nuh-uh,” he clicks his tongue and points to the full-length mirror that hangs on the closet door. “I want you to watch how sexy you are. Want you to see what I see.”
You’re uncertain, not fully believing that you’ll ever view yourself the way he does, but you reluctantly give it a shot. “Okay, baby. I…I trust you.” And you do. You know he wouldn’t lie to you, so you glance at yourself in the mirror. All you see are imperfections, and you instinctively curl up into yourself.
Argyle trails soft kisses from your neck to your collarbones. “You’re stunning, babe. Look at you. I’d devour you whole if that wasn’t considered cannibalism.” You feel a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. He just has a way of making you feel so safe, even in your most vulnerable moments.
His lithe fingers traipse along your breasts, nipples pebbled from both the chill in the air and his touch. “Baby girl, I dream about your tits. I wanna hold them, suck on them, fuck them, whatever I can to claim them as mine. All mine.” He smiles mischievously. “Can I tell you a secret? They’re my favorite place to cum. Just love seeing ‘em covered in me.”
His lips travel from your upper chest to your arms. “These arms, these hands,” he groans, throwing his head back. His long black hair brushes against your fingers. “Can’t lie to you, honey; I love watching you use your hands. Even when you’re using them to cook or write, I just…I’m mesmerized.”
You look at him incredulously. “My hands? Really?”
“Mhm,” he answers without hesitation. “‘Course, I’m partial to them being wrapped around my dick. Makes it look so big.”
“It is big, Args,” you start to argue, but he silences you with a deep, passionate kiss.
“It’s not about me tonight; it’s about you,” your boyfriend states simply. “I hate when you talk shit about yourself; you’re perfect for me. Fuck what anyone else looks like.” He pauses, gazing at you. “Am I some kinda buff body builder? Hell nah, man, but you love me, right?”
You nod. “Of course I do!” How could he think otherwise?
He slides down to his knees, opening your legs so he can seat himself between them. “I would spend every last minute of every day kissing your body to prove to you just how beautiful you are,” he whispers against your tummy, gripping your hips with his long fingers. “Like these thighs.” He squeezes the plush of your upper legs, sending tingles down your spine. “Jus’ perfect for grabbing and, uh, I fuckin’ love feeling them squeezing me when I eat this pretty pussy.” He blushes slightly at the admission before hooking his forefingers into the waistband of your pants and pulling them down, leaving you in just your panties.
“Now,” he continues, scooting you forward slightly so you’re at the edge of the bed, “your ass. I have this fantasy where you’re laying down, completely naked, and I just roll blunts on it. Is that, like, weird?”
You shake your head. “Kinda sexy, actually,” you admit, earning a chuckle from him.
“Right?” Argyle’s clearly ecstatic that you agree with him. “Maybe we could try it out sometime?” He bites his lower lip, and you lean over and take it between your own. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs.
His hands turn you over so you’re laying on your stomach. He kneads the doughy flesh of your ass, groaning harshly. “I could write, like, fuckin’ sonnets or whatever bullshit I was supposed to learn in school about this thing.” You feel a slight sting as his palm smacks into it, not hard enough to leave a print, but enough to make you wince. “Just…look at it. Never seen a more perfect ass in my whole life.”
Before he can flip you back over, he runs a finger down to your clothed pussy. “Shit, honey,” he exhales as you whimper at the contact, “I can feel how wet you are through your panties.”
“Because of y-you, Argyle,” you stammer. “Please k-keep touching me.”
“As you wish.” He clambers on top of you, kissing down your spine. Your body writhes underneath his mouth, aching for more.
“Argyle,” you whine impatiently. “Please.”
He brings his face closer to yours. “Is that not where you wanted me to touch?” He feigns confusion. “Did you want me to touch…here?” You inhale sharply when his middle finger ghosts over your clit.
“Y-yes. Fuck yes. Right there.”
“Mhm,” Argyle acknowledges, repositioning you on your back. He lowers himself back onto the floor between your trembling legs, pressing his lips to your throbbing cunt. The thin fabric of your panties has never felt so intrusive; all you want is for him to rip them off. Instead, he takes his time, slowly tugging them down your legs.
“This pussy,” he begins with a playful smirk on his face, “has me thinking absolutely sinful dirty thoughts.”
“Like what?”
He throws you a look that can only be interpreted as So glad you asked, baby.
“Like that time you rode me in the back of my van before my shift, and I was so fucked out I fell asleep before I could take a single order. Or the time I fingered you and you came so hard, it dripped down my fuckin’ arm.” He palms himself over his pants at the memory. “Makes me so horny, you have no idea.”
You squirm, making him laugh. “Okay, baby girl. I won’t make you wait any longer.” And with that, he dives between your thighs, licking at your folds. You give out a guttural moan when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently at first, but getting stronger as your whimpers get louder.
“Yes, Argyle. Feels s-so good. Yessss!” The bed rocks back and forth as he ruts against it, attempting to relieve the pressure in his pants. You hiss as he pushes a digit into your pussy, mouth still attentive to your sensitive bud.
“Too much or just enough?” he asks when you buck your hips into him.
“‘Nother finger,” you manage between breathy gasps, and he obliges. “Love being so full of you, Argyle. Love getting all your attention.”
He acknowledges your praise with a hum, sending vibrations through your sex and speeding up your release. His tongue hungrily laps at your cunt as his fingers plunge in and out of you at a rapid pace.
“Don’tstopdon’tstopohpleasedon’tstop,” you plead. “I’m coming, gonna cum for you.”
“Watch yourself cum, baby.” Argyle’s voice is slightly muffled, but you can hear his orders just fine. “Watch how fucking gorgeous you are when you cum for me.”
Your legs rest gracefully on his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cheeks, clenching as he hits your sweet spot over and over. Your tits heave as you lean into your orgasm. And in that moment, when you reach your peak, you see some of that beauty.
When your breathing slows and your legs stop shaking, Argyle pulls back and wipes his slick-covered mouth with his hand. “Still the sweetest pussy,” he coos.
“Let me take care of you,” you offer, motioning for him to come closer, but he just shakes his head and laughs.
“That, um, won’t be necessary.” His gaze lowers to the damp patch spreading on the crotch of his pants. “Got me so worked up just talking about how incredible you are, an’ when I started eating you out…couldn’t hold back.” He’s not embarrassed in the slightest; in fact, he seems downright proud that he got off making his girl cum.
“I love you,” you tell him, beaming. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you.”
“I love you more,” he says, and you just stick out your tongue in protest.
“Y’know,” you start cheekily, “that was really good. I could use a smoke after coming that hard.”
“Oh?” Argyle raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah…you wanna roll one for me?” You give a suggestive shake of your ass, knowing you have him in the palm of your hand.
And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
—
#kinkmas 2022#argyle#argyle stranger things#argyle smut#argyle x y/n#argyle x reader#argyle x fem!reader#argyle x you#argyle x female reader#argyle x f!reader#argyle fanfic#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#fanfic
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Write some dad bod adam
dude I'm sorry I'm seeing this so much later than when you asked im actually dumb but I gotchu xo ALSO kinda nsfw btw
Adam stanheight x reader (short)
It was a Sunday afternoon and I've just finished getting ready for the day, I woke up early to go to the gym with my boyfriend Adam but we both decided to blow it off and sleep till the afternoon. We wanted to go after realizing how chub we both gotten from the holidays - and honestly Adam has gained a bit of weight since the trap. Just stress eating and depression, nothing wrong with it, personally I love it but I just don't like how he got it, so I figured why not go out and get to the gym, we can be healthier people together. Usually we go a few times a week - until today - we stayed up late and considering how consistent we've been, we deserve a break.
I just finished making Adam and I some tea as I head back into the bedroom where Adam was still in bed.
"here you go lazy" I smile and hand him his mug, my eyes go to his shirtless chest making me smirk.
He groans and sits up "thanks sweetie", that nickname gives me butterflies every time.
I sit down infant of him on the bed and sip my tea.
"you know I feel kinda bad skipping the gym today, but sleeping in was totally worth it." Adam says before putting his mug down.
"oh dude totally." I nod.
He stretches his arms out and looks at me before grabbing the mug from my hand and placing it beside his on the bedside table.
"you know, we could still work out here." he runs his hands up my waist and to my neck where he pulls me in for a kiss.
I smile into the kiss and pull away looking at his sleepy dark eyes,
"yeah?" I say smiling, inches away from his hovering lips.
"uh huh.." he slowly kisses my cheek and moves his way down to my neck.
"Adam your gonna kiss away my makeup," My hands go up to his cheeks holding him and he kisses me neck and cheeks.
He looks back up at me smirking, "yeah yeah, you can fix it later, come'mere." He pulls my hips onto his lap then runs his hands down my thighs.
"ugh if you insist." jokingly I roll my eyes and kiss him.
His lips are the best thing to wake up to in the morning, my mind goes blank as he kisses me slowly and passionately, he bites me lip before going back In intensely.
I moan quietly while my hands travel down his stomach, I love hoe he's bigger than me, more overpowering and strong. He can easily move and throw me around and I love it.
Adam pulls away from the kiss to look at me.
"You always get me so riled up in the morning," he smiles and rests his head up against the wall behind him.
"oh I can tell," I smirk "I can feel it." I move my hips and feel him under me, teasing me with every move.
"I can help youuu" I say tilting my head while holding his cheeks.
"really?'' he says coming back to my face.
''what do you want to do?'' his hand hols my cheek and slowly moves his thumb over my pink lipglosses lips that Adam has now smudged, his thumb pulls my bottom lip down before kissing me again.
he smells like cologne and cigarettes, the perfect ingredients for sexy. His smells turns me on - making him so hard to resist, but his kisses distract me from taking this moment further.
"Adam your distracting me, don't you want help"
he smiles and kisses my cheek before looking at me.
"your letting me distract you, thought you were gonna help me work out" He says with a jokingly confused face.
"you can help me out in the shower, cmon."
"I already show-" Before I could finish he picks me up, carrying bridal style to the bathroom making me giggle.
"adaaaam!"
"you can be extra clean! I can help you wash" He says raising his eyebrows convincingly.
"oh shut up." he finally lets me down while I roll my eyes.
He closes the bathroom door then walks over to me.
Adam holds my waist bringing him to his chest, our lips close.
"you ready to workout?'' he asks before moving his hands under my shirt.
"uh huh." I smile and kiss him.
SORRY IF I LEFT ON A CLIFFHANGER IM LAZY BUT IF U WANT MORE LET ME KNOW ILL TRY MY BEST.
AND SEND MORE REQUESTS IF ANYONE WANTS - I PROMISE TO ACTUALLY LOOK THIS TIME HA
#saw 2004#adam stanheight#adam faulkner stanheight#leigh whannell#adam stanheight x reader#saw movies#adam faulkner x reader#babygirladam#pookieadam#deadguyinbathroom
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"I meant going out for dinner or something!"
Previous — Next
Transcript Below ↓
[After the holidays, Pandora promised herself that she'll spend the rest of the winter vacation working out to lose the weight she's gained while pregnant. She wants to lose the 50 pounds and hopefully keep them off. Pandora told the family about this goal, and they all volunteered to help her reach that goal. Right now, it's she's with Ophelia.]
Pandora: *sighs* You know it's your father's fault I gained all this weight.
Ophelia: *confused* How's it daddy's fault?
Pandora: He kept bringing me everything that I was craving.
Ophelia: *giggles* Mom, you didn't have to eat it. Like self-control is a thing for a reason.
Pandora: Self-control's a damn lie when it's three in the morning, and you have a double chocolate cake staring at you.
Ophelia: Replace that double chocolate cake with a double-cheese burger, and I'll totally understand.
Pandora: *sighs* You're making me hungry.
Ophelia: Sorry.
Pandora: It's okay, let's change the subject. Your report card came in, right?
Ophelia: Yes! And before you asked, Mom, I passed all of my classes.
Pandora: Even Algebra?
Ophelia: With almost flying colors!
Pandora: *grins* Oh, I'm so proud of you, baby.
Ophelia: *delighted* I'm proud of myself too. I was so scared when taking that Algebra test, but all the studying with Scarlett and Jaxi paid off.
Pandora: It really did. We should do something to celebrate.
Ophelia: We don't need to do anything, and besides, after you see Percy's report card, you wouldn't want to do anything.
Pandora: *sighs* How bad?
Ophelia: Kinda bad, but he really did try his best.
Pandora: And you brought it up because why?
Ophelia: Because Percy thought I could do some magic and smooth things over.
Pandora: That boy. Did he really try?
Ophelia: Yeah. I think by the end of this year, he'll get all Bs.
Pandora: *nods* Good, but I'm still going to talk to him.
Ophelia: Mom...
Pandora: Yes?
Ophelia: Can I have a mini goat?
Pandora: You cannot be serious.
Ophelia: Oh, I'm totally serious. I passed all my tests, and you said I deserved something.
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The Invasion...Chapter Twenty-One
Summary: Mad Sweeney could not recall the last true believer he had. Sure, he’d been brought over as one of the Fair Folk, but it was different. A sliver of the truth, a dim shadow of what he was really owed. The belief of someone who followed traditions, not him.
That changed when he arrived in Cairo.
That changed when he laid eyes on you and he found that one didn’t have to believe in the myth to believe in the man.
A/N: FINALLY!!! This chapter has been such a long time coming, and it’s lovely and amazing and I really love this chapter :) I hope you will, too!!! (Hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for it being so long since it updated ;;;; )
Chapters: Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fourteen-ish || Chapter Fifteen || Chapter Sixteen || Chapter Seventeen || Chapter Eighteen || Chapter Nineteen || Chapter Twenty || Chapter Twenty-One || Chapter Twenty-Two
Requests: Mad Sweeney and The Holidays || The Invasion and the Stressful Blows
One Shots: The Invasion and That One Thankful Holiday || The Invasion and the Weight of Change || Eyes On You
The Invasion and the Spark
Seeing the ‘Welcome to Cairo’ sign didn’t bring you a sense of nostalgia like you thought it would. Relief, yes – the awkward silence would finally cease – but there wasn’t any kind of nostalgia attached to it. It wasn’t home anymore.
You followed Sweeney off the bus and away from the station, both of you not saying a word. What could you say? Well, you knew what you could say, but you weren’t sure how to. You didn’t think he’d listen, either. Not yet. Instead, you two walked.
As you both rounded a street corner, you heard a high and curious, “Mrah?” followed by an excited churr. Both were so loud that you and Sweeney looked up. A familiar lithe dark form darted down the sidewalk, her tail high in the air, her ears forward and eyes focused on your face. She jumped to you from a few feet away, and you caught her, just like she expected. Her small head butted against your chin, and you smiled.
“Hi, Bast,” you murmured. You squeezed her close, shoving your face into her warm fur, and she sprawled across your shoulder and purred.
Sweeney shifted his weight, stepping behind you, and poked the small goddess’s nose. “Troublemaker.”
She gave him a halfhearted hiss.
“I don’t have anything for you,” you whispered as you walked with her, gently scratching her back, “But I still have your pumpkin! So, um, I can give you that back?” She purred louder. “And I’ll need to give IOUs to Mr. Ibis and Mr. Jacquel. I haven’t had time to pick up their gifts yet.”
“Yer gettin’ ‘em gifts?” Sweeney grunted behind you.
You glanced up at him. “Well, yeah?” you murmured, “I mean, I owe them…for the whole…truck? Thing?” It felt weird that those were the first words you’d said to him in hours. Bast’s claws dug into your shoulder as she kneaded the skin.
Sweeney’s steps slowed. You turned around. He was frowning at the ground, brow knit together. “Forgot about that,” he whispered.
Bast lifted her head and licked your chin, trying to help with your suddenly pounding heart. The accident wasn’t even that long ago, and you’d died – almost died? – you’d gone somewhere, and he’d forgotten? You squeezed her again.
Sweeney moved around you to continue the rest of the way to the funeral parlor. He faltered as he stepped onto the porch. It felt like a thousand years since he’d last stood on it. If asked, he’d probably say he felt like a completely different person. But, if asked by someone else, he’d say that nothing had changed. He’d felt it as he sat next to you on a bus through hours of silence. He might’ve gained some kind of emotion, might’ve felt more than a few times that he’d didn’t deserve to die, but it didn’t change his fate: he was overdue, and he could feel the shadow of death seeping into his skin.
At least he knew the face of death.
He shoved open the door, holding it open with his foot to let you and Bast in.
Bast wriggled until you gently set her down. Then, you offered her the old and chewed pumpkin toy, which she took and gave a little shake. She trotted down the hall, led by the tinkling sound of a bell.
“Visitors?” came a voice from further inside.
Sweeney gently curled a hand around your hip to move you aside enough to shut the door.
“No,” he loudly called.
There was a hurried clatter of instruments being set down, punctuated by deep, amused chuckles. You recognized Mr. Ibis’s face despite never having seen him in person. You wondered how that worked. He cupped your face with warm, bare hands.
“Huh,” he whispered, “That place of yours doesn’t lie to anyone, does it?”
“Guess not,” you replied, “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Ibis.”
“Likewise, little ibis,” he said with a smile.
“Little whutnow?” grunted Sweeney.
Mr. Ibis slid a hand around your shoulders and led you through the parlor. “Come, this way, Mr. Jacquel would also like to see you.”
You twisted your hands around the straps of your bag. “I would’ve brought you both something,” you stuttered, “A thank you for what you did for me, but we didn’t stop anywhere that would have anything that could do you justice.”
“Nonsense,” said the familiar, deep voice of Mr. Jacquel, “If anyone holds a debt to us, it would be Bast.”
Mr. Ibis led you into their work room, where a body laid upon their table. You exhaled slowly, trying not to point out the obvious, when Bast jumped into the first clear space she could find on said table and shook her pumpkin at them. The men exchanged a look you could not decipher. A hand on the table slapped at Bast’s tail.
“Hey, no? Get the cat off me!” came another familiar voice.
You ducked free of Mr. Ibis’s arm and around Mr. Jacquel to find Laura’s face. She looked up at you. Her eyes were far cloudier than they’d been the last time you saw her. Still, despite the obvious decay, she grinned. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey, yourself,” you mumbled, “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Train,” answered everyone else in the room. One voice turned you around to stare at the very familiar form of Mr. Wednesday. You tensed. You didn’t know he’d be there.
He wiggled his fingers at you. “We would’ve been out of here before you arrived, but our dearly departed is making it very difficult for our friends to do their jobs,” he mused.
‘We’ implied him and Laura, and the thought sent a chill down your spine.
“To be fair,” remarked Mr. Ibis, “It is more difficult to put together a dead body the longer it is dead. Especially when it’s been running around in the Spring weather, freezing and thawing, soaking in water for long periods of time--”
“I didn’t hold ‘er under that long,” griped Sweeney.
All eyes turned to him. You snorted in a small attempt to keep your laughter at bay, though it didn’t go unnoticed that he remembered that, but not the accident.
(A voice whisper that maybe you just weren’t that memorable after all.)
Bast’s head slid under your hand. You rubbed her ears with a small smile. With a shake of the pumpkin, she stepped over Laura’s head and down off the table, heading through an open door into an office. You trailed after her. She trotted across the floor to a desk set between two windows, turned towards the center of the office. Across from it was a massive bookshelf, spanning the room, standing all the way to the ceiling, and filled with thick books. You trailed your fingers over them, sliding behind the two chairs that faced the desk.
You stopped at one very familiar spine. You traced the old leather, hooking your fingers over the top and tugged it free. It was heavier than it was in the Library and carried the smell of ink and old paper and homemade glue. The gold leaf had been restored, as had the designs that curled across the spine from the front and back covers – they were branches, decorated with painted green leaves. The front cover was still damaged, still wasn’t the original, but it, too, had been restored to what it could have been a long time ago. Sweeney’s name looped across the front in beautiful golden swirls.
You sank into one of the chairs, staring at it. How different was it from the one you had almost memorized? Would it be different at all? Would it be missing pieces? Would you still be there?
A loud ‘thunk’ drew you from your thoughts and jolted the book in your hands. You lifted it and smiled, shaking your head at Bast as she climbed up between your legs and into your lap. You set the book aside and held her.
The two of you stayed there in the quiet, listening but not listening to the sounds in the other room – Wednesday’s voice, then Sweeney’s, then Laura’s, the Wednesday’s again. You shoved your face against Bast’s fur. She purred.
“I messed up,” you whispered, “I did something I didn’t realize wasn’t wanted and now Sweeney’s angry, and he’s starting to forget things with me and?” Your voice caught in your throat. You squeezed her harder, pulling your feet onto the deep set chair. Bast gave a slight beep. You loosened your grip. She squirmed around, sliding out of your arms to sit on the chair next to you. You scrubbed your face. “What if I messed everything up for good? What if I’m just not as important to him as I thought? What if—”
A paw, complete with claws slightly extended, smacked hard against your cheek and was quickly followed by an annoyed and loud meow in your ear. You pulled away, gasping faintly, looking over at Bast’s very annoyed and narrowed eyes. She yelled again. She stared. You stared. You sighed and brushed your fingers over her head, scratching the spots behind her ears.
“I need to apologize,” you whispered to her. She purred, headbutting your palm. “I know,” you confirmed, “I just dunno how.”
“Perhaps I could offer some advice.” The voice startled you, made you jump and twist to face the owner, who merely smiled and held a hand up in apology. “You didn’t hear me,” said Mr. Ibis with a small nod. Bast climbed across your lap and jumped down to the floor, weaving through his legs and out to the front parlor. Mr. Ibis motioned to the empty seat next to you. “May I?” he asked.
“It’s your house,” you replied.
He sat, smoothing a hand down the front of his vest, and said, “That may be, but you are a guest occupying the room. I would hate to interrupt you.”
“That’s very kind, Mr. Ibis,” you said, “What, um--” You turned in the chair, bringing a leg up so you could face him better, “What advice do you have?”
He crossed his legs at the knee, leaning an elbow on the arm of the chair as he hummed in thought. “Not every story is easy to hear,” he said after a moment, “But every story has an ear that it's meant for, despite the feelings of the owner.”
“What if he didn’t wanna know?” you whispered.
“I’ve found that Fate doesn’t care about the wants of man,” he answered, “Or anyone, for that matter.”
You smiled a little. “Awfully cryptic,” you pointed out.
He shrugged with a smile of his own. “It’s a habit,” he said, “But it’s not terrible advice.” He waded through your contemplative silence. “I am glad to see you here, in one piece,” he said.
“I’d planned to bring you something as repayment, but we didn’t stop anywhere that would’ve done you justice.,” you replied, scratching your jaw, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing to be sorry for,” he said, “We both agreed, as we told you many times – it was a debt that Bast owed.”
“Still,” you sighed, “I want to.” Then, after a moment, you added, “Repayment for your advice.”
Mr. Ibis had the grace to chuckle. “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that, I suppose.”
You smiled. He was much more personable than you’d thought. Maybe it was because of who he was, or maybe it was because of who he’d become. You looked down at your lap, twisting your fingers together while sorting through all the different things you wished to say to him.
Mr. Ibis stood before you got a chance. “You know,” he murmured as he rose, “Mr. Wednesday is staying a while before he leaves again.” He shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “If you want to speak with him about anything.” He left, heading back to the workshop.
You waited a few more minutes, then stood and headed to the greenhouse. The door creaked when you pulled it open, protesting as you crossed the threshold. You stepped out into the room. It was warm, and sticky, oppressive even, and the weight of the air and the man in it pushed through your skin to your soul. Wednesday didn’t acknowledge you as you crossed the room to stand in the shadow of a sapling tree. He didn’t have to; he knew you were there.
(“An ash I know there stands, Yggdrasil is its name, a tall tree, showered with shining loam.”)
You stared at the branches of the growing thing and wondered if its branches could hold weight yet.
“Been a while since we talked, hasn’t it?” he asked as you approached.
“Yeah,” you confirmed, “Saw you last at that Motel America.”
“Yes, but when did we last talk, huh?” He arched an eyebrow, then looked down, pushing a large paper bag to you with his foot. “I believe I owe you quite a bit of backpay. All those weeks where we didn’t talk.”
A sour taste flooded your mouth as you took the bag. You knew it had a hefty sum inside, but you couldn’t fathom taking it. You’d put it into a bank, maybe. Tell your sister about it. “At the Rock. When I ripped into you,” you finally answered, “That was the last time we talked. Before that, it was when you offered me a job.”
“Huh. Has it really been that long?” he mused. He cocked his head to the side. “Ripped is such a strong word for what you did. I’d call it more of a light scolding.”
You scoffed. You rolled the words you wanted to say around in your mouth as you stared at the money. You knew it was stolen, it had to be. And you were worried that it didn’t bother you. “I wanna talk about Sweeney’s deal,” you finally said.
Mr. Wednesday hummed, wagging a finger. “Aren’t you two on the outs for you overstepping your bounds already?” he asked.
You shrugged and stood. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from him, it’s that if you’re already in trouble, you might as well keep digging,” you said.
“That’s terrible advice,” Wednesday countered.
“I never said it was good advice,” you said. You balled the cuffs of your shirt in your hands. You knew that he knew whose shirt it used to be. In fact, you were sure that almost everyone knew of your relationship with Sweeney. It was hard not to. Wednesday couldn’t do anything by pointing it out. “He’s done everything you asked of him. I think it’s fair if you released him from employment.”
“He’s done when I say he’s done,” Wednesday flatly replied.
“If that’s the case, then you could have him work until his death,” you huffed.
Wednesday smirked something that said, “That’s the plan.”
You shuffled your feet, frowning, trying to reorganize your argument. “You,” you started with a sigh, “You said you’d give him a war that he could die in, and, in exchange, he’d work for you.”
“Exactly,” said the god with all the contempt of an upset child, “And he hasn’t fulfilled his end of the agreement.” He gestured to nowhere. “Have you met the man? It’s easier to pull teeth from a rotten mouth than to get him to do anything resembling a job.”
“Doing the job right when you ask wasn’t part of your agreement,” you argued, “Only that he do the job. And, for the time that we’ve been together, he’s completed every job you asked of him.” You slowly sank to the floor, curling your legs around the bag of money. “Whined and bitched and complained about them the whole time, but he did them.” When Wednesday said nothing, you continued, “And the deal was that he’d do those jobs if you gave him a war he could die in. The power word in that is ‘could’, and we are in the middle of a war, aren’t we?” You glanced up at him. “You made sure of that.” You unrolled the top of the bag. “If you’d said you’d give him a war he WOULD die in, that would be different – the deal would be fulfilled when he died, and he couldn’t get out of it.” You tilted your head. “Learned that, too – the fae are pretty fickle about their deals.”
“And I’m sure you’ve learned, that the fae like to handle their own dealings,” Wednesday finally said. You scowled. “You’ve learned quite a bit since I first offered you this job. I’m impressed.” His hand patted the top of your head in a condescending manner. “Almost impressed enough to do what you ask, but I digress. He’s gotta want out of his little deal, and, from what I hear, he’s been itchin’ to die lately.” His fingers fell from your head as he turned back to the door. “Wonder why.” He paused a few steps away to say, “You’re awfully trusting to believe the words of a man who couldn’t even remember that you died.”
Then, he left the greenhouse.
You stared at Yggdrasil, picking apart the brown paper bag, letting his words circle in your head like they would a drain.
Bast quietly sat next to you.
“We don’t need to tell him about this,” you whispered to her.
She headbutted your hand and rolled onto her side. You stayed sitting for a while, staring absently at the money, scratching Bast’s stomach until she was drifting off into a catnap. You only pulled your hand away to shoot a text off to the Morrigan, then returned it to her belly when she patted your arm. You would’ve stayed until the sun set, but the door behind you was shoved open by a violent hand.
“I need your opinion,” Laura demanded as she stalked towards you. You looked up, grabbing the bag as she wrapped a hand around your arm and yanked you up. “Your boyfriend is being insufferable.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” came the automatic groan as you followed her. She ignored you, dragging you through the building to the room she’d been lying in when you’d arrived, depositing you near Sweeney’s elbow. He leaned against the open window, puffing angrily on a crumpled cigarette. He glanced at you, huffing through his nose, annoyance clear in his eyes. Across from the both of you was Mr. Wednesday, looking for all the world like the cat who caught the canary.
Laura crossed her arms. “Option A,” she presented with a jerk of her head towards Wednesday, “Leave now and get my fucking humanity back, be alive again. Guaranteed.”
You wondered what caveats came with that.
She waved a hand to Sweeney. “Option B: go deal with some crazies in New Orleans that an even more crazy fuck puts his trust in who MIGHT be able to make me alive again,” she snarled.
You snapped your head up to Sweeney. “Mardis Gras Jesus?” you asked.
He snorted and something like a smile tugged up his mouth. “No,” he scoffed, muttering, “That bastard’d never flash his branch and berries for plastic beads.” His eyes flicked down to you, then the smile faded, and he looked away.
Your chest hurt. You hugged the bundle of money to your chest. “Which one do you wanna do?” you asked.
“I wanna be fucking human,” she snapped, “I wanna be fucking alive.”
You took a deep breath. “Then go with your gut, Laura. You’re not gonna listen to what I say, regardless, because what you wanna do is what you’re gonna do,” you said. She was already turning to Wednesday before you finished.
Sweeney clicked his tongue, finishing the cigarette between his fingers like he was timed, and stalked through the parlor. You took another deep breath, exhaling, staring at nothing as you tried to calm the burn that built in your chest. You needed to talk to him, and you knew there was no better time than the present. You scooped up your backpack as you walked into the office again, shoving the bundle of money inside, and carried it with you to the only shut door in the back of the building.
The handle turned when you tried it. You stepped inside and pulled it shut behind you. Somewhere beyond it, you heard Laura heading out with Mr. Wednesday, chasing a lead on her humanity. Before you, sitting on the bed you almost hoped you would share, was the option she’d spurned. He dropped one finished cigarette and brought another to his lips, puffing away while glaring at the floor. He didn’t look at you. You didn’t even think he realized you were there.
The dainty pawing through the door spurred the words to fall from your mouth, “I’m sorry.” You dropped the bag by your feet and repeated yourself, “I’m sorry.”
Sweeney finally looked up. He froze, prey caught in a crosshair, coughing on lungs full of smoke when the breath caught in his throat.
It didn’t stop the words from spilling out – just like before – you needed to learn some kind of filter to hold back the emotional word vomit. “I’m sorry for overstepping and looking into something you didn’t want to know, and then telling you, and upsetting you, and I didn’t mean to, I thought you’d want to know, want to remember, because you just looked so sad all the time when you talked about your past and I just wanted to make it better.”
He stood up while you rambled, tugging you away from the door and into his arms as he squeezed you close. You dug your fingers under his jacket and twisted them into his tank top.
“And ‘m sorry for asking if you were coming back, I dunno where it came from, I dunno why I didn’t think you would, I dunno why I asked,” you continued, the sentences slurring into one another as the emotions crested into your throat. “Please don’t be mad at me anymore, Sweeney, I know I broke something, and you don’t have to fix that just because I said ‘m sorry, but please don’t be mad anymore, I’m sorry. I thought--”
“I told you thinkin’ was dangerous, luv, and look what happened,” he mumbled. He squeezed you tighter.
You responded in kind, turning your head to shove your face into his dirty shirt. You stayed there, breathing in the smell of him, ignoring the obvious signs that he needed a shower to stay in the cloud of him. You turned your head enough to mumble, “Do you really not wanna die?”
“No,” he rasped against your hair, “I really don’t.”
You squeezed him again, then sighed. “I talked to Wednesday,” you whispered.
He tensed beneath your fingers. Carefully, Sweeney sat back on the bed, tugging you into his lap when he refused to release you. “What about?” he hesitantly asked.
“You,” you replied. You felt his head move and looked up to meet his gaze. “In my defense, you weren’t talking to me.”
“’s been a day, luv,” he pointed out.
“And, around you, that feels like years,” you argued. Your heart skipped. You hadn’t meant for the words to sound so intimate, and yet, they had. You tried to recover with, “It was about your deal.”
Sweeney released you, holding you by the arms to get a look at your face. If you weren’t so close – not physically, but in every other way that counted – you would’ve missed the glimmer of hope that shot through his gaze. “And?” he asked, voice wavering with uncertainty.
You looked down at the coin that rested above the hem of his shirt, then at your hands that sat in your lap. He squeezed your arms, then released you. You stood. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I thought I gave him a pretty good reason to let you out of it, but he’s gotta hard on for keeping you in his employ.”
He grunted, but didn’t say anything else. You rubbed your neck, taking the spot next to him on the bed. “What was all that, by the way? With Laura?” you asked.
“Dead Wife wants to live, obviously,” he muttered, “Grimnir gave her one option, I gave her another.”
(The voice asked why he wanted her alive so badly.)
“You really want your coin back, don’t you?” you teased.
Sweeney groaned and covered his face, flopping backwards onto the mattress. “’m tired of this shitty luck!” he swore into his palms, “Bran willin’ if I get it back in my fuckin’ lifetime!” He shoved his hands into his hair. “And fuck knows ‘m tired of ‘er!”
“What was your option?” you asked, “You didn’t give me a good description beyond something close to Mardis Gras Jesus.”
His head lolled towards you, and he grinned that slow, lazy grin of his. You kicked off your shoes and sat further up onto the bed, crossing your legs and waving for him to start. He, in turn, kicked off his boots and sprawled out next to you, spinning you a tale of the Loa in the South, all while twirling his handcrafted charm around his fingers.
His voice filled the room with his story, his words carefully weaving together a history you had barely heard of. You turned and laid next to him, staring at the darkening ceiling. He talked for hours, as though making up for the time that he wasn’t talking, that he wasn’t lost somewhere in his head while you two traveled to Cairo. His hand eventually found yours as he told you of the two that he still planned to meet – Maman Brigette, and the Baron Samedi. His thumb rubbed a circle into your skin.
“Wait, you still wanna go?” you asked as you sat up, staring down at him, tracing his features in the muted street light.
He shoved his free hand behind his head and watched you in return. “Obviously,” he said. He waved your intwined hands. “Look, Grimnir’s option’s gonna fuckin’ sink like a bag a rocks, right? And while I hate the cunt, the Dead Wife’s gonna need ‘em and I will not miss the one sure fire fuckin’ opportunity to get my fuckin’ coin back.”
You extended a finger towards his face. “I tried to give it back to you,” you pointed out.
He opened his mouth to argue, stopped, snapped his jaw shut and scrunched his face at you. “Shuddup, luv,” he grumbled.
You smiled, letting your two hands fall into your lap. Then, you whispered, “You remember it now?”
He frowned a little, squeezing your fingers. “’s fuzzy. Like it’s tryin’ to all line back up right, but backwards.”
You gave him a squeeze back. “Let’s get washed up,” you said after a long moment, “And get some sleep. Okay?”
He nodded, sighing, and sat up. “You go ahead. You look like shite, luv,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and released his hand. “Thanks.”
You took your time showering. You knew that, in reality, it hadn’t been that long since you’d showered. Hardly a day. But, you thought as you pressed the hot cloth over your face, it wasn’t just dirt and sweat you were washing off, and you knew it. Your muscles sagged beneath your skin as the hot water hit you. Maybe you’d actually sleep well.
At some point, as you forced yourself to relax beneath the water, the door open, and Sweeney grabbed your clothes, setting some clean ones on the counter while shouting, “Shit better not stink like the dead when it’s washed!”
“I promise it won’t,” replied the familiar voice of Mr. Jacquel.
The door didn’t close. You waited for him to say something, anything, as you turned off the water. Instead, he threw a towel over the curtain bar. You dried off. He threw you your clothes one article at a time, tossing them high into the air. You tried not to laugh but felt the amused giggles bubble from your lips. Once you were dressed, you shoved the curtain aside and stared at Sweeney’s wide grin.
“Whut?” he asked, leaning against the sink.
“You’re a dork,” you replied. He scrunched his nose and shrugged, fighting the genuine smile that tried to stretch across his lips. You found yourself mirroring it.
(You both thought the moment was out of time – a space for just the two of you, outside of the chaos that swirled around.)
You tossed him the damp towel as you stepped past. “Your turn.” Then, you turned and added, “I’ll make sure to throw your clothes in with the extra dead smelling ones.”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ ass,” he grunted. You pulled the door closed and listened to the shower start, counted to ten, then opened it again to collect the clothes he left on the floor. “I mean it!” he shouted after you.
“No promises!” you replied. You pulled the door shut, holding the wad of clothes to your chest, and smiled. It felt normal. You felt normal. You pushed away and followed the sounds of Mr. Ibis and Mr. Jacquel to a small closet off the parlor, where a stacked washer and dryer had been hidden behind a sliding shutter door. You handed over the clothes when Mr. Jacquel offered.
“Mr. Ibis,” you asked as the washer started. The man arched an elegant brow. “Your books--”
“Are not for casual perusal,” he cut in. However, he smiled, and added, “But a book from your library is yours to read, of course.”
“Though, many have been known to try,” added Mr. Jacquel. He gave your arm a pat as he passed. “Would you like a beer?”
“Sure,” you politely agreed.
Mr. Ibis scooped powered soap into the washer. “You want to know if I have your book,” he stated more than asked. You leaned against the shutters. “Why?”
“I wanna know if it says what’s in store,” you answered. You stuck your fingers between the slats. “If things turn out different than they’re predicted to.”
“That’s something you’re not meant to know,” he said, “Neither am I. Only prophets and fortune tellers know outside of those pesky omnipotent godheads.”
You smiled. “Maybe I’ll just find a Jesus, then,” you teased.
“He would be able to answer you, if you asked the correct way,” Mr. Ibis replied. He turned on the washer and closed the lid. “You could read your Library’s book, however. It was originally yours.”
“Maybe I will,” you sighed. You pushed away from the shuttered door. He closed the small closet. “Mr. Ibis?” you asked again.
“Yes?” he curiously replied, stopping half a turn from your elbow.
You hesitated. “Do you know who he is?” You turned to him. The twilight that fell through the room mingled with the yellowed glass lamps and turned the space into something it wasn’t. If you let your mind wander far enough, you could imagine that you stood amongst the dunes in Egypt before a god who knew anything and everything that would ever be written. “Who he really is?” you added.
“I do,” said the Ibis headed god, “Would you like to know?”
The sun disappeared behind the trees of Cairo, leaving behind the mocking glow of the lamps above your head. Mr. Ibis adjusted his glasses.
“Not yet,” you finally answered, “Not if he doesn’t really want to know. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
He smiled. Then, giving your arm a squeeze, he excused himself.
You wandered back to the office.
Sweeney stared at the floor of the shower, thoughts swirling down the drain he couldn’t even focus on. So many memories fought for their rightful place in his head, so many that he didn’t understand how he could’ve forgotten. He knew there were more, past the foggy images of his wife and child from centuries past, memories that sat in the gray-green space that made his mouth turn sour. He scrubbed his face and slid down the wall until he sat in the cramped bathtub, shoving his head against his arms while digging his ragged nails into his neck. He groaned, swearing at the stabbing pain that lanced through his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew he should’ve brought a beer with him, or something.
“You’re awake.”
“Yes. How did you get into my apartment?”
His eyes opened. That memory was so clear – when he really saw you for the first time, heard your voice for the first time, when he knew without understanding that he could never leave your side for the first time, despite the events that immediately followed. Everything after was just as clear and grew sharper by the second the longer he lingered on the memories until he thought they were imprinted into ceramic of the bathtub. He slid his hands down his shoulders and squeezed his arms.
“You’re gonna leave me? After everything, you’re gonna just leave me?”
“No.”
He stood, scrubbing his hair and face and body to ensure he’d rinsed off, then shut off the water. He shoved the curtain open and squinted at the clean clothes that sat on the sink counter, then examined his fingers. They were pruned. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been in the shower. He dressed, shaking his head to fling the excess water free, and shuffled out. The room was empty, as was the hall when he entered, and the kitchen when he took the long way through the home. He snagged a bottle from the fridge and wandered to the front room, then the parlor, and finally the office, where he found you, curled up in a chair with a book in your lap.
You were almost halfway through it, when he bothered to look away from your face. It must’ve been good, too, as you hadn’t noticed him. He leaned against the door frame, twisting his fists around the neck and body of the bottle in his grasp. Then, he just watched you: watched your eyes dart across the pages, watched your mouth quirk with the scenes that played through your mind, watched the glow that filled your face as you enjoyed something.
Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to have you look at him like that. He pushed away from the wall.
“’s that?” Sweeney’s slurred voice surprised you, drawing your attention away from the book in your lap. He leaned back against Mr. Ibis’s desk and twisted open a bottle of the Egyptians’ red alcohol. “Been a long time since I caught you readin’,” he mumbled around the bottle.
You shrugged, closing your book, staring absently at the cover. You couldn’t remember what it was about, not really. A monster princess. A desperate prince. No plot or descriptions stuck in your mind. “Thought that, maybe, I’d be able to distract myself,” you whispered. You set the book on top of the one you’d pulled from the shelves earlier, centering them in the middle of the side table. He was staring at his book when you looked up, eyes trained on the spine, hand absently holding the bottle to his mouth.
“That mine?” he finally asked.
You nodded. “You can’t read it,” you quickly said, pushing it towards the back edge of the table when he stepped forward. He huffed. “Mr. Ibis said so.” You shook your head. “Besides, the first third of your book is empty.”
“What, you readin’ my book now?” he asked.
You tapped your fingers against it and sighed. “It’s actually the one from the Library,” you said.
He squinted. “What Library?” He stepped closer and turned around, sitting on the ground in front of you, leaning back on your legs.
You pulled them up into the chair and adjusted yourself, threading a hand into his clean hair. “I told you about it. The place that I dream of a lot. The place I ran into the Egyptians after the car crash,” you explained.
Sweeney relaxed. “Right,” he mumbled, “You told me ‘bout it at the Rock.”
At least he remembered that.
You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Right,” you murmured. You combed your fingers through his hair, disturbing the style. He tried not to move, even when he drank from the bottle still dangling from his fingers. The quiet was comforting.
Eventually, he leaned his head back to knock against your shins. Your fingers paused their ministrations. Something hung in the air, like the room knew he wanted to speak. You drew your hand back from his hair and watched him lean forward, clumsily turning around. He hooked an arm around one knee while he glanced at you, then let his eyes fall to the book beside you.
“Been thinkin’,” he mumbled.
“That’s dangerous,” you quickly cut in.
He nudged your chair, a smile creeping across his face. “Been thinkin’,” he started again, hesitated, then sighed, “Maybe I wanna know the rest of it.”
It took you a minute to piece together what he was saying. “The rest of your story?” you asked, sitting up, “The rest of your memory?” He nodded. “What made you wanna do that?”
“’memberin’ the first parts,” he rasped. He rolled forward, tucking his legs under his massive frame with ease as he grabbed your knees with both hands, pulling you to the edge of the chair. He knocked his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, tracing your fingers over the backs of his arms. “’s all still fuzzy, like some bullshit dream or yer arm when you sleep wrong, but ‘s comin’ back,” he whispered into your space.
“And?” you breathed.
He settled between your knees, his hands following your legs back to the swell of your ass, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to graze along your back. It was different than the other times he’d touched you – slight, hesitant, like you’d grow fuzzy and vanish the way his memories once had. It wasn’t like when he’d cornered you after a shower, or the hotel when you’d sparred, or when you found him after his coin was filched, or the alley, or any other time you’d wanted to grab him by the collar and pull him in, but it wasn’t unlike them, either. His nose brushed your face, his mouth a breath away from yours, and his cheek slid against yours as he set his head on your shoulder.
You squeezed him close, praying to someone that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart pounded in your chest.
(He did, and he, in turn, hoped that you couldn’t feel how his beat in time with it.)
“Dunno how you’d do it,” he finally mumbled into your shoulder, “But you got that kinda magic to find that kinda thing.”
“That almost sounds like a favor,” you whispered.
He snorted, his arms tightening until something gave in your back, then he released you. He sat back on his heels, eyes darting across your face. “Maybe,” he replied, “’s for information, anyway.” His fingers trailed into your hands. They dangled between you both.
You shrugged. Your eyes dropped to your entwined hands, then back to his face. “What do I get out of it?”
“Oh, now, ya need somethin’ for a favor, huh?” he teased.
“That’s how it works,” you said, “Nothing’s free, right?”
“Not in this line a work.”
You snorted. Glancing up, you found him watching you again. He squeezed your fingers. “Mr. Ibis knows,” you whispered, “I asked him. We could find out now.”
You would’ve missed his widening eyes if you didn’t know him so well. He twisted his hand in yours to hold you differently, then finally looked down at them. “Maybe after Nola,” he grumbled. He brought both your hands up and kissed your knuckles. “Gotta think of how to repay ya.”
You could think of something, if he really wanted to know.
Sweeney stood and tugged you from the chair. You let him. “When are we leaving?” you asked.
He traced the line of your jaw, then released your hands with a groan. “’m ready to get all this fuckin’ over with when you are, luv,” he grumbled.
You picked up the book you’d been reading. “Then let’s go.”
Bast lifted her head as you and Sweeney entered the hall, tracking your movements back into the bedroom you both shared. She watched you pace back and forth as you repacked your backpack to make room for the money Mr. Wednesday had given you and watched again as you both exited the room as quietly as possible and slipped down the hall to the door. She followed you both to the patio, where she released a loud and obnoxious cry to gain your attention.
(“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?!”)
Sweeney snorted as you scooped the minute goddess into your arms. “Yer easy to miss.”
She hissed.
(“I will destroy you, leprechaun.”)
Bast lowered her head onto your shoulder as you started to walk. She didn’t pay attention to your conversation, choosing only to enjoy the rumble of your chest as you spoke, until she was lulled into a comfortable doze. She was particularly unhappy when Sweeney pulled her from your warm embrace and set her on the ground.
“Gotta go,” he grunted.
You knelt and pressed a kiss to her head. She preened, sitting up to headbutt your chin, and watched you board the bus with wide, loving eyes.
What a liar, she thought as you waved at her, that the leprechaun turned out to be.
You sat back as the bus rolled out of the station, setting your head on Sweeney’s shoulder with a sigh. He turned his hand over for you, and you held it loosely between both of yours as you drifted off to sleep.
Sweeney woke you up at the bus station in Jackson, Mississippi, stretching his arms over his head with a groan and a yawn. You stretched as best as you could and shuffled off the bus after him, mumbling about needing something to eat and drink so you could take your meds before the next bus. He didn’t say anything in return, only tugged you along with him through the station. You stopped at the bus schedule and map next to the closed service desk, squinting as you struggled to wake up. Sweeney kept walking, heading for the bathrooms across the station, then returning a few minutes later.
You reached out to grab the back of his jacket as he walked behind you. “Hey, serious question,” you said when he stopped, “Everything else is real – are things like werewolves real?”
“You jokin’?” he mumbled, standing behind you, “Why’re you askin’? After all this time?”
You tapped the map, finger covering Jackson multiple times. “This book I read a long time ago – a series really – had werewolves in Jackson. And vampires in Shreveport. I never gave it any thought, obviously, but now—”
He snorted. “I only know a one werewolf, and that’s ‘cause the idiot was cursed by a fuckin’ god.”
“Oh, hey, I know that one,” you said. Sweeney draped an arm around your shoulders as he stared at the map. “I did a paper on him in school. Really weird story.” You slid your fingers between his. “You think that means there’s other werewolves out there?”
“No idea,” he mumbled, “Don’t care too much.” You looked up at him, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “Gotta few hours before our next bus,” he sighed, rubbing his neck.
“You need coffee?” you murmured.
He snorted, “Or somethin’.” He looked around. “Think there’s a place nearby. Some fuckin’ coffee shop or some shit.”
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” you asked. You followed him to the door, trying to give him a smile through another yawn.
“Dunno how yer so awake,” he grumbled.
You shrugged. “Dunno,” you repeated back at him, “I’ve never been one for a lot of sleep at one time. I think it’s all the depression naps – they really fuck up my sleep schedule. I’m used to it.”
Sweeney eyed you as he held the door open. “That ain’t healthy, luv,” he commented.
You snorted and waited for him to catch up to you, holding your hand out for him to take. He did, and carefully draped his arm around your shoulders, letting your arm dangle across your chest. “What’re you now, a health professional?” you grumbled.
“Know enough to know that ya gotta sleep well ta be well,” he replied, “Been around long enough to figure that one out.”
You hummed and leaned into his side as you walked. As he led the way, you asked if he’d been to Jackson before, which he told you he had. He didn’t give you details. You wondered absently if it had been a job for Mr. Wednesday, then asked it aloud. He only grunted. You wondered what the job was for, but knew he wouldn’t tell you. You knew your leprechaun well enough to know that he hated talking about his work for Wednesday.
Maybe, if you found out who he really was, you’d be able to free him from the deal he’d struck with the one-eyed bastard.
Sweeney slowed as he looked down a road, pausing for a passing car before dragging you over to the coffee shop he’d had in mind. You looked up at the sign as you approached. Full Body Brew was not what you were thinking. The name immediately called an image of a surly bar, or a strip club, or both. It definitely didn’t bring to mind a small café on the corner, with a full moon for a sign and blinking ‘open’ in the window. A bell rung as he pushed open the door for you.
“Holy fucking shit,” someone loudly swore from the front counter. Sweeney let out a tiny, annoyed groan. You looked back at him, arching an eyebrow as you shuffled into the café. He smoothed both hands over his head and down his face, as though he was trying to hide something. “Look what the cat dragged in,” came the same voice. You turned to it, as did a few other patrons sitting around the cozy, autumnal themed coffee shop.
The man that had spoken was a tall man with broad shoulders, though not at tall nor as broad as Sweeney. He had a grizzled look about him that didn’t fit with the youthful fullness of his cheeks that sat on either side of his Romanesque nose. He slapped a rag down on the sink in the back counter and patted the shoulder of a woman before he rounded the bar.
“Lou,” grunted Sweeney when he finally dropped his hands.
Lou slugged Sweeney’s arm. “Been a while,” he mused as your leprechaun rubbed the assaulted spot, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you owe me.”
“Ain’t here to square up, just here for coffee,” Sweeney grumbled in reply.
Lou’s eyes swiveled to you. They were impressive – daunting, even – and the longer you stared the more you realized just how round the irises were, how golden the brown of his eyes was, how they took up almost too much of his sclera than a normal iris would.
(“He was a wolf, but kept some vestige of his former shape. There were the same grey hairs, the same violent face, the same glittering eyes, the same savage image.”)
You almost took a step back.
“Now who’s this here?” Lou asked, “Never seen you with a travelin’ partner before.” If you listened close enough, you could almost catch an accent. It was different than you’d ever heard before, like his mouth was struggling to form the sounds of letters but not the English words themselves.
Sweeney didn’t give him your name. Instead, he pushed past the once defiant king and headed to the bar of the coffee shop.
Lou crossed his arms and leaned towards you. “He been like this a lot?”
You gave him a slight shrug. “Only when he doesn’t sleep well,” you answered.
“We ain’t payin’ for this!” Sweeney all but shouted at the man.
With a roll of his eyes, Lou headed back towards the bar. You took a seat on a long booth bench, setting your bag on top of the four top table, and waited. Sweeney eventually returned to you, holding a cup in each hand and a donut in his mouth, which he offered to you after biting a large chunk out of it. You pull bites from it with a disgusted grimace and downed your drink faster than you should have. He, in turn, took his time with his drink, lounging back in his creaking seat across from you, sprawling out in your space and you eventually into his.
You rolled a piece of fluffy cooked dough between your fingers, watching the tiny pockets of air squish into one space. “What made you decide?” you whispered. Sweeney hummed, lowering his cup from his mouth as he watched you. “You said it was remembering all the other parts that made you decide, but what,” you popped the ball into your mouth, chewed, gave yourself time to think of how you would phrase the question, swallowed, “What was it out of them that made you decide that you wanted to know everything?”
Sweeney should’ve known that you’d ask such a question. You were good with them, the prodding types, the ones that really dug in and forced out answers that people were never expecting to give. You’d done it ever since you’d met him, after all. Why would it have changed? He swallowed the mouthful of dreadfully delicious coffee and looked away from you, watching another couple across the small dining area as they shared a pastry between them, too. Their fingers brushed one another’s as they ate and talked and laughed.
You nudged his leg with your knee and whispered in a voice only ever meant for him, “Sweeney?”
He returned to you, as he always did.
He set his coffee down and leaned into the table, pulling your somewhat sticky hands into his. You, in turn, leaned towards him. He didn’t look at you. He wasn’t even sure if he could speak. Words tumbled up from his gut like claws and wedged into his throat and he almost thought he’d be sick. You gave his hands a squeeze, a small one that enveloped his fingers.
He pried one hand free and waved it as he spoke. It helped the claws fall back down. “When ya first told me everythin’, it was all jumbled up, like someone did one a those stupid puzzles that don’t make sense,” he murmured. He dropped his hand back to the table, next to your wrist, and tapped a nervous beat on the wood surface. “But then things got clearer. Everythin’ got clearer, not just the shite I was rememberin’, but all the shite that’s happened, all the things we—” The words swelled in his throat and clamped his mouth shut. He cleared it, leaned back, and picked up the coffee again. After another few deep gulps, he sighed and dropped the empty cup next to yours.
“Do you only wanna remember because it makes everything else easier?” you gently asked.
He covered your hands with his free one, then finally met your gaze.
Words tumbled out of this throat and onto his tongue with little grace and the weight of dull white star. “Maybe it means I can be better for ya,” he rasped, “Rememberin’ it all. So I don’t fuck it up again.”
The ambiance of the coffee bar was deafening. For you? He wanted to remember for you? What in the world did that mean? You knew what it meant, actually, but did it really mean what you thought it would or did it mean something else to him? He wanted to be better for you? How? What? Thoughts swirled in your head a mile a minute and made you wonder why you had yet to set a fucking alarm for your meds to remind you to take them every day so you wouldn’t be questioning if you had or hadn’t.
His eyes dropped away from yours and the jumble of thoughts almost straightened out. Words that had been said to you over and over again filled the spaces instead, and you squeezed his hand a second time.
“Sweeney,” you sighed. He almost pulled away. You held firm. “You shouldn’t want to remember for me,” you continued, “You should want to remember for yourself.”
“Now why would I wanna do somethin’ like that?” he asked, “Haven’t wanted to do fuck all for myself for centuries. Can’t see a reason to start now.” You opened your mouth to protest. “But, for you? I can do that easy enough. Been doin’ anythin’ for you from day one.”
The longer you thought about it, the more you saw his reasoning was far too similar to the times you told yourself that no one else would feed Bast but you, so you couldn’t really go anywhere.
You closed your mouth and let the heat flood your face. You traced the length of this fingers. “I think I can accept that,” you whispered.
He smiled, slow and beautiful and just for you, and the world was quiet for a moment.
A whistle cut through it, jolting your attention away from your leprechaun, and you looked up at the man that stood next to your table. Lou arched an eyebrow. “How about that debt, hm?” he asked.
Sweeney groaned and rolled his eyes, rising from the table. “Be right back, luv,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss against the crown of your head, “Then we’ll head off.”
You watched him leave, watched him head towards the back room with Lou, the both of them quiet beneath the din of the coffee shop. You thought about everything that had happened over the last few days, wondering if you could pinpoint when it was that he decided that he wanted to know everything, and that he wanted to know it for you. You wondered if you should tell him that it wasn’t the best thing he should do, that he shouldn’t hinge his ability to finally learn who he was on how he could be better for someone else, but knew that it wasn’t much different than what you did every day before you met him. You wondered if he would continue to heal after he’d learned everything, if he would finally accept all of the other things that he refused to see in himself and work to be better for you in those aspects, too.
Of course, it was only fair if you did the same, right? You fumbled around in your bag for your phone and pulled it out, scrolling around for the clock app to set an everyday timer for your meds. Finally, you thought, you’d be able to make sure you took them every day, and you’d know for sure that you did. It was a small step, but it was a step in the right direction, just like the kind that Sweeney was taking in accepting that he wanted to know who he was.
“C’mon,” grunted Sweeney as he wandered back. You blinked, looking up at him when he grabbed your back. You hadn’t realized how long you had been thinking, but his conversation with Lou was over, and it was time to go. You stood and shoved your phone back in your bag, thanking him for waiting for you to do so before he slung the thing onto his back. “We gotta go.”
“That was quick,” you pointed out as you followed him from the shop. You glanced back to see Lou wiping down the counter again, just like he had been when you’d walked in. It was almost as though you were never there. The door swung shut on the scene.
“Clearin’ the air,” Sweeney said, “Makin’ sure he knew I didn’t owe him shit.”
“Is that it?” you asked suspiciously.
He glanced back at the shop and pulled his hand from his pocket, twirling a set of keys around his finger. “And we’re borrowin’ his car,” he added with a smirk.
You took the keys. “Does he know we’re borrowing it?” you asked. You pressed the lock button and spun towards the chirping car.
“Not at all,” he said, “Part of borrowin’, ain’t it?”
“Certainly part of your borrowing,” you replied. You opened the door and dropped into the front seat, swinging your bag around into the back with a sigh and a crack of your back. Sweeney glanced over as he climbed in. You smiled. “So?” you asked, “Give me directions. I have no idea where we’re going.”
It didn’t take you long to get to your next destination – Baton Rouge, a few hours at most, given the stop for gas and the train the two of you got stuck behind. Sweeney suggested leaving the car at the train station so Lou would have an easier time of finding it, which surprised you until he locked the car and threw the keys into the tall grass by the building. He took your hand and pulled you down the sidewalk.
“What is with you and Lou anyway?” you asked as you walked. You eyed the sky. Thunder cracked somewhere, but the dark clouds above you hadn’t broken open just yet.
“Years of bullshit is all,” he answered with a shrug.
You narrowed your eyes. “That’s it?” you asked, “Is this just a weird prank war?” Sweeney shrugged but said nothing else. “Alright, keep your secrets,” you mumbled. He tugged you into his side. “Why’d we come to Baton Rogue anyway? New Orleans is still a good drive away.”
He tilted his head as he puffed on a cigarette. “Wanted to buy time,” he mumbled around it. You felt him shiver, his arm trembling around your shoulders with the quick shudder. “The Loa freak me out more than anythin’ else we run into,” he added.
“You sure it isn’t because you don’t wanna see any more family?” you teased.
“Shuddup,” he huffed. The thunder cracked above you again, and a few drops of water fell onto your head. You swore, looking around. Sweeney tugged you ahead. “’s different than the fucking Weird Sisters, okay?” He pulled you into an alley just as the clouds broke above.
The first dribbles of rain quickly turned into a downpour. It was warm, warmer that it would have been if you were anywhere else. Sweeney ducked closer to you and to the overhang of the roof above you with a loud, caustic swear. You laughed. He didn’t.
“I hate fuckin’ Louisiana,” Sweeney muttered. He shoved his soaked locks from his face.
You smiled. “I love it.” You looked around, following the alley. “I’ve only ever been to Shreveport, but it’s so beautiful here.”
He snorted. “You’ll love New Orleans, then.” His hand pressed into the small of your back, balled up your shirt, and pulled you back towards him. A car lumbered down the alley cross-section.
You looked up. Sweeney stared at you, let his eyes follow the curve of your nose down your face to your lips. His fingers brushed your jaw. You licked your bottom lip, mirroring him while trying to control your breathing. The rain was hot. His skin was hotter.
Fuck it, he thought.
He grasped your chin when his fingers reached it and tilted your face up as he leaned down and closed the gap between you, swallowing your anxious gasp. His mouth felt just like you thought it would – a little chapped, a little rough, but warm and desperate. His hand fell away from your chin to your throat, slipped around to the back of your head as he held you in place. You twisted your fingers into his jacket and pressed closer, as close as you could, until you felt his heart pounding in your chest. He coaxed your mouth open with his own and let his tongue wander between your lips. God, you wondered what other magic that tongue could do.
He pulled away enough to tilt his head the other way, to push your bag off your shoulder and really pin you against the wall. You took the chance to say his name, a soft moan, a whispered prayer that had him growling against your mouth.
It was delicious.
His hands dropped to your ass, gave it a squeeze, and picked you up. You squeezed your thighs against his hips and felt him settle against you, his cock growing hard as you rocked into him. You gripped his hair with both hands, smoothed your thumbs over his scalp, pulled him closer. You thought he would devour you whole with how he kissed you, stealing your breath until your head spun. He tasted like cloves and tobacco and whiskey and the deep veins of gold that were hidden in the tiniest bit of luck.
Thunder clapped overhead. You both jumped, foreheads knocking into each other. You snorted, and grinned, and took the opportunity to suck in air while Sweeney was hovering and breathing just as hard.
“’s not something for an alleyway,” you slurred, more than a little drunk on him.
“The fuck it’s not,” he rasped.
“I would rather it not be in an alleyway,” you corrected while trying not to laugh. His nose brushed past yours, his mouth hovering over your lips. “Not the kinda moment I want strangers interrupting,” you whispered.
He grunted out an answer as his mouth slanted against yours again. You didn’t stop him. You kept trying to talk – mumbling about how you couldn’t stay in the alley forever, or how you had to get to New Orleans if he wanted his coin and his memories back.
“They ain’t goin’ anywhere,” he finally huffed, leaning forehead against yours.
“Neither ‘m I,” you breathed. You trailed your fingers through his hair and down his neck. You wanted to stay there with him, to savor the moment but the brick of the building bit into your back, and the petrichor was making you sniffly, and you were uncomfortable but not emotionally, never emotionally with him.
He leaned into you more as though he was trying to melt into you. “Mean it?” he whispered.
“That I’m not going anywhere?” you asked. He nodded. “I already said you’re stuck with me, Sweeney.”
For once, his brain was ahead of his mouth, running a mile a minute to edit the words that spilled from his lips, “Can’t be stuck with someone ya want.” Except he knew it wasn’t ‘want’ that he wanted to say. It was something else entirely.
A bright flash of lightning and loud clap of thunder had you jumping all over again. You patted his arms and insisted he put you down. When he did, you asked if he knew of a place to get out of the rain. He didn’t, not off the top of his head, but it wasn’t something that his unruly charm couldn’t figure out.
He took your hand and dragged you out of the alley and into the first little store he saw. It was a local shop, one that was obviously for tourists and not meant for real practitioners unless you knew what to ask for. Besides the shopkeeper, there was only a family inside – a mother and father, and two girls who appeared to be in their late teens. They looked up when you both ducked inside, you tucked against Sweeney’s side, and their eyes lingered on your leprechaun like they had never seen a man before. The shopkeeper, though, gave him an ugly glare, and kept an eye on him as he finished answering a question from the mother.
“What is with you and grudges?” you whispered.
Sweeney held you close as he moved to another side of the shop, his mouth dipping low against your ear as he replied, “’m old, luv. It happens.”
“Not nearly as much it happens with you,” you countered, looking up at him. His other arm looped around your back, pulling you flush against him as you both lingered. “It’s kinda funny.”
“You say that now but just wait until we’re stuck in the rain without a bed or a bucket to piss in,” he replied, his eyebrow quirking up.
You inhaled slowly and sighed, “That’s disgusting.”
“I’m sorry,” came a voice you didn’t know. You looked up. One of the teen girls was peeking around the corner of the aisle, her sister close to her back. Her brown eyes were wide and a flush highlighted her nose when she noticed she was seen. “Sorry,” she repeated, stepping out from her hiding spot, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard—”
“We,” corrected her sister, who stepped out behind her, “We overheard that you guys don’t have a place to stay.” She shrugged and crossed her arms. “That right?”
Sweeney’s eyes narrowed for a moment. You saw him consider how he could work the situation in his favor and pinched the first patch of skin you could reach. He winced, looking down at you with a huff.
“They’re teenagers,” you whispered.
“Teenagers have parents,” he hissed, then paused, “Sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes and turned to them with a smile. “You know, it’s not safe to talk to strangers,” you said.
“We’re not stupid,” the first one snapped, crossing her arms.
The second twin swatted her arm with a sigh. “It’s raining, and the place our parents are renting is pretty big, and they’re the “charity is a virtue and pays back tenfold” kinda people, so we’re sure you could stay for a bit,” she said.
Sweeney narrowed his eyes, squeezing you closer to him. “So, why—”
The first of the twins held up her hand, cutting him off from what he was about to say. She looked back at her sister. They both stepped closer to you. “We’re really hoping this makes sense, okay?” she said, then took a deep breath, “Isn’t that what wrath does?”
You stood straighter, a smile slowly spreading across your face. “Holy shit,” you whispered. You patted Sweeney’s arm and stepped out of his grasp, taking a hand from each of the twins. “You worship the Morrigan,” you breathed.
“So, it makes sense?” asked the second twin.
You nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, it—” You nodded, smiled, and introduced yourself, then Sweeney.
The twins shared a small smile. “I’m Alianna,” said the first twin.
“I’m Orianna,” added the second. They exchanged a look. “We have a third sister, but she’s back at the house. Didn’t wanna come out because she wasn’t feeling well. That’s Lisanna,” said Orianna.
Sweeney groaned, and whispered, “Fuckin’ triplets.”
“So, wait,” Alianna stuttered, “We really did hear from the Morrigan?”
Your smile grew. “I have a phone number to give, of a friend. He went through the same thing not too long ago,” you said.
Orianna patted her sister’s arm. “Lemme go ask mom and dad, okay? I’ll be right back!” She took off, almost tripping around a display as she went. Alianna sighed and followed her, waving a hand at you as she went.
Sweeney dropped his head towards yours. “This smart?” he mumbled.
“You were literally just thinking about taking advantage of them,” you replied.
He stepped around you, putting the display between him and the shopkeeper, and danced his fingers over the shelf. “That was before I knew they were the fuckin’ Morrigan’s little lackeys,” he grumbled. You watched him tug a small purple stone keychain off the shelf and palm it. He turned to you. You crossed your arms, arching an eyebrow. He held out his empty hands. “What?”
Someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned, and you leaned around him. Alianna bounced next to the older couple you had seen walking in. Their dad crossed his arms and stood as straight as he could, trying to look intimidating in the small space of the shop. Their mom smiled and placed a hand on his bicep. A cross sat at her throat, glittering in the sun.
“Ali and Ori said that you needed a place to stay,” murmured their mom, “Our Airbnb™ is pretty large, and we do have an extra room.”
“You’re not gonna rob us, are you?” asked their dad, eyeing Sweeney up and down.
“Sweetheart,” their mom sighed.
“It’s a good question!”
“They need help. We can help them.” Their mom smiled again, and gave her husband a squeeze. Their dad sighed, stepping away, then turned back to whisper something. His wife’s smile grew. “C’mon. We have to walk, because we didn’t drive down here, but it’s a nice walk.”
You nodded, patting Sweeney’s arm in a similar fashion of the wife, and tugged him towards the door.
“Just what the hell are you doing?” hissed the shopkeeper as you and Sweeney passed.
You slowed, turning to watch Sweeney twist around on his heel and wave at the shopkeeper. “Findin’ someone else to bother since ya look like I killed yer fuckin’ dog,” he replied.
“You cheated!”
“Can’t cheat since I can’t lie, ya know,” he shot back. He turned back to you, holding the door above your head. “Maybe I’ll come back for another round of poker later, hm?”
“Fuck you and fuck off, Sweeney,” cursed the woman.
Arianna lingered at the door as you stepped outside, leaning in to whisper, “What was that all about?”
“He’s not great at making friends,” you replied. You shrugged and fell in step next to her, feeling Sweeney walking behind you. “He actually broke into my apartment the first time we met,” you mused.
She stared at you, eyes wide, and quietly asked, “And now you’re dating him?”
“Uh,” you tilted your head, then looked back at Sweeney, “Date isn’t really the right term for it.”
“Ain’t a term for what we have, luv,” he shot back with a wink.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
Orianna pushed her way between you and Sweeney, looping her arm through yours. “Okay, so, you’ve been all over the place, right?” she asked, “Where?”
Alianna took your other arm. “Please, tell us everything.” She looked at her sister. “And then tell us again when we get to Lisanna, because we’ve never been outside of Louisiana before.”
“New Orleans is literally the most exciting place we’ve been,” said Orianna.
You snorted. The walk back to their Airbnb™ was filled with the details of your adventure, from the moment you met Sweeney, to when you met Wednesday, and to all of the other gods that you’ve met. You spun tales of near-death experiences and dead wives and cats that weren’t really cats, of faceless men and shapeshifting women and ravens that coped attitudes. Cross country cab rides. Airplanes with medical goddesses. Normal women that became witches. Transporting to a rooftop under the light of the moon. The more you spoke, the lighter you felt, as though finally putting everything you had done and accomplished into one wild story drove home the importance of your work and your connections. Of your existence.
“Hey!” called their dad, drawing you out of your cloud of memories. You looked up to see you had arrived, their sprawling temporary home looming high over you. “Sweeney, right? Give a guy a hand and get the door? These shopping bags are kinda heavy.”
Sweeney touched your back as he ducked around you, jogging ahead to the door. As he opened it a third girl rushed out, jumping down the front steps, and made a beeline for you and her sisters. She tugged on their arms and pulled you aside, around the side of the house. “Hey, so, yes, they texted me at the store, and you have to tell us everything!”
“Again?” you teased.
“A—” she glared at the girls on either side of you. “Yes. Again.”
The four of you sat outside, you telling your story again, them asking questions and sharing what little they had learned from the Morrigan. The air grew cold the longer you sat, and the sun slowly lowered to the horizon.
Sweeney wandered outside, his hands cupped around his mouth as he lit a cigarette. Your voice was a gently thrum in the air, relaxing his shoulders in a way that the smell of nature and the sound of the river couldn’t. He couldn’t see you well in the fading light, but he could find you even if he was blind. It was a pull you had, and it made his eyes trail down the bare trees along the river bank until they landed on you. He paused, smoke curling up his face as he slowly exhaled, the breath stolen from his lungs as you smiled. He’d never get tired of watching you. He kept his distance as you continued to talk to the sisters. He watched your mouth move, watched it fall open as you laughed at some comment the three sisters around you had shared. His heart raced and his palms grew damp at his sides.
He stayed out until the couple called everyone in for dinner. Their father’s voice startled him, made him jump and swear and stare at the all too human man who glanced over at him with a wicked grin. Sweeney grunted, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket. He took two long, angry puffs on his cigarette as he watched you stand and trail after the sisters. When it was spent, he flicked it out into the grass.
You wrinkled your nose at the action, stopping almost toe to toe with him. “Hey,” you whispered. Sweeney hummed and hunched his shoulders. “What’re we gonna do after this?” you asked.
He frowned. “After what?” he asked, then sniffed, “The Loa?”
“Yeah.”
He scratched his chin, his shoulders falling away from his ears as he finally looked away from your face for the first time. “Find the Dead Wife. Get my fuckin’ coin back…” He trailed off. His eyes found yours again. “Disappear,” he rasped, voice catching in his throat.
Your heart lurched. Thousands and thousands of thoughts raced through your head too fast for you to catch but just slow enough that they made your stomach drop further and further. You hesitantly asked, “What about Wednesday?”
His fingers stilled in his beard. They lifted away, almost too slowly, and gently – nervously – traced your jaw instead. He stepped closer, tilting your chin up as he cupped your face in both of his still damp palms. “Fuck ‘im,” he murmured, “Won’t find us.”
The thoughts stilled. Your stomach clenched, the nerves fluttering around inside almost making you sick as the dread turned to excitement far too quickly. “You promise?” Your voice – your fear and worry – were swallowed by him as he kissed you for the second time. You gave his wrists a gently squeeze and prayed the two of you could vanish when the time came. The prayer sank deep into Sweeney’s chest, igniting smoldering ash into a small flame.
A throat clearing pulled the two of you apart. The woman smiled when your eyes fell on her, and she waved through the open door. “Supper’s ready,” she said, “If y’all are hungry.” She hurried back inside.
You turned your attention back to Sweeney, who tilted his head. His palms squished into the fat of your cheeks. You made an unhappy sound, and he grinned. “’m starvin’,” he mumbled.
You wiggled your fingers into his palms, freeing your face from his torment, and tugged him inside. He kicked the door shut behind him.
~*~Thanks for Reading~*~
~*~Tag List~*~
@hannon-say @divadinag @fear-less-write-more (i cant tag you) @superflannel @selenaofthemoon (i cant tag you) @jinxy-toast @teller258316 @guiltgoldglory @the-bluest-hour @irishgodfucker (i cant tag you) @karmabites2313 @hiddlebatchedloki (i cant tag you) @siedrkona1991 @hstott @lakeli @nemophilistvampyr @massivecolorspygiant @leximus98 @weirdo125 (i cant tag you) @fleeingdawn-blog1 @madamecoyote @postgradandstupid @hopplessdreamer @omnisexualvampire @hannon-say @ceyruh @animatenebrae @ultrablackwidower @callmemaeverick @loisbaggings @fictional-hooman (i cant tag you) @babypink224221 @quietwitchsworld
#american gods#Pablo Schreiber#mad sweeney x reader#mad sweeney#mad sweeney/reader#the invasion#the invasion series
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OH MY GOD OKAY SO I WORK WITH A KID WHO HAS ASD AND IS O B S E S S E D WITH TROLLS
All day every day all he wants to do is tell me about trolls and draw brozone and I got really into trolls by osmosis ESPECIALLY since I went to see trolls three just for him so anyway PLEASE tell me about trolls because I have never wanted to hug branch harder than I did in trolls three. He built the hideout
I feel like you maybe got cut off a bit, but that's okay, cause I think I know what you were gonna say, and yeah, breaks my heart too.
Gonna put this under a read more, cause it's gonna be a lot.
First things first, one of my absolute favorite things about this series is how the world looks. And I don't just mean in terms of it being a fantasy world, I mean how things literally look like felt and stuff. Someone described it as looking like an 'arts & craft' project and I agree. Heck, I am in love with the orbeez water from this last movie. What a fun touch.
On a similar note, love the character designs. Very wild and versatile, willing to do fun and funky things and break the mold. Especially with the trolls! While World Tour gave us different races of trolls, with different looks and anesthetics, Bqnd Together showed us that even trolls of the same race can look really versatile, and I love that. My favorite species design, though, has to be the vacationers. I love the holiday muppets.
Also, in terms of versatile designs. I have to mention how refreshing it is that I was able to predict that Bruce was gonna be fat as an adult, after all of the emphasis placed on his abs originally, but that his gaining weight is never brought up, not even as an insult. None of his brothers ever give him crud about it, and Poppy even still sees him as the heartthrob, even with his chunky dad bod. That's some positivity right there.
Poppy and Branch!! I can not say enough about how much I love their relationship!! They are genuinely really cute and also really healthy. I was so happy that they didn't pull the same crud so many other studios do and shoe horn in some random and unnecessary relationship drama in this film, especially after Branch's subplot in the last movie was about their relationship. They're solid in this film. The only time they have conflict is about Branch not being super open (and even then it's not a huge issue and Poppy is clearly understanding that he's not fully ready yet and is even willing to make a joke about it when he is) and Poppy's lack of understanding of the complexities of sibling relationships. Other than those two minor conflicts, they are solid. She can tell right away at the beginning that something is wrong and bothering him, he is able to manage and bring her back when she starts getting too excited and worked up, and over all they just work to better each other. Heck, even uber positive, everyone needs to be friends with everyone, Poppy stands by his side when he chooses to abandon John, Bruce, and Clay, not trying to convince him to go back and forgive and give them a second chance. She's gonna stand by him. We love a solid relationship. And I personally love that they didn't get married or even actually propose in this one, despite the teases. It's really good for kids to see representation of a healthy relationship where they don't jump into marriage and instead take their time.
Poppy's relationship with both Viva and Bridgette. The fact that even after discovering she has a literal sister in Viva, she stills considers and calls Bridgette a sister. We love girl friendship. Especially when Bridgette finds out Viva is Poppy's sister, deciding that automatically makes them besties too. We love it.
I love that, other than the very mild road block of trying to keep them at Putt Putt, Viva isn't a villain. She's deeply traumatized, but not evil. She and Poppy really do genuinely get along and love each other, and I love that so much.
And while I mention a good Sibling relationship, I must also mention the more complicated by expressing my appreciation that, despite them being shown being closwer, Branch doesn't automatically jump to help when he finds out Floyd is in trouble. While he admits to Poppy, after some pushing, that of all the brothers, Floyd would be the one he would help, this is still hesitant, and I think appropriate. Floyd still left him and never came back. The only one who ever mentions coming back is John Dory (having come back too late, after the trolls had escaped the tree). So it makes sense that, despite them being closer, Branch would still hold that resentment towards Floyd and be hesitant to help even him.
Also, I have to mention something: the way that John and Branch are weird parallels. They're the most similar, in being isolated survivalist. John is the oldest who's treatment drove everyone away. Branch is the youngest who thought his performance drove everyone away. It's so sad and poetic, I love it.
Last thing I will note for now is how much I love the trolls series for its female villains. Barb wasn't really a villain in the end and had a redeemable reason for doing what she did, but Chef and Velvet both were unapologetically selfish and awful for completely their own gain. I love that for them.
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Santa Bring My Baby Back
Fandom: Actor, American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader
Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Lisa Marie Presley, Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West, Joe Esposito, Memphis Mafia, Lamar Fike
Word Count: 3208 // Rating: Mature
Summary: There’s a new Santa in town but not everyone’s happy with the new change
Tags/ Warnings: Body Issues, Weight Gain, Body Image Issues, Self Loathing, Big Daddy Elvis, Memphis Mafia, Christmas, Christmas at Graceland, Reader is Lisa’s Mother, Kisses, Hugging, Implied Sex, Santa, Dressing Up As Santa, Holiday Party, Fluff, Angst, Snowball Fights, Memphis Mafia [of absolute children], Established Relationship, Marriage,
Notes: i am currently in love with big daddy Elvis BUT I got carried away with him being a lil self conscious. This is very a la Dave from Full Monty.
Updated 8/23
‘No, no, it’s okay….’ I said.
‘I don’t know what he was thinking! Nearly 40 and still carrying on like he’s 10!’ Nora sighed.
‘They’re all as bad as one another,’ I chuckled as I remembered watching the snowball fight my husband had been having early this morning with his friends. All party members were married and some even had kids but no. Out in our vast backyard, you’d never know there were actual kids around as the men divided up into teams hell-bent on getting each other as wet and frozen as possible. And it had all been fun and games until Lamar had run off the grass and onto the icy stone patio and gone over on his ankle. The boys had laughed but seeing that he was actually hurt Elvis had insisted that he get checked out at the hospital. Which is why Nora was ringing.
‘Well the doc’s gonna patch him up but he’s not gonna be able to walk on it for a bit at least not without crutches,’ Nora said, ‘so he’s not gonna be able to do it.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said.
‘He feels awful about letting ya down,’ she said.
‘Well he always does an amazing job but he’s no good to us hobbling about,’ I chuckled, ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, we’ll sort something out. Just come for the party.’
‘You sure?’ she said.
‘You didn’t think you’d be banished did you?’ I said rolling my eyes, ‘I’m sure if we station him on the couch with a beer in hand he’ll be fine.’
‘Yeah, I bet,’ she giggled, ‘I’ll let him know and we’ll be over at six.’
‘See you then, bye,’ I said getting a goodbye in return. With a sigh, I placed the receiver back in its place.
‘What’s up?’ Jerry said as I did. We were standing in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to the food for tonight. It was for our annual Christmas Party a feat I loved putting together. It was a night of food, booze, family and friends. The kids were even included in the earlier part. Santa would visit and give them all a present each before they’d get to camp out in the basement watching Christmas movies. That was when the adult party started.
It was a bit merrier. A bit lewder. But it still shared that special something. It was something I was immensely proud of. Except this year had a snag. Our Santa, Lamar for the other 364 days of the year, was no longer in play.
‘Lamar’s sprained his ankle,’ I said continuing to pipe on the cookies I had been sorting out before the phone had rung.
‘Shit,’ Jerry said, ‘he did take quite the tumble.’
‘Yeah well he sure paid the price for it,’ I said, ‘I mean I don’t know what’s worse the injury or having to tell the doctor he did it in a snowball fight.’
‘Yeah let’s hope he thought of a cover,’ Jerry chuckled as he wrapped a plate of chicken wings with cling film.
‘Well we’re gonna have to think of one too,’ I said, Jerry’s brows knitted together with confusion, ‘we don’t have a Santa now.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Jerry said.
As he did Elvis entered with Red, Sonny and Joe trailing behind him. He came to the counter I was standing at and placed his hand on my hip, pressing a kiss to my temple.
‘Everything ready?’ I asked looking up at him.
‘Yes honey,’ he said with a smirk before he went to grab a coke out of the fridge. The boys stationed themselves around the kitchen looking at the various plates of food already ready to be laid out in the dining room.
‘Good,’ I smiled, ‘because we’ve got a problem.’
‘Oh?’ Elvis said coming back to me. As he pinched a cookie off the plate I smacked his hand and took it off him, placing it back on the tray.
‘Behave,’ I said warningly earning a smirk from him.
‘God damn dictatorship,’ he mumbled making me roll my eyes.
‘What’s the problem?’ Red asked ignoring us.
‘Lamar’s sprained his ankle,’ Jerry said.
‘I knew he took that fall hard,’ Elvis said, ‘he alright?’
‘Nora said he’s fine but it means we haven’t got a Santa for tonight,’ I said.
‘Shit yeah,’ Red said, ‘well I’m sure we can find someone to replace him.’
‘Yeah baby, don’t worry we’ll sort it,’ Elvis said looking at me with a small smile. I turned to look up at him with a hesitant expression.
‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ I said with a smile.
‘What me?’ he baulked.
‘Well..’
‘Why would I wanna dress up as Santa?’ he scoffed.
‘Come on EP,’ Red chuckled, ‘we always have a Santa.’
‘Yeah and it’s always Lamar,’ he said icily.
‘Please baby,’ I said wrapping my arms around his middle. He held me but his face was still contorted in a scowl which was directed towards the boys. I moved one of my hands to his front and tiptoed my fingers up his chest until I was touching his chin, forcing him to look at me, ‘please?’
‘Why me? Why can’t one of these clowns do it,’ he sighed.
‘Because it’s gotta be perfect,’ I reasoned.
‘Yeah Santa’s rosy-cheeked right?’ Joe said, ‘we send Red in there they’re gonna be thinkin’ Santa’s never seen the sun.’
‘And we can’t have a Santa that’s shorter than the kids so Joe’s out,’ Red quipped earning a chuckle from Elvis and Jerry. As the pair tussled a little I looked back at Elvis capturing his attention.
‘See? They’re not my big strong Santa,’ I smirked, ‘the one who’d do anything for me right?’
‘Just the once right?’ he said skeptically. I nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded, ‘fine.’
I clapped my hands together and pulled him in for a kiss. Looks like tonight wasn’t going to be a bust after all.
✵✵✵
The night was going smoothly. Despite the blizzarding snow outside the fire crackled accompanying the holiday records that played through the air. Conversations were working alongside each other, punctuated by the giggles and laughter of the kids who were playing in and out of the living and dining room. Our guests were enjoying themselves and I rested against the archway of our living room so was I. I sipped my glass of champagne and smiled watching it all happen. Then I noticed a figure at the top of the stairs. I looked up to find Red moving at a pace down them, giving me a look as he reached the bottom.
‘Hey,’ I said grabbing a hold of Lisa and Sandy as they ran by me, ‘come on everyone in the living room.’
‘Why Mama?’ Lisa said looking up at me with those big blue eyes.
‘Because I think I hear something,’ I said scooping her up and going to sit on the couch. She sat on my knee, her hand on my cheek as she looked around the room. All of the other kids were in the living room now, some clung to parents who had told them to behave and others congregated in the middle questioning why they had been told to stop playing.
‘What is it?’ Cindy, Joe’s daughter said.
‘I hear it too,’ Sonny said.
‘Me too,’ Jerry chuckled as the faint sound of bells echoed outside the room. The room erupted into furious whispers as all the kids exuded excitement. A couple of them scouted out the stairs and spotted ‘Santa’ coming down them.
‘Is it really Santa Mama?’ Lisa whispered as she peered out into the hallway.
‘It really is baby,’ I said as Elvis appeared at the living room entryway.
‘Hello boys and girls,’ he boomed in a voice unlike his own. Despite his reluctance, he was done up to the nines. His suit was immaculate and the only telltale sign it was him was those shining blue eyes I adored so much. A chorus of ‘hello Santas’ rang back at him. He moved to sit in the chair we had stationed by the tree as some of the bolder kids congregated around him. Lisa stayed on my knee, however, still a little wary.
‘Now, I’ve been told there are lots of good girls and boys here is that right?’ Elvis said receiving excited shouts from the kids, ‘well that’s very good because I happen to have lots of presents here for those boys and girls!’
Elvis leaned into his sack and pulled out a neatly wrapped parcel.
‘Debbie?’ he asked looking for Joe’s little girl. She pushed through the crowd with a beaming smile and walked right into him as he handed her her gift, ‘here you go sweetheart.’
‘Thank you Santa,’ she said taking it from his hands and running to her Dad so she could open it, allowing Elvis to dive back inside his sack for the next kid. This had become one of my favourite parts of the party. Though admittedly it had started as a way to get the kids to migrate downstairs I had now come to love it. I picked out presents for each kid, ensuring it was something they really wanted. Santa’s sack would also appear later in the night though those presents were less about the perfect gift and more about what would get a laugh.
He moved through each present presenting it to every child who ripped them open with enthusiasm. Lisa watched from my knee as every kid got a gift. As he got to the end of the sack she looked up at me worry dancing across her young features.
‘That seems to be it,’ Elvis said, tying his sack back up.
‘Uh, Santa?’ I said catching his attention and sliding Lisa off my knee, ‘could you please check again? Just in case?’
‘I don’t think it’ll be any different but okay,’ Elvis said, winking at me as he did an exaggerated look into his bag, ‘oh, I seem to have missed one! This must be for you.’
Lisa turned around to look at me and I nodded encouraging her to go up to him. She walked tentatively forward until she was stood between his legs.
‘And what’s your name little girl?’ he asked.
‘Lisa Marie,’ she said, chewing on her finger nervously.
‘And have you been a good girl this year?’ he asked with a smile. Lisa nodded enthusiastically, ‘well then this must be for you.’
‘Thank you Santa,’ she said leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Elvis stroked her cheek, pulling back as she ran to me, her gift in her hands.
‘Look what Santa got me Mama!’ she said.
‘Woah baby!’ I said, ‘we’ll open it in a minute okay?’
‘Kay,’ she giggled, clutching it to her chest. Elvis stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder.
‘Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy your presents,’ he said walking away and waving as he did so. The kids waved goodbye though there was certainly less interest in him now they all had their various gifts. I let Lisa open her present, a doll she had been eyeing for months, and then Joan and I shepherded the kids downstairs to the basement which had been decked out for a slumber party. Once they were all situated and the TV was up and running we returned to the party.
Fortunately, the wrapping paper and boxes had been kindly cleared away and the music was back on full volume. Though as I looked around I noticed something missing. Elvis. I checked the clock which told me I had only been gone ten minutes though I was sure it wouldn’t have taken him that long to get changed.
‘Where is he?’ I asked Jerry, who was now sitting on the chair Elvis had vacated.
‘He’s not come back down yet I don’t think,’ he shrugged. I nodded and headed to find him.
He was in our bedroom, sitting on our bed, though I didn’t spot him at first. The lamps were off, the only source of light coming from the bathroom door being open a crack and the low moonlight coming in through the window. I flicked on the lights and moved to the window to shut the curtains.
‘Lisa can’t believe she got that doll! Like she hasn’t been asking for it for the past two months!’ I chuckled yet as I turned around my face fell. He was sitting on the bed still in the Santa suit, though the beard and hat were gone now and his jacket was unbuttoned leaving him partially shirtless. He wasn’t looking at me though, his head was hung as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, ‘everything okay?’
‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ he said with a half-hearted snort. He stood up now, shirking his jacket off and throwing it on the bed.
‘Baby-’ I started but he cut me off. He threw his hands on his hips and looked at me.
‘Why me?’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Why did you pick me to be Santa?’ he asked.
‘Because it’s our party,’ I said not knowing what he was getting at.
‘So?’
‘So I wanted it to be good. And I know you’d be good at it,’ I said, confused by his line of questioning, ‘I mean didn’t you see the way those kids looked at you?’
‘You mean they were happy you managed to find some other fat guy right?’ he spat.
‘What?!’ I asked perplexed.
‘That’s why it had to be me right? Jerry’s too well built, Joe’s too scrawny,’ he said, ‘better get your fat husband to do it.’
‘That’s not true!’ I protested.
‘No, I’m just you’re ‘big strong Santa’ right?’ he said shaking his head. He sat down on the bed, hanging his head again. My heart squoze tighter in my chest.
I’d upset him. It wasn't the first time. He was a sensitive man I knew that but I didn’t know he was feeling like this. That however unintentional my words were they’d hurt him. I took a moment, trying to think of what to say, before I moved to stand between his legs, perching on his knee as I forced him to look up at me. The mirth and merriment he had been wearing not ten minutes ago was gone, replaced with sadness.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said quietly, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you…I didn’t notice.’
‘You didn’t notice I’m the second fattest guy around here now right?’ he scoffed. I placed my hand on his cheek and stroked it gently with my thumb.
‘I didn’t notice that’s how my words might sound….but I didn’t pick you to be Santa because of that. Hell if it was just about getting someone to fit in the damn suit I’d have taped two cushions to Billy and have at it,’ I said. Elvis breathed a small chuckle.
‘I picked you because you have all the qualities I wanted. Kind, loving, mischievous,’ I said with a smile that he returned, the glint in his eye coming back just a tad, ‘I knew those kids would love you as Santa. And I was right. You made them all feel special, especially Lisa. You made her feel like the most important little girl in the world. You made memories she’s gonna have forever.’
‘You think so?’ he asked quietly, resting his head against mine.
‘I know so,’ I said, ‘because that’s how you make me feel every single day.’
‘Even looking like this,’ he said moving a hand that was around me so he could gesture to the slight gut protruding over his belt. I placed my hand on his tummy making him drop his gaze.
‘Are you as skinny as the day I fell in love with you? No. Do I love you just as much as I did then? Absolutely. I love you for you Elvis no matter what. Hell, I’m not exactly the same as when we met. She may have been tiny when she was born but my hips ain’t ever going to be the same after that kid of yours,’ I chuckled.
‘Still gorgeous,’ he mumbled into my temple.
‘If you think that then why don’t you think I feel the same about you?’ I said pulling back. He sighed, ‘I meant it when I said you’re my big strong Santa. Because I don’t see those as bad things. It’s not some code word, well, if it is it’s only good things. I like that you’re strong. I like that when you wrap your arms around me I feel safe. That’s what I meant.’
He stayed quiet for a moment and then nodded finally looking at me. I placed my hand on his cheek and pressed a kiss on his forehead before I rested mine against it.
‘I love you,’ I said.
‘Love you too,’ he whispered kissing me tenderly. After a moment or so I pulled back and slipped off his knee until I was kneeling in between his legs. He raised an eyebrow as I placed my hands on his chest. My words might not have fixed everything but I was determined to get a smile back on his face.
‘You know I realised something when we were downstairs,’ I said absent-mindedly tracing my fingers along his clavicle.
‘Oh yeah?’ he mused.
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘What’s that?’ he said.
‘I realised I’m not gonna be on the nice list this year,’ I said with an exaggerated sigh.
‘Why’s that honey?’ he said, his lip curling up in a smirk.
‘I don’t think you’re allowed to be if you’ve been having dirty thoughts about Santa,’ I giggled. Elvis chuckled, ‘oh yeah? Like what?’
‘I think it’s probably best if I show you,’ I said with a smirk as I pushed him back until he was resting against the bed on his elbows, looking down at me as my fingers fiddled with the black belt of his costume.
‘Maybe this whole Santa thing ain’t so bad after all.’
#my writing#elvis#elvis presley#Elvis Presley Fic#elvis presley x reader#elvis x reader#x reader#elvis x you#elvis presley x you#santa bring my baby back to me#Christmas Party#christmas time#body issues#body confidence#body image issues#graceland#Christmas
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ooh maybe something where wonwoo keeps treating chan out for dinner and slowly he's becoming bigger and more demanding with how much he's getting to eat and wonwoo, being the way he is, is going to completely give into chan's ways but it culminates in him breaking out of his clothes and like pinning wonwoo to a wall with his weight cause he realizes how much they both like it
i've gotta be honest i had no idea how much i liked the concept of being pinned to a wall til i wrote this lol you've awoken something within me
also! this gets ~slightly~ nsfw towards the end. no full-blown smut, but there's a smidge of dirty talk which i hope you're okay with. enjoy! 🩷
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Kabedon
It started out innocently enough, as Valentine’s Day dinners tend to do.
Truthfully, Wonwoo hadn’t taken Chan out to his favourite restaurant with any intention beside wanting to treat his boyfriend to a nice, lavish meal to celebrate their first Valentine’s Day together. It just so happened that for this particular occasion, the restaurant had decided to shelf their typical menu-based service and instead host an all-you-can-eat buffet, which sported increased portion sizes and brand new dishes specially introduced to celebrate the holiday. Hand over heart, Wonwoo had been none the wiser.
Chan loved every second of it. Wonwoo did too, of course, but he hadn’t gone to town on the food the way his boyfriend had. He’d floated between the buffet table and their booth at least five times that evening, his plate coming back fuller and fuller each time. At first, Wonwoo was a little taken aback - Chan was a dancer, a toned, fit dancer who usually watched his diet plan like a hawk. He wasn’t used to seeing him eat so much in one sitting. By the fifth plate, Chan did show some signs of defeat, and by the time the clock struck eight, he was whining for Wonwoo to carry him back to their car, unable to move because his stomach was too tightly packed.
The only thing more unexpected than Chan’s food bender that night was how aroused Wonwoo felt as he watched Chan play with his bloated stomach when they got home. He felt himself grow hard as Chan poked his tummy curiously, admiring its new softness with wide, excited eyes. From there, he’d decided to dip his toes into researching the weird and wonderful world of feedism and weight-related kink, a fascination he’d largely kept to his laptop’s private browser but would soon manifest itself as a palpable, tangible element of their relationship in the real world. Soon enough, they were going out for dinner dates a lot more frequently and, with time, Chan’s obsession with going to the gym and staying slim melted away alongside his fast metabolism.
It was like a domino effect. Chan’s appetite grew exponentially over the course of a year, which inevitably caused him to pack on the pounds quicker than he could count. When he reached 150, he decided cutting back on dance to focus on trying out all the restaurants their city had to offer was the more beneficial route for him to take. By 200, he’d packed in dance altogether. By 250, he was struggling to find new restaurants within reasonable travelling distance for them to visit. By 300, he’d lost interest in venturing outside the house, instead opting to take advantage of the takeout options all his favourite spots offered.
Now, Chan’s at a steady 325 and counting, sitting on the couch with his legs spread to make room for his huge belly as he waits for Wonwoo unbox the three pizzas he’d ordered from the small family-owned pizzeria he’d nearly broken a chair at last year. He cradles his growling stomach tenderly as he surfs through the channels on their TV, a supersized packet of Doritos by his side to tide him over until he can truly dig in.
“You wanted three pepperonis, right, babe?” Wonwoo asks from the kitchen island. Funnily enough, Chan is the only one who’s dived head-first into their newfound love of gaining weight; Wonwoo is still as skinny as ever.
“Yeah,” Chan confirms, licking the dust off his fingers and wiping them on his t-shirt. Damn, it’s getting really small. They’re gonna have to go clothes shopping again at some point. “The best kind. Now get your ass over here, I don’t know how much longer I can go without food. I’ll starve, hyung.”
“You literally just finished eating a huge bag of Doritos.”
Chan scoffs and crinkles up the packet in his hammy fist like it’s personally wronged him. “This is barely food!” He argues. “It was just a light snack. I’m waiting for you to feed me the real food. I don’t know what I need more, you or the pizza.”
Wonwoo sighs as he makes his way over to the couch, but he’s smiling nonetheless. Aside from his weight, one of the biggest changes in their relationship that’s occurred in the past year has been the way Chan speaks to him. When they first started dating, Chan wouldn’t even think of ordering his dear hyung around or overly demanding anything from him. He’d pester him and bat his eyelashes coquettishly until Wonwoo would give into his desires, sure, but he would never boss him around or snap his fingers at him. Times have changed, though, and it seems like with every pound Chan gains, the more spoiled he becomes. Wonwoo has grown accustomed to being treated like Chan’s little maid, buying him food and hand-feeding him and touching him whenever he pleases. Thankfully, they’re both incredibly into it.
The evening unfolds like any other, with Wonwoo feeding Chan and giving him the occasional belly rub and Chan demanding he stuff him faster and faster, and oh, would he be a dear and grab him a can of Sprite from the fridge? It’s as Wonwoo is massaging Chan’s huge belly in efforts to relieve some of the pressure that he realises how truly big he’s gotten. It’s no secret that his boyfriend is teetering on the edge of obesity, he knows that, but sometimes he forgets just how large he is. Half an hour ago Chan’s shirt was snug under his belly button, but now, three pizzas and a tub of ice cream later, it’s rode up to cup his moobs perfectly, displaying the expanse of his belly fully. Wonwoo feels his shorts tent at the sight.
“I’m done, hyung,” Chan declares as he licks the spoon clean. He leans back and runs his chubby hands up and down his swollen body, eyes sparkling. “Need you to touch me, now. Need it so bad.”
Wonwoo grins. “I think I can manage that.” He launches himself on top of Chan, cock throbbing against the fabric of his shorts as it presses against Chan’s stomach. Chan moans to the touch and kisses him deeply, wrapping his fat arms around Wonwoo’s itty-bitty waist and pulling him closer. He tastes like cheese and bread and cookie dough, and Wonwoo can’t get enough, can never get enough.
Eventually, Chan pulls back and spreads his legs even wider, slapping the top of his inner thigh with a suggestive wink. Wonwoo’s eyes trail to his crotch, and he sees that beneath his belly, Chan is almost as hard as he is.
“You gonna fill me up, hyung?” Chan asks wistfully.
Wonwoo nods jerkily. “The lube’s in the drawer over by the ornaments. Go be a good boy and get it for me.” When you have a boyfriend who looks like Chan who spends a majority of his time on the couch, you learn to keep your inventory in some unconventional places.
Chan pulls a face at being told what to do, but follows his boyfriend’s command regardless. He builds up momentum by swinging his legs back and forth before hoisting himself up, fat jiggling all over as he waddles over to the drawer to hunt for their favourite watermelon flavoured lube. He bends down with some difficulty to retrieve it, and before Wonwoo can even think of a teasing comment to taunt him with, the hem of Chan’s sweatpants burst wide open, his fat surging forward.
If Wonwoo wasn’t rock-hard before, he’s sporting a fucking canyon by now.
“Wow, baby,” Wonwoo practically growls. “I knew those pants were getting a little tight but I didn’t think you’d pop out of them today. Here, you look like you could use some help getting them off.” Chan whimpers as Wonwoo jumps off the couch and pulls his sweatpants off for him, the fabric uncomfortably tight and sweaty around the parts of his legs they’re still clinging to. When they’re finally tossed onto the floorboards, he lets out a huge sigh of relief and reaches out to wrap Wonwoo up in his embrace. It seems as though he’d severely underestimated the sheer mass of his body, though, because instead of smooshing into his boyfriend gently like he plans to, he slams him into the wall, pinning him up against the wallpaper with nothing but his belly.
For a while, it feels like neither of them can breathe.
“Hyung, are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorr-”
“This might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever done to me,” Wonwoo interrupts, eyes wide and glazed over. His whole face is tinged pink, and when Chan attempts to roll off him, Wonwoo seizes two fistfuls of his hips and pulls him right back in. Chan squeaks, half in surprise, half in pleasure.
“You’ve got to do that on purpose sometime,” Wonwoo groans dazedly.
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Toxic Parents
Robin Buckley x reader (one-shot)
Warnings: verbal abuse, mentions of food.
“You okay, love?” Robin questioned squeezing your hand softly, you where standing outside your house, about to knock on the door. It was the first time Robin was visiting your parents, you wanted your parents to meet her so they invited both of you over for Christmas dinner.
“Yeah,” you muttered knocking on the door, your parents could be really mean to you sometimes you just hoped they would behave in front of Robin. Robin looked at you concerned but before she could speak again your mom opened the door.
“Hi mom! I missed you!” you said excitedly, Robin smiled at your enthusiasm but the smile left just as quick as it came at your mothers response.
“Y/N,” she said dryly opening the door wider to let you in, not even giving you a hug. It had been months since you last saw them, you should’ve expected this. Nothing had changed. You walked in tugging Robin inside, the house was just like you remembered it.
“This is Robin mom, my girlfriend ,” you said as you walked to the dining room, following her. She stopped turning to face them.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. L/N!” Robin said politely lifting her hand to shake your moms. Your mom shook her hand and gave her a small nod before continuing to walk to the dining room.
“Your father just finished cooking dinner, take a seat,” your mom told you and you nodded, tugging Robin towards the table and sitting next to her, she pulled out the chair for you and gave you a small smile. She really hoped your dad wasn’t like you mom. Your mom took a seat in front of you.
“So, why did you decide to call now after all this time?” your mom questions and you frowned.
“It’s Christmas,” you mumbled making your mom scoff.
“So you just want to see us during holidays, get some food and leave for months again?” your mom said raising her voice. Robin watched the two of you talk in complete shock, she had no idea your mom was like this.
“N-no, I-I called but,” you started before being interrupted by your mom.
“Stop stuttering you are not a baby anymore use your damn words,” Robin’s eyes went wide in shock and you just cleared your throat wanting to speak up but no words where coming out.
“Dinners ready!” Your dad yelled coming out with trays of food and placing them on the table for you to serve yourselves. Your mouth watered at how good the food looked.
“Hi dad, this is my partner Robin” you said a little less enthusiastic, and Robin grabbed your hand under the table squeezing it.
“Hi Robin! Nice to meet you!” he said smiling warmly at her and she smiled back.
“Nice to meet you too sir,”
Your dad sat down next to your mom and they started serving themselves food. The food looked amazing and you grabbed Robin’s plate serving them what you knew they liked and placing it back in front of them.
“Thanks love,” she whispered and you smiled at her gently.
You started to serve yourself food now, you where starving having spent hours studying/working before this you had missed lunch. You grabbed a few slices of turkey since it smelled delicious, a little bit of mashed potatoes, stuffing and two bread rolls.
“Y/N, you’re going to eat all that food?” your dad questioned and your face went bright red in embarrassment.
“It’s not that much food dad,” you whispered.
“Thats a lot of carbs, honey you look like you’ve gained weight,” he said and your eyes watered. You silently placed the two bread rolls back and he nodded his head in approval. Robin was frowning, angry at your parents comments but she decided to keep calm for now, they where your parents after all.
“Also, what are you wearing? And where’s your make up? You could really use some,” your mom questioned. Your eyes burned and your throat went dry. Robin stopped eating completely focusing on you, she looked at your sad eyes and she couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Thats enough, we are leaving,” Robin said, standing up an extending a hand to pull you up. You looked up at her with teary eyes and their heart broke, she gave you a soft reassuring smile. You took their hand standing up.
“Y/N IF YOU LEAVE NOW DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO US AGAIN!” your mom screamed standing up and slamming the table making you flinch backward. Robin stood protectively in front of you and she shook her head in disappointment.
“How can you be like that to your only daughter?” She questioned sadly and your moms eyes widened but before she could say anything Robin grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the house. She walked a few blocks away from the house before turning to face you.
As soon as they looked at you tears started to fall from your eyes and Robin pulled you in for a hug.
“Shh, it’s okay love, you’re safe now,” she whispered against your head and you buried your face on her neck, your body shaking as you cried. Her hand rubbed your back comfortingly and after your body stopped shaking she kissed your head and you lifted your head to look at her, teary eyed and a small pout on your lips.
“you’re prefect, princess, please don’t listen to anything they said okay?I promise you are perfect,” she kissed your pout softly and her hands wiped the tears from your face. You nodded your head and she pulled you in for another hug. Her arms squeezing you and she planted kisses on your temple every few seconds.
“’m hungry,” you rasped out after a few moments and she chuckled pulling back and kissing your lips again, your eyes closed at the contact and the tingles it gave you.
“Let’s got eat at *favorite restaurant*?” She asked giving you a gentle smile and you nodded your head smiling back at her.
“I love you ‘bins,” you muttered and her heart started pounding faster, cheeks flushed.
“I love you even more angel, always,”
and when you tried to order a little less food than you usually do she held your hand and ordered the rest of your usual order.
A/N: I wrote this so long ago for another character lol anyways Robin and Nancy requests are open!!
#ch: robin buckley#robin x reader#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley fluff#robin st#st x reader#st fluff
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processing some weight gain stuff under the cut
okay. in 18 weeks of pregnancy I have gained 15 pounds, which according to the guidelines I was given is a LOT more than I’m supposed to have gained at this stage. based on my starting weight I am only supposed to gain 15-25 lbs total across the entire pregnancy, which idk people seem to be mixed on whether that’s actually realistic but that is what the doctor says. in the last two weeks I went up 4 lbs, and that was with a terrible cold that totally killed my appetite and made it very easy to not indulge in holiday food (I couldn’t taste anything). I am exercising a little less (30-45 min daily walks instead of 45-75) but not like, SO much less yknow? and I have also been tracking my caloric intake on an app to make sure I’m not going over (although I think my real motivation there is if a doctor gives me a hard time about weight gain I’m going to be like yeah well here’s 15+ weeks of data on my eating habits so you tell ME what’s going on).
the point is that based on a calories in calories out model I shouldn’t be gaining this much weight this fast but I am. that’s just what seems to be happening! so I think I just have to LET GO and accept that my body is going to do whatever it thinks is best to support the pregnancy. I can still make good choices but I need to decouple the choices from the outcomes. or like, I need to accept that my good choices will produce good outcomes (I’ll be eating nourishing food and moving my body regularly!) but those outcomes will probably not include weight loss or a slowing of weight gain. here is what I will continue doing:
meal plan every week—I might want to start thinking about meal planning snacks too esp as I am feeling hungrier during the day
eat lots of fruits and vegetables every day
eat very limited amounts of processed foods and watch out for added sugars
walk briskly for 30-45 min a day
go to this hourlong weights class at least 2x a week (ideally 3x) and tack on 20-25 min of cardio on the bike after
I could also try going to the gym more often to do low-impact cardio—like trying to work in a couple days a week where I do 45 min on the elliptical while watching an episode of TV. I do find that in the past doing a lot of that mindless low effort activity seems to help with weight maintenance and is pretty easy to sustain because I’m just like, as long as I’m moving it counts! I don’t have to be pushing myself super hard! this is probably most doable for me on the weekends (and if I’m at the gym already it increases the chances that I might decide to run too).
ok so here’s a rough plan:
sat & sun: walk dogs (30-45 min x 2) + try to do 30 min x 2 of extra cardio while watching TV at the gym (or when liz is feeling better I can see if she wants to go together or do pregnancy workout videos)
mon & tues: weights class one of those days depending on work schedule + 20 min extra cardio one day + 30-45 min walk both days
wed: 30-45 min walk
thurs: this is my busy/long day with work stuff and rehearsal, but I can usually squeeze in a 20 min dog walk and could try parking far away and walking into work on days when it isn’t raining to get another 20+ min in
fri: weights class + 30-45 min walk
and I gotta remember I can make the walks less boring by 1) driving to a random neighborhood and walking from there and 2) talking to friends on the phone instead of just listening to stuff.
OKAY. the takeaway is: I DO NOT NEED TO FEEL GUILT OR SHAME ABOUT THE FACT THAT I AM PUTTING ON A LOT OF WEIGHT. I AM FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS PREGNANT! THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT MY BODY IS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING! I ALSO REFUSE TO LET DOCTORS OR THE INTERNET MAKE ME FEEL GUILTY ABOUT MY WEIGHT, BECAUSE I KNOW I AM MAKING HEALTHY CHOICES THAT ARE GOOD FOR MY BODY, MY BABY, AND MY MENTAL HEALTH. I ALSO WANT TO GENTLY DECOUPLE GOOD/HEALTHY CHOICES FROM SPECIFIC OUTCOMES. EATING WELL AND STAYING ACTIVE THROUGH MY PREGNANCY MAY NOT KEEP ME FROM GAINING “EXCESS” WEIGHT. BUT IT WILL MAKE ME FEEL BETTER IN MY BODY/SELF. IT WILL ENSURE THAT MY BABY IS GETTING LOTS OF GOOD NUTRIENTS. IT WILL HELP ME SLEEP BETTER AND FOCUS MORE AT WORK. IT WILL HOPEFULLY MAKE LABOR AND RECOVERY A LITTLE BIT EASIER TOO! I AM DOING ALL THE RIGHT THINGS AND IT IS OKAY THAT MY BODY IS NOT CONFORMING TO THE PRESCRIBED NORM. I TRUST MY BODY AND ASSUME IT HAS ITS REASONS!!!!!!!!!!!
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Ch.92 - Thankful - Part 1
Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter
Simon and Bud manage to score a big turkey for Thanksgiving; Kiera and Baler make a plan to go into town for the upcoming holiday.
"Baler," Kiera whispered from behind the couch, looking over to see the teen's sleeping form spread across the leather couch, his mouth agape and his right arm above his head. "Baler."
"Hmph?" He grumbled, his eyes still closed, taking a few moments before fluttering his eyes open, looking around to follow the sound of Kiera's soothing voice - her motherly voice.
"It's time to get up."
His eyes followed the sound of her voice, looking up to see her face looking down at him from behind the couch, Evie's curious gaze looking at her mother's face as she sat securely against Kiera's hip. "Wh-What time is it?"
"It's almost nine."
Baler shot up at the time, hating himself for oversleeping. "I'm sorry for oversleeping, Miss Kiera. I'll go get ready and go to the barn-"
"Not today, Baler. You worked late last night and missed dinner. You'll be coming with me into town today to get some groceries for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow night while Simon is out hunting with my dad."
"O-Okay," Baler nodded, shaking his head as he had forgotten briefly about addressing her like he did Simon. "Um, yes ma'am."
"Thank you. Your breakfast is on the table and after you finish up, you can get ready to go into town while I'm getting the babies ready. I may need a hand with getting their stroller in the truck."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll help."
Kiera couldn't help but smile at his improved behavior, hoping he was just as proud as she and Simon were of him for coming such a long way in a short period of time.
Although his path wasn't easy as he and Simon didn't see eye-to-eye on some things, but one thing was for certain: Simon made it very clear that major consequences came if Baler ever disrespected Kiera again, especially around their infants.
He watched as Kiera nodded, standing up to fold the blanket he used to sleep with and drape it over the back of the couch before taking his pillow and fluffing it to put it in the drawer along with taking his dirty clothes from the day before into the hamper in the laundry room. He was thankful to see a plate of hearty breakfast waiting for him when he sat down - two pancakes, two scrambled eggs, and four pieces of bacon. If Miss Kiera keeps making me big breakfasts like this, I won't be able to work being this full... But I'm not complaining, he thought as he wasted no time in digging in.
A few minutes later, Kiera returned into the kitchen with free hands, putting her hair into a loose bun as she made a plate of breakfast for herself, sitting down across from Baler with a playful arch of her brow, "Good Lord, did you taste anything?" She giggled.
"Uh... Yeah? It's good." He replied, confused.
"You're eating that so fast I would assume you didn't taste anything."
Baler chuckled, "Oh, yeah. It was so bad, I'll need another plate to get the taste out of my mouth."
She laughed at his wit, "Well, you're more than welcome to get another plate if you want."
"What about your husband?" He questioned, feeling like he hadn't earned Simon's respect yet to address him by his first name.
Kiera grinned, "He ate early this morning before he met my dad for hunting. He doesn't usually eat a big breakfast. He says big breakfasts make him gain weight."
"I mean, if I ate a breakfast like this every day, I wouldn't be surprised if I got fat too." Baler chuckled, taking a drink of water from the glass.
"Hey, I gotta make sure you and him don't starve."
Baler shrugged, "Well, you're definitely good at making sure we don't starve."
"Just wait until Thanksgiving," She arched her brow. "I'm making banana pudding this year and I know you and Simon won't just have one serving of it."
"I've never had it," He replied after swallowing. "This will be my first Thanksgiving."
"Well, you certainly deserve to have a Thanksgiving with a family that is happy to have you."
"R-Really? Your husband doesn't seem to like me..."
Kiera huffed, "This was all a big surprise for him. He doesn't take to surprises very well, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like you. You and him are just alike. And I told him that where you two are just alike that he had an opportunity to make you into a man better than your father."
"My dad was a piece of shit-" He replied angrily, his eyes immediately widening at the realization that he had just cursed in front of Kiera. "I-I'm sorry. He was uh-"
"A piece of shit, I know," She finished for him, arching her brow. "It's okay, just... refrain from using curse words in front of me when I have the kids."
"And especially around your husband?"
"Right," Kiera nodded. "Although he's technically not my husband yet. He's my fiancé."
"Oh. I-I thought you two were married since you have kids..."
"That's what anyone would think, but the pregnancy was a surprise," She chuckled. "Our kids took his last name before I did."
"When's the wedding?"
"I don't know yet. I was thinking sometime in the fall - maybe next year."
"Oh."
"Yeah. I'm going to finish up and start getting ready. I'd like to leave here before eleven."
Baler nodded, watching Kiera finish up the small amount of food on her plate before taking it to the sink, ridding the remnants of food from her plate before walking into her and Simon's bedroom to get ready for the day, Baler vaguely hearing her voice from the other room, concluding she had been talking on the phone as her tone was loving and welcoming.
She had been talking to Simon.
"When do you think you'll be home?"
"Okay. Well, I'll come down to the barn to see you before we go into town. I'm going to take Baler with me so I can put the kids in their stroller and have him push the cart."
"Okay. I'll see you in a little bit!"
"I love you too!"
*
Without complaints, Baler helped Kiera load the stroller into the bed of her truck as well as offering any assistance when she secured the infants into their car seats, getting into the passenger seat as Kiera began driving towards the barn to meet Simon at the barn, watching him and her father beginning to harvest the massive turkey he had shot early that morning. She smirked as she rolled down her window, watching as her father had begun draining the turkey. "Looks like you're going to be busy all day."
Simon's head turned towards the sound of her voice, a smirk plastering on his face as he approached her truck, leaning his veined arms against the open window, feeling the heat from the vents on his face. "I'd rather do this all day than go into public." He chuckled.
"I'd say so, babe," She sighed. "I'm dreading going into town."
"Want me to go with you?"
"I always want you to go with me places," She giggled. "But you don't have to. Just doing some shopping."
"I can meet you there if you want. I don't like thinking you'll needing help and I'm not there, especially with you knowing how paranoid I am about you going to public places by yourself."
"I know, babe. So am I."
Simon leant closer towards her to ask his next question in a low tone, "Do you at least have your gun?"
"I don't leave the house without it," She grinned. "Momma is packin'."
"I prefer you not if I'm with you, but I feel better knowing you can defend yourself if something happens."
"Would you feel better if you came with me?"
"I would, actually," Simon nodded. "You're going to have your hands full and I don't want you to get overwhelmed."
"Okay. What're you going to do about the turkey?" She asked, nodding her head towards the game that her father had strung, making work of processing the wild animal he was thankful for as it could feed the entire family, including the guests at the ranch, at least twice.
"Considering Soap is leaning over your father's shoulder absolutely mesmerized, I think I won't have an issue finding someone to take over. Your father seemed eager to get to dressing that bloke after I shot it. I think he's mad." He chuckled.
"I'm sure he's jealous since you beat him to the kill."
"He won't admit it, but he is," Simon chuckled. "I'll go and tell him and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?"
"I'll be right here." She smiled as she watched him walk towards her father and Soap, chuckling at how Soap looked like a kid in a candy store as he watched Bud skin and gut the turkey.
"So... Does this mean I have to get out and go to work?" Baler asked nervously.
"Nope," Kiera smiled, looking over at him. "Unless you'd rather..."
"Honestly, no."
"I don't blame you, kid. Cleaning out stalls is hard work."
"It's not too bad," He huffed. "I guess I'll get in the back seat between the babies?"
"Yeah. There's plenty of room back there for you."
"I'm a lot smaller than him," Baler scoffed, referring to Simon as the man was twice his size in comparison. Maybe even three times bigger than me, the teen thought. The man is so big, he made her shoot out two kids at a time instead of one... he mused, unable to hide his chuckle with a smirk at the inappropriate joke. "He'd probably be mad if I didn't move to the back seat for him."
"He wouldn't be mad, but he'd be pissed where he wouldn't have much leg room. Although I'll probably let him drive. He swears up and down that I drive my own vehicle like I stole it-"
"-Because you do," Simon cut her off, approaching the vehicle after ridding himself of his camouflage jacket, revealing the long-sleeved black undershirt he wore under it, leaving him in just his jeans and shirt as well as taking off the hunter orange balaclava that kept his face warm in the cold November air. "I'd prefer it if we get there safely, especially with the little ones."
Kiera scoffed at his comment, "Says the one who got his driver's license from a cereal box!" She teased.
"Big words for a lass who backed up into a light pole with a back-up camera."
"I don't know what you're talking about. There's no dents to prove it."
"Steel flatbeds tend to have that effect, love," He huffed. "Move over, the Captain is back on his ship." He smirked, loving how easily he wound Kiera up with their playful banter, seeing the sarcastic retort waiting to spew from her lips.
"No, the Captain is at his cabin puffing on a cigar and enjoying his morning coffee while some private is over here trying to judge my apparent driving." She arched her brow, watching Simon's eyes widen at the insult, shooting her a playful glare at the wrong acknowledgment of his rank.
He waited to shoot his response after he helped her out of the driver's seat, leaning close to her ear, "You keep that up and you won't be able to wear those jeans again." He warned playfully, his constant attraction towards her peaking with every flattering outfit she wore, especially the jeans she favored - maternity jeans to be exact - as they were comfortable against her midsection as her C-Section site was still very much sore after her uterus had completely shrunken back to its normal size, leaving almost constant soreness in its wake with every engagement of her abdominal muscles.
That, and she was ashamed to acknowledge that she had gained weight after delivering the twins, hoping to conceal her weight gain with loose-fitting clothes, hoping Simon would never see her any different after having their children as well as living with the constant fear that he would fall out of love with her for losing her "pre-pregnancy body."
But Simon noticed.
Did he care? No.
A hard fucking no. He loved every stretch mark, the scar from her C-Section that was a constant reminder of what she had brought into this world for him - for them, knowing that the operation saved Evie's life during labor. He didn't care if she gained another hundred pounds - it didn't change how she was towards him and how he fell in love with her. He saw that fear of rejection in her eyes every time she contemplated on wearing something nice just to change into something that concealed her weight gain, knowing it tore her up more emotionally to see her body in a different state than how much it hurt Simon to watch her judge herself for how she looked. Love, if you wanted to go back to the gym, I'll go with you. If you'd rather stay in bed all day, I'll be right there. Nothing will take away the woman I fell in love with.
"Oh, is that a threat?" She giggled.
"More like a promise."
"But I like these jeans..."
"They make thousands of them. I'll buy you another pair after I cut them off of you if you call me private again." He joked, a strained tone of arousal hiding in the back of his throat, careful not to make their flirting obvious as he walked her around the front of the truck, opening the passenger side door for her as Baler got out, Kiera knowing she could wind Simon up as much as he did her knowing that he wouldn't have a sarcastic remark waiting for her since Baler would be in the middle of it.
"Thank you, private." She smiled, reaching behind her to secure herself into the seat with the seatbelt, watching that playful glare stay sharp in his eyes while his lips tightened, noticing how his veins protruded slightly more as his grip on the door tightened.
"You were just a private in the Army?" Baler guessed, hearing the term with innocent intention, furrowing his brows after he heard Kiera's giggle, wondering what Simon would respond with.
"No, I was a Lieutenant," He huffed. "She just likes to piss me off intentionally."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Get in the back. It's gonna be a long day."
After various playful and seductive glares between the couple, as well as plenty of sarcastic comments about how Kiera kept her seat so close to the steering wheel, they both looked over at her father and Soap, watching the Scottish Sergeant wiping a bead of sweat from his brow after tossing various parts of the turkey into the galvanized bucket. "Hey!" Simon shouted from inside the truck, getting the men's attention. "Need anything while we're gone?"
"A million dollars!" Soap replied.
"Where've I heard that before?" Simon scoffed.
"I have a lot of dad jokes to memorize. Being an uncle and a full-time ranch hand is a hard job."
"You're technically not an uncle and barely a ranch hand?" Simon poked, his tone sounding legitimate. "You're like a blister - you show up when the work is done."
Both Soap and Bud laughed.
"Now that's a dad joke! Sounds like you got those down pat, L.T."
"Yeah, because I'm technically a dad."
"Harsh," Soap shook his head, resting his hands on his hips before pointing to the neighbor's chocolate Labrador who was grooming himself. "Hey, look at that dog over there licking his ballocks!"
Bud shook his head, hiding a chuckle behind his white mustache, "His what?"
"Licking his balls," Soap corrected. "I wish I could do that."
Bud straightened his posture, a heavy sigh leaving his lips, Kiera being the only one to pick up on the sarcastic comment that was pending behind his unaged wit. "Well, I'd probably go and pet him first. He looks kinda mean."
Both Simon and Kiera couldn't help but laugh at the old man's remark as well as Soap's flushed face of embarrassment, knowing he didn't have a sly retort. "And that's our cue to leave."
"Why?" Baler questioned from the back seat, making eye contact with the man in the rear view mirror. "I was wondering if he had something stupid to say back."
Simon breathed a chuckle, "Because knowing him, he'd actually try and I don't want to traumatize myself by having to watch it happen, but trust me, you'll hear plenty of stupid shite that comes from his mouth."
"Kiera said no cursing in front of the kids..."
He watched Simon huff before he glanced over at her, watching her nod her head in agreement at her early attempt at successful parenting. "It's not like they'll know what that word means until they're four." He stated, hoping he had an excuse to curse as it came as a second instinct to him.
"Their brains are like a sponge, babe. I'm starting to think you'll be the first one to teach them a bad word," Kiera teased. "Besides, you have an almost grown young man to look after now, so we have a head start on raising one around a good role model."
"They're almost three months old, love-"
"Still." She arched her brow, smirking at his defeat before watching him turn his head to look at Baler in the back seat.
She knew Simon was going to be petty.
"Shite." He mouthed, knowing he was grinding Kiera's gears as well as finding the situation humorous.
"God," She sighed playfully, resting her elbow on the console. "I can't wait until I can start vaping again. Haven't had nicotine in over a year now-"
"You're about to make me start with this new 'no cursing' rule," He huffed. "And no. I would rather you burn those bloody things before taking a hit off of another one."
"I know. Feels kinda good since I quit."
"Let's keep it that way, yeah?"
#simon riley#simonriley#simon ghost riley#simonghostriley#simon riley ghost#simon riley x reader#simon riley x oc#call of duty#callofduty#call of duty modern warfare 2#ghost riley#simon riley x og female#simon ghost riley x og female#simon ghost riley fanfic#simon ghost riley cod#cod mw2#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost mw2#simon riley call of duty#simon riley cod#simon riley x female reader
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Good morning, sweet Alice!! I hope everything is OK with you. I was off for a bit and am catching up. I just want to say thank you for sharing your personal story about being scared at the museum. I am so sorry you felt that way, but I do think it's important to spread awareness since the media clearly won't. I am often shocked sometimes when I talk to someone who just doesn't get how bad antisemitism has gotten. We are in grant writing season for the festival, and weekly, I talk to people from all over about what they face. Especially those who traveled to Isreal over the holidays. Sometimes, actually hearing it from someone they know carries so much more weight than something you glance over in the news. So thank you, and if there is anything we can ever do help, I hope you say so. BTW isn't your birthday approaching?
And just to throw in some Buddie love.. I was dying at the team putting them in those suits for their oceans 11 poker night. Like we saw them suit up for Hens wedding and they were super fine.. However, can I just add those suits were a level up and definitely a statement. Just a loud total statement. Can you imagine 2 over 30 guys you know showing up anywhere looking like that and you are just like, look the 2 super hedro platonic crime fighting raising kid together duo arrived to the party and there is absolutely everything normal about their outfits!! So as always to the 911 tem I thank you!!
Hi hon! I'm so happy to hear from you! I noticed you went a bit quiet, and was just hoping everything's alright for you... I'm really glad to hear you are! *picks you up and twirls you round*
And no, thank YOU for being so kind to me! I really can't express how much it means to me. So I'm just gonna have to hug you extra tight, if that's okay? And yeah, the media is a business. It will only tell the story it thinks it can gain something from. I am CONSTANTLY shocked by how bad antisemitism is getting, and how little is done about it. I have a post queued up that, to say it shocked me is just... not enough. I could post once every single day about the rise in antisemitism, and it still wouldn't be enough. It breaks my heart to hear from Jewish kids who visit our Holocaust museum about how they're harassed and bullied for sharing that they're going to Israel to see family, friends or even simply to get to see the sights of their ancestral homeland. It's insane to me that this is what we've come to less than 100 years after the end of the Holocaust. No "Never again!" statement is worth a damn thing if this is how Jewish kids get treated. Thank you again, for listening to the voices of distressed Jews, for wanting to hear us, for being so kind to us when we speak! I did say a few words here about what can be done for starters. But really, anything to raise awareness regarding how Jews are being targeted worldwide. In this context, thank you for what you do at your job, too! *HUGS FOREVER*
Aaaah, my birthday! I haven't had a chance to think about it with everything that's been going on in real life. XD It's less than two months away, I was born June 5th. Thank you for caring about it! :***
LOL I couldn't agree with you more regarding Buddie and their VERY OBVIOUS DATE COUTURE. Like, their suits for the Henren wedding were respectable. Their suits for the poker date were MEANT TO ENTICE. They were SHARP and SEDUCTIVE. Even on the level of the fabrics chosen for the suits! Let alone the colors, they way our boys carried themselves in them, and the way the suits worked together to make them look like an actual couple, almost as if they coordinated beforehand. There was NOTHING platonic about ANY of the poker shenanigans, suits included, and I still feel half mad whenever I think about it. ;D
Thank you so much again, my darling! I hope you're having a good day! As always, my ask tag. xoxox
#buddie#911meta#buddie meta#911 meta#9-1-1#evan buckley#eddie diaz#ask#daphnesvalley#personal#antisemitism#israel#terror attack#fandom love#kindness#thank you!#<33333#911onabc#911 on abc#911abc#911 abc
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New year is a time when people make a lot of resolutions. I guess it makes sense, as the beginning of the year also sort of symbolizes a new start in your life? Honestly, though, I’ve never quite understood the practice, and you can have a new start any time you want.
One common subject of these resolutions, after the holidays filled with all kinds of delicacies, is exercising and losing weight. I’ve recently been talking about this with a couple of friends who both fret about their weight and how hard it seems to be to do something about it, even though (so they think) it shouldn’t be. Anyway, the internet’s full of all kinds of motivational stories about how simple it is practically to become a new person. I remember one, from years ago, of a young woman who grew tired of being called such a weakling and started doing daily push-ups to gain strength. And sure, her development was quite something, in the end she was able to do that trick where you clap your hands together when you push yourself up.
But the thing is, the starting point… on day 1, she did proper push-ups. That was kind of crushing to me. She’s someone people consider weak, and she can do push-ups? I could barely, somehow, do some kind of half-assed knee push-ups. If I took the proper push-up position, I just stayed there a moment on shaky arms and then collapsed down. So if she was weak, what was I? >_> What was supposed to be motivational, was for me anything but.
In autumn 2020, I met with one friend and complained to her how now that I’m just sitting at home I’m getting in even worse shape than before. She recced me these youtube exercises, a certain channel, and… well, I thought it’s definitely not my thing, but I decided to give it a try. The first video I was doing was this 20 min home walking thing, quite simple, but boy was I sweating when I was done with it. But to my surprise, I kept on doing it, 5 or 6 times a week. Quarantine times were perfect for that, really, as I was home all the time. 20 minutes, that’s not much, and with a youtube video I could do it at any point during the day I wanted.
Relatively soon my weight started going down a bit. Then it stopped and I in fact gained a bit weight back (I guess muscle weighs more than fat?). I didn’t mind, though, as my waistline was still a bit smaller, and to be honest, I was doing this to get in better shape, losing weight was just a side benefit. Now, I’ve been doing these exercises for over two years. (Yeah, I’m still myself stunned about this!) Not anymore as often as in the beginning, but I try to do them at least 3 times a week. I’ve also moved to heavier exercises, and it’s been really fun to realize that I can do things I wasn’t able to do before.
I can do push-ups. I can finally for the first time in my life do fucking push-ups! Ok, so not that many, and no tricks, but still! (I didn’t start working on upper body before I’d exercised at least for a year, simply because being so weak in my upper body made those exercises extra hard, and so I hated doing them. ^^;;) Anyway, my waistline is now 10 cm thinner than when I started, and that 20 min video I was doing in the beginning is now light(er) exercise I might do when watching something else.
Also, I haven’t really changed my other habits at all. I love chocolate (and everything unhealthy) too much for that. ^^ Just eating some chips as I write this…
Anyway, I guess the point here is that if you wish to lose weight/get into better shape, find something that suits you and stick to it. Of course, if you want faster and bigger effects, I bet stuff like changing your diet helps too, but honestly, you don’t have to give up the good stuff in your life for this. (It’s all about priorities. Chocolate over sixpack for me!)
(Maybe I should link that video I started with, too. It’s here.)
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