#get MILKSHAKES and BURGERS and.. ONION RINGS

[dykejugheadjones]

i wanna go to a little american diner so bad and get a burger and milkshakes and cherry pie at a small town in the midst of a murder investigations diner

[residentrookie]

trying to explain what cookout is to someone who isn't from the states or the south is both the heaviest burden and the greatest gift.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

I know I absolutely should not have gone 8 1/2 hours without eating, but noting that I'm still having stomach symptoms when there is nothing in my body is very telling

[mywritersmind]

CAT PARENTS - LN

pt.2

summary : A kitten is all it takes to get two strangers in the same bed for the night. Lando likes how she doesn’t know him, Olivia likes the cat that he’s trying to take from her.

warning : Just Lando, Olivia, and Juna being adorable (again) !

word count : 1459

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

I’m in Landos clothes in the bathroom thirty minutes later. I had the best shower of my life, wiping away my club stink and snuggling into baggy sweats and a McLaren shirt.

I hype myself up in the mirror, there’s very few occasions where i’ve stayed over at a man’s house. All of those have been after sex. I am not going to have sex with Lando. It’s a weird learning curve but I was the one who wanted me to stay more.

He lets out a laugh when I walk out, slapping his hand back over his mouth he says, “I didn’t mean to laugh!”

I smile and spin around, “That’s fine. I mean… I do look sort of ridiculous.” his clothes do not fit me by any means…

He shakes his head, playing with Juna who is chasing a feather attached to a stick, “No, you look good.” His voice is a bit raspy, sounds tired.

This should not have an effect on me but the butterfly’s are definitely there.

“So Olivia.” he uses my real name, “If you don’t like F1, what sports do you like?”

I smile and sit next to him, “Soccer mostly.”

He side eyes me, “Football?”

I eye him right back, “Soccer.”

He smiles, happy with our disagreement, “Why not Formula?”

I sigh and shrug, “Sort of rough on an Americans sleep schedule. My dad loves it actually! But when I got to college I never got back into it.”

“That’s good.”

“What, that I never got back into it?” I look at him playing with Juna, a rouge curl falling into his face.

“No. You said your dad loves it. That’ll mean he likes me.” There go those damn butterfly’s, “Unless he doesn’t like McLaren.”

I smile to myself, “He’s a ferrari fan.”

He sighs, “Ah… might have to win his trust then.” I should not be thinking about how much my dad would like Lando.

I lean back against my arms, “And what makes you so sure you’re going to meet him?

He smiles softly back at me, “We have a child together now.” He grabs Juna and brings her close to his face. Something about him and this cat is just melting my heart.

“Right.” I smile and pet under her chin, “Lovely. We’re stuck together forever, I guess.”

His blue eyes meet mine, “I guess.”

____

“Oh my-” I take a bite of my burger that Lando and I ordered. The burger was the first thing ordered, followed by fries, two milkshakes, chicken tenders, more fries, chips, and onion rings.

Lando laughs at my groaning as he nibbles on his chicken, “Like it?”

“It even tastes rich.” I shake my head, “Wanna try?” I don’t know why I say it. I hate sharing my food, I won’t even share my water with my best friend.

He shakes his head, “Nah i’m sort of… picky.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrug and keep eating.

“Back to our game?” He asks, biting into a fry. I nod as he starts, “Favorite color?”

“Blue, Navy.” Although his eyes could be changing my mind on the navy part. “Favorite holiday?”

“Christmas. It’s always during winter break, obviously. So I get all the time I want with my family.”

“That’s really sweet.” I sip my milkshake, “Is it hard, being away all the time? Even if you do love it.”

“Not your turn yet.” He raises a brow, “What’s your favorite memory from your childhood?”

“Hm… I wasn’t exactly a child, But still. I was seventeen and had just got out of a horrible relationship.” he frowns at this, “Don’t worry I poured coffee on him- anyway my friends and I drove to the beach, absolutely blasting Taylor Swift, and we just swam in our clothes.” I shrug, “It was like midnight.”

He smiles as I tell the story, “It’s so cool you grew up by the beach.” thank you cali.

“Answer my question now, please.”

He sighs, “It’s hard. My sister has a kid so I wish I was with her a lot… but honestly my parents can make it to a lot of races and it’s not like I have a girlfriend to worry about.” I laugh at this.

I try to sound casual, “I’m assuming you have in the past?”

“Yes…” he says suspiciously, “but it’s tough. What about you, got anyone special?”

“Definitely not. Broke up with my college boyfriend a while ago…” Why am I telling him this?

He whistles, “How old are you?”

“Twenty three.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I’m twenty four.”

“That is good.” I laugh and he laughs with me, “You’re young.” I say.

He shakes his head, “So are you. I forget sometimes.”

“That you’re young?”

He shrugs and wipes his hands on a napkin, “Being a driver doesn’t exactly scream ‘first job!’”

“I never really thought about that. My first job was a wedding calligrapher though.” He laughs, “I’m serious!”

“I believe you! It’s just… random.”

“You’re random.” I roll my eyes as if that was any insult.

I hear scraping and see Juna join us on the bed the next second, I laugh at the tiny kitten climbing up the bed. She walks right on top of Lando, up his arm and on his neck.

“She likes me!” He whisper yells. I lay my head on the pillow, getting tired after my day.

“She has good reason to.” I say as I yawn, closing my eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now, Livvy.”

“I’m not…”

____

LANDO NORRIS

She fell asleep. I look at the clock, 2:23am. I set Juna down but she keeps trying to get my attention as I clean up our food.

I’ve enjoyed this far too much. I like her company.

This girl i’ve just met. I barely know her!

Yet I feel like I've known her for years.

I shouldn’t get attached. I don’t easily. But with Olivia it feels like I've known her since I was in school.

That could be the late hours talking though. But still, we’ve been talking for hours. With this bloody cat who I've fallen completely in love with.

“Norris.” I hear her whisper.

“Yes, love?” I let it slip by accident.

“Juna peed on the couch.” she pats the bed, “Come on.”

I thank god because my back would be fucked if I slept on the floor and my trainer would not be happy. I switch the lights off and climb in next to her, Juna in between us.

“Night, love.” She whispers before promptly falling asleep.

____

OLIVIA WREN

I wake up to an arm around me and a man standing above me. I scream.

“Fuck!” Lando pulls his arm away immediately, opening his eyes quickly and looking at the man in screaming at, “Max!” he groans, “You didn’t have to scare her!”

“Sorry.” He crosses his arms, “I’m Max.”

“Hi?” I try to slow my heart rate, “God! You scared me!” I look back up at him, Lando mentioned the childhood friend but I didn’t think I’d meet him so soon.

“Sorry again. Lando scared me first! Bloke can’t figure out how to use his phone!” Max throws his phone at Lando who dodges it. I’m still trying to recall why I'm here and what is happening.

Juna reminds me when she trots over and plants herself on my lap. “I thought you’d been killed or something!” Max yells at Lando whose face is still in the pillow.

I’m suddenly very self conscious about being in this bed. Max seems to notice and shakes his head, “Well now that I know you’re alive… Plane takes off in an hour.”

____

He’s packed in fifteen minutes. Why couldn’t he be a slower packer?

We’re quiet up until the elevator exit, “Juna is still half mine.” He says suddenly, the blue skies coming into view as we walk outside.

“Okay?”

“So don’t forget me, or anything.” He says, looking away from me.

The corner of my mouth lifts, “No chance.” Putting his bags down, he slides my phone out of my pocket and into his hand.

“My number.” He says before handing me my phone back, “Use it all you want.”

“Oh I should be so greatful.” I say it sarcastically but honestly, I am.

He nods, a small smile still gracing his face, “Be safe, alright? Don’t go home with any more strangers.”

My grip on Juna’s carrier tightens, “We’ll see.”

He says goodbye to Juna, sticking his finger through the wire and petting her. He stands up straight, taking his things as the valet brings his car.

“Good luck.” I say quickly, he looks almost surprised. “In your race. Maybe I’ll watch.”

His surprise turns into kindness, leaning down a bit, he places his lips softly on my cheek, “Don’t scream my name too loud, love.”

I blush as he steps back, I wave. He gets into his car and looks back through the slight tint, smiling.

note : should i do a pt.3??

[shelovesaesthetics]

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ₁

𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

ted logan —

type of guy:

sweet lovey-dovey dork, this himbo will be all over the place

as soon as bill mentions valentines day, all the hairs on his body just stand

the thought of him being so lovey cringes him out but he's just can't remove the obsession with you.

he's so tooth-rottenly cute, when you're around him, he just don't know what to do with himself. you approaching him is like him seeing an alien. either runs away or just freezes and breaks a sweat when you talk to him.

you’re his brainrot and ted's just sadistically a victim to it, completely wrapped around your fingers

musters up the courage and makes it his objective to make the most excellent v-day ever

creating planning boards in his room, preparation talks with Bill, lowkey stalking you at school

saves up every penny in his piggy bank, not wasting a single dollar

reads up on things on what girls would like

love language is quality time and words of affirmation

valentines plans:

excellent adventure ted— you first spend the day on an afternoon at an arcade; you and ted wearing casual formal outfits (ted in his tuxedo and converses, you in a dress and sneakers), playing on all of the arcade machines, giggling, screaming and laughing and goofing around.

he then takes you to his favourite spot by the Circle K, chilling down on the pavement. playing some UNO/tells you his wild adventure stories/jamming out to punk & pop rock on his speaker, sitting and eating slushies and a hot dog

OR

after the arcade, he takes you to a diner, ordering a classic American meal (two burgers, fries, onion rings, two milkshakes with the extra cream & a cherry-on-top)

finishes the date with a trip back to Bill's, awaiting a heartwarming surprise (aka the anticipated secret)

he cutely takes your hand and sits you down on a chair, closing your eyes whilst you wait. 5 minutes later, you take them off at his command, waterworks immediately start to run as you look at the sight infront of you.

ted, with his guitar, announces his special song for you.

hands begin to strum on the guitar, puppy loving eyes gazing into yours, heartfully. ted serenades you with a sweet melody, accompanied by his surprisingly sweet voice

in the garage that's decorated in cutesy heart decor; red and pink balloons and banners all over the place, you feel as if you're in a safe haven, enchanted away here by your adorable, innocent boyfriend

mid performance, ted brings you up to the stage, twirling you around and then dancing with you. his big BFG self towers over you, slowly rocks your body and embraces you tight with his bulky arms. leaning in his head, ted finally caresses your face and kisses you— signing off the most excellent Valentines day ever. . .

bogus journey ted— either takes you to the movies or rents a movie at the local blockbuster, so he can watch with you in his apartment

for the outing, he takes you to the movies to watch a cheap chick flick he thinks you'd like; popcorn, nachos and a big shake

at home, he puts on a sci-fi movie, both stuffing down on a large pepperoni pizza, watching contently

afterwards, you kick back and relax for a long smoke sesh, getting high on some good weed whilst he puts an arm around you, nestling and cuddling with you close

he'll definitely brings out a guitar and sing to you, smoking a spliff that still rests between his lips (typical lightskin moment)

one way or another in ol' netflix and chill fashion, the night ends with ted loving on your body— giving you the most ultimate rocker boy finale his bodacious girl needs . . .

face the music ted— buys two VIP tickets, for the both of you, to a summer rock festival across state; booking an all-inclusive hotel nearby so you and him can rest in with convenience (away from the kids)

packs all the necessities— snacks, water, a pack of beer, foldable chairs, portable fans, sunscreen, a pair of sunglasses, and a charging bank

you both get to the airport, getting on a plane and travelling off into the concert place

arriving at the hotel; you unlock and enter your room— spacious king-sized double bed, tv, automated bathroom and a great view outside the window. the hotel has an all-you-can-buffet that you never forget to not miss

following the next day, you dress up for the concert; you wear a house of sunny 'lemons on a plate' dress with yellow sandals, and ted wears a white t shirt and cargo shorts, styling up with sandals and a hat

for the whole three days, you and ted rock out to live iconic rock music. screaming, jumping, and partying; dancing like you never you could

golden retriever ted watches out for you; handing you snacks, cleaning after you, supplying water, emergency hugs, cheering you up

breaks into a chuckle and laughs when he catches your boomer self taking videos and pictures, uploading them onto facebook and instagram ('me and hubby @/tedtheologan rocking out at the _____ festival! party on, dudes ! 😎🤩😀😍😆❤️👩‍❤️‍👨💍⚡️🤘🤙🎫🏴‍☠️🎸❤ #____festival #summer #sunny #fun #mostexcellent #smiley #happy #happyvalentinesday #rockfestival #yolo #youngforever #foreveryoung #tb #throwback #80s #1988 #2024 #thenvsnow #wyldstallyns #mosttriumphant #rockmusic #date #valentines #couple #airguitar #happy36thyearanniversary')

last night of the festival ends with a colourful night show, fireworks lighting up and crackling the night sky. under the bright lights, ted takes your hand and holds them. warm, tall body pressed against yours, he gazes down on you with such love. gently caresses your face, hazel orbs boring into yours, rubbing the small of your back soothingly. he closes in and kisses you on the lips, passionately making out with you

the fireworks continuously keep lighting up in the background, looking like a happy ending straight out of a movie.

type of gifts:

handmade stuff: arts and craft/DIY cards with cute stickers, colourful glitter, ribbons and drawings (imagine him getting glue all over his fingers and hands, big 6'1 self hunched over his little creations uwu)— gifts you a teddy bear and says something along the lines of: "babe, i got you this teddy bear, even though i'm, like, totally your teddy bear... and my name is Ted!", some candies, 'girly stuff' like makeup, "..because you're a babe and all..", a handwritten song personally made for you (with the help of wingman Bill), tulips and roses he got from his England expedition, an antique necklace he got from his Greece expedition, heart-shaped chocolates, some tapes and vinyls of your favourite music

john constantine —

type of guy:

typically indifferent

depressingly and callously cynical

not the one to be celebrating stuff like that, but he'll do what it takes to make you happy

he knows it's still worth it, just as long as it's with you

love language is gift giving and physical touch

valentines plans:

literally remembers ON the day, springing up from bed and bolting outside. goes to like 30 different stores, searching for the best presents he can find

runs back home with last minute stuff before the sunset. doorbell suddenly rings and john opens up, smiling as he sees the love of his life, you all prettied up in a cherry red dress, heels and matte makeup (something is bulging...)

you and john get in the car and he drives you out to a late night dinner, only to be met with disappointment when the restaurant he spoke to earlier informs him that the reservations are all booked up

sighing in devastation, john bows his head and shakes disapprovingly. he looks up to give you a weak smile and rubs your back reassuringly, gesturing you to head back inside the car. the both of you drive back to his, decidedly opting for some Chinese

you both head back to his, decidedly opting on some Chinese

john resumes back to finishing the set up of the living room; red candles and roses on the coffee table

impromptu date begins: candle lit dinner in front of the tv, you both drink some wine and eat some takeout, watching a random movie

finishing up, you doze off asleep, snoring on his lap

john still watches the tv, glancing down on you every 5 minutes. he wraps a warm cloth around you, resting a hand on your back. the urge of him to kiss you is burning him alive but he remains neutral.

he's upset that the day has been ruined, the one thing that he could've gotten right all slipped and fell out of his fingers. his callous self for once actually cares about something, something he originally thought was 'insignificant', something he wished it could've gone more better

even though the day didn't go out as planned, you've insisted that it's not too bad—grateful for the date overall. it's small and disorganised, but as least it's something, , as least it all ended with him

types of gifts:

silver antique jewellery, a card, giant teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and roses

john wick —

type of guy:

DILF, DILF, DILF

valentines day with baba yaga?!

already got the whole day planned and sketched out, back-to-back

john's fat wallet's will treat you well

always 'knows a guy', so you know your ass is about to be showered to filth

the wholesome family man side of him will be coming out, abandoning the stoic, brutally cold assassin behind

no more john wick— now it is jardani jovonovich

love language is gift giving, acts of service and physical touch

valentines plans:

he would start the morning with cooking you a nice sunny side up and toast, a side of maple pancakes and coffee. whilst you eat, he calls up a spa centre and gets you booked in at a lavish clinic, ordering some men to take you there privately. he asks you to call up your friends, inviting them to the spa day as well. gives you his card and some change just in case. once you leave, he cleans up your plate and cleans up the house, decorating and preparing whilst you're gone.

a full day later with hanging out with your girls, you return back home, deeply relaxed from the tantalising spa treatment. opening up, the house is completely dark and quiet, only seeing rose petals leading off to somewhere. walking along the rose covered path, you follow it and halt at the dining room. right there at the table, sits your husband of 5 years, warm smile on his face; white polo shirt and jeans. he gets up to greet you, kissing you on the lips and forehead

john's whipped up a classic candle lit dinner, steak and baked potatoes with a glass of wine. after a nice hearty meal, he takes you upstairs via the rose-petal lane, leading you to the bathroom. you're welcomed to a bubbling hot bathtub; two glasses of champagne, face masks, scented candles, and a charcuterie board sitting on the bath rack. you two hop in and relax in the tub, slippery naked bodies against each other. you watch a drama series on his laptop, silently staring at the screen

one blink later and you're in bed with john. big hands clasping on your small waist, bearded kisses and pecks littering on your stomach, muscular strong body dominating over yours, stocky fingers slipping to unholy places; john ends the day with pleasuring you for the night, showing you what no other man but him can give.

types of gifts:

surprise trips, full package spa treatments, his card for shopping trips, makeup, perfume, high end clothes, expensive wine, a bouquet of flowers, chocolate, a small teddy bear, menstruation stuff (pads, tampons, pills, hot water bottle pouch, snacks, his masseuse expertise, baby— this man loves you), anything you want, name a price, john will be your man

thomas anderson (neo) —

type of guy:

similar to constantine but more open-minded in his indifference

either forgot or is pretty clueless on what to do

casually flips through calender and scares himself shocked as he realise the date is tomorrow

goes on a forum to ask for help: "@/cyberspacecatontheweb: any suggestions for valentines day ?? I (37M) and a girlfriend (34F) are going out on a date and I don't know what to do. sm1 help a guy out thx"

goes on the internet and researches on ideas

eventually gives up and just scraps the ideas, goes with the flow

love language is quality time and physical touch

valentines plans:

thomas wakes up early and gets changed; black shirt and suit on. you arriving to the 101 apartment, he takes you out to a Chinese restaurant downtown. orders quite a lot of food— dumplings, stir fry, sweet and sour chicken, rice, hot pot, and bbq ribs. he pays the bill and you two leave, walking out to window shop.

later in the evening, thomas takes you up to a rooftop, sitting down and watching the city below. he hesitates, but then opts to spontaneously show you 'something cool'. gets out a tech device and presses a button, opening up a cybernetic portal. jumps inside and pulls you with him. you both teleport to a white void, confused and scared as fuck. thomas reassures you and shows you some of his latest tricks like emerging buildings and cities out of nowhere, binary codes that pop up and creates a giant ass dog that almost eats you, floating and flying through a cyberspace wormhole. for the last bit, he gently grabs your hand and shows you the last thing he promised: binary codes formulate and change, syncing up together and creating a love heart. thomas presses another button and the heart opens up, revealing a cybernetically generated portrait of you and him, written underneath 'happy valentines day xoxo'. his hands move to your waist and he slowly kisses you, simultaneously taking you back to the real world.

types of gifts:

digitally-made things: flowers, teddy bear, heart, a picture of you. makes a hologram gadget that does origami, a scented candle he remembers you like, cool tech glasses, paired with some gloves, that's installed with a program that allows you to do things- holographic games and worlds all built into these spectacles (norman jayden from heavy rain reference)

jonathan harker —

type of guy:

mr darcy-coded

valentines day with him would be a fairytale, straight out of a book

sensitive, kind, chivalrous, charming, courteous, and hardworking, your princelike husband who will always know how to woo you to your knees

planned everything in his sanctuary, ready to show you how he can treat you well

love language is gift giving, acts of service and quality time

valentines plans:

you wake up to a traditional english breakfast-in-bed; hot tea, coffee, porridge, bread, and eggs, served by maids. then you're being dressed up for the day, maids helping you out into your modest and elegant attire, fixing your hair, doing your makeup, and dusting you down. jonathan escorts you onto to the carriage, heading off first to a picnic at an expansive, spacious garden. The place is embroidered with pretty plants and flowers, fresh fragrance of pollen filling your nose. you and jonathan settle on the grass, laying a blanket. you enjoy some tea, crumpets, scones, and sandwiches, admiring the floral nature. jonathan dotes you inbetween small talk, complimenting your look frequently. for some short time, you both get up and walk around, appreciating the afternoon. after the picnic, he hires a photographer to have your picture taken. you sit on a chair as jonathan stands behind you, posing for the camera.

shortly comes the evening and it's time for the special occasion. you both get onto the carriage again, heading off to a restaurant. the restaurant is filled to the brim of posh people alike, halls decked with chandeliers and embellished with statues and paintings. the pair of you enjoy the night, relishing and dinning happily. jonathan brings you back home, taking you to the bedroom to surprise you with a bundle of flowers and a toy bear. he kisses you softly and gracefully on the head, reminding you of his love. you both tuck into bed and lay down for the night, sleeping peacefully into each other's arms.

type of gifts:

a basket full of roses, lilies, orchids and carnations. handwritten poem, a card enveloped and stamped with a red heart wax seal, chocolates from romania, dainty jewellery, toy bear, fragrance, a trip to paris, tickets to see an opera and a theatre performance, small trinkets, fruits, and a pocketwatch locket.

kevin lomax —

type of guy:

sugar daddy kevinnnnn

toxic but fine husband

will absolutely spoil you rotten, pampering you like a princess

love language is gift giving, physical touch, and acts of service

valentines plans:

first thing in the morning, breakfast's being sent to you at the penthouse. kevin leaves a note on the nightstand: "hey sweetheart, it's me. how was breakfast? it was good, right? i've called in your boss to let him that you're sick, so no need to go to the office. your whole day will be booked: spa treatment, nails, hair, and a private boutique booked so you can try on some new outfits that you'll be choosing for the evening. make sure you wear that lingerie i got you and don't miss any of those appointments. daddy's gonna have fun with you tonight.

love kevin xoxo"

you do as exactly he says, rushing up & down, excitedly getting changed. a black limo takes you to and back of all destinations, attending all your scheduled appointments. at the boutique, a blonde clerk waits for you, standing by a row of clothing racks with designer clothes hanged and heels below to select from. after carefully selecting, you choose a snug black dress and heels, fully dolled up for the occasion. a makeup artist quickly does your makeup, just in the nick of time kevin arrives, black waist coat and suit & tie. you exit the building to find him standing by the car. his eyes wonder around and check you out, hypnotised by your beauty. linking arm to arm, you two are driven to the wall street restaurant. the place is luxurious; interior design opulent and rich. kevin grabs a seat at the vip section, inviting some of his fellow law firm coworkers along. you cheers to a good night and dig in to the fine dining, enjoying the night. almost midnight, you and kevin return back home, immediately jumping into the jacuzzi.

you strip out of your clothes and wear the cute swim piece that kevin's bought for you— a black skimpy bikini that hugs all of your curves and cleavage. you sit back and relax with your man, peacefully sipping some champagne and enjoying each other's company. many drinks and pillowtalks later, the night ends with what you exactly expects: sounds of skin slapping and bed shaking; your moans echo throughout the bedroom. kevin's tall body thrusts repeatedly into you, grunting and groaning as he fucks you. lasting with the real pillow princess treatment, kevin worships your body and makes love to you, showing you who you really belong to. . .

types of gifts:

expensive makeup, luxury trips abroad, designer outfits, exclusive spa treatments, sexy lingerie, his black card for those shopping trips, perfume, deluxe jewellery and accessories, a bouquet of roses tied in a bow, heart-box of chocolates, expensive wine and champagne, adult toys (wink wink), a white teddy bear, polaroid photos of you and him

[tanuki-voice]

Your body ballooned when you gave in to eating junk. There was nothing like the feeling of being stuffed, feeling the sugars and saturated fats crawling through your veins. You loved it, were given over to it, totally addicted. In the end, the thing that broke down your inhibitions wasn't their relentless advertising, or even the clever marketing. It was the coupons.

It began simply: you would come home from work tired and hungry, and order fast food. To expedite the process, you'd downloaded all the value apps for the places in your area. The promises of free stuff and quicker ordering was too good to pass up. However, you'd forgotten to turn off notifications.

Every so often, your phone would ding with a new deal, a temptation, a siren's call to get you to order in exchange for deep discounts. In the beginning, these were free fries, an upgrade to a larger soda, a cheaper sandwich. All the same, on those late nights, it sounded good. Why not treat yourself once in a while?

Of course, soon, "once in a while" turned into "every few days", then "every other day", until you found yourself becoming slowly dependent on the offers, a bit of elation from every little perk. The more you ordered, the more their algorithm could read you, serving you exactly what you desired, calling you each day at the proper time. As if trained, you would feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and your mouth would begin to water. It was time to order.

The algorithm, of course, was not entirely in tune with your identity. It was a being designed to generate profit. By ordering so much, so often, you had managed to convince it you were a large household, and it reacted accordingly. The deals changed to suit this belief, family size meals, multi-packs, pastries by the dozen. You ordered them all, gorging yourself without end to fuel your ravenous appetite.

What began as a dinner routine extended to other meals, and soon after that you'd even find yourself going through the drive-thru for a quick snack between meals. To live in such gluttony, messily pigging out without end, shoveling food into your mouth day after day, brought you such pleasure. You found yourself going back, again and again, every day, consumed by the desire for more. Tonight was no different.

Reclined into your sofa, you awoke from a potent carb nap. Your lunch, two large pizzas, half a dozen donuts, an order of chicken wings, and a 40oz soda, had truly taken it out of you. Your enormous belly strained your comfy pajama pants, barely covered by an extra large t-shirt. Your hands comfortably rested on its pillowy softness. Through the mountains of squishy fat, you felt it rumble. It was time for dinner. And right on schedule, your phone buzzed.

With potent glee you snatched it up. Today, if you ordered in the next hour, you could get a meal for four, burgers, onion rings and milkshakes. The kicker: order now and get two more burgers free. Your payment details had never danced across the screen faster, and thirty minutes later three greasy bags full of food were dropped off judgement-free at your door.

You brought them back to the sofa and began to chow down. It had become tradition for you to eat without a shirt on by now; your meals had long since become too indecent to go without dirtying your clothes. Your tummy bared to the world, you picked up a burger in one hand and a fistful of onion rings in the other, and devoured. Like an animal you ate primally, as if starved, not knowing when your next meal may come. There was no one to tell you you couldn't, only you demanding that you would. Each mouthful was calorie rich, and each was washed down with more food, more milkshake, more trash.

You spared one of your grease covered hands to rub your stretch mark covered stomach. As you teased gassy burps and wind breaks from your middle, it growled, pleased, yet still expectant. Rarely was it ever satisfied. No matter how much you stuffed into it, it wanted more. It commanded you to fill yourself, to bring yourself to the brink, feeling as if you would pop. Your appetite controlled you, but under its warm, pleasant, hazy influence, you were happy to be its willing pawn.

The joy of feeding took priority over anything else. You felt like you could eat forever. Your body would adapt to the gluttonous demon you had become, one whose mind lived in its stomach. To eat was so simple, so thoughtless, mindless. You just let your belly think for you as you ordered, and let it bring you to pleasurable, mind-clearing bliss. Your body, particularly your ample midsection, was a temple, a testament to the food gods you worshipped. You loved to see it grow, to see it flow over you, to see it bulge, swell and fill your chairs and mattresses.

A loud belch stirred you from your enraptured state for just a moment to see that you'd gone through a majority of your offerings. There was a slight sting as you realized your feeding was nearing its end. Suddenly, without thinking, your hand reached for your phone again. Your stomach rumbled. It wouldn't be satisfied with just this, but would you really go over that line? Ordering even more, without thinking? Was this who you had become?

A notification dinged. If you ordered in the next thirty minutes, you could get a dozen eclairs for half price. Your bloated belly purred. Maybe it was who you'd become, and maybe you weren't ashamed of it. You had been, at one point, but that reluctance had faded. This was who you were, an insatiably hungry animal given over to your muses, and you loved every second of it. Dessert wouldn't hurt. And perhaps, maybe, even a little after that. You smiled and confirmed your delivery. You had a long, gluttonous night ahead of you, and you were raring to get started.

[pikablu410]

His Mayoral Duties

“Mayor Bradley! How do you feel now that you’ve just won a second term in office with a surprise landslide victory?!” A man with a microphone asked.

“I’m honored the people of Stocksville have chosen me to lead them again. I’m excited to get back in my office and make changes for the better.” The man confidently said, adjusting his casual yet sleek blue suit. He combed over his curls with his hand to make sure they weren’t frizzled.

“Mayor! To what do you contribute to such a meaningful success?” A blonde woman in a red suit nearly jumped out of the crowd. She, of course, was talking about how a black man, like himself, was the first to win a reelection as mayor in Stocksville.

“I think my policies speak for themselves. Our economy is doing better, crime is at an all time low and people are content with their lives in the city.” The mayor confidently responded.

“And mayor, what do you have to say to those who believe your victory was the result of fraud?” A man asked before being pushed back into the crowd.

If the people had known him personally, or had studied his body language, they would’ve known Scott staggered for a brief moment before responding. “I ask that they wait for the voting office to put out their data, and, for now, work with me in making progress towards a better Stocksville.” He smiled.

“How could they have known?! I was completely certain it would be a secret-” A man with shaggy brown hair walked back and forth before being interrupted by Scott.

“Just shut up! I know my office isn’t rigged with cameras or mics I’m not aware of. There’s no way it could’ve gotten out.” He said, leaning forward onto his desk. 

“Then how would they have known we used dark ma-” Scott almost literally zipped the man’s lips this time.

“Roger. There is absolutely, assuredly, zero reason for people to believe we did anything suspicious other than their own conspiratorial beliefs. We have done nothing wrong, and there’s no proof otherwise.”

Roger wiped the sweat from his neck, “Well…”

Scott glared, “Roger.”

“I’m not saying I kept the book, but-”

“Roger!” Scott growled. A rarity for him.

“What if I need a demon for a hot chick or something? You never know.” Roger, now much more casually, admitted.

“If by ‘demon’ you mean ‘advice’ then sure, but you definitely don’t mean what you said literally, right?” Scott said, with a thick emphasis on the sarcasm.

“Relax Brandon, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure there’s no negative side effects.” Roger started, “You did do what the de- what the advice told you to do, right?”

Brandon sighed, pulling out the greasy takeout bag, “Yeah, I bought a burger after I won. I really don’t get how this was equivalent to whatever that…advice did.” 

He took a large bite out of the burger, finding the taste divine. Scott quickly took another, and then a sip of his soda.

“Woah, slow down their champ. Just because you won doesn’t mean you can’t get sick from eating like that.” Roger advised, but it seemed Brandon wasn’t listening.

“Mmph, sorry,” Scott swallowed the last of his burger, “I don’t know why, but that was the best burger I’ve ever had from McTasties.” Finishing his soda and the fries, Scott went on, “I think I’m gonna get another. They must’ve changed their recipe or something!” 

Roger noticed how Scott wiped the grease onto his blue suit, which, thanks to the dark color, didn’t detract much from it. However, he thought back to how Brandon got pissed off when he spilled water onto a similar suit. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna head home. Call me if you need anything not politics related.” Roger said, the drawstrings of his green and gray hoodie flipping through the air. 

Despite his calm demeanor, Roger was still thinking about his friend’s behavior. Just what was it that they had summoned the night before?

“Destiny! Two more orders of McTasties double cheeseburgers. One with fries and one with onion rings. Of course I want two milkshakes!” Scott said over his newly installed desk microphone. He had gotten tired of constantly walking down to ask her to order him more food. 

“Right away Mayor Bradley. Oh, city council wanted me to notify you that they’re meeting for ordinance 5507 in 10 minutes.” Destiny replied.

Scott smiled and thanked Destiny. He slowly sat up from his chair and walked over to his mirror. His stomach bulged against the white undershirt and blue suit he adorned. A ketchup stain marked the white and a grease one the blue suit. It had been a stressful…2 weeks in office. Scott hadn’t taken the time to think about how he had gained weight so quickly, or how fast time had gone by. 

Regardless, Scott decided to head down to the council room and wait for his colleagues there. 

Opening his doors, he found an unwanted surprise.

“Scott! I really need to talk to you ri-” Roger nearly shouted.

“Can it wait? I have McTasties and a council meeting waiting for me downstairs?” Scott replied, rolling his eyes.

“I really don’t think you should. I’m not sure how much longer you have?” Roger panicked, welcoming himself into Scott’s office.

Raising an eyebrow, Scott now fully entered the conversation, “What, do I have a disease or something?” “You might as well! You know that ‘advice’ we summoned the other night?” Roger asked, using his hands to sign quotation marks in the air, “Well, apparently that deal was just its way to get ahold of you.”

“Wait, you mean I’m possessed?” Scott scoffed at his own words.

“Basically! It’s like an infection,” Roger opened the book Scott had berated him for 2 weeks ago, “The longer you don’t treat it, the more it affects you. This weight you’ve gained isn’t natural.” Roger poked Scott’s belly to emphasize his point, Scott smacking his friend’s hand away.

“So what, I've gained a few pounds. I’ve been stressed and cooped up in this office, I’ll be fine.” Scott said, stifling a belch.

Roger looked at his friend with glazed eyes, “You’ve barely done anything but eat McTasties and watched how the media is praising your election.”

Scott didn’t want to admit it, but as he looked at the greasy takeout wrappers on the floor, Roger was right. He hadn’t done much other than eat and pass a few laws that were already in the works before he was elected. But then, a lightbulb.

Well, a buzz on his desk microphone.

“Mayor Bradley. City council is meeting in 5 minutes now. Also, your McTasties is here.” Destiny rang.

Now with a smug look, Scott smiled at Roger, “I’m actually in the process of passing a new city ordinance right now. And you’re making me late. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Scott then headed down the hall and towards the city council. Roger looked at the book and sighed. At least this wasn’t going to ruin his life. He hoped.

Entering the city council meeting room with his two bags of McTasties, Scott settled in before the last of the council members arrived. Immediately digging into one of the cheeseburgers and fries, the other city council members stared in shock. 

“Uhm, Mayor Bradley. Mayor Bradley!” An older council member nearly shouted.

“Hmm? What is it?” Scott replied, licking ketchup off of his fingers.

“We’re starting our meeting…is it truly necessary for you to eat your lunch during our meeting?” The older man inquired.

“Oh, I’m almost done with it,” Scott casually replied, sucking down his milkshake, making a loud slurping sound in the process, “You all should try it sometime. Now, where were we?” 

The following months saw historic change for Stocksville. Probably in the most insipid way possible. Ordinance 5507 gave more freedom to “inexpensive food companies” that was cited to help “impoverish citizens attain a more consummate meal.” 

In reality, Scott just wanted more McTasties near city hall and his house, both of which now had 2 within a block. 

Not that Scott walked to the fast food restaurant, but it certainly alleviated the weight on his employees. Though, it didn’t relieve weight in other areas. Within those months, the Bradley office staff had all put on at least 70 pounds of fat. Dozens upon dozens of McTasties orders came to the office each day, a majority of them coming from Scott himself. 

Speaking of the mayor, he had gone up 3 suit sizes in the several months following ordinance 5507, which of course was followed by ordinance 5508, 5509 and 5512. All of which gave the McTasties company more power in Stocksville. 

None of this caused the Bradley office any concern because, like Scott, they had all become addicted to the greasy junk. Seemingly overnight, the town had transformed into some Las Vegas for greasy restaurants. A competitor, Patty’s Burgers, was on the rise and produced even more restaurants for Scott- for the Stocksville citizens to order from. 

Though, not all hope was lost for the town.

“Scooooooottttt!” A man with shaggy brown hair shouted down the hall. The guards were too fat and lazy to stop him from bursting into Scott’s office. “Scott, I’ve found out how to solve this- what the hell happened to you?!” 

The mayor’s first response with a burp, followed by him trying to sit upright in his chair.

“Do you mind, URP, Roger? I’m trying to eat my pre-lunch snack?” Scott replied, taking a chomping bite out of a burger that looked much too large for human consumption. 3 more bags were filled with food next to him on the desk, Roger being able to tell they were filled because he couldn’t take a step in the office without his legs brushing up against an empty one.

“How fucking fat have you gotten? Do you realize what this is all from? That “advice?”” Roger, again, emphasized the word advice.

Scott slurped down a soda before literally dumping a carton of fries into his gaping maw. “What, the fucking demon? Yeah, whatever. Like anyone believes that shit.” He let out a very noticeable fart before going back to chowing down on a burger.

Roger noticed his friend’s new dialect. “Dude, since when did you swear? I thought you had to uphold an image or something.” 

“Yeah, what-fucking-ever. People are so happy with all the McTasties, and now Patty’s! Who cares if I fucking swear!” Scott said with a little too much enthusiasm, finding himself wedged between his office chair, “Damn, this thing is getting old.” “Uhh, yeah. Anyways, I’ve figured out how to stop all this and get back to normal. All you have to do is eat some vegetables and fruit, lose a bit of weight and the possession should slowly go away. If that doesn’t work we’ll need a priest and-” “Bro, you’re actually still on this possession thing? I told you, I’m in complete control.” Scott said, taking a final bite out of his burger. 

Then, a squeak was heard, followed by a snap and then Scott falling to the ground. Rips could be heard behind the desk as the mayor sat behind his desk.

“Fuck…that actually felt kinda good.” Scott mumbled to himself.

Roger, however, was much more worried, “Dude! Are you alright?!” He went behind Scott’s desk to help his friend up.

He immediately noticed that one of the buttons on his suit had burst off from the fall, leaving a portion of Scott’s belly wide open to the public. As he helped heft his friend up, Roger noticed that Scott’s pants were now torn at his thighs, exposing a significant amount of cellulite. After helping Scott up, the fat man waddled to the mirror in his office. 

“Damn, I don’t look too bad.” Scott admired himself. Roger hadn’t taken the time to notice in his rush to save his friend, but as his friend looked on in the mirror, he really saw how far Scott’s appearance had fallen. The once well-shaved man now had a scruff that was forming a goatee, and the same furry situation could be said for his now-exposed belly. His suit was tattered with stains, and had torn in places Scott hadn’t even noticed. 

“Scott I really think you should reconsider-”

“Roger, my time in office has been incredibly successful. Employment is at an all time low. People who were starving in the streets now have homes and food! Public transportation goes all over the city and our economy is thriving and healthy. All because I’ve invested in McTasties and fast food restaurants.” Scott went on, looking over the city, then back at Roger, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your extra weight too.” He poked Roger in his belly, to which the pale man sheepishly backed off.

“Just listen to me dude, I think something is really wrong. I mean, how did you even convince the city council to get all of this done? Aren’t they notorious for stopping all your ideas?” Roger asked.

Scott smiled devilishly, braggin, “They attributed it to my “charisma.” They’ve really fallen for me.” He walked over to Roger and put his arm around his friend, “Look me in the eyes when I tell you this, Roger.”

Listening to his friend, Roger looked into Scott's eyes, but they weren’t Scott’s. They glowed a deep red, and were almost…hypnotizing.

“Go get yourself some McTasties on your way home. Tell them it’s on me, they’ll cover it.” Scott ordered, very persuasively. 

Roger couldn’t help but slowly nod his head and turn around to leave Scott’s office. He could really go for a McTasties burger.

The next month saw Mayor Bradley’s only roadblock in his reign of ordinances. A group called “Alternatives for Health” rose to political distinction as a, you guessed it, alternative to Scott’s campaign. Not that there would be an election any time soon, but they aimed to rally support against all of the fast food-centric regulations that had recently been put in place. Lobbying Scott’s office near daily, they would’ve annoyed the hell out of any other group in office.

But, by this point, Scott’s staff had grown too fat and tired to care. 

“URRRRRP, Desti-URRRRRRP. Destiny, where’s m’ damn order of fries?” A sweaty, double-chinned, bearded face mumbled over the desk microphone. When there wasn’t a response in 5 seconds, he repeated himself. “Destiny! URRRRRP, I need m’ afta’noon snack!” 

“It’s, URP, on its way now. Sorry, thought it was for me.” A voice that was distinctly deeper than it was 4 months ago replied. 

Just then, several bags of greasy food then came elevated up through a small nightstand-like desk. Grumbling as he slowly stood up from a wider chair, the fat mayor waddled to the bags of food. Not bothering to waddle back to his desk, he plopped his fat ass down on the ground and started devouring the food. 

“God…this ain’t gonna be enough…it’s sho good…gonna need more…” Scott trailed off, plowing through the food like he had the littered takeout bags in his office. Sweat poured down his barely clothed body, pooling into the rolls that were made from hours of eating. A white wifebeater and black basketball pants were what Scott adorned, since nothing else fit and he had to keep up “public decency,” whatever the hell that was.

A voice annoyingly came through his microphone desk.

“Mayor you, URRRRRP, have a visitor.” Destiny rang.

Grumbling again, the mayor heaved his beanbag-esq belly off the ground and waddled back to his oversized chair.

“Send ‘em up!” Scott said, farting as he settled back into his chair. Just moving across the room had gotten him drench in his own salty perspiration. He rubbed his hairy, sweaty belly to coax out more gas before his visitor arrived. Though, he figured he already knew who it was.

“URRRP, Scott, I got more sco-URRRRRP-op on that health group.” Roger barged in. The trip to McTasties a month ago had treated Roger well. Some might’ve said a little too well. But Scott said it hadn’t treated him well enough, and sent his friend back for more.

“Good man! Whadda they want? URRRRRRP” Scott belched out, not bothering to stop eating. 

Pulling out a bunch of graphs and research papers, Roger messily placed them all over Scott’s desk.

“So basically, URRRRP, ‘scuse me. Basically they’re tryna’ prove that bein’ fat is bad. Apparently it raises your chance for “heart disease” and “cholesterol related illnesses” but I haven’t heard of anyone hospitalized for those things recently.” Roger explained.

Scott’s brain was still trying to process the papers in front of him. Months ago these would’ve made sense, but for some reason he could barely comprehend the words. Words like ‘arthritis,’ ‘artery,’ and ‘high fructose’ were hard to read. Almost like he was realizing his descent into slobdom, Scott almost put the pieces together.

That was, until Roger shoved the straw to a milkshake in his mouth.

“Ya looked starved. Thank god I brought more McTasties.” Roger said, with Scott eagerly reaching for the bags with his sausage arms. 

Roger rubbed his own exposed, pale belly that pushed out underneath his green hoodie. Surprisingly, the same hoodie from 4 months ago still fit the growing lard boy, but he was too addicted to the junk most of Stocksville ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner to be bothered to notice.

“So,” Scott pause for a monumental fart, “Heh, that was a nice one. Anyways, what’re we talkin’ about?” 

“This, uh, health group.” Roger explained.

“Oh yeah, how do we get rid of them? They’re gettin’ in the way of me buildin’ more McTasties.” Scott shoveled another handful of onion rings into his mouth. Roger couldn’t even tell what was grease and what was sweat on the man’s face.

“Jus’...lemme handle it.” Roger smiled, with Scott appreciating the simple reply. “How’s the move goin’?” 

Processing the question, Scott remembered he had ordered the leanest of his staff to move his home necessities to his office. 

“Awesome dude! I got a TV and internet, so I’m basically set. All I need is a personal McTasties and I’d never have to leave.” Scott replied, his rolls and moob jiggling as he went to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

“Sounds like the next ordinance at city council.” Roger smirked.

Scott belched and threw an empty milkshake cup into the trash pile that littered the room. “Oh, I disbanded that. They all got too lazy to come. So now they put their trust in me to make the laws.”

Roger’s eyes perked up at those words. “You’re just telling me now?!” Scott let out more gas and continued to eat, “Sorry, forgot I guess.” 

Roger went over to Scott and leaned against his a fat roll.

“My friend, it’s a good thing you’ve started moving; I don’t think you’ll be leaving your office for a while.”

“Whaddare they sayin’? M’ fuckin’ tits r’ blockin’ m’ vision.” A fat blob of a man whined. 

“Hold on Scott I gotta turn up the volume.” A less fat, but still incredibly massive, man replied. The less fat man placed a milkshake in between the blobbish man’s moobs, with the latter eagerly sucking down the contents of the cup.

“Roge-URRRRRRRRRRRP. Whaddare they sayin’ damnit!” Scott whined again, finishing the milkshake in record time. 

Roger smirked and smacked Scott’s immense belly, “You’ve got no opposition m’ friend. You’re running unopposed next election.” 

The wide man forgot to mention how he had gotten a few of the skinnier interns to infiltrate Alternatives for Health’s own office and sneak McTasties into their diet. A combination of this and tactically cutting off their funding so fast food was all they could afford spiraled to a quick downfall of their opposing organization. Scott let out a fart from the pressure on his belly, smiling nonetheless. “Thas…URRRRRRPP…fuckin’ awesome.” He unabashedly stated. 

“Still it’ll be Stocksville’s first mayor who’s a human blob. And I don’t think it’ll be the last.” Roger stated, planting a kiss on Scott’s greasy lips.

Scott let out more gas, drool and more greasy getting into his beard, “Huh? Did ‘m new order come yet?” Scott had gotten a one-track mind. Which might have been a good thing had he not been corrupted with greasy takeout. The naked blob of a man now never left his office. Not that he could, given his recent immobility in the past month. His thighs were as thick as a hog plumped for a Christmas dinner, leading to an ass that was as large as his belly just months ago. Whenever the man moved, either to let out gas, to try to see the TV, or, recently, to pleasure himself, his entire body jiggled as if shockwaves were sent through him.

Arms hung uselessly at his sides, sitting on rolls upon rolls of fat. His face was basically just his unkept goatee, his several chins, greasy, and sweat. Oh christ the sweat. It was as if Scott had constantly come back from a workout at the gym, but his workout was simply processing thoughts and eating his McTasties meals. It got tangled in his hairy body and made the entire office smell like a sports locker room.

“Scott, ‘m back with your pre-pre-brunch snack!” Roger reassured the massive man. 

Roger hadn’t faired much better after being ‘convinced’ by Scott to try McTasties. He was also shirtless, but wore underwear that had definitely seen better days. Just their yellow coloring and greasy stains were enough to paint a detailed picture. His gut rested over these underwear, looking like a dad who had recently gotten divorced and hit the liquor store too much, though with a more jiggly belly. He looked like Scott did just months ago, which didn’t bode well for his future. “Anything I can get for ya while I’m up babe?” Roger asked, opening his phone to see the news about Alternatives for Health.” The two had started dating because of what Scott again contributed to his “charisma.” They were basically inseparable now, Roger serving at Scott’s beck and call.

“Actually, fuck, yeah.” Scott said through mouthfuls of food, “Call in ‘n intern an’ suck me off.” Giving a knowing smile, Roger leaned against his massive boyfriend’s belly. He slowly got on his belly and crawled under Scott’s massive belly. They had done this enough times that Roger knew where to go in the sweaty expanse.

As an intern walked in and started to feed Scott, the immense man started to let out some affirming swears. Roger knew he found his goal.

“URP, Mayor Bradley, what will you do to, uh, ya know, make sure our city stays great?” An interviewer asks over a video call.

“I’ll, uhm, URRRRRRRRP, uh, yeah.” Scott replied.

They were all too fat to do professional interviews in-person anymore. Not that it mattered. They only had one choice anyways. Thank god they weren’t doing this in-person anyways. Scott barely fit in frame on the Zoom call. He barely fit in his office anymore. An amalgamation of sweaty, hairy fat. 

“Great response, babe.” Roger egged his boyfriend on. He was nearing immobility too, struggling to get up and feed Scott nowadays. The interns took care of that for them.

The interviewer, clearly struggling to paint Mayor Bradley in a good light, asked another question. “To what do you contribute your, URRRRRP, successes.”

Scott nearly went cross-eyed. He let out a far that was audible on camera before responding. “More, URRRRRRRRRP, McTasties. Thas what’ll do!” He slurred.

The interviewer smiled and said, “Excellent idea!” 

“They should, PFFFFFFFFFTTTTT, vote fa’ me jus’ ‘cus ‘m hot.” Scott gobbled down multiple burgers after the interview. Grease splattered all over him, and the walls. And his rolls. And his tits.

“That’s a gr-URRRRRRRRRRP-great idea babe!” Roger continued to egg on the massive man. 

It was a wonder nobody realized how their demon, oh sorry, ‘advice’, had caused all of this. Roger didn’t do a very good job at hiding the evidence once he got a bite of McTasties.

If anyone had the brains to realize what was going on, they’d know their mayor hadn’t any.

That was okay, though. A quick bite of McTasties would fix their worries. Thank god they were expanding to other cities nearby.

[hotluncheddie]

Day 6: Bondage

"Like it"

Ao3

wc: 2k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, rimming, pleasure dom Steve Harrington, chubby Eddie Munson, feederism kinks, public foreplay, humiliation kink

written for @subeddieweek <3

💝💝💝💝💝

‘Ugh’ Eddie groans, rubbing his stomach as much as he can with his wrists tied. 

Sleepy and satiated, he’s bound together with his own bandana.

Steve’s eyes had been gleeful as he did it, as if he’d just come up with the idea, and thought it was his best one yet. Eddie had gulped, presenting his wrists and squirming as the fabric wrapped around him. 

But he was used to it now. Forearms managing to massage the new chub at his stomach, doughy and close to kissing his thicker thighs. His body showing all the signs of their new relationship. Something passing between them after the upside down. Once they were safe and comfortable they just seemed to melt together. Showing each other the freedom to explore things they never thought possible. 

Eddie was allowed, for the first time in his life, to indulge. 

He let go in ways he never dreamed possible; because he’d never had the means, or was too afraid, or both. 

And Steve, Steve’s always wanted to give. He’d give so much that it scares people away. Eddie knows now, that Steve wants to give everything and it’s okay, okay that Eddie wants it all. 

They’re driving back from the diner two towns over. It has bigger portions and the best burgers around. Eddie ate one loaded with cheese and bacon, with a side of fries. And onion rings. Steve ordering for him, foot brushing Eddie’s shin as he did. Knowing it made Eddie blush, a little embarrassed, to be looked after so openly, to allow Steve that decision. It made Eddie’s mind melt. 

‘Undo your button, I wanna see.’ Steve says, glancing away from the empty road.  Eddie does, a little awkwardly, but sighs with relief once he manages. Fingers soothing the underside of pale stomach that was trapped against the denim. 

But Eddie’s pulled from his petting as the car lurches to the right, Steve turning off. Pulling into a drive through. 

Eddie’s eye go wide and his cheeks go pink realising whoever’s at the widow is going to see his belly peaking out between the flaps of his jeans. Cheeks going pinker realising Steve wants him to eat more. 

‘Steve?’ He asks weakly. 

‘What?’ Steve asks, vaguely, not looking at his face. Instead he, suddenly, he pulls at eddies seatbelt, hard. So it’s tight and sat beneath his belly, constricting and biting. 

Eddie gasps at the feeling, the stiff fabric against his soft middle. 

‘Steve?’ Eddie presses. You can’t see his pants are undone anymore but there’s cool air hitting a now exposed sliver skin as his shirt lifts, jostled by the movement.  

But Steve ignores him. Rolling through to the speaker he orders a milkshake and donut. Doesn’t spare Eddie a glance. Eddie squirms. 

‘Steve.’ He hisses, they’ll be pulling up to the window soon. Eddie tries to shift but the belt stops him. Moving does nothing but shift his shirt until it threatens to expose his bellybutton. ‘Steve please.’ 

Steve stops the car with a jolt, just before they get to the window. ‘Tell me right now, honestly, that you’re not into this.’ He says, eyes locked with Eddie’s. 

Eddies are wide, sticky pleasure churning in his gut. 

He doesn’t say a thing. 

Steves smile blooms again, sunny but sharp. ‘Lift your arms up.’ He says. 

Eddie balks, but does. Feeling hot all over with a blush running down his chest as he lets his bound wrists lay on the top of the headrest. 

‘Good.’ Steve says low, rolling the car forwards. ‘You’re cute when you squirm.. Hi.’ He turns to smile sweetly at the drive-thru worker.

As they wait for her, Steve looks over at Eddie again. Eye roaming the straps across his body, that sit into his flesh. 

Eddie glares at him. 

Steve pouts back. ‘You said I could do whatever I wanted.’ And his voice has that bratty little whine to it that always sends Eddie insane. Steve too juxtaposing, too confusing, too in control of Eddie to be allowed to pout like that.  

Steve knows it too, knows Eddies annoyed, embarrassed flush. He cocks his eyebrow and gives Eddie a wink. 

Eddie bites his lip and looks resolutely out the window, as Steve chats idly with the worker, hands over cash and puts a large, dripping milkshakes in the cup holder. 

Steve messes with putting the donuts in the footwell. But Eddie thought they were done and he makes the mistake of looking over, Steve ducked down, the girl at the window looking right at him. A perfect view of Eddie’s stomach pushing against the belt, pale skin and dark hair. Eddie nudges Steve by his knee, desperate, humiliated. 

Steve sits back normally. ‘Thanks.’ He smiles at the worker again. She smiles back, glancing at Eddie. Eddie shifts, his cock hard and straining in his jeans. 

Steve parks near the exit and gets a donut out of the bag, holding it up to Eddie’s lips. Eddie scowls at it. But Steve just gives him his best puppy dog eyes - the same ones Eddie gives him. ‘Please?’ He teases. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, fighting down his smile ‘Fine.’ And he tries to sound annoyed, opening his mouth and taking a bite, but his voice sounds too breathy, and affected. 

‘We’ve still got about 30 till we’re home okay?’ Steve says softly, feeding Eddie another bite. Eddie nods, cheeks full, the donut’s really good. 

Steve strokes Eddie’s cheek, loosening Eddie’s belt and letting him suck the cream from his thumb. ‘You like this.’ Steve says. 

It’s never a question, just a statement. 

The first time he’d said it, they’d only been together a couple weeks. Eddie still so tentative and fresh faced to any kind of relationship that meant more than a little spit and quick hands. Steve agreeing to keep it between them until he was ready

That day Steve had been getting shit from the kids for baking again, for being completely serious when he mentioned that this recipe was from a high school home ec class. Rightfully unembarrassed as he looked down his nose at Mikes sneer. ‘Everyone has to eat kid.’ He’d said, rolling his eyes and putting the oven mitts away. 

None of the kids had clocked yet what might’ve started him baking more regularly, or that he made sure to always offer Eddie some specifically, always gifting him something sweet to take home. Doting on him more noticeably in these past couple weeks than ever before - even with them around. The only person who did notice the change was Robin. With her sharp eyes and poking smile. But Steve seemed to take any of her looks in his stride, like it was all just normal, could be normal.

But Eddie was basking in it, even as the anxiety of what they might all think still sat heavy in the back of his mind. Steve made it easier, Steve made him feel safe.

And once they’d all gone home, once it was just him and Eddie again, that evening, Steve stepped it up. 

He made Eddie stay sitting on the sofa, told him not to move and straddled Eddies thighs, kissing him breathless. Eddie settling into that feeling that was becoming normal, routine - of letting Steve lead. Breath hitching as Steve laced their fingers together and pushed Eddie’s wandering hands away, told to keep them at his sides. Held and directed so softly that Eddie just sucked on Steve’s bottom lip and let his mind go blank. 

Until Steve pulled away, hand on Eddie chest. Holding him, and offering Eddie a cookie to bite from his own fingers. Hand feeding it to him sweetly. 

Still doting. But now, Steves eyes were dark. 

Eddie couldn’t count how many cookies he’d already had. One of those days where he was insatiable, a bottomless pit, always wanting, and Steve had made so many, no one even noticed. 

Except, maybe Steve noticed. The way he looked at Eddie now, leaning right into his space, cookie held just out of reach. Steve’s other hand slipping up under Eddie’s shirt, big palm swallowing his abdomen, warm and solid and claiming. Steve noticed everything. 

And Eddie just whined, pushing his stomach more into Steve’s hand, letting his lips fall open and eyes go blurry as his pupils bloomed. Steve smiling at him, indulging, feeding Eddie the cookie bite by big bite, slipping his fingers inside for Eddie to suck. 

‘You like this.’ Steve said, then, and Eddie nodded, too afraid to explain that it was everything, all of it, more. 

Eddie liked it. Liked it especially, from Steve. 

‘Oh fuck.’ Eddie moans. 

They’re back at Steve’s house. Eddie laid out on the bed, pillows under his head so he can take periodic sips of the milkshake Steve forced on him. Legs spread wide open and bound with thick ribbon around his shins and thighs, keeping his knees bent. Bandanna still tight around his wrists. Exposed, totally on display. 

Harder than he’s ever been in his life. 

‘Fucking love you like this.’ Steve pants, lips glistening as he sits back on his heels, slapping the inside of Eddie’s thigh, watching it jiggle. ‘You’re so soft now, it’s like eating out a girl.’ And Eddie’s eyes roll in his head, cock dripping onto his stomach. 

Steve dives back down, sucking and licking at Eddie’s hole. Sometimes working his way over Eddie’s balls but never touching his cock for more than a second, never more than to give the length a wet, open mouthed kiss. 

Eddie writhes, the milkshake cold on his tongue, barely able to move he’s so tightly bound, completely at Steve’s mercy. 

‘That’s it, wanna hear you.’ Steve says, palming himself, getting off on Eddie’s whimpers and groans, pushing him until he’s brainless and blissed out. 

Eddie whines, he can barely see he’s so far gone. 

'm- 'm gonna’ Eddie manages, finishing his milkshake and letting it slip from his fingers. Hands going to fist the sheets above him, back arching off the bed. 

‘That’s it baby, cum for me.’ Steve says, muffled, face still buried in Eddies ass. 

Steve reaches an arm around, holding Eddie’s hips down firm. hand coming to stroke his cock once, twice. 

The air punches out of Eddie’s lungs in a long, drawn out moan. Thrusting up against Steve’s strong grip, cum spilling all over his pink flushed skin. 

Steve holds him tighter, hand circling his cock more firmly, base to tip. Fisting him hard and fast. ‘Oh, oh fuck!’ Eddie can’t think, can’t move and can’t breath. Steve slips two fingers in his spit loose hole, thrusting in and up and Eddie wails. 

‘Again. you’re gonna cum for me again.’ Steve insists, voice rough, lips and chin wet with spit. He thrusts harder, pushes in deeper. Eddie feels static in his ears, feels him stomach muscles jump and his thighs clench against the binds. Not given the chance to come down, just taken up, up, higher and higher until he’s falling all over again. Tipping over the edge because of Steve, all for Steve, all over himself.  

‘Fuck, fuck.’ Steve pants, standing and shoving his boxers down, gripping his cock fast and hard. Crowding into Eddie’s space and leaning between his spread thighs to lick at Eddie’s open mouth.

Eddie can’t do anything more than whine and buck sleepily as he feels Steve release all over him. Hot and spent and Eddie licks into Steve’s mouth, tasting himself and groaning as Steve licks back, sharing his air. 

Steve rests their foreheads together, breathing turning normal, and then rises up to pull at Eddie’s wrists - undoing the bandanna. He uses it to wipe away some of the mess across Eddie’s middle. 

tossing it aside, Steves fingers dance over Eddie’s still bound thighs, eyes making their way slowly back up to Eddie face. ‘You liked it?’ Steve asks, smiling down at him, eyes sleepy and relaxes. 

He’s beautiful, Eddie thinks. 

He leans into Steves touch, nodding and diverting Steve’s hands over to his belly, giving his best puppy dog eyes. ‘Like you.’ Eddie pouts and Steve lets Eddie move him, laughing lightly. Hands roaming over his stomach and doughy sides. Petting and rubbing as he undoes the binds around Eddie’s legs, massaging there too. 

Eddie’s eyes slip close sleepily as Steve works and presses kisses all over. Until he reaches Eddie’s neck and face, where Steve feeds his thumb into Eddie’s mouth, watching his eyes flutter back open. ‘My good boy.’ He whispers and Eddie kisses him.  

💝💝💝💝💝

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

[bothsinfulandsweet]

yesterday's punishment🐖

after my last stuffed i decided to take a day off, specially since most of my feeders didn't seem to be around, so i skipped lunch and dinner.

bith my king and my master were very mad at me for that and mademme eat a lot to compensate. lunch was 4 large bacon swiss burgers and an oreo shake.

it went down easy since i was starving from the day before so i was ordered to have 2 boxes of mac n cheese on top. it was really hard and i fell into a food coma before i could finish but i did it eventually.

then dinner was burguers ans milkshakes (again. ive eaten more burgers ans milkshakes in the past weeks than ever before in my life)

2 quarter pound double cheeseburgers, loaded chili cheese fries, onion rings, 10 little cinnamon pastry dessert things and 3 milkshakes. one i had to wake up at 2am to chug (plus a stick of melted butter courtesy of @bigger-rounder-better)

it was really hard to finish and my belly hurt soooo good

and even after that i had to go and eat a huge protein cookie and get on all fours for my feeder🐽🐖💕

went to bed incredibly full, heavy, and humiliated like im supposed to💞 knowing that i was going to swell up with fat from it and had to eat a lot again today

[bombshelllblonde]

rdr2 modern au head canons - restaurant edition

dutch owns a diner. it’s one of those stereotypical diners that sells hamburgers and hot dogs and turkey clubs and milkshakes. it’s called Tahiti Dine In. they have a mango milkshake that is super popular

john is the bus boy. no if ands or buts about it. he is allowed to collect dishes and wash them, and that’s it. he keeps asking dutch if he could at least be a waiter. the answer is no. he’s not allowed to talk to customers

hosea takes care of the money aspect of the diner. he deals with the suppliers bc when dutch used to do it, they almost lost connections and affiliations due to dutch yelling all the time

arthur and charles are the line cooks. charles takes care of the grill for the burgers and hot dogs, the philly cheesesteaks. arthur works the deep fryer for the fries, onion rings, occasional fried pickles. they have worked together for so long they don’t even need to communicate with each other about things. you might occasionally hear them scream “BEHIND” when they have something hot in their hands and they’re walking by each other

arthur normally doesn’t talk to the customers except for when there’s old ladies around. he calls them “young lady” or “darling”. he gives them free pie because they call him “sugar” and they like to flirt with him

bill has made himself comfortable in a back corner booth. he sits there most of the time. dutch gets mad if he doesn’t buy anything but hosea will just give him a cup of coffee on the house so they don’t have to hear dutch yell

i’m currently watching the bear on hulu and i was inspired. arthur is def a line cook

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 2 - The Pact

Eddie Munson X AFAB! Reader

Chapter warnings: (MDI) 18+ only, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol , adult themes, explicit language.

Edited 02/04/23

************************************************************************

‘I had sex with Eddie Munson, I had sex with my classmate who is also my drug dealer Eddie Munson, I had sex in public with my classmate/drug dealer Eddie Munson, and we’re probably going to do it again… and now we're having milkshakes. Sex and milkshakes.’ 

  Your mind was reeling with repetitive thoughts, the bright fluorescent lighting of the diner only succeeding in throwing your headache into sharper relief; you groaned pressing your fingers to your temples.

"How you feeling champ?" Eddie asks, sitting opposite you in the red vinyl booth, mouth full of a greasy cheeseburger.

"I think I'm gonna puke." You moan, resting your head on your arms. 

He only chuckled, reaching across to ruffle your hair affectionately, you wanted to hit his hand out of the way but you could barely muster a glare.

"You're just coming down from a hefty dose of premium weed and shitty alcohol is all sweetheart, eat something and you'll be right as rain." He said soothingly, offering you his fries with a vigorous shake of the basket. 

“I told you I'm not hungry.” You insisted, stomach churning as you watched him chase a handful of fries with a gulp strawberry milkshake topped with mounds of whipped cream.

“If you don’t eat, then you don’t get a reward.” He said in a sing-song voice.

“What kind of a reward?” You ask, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. He gestures for you to lean closer, looking around conspiratorially, you roll your eyes at the dramatics meeting him in the middle. He was so close you could have counted his eyelashes if you had the time, lips almost brushing yours, you held your breath wondering if he was going to kiss you.

“Well…?” You whispered

“Eat something and you’ll find out, princess.” He winked, dropping back into his seat with a smirk, sliding the basket of fries towards you once more.

“Asshole.” You mumble reproachfully, taking a single fry and barely nibbling the end, nose wrinkling as the salt hit your already dry mouth.

"Dip it in your milkshake." Eddie suggested, pushing your banana shake towards you, amusement dancing in his eyes.. 

"Eddie, the goal is to stop me being sick, not speed things along." You say in disgust.

"Trust me" He insisted firmly.

  With little energy to argue, you dunked the remainder of your fry unceremoniously in the thick creamy liquid, eying the concoction warily. Sucking in a deep breath, you rammed the fry into your mouth, scrunching up your face.

 "Well…?" He asks, laughing at your screwed up expression.

You hated to admit it but it was surprisingly pleasant, the combination of salty and sweet felt refreshing to your alcohol numb taste buds, but best of all the coldness of the shake was mercifully helping to soothe your pounding skull.

"Not bad." You said flippantly, already reaching over to grab the basket of the fries. He scoffed, giving you a look that clearly said 'I told you so' before diving back into his monster burger with gusto. 

It was all oddly domesticated, you thought, any onlooker would be forgiven for thinking you were just another young couple out on a date. But that wasn’t what this was, you and Eddie hadn’t mentioned a thing about dating, and besides you didn’t want to date Eddie, what you wanted was a distraction from Steve you reminded yourself.

You took a few sips of your milkshake, shaking your head as Eddie shoved some onion rings into his already full mouth.

  "So, what did you mean by a pact?" You asked, twirling your straw idly, as Eddie attempted to chew and speak at the same time.

“A pact, you know, a set of rules, an agreement. The whole point of this deal is to get a little bit of fun back in our lives-," He pulled his strawberry milkshake towards him, gulping the last half in one go. "The crushes we have are messy, and the last thing we need is more mess, so the best thing to do is lay out a couple of ground rules."

  "I thought you didn't go in for rules Munson?" You goaded with a smile, lightly kicking his leg under the table. 

"Gotta have some rules sweetheart, otherwise how are you gonna break any." He teased, giving you a kick back. He pulled a bunch of napkins from the dispenser next to him, then started patting down the various pockets of his jacket and jeans, evidently coming up short for whatever it was he wanted. "Hey, you got lipstick or something?" 

You looked at him in confusion, but nevertheless extracted your Revlon lipstick from your skirt pocket. "I don't think-” You checked the name on the sticker, “Misty Plum is your shade, 'Fireball Red' would look great with your colouring though." You quipped.

"Ha, ha. Hand it over." He deadpanned, holding out his hand as you passed it over, your curiosity immediately turning to horror as he flipped the cap off and started scribbling ‘#Rule 1’ on a napkin, his tongue peeking out in apparent concentration.

"Eddie!" You shrieked, making a grab for the lipstick "That shit is expensive!"

"Sweetheart, I will buy you another, now shut up and listen." He held it out of your reach. "This napkin is our contract, doesn't need to be notarized, witnessed or any of that other crap, but these are rules we need to agree on and follow if this is gonna work." He gave you a look reminiscent of your Dad, a look that usually accompanied the words 'is that clear?'

You felt chided, flopping back down into the booth with your arms folded petulantly pouting in a silent protest for your abused cosmetics. 

"Good girl." He cooed condescendingly, so being an adult you stuck your tongue out.

 "Real mature princess." He laughed "So, I'm thinking first and foremost, we agree to have fun, and when it's no longer fun we stop" He asked with the lipstick poised above the napkin.

"I stopped having fun when you mutilated my lipstick." You grumbled.

"Would you get over it already?" He said impatiently.

"No."

"Brat."

"Bully."

"Jesus H Christ!" Eddie huffed loudly in exasperation, hauling himself out of the booth. For a wild moment you thought he was going to just up and leave you, instead he approached a care-worn looking waitress cleaning tables, who handed him something.

"There I have a pen, happy now?" He asked haughtily, dropping back into the booth with a thud. He capped your lipstick, rolling it back towards you none too gently, scrunching up the lipstick covered napkin and grabbing a new one.

"Yes." You replied quietly, pocketing it, not liking the sour atmosphere between you and feeling awkward for causing such a fuss over a $2 lipstick so you added a quick "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He said curtly, before rubbing a hand over his face and changing to a softer tone.

"Look sweetheart, if you've changed your mind and you don't want to do this, it's totally fine, no hard feelings." He reassured you adding in a lower voice as the waitress walked past. "But believe when I say that little rendezvous of ours will be in my spank bank for many months to come." His grin so rakishly cheeky that you couldn't help crack a smile in return.

  You mentally weighed up your options, Eddie was offering you an out, you could chalk the whole thing up to an intoxication induced lack of judgment, never to speak of ever again.

You could go back to losing entire days pining away in your bedroom for Steve; staring at the Polaroid of you both pretending to pose like Han Solo and Princess Leia in front of a Star Wars poster at work.

Wearing his sweater to bed, the one he let you borrow that one evening when you got cold watching Robin play in band, holding it hostage ever since hoping he never asks for it back.

Then there were the 4 hour-long lovelorn calls to Robin, in which you asked her things like 'do you really think Steve liked the perfume I was wearing or if he just said it to be nice'. 

Or, you could bite the Eddie shaped bullet and take the chance that you might be able to squeeze some fun into your otherwise pathetic life. 

You glanced up at Eddie, there was something about him which coaxed out a side of you you wanted to see more of. 

Even now after years of being friends with Steve you often find yourself incapable of holding a real conversation without tripping over basic words, blushing so fiercely he's actually asked you before if you had a fever.  

Around Eddie you were somehow sharper, funnier, probably because you had the added advantage of not being in love with him. It was like split personalities, and apparently the Eddie version of you was a nymphomaniac type of girl who had sex in public, whether that was a good or bad thing remained to be seen, but did it matter when you were having fun?

You had made up your mind.

  "I had a lot of fun tonight, more fun than I have had in a long, long time. And I'd like to continue, having fun." You admit. "If you still want to?" You added wondering if Eddie had maybe changed his mind and was just trying to let you down easy. 

"Wouldn’t be here if I didn't, sweetheart." He assured you, gathering the pen and napkin. “So let’s make this fun official.” Eddie said grinning broadly once again, writing carefully.

#Rule 1 - Have fun, the pact ends when either party is no longer having fun. 

    You picked up your milkshake, squeezing into the booth next to him.

"Anything else?" He asked, leaning back to give you a better look.

There was a definite grey area to the arrangement you were concocting, both of you were doing this as the people you actually wanted to be with were unavailable, this was purely a physical outlet. What if Steve and Nancy did break up, surely Eddie knew you’d want out straight away, same with him if Chrissy and Jason split?

What if you bumped into some Prince Charming on the street, would you feel the need to pass up the opportunity because of Eddie?

"Um, dates with other people? We're allowed to go on them?." You queried, trying to get a feel for how he felt on the subject.

"You mean in the very rare event, we manage to get dates?" His laugh quickly turned into a grunt of pain as you elbowed him in the ribs.

"Alright dates with other people are allowed and don’t affect the pact," he agreed, still rubbing at his side, wincing, "but with one amendment."

  #Rule 2 - Dates are allowed, both parties must tell each other. Don’t get jealous.

"Fair enough." You conceded reading sideways, you picked the bacon out of his forgotten burger whilst he pretended to swat you away like a fly.

“Which neatly brings us to rule number three.” Eddie said, giving you a pointed look as you reach across him to grab his milkshake glass. "Communication."

"You wanna get walkie-talkies or something?" You ask absentmindedly, trying to fish the cocktail cherry out from the bottom of the glass with two straws acting as chopsticks. He watched trying not to crack a smile, when you looked delighted to have finally seized the cherry only for it to plop back to the bottom, your face dropping with it.

"No G.I. Joe.” He said sarcastically, taking one of the straws and stabbing it through the cherry, passing it to you. “I mean we make sure we talk to each other, check in every now and then emotionally to see if we're still happy about the arrangement, going back to rule number one, and rule number two." 

"All this talk about emotions Eddie, I never knew you cared." You drawled, chewing on the cherry, fluttering your eyelashes and making kissy faces at him, squeaking in shock when he grabbed your face kissing you hard.

  You didn’t know what to do as his tongue licked into your mouth, well, your body knew what to do, effectively going limp in his hold; heat rushing to your belly, lips moving against his. Your mind on the other hand was filled with alarms, wasn’t this too familiar? You hadn’t discussed what was acceptable outside of fooling around, you figured you’d act like you were nothing more than casual friends because that’s what you were? This was about sex, fun casual sex, nothing more.

Just as you were going into full mental shutdown, he pulled away looking smug.

"And that’s what I'm talking about, you make kissy faces at me like that, I'm going to assume you want me to kiss you.” He was toying with you, knowing damn well he only did it to prove a point. “But if you only want me to kiss you when we're fucking then we need to be clear about it, understand?” You could only nod, effectively rendered speechless, as he wrote out the last rule underlining for good measure. 

  #Rule 3 - Communication.

Still not trusting your voice to come out a few octaves higher than normal, you busied yourself by grabbing the napkin as though there was more to read than three simple rules.

"Should we sign it or something?" You ask

Eddie laughed. "Wanting to get my autograph for when I'm a famous Rockstar?" He teased, but jotted his initials on the left bottom corner of the tissue paper. You ignored him, pen hovering slightly, ‘you can still back out’ the sensible part of your brain whispered, you shook your head slightly signing your initials in the bottom right corner.

It was done, the pact was made. 

Eddie folded the napkin up and put it carefully in the inner top pocket of his jacket, the same pocket that had the condom in earlier. You fell quiet, once again at a crossroads, what happened now would you just see each other at school? Turn up at the other’s house when you fancy a quickie.

“Anyone ever told you, you think too much?” Eddie said leaning back in the booth, arm stretched out behind you.

“Robin mostly, and my Dad” You admit.

“And they’re right, you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm.” He laughed. “You need something to calm you down.” 

“Oh yeah like what?” You rolled your eyes, fiddling with the pen lid, noticing in your peripheral he had moved closer to you.

“Like the reward I promised you.” He muttered, tracing a finger through the remnants of whipped cream that lingered around the rim of his milkshake glass, you watched entranced, breath quickening, as he brought the finger to his mouth, licking up to his ringed knuckle. "Seems only fair, you ate when i told you, so how about you and I go back to the van and I eat your pussy out before dropping you home hmm?"

You felt your jaw drop in an almost comical fashion, Eddie taking full advantage swiping his thumb across your plump lower lip.

"Is that a yes baby? Remember what we just said about communication." He teased, his other hand coming down to stroke the exposed part of your thigh, grinning at the shiver which passed through you.

"Yes please." You all but whimpered.

"Good girl." He praised, grabbing your hand and pulling you quicker than lightning from the booth, leaving only a few crumpled notes, the sounds of your giggling following you out of the diner.

[sterekmpreg]

can you do stiles mpreg headcanons for me? like him preggers with eli🫶🏼☺️

FOR SURE😭 I love getting these😩 a few notes first: Derek never lost his alpha status and Scott gave him up after Derek confronted him about Stiles being his mate and never letting Scott take Stiles away from Derek's pack. Some of the people who were dead aren't dead.

LET ME HAVE MORE ASKS! but for real, feel free to ask me for more headcanons or more in detailed specific asks. I love answering them.

Stiles loves Derek adoring his pregnant stomach and Derek loves showing Stiles his Love for the full-rounded tummy. Kisses, tender touches, rubbing, stroking…. Derek does it all. He's even been caught a few times talking or singing to the bump softly early in the mornings or late into the hours of sleep.

Stiles sobs like a maniac when his jeans don't fit and the pack makes a day of buying new clothes for all so Stiles wouldn't feel singled out and they spoil the hell out of a very hormonal Stiles. The day was filled with eating, bonding, Lydia doing her well-known fashion shows in fitting rooms, and pictures. All at the expense of Derek's Bank account.

Noah, after being explained the possibility of Stiles' pregnancy through makes and mating by Peter's Education on the subject, stands and shouts “I'm gonna be a good damned grandpa!” before high-fiving every pack member he can reach.

Stiles goes into overload with the whole wolf theme. I'm talking wolf-themed onesies, bottles, binkies, hats, sweaters, baby booties, etc. And Derek, he doesn't have the heart to tell his excited mate that the dresser and closet are almost full after Stiles, Issac, and the girls go baby shopping.

The pack sometimes has a hard telling if Grandpa or the expecting parents are more eager to meet the tiny bundle of Joy that would become Elias Claude Stilinski Hale (Eli). And Noah definitely didn't help to stop Stiles with the Wolf theme because if anything he was enabling it.

Stiles has cravings for many things but his most frequent are Deer burgers, Onion rings, pickle wraps, and peanut butter milkshakes. Malia of course loves Stiles's first craving, Noah likes his son not being able the get onto him about greasy onion rings they'd eat together, Derek was glad pickle wraps were normal cravings, and Peter indulges in Peanut butter milkshakes with his favorite nephew-in-law.

Stiles has a hard time in the later months of the pregnancy and is basically left on bed rest after 8 months. Eli liked to kick Stiles all night in the bladder and on multiple occasions, Stiles would just cry after waking up and throwing his legs over the bed because everything just fucking hurt! Derek, being a good mate would wake up and help the heavily pregnant man by taking some pain as the walked to and from the bathroom and even as his mate fell asleep beside him after each slowly agonizing bathroom trip.

The Pack runs wild with the pack mom Stiles idea and can't stop making jokes about having a new “baby brother”. Erica and Issac go out of the way and get custom shirts labeled dad, mom, Grandpa, favorite uncle, big brother, big sister, etc. with everyone's name on the back if their own shirt as a cute pack idea when Stiles said he wanted to do a family photo shoot of their pack. (the shirts were a surprise for Derek and Stiles and they couldn't stop laughing as the pack forced them into their shirt for the photos.)

[lovelytsunoda]

careful daughter // marcus armstrong

summary: she's always been the careful daughter. when she slips up on a final exam, marcus knows jsut how to make everything better. or, where he fell in love with a careful man's once careless daughter.

warnings: talks of past regrets

pairing: marcus armstrong x female! reader

she knew she'd bottled it almost as soon as she'd handed in the paper

even though she'd looked it over, confused and frustrated, four separate times, she was one of the first to hand it in

the perfect student who looked like she was always on top of things, the smartest in the room

but she didn't feel like it as she walked towards the campus parking lot, a pit in her stomach as she waited for marcus

since she didn't need to be at the campus for long, he said he'd drop her off before the exam, and then take her out to dinner afterwards

and god did she need marcus cornelius armstrong right now.

she needed him to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be fine.

"princess, what's wrong?" marcus asks her, the air in his bmw heavy with the anxiety radiating off his girlfriend

"i fucked up, marcus. the most important exam of my college career, and i think i bottled it."

"oh, honey. i'm sorry." marcus frowns, taking her hand in his.

he doesn't know what to do

roles are usually reversed because he's the one bottling something (a.k.a his entire formula 2 season)

he takes her to a fifties themed diner, some place nice and quiet

not exactly romantic, but he hopes it might be able to cheer her up

they order burgers, fries and milkshakes, with a basket of onion rings to share

"i used to be an awful person, marcus. i allowed myself to be defined by one thing and i thought that other people didn't like me, so i pushed them away before they got the chance to really get to know me. i thought i was stopping myself from getting hurt, that i was the only person i needed. i wasted so much time being that person, and now that i'm not, i've spent so much time trying to figure out who i actually am. i have days where i regret every single decision that i have ever made. and what if i'm wasting more time now on a major that's not meant for me?"

and marcus is shocked, for the first time in his life, he's speechless

"baby, listen to me. you aren't that girl any more, and you don't have to be, either. it's just one test. i know first hand how much effort you have put into this course. and you are so fucking good at it, princess. you are going to be the best in your field. none of this has been a waste of time, yeah?"

there's a jukebox in the corner, and he knows just what to do

he gets up, puts a quarter in the record machine

and selects a dolly parton song that he knows is going to make y/n laugh

"tumble out of bed, and stumble into the kitchen, pour myself a cup of ambition"

he knows his singing and dancing routine is awful, all shrugged shoulders and foot-shuffling as his glasses slide down his nose

despite everything, she's laughing, her face lighting up as marcus invites her out onto the tile floor to dance with him to '9 to 5'

and how can she be upset around someone as lighthearted and full of love and life as marcus cornelius armstrong?

the song changes to an aerosmith ballad, for the jukebox is only equipped with the classics

and their food is practically forgotten as they sway together in the middle of the diner to 'i don't want to miss a thing'

and for once, she's not worried about her test, or her grades

she knows she's going to be okay in the end

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Not the Same Moon - Chapter 2

read on ao3 Work Summary: When the Curtis parents died, Darry was only three semesters away from graduating college. He gave it all up to take care of his brothers and return to life as a greaser. OR: an AU where Darry was much farther into college when he had to come home. It changes a lot of things, some things are always the same.

Working at the Dingo wasn’t that bad. 

It was easier on Darry’s hands and back than roofing. Plus, he genuinely liked getting to talk to people. But it was a greaser hang out for a reason, the people that came around weren’t always the most savory. 

There were grease stains on the ceiling and the curtains were faded from the sun. All of the booths and stools were cracked. The counter was always a little bit sticky, no matter how many times Darry cleaned it. But the burgers couldn’t be beat. That’s why people kept coming back.

Darry had been waiting tables there since the day after his parents’ funeral. Most nights, he picked up a shift at the Dingo. And worked until late. Soda always got on his ass about working too much, but he never complained when he brought home burgers and fries for the gang. 

“Hey, Curtis!’ He looked over to see his boss, calling for him from behind the counter. Mr. Miller nodded to one of the other booths, “Grab table three, Mona’s on her break.” 

Darry nodded, sliding him a tray of dirty dishes and cups before heading over. Sitting in the booth closest to the doors were Steve, Dally, and Soda. They all looked at him with shit eating smiles. 

That was, unfortunately, a common occurrence. A few times a week, someone took it upon themselves to come bother him at work. Usually it was Two-Bit taking Johnny and Ponyboy out for a bite after school. 

Despite the long shift, he still smiled at the sight of his brother and their friends. Since dropping out a few months earlier, Soda seemed happier. It had been a long fight that ended with them giving each other the silent treatment for three days. Then Darry found Soda hyperventilating over English homework. Soda dropped out two days later.

“What do you knuckleheads want?” Darry asked with a smirk. 

Soda answered for all three of them, “Two cheeseburgers, fries, a hamburger with relish,” he gave Steve a dirty look, “and some onion rings to go. For Ponyboy,” he added.

Darry raised his eyebrows, “Where’d you get that kind of cash, little buddy?’

Soda and Steve looked incredibly smug. Steve chimed in, “Dal’s forkin’ it up. He lost a bet.”

Darry rolled his eyes, “Alright, it’ll be out in a few.” He glanced up at the clock by the door. “I’m off in an hour, y’all gonna stick around that long?”

“Throw in a strawberry milkshake?” Soda asked, making his eyes big and pleading. Darry gave a long suffering sigh and ruffled his brother’s hair. Soda squawked and batted his hand away. 

“I’ll be right back.” Darry knocked on the table and went to deliver the order to the kitchen. 

He stuck the paper on the backboard and told the cook, Peter, “Take your time on this one, bunch of hooligans.” Peter chuckled and nodded. 

As Darry kept working, he felt the boys watching him. He made an extra effort to appear at ease and pretend that his arms weren’t aching. It was nearing ten and before he even got to the diner, he worked a full day at the roofing company. But that was his normal now. Gone were the days of classes and course work and football games and parties. He worked from dawn until well after dark. 

Darry looked over and watched Soda laughing loud enough for the whole diner to hear. That was why he was doing it. And it was more than reason enough. 

After the boys ate and tucked away Pony’s onion rings, Dally handed him a wad of bills. It was thicker than it should have been and Darry gave Dally a look. Dally didn’t acknowledge it, he was already trying to steal some of Steve’s leftover fries. 

Darry didn’t take charity and the Dallas Winston he knew before college would never hand money out like that. But Darry tucked the extra bills into his pocket as he headed to the cash register. Ever since Darry’d come back to Tulsa, something was off with Dally. Half the time he was alright with Darry and the other half he hated his guts.

Once it had finally turned ten, he met the boys outside. Dally and Steve were already in the back of the pick up and smoking like chimneys. Soda leaned against the passenger side and grinned when he saw Darry approaching.

“Good day?” Darry asked as he and Soda hopped into the cab. 

Soda nodded with a smile. He went on to talk about his day at the DX, Darry listened with a small smile. Man, Soda could really talk when he wanted to.

They were only two or three blocks away from home when all of a sudden, Dally pounded on the roof of the truck, yelling at Darry to pull over. Darry jerked the wheel to the right, nearly sending the car into the ditch. He threw his arm over Soda’s shoulders to stop him from slamming into the dashboard.

Before the truck was even parked, Steve and Dally were vaulting over the side of the truck and running into an alley. The brothers exchanged a look and quickly followed after them.

Dally was already shouting, “Hey, get off’a him!”

Over the sound of their feet on the ground, it was hard to hear, but when Darry entered the alley, he heard Ponyboy crying out. The kid was shouting for him and Soda and the rest of the gang with desperation as he tried to fight. There were socs on top of him, a blade held to his throat.

One soc had Ponyboy’s arms wrenched behind his back, another gripped his hair to yank his head back, the last had the blade to Pony’s chin. 

Darry saw red. 

That was something recent. He’d always been quick to anger, but after losing his parents it only seemed to get stronger. It only took a small spark for him to erupt in fire. 

The gang made quick work of the socs and sent them running. Dally and Steve were jeering at the socs’ retreating backs. 

Darry turned around to find Soda crouching down in front of Ponyboy, holding his sleeve to his chin to stay the bleeding. “Let me see,” Darry said as he took a knee in front of them. Ponyboy kept his eyes trained on the ground as Soda pulled his hand away. “You alright, Ponyboy? They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”

Pony shrugged with one shoulder, but Darry watched his face scrunch up at the way it pulled on what must have been a myriad of bruises under his shirt. “I’m okay.” There was a shake in his voice that Darry knew meant he was trying not to cry. 

He took a napkin out of his pocket and gave it to Pony who held it to his chin. 

Darry kept his eyes on his little brothers. Pony’s nose twitched and his mouth crooked to his left. He was about to cry. The second a tear started to drip down Pony’s cheek, Soda wrapped an arm around him, “Easy, Ponyboy. They ain’t gonna hurt no more.

It could have been so much worse. He could have been holding Ponyboy’s dead body, blood covering his hands. Now that he saw his brother was alright, that same anger came bubbling back up. 

“What the hell were you thinking, walking home by yourself?” Darry snapped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin he must have left in his pocket from work. He handed it to Pony and hauled him to his feet. 

Pony wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve, “I was just comin’ home from the movies.”

Darry yanked a hand through his hair, “Well you shoulda brought someone with ya, you know better than that.” Ponyboy just leaned deeper against Soda. For his part, Soda met Darry’s eyes and gave him a subtle shake of the head. 

He sighed, “Get your ass in the car, both of ya.”

Soda wrapped an arm around Ponyboy’s shoulders and started to guide him to the truck.

Pony always had his head in the clouds, he drank stories like water. Sometimes Darry wished he’d keep his damn head firmly planted on his neck. 

No one in the gang slept over that night. Johnny gave Pony a long hug before heading out with Dally. Pony seemed real down after everything that happened, but when Soda gave him the onion rings, he perked right up. 

Soda and Ponyboy went to bed before too long. Darry just sat in his chair watching TV as he listened to them talk as they got ready for bed. Every so often, he could hear Pony laughing. 

Since their parents died, there’d been a current of static in Darry’s veins. It colored his every moment with worry and stress and fear. But hearing his brothers laugh, seeing them smile, it made it go away for just a second.

Once their bedroom door was shut, Darry was just about to go to bed himself when the phone rang. Darry sighed and plopped back down in his arm chair and picked up. “Hello?”

“Darry Curtis? How’re you doing, man?” It took him a second to place the voice. Trevor, one of his friends from U of O. He hadn’t heard from him since he left. 

Darry smiled, “Hey, Trev, what’s up?”

“Me and some of the guys are taking a road trip and we’re passing through Tulsa this weekend. Thought you might want to join since we’re passing through.”

A pit settled in Darry’s chest. He would love it more than anything to just take the weekend and shoot the shit. But he had responsibilities. He was working both days at the Dingo from open to close. 

Darry sighed, “I’m working this weekend.”

“Come on!” Trevor pleaded. “Just ditch, it’ll be fine.”

God what he wouldn’t give to be able to just ditch and have everything work out. But no, he had two kid brothers and a gaggle of teenagers to look after. Taking time off wasn’t an option. They were strapped for cash as it was. 

“I can’t, sorry, Trev. But if y’all want to grab lunch or something-”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Trevor cut him off. “It was nice to talk to you, man.” And the line went dead. 

Darry grinded his teeth together and forced a calming breath through his lungs. He put the phone back on the base.

[rekas-writes]

Valorant Agents and Their Fast Food Sins

Pair: Implied! Individual Agent (Neon, Killjoy, Raze, Jett, Chamber, Harbor, Sage, Reyna, Viper, Phoenix, Yoru)/GN! Reader - more so Individual HCs Source: Valorant

Type: Headcanons/Bulletpoints - 652 words Genre: Comedy/Fluff/Crack Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)

TW: None

A/N: Hi! It's been a while! I hope you've had a wonderful New Year and a fantastic winter holiday/winter in general, my lovely customers! I'll be wrapping up some orders before diving back into my October series! ❤️

Further A/N: It was my birthday on the 31st December and I've just come back from the Philippines. I was dealing with a couple things but I'm hoping to get back into writing! This was just a fun, little thing I thought of while out in London. There was a Wendy's and a Taco Bell and those things are hard to come by here in the UK, haha- and so naturally it evolved into fast food habits nobody asked for.

Of course if you do any of these combos, more power to you! This is all in jest and I just wanted to write a light-hearted comedy/joke piece :D

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🍡 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

Neon: Cuts a donut in half and then sandwiches her McDonald's apple pie with it. It helps with her sweet tooth and she swears it's the perfect dessert combo. Will also make you one in an effort to get you to appreciate this sugary goodness as much as she does. She might also wink and say it's not as sweet as you... and then cover her face with a hand because she can't believe she just said that

Killjoy: Puts chicken nuggets in her chicken sandwich and if you tell her that's too much chicken for the bread to filling ratio, she'll just add more out of amusement. If you encourage her? She'll get you to help her put as much chicken as possible in there

Raze: Mixes all the sauces together. All of them. And then she will ask you to grab more sauces/your leftover sauces. Sauces are boring on their own apparently. If you ever raise an eyebrow at that, she'll just shrug and tell you not to bash it ‘till you try it. Somehow it doesn't taste bad at all

Jett: Puts chicken nuggets and other random fillings from different fast food joints on pizza and then folds it like a calzone. Has and will defend this to the end of time. If you ask her why she doesn't just make her own custom pizza/calzone, she says it doesn't taste the same

Chamber: Puts onion rings and fries in his burger. It's not really a sin, but he genuinely thinks this is a weird combination/thing to do so he never does it in front of people. He'll wait for you to go to the bathroom or something, and then add them in. Might steal your onion rings and/or fries too while you're gone. I'll cut him some slack, only because he doesn't really eat enough fast food to know the common food 'hacks'.

Harbor: Eats the fillet-o-fish and a random other burger/sandwich combined. If you give him a look, he will take another bite slowly and chew obnoxiously with a smug look. He does the exaggerated "mmm" too and closes his eyes just to hear you laugh and roll your eyes

Sage: Likes the good ol' fries in the milkshake and pineapple on pizza. She really likes the salty-sweet combos and has more of a sweet tooth than she'd like to admit. She also thinks the fruit/shakes help(s) make fast food feel less greasy

Reyna: Uses human blood as ketchup She mixes coffee and soda together to feel something. You don't even question her, mostly because she refuses to explain herself and doesn't feel the need to. She'll just shrug, smile and then offer you a taste- saying it's like devouring a soul. It tastes like battery acid

Viper: Doesn’t commit food sins but she did try to poison someone’s fast food. She just wanted to test out a weaker poison she had on hand, and decided her target would be that one person who wouldn't take a hint and leave you alone. Never leave your food unattended around her, especially if you're going to blatantly annoy her S/O.

Phoenix: Puts popcorn chicken in his munchkin donuts. He claims to be a food connoisseur every time you question it, and that it'll catch on as a food trend one day. You tried it once and didn't know how to feel about the fact you didn't hate it. He gets really excited every time he gets this particular combo and you can't help but smile at his childlike giddiness

Yoru: Probably puts salt in his cheap coffee, it tastes awful but he does it anyway- maybe out of spite. He got the salt from the tears of his enemies. He never stopped to consider that just because he could, maybe he shouldn't. You don't say anything because the last time you did, he drank it faster and then got another

[acotrash]

First Date with Rhys head canons 

Rhys head canons 

Your friend had dragged you away from your laptop and textbooks, telling you “(Y/N) it’s a Friday night they’ll be there in the morning” and dragged you all the way to some club opening that they’ve been talking about all week 

You two are quickly let in, partly because your friend has most of the bouncers in the city wrapped around their finger

“Remember-“ “yeah yeah, I know, only a few drinks” your friend waved a hand at you as you closely followed them to the bar were seconds later a brightly colored drink was placed in your hands

It was not a only a few drinks

You and your friend were dancing on the dance floor, a bright and fruity drink in your hand when your friend nudged you “don’t look now but a guy over there has been keeping an eye on you”

You of course look, chewing on the straw as you slurp down the rest of your drink “which one?” “Violet eyes, black shirt, black jacket”

You turn back to your friend, slightly smirking as you hand your empty glass to her “I’m gonna go take a lap” your friend rolls their eyes “mhm, be safe”

You go to walk towards the hot mystery man when another guy steps into your path, grabbing your arm. He smells like cheap cologne mixed with smoke and alcohol, not a good mix. He leans down to talk in your ear over the music “wanna dance?”

You still flash him a pretty, polite smile as you try to step around him shaking your head

He tries to grip your upper arm but you angle your upper body away from him “come on, just one dance”

“There you are” you look up, seeing the same violet eyes from across the bar “line for the bathroom long?”

You sigh in relief when the guy throws your savior a look before stalking off, you turn fully to the man in front of you “I cannot begin to thank you enough…” trailing off not knowing his name

He smirks down at you “Rhysand” a little shrug “Rhys”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips “well thank you Rhysand Rhys” that makes him laugh

“Would you like to dance…” he trails off, a twinkle in his eye, his laugh still playing in your mind, you feel all giddy as you nod telling him your name

He’s a good dancer, his hands on your hips as he guides you along to the beat and doesn’t say a word when you knock into him or step on his feet

Eventually he leans down to talk in your ear, his breath ticking the shell of your ear “would you like to go somewhere else (Y/N)?”

You’re pretty sure when Rhys asked you to leave the club he didn’t imagine taking you to the 24-hour diner

But that’s where you two end up, talking about everything and anything over greasy diner food

You two order burgers and fries and onion rings and then he gives you a cheeky grin and orders a milkshake with two straws

which turns into you getting a second milkshake because he hogged the first one “you didn’t save me any! How ungentleman of you”

“You slurped it down so fast, I only had two sips!” You stick your tongue out at him, and the next time the cranky waitress walked over to try and hand Rhys the check, he ordered the second one, telling you it was all yours

He doesn’t let you pay, instead just sliding his credit card to the cranky waitress who looked thrilled to have you and him leave

He gets you a cab since you’re sure your friend is long gone at this point and he lives close by

He leans on the car door, watching you get all buckled “can I take you out again (Y/N)?”

You say yes before you can think about it but he grins widely closing the door and tapping the top of the taxi

It pulls away before you could even think about asking Rhys for his number you turn around, trying to see how far away he is but you couldn’t see him

You pull out to text your friend, to see if either one of you could find him on social media but when you pull out your phone you see he added his contact “The Most Handsome Guy from Last Night”

You laugh quietly leaning your head back on the headrest deciding to text him as soon as you get home