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gretavangroupie · 23 days

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The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Unwelcome Advances, Kissing.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

You absentmindedly swirl the skinny black straw around in your glass, scoffing to yourself as you wonder why the bartender put a stirrer into your Whiskey in the first place. It didn’t need to be stirred. You took it straight. It was fine on its own. Regardless, you sipped around the straw, letting the oaky liquor trickle down the back of your throat.

It wasn’t that you hated flying. It was more that you hated being alone with your thoughts for extended periods of time. Only your phone or a book to occupy your brain, but you knew that only worked for so long. Eventually you’d be left alone to tumble down into those dark, dusty memories that would torment you until you touched down in whatever city you were slated to be in that day.

You hear Josh’s voice, instinctively causing you to turn your head, watching as he and Daniel stand in front of the camera recording whatever video the social media team planned for the day. You gracefully bowed out of that process all together, the team knowing not to approach you about an idea unless they knew it was something you would agree to. Usually though, it wasn’t. You turn to look at Sam on your right, seeing his gaze fixed upon the two of them. Both of you were now watching them as they played along with the skit, a huff of secondhand embarrassment sizzling through you as you sip from your glass. You’d never be caught dead doing that.

Fools. How is anyone ever supposed to take us seriously if all we show them is this?

“You ready for another few months of this shit?” you mumble, your lips barely parting from the edge of your glass.

Sam snickers as he turns back to you. “No. But that’s the job isn’t it?” he answers, swallowing down a gulp of beer, turning to look at you.

“I’m hitting that wall, too.” you answer, meeting the eyes of his girlfriend, Lyla. She sends you a sympathetic look as she squeezes Sam’s arm, giving him the little bit of reassurance he needs. “S’been a shit few weeks.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, instead pursing his lips together and slowly nodding his head as he peers down into his empty glass. Everyone knows better than to indulge you in your misery at this point, vowing not to pick at the festering wound. It’s still fresh and you’re still too volatile.

“Well, we’re going to your happy place, right?” Lyla asks with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah, yeah we are,” you answer, taking another long pull of Whiskey. It was clear she didn’t know the reason it made you happy in the first place was because of the memories you made there with the person no longer around.

You turn your head ready to fall into those memories you’ve been pushing away for weeks, but fate has other plans as you spot your production team walking towards the boarding gate. They look frantic as they talk to each other, their eyes flicking up and down from their phones in their hands. Paul, your band Manager leads the group, finally slipping his phone into his pocket as he spots the gate. Next to him is Corrine, the Production Manager talking on the phone, balancing it between her ear and shoulder as she follows Paul. Wes, the Tour Manager continues to talk to Paul as they step into the waiting area, but behind him is someone you don’t recognize.

She’s looking down at her phone, unaware that Wes has come to an abrupt stop in front of her. She runs into him just enough that it gets his attention, a profuse apology falling from her mouth. You laugh a little at the exchange, wondering who this girl is, and why she is with your team. She’s dressed like the rest of them, casual, but still comfortable for a day of travel. A slouchy white long sleeve shirt, a little too thin for the cold January weather, a brown leather backpack, worn and well loved, and a pair of olive green pants that hug her ass just a little too well for 10AM on a Thursday morning. You find yourself unable to pull your eyes away from her, a magnetizing feeling sucking you in the longer you look at her. She laughs with Wes, a bright smile lighting up her face causing an unwelcome twinge in your chest. It’s when she fully turns though, allowing you to see her whole face through the curtain of tousled waves, that you find yourself needing to know who she is.

You swallow nervously, licking your bottom lip as you turn to Sam. “Who uh, who’s that?” you ask, nodding towards the group. “With Paul, Wes, and Corri?”

Sam turns around in his barstool, looking across the busy walkway to the group standing at the gate. “Oh, um…” he pauses, assessing the situation. “She’s with Paul, so that must be our new runner.”

“What happened to Lucy?” you ask, letting your eyes drift back to the mystery girl.

“She got engaged and moved to Scotland or some shit, I don’t remember. Ask Josh,” he laughs.

You hum, trying to remember the email thread where Paul’s new assistant was approved. What was her name…

“You know her name?” Lyla asks, looking at Sam.

Yes, Lyla. Yes.

“Um, I think it’s….Y/N. Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” he answers confidently, snapping his fingers as he speaks.

“So she’s the new Lucy…” you hum, flipping your sunglasses down over your eyes.

“Guess so. We’ll see if she can hack it,” he laughs, sliding his card to the bartender.

You turn back to look at her, this time your eyes concealed. She is rocking back and forth on her feet, looking around as she hugs her arms across her chest. She seems nervous, pushing her hair behind her ears every few minutes. You’re positively taken by her, unable to peel your eyes away from her every move. You can’t help but study her, and you briefly wonder if it's the alcohol rushing through your brain that has you so focused on her.

The gate agents’ voice blaring through the intercom system snaps you from your thoughts, announcing that your flight was ready to begin boarding. You look to Sam, who is signing the check, and nod your head in silent agreement that you should head over. You toss back the rest of your Whiskey, letting out a sigh as it warms your chest. You grab your black leather backpack and sling it over your shoulders, straightening out your shirt before following Sam across the walkway to the gate. With your glasses still down, you step into the waiting area, watching people line up around you.

Josh, Ty, Mia, and Daniel appear behind you, startling you a bit as you fumble around in your pocket for your boarding pass. Their conversation is loud and grating, but you tune them out. You check your seat assignment as you move forward in the line, repeating it in your head over and over so you don’t forget it. You try not to pay attention to the pretty mystery girl five people ahead of you, but you just can’t seem to take your eyes off of her. You watch her disappear down the jet bridge as she talks to Paul, and before you can even register it, it’s your turn and the gate agent is scanning your ticket. She sends you on your way with a smile, and as you make the long walk to the plane you wonder if the girl in the green pants is going to make this tour just a little bit more interesting.

—

HER POV

3E. 3E. 3E.

Your eyes scan the row of numbers at the top of the cabin, finally catching sight of your assigned seat. You slide into the aisle seat, tossing your backpack to the floor as you let out a sigh of relief. You made it in one piece. You weren’t late, and everyone seemed to like you so far.

You take a look around you, admiring the plush seats and ample legroom. You’d never flown first class before. You felt a little out of place as you looked at the people around you. Thankfully it was filled with team members you knew, and the band members and their partners, but still you knew you didn’t belong up here. You kicked your bag beneath the seat in front of you, pulling your shirt sleeves over your hands before reaching up to adjust the air vents that were blowing far too hard. A small shiver left your body as you spun the vents closed, sitting back comfortably in your seat as you waited to see who your seat partner would be.

Your phone buzzed on your lap, a text from your best friend lighting up your screen.

Ruth

10:57am: How many hours is the flight again?

You smile as you quickly text back, running the numbers in your head.

You

10:58am: I don’t know, like 7 or 8 hours? You’ll be fine. Read a book or something. I’ll text you when I get there. But it will be late…or early? I think? There is a big time difference.

Ruth

10:59am: Ok, be careful.

You lock your phone and shove it under your leg, your eyes darting to the aisle as more people pass you on their way to their seats. You couldn’t believe your first leg of tour with them was taking you across Europe, allowing you to see places you’d only dreamed about. It wasn’t the job you were worried about, you could do that in your sleep. It was the uncertainty of being in another country with people you didn’t really know.

Getting to know the bands you worked for was a precarious thing. Always walking the thin line between friend and employee. You knew your place though, and you knew where that boundary lied. Your eyes refocus as someone stops in front of you, dropping their hands. As you look up you see Jake, one of the band members staring back at you.

“I’m…right there,” he says, gently pointing to the seat next to you.

“Oh, right here?” you ask, genuinely curious how you were seated next to a band member and not with a crew member.

“3F? That’s what this says…” he asks, checking his boarding pass. You nod and stand, letting him slide into the seat. He drops his leather backpack to the ground with a thud, letting out a sigh of relief, much in the same way you had.

You resettle in your own seat, buckling your seatbelt and pulling it tight across your lap. Your heart is still pounding as you try to calm your nerves, suddenly feeling put on the spot next to your boss. Or– your boss's boss. Shit.

You realize that you know practically nothing about this band, about its members, and really even much of their music beyond their hits. You planned to spend most of this flight acquainting yourself with them, learning their likes and dislikes before making a fool out of yourself in front of them in the green room. You don’t know if you should speak to him, and truthfully you’re a little hesitant since that day at the office, catching him and Josh in an argument.

You didn’t even know they would be there as you went in to sign your paperwork, but to your surprise they were, standing in the middle of the office playing around on instruments and talking. You made a beeline straight for the management office, mostly unseen, and quickly signed your paperwork. Paul went over some of the timelines and the things you would be responsible for as you took detailed notes on your phone, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Though, all of that came to a screeching halt as the sound of a chair skidding forcefully across the concrete floors pulled you both from your conversation. From your seat you watched through the small office door as two men moved towards each other, while two more intervened to break up whatever was about to happen.

You then learned from Paul that the two people that were arguing were the twins, Jake and Josh, and that the other two were their younger brother Sam, and their honorary brother Daniel. You observed in shock as the two of them shouted profanities at each other from either side of the piano, both red faced and worked up over something.

Paul quickly walked you out the front door with an apology and a laugh, and that was the last you saw of the band and its members, until today.

Out of the corner of your eye, you try to get a good look at him without him noticing. First impressions have always been a big deal to you, and since your first impression of him was nothing short of off-putting, you decide to try again. Give him the benefit of the doubt.

Worn-in black pants, cuffed at the ankle, a wrinkled beige button up that only conceals half his torso, a thick dark navy overcoat, and a stack of heavy silver necklaces. Oh, and blue-tinted sunglasses. His cologne… now that will be sticking around in your mind for a while. Clean, woodsy, a hint of musk but still kind of sweet.

You hear him clear his throat as he fidgets with his things, putting them all in their places as he finally settles into his seat. He reaches down into his black leather bag that appears to be well-loved, and pulls out a set of wired earbuds. They’re tangled and bunched, and you can’t help but smirk as you watch him try to untangle them. His fingers pull through the twisted white wires, and before you can offer your help, he reluctantly tosses them back down on top of his unzipped bag. “Fuck it,” you hear him mumble under his breath. He huffs again and leans back, tapping his fingers anxiously on his arm rests.

You let yourself drift back into your own thought as the plane takes off, going over the hundreds of miniscule things you know you’ll have to accomplish as soon as the plane lands. It’s quiet in first class, something you aren't used to with flying on the regular. The peacefulness that comes along with the drone of the plane and the light conversation between everyone is almost enough to help you relax a little, if not for the damned cool air still blowing through the vent above you.

You shiver a little, cuffing your hands over the ends of your shirt to pull it in more closely to your body. Why you had chosen to forgo a heavier jacket in the middle of winter, you truly don’t know. You decide to distract yourself a little, pulling up the string of endless emails that lie in waiting on your phone, getting a nice head-start on your duties before you have to hit the ground running.

Jake has been sitting beside you quietly for about an hour now, alternating scrolling his phone every few minutes and looking out his window. The cloud cover is heavy, so being able to see even a glimpse of the ocean below you is a lost cause. You listen as he sighs, crossing one of his legs over the other and folding his hands in his lap.

Should you strike up conversation? No, he probably doesn’t care to speak to you. But is it rude not to? You’ve already been sitting here for over an hour…

Just as you decide to open your mouth to speak, the plane hits turbulence. The cabin shakes and rumbles, and you can feel your stomach fall. Your hands grip the arm rests with white knuckles as the plane passes through, your eyes gripping shut as tightly as your palms on the arm rests.

Finally, after what feels like forever the plane evens out again, and you hear the pilot come over the intercom to apologize. You finally let the breath you were holding free from your lungs, and you open your eyes to see Jake with his head leaned low in front of you.

“You okay?” he asks, an eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just…don’t really enjoy this part much.” you admit, running your sweaty palms over your pants.

He sits back in his seat once he notices your calmness return. “Me neither, to be honest. No matter how many times you hit turbulence on a plane, you never get used to it. I don’t care what people say.” he says with a sweet smile. You can tell that he was coming down from an anxious episode just the same as you.

“No joke…” you agree, suddenly wanting a drink even if it was before noon. You push the tiny hairs away from your face as you regain a hold on your bearings, picking up right where you had left off before the turbulent air sent you into a spiral of doom. “I–I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before, my name’s–”

“Y/N.” he cut in, extending the tips of his fingers out to offer you a friendly handshake.

You let your hand slowly come up to meet his, suddenly uncaring that it was probably still clammy. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”

For the five seconds your bodies connect, and the even shorter few seconds that his honey brown eyes meet yours, you feel like you were worried for nothing. This guy is nice. Maybe he’ll be easier to talk to than you thought…

His hand disconnects and flies to his chest. “I’m Jake.”

You nod. Of course you already know his name. “Yeah, um…guitar. Right?”

He smiles harder this time. “Yup. That’s my forte, at least. Have you um, ever been to Europe?” He brushes his hand over his nose a few times as his eyes dart back and forth from the seat behind you and back to your face, unable to hold eye contact. Is he nervous?

You turn your body a little more toward him. “No, actually. This is my first time. But I hear good things…”

“Oh shit, you’re gonna love it. Especially this time of year. Things move pretty fast when we get there, but we always try to explore as much as possible. See some sights.” You can tell that he’s truly excited about this excursion, and to be completely honest, you found yourself wanting to hang on his every word.

“Anything in particular?” you press, wanting to hear the gritty rich sound of his voice again.

You let him talk on and on about the places he wants to see, and the places that they had already been, even bringing up a few older photos on his phone as he describes their past trips. You try not to look as he scrolls, but his camera roll is full of tons of scenic photos and videos, landscapes, mountains, waterfronts… and of course a few rogue photos of guitars and guitar parts. You wonder if he’s planning to make little vlogs.

“Italy is my favorite, I think. So much history there. I could’ve stayed for six months if they’d have let me.” Your shoulders are pressed up against each others’ now as you watch his thumb glide over the multitude of media, speeding through the less important ones to get to his favorites. Strange of him to trust a stranger this much to watch him scroll his personal camera roll. He obviously doesn’t have much to hide, even if this is crossing that boundary line…

“The people are great, the food is great, the wine, oh god, don’t get me started on the wine…” he chuckles, and you feel yourself bumping your shoulder against his a little as you laugh along with him. “The terroir is fuckin’ phenomenal, obviously. It’s like a different world.”

“I like a moscato every now and then.” You add, trying to throw in your two cents on your crumbs of wine knowledge.

He returns with a scrunched nose. “Hmm, a bit sweet for my taste…So, Y/N. What’s your story, how’d you end up with us?” he asks, switching to cross his other leg over, now.

You swallow, unsure of how to explain years’ worth of ups and downs you’d gone through to a rockstar. Your boss. You decide to keep it short and sweet, he didn’t need to know everything.

“Well, I spent my entire youth attending a small private school and private high school, so I came up quite the determined and disciplined kid. Kinda sheltered.” You turn again in your seat, tucking one leg up underneath you. “But, I ended up moving away from home and away from family, been in this business for almost, eh, six years now?” You go on, and he listens intently. “Guess you could say I’m a pro at making things happen out of thin air.” You give him a long wink as you snap your fingers together.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he finally gives you a hundred-watt smile. My god, he’s…

“A-ha, so you got all the good hookups, huh?” He asks, running his fingers over his chin as his cheeks turn the palest shade of pink.

“S’what the runner does, isn’t it?” You pull your eyes back down to your lap. “Get you everything you need, right when you need it?”

You bring your eyes back up to his and watch as he swallows hard, his mouth hanging open for just a split second before he catches himself. “Yeah, ehm, I suppose it is. We’re not too bossy, though. Josh can be, but.”

“So I’ve heard, he’s kind of a…diva?” You hadn’t done too much research on them, honestly. You hadn’t had the time. But, what few tiktoks and musics videos you had managed to see were fairly telling of their personalities.

“He is. He is.” Jake laughs. “Don't let him fool you, though. He’s a big softie with an attitude problem. We all kind of are, honestly.”

“You’re a softie?” You press with a teasing tone. “From the few videos I’ve seen of you playing guitar, you look a little intimidating…”

“Me? Intimidating?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Y/N. It’s dangerous…” he growls the last word, and you can feel your insides ripping themselves apart just at the sound of his voice. You have to pull back, now.

“All the runners we’ve ever had did extensive research on us before they came on tour, did you not do that?” he inquires, throwing you off a bit.

You don’t really know how to answer, so you tell the truth. “Honestly Jake, no, I didn’t. I’ve toured with a few other bands in my career, and I did that. I researched them, learned all things I thought I needed to know so I didn’t go in blind. And, this time around, I did a little bit, but I kind of wanted to meet you all for myself. Get my own versions of you.”

“Hm.” He responds with an understanding nod. “Well, you’ll be the first.”

“Speaking of,” you go on, candidly glancing around the cabin and deciding to go ahead and ask the question that’s been nagging you. “Everyone else is seated with someone, wonder why I’m not with the rest of the team.”

“What, you don’t wanna sit by me, Y/N?” he asks with a shred of a grin.

“No no, it’s not that.” you laugh. “Just—“

“Normally I have someone with me, but…we’ve recently…gone our separate ways, I suppose.” He trips over the words a little, stammering through them like it was the first time he’d admitted it.

“Oh… I see.” you pause, “That’s…never an easy thing.”

I wonder if that was why he was so snippy that day at the office when you saw him fall off his rocker?

“Eh, s’alright. Win some, lose some. We had a good run.” He says as he waves off the question. “So, you say you’ve been doing this awhile, you must really miss whoever you’re leaving at home.”

Skating around the question, aren’t you, Jake?

“No, I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.” You bite your lip as he doesn’t stop you from elaborating further. “I’m pretty independent, I like structure and uniformity. Growing up I wasn’t allowed much time on my own to have hobbies outside of school and practice. Strict parents. The job has kept me pretty adhered to that mindset, even in my personal life, so.”

His eyes flick to yours and he squints them a little, as if he’s collecting every single one of your words and hanging them in a closet in his mind. He’s trying his best to figure you out, you can see it on his face. But why? He shouldn’t care…you don’t matter.

“I can respect that.” He nods again. “My brothers and I, we grew up in a fairly religious household. Was great, don’t get me wrong. Really formed our roots but, as we got older and started to see the world, we kinda got away from it. Began to start seeing things in a different perspective.” He sucks his teeth, as if he’s recounting a hard memory. “Kinda why we moved to Nashville. We knew we had to break away if we wanted the band to be successful.”

You nod in understanding. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

His laugh fills the cabin as it bounces off the walls, a sweet chuckle that makes your heart rate pick up. You could listen to him laugh all day long.

“S’pose it did.”

“The fuck are you two over here laughing at, huh?” Suddenly Josh’s curls are squished between your seats, his cheeks pinched together as he speaks. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye but I can’t from all the babbling—”

Jake places his hand over entirety of his twin’s face, pressing him through and back into his own seat. “None of your business, fuck off.”

You laugh at their antics, knowing in the back of your mind that you had better get used to it. You feel the air kick on again, fiercely blowing the freezing cold air directly onto you. You shiver a little, balling yourself up and pulling your sleeves closely in toward you again.

“You want my jacket?” Jake asks, already starting to pull it from his shoulders.

“No! No no no, thank you, but I’m fine, really.” The last thing you need is that right off that bat. A bad look. Day one. Nope.

“Seriously, I run naturally hot. Take it.” He replies.

“Oh yeah? Hence all your layers?” You tease, repositioning in your seat.

“It’s a fashion statement, thank you very much.” He bites. “All about comfort for me.”

Gotta change the subject.

“So tell me something I should know about your brothers. Something that would give me brownie points if I wanted to say…impress them with my craft service skills…” you press, giving him a new challenge.

“Wow um, let’s see…” he brings his fingers to his chin and thinks hard, and you can’t help but feel endeared by the fact that he truly wants to help you out. “Josh stays away from chocolate and dairy and sweets and all that, but his guilty pleasure is those cotton candy flavored grapes. Weird, I know.”

“Oh my god, those are so nasty!” you laugh, but still take note.

“Danny would be over the moon if you surprised him with salsa verde Doritos, and Sam drinks kombucha more than the normal human should.” he finishes with a stern nod.

“Got it. I think I can make most of that happen, aside from the grapes…”

“He would kiss you right on the lips, I’m telling you.” Jake giggles again, and you notice how he lights up when he talks about them.

“So Josh is the dramatic softie, what about the other two?” you ask.

“Sam’s kinda serious but he’s playful when he wants to be. Sneaky, too. Daniel’s always into something, always busy. Man doesn’t like to sit still,” he concludes, and you commit it all.

“And what about you?” you ask, feeling your stomach flip for some reason.

“I thought you said you wanted to get your own versions of us,” he quipped back, parroting your words from earlier. Damn, you had said that.

You toss your hair behind your shoulder. “I did but…You’ll tell me all about them, but not about yourself?”

He crunches his lips together as his eyes scan your face. It makes you a little uncomfortable, how hard he’s really looking at you, but you let him. Stopping him would be a sin you weren’t ready to commit just yet.

“That’s right.”

The two of you drift off into silence again as the minutes tick by, thankfully not being embarrassingly interrupted by Josh anymore. You decide that you want to listen to some music, so you reach into the pocket of your bag and pull out your AirPods, slipping the left one in first followed by the right. You pull up your music and begin flipping through your playlists, searching for something to match the relaxed tone of the hour. Truly, you feel like you could easily drift off to sleep.

You find a nice quiet playlist and curl up in your seat, halfway reluctant you didn’t take Jake’s jacket, but also proud of yourself for saying no. You’re fucking freezing.

You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, ready to drift off into another world.

You’re jolted awake by turbulence, the plane shaking again as you wake up and get your bearings. “Shit,” you breathe as you sit up straighter, remembering exactly where you are. You notice that in your slumber, your head had fallen against Jake’s shoulder. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

The turbulence only lasts a few seconds before it evens out again, and the calmness returns to your body. You glance at Jake, seeing him looking a little drowsy and shaken, too.

“Jake, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, why didn’t you wake me? I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I kinda dozed off, too,” he replies, stretching his arms high above his head without a care…not like he didn’t just have a stranger asleep with her head on his shoulder.

You look down, noticing that in the time you had drifted off, Jake had covered you with his coat.

You panic, scrambling a little as you work to pull it from your body before anyone notices.

His hands are quickly on yours, stopping your action. “Leave it, Y/N. You were shivering in your sleep…you can’t tell me you aren’t cozy right now…” his voice is barely a whisper, and the warmth of his hands grazing overtop of yours, even for a second, is enough to give you a whole other type of chill.

“Yeah, I—I am warm…” you can’t deny that your body temperature has increased by at least a couple of degrees, and your fingers don’t feel like they’re going to get frostbite anymore. The jacket is heavy, heavier than it looks, and it smells like fresh pine needles and woodsy body soap. Just like…him?

“See?” he growls, backing away. “Just stay put.”

Stay put? You want to bite back with something that will put him in his place; you explicitly told him you didn’t want his jacket, and he covered you anyway. While you were unconscious. While you couldn’t turn down the offer.

…But you’re so warm, now. Your tense muscles are finally relaxing. The frigidity of the space has suddenly turned into a toasty furnace with a crackling fire.

Okay, but just until we land…

“What are you listening to?” Jake asks as he stretches again. You turn your phone for him to see, showing a generic playlist of Peaceful Sleep Songs lighting up your lock screen.

“Agh, no, what is that shit?” Jake snatches your phone from your hand, quickly flipping the screen to unlock with your face before he begins shuffling through your playlists.

“What are you doing?!” you yelp, reaching for your phone back. He raises his free hand to the air, stopping you from taking it.

“Aht aht… I’m finding you something better to listen to. Don’t worry about it.” You suddenly hear the quiet music in your ears switch to something else, something you knew for a fact you hadn’t ever heard before. You give it a second as he turns the volume up a few notches, and you realize that it is most definitely brand new to you.

It’s a solemn, tense-feeling piano beat, followed in by guitar. Lyrics only come in after a minute and a half or so. It sounds like growling, deep and hollow and a bit scary, but beautiful nonetheless. He’s watching your face as you experience it, quickly pressing pause as the song comes to a close.

“What was that?” you ask, realizing you had really enjoyed it.

“That was a song called Intro, by Alt-J. I know you’ve heard of Alt-J.” he says as he goes back to work on the phone.

You slowly shake your head from side to side. “Can’t say I have, actually.”

His jaw goes slack as his eyebrows raise in disbelief. “What? Like, never?”

You feel your cheeks turning pink at the thought of a literal rockstar calling you out on your lack of music knowledge.

“I don’t think so! That’s not what I normally listen to…don’t judge me,” you laugh, reaching for your phone again.

He swats your hand away. “Ohh no, little fledgling. You’re listening to this. This is the good shit…” he presses play again as a twinkling high-pitched voice comes through your ears. It’s just jumbled words, no backing music or tune. The acapella strikes you as strange at first, until the end when it changes tone a bit, and it’s almost as if the lyrics are giving you advice you didn’t ask for. Warning you of something new and exhilarating, or better yet, dangerous and foreboding. It almost feels as if a black cloud has overcome you, only for a split second, letting you feel the nonexistent pokes and pinches that come along with the emotion of worry.

The song flows directly into another now, one layered with a lot more sound, and it pulls you from that odd headspace the previous had put you in. You lean over the armrest, looking at the screen to see the title Tessellate. You’ve never heard anything like this kind of music before, and you wonder why Jake chose this particular artist.

“This is one of their more popular ones, like radio popular, but it’s still one of my favorites on this album. Here in a second you’ll hear it slow down—”

You stop him by pulling your right earbud out, shoving it in his hand. “Shh, you can talk me through the songs later. Let me listen.”

He shuts his mouth, giving you a sweet grin as he takes the bud, placing it in his own ear and pressing play again. You continue on through the album, each song something brand new to you, a genre you’d really never delved into but wish you had, now. It’s enthralling, different, and full of sounds that make your mind sway and swim through mixtures of color and gray.

You watch as Jake’s fingers tap along exactly with the beat of each song perfectly, down to a tee. The words don’t make much sense to you, and you can hardly distinguish what the singer is saying, but you know that Jake will give you a rundown of it all as soon as time allows him. You don’t know much about him, but his persistence is already apparent. You glance to see his eyelashes hitting his cheeks, his head barely bobbing side to side as he feels the music. You find yourself envious that he can draw inspiration and act on it, turning it into art of his own, whereas all you can do is sit back and listen to it.

Every couple of minutes he perks up from his meditation and adds new songs from their other albums onto the little playlist he’s started for you. You can’t quite make out what he’s titled it, but you can tell it's an emoji of some sort. His thumb flips and flies with precision across your screen as he scrolls and adds songs, and you have to admit, you’re a little excited to get your phone back and learn just what he’s creating for you. Especially for you.

You take a quick deep breath as you recenter yourself, catching your eyes drifting over his hand as he grips your phone. The veins in his hand roll over his knuckles, and you can just barely see the scuffed and calloused ends of his fingertips. Dial it the fuck back Y/N, remember the rules.

“Oooh, this is another one of my favorites,” he remarks, his mouth fairly close to your ear as he tries not to raise his voice over the volume of the music. He turns the screen a little so you can see the title, Taro. “You haven’t— You didn’t come to any of our shows last year by chance, did you?”

You feel a big pang of guilt shoot through your chest, remembering that you had actually been invited by some friends to see them way back when, but you’d turned the invitation down, not knowing who they even were at the time. You shake your head from side to side. “No, I didn’t.”

“This is one of the ones we play to the crowd before we go on. We all love it, it’s a sad, sad love tale based on true events. That’s the cool thing about this group, their lyrics are never really about what you think they are. They’re storytellers, a bit like Josh is, if you think about it. Their themes and over arcs are just…mind blowing sometimes.” Jake’s voice is a tiny murmur in your ear as your shoulders lean on one another’s again, still very taken with the music flowing through your ear. “We grab a lot of inspo from them, sonically and melodically…” You can feel his breath on your cheek, and you find yourself wondering what it would taste like…

“Here, read along with the lyrics. Try not to cry.” He hands your phone back, letting you keep up with the words floating down your screen. And he’s right, it’s heartbreaking without even knowing the context.

“Wow…That was really beautiful,” you choke, realizing the depth of the story of the song.

“Yep. Good shit, I told you.” He whips his hand around and takes the phone back as the next song comes in and warms your bones up again. You can feel the bare skin of his elbow brushing against yours, realizing that he was telling the truth about being naturally warm-bodied. Suddenly you don’t feel so bad about cuddling up under his coat.

He opens your contacts app and adds himself, placing the sword emoji beside his name. He smirks as he hands the phone back.

“Added your phone number, huh?” you ask rhetorically.

He sucks his teeth as he cracks his fingers. “Yep. How else will I let you know what I might need? Plus, never know when you might need to call me.”

—

You watch the signs overhead illuminate, a gentle tone ringing through the cabin as the Captain starts to make an announcement. You pause the song and pull your AirPod out, watching Jake do the same.

“Hey folks, this is your Captain speaking. Just want to let you know we will be landing in Hamburg shortly. I’d expect to be on the ground in the next ten minutes or so, putting us about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, so sit tight and we’ll have you on the ground in a few. Attendants please prepare for arrival.”

You turn to look at Jake, shrugging as you slide your AirPod back into the case. He raises his eyebrows and drops his jaw. “But we aren’t done! Wait! Hold on!”

He grabs your phone again, and from what you can see he is adding more songs to your playlist. You watch as he scrolls through various different albums by different artists, adding songs as quickly as he can. You smirk as you catch sight of the emoji he’s chosen, the chick icon, a playful nod at his earlier fledgling comment. He peeks over at you every few seconds, trying his best to hurry so you can pack up your things, but in a last effort you watch as he adds himself as a collaborator to the playlist.

You raise an eyebrow to him as he hands your phone back to you, shrugging with a soft laugh. You feel your insides swirl at the sight of his smile, and you turn your eyes to your phone scrolling through the songs on the playlist. You turn back to him and nod, a silent agreement that you will listen just as you feel the plane starting to land.

“I wanna keep adding songs for you to listen to, fledgling. If you want me to, of course…”

You nod. “Of course I do. School away, Jake,” you reply with an air of playful annoyance.

He chuckles. “I plan to.”

As you brace for the landing you grip your hands into the arm rests, letting go of the soft worn in corduroy fabric you’d been playing with for the last hour. Your eyes squint closed as the plane touches down, jolting everyone forward in their seats. Jake grabs his phone as the plane slows down, flashing his screen at you to show a local time of 12:13AM.

“I see some jet lag in our future,” you smile, sliding his jacket off of your arms. You fold it the best you can and hand it back to him, almost sad you have to give it back to him. “Thanks again for that.”

“Oh yeah, no problem.” He accepts it graciously from you, letting out a soft breath as he unfolds it and slides it back over his shoulders. It fits his personality well, soft and sturdy, worn in and weathered. He flips his hair out from beneath the collar, a barely there smell of peppermint passing through the air. You pull your gaze away from him just as you see his cheeks start to blush from your gaze. You lock your phone and stick it into your backpack at your feet, wondering how in such a short amount of time Jake has managed to infiltrate your thoughts so completely.

JAKE POV

As she turns to grab her bag you open your phone, tapping on the notification that she has added you to her playlist. You accept the invitation with a sly smile before sliding your phone back into your coat pocket. It smells like her now, soft and floral, very different than anything you were used to. Your mind was already circling with things you wanted to add to that playlist when you got a minute, finding it was harder than you thought to think of songs on the fly.

The first few rows begin to file out of the plane and you watch as Paul stands and turns to look at Y/N, motioning to her to meet up with him after she got off the plane. She nods her head and slides her backpack straps over her shoulders, waiting for her turn to stand.

“For jet lag…You know…Um, Benadryl,” you offer, your voice a little soft and unsure.

She turns to look at you, pinching her brows together in question.

“When you get to your room tonight, take a Benadryl. Should knock you out until the morning and help you get on a normal schedule. Works for me, at least.” you finish, nodding to her as the people in front of you stand to leave.

“Thanks, Jake.” She smiles and nods, sliding out of her seat to walk down the aisle.

You watch her as she walks up the jet bridge towards the gate, seeing Paul waiting for her in the doorway. The two walk together through the airport, finding it fairly quiet at this hour as most of the flights have landed for the night. You push your sunglasses down onto your nose just as you feel Josh walking up behind you.

He gives you a gentle nudge in the side to get your attention. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Easy flight,” you answer, still listening and catching bits and pieces of whatever Paul is saying to Y/N, prepping her for the hotel check in and details for the morning. She is typing notes on her phone as she walks, barely looking where she is going, clearly trusting Paul to look out for her more than she should.

You tune out Josh as he rambles on about the flight, Ty jumping in every few words with a retort or a laugh. Your eyes don’t seem to leave her though, watching her talk, watching her walk, shit, just watching her. You can’t seem to shake it. You’d never met anyone like her before. Someone you were so instantly taken with. You wanted to know every single detail about her.

You feel Josh’s hand as it comes up to your chin, pressing it upward and forcing your jaw shut. “There, you seemed to have dropped that.”

You turn to him angrily, knowing what he’s insinuating, giving him a hard elbow to the arm. “Fuck off, Josh.”

He laughs and pushes you with his shoulder, readjusting his backpack on his other shoulder. “Just an observation, that’s all. Can’t say I blame you, though.”

“Oh are you talking about Jake and Y/N?” Sam interjects, stepping up on your right side in a lanky stride.

Josh nods, laughing slightly, wanting to keep this banter going. Asshole.

“Can you two knock it off, fuck,” you growl, hoping she can’t hear them. Your eyes are locked in on her again, and much to your relief she is talking to Paul and can’t hear a word they’re saying.

“He didn’t shut up the entire flight. Lots of whispering and giggles from up there. I didn’t sleep at all. But I did hear his monologue about the genius of Alt-J for the fourth time this year.” Josh quips, earning a laugh from everyone around you.

“Fuck you again, Josh,” you spit, annoyed at his lack of respect.

“Damn, so you’re trying to scare her away, then?” Sam teases, giving you a sideways grin.

You shake your head and push past them forcefully as you step off the escalator into baggage claim, not wanting to engage in this conversation a second longer. Especially because you were afraid they might be right.

—

“Shit, not again,” Danny mumbles as you all approach the baggage claim area, immediately noticing a group of fans obviously waiting for your arrival. You take a deep, preparational breath as you can’t help but run into them on your path to the carousel.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you hear Josh complain as he puts on his faux-happy face. You all love meeting fans. Truly, watching their faces light up when they see you is something that is unparalleled. But coming off of a long flight and already feeling the effects of the time difference, starving, and ready for a drink usually puts all of you in a mood that is generally irked overall. But you always suck it up; this is the life you signed up for.

This time though, unlike most encounters with fans, is enough to make your general irritation quickly turn into intense aggravation. They swarm you, hugging and pulling and invading your spaces in an extremely unwelcome attempt at meeting each of you. You feel surrounded, and unable to get to your luggage in time before it rounds the carousel again. You keep your cool, just as you always do, curtly smiling and pulling away as your body instructs you to. You pause for quick photos as your eyes search the spinning luggage again. You see your brothers out of the corners of your eyes doing the same… quick ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet you’s’ as the crowd just seems to get bigger and bigger.

Just as your eyes finally fall on your suitcase, you hear a loud clack as you turn and notice someone has knocked Sam’s phone out of his hand. It lands face down on the tile floor, likely cracked and scuffed from the people crowding around you all. You watch as Sam’s face turns up in annoyance, his eyes closed as he composes himself.

“Okay, that’ll be enough!” You hear Dean, your security, bellow across the crowd. “Please step away, no more photos, no more photos…” Dean makes his way into the center of group, quickly dispersing them. You give Sam a quick look that says, ‘get your phone, let’s go’, and soon enough you’re rolling your suitcase through the middle of the crowded room.

You see Y/N in the crowd, finding her to be a little flustered from the encounters, but alright nonetheless. You lock eyes with her as she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’, and you nod her off with a look of, ‘Yeah, this happens all the time.’

Your team is surrounding you as you quickly walk through the hallway toward the exit, ready to hop into an unmarked van and zip away to your hotel. You’re still being followed as you make it through the back exit doors.

When you’re finally safe outside the pickup area, everyone breathes a sigh of relief. “Fuck, that was a bad one.” Danny says. “Sam, how's your phone?”

“It’s ok, just a little scuff in the corner but it’ll be fine,” he answers, scanning his eyes over it.

“Guys, keep your phones on, Wes will be texting you tomorrow with where we’re headed next. Get some sleep and something to eat.” Paul instructs as everyone loads their things into the vans. Y/N is standing nearby, and you can tell that she feels a little out of place as she awkwardly crosses one ankle over the other. You take a quick opportunity to knock your elbow into her side, feeling comfortable enough to do that now that you’d sat together so long on the plane, but she’s avoiding eye contact. You hope she doesn’t feel uncomfortable around you.

“Hey, thanks for letting me jam a little with you on the plane,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry if I overstepped any, but I really think you’ll like the music I added for you.”

Finally her composure opens a little. “No, no! You didn’t… overstep. I’m actually excited to hop in my big cozy hotel bed and listen again.” Her words make your stomach fall with nerves, but you quickly suppress it.

“Y/N, you ready?” you hear Wes ask her as he passes by, heading toward another van.

“Yep, all set!” she answers as she follows him through the dwindling group. She hops into another van, and you worry she’ll be staying at another hotel. For a second you think you won’t see her as much if she is. You climb inside the van and slam the door closed behind you, seeing the group of fans with their phones pressed to the windows of the airport. You plop back down into the middle seat beside Josh, and finally take a full breath of relief.

“Fuck! I swear to god if I’m getting sick again…” Josh says as he bangs his head against the headrest behind him. You scoot sideways on the van’s bench seat, staying as far away from him as you can.

“Are you serious?!” Danny says from the seat behind you. “You need a mythical medicine man or some shit.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, just feel a little congested. I’ll send Y/N out on her first mission for some meds after we get settled in the hotel.” Josh answers, and you keep yourself pressed against the van’s window, purposefully turning your back to him. Can’t have that again. You realize, though, that of course she’ll be in the same hotel as you, management always is.

The vision of a worried Y/N replays in your mind, seeing her face full of concern as the fans did all but ambush you earlier. You shake the thought, suddenly having a realization that, most likely, everyone else is having, too.

“I think we should amp up security,” you blurt. “No offense to Dean, but he’s only one guy. There are more than ten of us…” you’re met with a little bit of silence, so you press on. “Just while we’re over here, at least. We’re going to be separated a lot, and I think it would be a good idea if Dean wasn’t being pulled in all different directions.”

“Don’t you think we should have thought of that before we got over here, Jake?” Josh counters.

“I’ve actually been thinking it for a while. Today just…made me feel like it’s necessary, now,” you respond quietly. What could it hurt? You have the funds, and a few extra eyes on you and your team couldn’t be a bad thing.

You hear a collective sigh from your brothers, until Sam finally speaks. “Yeah, I kinda felt a little overwhelmed when I dropped my phone and it got kicked away from me. First world problems, I know, but—”

“But someone could have picked it up, and ran off with it. Gotten access to your private information. Stepped on it and shattered it. We’re probably just paranoid, but I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad idea…” you suggest.

“I like the idea.” Josh adds. “Wish we would have talked about it sooner, but I’m sure Paul could get something arranged for us. Those security companies are always looking for overseas gigs.”

“Daniel, you agree?” you ask, twisting your body to the backseat.

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he decides.

“Good. It’s settled, then. We’ll talk to Paul first thing in the morning,” you say, happy with your decision of bringing it up. All you can see is a memory of Y/N’s scared face replaying over and over in your mind, and you just can’t seem to shake it.

You quickly curse yourself, you’re in no headspace to be worrying about a woman right now. You’ve gotta keep your head on straight. Tour hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already letting a new girl give you butterflies. You audibly scoff at yourself as you lean your elbow on the window, looking out at the bustling streets outside. You throw your earbuds in, letting the tangle of cords just be what it is, and you pull your phone out to switch the volume up. Of course, Alt-J pops onto your screen the second you look at it, and you wonder if she’s already listening to them, too.

The city lights are twinkling through the light drizzle of rain, and you finally feel your bones starting to settle into tiredness. Though your mind is racing with excitement to play shows, you let yourself ignore the thoughts and relax into the music blessing your ears. Some room service and a down comforter is calling your name.

—--

HER POV

The shrill sound of your hotel room telephone wakes you from a half-sleep. What the hell? What time is it? You don’t remember falling asleep, but the loud TV and the lights still illuminating the room signify you must have accidentally dozed off.

“Hello?” you answer, realizing that no matter the time, duty calls.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Paul. Sorry if I woke you…”

“No, you’re fine. I’m awake,” you lie.

“Cool. Um, Josh was wondering if you’d run to the pharmacy down the street and pick up the meds I just texted you. He said he would go get them himself, but he’s doing a lung steaming treatment or… something. I dunno. But if you don’t care, here’s your first assignment! I know it’s late, but the pharmacy is apparently open all night.”

You glance at your watch and see that it’s already nearing 1:00AM. “Sure! I don’t care at all. Tell him I’ll have them to him ASAP.”

“Will do. Hey, turn your location on for me and Wes, okay? Be safe, thanks again,” Paul hangs up the phone before you can say goodbye, and within seconds you’re crawling out of bed and putting your pants back on. Your stomach growls as you realize you fell asleep without eating anything. You make a plan to make a quick trip to the pharmacy, deliver Josh his medicine, then go back out to find something to eat before you end up eating the bag of peanuts you stuffed in your bag on the plane.

You take a second to check your messages, finding you have three unread messages from Ruth. In the mess and confusion of the day, and the time difference, you’ve been thrown for a loop. You shoot her a quick few texts to let her know you’re alive and well, but you leave out the sweet little detail that you’d shared AirPods with the guitarist of the band you’re touring with. You’d get into that part later.

The walk to the pharmacy is short, thankfully, and you find the things Josh needs without much of an issue at all. The city is still fairly crowded with people at this hour, and you make sure to track your steps backward just the way you came to get back to the hotel. Your stomach rumbles again, and the smells coming from the various restaurants around you have your head spinning with hunger.

A few quiet knocks on Josh’s hotel room door bring him to answer it within seconds, and his warm composure instantly makes you feel welcome. “Y/N! Thank you so much, seriously. I need to knock this shit out before it gets any worse, and I think you just saved the day,’ he gushes as you see clouds of steam pouring out of his cracked bathroom door, and smell the sweet scent of herbal fragrances as they waft through your nose. “You have any trouble finding the place? Google said it was close by…”

“Anytime, Josh. And no, actually. It was right around the corner,” you answer, handing him the bag of meds.

“Good. Well I won’t bother you again, you heading to sleep?” he asks with a warm tone.

You bite the inside of your lip as your stomach screams at you again. “No, I passed a little pub on my walk, and it smelled amazing as I walked by. Think I’m gonna go have a drink and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Go feed yourself, love. Enjoy the city. We’ve got a long day tomorrow!”

“Will do, see you tomorrow!” you say as he closes the door.

“Thanks again! See ya!”

You make your way to the elevator and down to the bottom floor, digging your phone out of your pocket to check your location and make sure the pub is still going to be open at this hour. A quick search for Le Marmitone tells you the kitchen doesn’t close for another hour, so you pick up your pace and head straight for the pub.

The wind and rain have picked up a little bit, and you thank yourself for adding a few layers on before you left your hotel room earlier. The cold air bites at your cheeks as you meander through the people still out walking the streets, and the smell of the food drifting on the wind draws you straight back to the pub. Upon entering the double doors, you find that it is actually a nice restaurant with a bar.

You grab a seat at the corner of the bar, glancing to the coolers and shelves to see what your drink options are.

“Evening madame, here is a menu. Can I get you a beverage?” a man in a sport coat asks as he hands you the shiny white menu. His accent is thick, but you can understand him fairly easily.

“Hello. Could I have a whiskey soda and a water, please?” you ask as you remove your heavy jacket and hang it over the back of the stool. You look over the menu choices and decide on a bowl of soup and a sandwich, more of a lunch option, but a steaming hot bowl of soup sounds exactly like what you need right now.

There are a few people still scattered throughout the restaurant, most closing their tabs and leaving for the night. There are a few patrons still at the bar, stuck in conversations with one another or watching whatever game is playing on the big screen.

The bartender sets your drinks in front of you as you tell him your food order, and you pull out your phone to begin fishing through emails and making your daily checklists. The Whiskey drink is strong, but not too strong, and you let yourself enjoy the immediate warmth it sends coursing through your veins.

You fill your stomach up as far as it will allow you, and you decide that one more drink probably won’t hurt, as the place doesn’t close up for another hour. You’re enjoying yourself, basking in the calm before the storm that is going to hit promptly at 10AM tomorrow.

“‘Scuse me, sir. I’ll take one more drink and my check, please,” you alert the bartender. He nods and turns to concoct your drink and print your tab. When he returns, he plops a bright red maraschino cherry onto the top.

“Gentleman at the end of the bar says this one is on him, ma’am.” He places the white slip of paper in front of you as he removes your dishes, and disappears. Your eyes slowly drift to the left, landing on an older gentleman who had been lingering at the end of the bar since you’d gotten here. His friends have since left, leaving him to finish off a few more rounds by himself.

He smiles hard when you notice him, and slides off his stool, stumbling his way toward you. You feel your heart rate pick up as he approaches you, and you remember that you do have mace in your purse, should you need it, Ruth’s one request.

“Hello, lovely. Enjoy that drink on me this evening,” he slurs with a heavy accent. He sits down in the stool beside you, and suddenly you’d rather not have that second drink, after all. You glance at the drink, and back to him, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in his presence.

“Um, thank you, really. But I—I’ve actually got to go. It’s getting to be later than I thought…” you lie, pulling out some cash from your purse to pay the bill.

“Nonsense! Have the drink, beautiful. Tell me, where are you from? Your accent tells me it’s somewhere far away from here…” he presses, pushing the drink toward you. His hands are giant, and covered in dark hair. He has a beard of the same color that reaches almost down to his stomach, and you can smell the alcohol radiating from his breath.

“The States,” you say bluntly, avoiding eye contact with him as the bartender is nowhere to be found. You immediately kick yourself for not telling Dean where you had run off to, all by yourself. You know better than this.

“Obviously, sweetheart. But where?” he asks.

“Um, a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it,” you go on, beginning to pull your jacket on and leave the money on the bar top. Suddenly the man’s hand is on the back of the stool, holding it steady as you try to turn it.

“I’d like to hear all about it, love,” he growls, and you suddenly feel very intimidated. There is no one else around, no other patrons at the bar, you couldn’t feel the presence of another human or employee running about, and you contemplated making a run for it.

“I promise I’m not here to scare you, just talk. That’s all I’d like to do…” he goes on, backing his hand away from the chair as he notices your panic. Finally, the bartender makes his way back, but instead of taking your check, he continues cleaning and re-stocking for the night. You’re alone, and uncomfortable. Why did you do this to yourself?

Suddenly you remember that Jake put his number in your phone. You know you can’t get a hold of Dean at this hour, especially since you didn’t tell him you were going anywhere. You can’t make that bad of a first impression before your first day even really happens.

You quickly turn your attention to your phone, trying to figure out what to do, but then it hits you. You type in the name, taking a deep breath before sending Jake a risky text as a last ditch effort.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, hmm?” the man asks as you turn away from him to type as quickly as you can.

You

1:47AM: Jake, are you awake?

Your foot taps nervously on the floor, the man next to you doing everything in his power to corner you into this seat. A text bounces back after a minute, and you feel your shoulders relax just a touch.

Jake 🗡

1:49AM: How did you get this number?

You

1:50AM: You put it in my phone today on the plane. Are you busy?

Jake 🗡

1:51AM: Oh, hey. No, I’m just getting ready to go to bed, why what’s up? You okay?

You

1:52AM: No. I don’t think so. I hate to ask this, I know it’s late. Is there any way you could come meet me? I left to get something to eat and didn't tell anyone and this guy here has me cornered into my seat and I don't think he is gonna let me leave alone.

Jake 🗡

1:53AM: Share your location, I’m leaving now.

You

1:54AM: Thank you. I owe you.

“Did you hear me sweetheart? I said, are you expecting someone?” the man asks, a sly grin on his face as he leans closer to you.

You quickly glance back down at your phone, sharing your location with Jake and hoping he can find you. You lock your phone and put it in your purse, pretending you’re a lot less anxious than you actually are.

“Actually, yes, I am. My…boyfriend is on his way. He’ll be here in just a second.” you lie, doing your best to speak confidently. “I should probably step outside to meet him.”

“No, no, stay, you haven’t touched your drink,” he says, gesturing to the glass of alcohol. “I know a place down the street, stays open late, too.”

You feel your skin start to grow clammy, the man's intentions suddenly becoming very clear. Your heart is pounding as you try to talk your way out of the situation. You clear your throat, and just as you start to speak you see the front door of the restaurant open. Jake steps inside, looking side to side, his eyes quickly scanning the entirety of the restaurant until he locks eyes with you.

He nods to the host at the door as he walks toward you, wearing the same clothes from earlier but now his hair is a little messier. You know he got out of bed to do this.

You instantly stand from your seat as Jake steps up, reaching towards him as he settles himself between you and the man.

“Hey baby, you finally made it,” you coo, your pleading eyes locked on Jake’s as he wraps his arm around your shoulder in a welcoming hug. You can smell him, the cologne lingering on his coat. The same coat that was wrapped around you only hours ago.

He pulls away and drops his arms to his side as you turn to him. You stare at him just a second longer, hoping he can hear the words you are screaming in your mind. He blinks and turns to look at the man before letting his eyes flick back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, of course babe, sorry I was late,” he pauses, turning to face the drunk man beside him. “Who is this?”

You let out a small breath of relief as he silently agrees to play along with you. “Oh, he came over from the bar. He sent this drink over, but I just can’t drink it. I already had one and you know I work in the morning,” you answer, hoping he is understanding what you’re trying to say. “Do you want it?”

He looks so effortless standing there with a hand in his jacket pocket. He tilts his head and scrunches his nose just a bit before answering, “Ahh, nah…It looks like a watered down well pour and I just had one myself before I got here. I’m alright. We should probably get going though, we have an early day tomorrow and it’s fairly late already.”

Yes.

“Oh, you two are terrible liars. He isn’t your boyfriend, is he sweetheart?” the man asks, scoffing at Jake. “You should come with me, I can show you the city better than this fool.”

“That’s an awfully brazen assumption, sir, I must say.” Jake argues, pulling his hand from his coat pocket and grabbing yours. You suck in a harsh breath feeling his fingers lace with yours. Fake or not, there was definitely a new feeling swirling through your veins.

“Look at her, she’s flustered. This woman hasn’t ever been touched by you. It’s written all over her face.” he continues, looking Jake over.

“Your boyfriend, your husband, he isn’t any of those things. I don’t see a ring on your finger, and I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in this country, you my dear, are fair game.”

You want to snap back. The audacity is astounding. You start to step forward, ready to lay into him, but you feel Jake’s hand squeeze yours and you know he’s telling you to follow his lead this time.

“She is with me, sir,” Jake spits. “And it would be in your best interest to back off.”

“Oh, is that right?” the man counters, standing up from his seat, giving him a few good inches over Jake. Jake didn’t falter though. Of course he didn’t. He knew that didn’t matter.

“Kiss her, then. If she’s yours, kiss her,” he quips.

“Absolutely not, I don’t have to prove anything to you, and quite frankly sir, it’s none of your business,” Jake snaps, you can tell he’s starting to get mad, his hand gripping yours a little harder. “Let’s go, babe.”

You stand firm next to him, not letting your face show a single waiver of emotion as the man waits to see if you’ll crack. Jake starts to walk away pulling you behind him, but before you can move the man grabs your other arm, taking both of you by surprise.

“Stay, sugar. Let a real man take you home.”

Jake snaps his head around, hearing the words fall from the man's drunken mouth. For a minute you’re scared. You don’t know how Jake is going to react, his jaw is hard set and his nostrils flared in anger. You hear him curse under his breath as he shakes his head.

“You know what? Fuckin’ fine…” he challenges, looking at the man then to you, nodding just enough for you to notice.

Just as you feel the anxiety of what he is about to do bloom in your chest, he reads your body language, letting a sweet and quiet ‘S’okay’ slip from his lips.

Your eyes widen a little as you realize what’s about to happen, but take solace in the fact that he’s likely just as nervous as you are. He stops, pulling you in towards him as his hand grabs at your waist.

His fingers grip into your hairline as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your lips, hot and wet as your hands slide up his body to rest on his chest. You kiss him back, you’re trying to sell this as the real thing, but also partly because you just want to. You try not to think about that part too much as you let your tongue flick against his just for a second before pulling it back. You feel the vibration on your lips as the softest groan leaves his mouth just as he pulls away from you.

Your lips are wet with the taste of him and your chest is heaving as Jake rubs his lips together and clears his throat. He turns to the man who is standing there staring at the two of you, a bit of challenge in his tone as he speaks. “You good now?”

The man scoffs, mumbling a curse as he bats at the air between you. You feel yourself relax in Jake’s grip as the man turns to walk back to his original place at the bar. A quiet ‘fuck’ leaves Jake’s mouth as he turns his attention back to you, stepping back and releasing his grip on you.

His eyes search yours just as yours search his, both of you unsure what to say. Instead he looks over to the man again, nodding his head to him as he grabs your hand again and guides you towards the door.

“You okay?” he asks, opening the door and letting you walk out into the drizzle. You pull your jacket closed across your front, the cold air chilling your skin.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you– for that,” you murmur as he steps up next to you. He grabs your hand again, lacing his warm fingers with your cold ones, taking you by surprise.

“Oh, it’s okay now Jake, he isn’t following us,” you offer, looking over your shoulder to check. He doesn’t drop your hand though, in fact you feel his fingertips brush across your knuckles, sending a whole different kind of chill through your body.

“I know,” he answers, smiling shyly as he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re positive he can see the blush that has taken over your cheeks, your mouth suddenly dry, and your mind unable to form a response. You feel the butterflies swirling around in your stomach as you walk towards the hotel, the rain starting to taper off finally.

“You can trust me, you know,” he says, his voice sincere as he guides you around puddles.

“I barely know you, Jake,” you smile, bumping your shoulder into his.

“For now,” he answers, squeezing your hand in his.

He opens the door to the hotel lobby, the warm air instantly hitting you. Jake drops your hand, your fingertips brushing against his. You kind of miss it, in a way you definitely shouldn’t be.

“Thank you again, for doing all of that. I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I won’t make that mistake again,” you say, watching him press the button for the elevator. Your eyes linger on his lips, a little pink from the cold air outside.

“It was no problem, I promise. Stop apologizing,” he pauses, motioning for you to step into the elevator. “Let me walk you to your room, what floor?” he asks, his finger hovering over the buttons.

“Oh, no it’s really okay, you don’t have to do that. I promise I’m good now,” you stammer, watching his lips turn up in a huff of laughter.

“Y/N, what floor?”

“Nine,” you squeak, your eyes fixated on the dimple in his cheek. You feel your skin growing warm just from looking at him, you feel like you might burst into flames just at the thought of how his lips felt on yours. Did you imagine that whole encounter? No way all of that just happened.

“Me as well,” he says, pressing the button as the doors close.

The two of you ride up in silence, casting each other the occasional glance every few seconds. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you're positive you stopped breathing. The elevator chimes as it reaches the ninth floor, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound.

He smiles at you again as the doors open, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. “Your room number?”

“Um, I think I'm 924, all the way down,” you answer, your heart jumping in your chest.

He nods his head and puts a hand into his pocket. “Alright, I’m just up here in 915, but I’ll walk you down.”

“Jake you really don’t have to, you can just–”

He turns to you and laughs, shaking his head again. “Just let me.”

“Fine.” You huff a breath, pulling your own keycard from your purse. He walks only a step behind you, both hands in his pockets now as you step up to your door. You tap your key to the lock and hear it beep, signaling for you to enter. You turn to look at Jake, seeing a softness to his face you hadn’t noticed until now.

“Thank you, for…being such a gentleman,” you say playfully, smiling at him.

“My pleasure, Miss Y/N. There is some chivalry left in the world…” he answers, bringing his hand up to rub at his lips.

You start to enter your room, and hear him speak again, this time very quietly. “We’re not all bad.”

You turn around to see him shifting his weight still rubbing his fingers over his chin as if he expected you not to hear him.

“What?”

He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, clearly shocked you heard him. You can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Maybe you’ve spooked him.

He shakes his head with a smile, as if telling himself whatever he wanted to say was stupid. He pulls his phone and his keycard from his pocket and grips them in his hand. “Nothing, nothing, um, have a good evening. I will see you in the morning, I suppose.”

You nod once, giving him a sweet and appreciative smile, “See you in the morning.”

He lingers for just a moment, eyes locked on yours before flicking down to your lips. He catches himself and looks back at you before turning to head down the hallway. You shut the hotel room door and twist the lock, letting out the breath you had been holding with a gasp.

You spin around, letting your back press against the door as you sink down to the floor with a barely audible squeal. Holy. Shit. What the hell was that?

Pull yourself together Y/N.

You grab your purse and stand up, digging through it as fast as you can in search of your phone. You have no earthly idea what time it is in Nashville but you don’t care as you pull up your texts with Ruth, and begin furiously typing.

You

2:34AM: Without going into detail I definitely just kissed the guitarist 🫢

You toss your bag onto the chair and change into your pajamas, your blood still rushing around in your body as you try to calm your nervous system. A text bounces back, and you know it’s her.

Ruth

2:40AM: WITHOUT GOING INTO DETAIL???? KISSED? I just got to my desk!!!! I’m here. I’m sat. I’m listening. I want every single detail in a five paragraph essay with MLA formatting.

You

2:42AM: Lol it is 2:40 in the morning. I will call you tomorrow, which is really still today for you, but kinda tomorrow for me? I don’t know this is confusing but I will call you and give you the full run down because we also shared airpods on the plane and he made me a playlist? Love you goodnight!

Ruth

2:44AM: AIRPODS? A PLAYLIST??????

2:45AM: Y/N NO! GET BACK HERE

2:45AM: Okay. Hang on, I’m googling him. I need to see this man’s face

2:46AM: Wait there’s two guitarists

2:46AM: Ok one is the bassist HELLO?? You kissed HIM?! Aldjsfklsk

2:48AM: It’s totally fine and I am being so normal about this. Talk to you later, if I haven’t pulled all my hair out by then! I’ll be creeping his insta all day! Goodnight!

You laugh as you read her onslaught of messages, knowing that she is likely going out of her mind with possible scenarios. You make your way into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth so that you can positively melt into the bed and sleep until your alarm forces you awake. You’re patting your face dry as your phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, but the noise it makes isn’t one you’re familiar with. You hang the towel on the ring and pick up your phone, seeing a notification come through that is brand new to you.

‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

He what?

Now?

Your blood runs cold just seeing his name on your phone after…well…whatever that was.

You turn off the bathroom light, hesitantly sliding your finger across the notification, and letting it bring up the playlist. There at the very bottom you see that a new song was added two minutes ago. But not just any song, no. You know this one. You know this one well. You tap on the song hearing the familiar and haunting guitar riff of ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer start to play through your phone speakers.

You can’t help but to laugh, a smile of shock has your jaw hanging wide open as you stand in your giant fancy hotel room, listening to what you consider to be a fairly romantic song sent straight to you from none other than your knight in shining, well, corduroy, armor. You couldn’t even picture him listening to this song, and somehow that almost made it a little better.

As the chorus plays you fall backwards onto your bed, the fluffy white sheets enveloping you as a giddy feeling swirls through your chest. He’s thinking about me. He’s thinking about that kiss. You felt guilty for thinking about it, but now? Now you weren’t feeling so guilty. He liked it just as much as you did, clearly.

Jake Kiszka liked kissing you.

You.

What?

You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of your face if you had to. You didn’t want to. This was quite possibly the most thrilling thing that has happened to you in months. Years! You had all but forgotten about creepy bar man at this point, but god you have half a mind to walk right back into that bar and shake his hand.

But, you knew you had to calm down. Take a breath. The song came to a close, leaving the hotel room silent. Your mind was still swimming in bliss, replaying the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands held yours, the way he smelled, the way his lips tasted, oh god… He was thinking about your kiss. He all but told you so.

You were also thinking about that kiss. He wanted you to know he was thinking about it. How can you– Oh. A sly grin spreads across your face as you type into the search bar.

You find the song you’re looking for, your thumb hovering over the add button as you try to talk yourself out of doing this. It could end badly, terribly, really. He is technically your boss, and you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but. Hey, you’re just the runner. You smile as you watch the little box pop up reading ‘Added’.

Your heart starts to pound. Did he get a notification? Is he asleep? Did he see it? Will he understand? Since when did you start communicating with people through song titles?

You rush back to the playlist scrolling to the bottom and smiling as you press play on the new addition to your shared playlist. It's mere seconds before ‘Do It Again’ by Steely Dan starts to play and you laugh, knowing you are absolutely crazy. Do it again, of course you wanted to do it again. God he probably thinks you’re such a loser. Plot twist, you are, but he doesn't have to know that yet.

You listen to the song, plugging your phone into the charger and turning off the lamp. You’ve always loved Steely Dan, it reminds you of your dad, but then again who doesn’t it remind of their dad? The song comes to a close, your giddy feeling finally starting to wear off as the exhaustion starts to step into its place. Your eyes feel heavy as you roll towards the nightstand to set your alarm, groaning at how soon it’s coming. You lock your phone and settle into the pillows, letting out a content sigh as you recap the day in all of its insane glory.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the glow illuminating the room for just a brief second. You freeze as you stare up at the ceiling, almost too scared to look. Did he add another song? What if he changed his mind? What if you overstepped? Oh god. You should not have done that. What were you thinking?

You suck in a breath as you grab your phone, nervously tapping the screen that shows no new songs added, but a text from Jake.

Jake 🗡

3:04AM: I fully intend to.

Oh, he definitely saw it.

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rinneverse · 1 month

Note

bye this is like my 3rd ask abt penacony men i’m so sorry guys .. i hope you really don’t mind me sending asks abt this <3 /gen

listen imagine boothill n gallagher bro 😭❌ whole other level igs not even that funny anymore … LIKEEEE compared 2 aventurine n sunday they’re acc more wilder istg they be eating u out at the most random places ever (yeehaw ig)

and like … this seems a lil goofy but look me straight in the eyes and tell me aventurine wouldn’t use the forbidden tongue n fingering combo on u while u order sum shi on door dash or sumn 😭🙏 struggling 2 keep ur voice stable LMAOO he’s literally a menace istg

omg don't be sorry in the slightest i do not mind at all!! i love seeing u in my inbox <33 putting everything undr a cut bc i got kind of out of hand >//////<

cw for gallagher / boothill / aven x f!reader (all separate), cunnilingus, fingering, overstim mention etc etc :p

gallagher... he's got experience. lots of it. i know he can make u cry from his tongue ALONE I KNOW IT IN MY BONES. he talks you through it too: long, thick fingers pumping into your pussy while he murmurs in that gravelly voice of his in your ears. "yeah, you like it when i do that? how about right here? you gonna cum for me?" he's so sexy he awakens something in me it's crazy.

and boothill... he can genuinely go for hours. like, he doesn't care that ur overstimulated and he's been eating u out for what feels like forever. he likes seeing you become a mess under his ministrations and he won't stop until he feels like it (which potentially could be never.. but he likes seeing u cum on his cock too, so he doesn't mind). he also has no regard for being in public so whenevr he gets the urges he'll just tug u into the nearest bathroom, mount u on the sink, and sink to his knees. he likes when u wears skirts/dresses for easy access <3

aven... he is a fucking menace. u could be on an important phone call for all he cares and he's kneeling between your legs, pawing at ur pretty cunt while u give him a Look. he doesn't care, though. he'll push ur panties to the side and go at it like a man STARVED. and don't even get me started on his rings while he fingers you... good heavens

#oakie answers #maryse <3 #boothill smut #gallagher smut #aventurine smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #☆ oakie writes

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lipglossanon · 3 months

Text

In Heaven, Everything is Fine

╔═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╗

Dark stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (finale)

Hello, hello 👋

This is the finale of dark stepdad! I’m trying to wrap up some of these little storylines since I want to write, well, other stories lol. Not saying I’ll never write about him again, just the ‘main’ story is now over and done with.

Posted on ao3 first since I was on a tumblr break lol

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, daddy kink, Leon being nice to reader (with ulterior motives of course), character death, grief, kissing, dirty talk, slight nipple play, praise, pussy spanking, collaring, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh fucking

Title from a song of the same name in the movie Eraserhead

part ii

╚═════ °• ♔ •° ═════╝

It was an accident. That’s what the officer at the front door relayed to you. A freak car accident that left you motherless in the blink of an eye. Lucky for you, Leon was standing behind you and heard it at the same time so no need to repeat the awful news. He seemed even more shocked than you.

“What do you mean? How did it happen?”

The officer only offered a very generic answer of a drunk driver jumping the median and hitting your mom head on and killing her instantly, like that’s any consolation. In disbelief, you wandered away to the living room to sit down on the couch, letting Leon and the officer talk.

It’s been three weeks now since the funeral, (closed casket because you couldn’t bear anyone else to see your mom in that state). You’ve been roaming the house like a ghost. Barely eating and drinking. Leon has been working overtime in trying to manage everything on his own. Secretly, you feel like he owes you that much. Your fucked up relationship with him has morphed into Leon being an actual caretaker in regards to your needs. It’s not too unexpected, but you didn’t think he would be as considerate as he has been.

It’s routine now for you to fall asleep on the couch and wake up in his bed, too tired to go to your room, letting yourself fall back to sleep next to him. Truthfully, you sleep a lot now; you know it’s not a healthy way to cope with your grief, but you also don’t give a fuck. Your mom’s dead. Your dad’s too busy to give you the time of day. Hell, he only sent a wreath of mourning to the funeral and a quick phone call of apologies to you for not being there.

Leon is truly the only person you can rely on right now and he’s been doing phenomenal, surprising you when you actually think about it and not battling the sadness threatening to overwhelm you. He’s also kept to himself aside from trying to get you to eat or drink. You know financial and legal matters have taken up a lot of his time, but even when he has moments to himself, he’s in his office on the phone with his work colleagues sorting out issues while he’s on a leave of absence.

Months pass in this way. You eventually pull yourself out of the miasma you’ve been sucked into, the grief not growing any smaller but you yourself growing around it. When the time comes to go back to class, you opt into taking the semester off. You stay at home and slowly start organizing your mother’s belongings. Leon helps if you ask, but it’s mostly you deciding on what you want to keep and what you’d like to store until you’re ready to part with it.

Another month of crying over knick-knacks and clothes, you finally finish up sorting everything you feel needs to be stored. Looking for Leon, you eventually find him in his office. You hover in his doorway and watch how his shoulder blades flex under his button down while he wraps up a phone call.

“I know, everything was moved up due to the accident. I didn’t have anything in place. I did have to change my plans, but it all worked out in the end, didn’t it? She’s—“

Leon pauses and turns to see you at the door.

“Let me call you back. Yeah.”

He places his phone down onto the desk and steeples his fingers as he leans his elbows onto the oaky top.

“Did you need something, beautiful?”

“It’s finished,” you gesture vaguely to the second floor, “I have everything sorted for tomorrow.”

He nods and grabs his phone, “I’ll email the moving company to let them know we’re ready for pickup.”

You sigh shakily, “Thanks, Leon.”

He gives you a tight smile, “It’s no problem. Are you hungry?”

Looking down at your feet, you watch as you wiggle your toes in their socks, “Not really.”

“You need to eat,” he stands up from his desk, tucking his phone into his pocket, “let’s head into the kitchen and find something.”

You lean into his warm frame as he steps up next to you, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmur into his chest, tears beading your lash line, “it would be worse without you here.”

Tensing, he freezes up for a second before he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’ll always take care of you,” he kisses the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

He keeps an arm wrapped around you, pressing you into his side as you both walk to the kitchen. Guiding you to sit down at the countertop, he turns and begins rifling through the cabinets. With sudden clarity, you realize this is the first time since it all happened that you’ve sought him out. He’s been really present and patient with you while you navigate the death of your mom—just a steadfast presence in the background.

Tears slip from your lashes and you wipe them away by the time he turns back to you.

“Do you— what’s wrong?”

He walks over to you and cups your face with his big hands, thumbs rubbing away the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“I-I,” you smile even though it’s watery, heart fluttering in your chest like a bird, “I’m so thankful you’re here is all.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, eyes blank and unreadable, “you’re my special girl.”

He dips down and presses a featherlight kiss against your lips making you gasp. It’s the first time he’s shown any affection of this kind in months and it makes your fingers tingle and your stomach warm. Before he pulls away, your hands snag into his button down and pull him back in for another kiss. You’ve missed the physical connection you had with him before this whole ordeal.

“Beautiful,” he groans against your mouth, kissing you hungrily, hands going down to grab your hips and squeeze, “ my perfect pretty girl.”

“Leon,” you whimper, cunt throbbing with need that’s been lying forgotten and dormant for months on end, “daddy, please .”

“Are you sure?” He kisses a hot trail down your neck, nipping the sensitive skin.

“Yes, please,” you whine, hands tangling in his hair, “take me to bed.”

He growls and scoops you up in a bridal carry, quickly moving you upstairs to his bedroom and setting you down on the bed. Kissing you heatedly, he pins you down with his broad body, grinding his bulge into your clothed cunt. Pulling back, he helps you shimmy out of your sweats and underwear, watching with dilated eyes as clear strings of slick spider web between the gusset of your panties and your glistening pussy.

He finishes undressing you and then moves on to himself, tossing his clothes in a heap next to the bed before pressing his hot throbbing cock against your mound.

“Oh,” you gasp, rocking your hips up to feel the drippy head of his dick rub against your swollen clit.

“Wait,” Leon moves to the side to open up the nightstand and pulls out the buttery faux leather collar he bought for you ages ago.

He holds it out to you yet you shy away. You love the feeling you have when wearing it, but that plate with cursive writing is just too much for you to look at right now. It might seem silly, but sometimes the oddest things set you off and this happens to be one of them.

“It’s a lot,” your eyes dart away from the gold tag.

Leon notices and smoothly unclips it to tuck it back into the drawer. Your brows pinch together for a moment, but then you nod face smoothing into a small smile.

“Okay,” you move closer and Leon clips the collar around your neck.

“We’ll save the mommy tag for later,” he soothes, running his hands across your neck, fingers gliding down your clavicles to drag down the stiff peaks of your breast.

A small pang of hurt twinges in your chest, but Leon chases it away with pleasure as he teases your nipples with his fingers.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimper, pressing your chest out so he can tug harder on your nipples.

“You’re very welcome,” he coos, kissing the apple of your cheek, “such a sweet girl for me today.”

“Missed you,” you sigh out as he pinches your sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger, “feels so good.”

“Seem extra sensitive,” Leon murmurs, squeezing your breasts before rolling the hard buds between his fingers until you’re moaning softly.

He ducks his head down to lick across a hard nipple, pressing a kiss on the puckered skin of your areola.

“So sexy,” he groans, hands groping and squeezing the fat of your breasts, fingers tweaking your nipples to watch you shiver, “love playing with your cute tits.”

He latches on to a nipple and groans as he suckles while your fingers tangle in his sandy blonde hair.

“ Daddy ,” you keen in your throat, fingers tugging at his hair as he nips and sucks at your hard buds.

“So good,” he laps the trail of spit dripping off of the swell of your breasts, “can tell you like when I suck your tits, baby.”

You lose yourself to his hot mouth as he licks and sucks at your nipples, his big hands cupping your breasts so he can squeeze them. Shifting in his lap, your cunt leaks slick until it’s soaking your thighs letting you easily rock and grind your mound against his fat dick.

Shifting around, Leon sits with his back against the headboard and pulls you into his lap. You moan as his thick cock parts your pussy lips to grind against your entire cunt.

“Look at you, precious girl,” Leon’s voice oozes praise, making you writhe in his lap, “soaking wet and we’ve barely started.”

“Leon,” you whisper and he hums, eyes still watching as he ruts his cock against your slit.

“C-can you spank my pussy?”

He growls, eyes snapping up to your face, “Yeah? My sweet girl needs her pussy slapped?”

“Uh huh,” you lean back, palms pressed against the tops of his knees to put your slick covered cunt on display right in front of him, “really wanna feel it.”

He groans, gaze flicking down to your twitching clit before dragging back up your body to your needy face.

“Can you stay like that until daddy’s finished?”

You nod your head so fast you're surprised your neck doesn’t hurt.

“Good girl,” he says before bringing the flat of his fingers down onto the hood of your clit.

“Oh god,” you keen, thighs jumping as Leon spanks your clit hard and fast.

Using his other hand, he spreads your pussy lips open so he can spank down on your cunt. After a couple of slaps, each spank of his palm onto your drippy pussy sounds wet and dirty as your hole gushes slick down your ass to drip onto the bed.

“Daddy’s so lucky to have a girl like you, isn’t he, baby?” Leon smirks up at your panting form, “listen to how much your pussy’s missed me.”

“Need you so bad,” you gasp brokenly, humping forward every time Leon slaps your pussy, “please, daddy, want you so much.”

Giving one last rough smack on your clit, he uses his already damp palm to cup your soaked mound.

“I think she’s wet enough that you can sit this sweet pussy down onto my cock,” he smiles, a smug little curve of his mouth that makes your cunt throb, “c’mon, now.”

Nodding, you shakily raise back up into his lap and kneel above his thick length as he drags the head through your wet folds. Pressing the tip into your hole, you both moan as you slowly work his dick deeper and deeper into your clenching heat.

Once he’s balls deep inside you, it makes your pussy clamp down on his fat cock like a vice.

“Baby, you’re going to make me cum,” he grunts in your ear, hands moving up to cup your breasts.

“Not yet, please,” you mewl, “can I sit here just like this?”

Leon groans low in his throat, “Yes, cockwarm me in that tight little pussy. Bet she’s missed daddy’s cock stuffed into her hole, huh?”

You nod quickly, “Missed you so much, ‘m all stretched out.”

He presses his thumb on the hood of your clit and pulls back, showing off the swollen and wet sensitive bundle of nerves. Lightly running his middle finger over your clit, he teases the pudgy bud until you grind down hard into his lap.

“So good, daddy,” you moan, nails digging into his twitching stomach muscles.

He uses his other hand to wrap around your waist, helping you grind your slick pussy onto his thick cock. You slowly pull yourself halfway up his thick length then let yourself drop down on his lap, whimpering as his drippy tip kisses your cervix.

“Don’t push yourself,” he rumbles low in his throat, dragging his fingers against the hood of your slippery clit as his dark eyes stare you down with an unidentifiable emotion.

“I won’t,” you promise softly as tears gather at your lash line, “want you to stretch me on your big cock, want to make you feel good, daddy. Wanna take care of you.”

“My sweet girl,” he soothes, lifting your hips and slowly sinking you back down onto his cock, walls fluttering until he’s buried deep inside of you.

You gasp trying to swallow air as he bullies in and out of your spasming pussy at a slow dragging pace.

“Let me take care of you for now,” he murmurs, eyes dropping down to the collar decorating your neck, “all you have to do is take it, sweetheart.”

“Oh, daddy ,” you moan, hands scratching across his abs, thighs spasming as they squeeze around his hips.

Leon groans and fucks up into your sopping wet cunt, making your breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts while your mouth gapes open as you draw in haggard breaths.

“My pretty perfect girl just needs daddy taking care of her, huh?” his grip on your hip becomes bruising as he teases your clit softly with the other before moving that hand up to tug on a hard nipple.

“Uh huh,” you squirm on his lap, clit throbbing for him to touch you again, “daddy takes such good care of me.”

He hums and keeps teasing your nipples before reaching up to loop a finger through the front of the collar, “You’re going to let me handle everything from now on.”

You nod jerkily, dislodging Leon’s hand from your collar making him drag his hand back down to your swollen clit. He surges up to messily lick past your lips, sucking on your tongue before filling your mouth with his own. Pulling away, he messily kisses down to your neck, teeth sinking into the skin above your collar making you whimper and rock down against him.

“Daddy, s’good,” you mewl wantonly, nails scratching along his pecs making him buck harder into you.

“I know,” he croons, making your cunt clench around his dick, “mmm, you and that cute pussy love the way daddy takes care of you.”

Whining, you bounce your ass faster, feeling dizzy with want at the low possessive tone coloring Leon’s voice.

He picks up the pace, cock thrusting up into you harderand harder , grinding against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt every time he slips inside. He moves the hand gripping your waist around to grasp the fat of your ass, helping you bounce on his dick. The other continues to rub your pudgy clit with soft barely there touches that drives your arousal higher.

“Leon,” you moan, pussy clenching down on his thick cock, eyes fluttering as the pleasure builds.

“Are you getting close, sweet girl?” he coos, “this pretty little pussy keeps getting tighter and tighter. Needed this so badly, didn’t she?”

“Yes, yes!” You moan, hips stuttering and messing up your rhythm, “daddy, please, ‘m so close!”

“I’ve got you,” he slips out of your soaked cunt and eases you down onto your back, the sheets warm against your skin from Leon’s imprint.

Spreading your thighs, he kneels between your legs and guides his fat dick back into your twitching hole. His eyes watch your pussy greedily suck his cock back in with every short thrust until his pelvis is flush against yours.

He grabs your legs and places them over his shoulders, letting him lower himself down, forearms boxing in your head. You gasp out a whimper as the new angle has Leon’s cock pressed up against your cervix. He waits a beat and you slowly relax your tense muscles as that sharp bite of pain transforms into pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses the apple of your cheeks before taking your lips in a sloppy spit filled kiss that makes your pussy clamp down on his cock, “daddy’s good girl.”

“‘m yours,” you choke on a gasp as he pulls out to bully his dick back into your warm wet cunt, “my pussy’s yours. All of me is yours.”

Leon’s hips rabbit into your squelching pussy as he groans at your, unknown to you, damning words.

“Say it again,” he growls down at you, hands squeezing your thighs as he keeps you pressed open for his hungry gaze.

“I belong to you. ‘M all yours, daddy,” you babble up at him, tears sticking to your lashes causing them to clump together, “you make me feel so good.”

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” he mutters before rocking his hips down, “going to take such good care of you, keep you safe, give you everything you ever need.”

“Jus’ need you,” you slur as his tip hammers against your g-spot sending sparks of pleasure buzzing through your body.

“Please, Leon— daddy ,” your nails score down his back making him grunt, “w’nna cum, want you to cum in me.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, roughly flicking his thumb on your clit as he grinds into your pussy.

“Going to make you cum for me, baby,” he kisses you again, nipping your bottom lip, “daddy wants to feel you cream all over his cock.”

You shudder as he spanks the first two fingers of his hand down onto the hood of your clit.

“Oh, oh, god,” you toss your head back, body thrashing against the bed, “I’m gonna cum, daddy. You’re gonna make me cum .”

He bites your neck just as his fingers swipe your pudgy clit, tipping you over the edge and sending your hips arching off the bed as pleasure washes over your body. Your walls pulse and flutter around his cock making Leon groan and snap his hips into you harder.

“Feels so good — fuck ,” he groans, burying his cock deep inside your spasming cunt and cumming, hot jizz coating your walls.

His thrusts begin to stutter while he fills your used cunt with rope after rope of thick sticky cum. You feel his cock throb and kick inside your fluttering walls as your pussy keeps milking him for every last drop of cum. He grunts while he continues to finish inside of you.

“There’s so much,” you whisper, loving the feeling of being so full of Leon.

“I’ve been a little backed up, sweetheart,” he kisses you, all dirty and wet, while he finishes stuffing you to the brim.

You sigh when he slowly pulls out, Leon hissing at the sensation. He lays down next to you, pulling you into his arms as you both catch your breaths.

“Thank you,” you tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, “you waited for me and I appreciate it.”

His sea dark eyes watch you as his lips tic up into a little smile.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he kisses the top of your head.

You hum, pleased, and tangle your legs with his, “Can we have dinner later? I’m really tired now.”

“Mmhmm,” he runs his fingers down your back, muscles twitching as you relax even further against him.

It doesn’t take long for you to pass out, snuggled against Leon’s warm chest as he pets you softly.

═════ °• ♔ •° ═════

After you fall asleep, Leon slips away, tugging the blankets up around your naked shoulders before leaving the bedroom. He makes his way downstairs to his office and pulls out the burner phone hidden in a secret drawer of his desk.

He quickly dials a number and drums his fingers along the wood desktop as he waits. A familiar voice finally picks up.

“I’m calling you back,” Leon grins to himself, idly tracing his fingertips across his desk.

“Yeah, everything’s good here. This time next year I think I can talk her into selling the place and we’ll move south, somewhere with a beach I think.”

The voice chatters away on the other line making Leon laugh.

“You’re not wrong. I just can’t believe some complete stranger beat me to the punch,” he frowns down at his knuckles, “kind of wanted to take her out myself for the hell of it, but this way my hands are 100% clean. And it won’t look strange to keep my sweet stepdaughter in my care.”

His blue eyes dart to the closed door as he lets the other man on the line talk.

“Mmhmm. I was just checking in to see if everything’s been taken care of in regards to the father.”

He nods along, the grin blooming into a smirk, “Excellent. No, no need to get rid of him unless he proves to be an obstacle. Sounds like he’s making himself scarce without any prompting which is great.”

Chancing a quick glance to the clock on the wall, he stands up from his desk.

“Great work as usual. I’ll wire the money into the account tonight.”

He hangs up the phone and quickly disassembles it; he runs a magnet over each piece before dropping it all into a small bowl of water he kept off to the side earlier in the evening. Tomorrow, he’ll get rid of it completely but for now he’d rather rejoin you upstairs.

He lets himself daydream about your new life together as he double checks that everything is locked up tight before retiring for the night. Your mom’s death wasn’t planned, at least not in a sense, so it put a bit of a wrench into his plans. However, everything has worked out wonderfully in the long run. Your deadbeat dad is too busy with his own life to give you the time of day leaving Leon the one person you rely upon.

He’s been patiently waiting all of this time, letting you grieve and navigate the death of your mother without his interference, only to reap the benefits now. The way you’re reacting and behaving gives him complete confidence that he’ll be the only one in your life from now on; months from now, when he asks you to be his second wife far away from this place, he’s positive you’ll say yes.

Entering the bedroom, he takes in your sleeping form underneath the sheets and feels that same old hunger stir in his chest. He climbs back into bed and spoons your body from behind. Feeling his cock thicken against your ass, he slips his dick between your thighs, still damp from the activities earlier. Rutting slowly, he gently fucks your thighs as you sigh and squirm in your sleep.

Reaching around, his hands grope your breasts, fingers quickly tweaking and tugging on your puffy nipples.

“Daddy?” Your groggy voice just makes him harder and he rocks forward a little more roughly.

“Just needed to touch you,” he bites your neck and you clamp your thighs together making him groan.

“Inside,” you whine, “please.”

“Shhh,” he nips your ear, “let daddy have his fun.”

Shivering, you moan as Leon teases your nipples while he fucks his cock against your leaking pussy, plush thighs squeezing him just right. As much as he wants to slip right into your hot pussy, he likes making you beg for it.

It’s a slow back and forth as he plays with your tits and makes you soak his cock with slick before he teases the tip against your hole. He’ll never get tired of this, of having you so soft and malleable, all for his enjoyment.

“Oh, please, daddy, please,” you pant, hips pressing back against his, “need you to fuck me, need to feel you so bad.”

Smug satisfaction drips like honey down his spine as he slides the tip of his cock into your soaked hole. He hisses through clenched teeth as your cunt greedily sucks his cock further into your sticky wet walls. Once he bottoms out, he notices how much noise you’re making, cut off little whimpers and moans that has his cock kicking inside your snug cunt.

“ Thank you, thank you, thank you ,” you chant under your breath, bolstering his already inflated ego.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, feeling you clamp down around his dick.

It’s almost too easy he thinks while he thrusts his cock in and out of your squelching pussy. It’s obvious to anyone that you were meant for him, meant for this. Gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, he picks up the pace, fucking into you so hard and fast that you can only gasp and whine.

Reaching around, his fingers circle your clit firmly until your pussy’s clenching rhythmically around his cock as you cum.

“There we go,” he whispers in your ear, “cum on my cock, squeeze daddy’s dick so he can fill you up again.”

He lets you ride it out for a moment before hammering his dick into your spasming pussy. It doesn’t take too long with the way your cunt’s milking his cock for him to spill hot and thick inside your needy pussy for the second time that night.

You sigh happily as he paints your pussy walls white with his sticky cum until it’s dripping out around his cock. Pulling out, he grunts to see globs of jizz ooze from your used pussy.

“My perfect girl,” he kisses the back of your head.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur sleepily, drifting off before he can even clean you up, “love you, Leon.”

His lips twitch up into a wicked grin, “Love you too, beautiful.”

Getting up out of bed, he heads to the en suite bathroom to grab a damp cloth. He returns and gently cleans you up, feeling nothing but pride as he takes in the collar still cinched around your neck. Tossing the washcloth into the hamper, he makes his way back to you. He pulls you into his chest, feeling elated when you snuggle up underneath his chin.

You press a soft feathery kiss against his pecs and hum before drifting into a deeper sleep. Running a hand down your back, a feeling of possessive ownership flares up in his chest. His fingers drift up to the collar, softly rubbing against the clasp. He’ll need to buy you an everyday one now, something that shows you’re all his. Maybe something with his initials. He’ll have to see how you react to the idea first. Dropping his hand to your shoulder, his pinky brushes against the collar and he feels his cock twitch against his thigh.

Deciding to let you sleep a little more before waking you up for a late dinner, he idly traces patterns against your bare skin. This is what it’s going to be like from now on he thinks with almost giddy anticipation. And regardless of what happens from here on out, he knows you’re his forever more.

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy smut #dark stepdad!leon s kennedy #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepcest #dldr #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #au #dark stepdad!leon x fem!reader #dark stepdad!leon x fem!reader smut

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feeder86 · 1 year

Text

Aaron’s Boys

It was the most mundane of settings in which to have the most erotic, real-life conversation of Kieran’ life. There he was, sat in an ordinary coffee bar, across from one of the most handsome men he had ever come across; feeling more blood pumping into his groin than was obviously going into his brain. After all, what other reason could there be for him being there that day, offering himself up like this?

Aaron was opening his notebook, propping one of his feet onto his other knee and breathing in, ready to begin. Unlike Kieran, he seemed completely unaroused by the situation, treating it like nothing more than business. In his mid-twenties, the guy had the prettiest face Kieran had ever seen. His chest was broad and strong, making it obvious to all just how fit and muscular he was. Perhaps that was what made him so alluring; he seemed capable of doing almost anything.

“So, I know we’ve gone over some of these things when we spoke online, but I just want to get some clarity on things before I consider taking you on,” Aaron began, clicking his pen to start writing. “Age?”

“Twenty-one,” Kieran shot back eagarly.

“What is your current weight?” Aaron asked next, already beginning to write the notes down without even looking at him.

“One hundred and forty pounds,” Kieran replied immediately.

“And, does your weight fluctuate? Is that number higher or lower than it's been in the last couple of years, say?”

“It’s stayed that same,” Kieran nodded, hoping that was the answer Aaron wanted.

“Height?”

“Five foot, eleven,” Kieran stated.

“That’s not overly tall, I guess,” Aaron considered, as if trying to convince himself that Kieran would be worth the effort. “Just correct me if I’m wrong, but swimming was your sport, right?” Aaron asked. “You certainly look like you have a swimmer’s build,” he commented, briefly looking up at him to double check.

“Yeah,” Kieran nodded. “I’ve trained since I was little. I did it right through college and I’ve won a few competitions. I was never quite good enough to go professional though,” he shrugged.

“So, would you say that swimming is important to you, or are you happy to give it up?”

“Oh, I’d give it up,” Kieran nodded confidently. “One hundred percent. I’d give it up.”

Aaron nodded as he worte, then looked up at him. “Good,” he commented, with the beginnings of a slight smile on his devilishly handsome face. “That’s the sort of thing I need to hear from you: that level of commitment.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely committed to this,” Kieran jumped in, eager to capitalise on his previous winning answer.

“Now, in terms of your appetite, I know swimmers have to take in a lot of calories when they’re training. Would you say you can eat more, or less than the average person?” He held his hand up, already seeing that Kieran was about to jump in and answer. “I need you to really think carefully about the question,” he cautioned. “Being honest with me is the most important thing here.”

Kieran nodded, taking the advice and downgrading his answer. “I think I can eat, perhaps a little more than the average person.”

“And what types of foods are your favourites?” Aaron asked next, writing faster to try and keep up with everything he wanted to note down.

“Pizzas, fries, hamburgers…” Kieran began listing.

“Would you say that you have a sweet tooth as well?”

“Absolutely,” Kieran smiled. “Doughnuts, ice cream, chocolate…”

“Any foods you don’t like?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “I’m not that keen on cheesecake, I suppose, ”he added, trying to think of something.

“Any allergies?”

“Nothing,” Kieran declared.

There was a pause while Aaron caught up on his notes. “Oaky,” he nodded, finishing the last few words. “This is all good so far. But I need to know more about why you want this. And why now?”

“I’ve always wanted this,” Kieran answered. “For as long as I can remember.”

Aaron gave a slight roll to his eyes. It was clearly an answer that he had been given many times before. “Yes, I get that. But… what makes you different from everyone else? You’re clearly a very handsome boy; a college graduate, steady job. If I took you to a gay bar right now, you could take your pick of all the guys in there. So why have you chosen to go down this path?”

Kieran took a moment. “Because I need to,” he replied, trying let his sincerity shine through his voice. “I need to know what it feels like to jiggle when I walk; to feel my clothes getting tighter and having people comment on my weight.” “You’re quite excited by the idea of people noticing your body changing?” Aaron asked, seemingly pleased to write that particular answer down. “What about name-calling? Pig? Hog? Fatty?”

Kieran felt his dick harden and he wrigged in his seat, trying his best to remember that they were still in public. “I’d love it,” he mumbled.

Aaron stared at him, as if assessing his honesty. He flicked to the back of his notebook, where he clearly had many more questions written down.Then he looked up once more at Kieran and sighed. “All right,” he nodded, clearly deciding that he didn’t need to ask anything else. “I’ll believe you. You certainly seem willing, and just the fact that you turned up today is a pretty good sign. I guess I can take you on.”

Kieran’s face filled with the brightest of smiles and his heart began beating faster than ever before. “Really?” he asked. “You’ll do it?”

“No,” Aaron responded cautiously, scolding him like a small child. “You’ll be the one doing it. I will just be helping you along the way and steering you in the right direction.”

Kieran rubbed his hands across his face, unable to believe that this was all happening in real life. His wildest, most erotic sexual fantasy was about to come true. He was actually going to be fattened by one of the best feeders out there. In no time at all, he would be nothing more than another one of Aaron’s fat boys.

A few hours later, Aaron had arrived at Kieran’s tiny studio apartment. “Is that elevator usually not working?” he asked the moment he was inside, dumping his rucksack on the floor. He was so tall and strapping; he seemed to fill the space with his masculine presence.

“I’ve only been here a few weeks,” Kieran shrugged. “I’ve not seen it working yet.”

“That may be an issue,” Aaron considered, pulling out his notebook and starting to make a note of it. “We may have to factor that into your daily calories.”

“That’s fine,” Kieran smiled, watching the handsome, strong stud begin to walk around the small studio; hardly believing that he had a real-life feeder there with him.

“I’m going to give you a lot of information about the foods you’re going to be getting in for yourself,” Aaron continued, seemingly unimpressed by what was in the cupboards, even actively pulling some things out and putting them straight in the trash. “Are these your scales?” he asked, tapping them dismissively with his foot. “I’ll bring you something a little more accurate when I next visit. These look shit, and I’m going to be relying on a lot of the stats you give me.”

Kieran simply nodded again, swooning as the handsome man casually looked into every cupboard and closet. The hunk chuckled, picking up some of Kieran’s small underwear from the drawer, scoffing at the cut of some of his clothes hanging on the rails.

“You’re not a fan of sweatpants, I see,” Aaron smirked. “That’ll soon change.”

Kieran stood there as Aaron suddenly seemed to round on him, taking an interest in his body for the first time. “Shirt off,” he ordered, stepping back to take a picture.

Kieran did as he was told, pleased that they had at last got to this stage. “Are these my ‘before’ shots?” he asked, as a tent began to form in his crotch.

“They certainly are,” Aaron grinned, beginning to snap away. He instructed Kieran on poses, soon telling him to remove everything he was wearing. The guy shifted lamps around and nudged Kieran’s positions in order to improve the look of the shots he was getting. He didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at how hard Kieran was; just ignoring it entirely.

Pretty soon after that, Aaron was removing his own shirt and getting in on the shots himself, posing by flexing his massive pecs and smiling for the camera next to Kieran, who had never felt more aroused in his entire life. That was, until he saw a half naked Aaron bend down to pick up the rucksack he had brought along with him. Out came a large, cylindrical container of a thick, light brown mixture that Aaron was already shaking up; followed by a small, simple looking funnel that made Kieran’s breath catch in his chest.

“Hey everyone,” Aaron smiled at his cell phone, starting to record another one of his videos that made him such an icon online. “I’m here with a brand new piggy tonight,” he explained, walking backwards so that Kieran entered the screen with him. “He’s a swimmer, as you can see,” he went on, focusing the camera and on Kieran’s toned chest and six pack. “However, he’s decided to become one of my fat boys instead, haven’t you?” he asked, pushing the cell phone right into Kieran’s face.

Kieran nodded, feeling a little shy to speak on camera.

“How badly do you want to be a fatty for me?” Aaron pressed him.

“Really badly,” Kieran responded, deciding that he wasn’t going to get away with staying silent.

Aaron flashed the camera down to Kieran’s crotch, acknowledging his arousal for the first time. “He’s really not lying guys,” Aaron laughed. “This pig is so damn horny to be fattened up!” He held the camera up above them both and put his strong arm over Kieran’s shoulders, getting closer than he ever had before. “You ready to drink your first ever gainer shake for me?” he asked.

The arousal Kieran felt having the feeder’s hot, sweet breath on his face; it was almost too much to bear. He nodded obediently. “I want to get so fucking fat for you!” he stated to Aaron, knowing that every single one of his followers would see his declaration.

“Good! Because you’re going to,” Aaron grinned wickedly. He moved over to place the cell phone against the counter, ensuring the angle was good to get them both in shot still. “Say bye-bye to your six pack,” he chuckled, placing what he needed on the floor beside them and rubbing Kieran’s flat stomach for the camera.

“Bye-bye,” Kieran whispered. He felt Aaron’s large hand grasp his dick and begin to stroke the shaft up and down. He moaned aloud, feeling that his knees could buckle underneath him at any moment. He felt the hard plastic of the funnel being pushed into his mouth, rattling against his teeth as he slowly opened his jaw wider to take it.

“Here goes nothing…” Aaron smirked, taking his hand awat from Kieran’s crotch to hold the funnel upright as he began pouring the thick mixture down into it.

Kieran’s eyes popped open as the thickness of the shake hit the back of his throat. He swallowed instinctively; the weight of it above him seeming to force him to swallow more and more. Perhaps he was going to be good at this: a natural. But after only a few more moments, the scale of the task before him seemed to hit home. The funnel was full and Aaron still had even more in the container.

“Keep swallowing,” Aaron whispered seductively. “I know it’s not easy the first time, but this is how we turn you into one of my fat piggies.”

Kieran moaned, his struggles seeming to melt away. He swallowed and swallowed, wanting nothing more than to be a fat pig for Aaron. He could tell by the soothing comments that Aaron was whispering into his ear that he was doing better. All of Aaron’s many followers would see this. He could feel the flask being filled more, but it didn’t matter. He could do this.

“Three thousand calories… just like that!” Aaron declared victoriously to the camera once he was removing the funnel from Kieran’s mouth.

Kieran was dazed and confused, feeling like he might lose his balance from dizziness as he pulled his head forwards again. A tremendous burp came roaring up his throat, catching him entirely off-guard. This was it. With his bloated stomach and smiling feeder already pulling out a small tray of doughnuts for his dessert, he really was no better than all the other fatties he had got off to, watching them eat online. His new life had already started. And now nothing would ever be the same again.

“Fifteen pounds,” Kieran told Aaron a couple of weeks later as the man came over to see him. He knew he had done well. The arousal that he felt from having a feeder guide him had propelled him to follow every single piece of advice he had been given. The comments on the videos Aaron had posted were a huge motivator. He’d got off every night, gorging himself and checking in with Aaron on the phone; the man who seemed to know exactly what to say to him to expand his capacity; swelling his stomach up for even greater amounts of food.

Aaron still made him stand on the scales to confirm everything. “Good,” he nodded, gaziing down at Kieran’s chest and feeling along the faded abs, squeezing the budding flesh that was building at his sides. “How does it feel?” he asked.

“Amazing,” Kieran responded emphatically. Having been so lean, he hadn’t anticipated how much he would notice the early gains. However, he could feel it all, like sludge, sliding onto his toned body like a slow, erotic invasion.

“These early pounds are crucial,” Aaron explained, patting Kieran on his slightly thicker rear. “Sometimes pretty boys like you can panic when they see the changes happening. We’re going to hit you hard and fast with the gains so you don’t have time to overthink things and second guess yourself.”

“I won’t second guess myself,” Kieran promised. However, he trusted Aaron’s judgement implicitly. He had no idea how many guys the sexy feeder had done this to; how many he was still doing this to during the days when Kieran didn’t see him. But when Aaron spoke, he exuded the expertise of someone who had fattened hundreds of horny boys just like him over many, many more years than his youthful appearance would have suggested.

“This is the thickening stage,” Aaron noted, still exploring Kieran’s body. “The fat isn’t really showing itself yet. But it will do,” he stated, pulling out his cell phone to take more pictures.

“I can’t wait!” Kieran cried, feeling relaxed enough now to stroke his hardness in front of Aaron.

Aaron grinned, thoroughly encouraging it. He switched his cell phone to record. “Hey guys. Here’s an update on my newest piggy. He’s up fifteen pounds already!” he chuckled, taking the camera on a tour of Kieran’s body, even as he touched himself. “As you can see, it’s making the porker pretty fucking horny!” he teased, allowing the camera to focus in on just Kieran’s hardness. “Are you going to get huge for me, Piggy?” the feeder called from behind the camera.

Kieran nodded and cried out in obedience. Touching himself had never felt this intense before.

“He’s a good pig!” Aaron told his viewers. “His gains aren’t really showing yet, but if you follow me around here…” he explained, taking the camera behind Kieran’s back and getting down on his knees so that his camera was level with Kieran’s butt. “This is where the big changes are happening so far,” the feeder chuckled, tapping Kieran’s glutes and allowing the slight flutter to be seen on camera. “Brand new, beautiful blubber, guys!” he exclaimed, even puckering up to kiss it on screen for all his followers.

After that, Kieran ate like never before. He’d never wanted to get fat as much as he did now. It was in that moment he realised satisfying his kinks was only ever going to make them stronger. He’d started something that he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever stop. Fat was his only future.

Kieran didn’t know whether he had fallen in love with Aaron, but he ate for him with an awe and determination to make the feeder proud. Pretty soon it was happening too. The swell of his stomach became more extreme. There was a softness beneath the surface of the skin and, for the first time ever, his clothes started to stretch unflatteringly across his torso. Kieran could gaze for hours at himself in the mirror, admiring the changes, as if he wanted to document and acknowledge each and every one. He never came quite as hard as he did when Aaron was there; his large hand clasped over his mouth, holding in something deliberately fattening as his orgasm blossomed into the most intense feeling imaginable. The names Aaron called him; oh those names! He was a pig; he agreed with that entirely.

It was hard to know what was so arousing to Kieran as he walked around in clothes that became too small. Perhaps it was that feeling of exposure as he strutted around the supermarket, filling up his cart with the fattening items Aaron had instructed him to buy every couple of days. He remembered the first time he felt the beginnings of a rippling jiggle through his stomach, the cool air reaching under his t-shirt to caress the softening skin that was bulging over the waistband of his shorts. Whether he was right or not, he felt like the eyes of every person were upon him. He felt almost naked, with the forty pounds he had amassed spreading across his body and squeezing its way out of his clothes. Sometimes, just the thought of that would make him breathless with lust, only fuelling the appetite he had no problem in indulging.

He’d started upgrading his clothes; not because he wanted to, but because Aaron had insisted that he needed to start thinking long-term. “This isn’t some little holiday gain,” he explained, grabbing as much of the fat as he could that was starting to build around Kieran’s waist. “I know you’re clinging on to the old clothes because it’s arousing to feel the difference. But, I need my fatty to be comfortable too. How else is he going to overeat for me?”

Kieran nodded, observing the marks and dimples his tight clothes had left in his skin from a full day at work. Aaron was right. Sweatpants were indeed going to be his saviour.

It was a few weeks later when Aaron asked Kieran to meet him at a bar one Friday night. Kieran had been horny all day, waiting for the time to arrive. Against Aaron’s sage advice, Kieran allowed himself the luxury of dressing himself in a shirt that hadn’t fitted for some time. It stretched across his torso, exposing the rounded pauch that he had developed over many months of overfeeding himself. He could see the way people were looking at him and he struggled to maintain his usual stride, knowing how tight his pants were around his freshly plumped rear. Aaron was already stood at the bar ordering a drink when he entered, but he laughed slyly and grinned as he saw the ridiculous sight of Kieran walking towards him.

“Enjoying yourself? You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Fatso?” the feeder asked, immediately calling Kieran out on his kinky reasons for dressing so outlandishly. He circled around him, taking in the view of him entirely. “Jeez! That cute little ass has been destroyed!” he chuckled, seeing the bloated, widened glutes pushing against the fabric of Kirean’s tight pants.

“Where are you taking me tonight?” Kieran asked, feeling the butterflies of excitement in his portly stomach.

“Right now, we’re having a drink here,” Aaron stated, passing over a couple of shots that he had ordered. “I need to get you pumped and ready for the next part of your training.”

Kieran threw his shot back and was handed another. He trusted Aaron completely and couldn’t help the arousal of knowing that something new was about to happen to him.

Twenty minutes later, Aaron was leading Kieran into a building across the street from the bar. He grinned, opening the door for the bloated gainer and led him into the elevator. “Where are we going?” a tipsy Kieran asked, knowing that this wasn’t Aaron’s apartment building.

“Just be patient,” Aaron whispered, feeling Kieran’s chubby butt now they at last had a little privacy. Then, when the doors slid open again, he carried on striding ahead, leading him to the door of an apartment that Aaron already had the key for. “Piggy! I’m here!” he cried out loudly, even before the door had shut behind them. “I hope you’re hungry!”

Confused and alarmed, Kieran followed Aaron into the living area and breathed in sharply as he saw the back of a very large, shirtless man staring into his TV.

“Hey, Mike!” a sweet Aaron called, bending down to kiss the enormous, easily five hundred pound man, sliding his hands all over the gigantic belly that filled his lap. “Did you miss me?”

Looking closer, Kieran began to recognise the man. He’d seen him many times on gainer sites over the years. He had no idea that he lived right here in the city though; nor that Aaron had had any part to play in the massive weight gain he had experienced over that time.

“I brought one of my new piggies tonight,” Aaron explained, pulling Kieran closer so that the fat man could see. “This is Kieran. He’s pretty small still, but I’m making progress,” he smiled, patting Kieran on his softer butt.

“Hi… Mike” Kieran mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. Only a minute before he had felt like a gigantic, fat whale. Yet, now standing in front of such a large and perfect example of obesity, he suddenly felt himself shrinking back down to reality. How ridiculous had it been to dress up his meagre gains in such tight clothes when, in all honesty, his weight was nothing more than average.

“Kieran is going to be feeding you tonight,” Aaron declared, making the fat man’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“I am?” Kieran asked, equally surprised. “But, I’m a gainer, not a feeder.”

“You say that like there’s a difference!” Aaron laughed. “In order to become the best gainer for me, you have to learn how to feed as well. You really think it’s easy fattening up all my little pigs? There’s a lot of skill to it. And that’s something you’re going to start learning tonight.”

Kieran now understood why Aaron had met him at the bar first. He’d dreamed for years about getting fat for someone, but had never really considered being a feeder himself. Before he knew it, Aaron had surrounded them both with the mountains of food that had been left out in the kitchen for the evening.

“How long have you been gaining?” the fat man asked, trying to make connversation with his new feeder for the night.

“A few months,” Kieran replied, mindlessly rubbing his stomach.

Kieran abruptly snapped his fingers. “We’re not here to talk about you tonight, Kieran. Tonight is all about Mike and getting HIM fatter.”

“Oh,” Kieran mumbled, seeing that Aaron had sat himself down on a chair and was listening to everything they were saying. The soft light on his face made him look so devastatingly handsome. There was no way that anyone could resist him. Compliance was the only option.

“Less talk, more eating…” Aaron nodded down at the food.

Kieran felt flustered, but he nodded regardless. “Well… what do you want to eat first?” he asked Mike.

A loud huff came from Aaron and his hands flew up in frustration. “Just get on with it!” he ordered. “Look at the fat pig! Do you really think it matters what you push into his greedy mouth first?”

Kieran nodded and picked something up, pressing it to Mike’s mouth. The greedy man’s lips parted and he took a large bite, almost taking the tips of Kieran’s fingers with it. Perhaps it was the sheer size of the man, or the many years of training he had undoubtedly endured, but Kieran had never seen an appetite like it. Besides the periods of more intense chewing, it was almost difficult to keep up with him.

“Don’t forget those liquid calories…” Aaron pointed to the gainer shake on the side. “Lubricate his throat to keep him eating for you.” He continued interjecting throughout, instructing Kieran of the best ways to ensure Mike was fed in a rapid and productive manner.

“He says he’s too full,” Kieran finally grumbled, exasperated as Mike no longer opened his mouth as he delivered food to him.

“And, do you believe him?” Aaron asked.

Kieran stared down at the large fat man. He could see the pain of the stuffing etched on his face. A pain he knew only too well. “I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“Then how are you going to find out?” Aaron pressed again.

Kieran considered. It was a good question: one that he didn’t know the answer to. He thought back, placing himself in Mike’s position and the many times he had been fed by Aaron. What had Aaron done when he hit the food wall?

“Oh, come on… I know you can eat more,” Kieran began, offering his most soothing of tones. He stroked Mike’s enormous gut and grabbed a handful of it, jiggling the flesh to remind the man of how far he had come. “Don’t you want to grow fatter for me?”

Mike’s eyes grew more misty and lustful. He nodded.

“Don’t you want to be the biggest, fattest piggy for Aaron too?” Kieran asked next.

Again, Mike nodded, and when Kieran next lifted the tasty treat to his lips, the fat man took it with a renewed sense of purpose. He continued for a surprising length of time, taking on far more calories than Kieran would have expected. Then, when even that momentum started to dwindle, Kieran reached under the gut and grabbed the man’s hardness, rubbing up and down the shaft, making him moan and relax even further; allowing him to push even more food into him.

When Mike finally came, Kieran suddenly realised that Aaron had been quiet for some time. He turned to see his feeder, wondering whether he would be displeased at him for letting Mike come before every last item had gone. But Aaron simply smiled, raised both hands and began clapping slowly. “Good work,” he cried, seeming to be as equally proud of himself as he was the two men he had trained. His dick was out and he had clearly been stroking himself the whole time he had been watching. “Oh, look… “ he smiled, getting up from his seat and pushing Kieran down onto the couch. “...It looks like there’s even some leftovers for you,” he teased, reaching for the first item he wanted to feed him.

Kieran sat there, delighted with himself. He now had a greater sense of how he could be a better gainer for Aaron. And it was a lesson he was never going to forget.

Kieran almost wished that he didnt get so aroused when people in his everyday life commented on his gains. His tummy had been quietly building for months, but the moment the fat started spreading into his face and neck, it was as if the floodgates had opened. He had crossed some invisible line of tolerance that his family had had, seeing him piling on the pounds and saying nothing. Now they used all the words that Aaron had been deploying for months to make him climax: fat, greedy, disgusting, pig. No matter who was saying it, he felt the blood rushing into his groin each time one came up, no matter how well dressed up they had been in speeches about their concern for him and his health. He’d spend hours on the phone with Aaron detailing each one; the horny stud finding them as equally arousing and stimulating as Kieran did. He’d use them all, sending them back to him like a boomerang, ammunition to keep on eating.

“Remember that time your step dad called you a greedy pig when you took your shirt off at the family barbecue?” he’d tease. “Imagine what he’s going to be thinking the next time he sees you; especially now your tits are coming in!”

Oh, how it all got Kieran going! Aaron had a skill, making Kieran picture in his mind what others must think of him now he’d edged his way towards becoming obese. He’d point out the changes in his body that even Kieran had failed to notice and, just by talking to him, Kieran found his dreams and fantasies becoming more and more extreme.

“Piggy!” cried Aaron, letting himself into Kieran’s new apartment with his own key some time later. “I’ve got a surprise for you tonight.”

Kieran looked around guiltily. He’d got hungry waiting for Aaron to arrive and had already made a start on some of the snacks he had laid out for Aaron to feed him. But as he looked, he could see that the sexy feeder was not alone. He was standing by another handsome, strong looking guy who looked awkwardly around; like he hadn’t anticipated being there that evening.

“This is Dillon,” Aaron explained, introducing his buddy. “He’s a wanna-be feeder,” he smiled, placing his big hand over Dillon’s rugged shoulder and squeezing affectionately. “He wants to learn from the best and I’m throwing him in at the deep end tonight. You’re going to be his first ever piggy.”

“Is this the guy from your videos?” Dillon marvelled, moving over to get a look at Kieran. “I can’t believe it!” he cried, seeing the large, spreading belly that had sprouted on Kieran’s body.

“Yeah, he’s doing pretty good, huh?” Aaron nodded, reaching across to jiggle one of Kieran’s nipples. “He used to be a swimmer, you know?”

“Yeah, I know…” Dillon nodded, looking for all the world like he was in the presence of a celebrity. “I just didn’t think…” he mumbled. “I mean… he’s even fatter in real-life!”

“Thanks,” Aaron smiled, accepting the compliment for Kieran. “I’ve been playing around a lot with his diet these last few weeks and it seems to be making a real difference.” He reached down again, grabbing a wedge of Kieran’s stomach fat and jiggling it. “Have a feel,” he instructed Dillon. “He’s one of the softest pigs I’ve got at this size. It’s just pure fat.”

Dillon did as he was told, reaching down and jiggling; the bulge in his crotch evident for all to see.

“He’s a good pig, this one. He’ll be a great first feed for you. He’s got a big appetite and is as kinky as they come,” Aaron explained to the new feeder.

Kieran smiled. It wasn’t often that he heard Aaron comparing him to his other pigs and hearing him do so then was incredibly thrilling. When Dillion was finally ready to take the reins, he gladly submitted for him. But even if Aaron hadn’t said this was Dillion’s first time feeding someone, Kieran could easily have worked it out. He was slow and cautious, too busy watching Kieran eat, not thinking about what should be next or the order to feed everything to him. Aaron called out a lot from the sidelines, getting more and more frustrated as Kieran sat there, greedily waiting for the next items to be ready for him.

“He’s going to be thirsty by now…” Aaron reminded Dillion several times. “Remember to reward him…” he cried. “What is he?”

“He’s a fat pig,” Dillon answered Aaron.

“So, why don’t you tell him so?” Aaron sighed, getting exasperated.

“You’re a fat pig!” Dillon shot next, but the speed and comedy of the situation only made Kieran laugh, even despite himself. Dillon seemed so young and inexperienced; unused to the ways of feeding. He was cute and simple in a way that Aaron was not, with an innocence behind those big eyes. He removed his shirt, trying to make the situation sexy again, revealing his chiselled torso; the result of many years of material arts training. But, not long after, Aaron had pushed him aside, taking over the feeding entirely and ensuring that Kieran was left completely and utterly stuffed by someone who actually knew what they were doing.

Even with his failures, it was obvious that Dillon had enjoyed himself. Kieran got the impression that it certainly wouldn’t be the last time Aaron would be using him to train new feeders - and that was a very exciting prospect.

Sometimes it was hard for Kieran to keep up with just how large and flabby his body was getting. He’d catch himself in the mirror sometimes; his breath being sucked straight into his chest as he took in the fat man staring back at him. One hundred pounds of pure fat had altered him beyond most casual aquantainces’ recognition, but the next fifty was transforming him even more. Fat building on top of fat had created the most remarkably soft form. His hips had swelled outwards and his nipples sank lower as his chest filled with lard. His old paunch had swollen into a blubbery gut that seemed to smile in his lap. His arms were now taking on the brunt of the excess weight, getting flabbier and softer with each added pound. His double chin was only growing more pronounced, swallowing his jawline entirely and spreading around his neck to create a wedge of fat at the back of his head.

Kieran had always imagined himself feeling satisfied by this point. Obesity had long come for him, yet he still wanted more. There were still goals he wanted to achieve; getting too fat for some clothes stores, breaking a chair, needing a seatbelt extender on a flight. He confessed each of these to Aaron, who recycled them over and over again as connon fodder to make him eat even more for him. The videos Aaron was posting of him online were getting an insane number of views. It seemed like everyone wanted to see him grow ever fatter and let the hunky Aaron fuck him hard and rough. So, who was he to object to such alluring feedback?

Kieran thought he recognised the fresh face as he walked into the office that day. He’d met the new recruit somewhere before; he knew he had. He held out his hand to offer a handshake, then watched as the guy’s face immediately flushed red.

“My desk is just over there if you need anything. My name is Kieran by the way,” he smiled.

“Yeah…” the guy squirmed awkwardly. “Thanks. I’m… Dillon.”

In an instant Kieran remembered the fresh-faced, timid feeder that Aaron had brought over all those months ago. However, the man standing before him now had definitely undergone quite the transformation. Kieran thought back to the tight, chiselled body of the martial arts guy that he had met. Since that time, it was clear that Dillon had been transitioning away from that physique for some time. He sported an obvious paunch, with fat filling his handsome face and absorbing the masculine jawline that he had once had. He looked strong, with large shoulders that had hunched slightly forwards, yet his pecs had grown pointed and softer looking beneath his shirt. His waist was thick, as if there was still a lot of muscle in his torso, now enshrouded by a great layer of fat that encircled him entirely. His gut seemed to sit higher than most men’s, as if it was building into somethign that could one day turn into the most tremendous of spherical balls. His butt too, though strong-looking and beefy, was obviously wider and fatter, filling his pants admirably well.

“Oh, Dillon… of course!” Kieran chuckled, looking around the office, feeling somehow delighted that his kinky exploits were even finding him here, in work: the one place he had managed to leave untouched. “You…uh, look a little different to the last time I saw you…” he grinned.

Dillion rubbed at his stomach, clearly embarrassed, looking around to ensure that no one else was listening in to their conversation. “Yeah… I know,” he grunted, seeming displeased. “It just sort of happened,” he whispered.

Kieran smirked, raising his eyes skeptically. “A fat gut like that doens’t just ‘happen’ overnight!” he teased.

“Don’t talk so loud!” Dillon grumbled through his teeth. “It’s my first day. I don’t want everyone to know about this…”

Kieran leaned in closer. “I think they know you’re overweight, Dillon. It’s not exactly a secret when your ass is that big!” But, seeing the embarrassment on the guy’s face, Kieran relented and headed back to his desk. From there, he could see Dillon all day long, providing an amusing distraction to his tedious schedule. He smiled and chuckled to himself, as their eyes met multiple times throughout the afternoon, especially when Kieran rummaged in his desk drawers for the highly calorific snacks he made sure he had every hour or so in order to keep his gains coming.

Once the day was over and everyone was leaving, Kieran caught Dillon as he was heading out the doors, steering him in the direction of the bar next door, whether he liked it or not.

“Sorry if I was a bit snappy with you earlier,” Dillon sighed, slowly spinning the straw of his juice between his thumb and finger. “I just… wasn’t expecting to see someone I knew in my new job.”

“It’s not that much of a big deal, surely? We only met once,” Kieran scoffed. “I’m just the first guy you fed… that’s all.”

Dillon looked up sheepishly. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever fed,” he grumbled back. “Aaron said I was hopeless at it. He says I’ve got a lot to learn before I ever try doing something like that again.”

Kieran smirked to himself; everything suddenly slotting into place. He could smell one of Aaron’s cons a mile off. “So… let me guess… Aaron told you the best way to learn about how to feed someone was to let them do it to you first?”

Dillon shrugged. “Something like that,” he admitted. “There’re a few of us wanting to learn how to feed guys properly and Aaron has got us all practising on each other. When I’m ready, I’ll be able to have a go at it as well,” he smiled cheerfully. “But this…” he pointed at his bloated stomach. This is just a thyroid problem.”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Kieran managed to keep a straight face as he admired Dillon’s sweet naivity. “It’s really not, you know. I’m afraid… you’ve been fattened up, very much deliberately. You do realise that this is probably just another of Aaron’s games, right?”

Kieran looked on with sympathy. He got the sense that Dillion already knew everything he was saying, but had yet to fully admit any of it to himself.

“None of my clothes fit,” Dillon simply said next.

“They won’t do,” Kieran nodded sympatheitcally. “Aaron will have seen to that. He has a way of enabling people to put on weight. I mean, if you’d have told me a couple of years ago that Aaron would have me actively eating towards four hundred pounds, I’d have thought you were crazy!”

“Four hundred?” Dillon gasped. “You’re going to be enormous!”

Kieran smirked. It was nice to talk about this with someone other than Aaron. “I sure am!” he grinned excitedly. “Another few months and you wouldn’t have been able to recognise me!”

Dillon’s look was one of excitement; just like it had been the night they had first met and he had got to touch Kieran’s fat for himself. “My older cousin called me a fat pig the other day,” he sighed.

Kieran laughed. He didn’t really know why. Perhaps it was just the innocent way Dillon said it. “And… um, how did that make you feel?” he asked, trying his best to remain approachable. Then, when Dillon was slow to respond, he asked. “Did it turn you on at all?”

Dillon grimmanced. “I don’t want it to…” he mumbled with embarrassment.

Now Kieran really couldn’t help laughing. “I don’t think that’s something you can necessarily control. I’ve found out so much about what turns me on since I started gaining,” he went on, trying his best to show Dillon how much he related to him. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about any of it.”

Dillon smiled. “Maybe you could help me… embrace this a little more?” he asked timidly.

“We’re going to be working in the same office together. I have a feeling our paths may cross from time to time. So… yeah, I think I could definitely do that,” Kieran smiled.

Dillon’s sweet face lit up once more.

“So, you really haven’t fed anyone since me?” Kieran asked, still finding that fact perplexing.

Dillon shook his head.

“Would you like to? I mean, I don’t have any plans this evening…”

“Yes!” Dillon nodded back enthusiastically. “I mean, I’d really like that… especially now I know you’re heading for four hundred.” He wriggled in his seat, like a man who had just got an instant boner that he didn’t know what to do with.

“If your cousin thinks you’re a fat pig, just wait until he gets a look at me!” Kieran joked.

Dillon smirked at the idea. “That would definitely help me out a bit,” he nodded, patting his rounded stomach. Already, the pair of them were feeling like they were going to be spending a lot more time together.

“Evening, Piggies!” Aaron called out, entering the apartment in much the same way as he always did. “I certainly hope I’m interrupting something,” he grinned, seeing a large, pot-bellied Dillon spoon-feeding very sloppy looking ice cream into an overfed, three hundred and seventy pound Kieran; his jiggly softness having taken over and shrouded every part of his body in softness; building at long last into his shoulder blades and drooping from his arms.

“Go away, Aaron!” Dillon grumbled impatiently, trying to concentrate on scooping out every last drop of the melted ice cream. “Tonight is our anniversary. We’re spoiling each other.”

“I thought as much!” Aaron grinned, throwing himself down on the chair to watch voyeristically. “Don’t forget to feed Kieran the…” he began.

“I know!” Dillon grumbled back. “I do have some idea about what I’m doing! I have put almost seventy pounds on Kieran since we got together, you know!”

“And all while remaining so impeccably slim yourself!” Aaron shot back sarcastically, smirking at Kieran and loving how enormous both of his former pigs were getting. “I wonder who will be eating that giant cheesecake?” he teased, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be Kieran, who had never liked them. “I also heard that there was an incident at a cafe the other day… something about you breaking some little old chair?” he smirked, leaning over to poke Dillon in his wide, heavy rear; so beautifully out of shape!

“You told him?” Dillon sighed at Kieran.

“It was pretty fucking hot,” Kieran explained by way of admission. “Your first chair!”

Dillon gave a slight smirk. He’d never dare admit in front of Aaron how much it all turned him on to see himself growing. His large, ball-bellied shape, so much different, but no less appealing than his extremely doughy and jiggly boyfriend.

“Are you staying for something to eat?” Kieran asked his former feeder, who suddenly seemed to be checking his cell phone.

“No…sorry fatties. Looks like I just got a much better offer!” he smiled, standing up to leave again.

“A feeder’s job is never done, huh?” Kieran laughed, quietly relieved that he would have some alone time with his boyfriend once more.

“I don’t know about that so much…” Aaron grinned turning back to look at the pair of them; two fumbling fatsos, so much in love and awe of each other. “Sometimes a feeder’s job is most definitely done!” he smirked, turning his broad back on them and leaving to pursue his next great adventure.

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nicorobinmywife · 1 year

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Oaky, I’m glad you answered my question, cuz I didn’t think to look in your bio. Heh

Anyway lol

I was wondering if I could get an Ace x gn reader

Reader has a habit to bite their lip when they are nervous and shy, Ace thinks it’s hot and wants to kiss the reader anytime they bite their lip. So Ace purposely tries to fluster them and goes in for the kill.

Reader is very flustered but stutters out and Again.

Please and thank youuu!

Love Bites with Ace [GN reader]

when you get nervous or shy you have a habit of biting your lip and it drives your boyfriend Ace crazy.

this little sh1t teases you on purpose to make you blush and bite your lip, and he ends up attacking your lips for his typical heated kisses.

- "Ace! Wake Up! C'mon!" - you groan trying to wake up your boyfriend, it's still hard to deal with his habit of falling asleep at random times.

- "huh?" - after a few slaps, your boyfriend opened his eyes and smiled when he saw you on top of him. - "did you know that I love the feeling of waking up and the first thing I see is your beautiful face?" - Ace teases you and you felt your face burn, he's doing it again.

- "s-stop! you're so dumb!" - you turn away not wanting Ace to see you blushing and biting your lip, however he turned your face back to him gently with his hands.

- "you look so cute when you're blushing." - Ace approaches your face with a teasing smile, you could barely keep eye contact with your own boyfriend. - "and when you bite your lip like that it drives me so crazy, I want to kiss you so bad." - his finger gently caresses your lip, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh feeling his touch, Ace loves the effect he has on you.

- "j-just kiss me already! damn!" - you wanted this "torture" to end soon and Ace quickly put his lips on yours, initiating a warm and delicate kiss, but with a lot of desire.

- "you are so good to me, my love." - Ace smirked after finishing the kiss and you mentally cursed him after he fell asleep again on your lap.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #one piece x y/n #ace x male reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace headcanons #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace one piece #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace

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chicago-pd-is-weird · 12 days

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Its not a fanfic, but I was watching the 4 episode of the 4 season of Chicago pd...

There's this interrogation moment and the thing that gets In my head is the way Hank Voight said Baby, its soo sexy and warm that I can't stop blushing over the ideia of how will sound in a romantic or sexual moment...not to mention the bright smile in his face...

Just a random thought on this Rainy sunday..

I don't know if you want to check the episode soo you can understand what I write

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader Blurb

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like this!

Hank pushed open the door to his house, sighing as he pulled his keys from the lock and set them in the dish nearby. He shut the door behind him, finding relief from the cold Chicago winters. Shrugging off his coat, he hung it on the nearby coat rack, along with his scarf. Moving a bit further into the house, he set his badge next to his keys, keeping his service weapon on his hip, just in case. He wouldn't leave anything to chance with his gun, as always. Then, he kicked off his shoes and pushed them aside.

Truthfully, it had been a hard day. They hadn't been able to track down a pedophile they'd been hunting. Typically, that meant Hank practically lived in his office, but it had been weeks and the trail had gone cold. He hated the cases he couldn't solve, and he knew his team was feeling the same way. Morale was low, so he forced everyone home for the night, including himself. He told them to rest, although he didn't plan on resting much himself. He walked into his dining room and to the liquor he had out on display, pouring himself a hefty glass of bourbon. Then, he sank down into a chair at his dining room table, settling in and pulling out his phone.

No new texts or calls.

He hummed and set the phone on the table, sitting in silence as he sipped the bourbon. He stared at the phone, contemplating what he should do. He knew if he went to bed, he would simply lie awake, so it wasn't something he wanted to do. He sat at the table, sipping the oaky sweet liquid until it was gone. Then, he got up and refilled his glass once more.

When he moved back to the table, he sat down and looked at his phone again, sipping once more before picking up the phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he got to the name he was looking for. He didn't call often, but when he did, he meant it. He needed it.

He pressed the 'call' button, then waited for the sweet voice on the other end to answer.

"Sugar, how are you?" your voice rang from the other end.

Hank hummed, giving a small, half-hearted smile. "Baby... I would be better if you came over tonight."

"Sure, I'll be over in a little while."

When you arrived, you knocked on the door. It was a soft knock, allowing him to hear without you drawing outside attention to his house. You were his dirty little secret. Even though he only called you once every few months, you were always happy to spend the night with him. Since his wife had died, he sometimes just needed a woman to take care of him.

Hank opened the door after a short moment, allowing you to step inside before closing it. He helped you take your coat off, revealing a blouse with jeans that fit you just right. You kicked off your shoes and set them neatly beside his, then stood again to look at him. You smiled softly, kissing his cheek as he pulled you into an embrace. "Hey, baby..."

You smiled. "Hi, sugar. I'm glad you called." You'd always greeted him like this. You didn't know much about Hank Voight outside of his street representation. You knew he was a cop and you'd seen him around the city once or twice. You also knew that he knew everything about you, and when he needed a favor, you'd be inclined to help him. You'd taken to calling him 'sugar' because he was always so sweet with you, sweeter than he was with anyone else you'd seen him interact with. You always expressed how happy you were that he called, considering you also knew he liked to drink when he didn't have someone beside him.

"I'm glad you came, baby." He called you baby. Of course Hank knew your real name, and you knew his, but the two of you always called each other by these pseudonyms. It was simply just a thing you did. You didn't mind. The way the word 'baby' rolled off his tongue, in his deep voice, it made you shudder. You loved the way he spoke to you and the way he held you.

When he finally let you pull back, he didn't let you go. You could tell he was already two or three drinks in, although he held himself together pretty well. He was a lot softer when he was drinking like this, trying to make the memories of the day go away. He held you softly by the waist, humming as he looked over you.

"How have you been, sugar?" You moved your hand up to his face, stroking your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Hank shrugged and leaned into your touch. He didn't answer, but you could tell he wanted to talk about it. You pushed closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He returned your kiss by holding you closer, tilting his head to pull you in deeper, your lips moving in sync. After a blissful moment, the two of you pulled away, looking at one another. He pressed his forehead to yours, sighing softly.

"Pedophile case," he mumbled. "Couldn't catch him."

"Aw, sugar," you whispered, wrapping your hand around to the nape of his neck, stroking at the hair there softly. "I'm sorry... Those cases are always hard..."

Hank sighed softly, closing his eyes as he leaned into your every touch. "We tried for weeks... I've barely slept. We just... We couldn't get to him. He slipped through our fingers with every victim." He sighed shakily, and you could tell he was on the verge of crying.

Your heart ached for the man who was in so much pain. Losing his wife, his son, his best friend, and so many others took a toll on him. Again, he didn't call you often, but when he did, you always knew you had to come. He was dealing with too much pain, and by the time he called you, he was desperate. You let out a soft breath, kissing him again softly, then pulling back to lead him over to the nearby couch. You sat him down, straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands. He hadn't turned on many lights, so the darkness engulfed the two of you as you leaned down, kissing his lips with a sweet, soft embrace.

As he sat with you, he pulled you even closer. He didn't want to cry, but it was coming out. He pulled away, sniffling softly, his eyes wet. You pressed your forehead to his. "It's okay to cry, sugar... It's always okay to cry." He let out a soft sob, holding you tighter by your waist and back, pressing closer to you, as close as possible. "I've got you, I'm not leaving, sugar. I'm right here."

He nodded as he moved to press his head into your shoulder and neck, still crying softly. “These weeks have been so tough… I just… wanted to save them…”

“I know, sugar, I know…”

“I wanted to take them home to their families!” He sobbed, clinging to you for life, maybe a bit too hard. You knew you would come back with some bruises tomorrow, but you didn’t truly care. It had happened before, and people teased you about getting some rough sex, but you never gave in. You never told them what actually happened.

You winced silently, but clung to him as tightly as you could as well, knowing he wanted reciprocation. When you pressed into him tighter, he let go of you a bit, probably realizing how hard he was holding you.

After a few hours, Hank calmed down to a sleep, and you moved to lay him down, laying on top of him for a while. Then, you pushed yourself up when you were sure he was asleep, grabbing a blanket and casting it over his body. You leaned down and gave him a kiss, then grabbed yourself something to eat. It was nearly 4AM now, so you made sure everything was set, including his alarm for 6:45am. You locked his door and left out the back, hoping he would call you again soon, knowing he needed it.

#x reader #chicago pd #fanfiction requests #hank voight #sargent hank voight #sergeant hank voight #chicagopd #hank voight x reader

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smilingformoney · 5 months

Text

Rickmas 2023: Day 7. Stormy Reunion | David/Charley (OC)

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

Charley Tate could literally be under the water in a bathtub and she’d probably be drier than she was right now. Hell, at least she’d be naked and warm, unlike now, with her soaking wet clothes clinging to her skin and the below freezing temperature turning her nose, fingers and probably her toes bright red. That was if she even had any toes left - she couldn’t feel her feet at all, so they may well have fallen off and she’d not have noticed.

She’d been waiting on the street corner for a taxi for the last twenty minutes, but no empty cars passed her by. She shivered, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and wondered if it might be better to go back into the train station and wait there until morning.

A car approached, and she peered hopefully through the rain in the hopes it was a taxi, but it was just a police car. Maybe she could get herself arrested - a night in a prison cell might be slightly preferable to freezing to death on the street corner.

The police car slowed down, and she thought for a moment she was going to be arrested - surely the cop didn’t think she was soliciting herself in this weather, did he?

With all the rain on the windows, she couldn’t see through, so she had only to wait for the window to slowly roll down to see her visitor.

“Can I help you, Officer?” Charley asked as politely as she could when she had to shout to be heard over the rain.

“Charley?” came the reply, a deep, baritone voice she hadn’t heard in years, but she recognised it straight away. She bent down slightly to peer into the car.

“David Friedman? Is that you?”

“Yeah it’s me, the real question is what the hell are you doin’ back in New Orleans and why are you tryna catch your death?”

“Can I answer those questions in the back of your car? Preferably with the heating on full blast?”

David sighed, but he gestured to the passenger door. “Get in the front. I ain’t arresting ya.”

“Thanks, Dave!”

Charley hurried around to the other side of the car and climbed in, sighing with relief when the warmth of the heating hit her face.

“Damn, Charley, you’re soaked. Good thing I found ya. Here.”

David shrugged his jacket off and handed it to her. She wanted to tell him not to bother getting his jacket wet for her, but she was far too cold to worry about manners now.

“Oh my god, Dave, you are my saviour,” Charley groaned with relief, slumping back in the seat. “I owe you big time. A new jacket, for one.”

“Yeah, well, don’t take this for granted. I’m a cop, not a taxi driver. Where to? Your folks’ place?”

“Naw, they downsized soon as I left. No room for li’l Charlotte anymore. I’m stayin’ at the Empress.”

“You’re what?! Hell naw. If you managed to get there without dyin’ of pneumonia, you’d die from some infection or another from that place. If you ain’t got no place to stay, you’re stayin’ with me.”

Charley’s heart did a somersault, and she tried to ignore it. She hadn’t seen David in three years, and she’d done her mighty best to forget him in that time. So of course, as soon as she came back to New Orleans, he was the first fucker she ran into.

“You don’t have to do that, Dave. I can handle the hotel –”

“It’s my place or the precinct, doll. I ain’t leavin’ you there and gettin’ up tomorrow to see your obit splashed across the front page.”

“Aww, I knew you still cared!”

“Naw, I just ain’t bothered with the paperwork.”

She glanced over at him, and although he was trying to act cool, she could see the twitch of a smile on his face even as he peered through the rain to head towards his place.

“So you gonna tell me what you’re doin’ in New Orleans, Charley? Last I heard you were off to New York to make it big.”

Charley shrugged, wrapping David’s jacket around her shoulders a little tighter, and she couldn’t help noticing he still wore the same oaky aftershave he’d always worn.

“Didn’t make it. Clearly. Sold everything I had just to get a ticket home.”

“Wait - everything? You ain’t even got a bag on you, Charley.”

“I got a wallet! Not that there’s much in there. Just enough to keep me in the hotel for, like, a month.”

“Well, you ain’t steppin’ foot in that hotel, so you can use that cash to buy yourself some damn clothes for one.”

“I gotta stay somewhere, Dave –”

“Yeah, my place.”

“What? No! I’ll take ya up on it tonight, Dave, but I can’t stay.”

David waved his hand at her dismissively. “Shut the fuck up, Charley. You stayed enough times before.”

“Yeah, but that was… different.”

David glanced at her, then turned his eyes back to the road.

“Don’t have to be,” he muttered.

Charley frowned. “What?”

“I said, it don’t have to be,” David repeated, clearly agitated at having to repeat himself. “Different, I mean.”

Charley sat up in her seat slightly, looking at him curiously. “What makes you think I want it to be the same? Maybe I got me a boyfriend back in New York.”

David scoffed. “Oh yeah? Then why ain’t you stayin’ with him?”

She didn’t answer, and chose to stare out the rain-soaked window instead. She could just make out the illuminated store signs as they went by, and she recognised every single one of them. New Orleans had hardly changed in the three years since she’d left. Hell, even David hadn’t changed.

“Charley, I’m serious about stayin’ with me long as you need to,” David said, breaking the silence. “It don’t have to be the same if you don’t want it. I’m sure us southern country bumpkins don’t stand up to the fancy folks in New York –”

“I tried to date,” she said, interrupting him. She looked over at him again, admiring the gorgeous profile of the man she’d said goodbye to three years ago. “But I never liked them fancy folks, Dave. I suppose my type is more… rugged.”

David glanced at her, and for a moment their eyes met before he turned his attention back to the road, but she saw enough of the old familiar fire in his eyes to know her old flame still wanted her.

“I gotta get gas,” David muttered as a gas station came up ahead.

“How’s Jess?”

“Fuckin’ big. Comes up to my waist now.”

“She still with her mom?”

“You askin’ if I got back with my cheating wife, Charley?”

“Just askin’. I know it was hairy when I left.”

“Yeah, she’s with her mom. I get her on weekends, though. ‘Specially now that Matty’s in jail.”

“Matty’s what?”

David smirked at her as he pulled into the gas station. “Oh, yeah. He was involved in all sortsa shady shit. Colluded with Senator Hornbeck an’ everything. I’ll tell ya all about it - after I get gas.”

“Aw, Dave, ya can’t leave me hangin’ like that!” Charley whined, getting out of the car with him in hopes of hearing the story sooner. “What’d they do?”

“Later, Charley,” David insisted, nodding subtly to another man who was pumping his gas within earshot.

Charley huffed and leaned against the car, hugging David’s jacket closer around her as he started filling the gas tank.

“I always knew Matty was up to no good,” she said. “Past just stealin’ your wife.”

“Yeah, thanks for remindin’ me,” David replied.

“Aw, c’mon now. If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had a brief but passionate love affair with a cute bar singer, now, would ya?”

She grinned at him flirtatiously, and he rolled his eyes, which she knew meant she was charming him.

“Wait here,” David told her, tossing her the keys after finishing up. “Don’t go drivin’ off in that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Detective.”

Charley paced around a little, trying to keep warm as she waited for David to come out of the shop where he was paying. When he returned, he was carrying a coat.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her. “You’re still shiverin’.”

“Dave! You didn’t have to do that –”

“I ain’t letting you freeze to death before I even get you home, doll.”

She looked at him, a smirk on her lips. “No? What you plannin’ for when you get me home, then, Dave?”

“Somethin’ like this.”

He closed the gap between them, pushing her up against the car, and her previously cold lips lit up with a fiery passion as David kissed her, just as greedily as she remembered. Christ, she’d missed this. Missed his lips on hers, the way his strong arms wrapped around her much smaller frame, and trapping her against the car just made her feel smaller, more trapped, and a hell of a lot more aroused.

A car horn honked, and David pulled away, panting, desire burning hot in his eyes.

“How much further to yours?” Charley asked, similarly out of breath.

“Half an hour.”

“Fuck that. Find a layby and take me in the back, Dave, just like old times.”

“Ohh, I fuckin’ want to,” David growled, his hands wrapped around her waist, ignoring the continued honks from the car behind. “But you’re still soaked, doll, and not in the good way. I won’t rest easy ‘til I get you somewhere with central heating. Then I’ll make you scream ‘til you’re beggin’ me to stop.”

“Then get to drivin’, mister.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

When they arrived at David’s place half an hour later, Charley was a lot warmer and drier, but when she got out of the car she still left a considerable wet patch behind. Her arousal had died down a little as they talked for the rest of the journey and David filled her in on how Matty Grimes had landed himself in jail, but it didn’t take long to reignite it when she entered the familiar house, which hadn’t changed much in three years, and David hoisted her over his shoulder, making her squeal in surprise.

“David Friedman, you put me down!” Charley demanded, but he only laughed.

“I will, doll, I will.”

He climbed the stairs with her over his shoulder, and she knew exactly where he was taking her. Sure enough, he turned into his bedroom and put her back down on her feet as he pushed the door closed with his foot.

“Them clothes are awful wet, doll. Better get ‘em off quick.”

Charley did her best to peel off her t-shirt, but it really was stuck to her, so David helped her and with much laughter and fumbling the two of them managed to get her wet clothes off and tossed aside, leaving her standing naked but for her bra and panties, while he was still fully dressed.

“Gonna arrest me for indecent exposure, Detective?” Charley teased, fingers dancing along his tie before tugging at the knot to loosen it. “Or are you gonna join me?”

“I’m not in the shape I was when you left,” David warned her as he pulled his tie over his head before starting working on the buttons of his shirt. “Three years of post-divorce depression’s not great for the gut. Plus I’m an old man, Charley, it’s hard to stay in shape.”

“You think I fuckin’ care if you put on a few pounds, Dave? I think I made it pretty obvious I think you’re fuckin’ hot. And you ain’t that old.”

“I’m fifty-three. You’re, what? Twenty-somethin’?”

Charley shrugged and unbuckled his belt for him. “An’ I was twenty-somethin’ last time, too, that didn’t stop ya.”

She went to pull his pants down, but David grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“Three years ago I was drowning my sorrows in drink every night at Banana Joe’s ‘cus my wife was divorcin’ me to get with my old partner. I see some pretty li’l thing singin’ with a band up there and she starts flirtin’ with me after. ‘Course I’m gonna take her home. My fragile ego needed the boost. But you were right to leave, Charley. I ain’t boyfriend material. Clearly, I ain’t even husband material. You had your dreams and you followed ‘em, and I’m sorry they let you down. Now, I fuckin’ missed you, and if you want me to, I will stick my cock in every damn hole you got ‘cus I am still a sad, lonely old drunk who’s no good for nobody. But if you think you’re gettin’ some boyfriend outta this, then I’m sorry to disappoint, doll. ‘Cus I ain’t lookin’ for no girlfriend.”

“Are you done?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, are you done? Or are you gonna tell me more ‘bout how you don’t love me and you just want a good fuck? ‘Cus I didn’t come back for you, David Friedman. I didn’t even wanna come back. But I had nowhere else to go. Now, you wanna offer me a warm bed and a good fuck while I find my feet in this town? Fine. But I ain’t looking for no boyfriend neither, Dave. I’ve had a hell of a week, and fucking you might well make it all worth it. Now, are you gonna remind me what your cock tastes like or not?”

David grinned hungrily and released her wrist from his grip.

“By all means, doll. I’m all yours.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she sunk to her knees and pulled his pants down as she went. Charley moaned hungrily when his erect cock popped out of his boxers, just as big as she remembered it.

“See, now they ain’t got cocks like this in New York,” she teased as she took the base of his shaft in her hand and held it still while she licked around his tip, teasing out the precum. “All that shoutin’ and runnin’ about - they’re compensatin’ for somethin’. But you ain’t got nothin’ to compensate for, do ya, boo?”

“Awful lot of talking and not a lot of cocksucking down there,” David replied, and she grinned mischievously.

“Sorry, Daddy.”

She opened her mouth and let him in, and they both groaned as his shaft pushed past her lips and towards the back of her throat.

“Mmm, that’s it… only wanna hear you suckin’. Get a real good taste of it, Charl. Mhm… ah, fuck. Just what I needed after a - ah! - long day…”

His hand tangled itself in her hair as she bobbed back and forth, relieved to finally taste him on her tongue again. She didn’t care that he was a good thirty years her senior, or that he was a cop, or that he was the grumpiest man in existence. She didn’t wanna date him, after all. She just wanted to suck his cock, to fuck him and be fucked him by him, to feel his stubble rubbing against her thighs as he ate her out.

Sure, in the short time they’d spent together, they didn’t spend every moment fucking. Sometimes they ate, or showered, or watched TV. Sometimes they even talked, and she even found she liked talking to him. But he was in the middle of a messy divorce, and she didn’t wanna touch that with a bargepole, especially since she was still fucked up from a cheating ex.

Now, that was three years ago, and she was over that scumbag. She hoped David was over his ex too, but she supposed it was harder for him because he had to co-parent with her. Still, he must need a stress relief. An eager young thing desperate to make him feel good, because she’s just as fucked up as he is and approval from him makes up for all the ways she’s fucked up her own life.

And approval was definitely what she was getting right now, if David’s moans were anything to go by. He always had been a very vocal man. Whether muttering dirty things in her ear at the bar or grunting as he fucked her into his bed, David Friedman certainly made his feelings known.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum all down that throat of yours,” David groaned, his hand now holding her head in place as he fucked her mouth desperately. “Ugh - oh - fucking hell, Charl… fuck!”

His hips snapped forward and stilled, his cock stuffed as far down her throat as it could go, and she could only moan as she felt him fill her up with his hot cum, trickling down her throat just where it belonged. It must have been a while since he last jacked off because he shot a good load down there, and she made sure to breathe through her nose as he did.

She whined a little when he pulled out, and David just laughed at her as she instinctively followed him.

“Christ, I fuckin’ needed that,” he said with a sigh of relief, his head lolling back slightly as he caught his breath.

Charley, meanwhile, was eagerly lapping up what he’d left on her lips, and he laughed when he looked down at her.

“Thirsty li’l thing, huh? Don’t worry, darlin’. I ain’t that old - I got another round in me. But first, get your ass on that bed. Reckon it’s my turn to remind myself what you taste like.”

Why on earth had she ever left for New York, she asked herself half an hour later when she was wrapped up in David’s arms, both sweaty and out of breath, laughing at the ridiculousness of the fact she’d hardly been back two hours and had already found herself in his bed.

“Welcome back to New Orleans, Charl,” David said as he pulled you in tighter. “You better be fuckin’ stayin’ this time.”

“Oh, I ain’t goin’ nowhere, David Friedman.”

“Good.” David kissed the top of her head, a lot more gently than she’d expected.

“Is it?”

“What?”

“Good?”

“‘Course it fuckin’ is.”

“Alright. ‘Cus I gotta be honest, Dave, I couldn’t get you off my damn mind. I sure as hell didn’t come back for ya, but I sure hoped I’d run into ya. Didn’t expect it to be so soon, mind.”

“‘M glad it was,” David mumbled sleepily. “Missed you.”

His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see her smiling coyly.

“Missed you too, Dave.”

But he was already asleep.

#rickmas2023 #Judas Kiss 1998 #Alan Rickman #David Friedman #Friedman x OC #this one was so fun to write!#he’s so grumpy I love him #also shout out to Snow for being my Louisiana consultant #also not me trying to resist starting yet another long fic when I have three on the go

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skxllz · 10 months

Note

If you love me enough.

Can I have Dwayne and David fic being pampered I’m fine with a reader Drabble but god damn today has been stressful. Oaky love you drink water

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐨𝐨. 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.

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I love you too and yes I'll do this since, sigh, you're my bitch

pairing ❚ dwayne x fem! reader x david

category ❚ imagine

warnings ❚ she/her pronouns. bratty reader. childish reader. little space... kind of. slight mention of trauma. use of the word daddy (in a comforting way). david being softer than usual. slight mention of an ed but it's brief.

summary ❚ you aren't acting your usual self again, and dwayne and david know exactly what's wrong. they do their best to comfort you.

this was not proof read so if it's fucked up, sue me.

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“ psst, david! ”

paul had his palms cupped over his mouth much like the gesture of one that'd blow a dart. he whisper yelled to his brother, brows drawn together and voice slightly shifty. it was unusual, and due to david's sensitive hearing he heard as such.

the lighter blonde turned his head to look over his shoulder at paul, whom had stepped away from his conversation with you and marko to crouch in the walk-way to get his attention. he looked idiotic, beings as he didn't need to be so dramatic, but that was just paul for you.

arching a brow, cigarette hanging from his lips, david rolled the wheel to his uncapped zippo under his thumb. “ what is it? ” he asked simply, only... a slight tone of interest actually surfaced. he wanted to know why paul sounded off.

“ c'mere, ” the vampire waved his fellow coven member over, arm above his head. david rolled his eyes, but turned in his wheelchair, only to get up from it. he circled the chair to walk over to paul.

paul got up from his crouched position on the floor, only to grab david by the shoulders and yank him into the darker part of the cave where they could speak in private.

“ what the hell, paul? ” david growled, shoving the sandy blonde off of him once they were in closed quarters. he didn't like being man handled - especially by someone who knows he hates that. “ keep your paws to your fucking self. you know I don't enjoy being touched. ”

paul shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. “ sorry, man... ” pausing, he clicked his tongue. arms lowering slowly. “ but, uh, it's y/n. she's acting weird. ”

this immediately caught david's attention. squinting, the male eyed his brother in suspicion. “ weird, how? ”

paul raked a hand through his messy hair with a sigh, tosling it out of nervous habit. “ I don't... know? ” he grimaced from his lack of explanation. “ I just- man, she's not her preppy self. I'm not sure how to explain it. ”

david, rather calmly, placed a hand onto paul's shoulder - only to down so hard, a crack was heard. the sand blonde winced, but since he knew something like this was coming, said nothing.

“ well use your fucking head, ” david spoke through gritted teeth, a now dark expression masked onto his face. “ if something's wrong with our girl, I'd like to know. don't pussy-foot around, paul. ”

“ well-! ” paul scoffed, snatching his shoulder back. he had no trouble snapping it back into place with a harsh grab of his elbow, and a shove. “ fuck, man. you know I'm not good at explaining things! ” he was getting frustrated at this point, because you meant as much to paul just as you meant as much to david. if not more. he just wasn't sure about what was going on with you and didn't know how to get it out of you.

for one, you were unusually quiet; not talkative like you usually are. for two, when he asked you what was wrong, you refused to answer both him and marko. he has no other choice but to come to david, dwayne was no where in sight.

“ I care about her too, david... ” paul grumbled, not letting his glossed over orbs meet the brutal killer's. instead, they were pointed to the ground, a fresh coat of worry etched in them. “ I just don't know what to do. this isn't like all of the other times she was upset.. ” he briefly paused. “ - it's different. she seems different. ”

david studied paul for a moment. from watching rhe crease of his brow tremble, to smelling the fresh scent of known salt. he knew paul was on the verge of crying cause he couldn't tell what was wrong with his baby. stuff like this ate him alive.

“ I'll handle it. ” david sighed. after stuffing away his lighter into his pocket, he wrapped an arm around the back of paul's neck; hooking his hand onto his opposite shoulder. pressing a kiss to the sandy blonde's forehead, which was a rare tender approach, and then leaving the small space.

paul was left, stunned, but didn't bother going after david. a smile took over his lips.

“ baby... please tell me what's wrong. ” marko was rolling his thumbs gently over your knuckles, while standing in a crouched position to look up at you. you sat on the edge of your bed, in which was positioned in the middle of your own room; looking not at him, but at the wall on the left.

“ no.. ” you grumbled again, lips turned down in a pouty frown. your supple lips were so puffed out that they looked damn kissable, but the coiled blonde knew he couldn't think such a way at the moment. you were the main priority.

“ honey... ” his voice was pure softness; breathless as the fluffy clouds on the sky. “ y’gotta tell me what's wrong or I'll never know how to solve the problem. ”

you glanced at marko, just briefly, enough to see his blue-green eyes staring at you sadly. the reflection you saw of yourself in his shiny orbs was... ethereal. but you paid no mind to that, much to scared to tell him your issue. so you snapped your head away once more, choosing to bite down on your lips and shake a little no out.

a sigh could be heard leaving him, before he let go of your delicate hands and stood up. that's when marko sensed a presence behind him.

“ david.. ” the coil-haired vampire muttered, turning he blonde's way. david gave him a knowing look, and marko nodded.

“ I'm gonna’ go hang with paulie, angel face. ” marko spoke lowly to you after he turned back in your direction. you gave him no reply, but he expected that; settling to step forward and cup a hand to the back of your head, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

then he was gone.

and then there were two.

“ y/n... ” david's voice nearly made you flinch, but you caught yourself; instead, managing a shaky huff out. you didn't reply, just like you didn't to either paul or marko. it was... strange, how you were acting, but the head blonde had an inkling of what could be the problem. he just didn't want to voice it right away in case you were scared off.

so, he silently walked his way over to you; the light trudge making your breath quicken in anticipation.

it was scary... david. it was scary how david could be. you never knew what he was thinking, or how he'd act, and quite frankly it intimidated you. you felt safe around him, but that never stopped his presence from making the back of your hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

you're probably thinking, how the hell does that even make sense? well, it does.

you know he'd never hurt you. he'd never lay a finger on you without your consent, nor bruise a piece of skin on your very body. but... just his aura, his high confidence was a fright. it made your stomach swirl in a weird way you couldn't describe. and, for someone who hated being yelled at, it was terrifying never knowing what could set him off.

trauma response if you will.

“ kitten... ”

damn, that nickname. the one that always seemed to calm you down around him. In any other circumstance you'd probably hate the name, but the way david said it was so addicting.

he placed a finger under the round of your chin and applied pressure, forcing you to look him in the eye. and, god, his eyes... they were so pretty. you could sob.

that's why you clutched at your cotton dress, bunching the fabric between your fingers out of habit. it rode up from your knees, revealing the cute stripes of your knee-highs.

“ I heard you weren't acting yourself. ” david spoke in a softer tone than usual, as to not make you flee or retract from his touch. his face was also more... calming. brows tilted in an oppositely slanted manner, while his plush lips formed a gentler approach instead of his usual, stiff lined frown it rested in.

due to his nature being more open, like a night time breeze, you relaxed. your stiff shoulders falling into a small slouch, while your still back finally rested.

you didn't answer him, though. you lips, however, did for you... choosing to quiver violently. he knew you were gonna cry if he didn't do something.

the male leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. his kiss was so caring and light, it's almost as if his lips weren't even there on the first place. the way he slid his hand to the back of your head in a gentle cradle- you were nearly sent into a blissful spiral.

It's like your breath was taken away, though. the anxieties, the welling in your tummy, all gone. the burn from before had vanished, too... you could sigh in relief.

“ sh... ” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “ it's alright. ”

“ I'm guessing you're in pain again? ” a new voice entered the conversation, much deeper, but feather like. It was so silky soft that the tone could wrap around you like a much needed blanket.

“ I don't know, dwayne. ” david answered him, since you still wouldn't speak. “ she hasn't spoken to any of us. I think it may be her wanting to not eat again... but I rather her tell me herself, so I'm not forced to pry into her mind. ” his thumb drew swift circles into your cheek in a gentle manner, while he stared at you. “ but she has yet to tell me... ”

dwayne's presence was no longer across the room, but behind you. your breath hitched as you felt his legs cage around you from behind; legs comfortably homing themselves beside yours. his arms circling your waist, loosely.

“ you have t’talk to us, sweetheart. ” dwayne mumbled in your ear, his addicting voice sending shivers down your spine. he felt the tremble, causing him to chuckle.. but said nothing of it. “ what's wrong, princess? ”

“ ... I don't wanna’ talk ‘bout ‘t... ” you finally voice out your thoughts, but your voice was multiple tones softer than usual. if the two were human, there's no way they would've heard you. thank god for their over-active hearing.

“ you have to, sweetie. ” dwayne used a single hand to circle the side of your neck. a thumb pressed into your pulse point gently, while his fingers cradled your throat lazily; a gentle rhythm of smooth rubs from his thumb instantly going to work to soothe you. “ how else are we supposed to know what's bothering you? ”

you frowned, knowing he was right. of course the boys could always read your mind, but they knew you hated when they did that unless it was during intercourse. they respected that opinion of yours, so they decided to throw away the thought all together, even if it meant nagging you for hours on end for you to speak about how you felt.

sighing, you looked down to your clothed thighs, brushing your hands over the material that covered them, “ m’tummy is burning again... ” you swallowed harshly because you were afraid to continue, but david sensed your wariness. he reached forward and grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it warmly.

“ and... and I wanna’ eat, ” your lip sucked in between your teeth, you biting down on it as to not cry. “ but my mind keeps convincing me not to. I hate it. ”

both of the men knew words couldn't convince you it'd be okay to eat, nor would it help your mindset. you were someone who thought no one understood, which was okay to think- but, because you felt that way, you hated to accept any type of verbal comfort and advice.

that's why, instead, they showed you it.

david looked up at dwayne, and dwayne nodded; tightening his hold in you and leaning back. your figure was pulled up over his own, causing you to gasp and snap out of your spaced out state. but, also, causing you to whine and try n’ wiggle away from him.

“ dwayne! ” you cried out, trying to actually elbow him. “ let go! ”

“ no. ” his tone was sharp and stern, and it instantly knocked you into stopping your movements. you whimpered out, “ but- ” only for your words to die down into your throat once your dress was lifted.

gasping, you looked down, watching as david, who had one knee pressed into the mattress as he leaned over you and dwayne, lifted the material without a care. a look of concentration was actually on his face. and, although the act seemed suggestive, he actually did not have those intentions. “ daddy-! ”

“ hush, ” dwayne took ahold of your jaw and angled your face upwards, to where you were looking at him with those pitiful eyes. “ look at me, sweetheart... ”

you felt the coolness of the air draft up against your now bare stomach, causing you to shiver, the peach fuzz on your thighs turning into goose bumps. “ daddy.. ” you whispered at dwayne, voice low, causing him to smile.

“ hey, baby.. ” he cooed. a small kiss was given to your lower lip. “ talk to me... you're okay. I promise I got you. ”

feeling soft lips not only press to your lip, but belly as well left you whimpering. “ stop’t.. ”

“ stop what? ” dwayne was innocently looking at you. so far, he's done nothing - so what's the case?

“ you two ate teasing me! ” your voice came out really whiny, so cute, making the two men chuckle. you could just feel david's smirk on you.

“ sounds like someone is cranky. ” david's hands were gently massaging your thighs, while his lips trailed up your body; kisses going to the vast between your breasts.

another whine.

“ I'm not! ” you huffed, gently kicking your legs - but david stopped you. forearm pressing down on your legs, holding them in place.

“ I think she's hungry, david. ” a wolfish grin formed on dwayne's lips while he continued to stare at you, his half lidded eyes holding nothing but the call of mischief. “ don't you? ”

“ I know a hungry girl when I see one.. ” david rumbled, busy leaving kisses on every inch of your body. you were flushed by now, but pushes every dirty thought in your mind, away.

“ you two are mean. ” huffing, pudging out your cheeks, you gave up on calling out the two vampires that were being nothing but asses. settling on just laying there in dwayne's arms while david smothers you.

“ maybe, ” dwayne hummed. he kissed your hair, while brushing his thumb over your lips, which you replied to by lightly nipping his thumb.. “ but we distracted you, didn't we? ”

“ you didn't- ” the burning in your tummy was gone. now, it was just replaced with yearning, and a bubbly feeling in which the boys always gave you. a giddy one that you loved.

gasping, you tilted your head back to look up at dwayne. he gave a toothy grin to you. “ it doesn't hurt anymore! ”

dwayne proudly laughed, but that laugh only got louder once you broke free of his hold and twisted in his arms. david got shoved away, which made a growl leave him- but you paid no mind to it. Instead, you hovered above the dark haired vampire and began peppering his face with kisses.

“ I love you, I love you, I love you! ”

“ hey! ” david's bark caused you to pause your adorable abusiveness to dwayne's face. lifting your head, you gave a slow turn in his direction, blinking at him owlishly.

“ what? ” his eyes narrowed. “ I just get shoved aside like a piece of raw meat? ”

you blinked again.

It took a minute to register what he had said, but once you did... a big smile broke out across your face.

you hummed, got off of dwayne, and bounced yourself over to david preppily. he watched your movements with a sour look, but couldn't deny that his heart was swelling.

“ no, daddy.. ” your arms circles his waist, and as you stepped closer, you rested your chin on his chest; looking up at him with great big, die eyes. “ I love you, too... thank you both. ”

david stared at you for a moment, with that usual blank look that usually slid onto his face. he... wasn't sure what was going through his head - and at first, you thought he wouldn't reply because of how silent he was, but he surprised you by leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss.

“ I love you, too.. ” he whispered. “ so fucking much. ”

#david x reader #david powers #the lost boys david #david tlb #dwayne x reader #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987

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