#insert the very large : ^ ) here again

[phoenixwithapencil]

Ya ever find it weird that Bahamut barely has his role talked about in game? How strange his role really is?

Bahamut, the bladekeeper

Bahamut, the draconian

Bahamut, the keeper of prophecies and creator of the crystal

Bahamut, the god of war

Bahamut, the god who never provided a real reason for why so much blood had to be spilled for his prophecy to come true

Bahamut, who misled Ardyn and Somnus both into petty violence

Bahamut, who told Ardyn to spread the scourge upon the world for decades

Bahamut, who let Ardyn go on a vengeful killing spree just long enough to really hate Lucis- but not get his revenge- and then let him go back on his merry way to Nifilheim and Verstael Besithia who had ambitions of war and tin soldiers powered by scourge

Bahamut, who enabled a war that killed nearly everyone on both sides not to mention those who were caught in the crossfire- a war that would not have been so bloody had Ardyn not had such a hand in it

Bahamut, who demanded a blood price 2,000 years in the making- who really demanded two sacrifices- Ardyn and Noctis- who did not need both for there is a world where Noctis at least lives and the sun rises and no one else needed to die for it.

Bahamut, the god of war, the creator of the crystal

It’s a strange pairing when taken with the story of ff15. That’s all.

[ysaefinn]

Pairing: Dilf!Satoru Gojo x gn!reader x Dilf!Suguru geto

In a marriage you pick up each other's slack.

It's a partnership first and foremost, spouses don't have to necessarily operate as a merged unit but it should always be them against the problem.

Suguru is an extraordinary cook, nothing short of an artist with his tools and ingredients. An alchemist with spices and sauces, and a surgeon with knives. Two big calloused hands coming down on the freshly put-together batch of dough, effortlessly kneading away at the mass, shaping it so ~so~ easily into whatever shapes he desires. It's a little odd to think this but there's something...~sensual~ about it, maybe it's the casualness, maybe it's because it almost feels like a subtle reminder of what he can do, that you are yet to see his physical abilities meet their limit. Regardless, the display coupled with the golden rays of the sun, shining on his unwavering gentle smile, reflecting on the silver strands of his contrasting inky locks, giving the illusion of crystals meticulously woven in each strand. Suguru puts angels to shame.

Satoru rests on the other side of the coin. According to the silver-headed man, brute force is the only way around a car engine, you can't possibly get a vehicle to start moving without giving it some maintenance with your fist. Lifting heavy parts and maneuvering them requires a lot of strength and stamina, both are qualities that Satoru has managed to retain throughout the years. Rough fingers easily popping small pieces on and off, inserting rods and poles with a swift push of his hip. The black engine oil that seeps out is quickly nipped in the bud with a rough thumb shoved into the leaking hole. And once the problem is solved he runs his whole hand through his pure white hair and cracks his typical joke of turning into his husband before giggling to himself every time. It's very sloppy and messy the way he goes about things, but as long as it gets him where he needs to be, he won't be changing the way he operates.

It doesn't make Suguru the happiest man in the world watching his husband beat a non-living object somehow to death, he couldn't even entertain the thought of going about things the way his husband does. But that's what Satoru's here for! To take care of the things Suguru would rather not and vice versa, –since the white-haired man doesn't have the patience for marinating chicken or baking food for hours–.

Because in a marriage you pick up each other's slack!

–

"That's my baby.." you finally reach your peak with a drawn-out whine, coating Suguru's entire hand in the process, the man wastes no time licking his finger clean from your slick while running his other large hand up and down your tummy "you're doing so well, sweet thing" he moves his palm around your waist before squeezing at your flesh gently and you shudder in response "making us so proud like always, sweetheart". "Satoru, focus on keeping those pretty wrists together, we're working on being braver and not hiding our face, right?".

Right, this was a lesson.

By the time your vision clears from your orgasm, Satoru has finished wiping off the juices you left on his face from your earlier climax, and he takes the chance to kiss your drowsy self rough and messy catching you completely off guard. He's ripped away from you just as quickly by the hair.

Suguru's hands are more than capable of being cruel and unforgiving when it comes to you.

"Be gentle" Suguru scolds, an icy cold tone –almost unrecognizable– "they're still sensitive" and he's back to cooing sweetly again, Suguru is only ever this mean because he knows his husband can handle the heat.

The silver-haired man falls back with a grumble "Ugh, you never let me do anything" he whines childishly, earning a playful raised brow from his husband. "That's only because you don't know how to be gentle" Suguru counters "You brute.." A warm heavy hand rests on your head before petting you like a well-loved kitten, as if the smallest of sudden movements can hurt or distress you. "You have to be gentle with them. They can't handle how rough you get at times, Satoru".

Oh he doesn't have the slightest idea.

You can definitely without a single shadow of a doubt handle Satoru when he gets his hands on you. Unlike his husband, Satoru listens to your requests of a rougher pace loud and clear and gives you exactly what you wish for –something Suguru has never approved of. But on the other hand, he is much softer and more intimate with you when his head is between your thighs. Suguru however, would rather watch you squirm and whine and cry from that same angle. Now that is what you can't handle.

And it makes sense because in a marriage you pick up each other's slack!

"Can't handle how rough I get?" Satoru scoffs before looking back at you and lovingly rubbing your thighs "Seems Sugu doesn't know the first fuckin' thing about what you can and can't handle sweethe–A-ah!" Suguru interrupts his husband's sass by yanking him by the hair again and pulling him in for a kiss. All teeth all saliva.

Satoru pulls away to catch his breath, lips bitten and swollen crack into a smug grin. "Daaww you mad? Jealous that you know you hold yourself back? What kind of boyfriend are you Sugu~?"

It's really all in good fun –it would be at least, if this didn't question his dedication to caring for you to a degree– but his jaw still clenches and his eyes narrow as if challenging the man. He is undoubtedly bothered, yet still chooses the high road to ensure you continue to be in the spotlight. Classic.

The long-haired man releases his grip and moves over to scoop you up in his arms, he slides his hands from your waist down to your thighs before spreading your legs wide open for his husband. You jolt back and sink more into his plush chest, clearly still overstimulated from the previous peaks they forced you to reach. Suguru coos before kissing your cheeks sweetly and whispering something about not being shy or trying to hide from them.

"Use your mouth for something useful for once" he gestures to your aching core "come on, don't keep them waiting".

And Satoru gets into position without another word– for now–, moving forward and placing your legs over his shoulders, he pecks your left inner thigh before looking straight at you, –Azure flames shocking your senses, a strange cold sensation washes over you– sending shivers down your spine. It doesn't pass unnoticed, your men exchange fond looks.

It's like your little reactions are bonding moments for them.

But as long as Satoru's in the room, it wouldn't last.

"See? Very responsive. There's clearly a favorite~" Satoru purrs, and his husband rolls his eyes "Giving good head doesn't make you a better lover, Satoru" he scoffs, but still refuses to derail "But keeping our baby needy certainly makes you a terrible one, doesn't it sweetie?" Again, a noticeable softness in his tone when he turns to address you. "Now come on, get on with it"

"I want you to admit it first"

Suguru sighs "...you are good with your mouth".

"Just picking up your slack. That's marriage after all!"

[transformersxreader]

Imagine being a famous opera singer across Iacon city! (TFOne Reader insert)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~(Y/n) who loves to sing her spark out to all the citizens of Iacon city, (Y/n) who gladly performs for her primes.

~The primes enjoy (Y/n) singing voice, they could listen to her all day and talk poetic

~(Y/n) being the nicest bot that anybody has ever meet, welcoming all to see her performances. No matter who they are

~(Y/n) who changes her amor styles like padme from Star Wars, but mostly wears her yellow mix orange amor (☝️The one in the sketch above)

Here are some example vids of what (Y/n) would sing like

~After another perfect performance for the primes, (Y/n) meets an odd yet charming fan.

“(Y/n) a pleasure to finally meet you, the names sentinel~ love your work~”

The blue bot grabs (Y/n) hand pulling it up towards his face to kiss it, (Y/n) smiles trying to be kind about his actions

“Thank you sentinel, very nice to meet you.”

~Some time has passed and the sad announcement of primes death facing the quintessons, ending the war making everyone believe they have won. Not knowing that sentinel betrayed the primes working for the enemy to gain power over cybertron. Making him the new prime of cybertron their “savior”

~(Y/n) was saddened with the news of the primes death, but due to the victory over the quintessons it was called a celebration from the new prime.

“(Y/n) there’s someone here to speak with you.”

(Y/n) looks up to the mirror reflection to see one of her assistant that helps her throughout the day, but doesn’t look back,

“Tell them I’m not seeing anyone today….”

(Y/n) looks down covering her face, before the bot could say anything. A large figure pushes into the room, (Y/n) hears standing up turning to face whoever came in.

“I’m sorry I’m not seeing-“

There stood sentinel.

“Sentinel?”

Sentinel smiles and walks closer to (Y/n), grabbing her hand pulling her closer to him surprising (Y/n) by his bold actions.

“(Y/n) lovely to see you again, how you’ve been?”

(Y/n) was shock just as she was to reply she was interrupted

“Listen my dear, since our victory against the quintessons I believe a performance from you would really lift our citizens spirits up.”

(Y/n) was just lost at this point,

“Sentinel… I don’t-“

“Prime. Sentinel prime.”

(Y/n) flinch at his voice, (Y/n) not wanting more issues agrees to perform for the new prime. Sentinel delighted on (Y/n) agreement, stating that he will be excited to see (Y/n) perform for him.

Time seems to past slowly for (Y/n), After performing for the passing of the primes and our victory,

(Y/n) didn’t felt like herself, waving to the large crowd that applauded and cheered. Looking above to some of the balconies seeing sentinel prime and what seems to be his right hand bot, a very tall femme bot.

Both with smiles applauded for (Y/n).

(Y/n) gave one final bow to the crowd and walking gracefully off the stage to her personal dressing room.

Sighing in relief, she hums a low lullaby to herself. As she hums the room around her changes slowly, she removes a few pieces of her outfit. Changing into a new amor color.

(Y/n) was resting enjoying the free time she had before seeing sentinel again, looking out viewing the large city from a high building, placing another small energon cube into her mouth. Laying back to look up (Y/n) slowly closed her optics, finally feeling at peace.

Clunk-Boom!!

A loud crash startle (Y/n), waking her up looking around the room seeing a bit of dust, waving the dust away.

‘Cough’ ‘cough’ “ugh… ow my head.”

“And this is why I didn’t wanted to come!”

(Y/n) optics adjusted seeing two fingers, the two other bots didn’t seem to noticed her. They both continued their little conversation. The gray bot looks around then finally noticed (Y/n).

“Uh.. pax…”

The other red bot looks up to his friend and just as he was going to ask what’s the matter, the gray bot grabs ahold of his head making him face (Y/n). They three stood in silence, thinking whether or not to make a sound. The red bot smiles shyly slowly raising his hand waving.

“Umm hello.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading my friends 😊✨✌️

[feeder86]

Guy Again and Again

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Plenty of experience!” Guy joked back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robert nodded and didn’t disappoint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gloomwitchwrites]

could you do one about all the members of 141 if the reader is super sensitive during sex, squeaks and squirms, cries but she likes it she’s just very responsive

Sensitivity during sex is subjective as everyone is different in that regard. So, here is my little offering to you, anon.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv, dirty talk, missionary, established relationship, teasing, overstimulation, cowgirl, mirror sex, vaginal fingering

Word Count: 1,624

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is a tease.

“How’s that feel, love?” he croons with a mischievous smile.

You whimper. Gasp. His hands upon your skin are simply too much.

Without an answer, Johnny goes down on one elbow, changing the position. He’s not even thrusting anymore, simply holding himself inside you, keeping your legs spread wide over his large, muscled thighs.

“Can’t use your words?” he mocks lightly as the tips of his fingers tenderly graze over a hardened nipple.

At the same time, he sinks a bit further, thighs spreading slightly, pushing your legs even wider. You’re unable to do much but writhe and wiggle beneath him. He always does this. Always teases. He loves how sensitive you are, and how your body comes alive beneath him. All the little sounds you make, all the sharp shakes and shivers, only motivate Johnny to draw forth more.

“What will happen if I touch you here, hm?” he asks, his hand dipping between your bodies. When Johnny says “here,” he runs his finger around the place your bodies meet.

Your cry is loud, and it only becomes louder when he trails upward to circle your clit. His name is there, on the very tip of your tongue, but each touch is a zap, stealing your voice.

But this touching and teasing isn’t cruel. You love every second. It only makes the end that much more electric.

“And here, love? What would happen?” he murmurs.

While still moving over your clit, Johnny leans forward, his tongue circling and then sucking your nipple into his mouth. Your body immediately contracts, every muscle tensing then relaxing. A little shiver rattles up through your spine and out to the edges of your limbs. It causes you to squirm, the sensitivity nearly overwhelming.

But there is nowhere for you to go. You are not only pinned to the bed by Johnny’s upper body but by his cock.

Johnny releases your nipple, his mouth forming a smug smile. “Suppose you need some relief, yeah?”

You curl into him, fingers digging into his skin. Johnny brushes your hair out of your face, and that too makes you tremble.

“Lie back,” he soothes, and you melt, molding to the bed as he flattens himself above you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle talks you through it.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl. Look at you.”

Kyle delicately guides your legs toward your chest. You’re bent at the knees, trembling, breathing coming fast and heavy. Every touch of his is like a brand against the skin. It is an overwhelming tsunami.

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Maybe for it all to end even though you crave the sensation.

“Gotta control that wiggling love.”

“I—I can’t,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he puts you into position.

Kyle parts your pussy with his fingers and you cry out. He tuts and then inserts two fingers. Your hips instantly buck and your back arches, wanting to escape from him.

“No no. None of that, love.” Kyle lightly presses down on your stomach, holding you still as he curls his fingers up and drags them, repeating the motion.

Again, you cry out, and then tears sting your cheeks as you claw at the bedding.

“Control your squirming and I’ll give you what you want.”

“You’re awful,” you whimper, every muscle in your body twitching, wanting to move.

“Do what I say, love. Know you can.” You inhale and Kyle chuckles softly. “That’s it. Good. Exhale. Again.”

He has you repeat the process until the muscles in your limbs calm.

Kyle’s hands retreat, and then he reclines beside you, rotating onto his back. His hand palms the base of his cock, stroking gently.

“Get on top, love. Hands on my chest. You control the pace.”

With a gentle tremble, you swing one leg over Kyle’s thighs, straddling him. You do as he instructs, placing your hands on his chest and angling your hips. He guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pushing in, stretching you wide, the sensation shooting up your spin and as well as to the tips of your toes.

“I know you can take it. Fuck, love. That’s it. Good.”

You slowly slide down on him, groaning loudly, nails digging into his chest as you impale yourself on him.

“Oh—fuck.” Kyle’s hands are on your thighs, running up and down them in a caress.

It takes every bit of your concentration to focus on the rhythm of your hips. You’re overly sensitive, and this position reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot every time you come down on him.

“Kyle,” you beg, but it’s without meaning. You just need to talk, to say something, to verbalize your need in whatever way you’re able.

His answer is a groan. “That’s it. Fuck, love. You feel amazing.”

Slowly, your eyelids open, and you’re greeted with a beautiful sight.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he says, one hand sliding between your breasts.

John Price

“Look at yourself, love.”

You are unable to move. Unable to squirm.

John has you spread wide over his thighs like a sacrificial offering. His knees are bent toward the ceiling and just parted enough that you cannot move your legs while draped in his lap. He’s got you impaled on his cock, and he is downright fucking smug about it.

While the motion of your legs is useless, you also don’t have your arms. John has them propped above your head because he doesn’t want you touching him or himself. His own muscles forearms snake up and over your upper arms. It allows you no control, but allows John everything. He can touch your breasts like this. He can touch your clit, your neck, and whatever else he wants.

John rocks and rolls his hips, dick appearing and then disappearing back into your pussy. All you can do is flex your hips a bit but it isn’t enough. You are completely trapped. At his mercy. And the sensitivity is overwhelming.

Without any control, you have to submit to John, and while you love it, it only rockets every ripple of pleasure that much higher.

“See what I have to do,” he murmurs into your ear. “You can’t stop moving.”

Tears bloom in the corners of your eyes like tiny dewdrops. You are far too sensitive for this. John is pushing you into overstimulation.

John nips at your earlobe and you gasp. “Look,” he prompts.

The closet door is open. Not by much, but enough that the mirror that hands on the inside faces the bed. Within, you see yourself, and John. You see how splayed out you are, how needy and pathetic you look in his arms.

“Look,” he says again. “Want you to watch.”

It takes all your effort to focus. Every time John rock his hips upward, his brush of skin against you is fire. It causes everything in you to react and jump. But you cannot writhe. Cannot move.

And that only makes you more frustratingly coiled with untamed need.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyelids heavy as you gaze upon the spot where your bodies meet, and how much your body stretches to accommodate him. You can see how your chest heaves, the tightness building and overwhelming your senses.

“Now you see what I see,” murmurs John as his hand delves downward to give you some relief.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Quit your squirming.”

“Then don’t be cruel,” you moan, nearly jumping out of Simon’s arms when he sharply thrusts upward.

Simon’s teeth nip at your throat and this time your body jerks, almost sending you out of his lap.

“Stay still,” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You know how sensitive I am.”

“I do. Fucking love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s an embrace, and yet there is power behind it, the muscles there tensing with anticipation. You inhale, and your exhalation is stolen from you.

Simon twists, and you go with him, rolling onto your back.

You squeak loudly only to be pinned against the bed. “Simon—”

He crushes his lips to yours, his tongue delving for your taste. The only sound you make is a whimper. “But sometimes,” murmurs Simon against your lips. Your squirming gets in the way.”

Using his body weight, Simon drives in at a harsh angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. That vibration of pleasure ripples outward, and your body reacts as it always does. But you cannot writhe and wiggle. Simon is too heavy, and he knows this, which is why he’s pinned you.

“Oh—fuck. Simon. Plea—. Please.”

“Please what?” laughs Simon softly before moving inside of you again.

The only reply you can make is a strained moan.

Simon grins, completely smug. “Tuck in, love. I’ll give you something to squirm about.”

Simon wraps your wrists up in one hand, pinning them above your head. He starts to thrust in earnest, his free hand holding the side of your throat. He watches on as tears come to your eyes. Your body wants to move, to buck and arch against him, but you are completely trapped.

Simon leans in, kisses the spots on your cheeks stained with tears. The only thing you can move are the bottoms of your legs. You wrap your ankles over his bulging calves and cling.

Every stroke and brush of his skin against yours is a roaring fire, rocketing you toward overstimulation. Words fall from your lips but they are elusive, just white noise in your ears. You know that you’re crying, that you’re speaking to him, that you’re attempting to move.

But Simon is relentless, claiming every inch of your body like he always does.

[writingwithcolor]

A Careful Balance: Portraying a Black Character's Relationship with their Hair

@writingraccoon said:

My character is black in a dungeons and dragons-like fantasy world. His name is Kazuki Haile (pronounced hay-lee), and his mother is this world's equivalent of Japanese, which is where his first name is from, while his father is this world's equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. He looks much more like his father, and has hair type 4a. I plan to make his character very finnicky about his hair, both enjoying styling it, but also often being unsure how to style it (not in that he doesn't know how to, but has so many options for how to style it, he has trouble choosing). However, I know that there are some very harmful ways to write black hair, especially in regards to how the black character themselves feels about it. Kazuki does not hate his hair, in fact he takes joy in it, and I'm researching black hair and hair styles to be as accurate as possible. But I'm unsure if portraying a black character as occasionally overwhelmed by or vain about his hair is negative. How would you suggest either changing this or making it work? Does it need to be changed in the first place?

Black Character Overwhelmed by Curly Afro Hair

Your Black character wanting his hair to look its best and at times feeling overwhelmed seems reasonable and natural to me. It appears their challenge comes with how to style it. Not so much with struggling how it looks or how hard it is to manage. That is good, as this further helps avoid placing a strong negative focus on Black hair. 

Him caring a lot about how it is style should not be deemed vain or frivolous, either. In any case, hair care is self care. There’s nothing wrong with having pride with your hair, especially hair that mainstream society, historically and present, might say is not beautiful. This still matters, even in a fantasy world, since your readers still exist in this reality. It’s empowering and a welcome change to see someone who loves their afro hair, actually.

There are unique factors someone with coily afro hair would experience vs. straight, wavy, or looser curls, but people struggling with their hair (too frizzy, too flat, too limp, too thin, too thick!) is universal. 

There is a delicate balance to achieve.

Avoid Writing a Black Hair Journey Experience 

An overall negative Afro hair journey might be the reality for many, especially when society deems Afro hair as unacceptable and slaps so many uninvited opinions, laws and policies over its existence and on certain styles (again, historically and very much at present), but that’s the kind of story that is best handled by someone with the background. Someone willing to commit to the research might also be able to pull it off, although it’s truly not the kind of thing an escapism novel needs in my opinion. If the story is not meant to delve into “A Black /Black Hair Experience” then I'd avoid going that route. That is moving a bit towards a struggle narrative, depending on how much it defines your character’s story.

Add positive and neutral hair language and interactions

For your writing, I’d avoid using unchallenged negative language about his hair. Being overwhelmed at times and frustrated is one thing and expected. If his hair is constantly brought up, and is associated with uncontrollable, ugly, or too [insert struggle here], then rethink the direction you’re going. 

Add some positive or neutral terms, reactions, and interactions in the narrative towards afro hair, such as describing color and texture.

“His fine coils bounced in the wind.” 

“Hair black and shiny” 

“She wore her hair in two large, fluffy buns.”

“He admired his fresh, neat braids in the mirror, smiling at his reflection, before turning to leave.”

Another tip: It may have been for research purposes, but leave out any hair number categorizing in the story and rely on description. I’d say this goes for any story, as reading the number would feel off. 

“He had coily 4a hair.” Nahh! :P 

Also, I would suggest sending all passages that focus on his hair to a Black sensitivity reader for review.

More reading:

~Mod Colette

[gothicxreylover]

I saw that you write Yandere and Demon Slayer and I was wondering if I could request how the yandere Hashira (if you don’t want to do them all then just Sanemi, Rengoku and Gyomei) would react to a darling who was abused in their past making them extremely skittish? The reader is very timid and is always on edge. How would the Hashira deal with such a delicate s/o?

‧.·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥

Hello thank you for your request!I couldn’t help myself and write every hashiras that I could remember. I was going to put pictures but tumblr takes forever to upload them and this is my second time trying to publish the story.

‧.·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro Rengoku was a force of nature, his passionate energy filling every room he entered. But when he met you, he immediately recognized a fragility that made him pause. Your timid, skittish demeanor reminded him of a small bird, wings battered by life but still longing to fly. It broke his heart to see how on edge you were, how you flinched at the slightest noise or avoided eye contact when someone raised their voice.

Kyojuro’s instinct was to protect you with the same fire that burned in his heart. At first, he struggled to reign in his usual exuberance, afraid that his enthusiasm might frighten you. Instead of his usual booming greetings, he softened his tone, speaking to you with a gentleness that surprised even himself.

“You’re safe now,” he said one evening, his amber eyes glowing warmly as he knelt before you. “No matter what happened before, I swear on my life, I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

Kyojuro’s yandere tendencies emerged in the way he began to involve himself in every aspect of your life. He took it upon himself to ensure you were always comfortable and protected, but his protective nature soon became overbearing. He insisted on accompanying you everywhere, refusing to leave your side even for a moment.

“You don’t need to go alone,” he said one morning as you prepared to run a simple errand. “What if something happens? I’d never forgive myself. I’ll come with you!”

Despite his intensity, Kyojuro’s love for you was genuine. He constantly reassured you with his words and actions, doing everything he could to help you feel safe. When you were overwhelmed, he would sit beside you, his warmth radiating like a comforting fire.

“Breathe with me,” he’d say, taking slow, steady breaths. His large hands would gently cover yours, grounding you in his presence. “That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

On nights when your nightmares were too much to bear, he’d stay awake with you, his voice steady and soothing as he told stories of his childhood or recited encouraging words.

“You are strong,” he would say, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here. That’s what matters.”

And while his obsessive need to protect you might have been suffocating at times, Kyojuro’s warmth and unwavering devotion slowly began to replace the shadows of your past with the light of his love.

Muichiro Tokito

Muichiro Tokito was quiet and detached, often lost in his thoughts. But when he met you, something in him shifted. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the sight of your timid, skittish behavior stirred a protective instinct within him that he hadn’t known he possessed.

At first, he observed you from afar, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. He noticed how you avoided crowds, how your hands trembled when someone spoke too loudly, and how you kept your back to the wall as if bracing for an attack. The realization that someone had hurt you ignited a quiet fury in his heart.

Muichiro’s approach was subtle. He began inserting himself into your life, offering his help in small, unobtrusive ways. He’d appear out of nowhere when you needed assistance, his calm presence soothing your frayed nerves.

“Don’t worry,” he said one day when you hesitated to walk down a crowded street. “I’ll stay with you. No one will bother you while I’m here.”

His yandere tendencies revealed themselves in his possessiveness. Muichiro hated the idea of you being vulnerable to anyone else. He began following you, not out of mistrust but out of an overwhelming need to protect you. If anyone approached you, his soft voice would turn cold, his expression unreadable as he intervened.

“Leave them alone,” he’d say flatly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The threat was clear, even if unspoken.

In private, Muichiro was softer. He would sit with you in silence, his presence steady and grounding. When you struggled to sleep, he would stay by your side, his voice quiet as he reassured you.

“I’m here,” he’d whisper, his pale eyes fixed on you. “Nothing can hurt you anymore. I won’t let it.”

Though his possessiveness sometimes made you uneasy, Muichiro’s quiet devotion slowly began to ease your fears. His calm presence was a balm to your restless heart, and in his company, you started to believe that safety was possible.

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei Himejima’s towering presence was both intimidating and comforting. Despite his immense strength, he carried himself with a quiet gentleness that set him apart. When he met you, he immediately sensed the weight of your past. Your hesitance, your downcast eyes, and the way you flinched at sudden noises all spoke volumes to him.

Gyomei didn’t ask about your past—he believed you would share it when you were ready. Instead, he focused on creating a safe and peaceful environment for you. He spoke in a soft, soothing tone, his words laced with a deep compassion that made it hard not to trust him.

“You’ve been hurt,” he said one day, his voice filled with quiet sorrow. “But you are not alone anymore. I will protect you, no matter what.”

Gyomei’s yandere tendencies emerged in the form of an all-encompassing protectiveness. He couldn’t bear the thought of you being in danger, and his solution was to keep you close. He rarely let you out of his sight, justifying it as ensuring your safety.

“You’re precious to me,” he explained one evening as you sat together under the stars. “I cannot allow anything to harm you—not even your memories.”

Gyomei’s actions were always gentle, but his determination was unshakable. He eliminated anything that caused you distress, sometimes without you even realizing it. A neighbor who spoke harshly to you would mysteriously stop visiting. A place that brought back bad memories would quietly become off-limits.

In moments of fear or doubt, Gyomei was your rock. He would sit beside you, his large hands enveloping yours as he prayed for your peace. His deep voice was a constant source of reassurance.

“You are stronger than you know,” he said one night when you confided in him about your fears. “And I will be your strength until you find your own. Together, we will overcome this.”

Though his protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing, Gyomei’s love was pure and unwavering. In his care, you began to feel the cracks in your heart mend, each moment with him a step closer to healing.

Mitsuri Kanroji

Mitsuri Kanroji had always been a warm and loving person, her affection a beacon of light for those around her. When she met you, however, her love took on an entirely new depth. You were quiet and timid, always on edge, and it broke her heart to see the fear in your eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of someone hurting you in the past—and she vowed to never let anyone hurt you again.

At first, Mitsuri’s boundless energy overwhelmed you. Her bright, bubbly personality and tendency to throw herself into hugs made you flinch, though you tried to hide it. The moment she noticed, her heart shattered. She pulled back immediately, hands clasped to her chest, her eyes wide with concern.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to scare you! I just—oh, I just want to make you feel loved!”

From that day on, Mitsuri did her best to be gentle around you. She toned down her energy, approaching you slowly and speaking in soft, reassuring tones. She showered you with compliments, constantly reminding you of how wonderful you were.

“You’re so brave,” she said one evening, her eyes glistening with emotion. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I know you’re stronger than you think. And I’ll do everything I can to make you feel safe.”

Her yandere tendencies manifested in her clinginess. Mitsuri couldn’t stand being away from you, even for a moment. She followed you everywhere, her presence comforting but sometimes overwhelming. If you tried to leave without her, she’d tear up, her lower lip trembling.

“Please don’t go without me,” she’d plead, her voice quivering. “I’ll protect you, I promise. I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt again.”

Though her possessiveness could be suffocating, Mitsuri’s love was genuine. She wanted nothing more than to see you smile without fear shadowing your expression. At night, when you had trouble sleeping, she would sit by your side, her voice soft and soothing as she hummed a lullaby.

“You’re safe now,” she whispered, her hand gently brushing yours. “I’ll protect you no matter what. I love you more than anything.”

And as her arms wrapped around you, holding you close, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of her devotion melting away the lingering cold of your past.

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu Kocho’s sharp intellect and gentle demeanor made her an enigma. To most, she appeared kind and composed, but there was an intensity in her gaze that often went unnoticed. When she met you, it didn’t take long for her to notice your skittishness. The way you flinched at sudden movements, the haunted look in your eyes—it all painted a picture she didn’t need you to explain.

Shinobu approached you carefully, her voice always soft and her movements deliberate. She never asked about your past directly; instead, she offered a safe space for you to exist without judgment.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said one evening as the two of you sat together in the garden. “But if you ever feel ready, I’m here to listen.”

Her kindness made you feel at ease, but Shinobu’s yandere tendencies began to show in the way she subtly controlled your environment. She ensured you were always within her line of sight, often under the guise of concern. If someone upset you, she’d smile sweetly at them, but her eyes glinted with a cold promise.

“Do be careful,” she’d say with a honeyed tone, her smile never wavering. “It would be such a shame if something unfortunate happened.”

Though her possessiveness was subtle, it was unyielding. Shinobu began isolating you from anyone she deemed unworthy of your trust, all while making it seem like she was doing it for your benefit. She justified it as protecting you from harm, but deep down, she relished being the only one you relied on.

At night, when the memories of your past crept in and left you trembling, Shinobu was there. She’d sit beside you, her presence steady and calming as she gently stroked your hair.

“Breathe,” she whispered, her voice like a balm. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Though her obsession sometimes showed through the cracks of her carefully maintained facade, Shinobu’s love for you was undeniable. She would do anything to keep you safe—even if it meant taking drastic measures.

And as the days turned into weeks, you found yourself leaning on her more and more, her soothing words and unwavering presence slowly teaching you what it meant to feel safe. Little did you know, Shinobu was already planning a future where you would never need anyone but her.

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu Tomioka had always been an enigma, his quiet demeanor keeping others at arm’s length. But with you, it was different. You were his solace, the person who reminded him that even someone like him could feel alive. He noticed your skittish nature the moment he met you. The way your eyes darted to every shadow, the way you flinched at sudden movements—it was painfully familiar to him.

It wasn’t until much later, after earning your hesitant trust, that he pieced together the story behind your fear. The bruises of the past lingered not on your skin, but in the way you carried yourself, the way you recoiled when someone raised their voice. It ignited a quiet storm within him—a need to protect you, to ensure no one ever hurt you again.

Giyu didn’t talk much about your past; he knew you weren’t ready to share. Instead, he let his actions speak for him. He ensured your home was secure, often checking the locks multiple times before leaving. He began accompanying you everywhere, his presence silent but steadfast. Whenever you startled, his calm voice would ground you.

“You’re safe,” he would murmur, his eyes soft yet intense. “No one will harm you while I’m here.”

But Giyu’s protectiveness slowly evolved into something darker. The thought of you being hurt or frightened because of someone else was unbearable. He began eliminating anyone who dared to disturb your peace. A rude merchant? Gone. A stranger who looked at you the wrong way? They vanished without a trace.

One evening, you noticed his knuckles were bruised, and his haori smelled faintly of blood. When you asked, his response was clipped. “It’s nothing. Just… doing what I must to keep you safe.”

Despite his intensity, Giyu was careful around you. He would never raise his voice or make sudden movements. At night, when you woke from nightmares, trembling and panicked, he would sit beside you, his hand hovering over yours as if afraid to frighten you further.

“Sleep,” he’d whisper. “I’m here. Nothing will hurt you ever again.”

And though his possessiveness grew stronger with each passing day, so did his gentleness. For Giyu, you were his world—a fragile treasure he’d guard with his life, even if it meant losing himself in the process.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi Shinazugawa was a storm of anger and raw emotion, his demeanor sharp and abrasive. But when he met you, something in him shifted. He noticed the way you flinched at loud noises, the way you shrank into yourself when someone raised their voice. At first, it frustrated him—not because of you, but because he recognized the signs of someone who had been hurt.

It wasn’t in Sanemi’s nature to tread carefully, but for you, he tried. His voice, usually harsh and biting, softened around you. He kept his distance at first, knowing that his intensity might frighten you. But the more he saw of your skittish behavior, the more his protective instincts kicked in.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded one day, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. You didn’t answer, tears welling in your eyes instead. He backed off immediately, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—damn it.”

Sanemi’s way of helping was blunt and straightforward. He wouldn’t coddle you, but he would never let you feel unsafe again. He made sure to be the first to step in if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way. His yandere tendencies began to show when he started following you—at first from a distance, then more overtly.

“You don’t need to go out alone,” he said gruffly. “It’s not safe.”

He didn’t care if you protested. Your safety was more important than your independence, as far as he was concerned. And if anyone dared to mention your past or even hint at hurting you again, Sanemi’s wrath was swift and merciless.

One night, you overheard him talking to someone outside—a low, threatening growl in his voice. “If I ever see you near them again, you won’t live to regret it.” The next day, that person was gone, and Sanemi acted as if nothing had happened.

Despite his rough edges, Sanemi showed you his softer side in private moments. When you were too afraid to sleep, he’d sit beside you, his hand hovering protectively near yours.

“You’re safe,” he’d say, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not while I’m around.”

Though his possessiveness sometimes frightened you, it was clear that Sanemi’s love for you ran deep. He would destroy the world for you if it meant you’d never have to feel afraid again. And in his own clumsy, fierce way, he began to teach you what safety and love could feel like.

Obanai Iguro

Obanai had always been quiet in his obsession with you. His sharp eyes followed your every move, not because he mistrusted you, but because he couldn’t bear the idea of you slipping through his fingers. When he learned of your past, it wasn’t from your lips—you were far too guarded for that. Instead, it was through subtle clues: your flinch when someone raised their hand too quickly, the way you hesitated to speak, and the haunted look in your eyes when you thought no one was watching.

Obanai didn’t confront you outright. He knew that his intensity might scare you. Instead, he created a cocoon of safety around you. At first, it was small things: warning others to keep their distance, subtly nudging you into situations where you had control, and keeping Kaburamaru curled around your wrist, his comforting weight a silent reminder that you weren’t alone.

But his yandere tendencies began to creep in. Obanai grew increasingly possessive, unwilling to let you out of his sight. When you flinched at the approach of an unfamiliar man in the market, Obanai acted swiftly, his hand tightening on your arm as his mismatched eyes glared daggers at the man.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice soft but tinged with malice. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Not even the memory of them.”

Over time, he began to isolate you, justifying it as protecting you from a cruel world. Yet, there were moments when his tenderness shone through—quiet nights where he held your trembling hand, his voice barely above a whisper as he promised that you were safe with him.

Tengen Uzui and His Wives

Tengen’s home was a whirlwind of noise, laughter, and affection. But when you arrived—a timid, skittish presence in the midst of their vibrancy—everything changed. The flamboyant Sound Hashira and his wives were not blind to your pain, and the cracks in your demeanor didn’t go unnoticed.

Makio was the first to grow protective. Her sharp eyes and sharper tongue were quick to cut down anyone who made you uncomfortable. “Don’t look at them like that,” she snapped at a vendor one day, stepping in front of you. “You’re lucky I don’t smash your stall for that glare.” Her fiery nature sometimes frightened you, but she always softened her tone when speaking to you.

Suma was more emotional, often crying on your behalf. “Why didn’t anyone protect you?” she’d wail, clinging to your hand. Though her clinginess could be overwhelming, she was also the first to notice when you needed comfort, holding you close in her arms and whispering reassurances.

Hina, ever the calm and nurturing presence, took charge of creating a safe space for you. She ensured you had quiet moments away from the chaos, always bringing you tea or sitting beside you in silence when words felt like too much.

And then there was Tengen. His flamboyant nature made you nervous at first, his booming laughter and confident stride overwhelming. But he adapted quickly, learning to temper his energy around you. His protectiveness, however, was unmatched. When he learned of your past, his usual playful grin vanished, replaced with an icy determination.

“They’ll never touch you again,” he said, his voice low but seething with anger. “I’ll make sure of it. You’re part of our family now, and no one messes with what’s mine.”

His yandere tendencies revealed themselves in his need to control every aspect of your life. He forbade you from venturing out alone and assigned his wives to accompany you wherever you went. Though the intensity of their protection could be suffocating, it was impossible to doubt their love for you.

One night, as the five of you sat around the hearth, Tengen spoke softly, a rare moment of vulnerability in his voice. “You’re more precious to us than you know. Whatever you’ve been through, we’ll erase it with a lifetime of love. That’s a promise.”

And in that moment, surrounded by their unwavering devotion, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could heal.

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Five - A Glimpse

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: It's time for the first ultrasound. Jessie's overwhelmed with emotion at getting to see your baby for the first time. And if you happen to be feeling better for a spell, no better time for you and Jessie to satisfy some needs.

Warnings: Needy, passionate smut. G!P. Grinding and edging, oral (r receiving), G!P sex, preg and breeding kink, mention of cockwarming, language.

A/N: The rest of the Control series can be found here.

Jessie sat, your hand gripped tightly in hers, next to the exam table in the obstetrician's exam room as you underwent your initial visit.

You'd barely let go of her since you left the apartment. You held her hand the entire time leading up to the point when Jessie had to step back as you gowned up and prepared for your baby's first ultrasound. Jessie's heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears for most of the visit, but she put on a calm, brave face for you.

The obstetrician, Dr. Mal, had been warm and patient as she walked you both through the journey as new expecting parents, and for that, Jessie was grateful. She even beamed proudly, pushing past her bashfulness as the doctor praised her for her dutiful note taking and eagerness to be involved.

A large portion of the visit involved extensive cataloging of family medical histories, reviewing a schedule of upcoming appointments and milestones, and general information and instructions. Jessie released a subtle sigh of relief when Dr. Mal very confidently relayed that she had no concerns about your pregnancy at this point.

Now, it was time for the ultrasound. While it was to confirm the placement and size of your baby, as well as estimate your due date, it was also your first chance to see your baby. Jessie was a bundle of nerves and her mouth was dry.

"We aren't able to do an abdominal ultrasound this early in the pregnancy, the embryo is too small and we can get clearer, better images this way," Dr. Mal explained. "I know this is not the most comfortable, but do your best to relax and let's see what we find."

Your hand gripped Jessie's tighter as the wand was inserted and Jessie rubbed your shoulder with her other hand.

Soon, all three of you had your eyes trained on the monitor next to the table. Jessie's eyes scanned the screen as different grainy images came and went until things more or less were static. Jessie stilled as she saw a little round dark area with an even smaller shape inside of it. She stared unblinking as she quickly made out the tiny figure in the image.

"And there's your baby," the doctor said as she pointed. "They're only about an inch at this point, but you can see here we're starting to see some defined features. Here's their head, their rump - and you can see where their teeny tiny arms and legs are just starting to form."

"Jess." Your shaky voice broke Jessie out of her reverie and she glanced down at you, mouth slightly agape as she tried to process everything. A watery smile crossed her face right away when she saw the tears in your eyes as you stared at your baby on the monitor. She squeezed your hand tightly and leaned down kissing your forehead as her own tears started to form.

This was your baby. This baby that you made together. They were made out of love, passion and devotion and they were real.

"And look at that. Or rather, hear," she went on with a smile and glance over at Jessie and you. "That sound is your baby's heartbeat. And that flickering on the image there - that's the heart beating. We can't always hear it this early on, so that's fantastic. Really strong."

Jessie's breath caught in her throat and the tears welling at the corner of her eyes started to spill over as a low steady beat sounded from the monitor.

"Oh my God," Jessie breathed in absolute wonder.

"Pretty amazing, right?" The doctor asked.

"Beyond," Jessie said, wiping at her eyes and refusing to tear her gaze away from the screen.

When Jessie looked down at you again, you turned your head towards her and she saw the trail of tears on your cheeks. Jessie's emotions bubbled up again at the sight and she let out a small, happy sob. You looked lovingly up at her and kissed her hand.

By the time you both left the office, you had a couple of copies of the ultrasound, Jessie insisting on getting physical copies in addition to the digital. She hugged the photo to her chest as soon as it was handed to her.

You weren't even back to your car yet when Jessie and you collided in an emotional and tender embrace. Her shoulders and yours shook as you both cried happily at the gravity and relief of this moment.

This was happening. It was no longer a hypothetical or a maybe, it was so incredibly real - Jessie saw your baby with her own two eyes and heard their heartbeat loud and strong. She held the picture that proved they were real; that you and her had come together to create this tiny miracle who would grow. And 8 months from now, Jessie would be holding them and taking them home.

Jessie sniffled as she pulled back enough to see you, laughing softly at herself.

"I'm a wreck," she said as she wiped at her tears again. You laughed and wiped away her tears for her.

"Well that makes two of us. Oh my God," you said still in awe. You looked at Jessie, eyes shimmering as a quiet smile played across your face. "We're having a baby," you said in wonder, your voice thick with emotion.

"We are," she affirmed, feeling her throat grow tight again. She rolled her eyes with a laugh. "I'm gonna cry again." She sniffled and looked at you resolutely. "Thank you. Thank you carrying our baby. For choosing me. I've always thought you were amazing, but what you're doing now," she shook her head, "you are truly incredible. I love you so much."

Jessie kissed you deeply, vainly hoping that she could pour every ounce of her love for you and this family you were building right into her kiss.

"Jessie." Your gaze flit away and you dabbed at your eyes. "Now I'm crying again," you laughed. "We chose each other. There's honestly no one I could want to raise a family with more than you. There never was and there never will be. It's us," you placed your hand on your lower stomach. "and now this little one as well."

------

Originally, Jessie was planning to Zoom with her family over the weekend to share the good news. You both agreed to wait until the first trimester was over before you'd tell friends and others, but Jessie simply couldn't wait to tell her family. The morning after your doctor's visit, she was in the family chat coordinating a group call for that evening.

"You ready?" Jessie asked as she gave your leg a squeeze as you sat next to each other at the table, chairs pressed up against one another's, laptop set up in front of you. She was practically buzzing with excitement. You nodded and kissed her sweetly.

"Least if I have to make an impromptu disappearance, to you know, heave up dinner, they'll understand now," you said with a sly grin.

"Are you feeling sick?" Jessie asked, energy changing completely as she examined your features.

"No," you chuckled as you rubbed her leg. "I'm feeling fi-"

Your response was cut off by voices joining the call. You all waved and greeted each other cheerfully, exchanging some initial pleasantries and updates before Jessie's sister cut in.

"Okay, what's the deal. What's with the call, Jess?"

Jessie held back a smile, but her eyes shone bright and her posture opened up at the prospect of what she was about to relay. You both looked at one another. You gave her a subtle nod of encouragement.

"Uh, well," Jessie said somewhat melodramatically. She glanced to you again. "we, um, have some news."

Jessie caught on the video the way you watched her adoringly. She smiled as she retrieved the ultrasound photo off of the table. She took a small breath before lifting it up to the camera, ensuring it was in focus.

She wore a bright smile and watched their reactions intently, her eyes darting from picture to picture on the screen.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Oh my God!"

"Holy shit!"

A scatter of excited exclamations came through the laptop speakers and Jessie watched on, beaming, as her family reacted with joy.

"I know we haven't talked with any of you about this at all, so it probably seems sudden, but we really wanted this and we're ready. We're so excited."

"Honey," her mom said warmly, "you've been far more mature than your age since you were a kid. I have no doubt you're ready. You'll be amazing parents. Congratulations! I'm so happy - I'm going to be a grandmother! And Y/N, you are glowing already."

"It's probably just the sheen from my morning, afternoon, and evening sickness," you quipped before blushing. "I'm sorry. Thank you," you finished measuredly. Jessie just smiled at you and gave your leg a reassuring squeeze.

"I had it so bad when I was pregnant with Jessie," her mom went on in immediate empathy. "If you're like me, it should go away in the second trimester. How far along are you?"

"Ah, so it's really Jessie's fault," you joked as you gave her a playful nudge. "We're 8 weeks along."

By the end of the call, each of Jessie's family members had committed to flying out sooner rather than later to sneak in the first of what they all hoped were more frequent visits.

They also blocked off their calendars for when the baby was due or the month or two after so they could visit in shifts to help. It was bordering on overwhelming, but Jessie was grateful. You loved her family, taking them on more as your true family than your biological one by this point, so you were thrilled, too.

"It's no wonder you turned out so well," you commented affectionately as Jessie was closing the laptop. "I mean, you're sweet by nature, but growing up with such a loving and supportive family, it's not a surprise you've been able to become the person you are today." Your gaze dropped momentarily. "I hope we can provide an environment as loving and warm as you had growing up."

"We absolutely will," Jessie said without hesitation. "I know you didn't have that growing up, but just you noting this shows how much you want things to be different for our child." You nodded and Jessie saw you actively working to keep darker thoughts at bay.

"You're right. I know exactly what I don't want for our child. I know what I needed but didn't get growing up, and I want to make sure they have it," you said as you rest your hand on your stomach. Jessie leaned in and kissed your shoulder.

"You're going to be an amazing mom. I don't have a doubt in my mind about that." She saw a shred of insecurity still showing on your face. "You know how important family is to me, I wouldn't want to start one with someone who didn't fit into the vision of what I want for one."

"You're too sweet to me," you told her as you squeezed her hand.

"My family's your family, you know," Jessie reminded you. "And now, we'll have our own."

----------

That evening, Jessie laid in bed, splayed out and relaxed, her arm behind her head as she read her book and waited for you to come to bed.

She heard you come in from the bathroom and continued reading as she felt the bed shift as you climbed on. She was mid-sentence when you plucked the book out of her hands. Her hand remained in mid-air, a frown on her face as she processed what was going on. Further confusion set in when you rest your hands on her torso and straddled her hips, clad in pajamas which, as usual, consisted of just an oversized night shirt and underwear.

"How's your book?"

Jessie's frown lingered as she stared at you a moment. "It's fine," she said noncommittally, skepticism in her voice as she finally lowered her hand, letting it rest at the crook of your knee.

"What part are you at?" you said lightly, shifting subtly as you readjusted your position. A jolt shot through Jessie, centering between her legs under the friction and heat of your body. Her whole body began to tense up at your newfound proximity, but she did her best to relax.

With how you'd been feeling, you hadn't slept together in a couple of weeks. Reflecting upon it, Jessie felt ridiculous for even remotely considering it a dry spell. Before you, she'd gone for months or even years at a time without sex. She wasn't a one-night-stand or casual kind of person, and truthfully, the lack of sex didn't bother her. However, since being with you, she couldn't get enough. And since that fateful morning when this whole journey started, she'd been insatiable.

Sure, sometimes you went weeks without sex because she'd be at tournaments, but that was different. Even when you first started seeing each other, though Jessie was fully ready to take it slow, by date two she was in your bed - and stayed there until the following afternoon.

Regardless, she was dedicated to ensuring you didn't feel any pressure to have sex unless you were feeling completely better and ready. And, well, her lonely cock starting to harden in her boxers and jut up into you would harm her cause.

She did her best to think about her book.

"Uh, just reading about how the allocation of parking spaces affects property values and urban development," Jessie said evenly, keeping her eyes trained on yours as you listened attentively.

"Mm. That part's really interesting. Have you gotten to the part about urban heat islands?" You asked, dropping your gaze briefly as you toyed with the hem of her shirt, your hands sneaking under and resting on her stomach once more. Your thumb slowly grazed along her abs. She clenched her jaw briefly.

Right. She somehow forgot in the moment that you already read it. In fact, you're the one who recommended it for her.

"No," she replied, doing her best to not sound abrupt. She gave herself a moment. "I haven't gotten there yet."

"Hm," you voiced as you leaned forward, removing one hand from under her shirt to retrieve the book again. Jessie swallowed a groan as you settled back down on her. She swore you rolled your hips as you did so. You opened the book.

"The prioritization of parking spaces in urban planning not only influences property values but also reshapes architectural design..."

Your mouth was moving, but your words weren't registering in Jessie's mind anymore as you, not so subtly now, began to slowly grind yourself against her cock. Jessie's gaze shot to the ceiling as she tried to retain control.

Her breathing was quiet, but laboured, her teeth now grit together as she returned her eyes to see you oh so nonchalantly reading to her as you rocked your hips and idly traced across Jessie's stomach with your thumb.

With the heat of your core, thinly veiled by your skimpy panties no less, along with your sensual movements made this a losing battle for Jessie. Her brow furrowed with concentration as she tried valiantly to ward off her arousal, but the blood rushing to her member made it impossible.

"Uh, babe?" Jessie interjected, her voice more strained than it should've been as she subconsciously gripped your legs that were gorgeously spread around her hips.

"Hm?" You asked innocently, your movements stilling as you lifted your gaze from the book to look at her. Jessie's eyes fell to your core before rising back up.

"I'd really like to listen to you, but, um," she swallowed inadvertently, "you might have to move."

"What's wrong?" You asked innocently once more, the expression on your face giving no hint of what you intended as you began to leisurely grind against her growing length once more.

Jessie bit back another moan and her hands came up to your waist now. "You know what you're doing," Jessie said, a slight edge in her voice.

"Oh? Well, thank you," you said as you set down the book once more and gave a flirty shrug of your shoulders. Jessie exhaled audibly as she fought an eye roll.

"Babe. I'm trying to be good, here," Jessie went on, her response stilted as she was distracted by the way you rose and lowered against her.

"No need," you told her simply, not letting up.

Jessie blew out a breath, digging her head back into the pillow and looking up as she struggled to focus on anything other than the way her length was straining up against the fabric of her boxers and how a pulse would jump through her every time you brushed against the head of her cock.

"I take it this means you're feeling better?" She grunted out as she met your gaze again, doing her best to ignore the way your whole body sensually moved as you teased her.

"At this moment in time? Yes," you smirked.

"What brought this on?" Jessie inquired further. You cocked your head to the side in mock contemplation before you responded.

"As I was getting ready, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. You're sweet, thoughtful, intelligent, funny," you paused, "and then I came in here and was reminded of how incredibly hot you are, too." You leaned in, capturing her lips between your teeth and tugging before kissing her. "Besides, I haven't had any action or relief."

Jessie shoulders slumped as she recalled you teasing her about her extracurriculars in the shower. Another blush formed on her face.

"The doctor said we're allowed to have intercourse throughout the pregnancy. Or as I call it, dirty, hungry, needy, rabid fucking."

You really were worked up.

"Hey, stud?" You asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you pulled Jessie's earlobe between your teeth and gave it a teasing lick. "She was pretty impressed with how quickly you knocked me up."

Jessie's eyes rolled into the back of her head, made worse by how you gave a particularly needy roll of your hips against her now rock hard cock. She was already aching and desperate for release.

"Guess it's a good thing we always used protection before," you whispered. "Who knows - you might've put a baby in me that second date." Jessie groaned. "God, this would be our fourth or fifth by now."

"Oh shit," Jessie said, her voice both warning and pleading. She grabbed your waist and rolled you both so she was on top. She held herself up and off of you as she looked down at you with a bemused look. "I'm gonna blow if you don't stop. Let me take care of you first."

You looked up at her with a very self-satisfied look and Jessie narrowed her eyes playfully at you.

"Yeah, you fucking know exactly what you're doing." She huffed before stealing a quick kiss. "You love it."

"Love making you blow your load without me ever really touching you? Yeah," you replied nonchalantly with a mischievous quirk of your shoulders.

Jessie exhaled and let her head fall before smiling and lifting it once more. She gave it a shake.

"I don't think I could love you more," she said with an amused laugh and began shifting down the bed.

She lifted your shirt and very gently kneaded your breasts, being mindful of how sensitive they've been. She kept it short, not wanting to push you, but leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking lightly and flicking her tongue across it. She grinned as your back arched off the bed.

Jessie continued to kiss her way down your body. Her hands grasped your waist and she planted extra soft and tender kisses on your still-flat stomach.

"I can't wait until you start to show," Jessie nearly groaned.

Jessie had to keep herself in check. The image of you in her head - you walking around the apartment, one hand on your back and the other rubbing your belly that was so full and heavy with her baby - had her throbbing. She would've never anticipated these urges, but you being pregnant with her baby not only made her love you impossibly more, but it ignited some primal part of her DNA. Thankfully, you didn't seem to mind.

She blushed at how she found herself absently grinding her still-restrained hard-on against the mattress.

"Mm," you moaned, oblivious to Jessie's pining, your legs fidgeting in arousal as you shifted beneath her.

Jessie stayed on task. She shuffled further down, hooking her fingers into your panties and inching them down your legs. She pulsed as a string of cum stretched from your dripping pussy to your underwear as she removed them.

You bent your knees and planted your feet by Jessie's shoulders as she began to kiss her way down the inside of your thighs. She loved the way you gripped the sheets in anticipation.

Jessie teased you, making her tongue firm as she traced up and down between your lips, before softening and giving a faint lick across your sensitive clit, relishing how you jerked in response. She dipped her tongue inside of you, making several passes to scoop up the arousal she found there. She swallowed.

"I swear you taste even better somehow," she said, mesmerized.

A small whimper worked its way up your throat followed by her name tumbling out of your mouth. That was all the encouragement Jessie needed. She wrapped her arms under and around your thighs, tugging you down the bed and tight against her face as she buried herself in your pussy like there was nothing in this world she wanted more.

Jessie's face rocked up and down and side to side as she devoutly looked after you. Your moans of pleasure were like music to her ears.

It wasn't long before you gripped Jessie's forearm, nails digging in and you panted, "Fuck. Jessie, I'm gonna cum."

Soon, you were convulsing, your hips jerking off of the bed and into Jessie's face while you gasped high in your throat. While she relented to some degree, letting you unwind slightly, eventually slowly lapping at your entrance to drink up your juices, Jessie's mouth didn't leave you.

You were just starting to relax when her slow, languid licks started to pick up again. Low moans started to fill the room once more as your hand came to Jessie's head, playing softly with her hair.

"Oh shit, Jess," you whimpered as you began to subtly grind into her once more.

She turned her attention again to your clit and even with your thighs flexed around her head, she could hear the way your breath hitched as she tended to you.

She opened her eyes as she felt your legs start to quiver. By now, your fingers were digging into her crown, sure signs that you were nearing the brink for a second time.

You gripped Jessie's hair and gave a sharp tug. The force was enough that it jerked her head forward. Alarm went through her momentarily, worried she'd done something wrong when you spoke urgently.

"I need you up here. I need you inside of me," you begged, words clipped as you struggled to speak. They weren't even out of your mouth as you grabbed her wrist and tugged again.

Jessie was all too willing. She was climbing up your body before her mind even fully registered it. Her gaze was fixed on yours as she positioned herself between your legs, so caught up in the moment she only now remembered she still had her boxers on. She went to move back to remove them, but you grabbed her by the waist pulling her in again.

"No, I need you now," you told her desperately as you pulled her into a kiss. She moaned heavily into it, a second later reaching down to open her boxers to release her painfully erect cock. She broke your kiss momentarily as a small grunt caught in her throat when her fingers met the wet fabric of the front of her boxers, damp with precum.

She kissed you hard again as she reached in and pulled out her cock. In her frenzy, she uncharacteristically blindly poked around, fumbling a couple of times before positioning herself appropriately and slipping inside with greater force than intended. She apprehensively held herself still inside of you, relaxing as soon as she heard your wanting moan. Your hands were immediately on her ass, gripping hard and urging her to move.

Jessie began pumping into you with urgency. The part of her brain that was working determinedly to delay her orgasm was losing resolve quickly as her senses were overwhelmed with you.

She grunted, pulling back from your kiss to look down at you as she continued to make love to you. Your lips were parted and your cheeks were flushed as you held her gaze. Most notably though, your eyes were dark with lust and you ran your fingers through her hair, caressing her.

"This is the exact position I was in when you put this baby into me."

A stuttering groan fell from Jessie's lips and she threw her head back, eyes fixing on the ceiling. She panted above you, nearly wincing as she tried to hold off, but her impending climax became undeniable.

She lowered herself onto you, her ragged breath in your ear as she pumped into you. A desperate whimper escaped her as she started to speak. "You know what this means. You're truly mine now. And I belong to you. We're connected forever."

Whether it was her actions or words that did it, your blissful cry was suddenly in her ear and you gripped her length so tightly she immediately came with a small yell, her cum pouring into you with strong, jetting pulses. She gasped several times as her climax washed over her.

She collapsed on top of you as the tension began to drain from her body. You were both so spent and exhausted that neither of you spoke as you stayed in your embrace. Your fingers tiredly weaved through her hair, absently caressing, until sometime later your hand stilled and your breathing evened. She peeked one eye open - you were asleep. The last thing Jessie was aware of was the soothing warmth of your body as she fell asleep inside of you.

[thebibliosphere]

Wait, is Jason in Gotham Knights body horror? Because it doesn't feel like his body even tho he's controlling it? (He died, he came back, it's not the same and never will be)

Or is it more analogous to puberty and feeling like you don't know anything about your body anymore?

Just having thoughts about that boy again

I think Jason in Gotham Knights is very much connected with his physical body. It's his biggest weapon, possibly more so than his guns, given his lasting connection to the Lazarus Pit and the power it gives him.

His backstory talks about building himself up to peak physical condition into the absolute unit he is now, and you can either see that as someone trying to reconnect with their physical self or someone vowing never to be small or weak again.

I tend to think of it as both. It's a reclamation of his physical form but also a transformation into something bigger and stronger that ensures he's the scariest, meanest-looking mother fucker in the room. Basically someone you can't underestimate as a threat.

(Try not to think too hard about the fact that he now largely resembles Bruce in stature, that he is now the group's heavy hitter, the most menacing and the most likely to strike fear into the heart of his opponents, and that Jason molded himself into the person he needed to be rescued by as a child. Don't do it. Do not. I am normal about this.)

But he obviously struggles with feeling present mentally sometimes.

You'll see him zoning out occasionally, touching the J-shaped scar on his face before violently shaking himself back into the present.

He has panic attacks while playing a dance video game with a coffin in it—a coffin his character becomes trapped in because he's not moving fast enough. (hello, trauma)

He's angry all the time and so relieved when Barbra expresses her own rage at something because, yes, finally, someone else is letting their emotions out instead of bottling it up (Dick).

His emails are littered with orders for self-help books, emails from his therapist moving his sessions around, and concerned messages from his friends (Roy comes to mind) saying if he needs to get out of Gotham, they'll make it happen.

Alfred holding him while he sobs over losing Bruce still breaks me every time. I have to pause the game and walk around my house until I feel normal again.

And then there's the cut scene where Dick asks, "Hey, remember that time we all [insert funny thing here]," and Jason admits, somewhat angrily, that no, he doesn't because Lazarus took entire swaths of memories from him and he hates how he can't connect with people the way he used to and he hates the way they all look at him (the way Dick is looking at him now) when he admits he doesn't remember something they clearly loved about the old him: the version of him who didn't have volatile mood swings or made people flinch when he did something as mundane as handle a kitchen knife -- the undead monster he came back as*.

The fact that Dick then contrives to recreate this memory so Jason can be included in a newer version of it -- while also giving him what is arguably a weapon -- fucks me up every time. Dick just yeets a kitchen knife at him, trusting that Jason will catch it, and then just steamrolls over Jason's rightful 'what the fuck' expression with "Hey, we're making food. Get dicing."

And Jason knows what they're all doing. He's aware of it, and he gets the teeniest, tiniest smile before smothering it out. Except he can't quite. He's still smiling as he chops the vegetables. And yes, they're all hopeless at cooking compared to him, and he knows he's going to end up taking over, but that's okay. Because this is for him. He gets to control it.

And that's how Jason gets to make a new memory, one where he is handed a weapon and gets to turn it into a genuine expression of nurturing and care.

Because he does care about them. He wouldn't conspire with Dick to bake Barbara's favorite childhood cookies if he didn't. He wouldn't try so hard to be gentle with Tim triggering the shit out of him while he's struggling with his grief. He just doesn't always know how to express it because he doesn't always know what he's feeling.

Is his anger valid? Or is this Lazarus Pit Rage? Is he being overly sensitive because of his trauma, or is everyone else underreacting because of their trauma? (Should he sign them all up for therapy, quite probably, yes.)

So, you could perhaps argue that Jason experiences body horror in the sense that he doesn't remember all the pieces of who he used to be. (Speaking as someone with severe memory loss from medical trauma, it's certainly a type of horror.) But I don't think it's because he's detached from it physically or doesn't feel in control of his body. I think it's his mind that worries him.

His body he can control. It's his mind that still sparks green sometimes.

---

*Re the scene with Tim when Tim calls the Talons monsters. "What about me? Do you think I'm a monster?"

No, they don't.

But Jason does. And it scares him shitless.

[hellothereobiwankenobi]

yellow ribbon on the door | chapter four

⟢ summary: Joel keeps finding excuses to see you.

⟢ pairing: joel miller x afab!reader (femme but not descriptive as to actual features)

⟢ tags: no outbreak au, flower shop au, idiots in love, small age gap, joel is 35 and reader is 29 about to be 30, reader is a war widow, operation desert storm mentioned, reader is a single mother to ellie, eventual smut, no beta reader we die like men

⟢ wc: 5.5k

⟢ authors notes: Hello, friends! It's been almost two weeks since my last update. I'm so sorry for that. I am a university student, so very regularly real life gets too busy for me to write. Very inconsiderate of the my professors to give me so much homework and distract me from my real passion if you ask me. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Also this is the longest chapter I have written yet... so enjoy!

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This afternoon marks the third time Joel has arrived unannounced at your flower store in the past three weeks. He explained that the last time he was here, he noticed one of your display tables had a wobble. That's all he said before setting his tools down, kneeling next to the faulty table leg, and getting to work. He worked in relative silence, allowing you to continue your daily duties undisturbed. Once he had evened out the legs and ensured they were secure, he gave you a curt goodbye and left without saying anything else. Two days later, he came again. This time, it was your front door. He stated the hinges were squeaky and needed to be oiled. The following week, he returned again. The faucet of the utility sink in your back storage room, where you wash used planter pots and fill your watering can, would drip even when turned off fully. It started to seem every time he came, he noticed something else that needed to be fixed.

Joel's surprise visits had become a semiweekly tradition. Despite the rocky past shared between you, having him there starts to feel normal. The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm like this. He would work on the myriad of repairs as you helped customers, fulfilled orders, or completed regular housekeeping around the shop, sneaking glances at each other whenever the other was distracted. 

With each visit, you see glimpses of the man Tommy described to you all those months ago—a quiet, stoic facade but protective and dependable.

One morning, he arrives before the store is open. You're on the front sidewalk, eyes closed, face scrunched, and both hands clutching a large bag of potting soil. At least nine matching bags are stacked outside the shop next to you.

You give up, drop the bag you're trying to drag inside, and wipe the sweat starting to accumulate at your temples. You don't know how to get them inside, but your current efforts are not working.

Joel jumps out of his truck and jogs over to where you are standing.

"Oh, good morning, Joel." Your breath comes out in huffs, the exertion apparent from your shaky voice. You gesture down at the bags of soil giving you so much trouble. "The delivery guy usually brings them in for me, but they were just sitting there when I got here."

Without saying anything, Joel tosses one bag over his left shoulder and tucks another under his right arm. He carries each bag of potting soil to the back storage as you stand in shock, wondering how strong could he really be?

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

It's mid-August, and Joel is adding extra supports to the ceiling to hold the crystal chandelier that illuminates the front showroom. His brows pull together as he takes the final support screw from between his teeth and inserts it into the ceiling with an electric drill. 

You're arranging baby pink alstroemeria and white carnations in a red-tinted vase at the front counter. A soft, unconscious smile pulls at your lips as you preen the bouquet before you. This is the kind of moment Joel likes the most. The kind that makes all his labors around the shop worth the effort. It's only the two of you. The store is quiet, apart from the same poppy tune you've been humming all morning. He can ignore all the world's demands outside and enjoy the peace that being with you like this brings.

"What's your favorite?" Joel's voice pulls you from your reverie. 

Your head jerks up, eyes wide in surprise. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What's your favorite flower?" He repeats.

It was a simple question, but you're taken aback. You aren't used to Joel asking you about yourself. Truthfully, you aren't used to him asking you anything.

You try to collect your thoughts. "Well, I like sunflowers. Primrose begonia. Mecardonia. Black-eyed Susan. Creeping Zinnia" 

A sudden wave of self-awareness washes over you. You feel a bit silly, rattling off half a dozen names. You let out a nervous laugh while your cheeks begin to warm. Adding in a rush, "Anything yellow. It's my favorite color."

If Joel notices your onset discomfort, he doesn't let it show. He returns his attention to screwing in the last support. 

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

Joel completes his efforts regarding the chandelier and makes a final trip from the shop to his work truck to return his tools. You want to catch him before he can make his usual silent goodbye. Tugging at the apron strings tied behind your back, you pull your head through the neck-straps, hanging it on a hook by the register. "Think I'll close up for an hour and grab something for lunch."

Joel turns around sharply at the sound of your voice, his dark eyes immediately finding you. He's just staring at you, so you continue, "Would you like to come with me?" 

The gears in his head start to work overtime. You want to get lunch. 

With him. 

Over the past several weeks, the two of you have spent countless hours together. You've seen each other more regularly than ever before. The idea of getting lunch together shouldn't fluster him like this… but it does.

You are still waiting for a reply.

Shit. Shit, say something, he mentally scolds himself.

"Yes." Is all he can force out.

You didn't realize it, but you had been holding your breath, waiting for his answer. The last time you presented him with a similar offer, he had blatantly shut it down. You crack a slight smile that develops into the kind that makes the corners of your eyes crinkle. "Okay, let me lock up real quick."

Joel brings the last of his tools to his truck and waits outside for you. You carry a camel-colored leather tote under one arm and meet him outside. Flipping a small sign that reads 'Be Back Soon' you lock the front door before dropping the keys into your purse.

"We can walk from here. One of the perks of being downtown." You lead the way to a coffee shop just around the block. It's the type of trendy business that has been popping up throughout the downtown district for the last several years. Joel would never go somewhere like this on his own. The crowds that frequent these places were a little too clean cut for his liking and don't typically mix with working-class folk like him.

The two of you enter and join the line to order. The café's interior is decorated in warm earth tones and natural wood.

"They have the best bagel sandwiches here." You look up at Joel with bright eyes and a broad smile, making his stomach flip. Giddy excitement is painted across your face. How could he think of food when you're looking at him like that?

Stepping up to the counter, you ask, "Can I get a medium iced caramel latte with extra drizzle and a toasted turkey bagel sandwich cut in half, please?"

The college-age barista behind the counter scribbles down your order on a palm-sized notepad before turning his attention to Joel. "And you, sir?"

Joel is still looking down at you, but his gaze is fixated on your bare upper arm. The short puff sleeves of your orange and white gingham linen dress left most of your arms on display. He imagines reaching out, just a few inches, and brushing his knuckles down the exposed skin—feeling how soft you are.

"Sir?" the barista repeats, louder this time.

This finally pulls Joel's attention back to the café. But his mind has been too preoccupied; he hasn't given any thought to what he wants to order. 

"Black coffee." He hurries out.

The barista looks a bit confused but writes it down on the notepad.

"You don't want anything to eat?" Your gaze is directed to Joel, concern swimming in your eyes.

He shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"Hmm," you're not convinced, but you choose not to push the issue. Opening your purse, you dig through the mess, looking for your wallet. The medium-sized bag seems bottomless, filled with old receipts, a pack of baby wipes, ChapStick, a travel-size bottle of sunscreen, a used tissue or two, and an astronaut LEGO figure you're sure Ellie dropped in there.

When you finally find it, Joel is already pulling a crumpled twenty-dollar bill from his own. He reaches around you and slides it across the counter to the barista. 

"Why did you do that?" you ask, shooting him a disapproving look. "I invited you. You need to finally let me thank you for all your help."

Maybe it was his southern upbringing but Joel could never imagine letting a lady pay for their date. 

Not that this is a date, he thinks to himself.

"I'll get it next time." You huff before marching off to find a table.

The two of you settle on a two-person table next to the front windows of the café, but the gravity of the situation quickly makes itself known. Sitting across from each other like this feels more intimate than it should.

Silence falls between you, both waiting for the other to break it first. You keep a small, practiced smile on your face, but hidden under the table, your fidgeting fingers betray you. Joel nervously bounces his knee, his posture too straight, and his usual stony expression occupies his face.

"So," you can’t take the silence anymore and ask, "Is Sarah ready for the first day of school next week?" hoping to ease the growing tension.

The butterflies raising havoc in Joel's stomach cease at the mention of Sara. Like all proud fathers, his favorite subject is his daughter. His expression softens, and his shoulders relax. "Yeah, first day of high school. Makes me feel old."

"I understand what you mean." You let out a small laugh. "Ellie's starting first grade. She's so excited to leave kindergarten and start 'big girl school.'"

Joel nods, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. The memory of Sarah in the same scenario comes to mind: "I reckon I was more scared than Sarah was for her first day. I walk her up to the classroom. As soon as she sees they have a rabbit for a class pet, she runs for it. Didn't look back once."

The atmosphere lightens as you discuss how nervous Ellie's transition to elementary school is making you. Deep down, Ellie is a sweet girl. She loves animals, likes to play with the younger kids she meets during trips to the park, and is fascinated by all things outer space. But you're also aware that she is a handful at the best of times.

The barista arrives at the table, holding your food and drinks on a black serving tray. He lays your respective drinks down and places a white ceramic plate in front of you before wishing you both a good meal. 

Looking over at Joel's lonely mug of black coffee, you place half of the bagel sandwich on a paper napkin and slide it across the table. As he opens his mouth to object, you shoot him one of those mom looks that reads, 'Don't even try to argue.' His mouth snaps shut, knowing this isn't a fight he will win.

You pick up the other half of the sandwich from the plate with both hands and take a bite. It's just as good as you remember. Washing it down with a sip of your latte, you wrap your lips around the straw. Joel becomes distracted by the seemingly innocent action as he watches your mouth carefully. Absent-mindedly, your tongue runs over your plush lips after removing the straw from between them. His mind drifts again, imagining what else he'd like to see your lips wrapped around.

Before you can catch him staring, Joel clears his throat and pushes those thoughts away. "Why a flower store?"

"There's no better gift than a bouquet of your favorite flowers." You set down your sandwich and wipe your hands on a napkin. "When I was a kid, my dad would come home from work and surprise my mom with flowers' just because'. I'll never forget the look on her face every time he did. Thought maybe I could be a part of that for someone else."

You take another drink before continuing, "And I've been digging in the garden for as long as I can remember. I never went to college, so plants are the only thing I really know."

Joel can understand that. He had been working his trade since he was fourteen. His father would dictate that he accompany him to different work sites during school breaks. His dad had insisted it would 'help him become a man,' but Joel knew the real reason was the family could use the money. After high school graduation, college seemed like a distant fantasy for him. He was a decent student, but the family's financial situation hadn't improved over the years. Joel knew his younger brother would have to take his place with their father if he had left. Tommy was only twelve at the time.

Eventually, Tommy finished his education and joined the Army. Joel stayed home and worked as an independent carpenter until he finished his enlistment. That's when the two brothers agreed to start Miller Brothers Contracting.

"Just before I lost my husband, I realized I didn't have a life outside of being a mom and an Army wife. So, when the life insurance money came, I put half away for Ellie's college fund. The rest I used to help open the shop."

Joel sipped his coffee as you spoke. He is sure that life must have been lonely. He knows firsthand what it's like to raise a daughter alone.

"You're not from here. Why stay in Austin?" Joel can't stop himself now. He's gotten a small look at who you really are and wants to see it all.

You squirm in your seat momentarily while thinking of an answer, and Joel wonders if he has overstepped.

"My hometown," you look down at your drink and stir the glass with the straw, apprehensive to continue, "isn't the type of place with a lot of opportunities. All the guys I grew up with joined the military, and all the girls got married right after graduation and started having babies. It's just not the kind of life I want for Ellie. I want her to have every opportunity I never had."

Joel can only nod his head. Your dejected look pulls hard on his heart, making it ache.

Without thinking, he blurts out, "Tommy's comin' over for dinner this weekend. You and Ellie should come on by."

"Really?" Your eyes jump from your coffee to the man sitting across from you. The beaming smile you give him melts away the aching in his chest. "That would be great!"

"Five o'clock, Saturday," Joel says before checking the time on his phone. "I gotta go. But, yeah, Saturday." He stands from his seat.

He exits the café, phone still in hand, and dials Tommy's number. 

"Tommy," he speaks into the receiver, "I need you to come over Saturday."

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

Standing on Joel's front porch, holding a bottle of expensive French wine that you can't pronounce the name of, you take a deep breath before knocking on the front door. Just before 5:00 PM, you and Ellie pull into his driveway.

This is just like the other times you've been here. It's nothing new, you remind yourself, trying to untangle the knots forming in your stomach.

The door swings open, and Sarah greets you both with a smile. "Hi, Mrs. Williams." She steps aside, allowing you two to step inside.

The sound of glass shattering echoes through the home, followed by a loud 'Damnit, Tommy' coming from the kitchen. 

"Dad and Uncle Tommy are in the kitchen." Sarah winces at the sound of broken glass. "They might need your help."

You let out a small laugh and shake your head. The Miller brothers never cease to entertain. Ellie and Sarah follow behind as you enter the kitchen.

Turning the corner, you see the two brothers bickering in front of the stove. There is a glass jar of spaghetti sauce splattered across the floor.

"I told you not to put that there." Joel points a wooden spoon at his brother's chest.

"Maybe if you looked where you were goin' for once, you wouldn't've knocked the damn thing over." Tommy shoots back. You imagine this is what they have been like since they were kids.

You clear your throat, and both men see the three of you watching them fight.

Tommy beams, stepping over the mess painting the kitchen floor, and bends to wrap his arms around Ellie. He picks her up into his arms and plants a quick kiss on her cheek. "How's my favorite baby girl?"

Ellie wraps her little arms around his neck but turns her nose up at the question, "I'm not a baby, Uncle Tommy. I go to big girl school now."

"You do?" he plays along as though he doesn't know. "Well, shit, kiddo. Pretty soon, your mama's gonna be teachin' you to drive."

"Tommy," You give a soft smack to his upper arm "language, please."

"Sorry, Sugar." He turns his head to you, a cheeky grin taking over his face. He gives Ellie one more kiss before returning her to the ground. He wraps his arms around you next, squeezing you tight. As he pulls away, he slips the bottle of wine from your hand.

Tommy lets out a low whistle as he reads the label "The good stuff. You tryin' to get me drunk?"

"Like you ever need help with that." You roll your eyes. "It was a gift from a client for doing their wedding arrangements on short notice."

Tommy nods to Joel over his shoulder, "I'll put this somewhere he can't knock it over." He exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room.

Joel looks ready to start round two with his brother but stops in his tracks when you turn your attention to him. You give him a small wave, accompanied by a gentle smile, and he forgets whatever heated remark he was going to make.

"Hey, Ellie." Sarah crouches down to her eye level. "Wanna play with bubbles in the backyard again?"

Ellie nods so fast that you think she'll make herself dizzy. The two girls exit through the glass sliding door and disappear into the late August sun, leaving you and Joel alone.

You look down at the mess on the floor. Taking a large step over it, you reach for a roll of paper towels on the counter. Crouching down, you collect the larger pieces of glass before discarding them in the trash can. Joel lowers himself to the floor beside you, and you hand him a wad of paper towels.

"So, I'm guessing we are having spaghetti." You tease.

"Was supposed'a be." He mumbles.

The two of you work to mop up the remaining spilled sauce. When the paper towels absorb the last few drops, you look up to see Joel is closer than you realize. His face is only inches away from your own. Heat burns at your cheeks and your breath hitches in your throat. Shooting up to a standing position, you throw away the soiled paper towels.

"Let's see what we can put together." you rush out, turning to wash your hands at the sink.

Joel stands back in amazement as you expertly scurry around the kitchen, making a single jar of pasta sauce stretch enough for five people. To the jar of premade sauce, you add two cans of crushed tomatoes and a tin of tomato paste he didn't know he had in his pantry. As the sauce thickens in a medium sized soup pot on the stove, you sprinkle in several dried seasons, stirring as needed. A pot of salted water comes to a boil as you place the pasta inside. After raiding his fridge for scraps, you pull together a salad from half a head of lettuce and miscellaneous garden vegetables.

When you find out the men hadn't thought of what to serve for dessert, you dig through the pantry to find a half-full bag of chocolate chips and just enough flour and sugar to make a single batch of cookies. You roll dough balls between your palms and place them on an oiled baking sheet. 

The comfortable silence that has taken over the kitchen as you worked breaks when Sarah and Ellie come running into the house from the backyard. Tommy had found himself outside playing with the girls, and now they are trying to outrun him. Tommy throws open the sliding door, baring his teeth and growling while he looks around the room, putting on his best monster impression. He catches sight of Ellie and bolts toward her. She bursts into laughter and runs to hide between you and the kitchen counter, trying to obscure herself behind your legs.

Tommy takes slow, heavy steps, getting closer and closer. His gaze moves from the laughing girl to the individual balls of cookie dough on the counter before you.

"Tommy, don't even think about it." You warn, "You'll ruin your appetite."

Tommy's eyes shift back to Ellie, who is still hiding behind your legs. He gives her a quick nod, a mischievous smile stretching across his face. He lunges forward, grabbing three cookie dough balls off the baking sheet and shouts "Girls, run!"

The three troublemakers race for the backyard, laughing the whole way.

A soft 'Damn it, Tommy' leaves your lips, but there is no malice behind the words.

Joel chuckles to himself at the exchange. A month ago, the same scene playing out in front of him would have left him seething. A bitter taste would have coated his tongue for the rest of the night. But as he has come to understand his feelings and gotten to know you better, the relationship between you and Tommy warms his heart. Add the fact that seeing you in his kitchen like this felt so domestic, so right. Like it is always supposed to be like this.

When dinner is ready, Joel calls out for Tommy and the girls to come inside. The five of you cram yourselves around a small, circular dining table. Throughout the meal, everyone bumps knees and is nearly rubbing shoulders, but no one minds.

Joel scolds Tommy for showing Sarah and Ellie a trick where he can pull a piece of spaghetti noodle from his nose that he learned while in boot camp. Sarah tells you how she has already planned every outfit for her first week of high school. Ellie shows the whole table how Uncle Tommy taught her to make farting sounds with her armpit. Then it's your turn to scold Tommy.

You sit back from the content chaos and take a sip from your glass of wine. You can't remember the last time you ate a meal like this as a big family. For years, it had been just you and Ellie. Before that, it was usually just you alone. But being here, watching the mayhem unfold, makes you feel whole.

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

After dinner, you sit with the two brothers on the deck overlooking the backyard. You notice Joel must have bought a third Adirondack chair since you were here last, which is nice as you no longer have to sit on the arm of Tommy's. You're explaining to Tommy all the work Joel has been doing around the shop; all the while, he throws his brother knowing grins.

Joel tries his best to block him out and listen to you speak. Usually, he would shrink away if someone were to gush about him like this, but it was coming from you. Your praises are making his heart race and filling him with a sense of pride he has never felt before.

You hear tiny feet stomping up the stairs, connecting the deck to the grassy yard and across to where you sit. 

"Mommy, Sarah said she can take me to the park. She said it has two slides, a little one and a big one, and a swing set." Ellie's eyes are wide with excitement. "Can I go?"

"Well," you draw out skeptically, thinking it over. You trust Sarah to be responsible, but letting Ellie out of your near proximity has always been anxiety-provoking.

"C'mon, now." Tommy pipes up, "Let the poor girl go swing." He takes a drink from the brown beer bottle in his hand. He had started drinking during dinner and now was on bottle number five.

You shift your face to him, about to say something about Uncle Tommy being a bad influence, but then your eyes turn to Joel. Sarah is his daughter. If he thinks she is mature enough to do it, you would say yes.

"Why don't you ask Sarah's daddy if it's okay." You give your daughter a reassuring smile and point to Joel.

Ellie turns her attention to Joel, "The asshole."

You think your heart has stopped beating. Your very coherent thought leaves your mind as the horror of what Ellie said settles around you. 

Tommy nearly chokes on his drink. He erupts into a screaming fit of laughter, squeezing his eyes shut as tears threaten to stream down his cheeks. 

"Ellie!" Your voice is shaky and panicked. You turn to Joel, face burning hot and crimson from mortification. You try to put on an apologetic smile, but your face feels like it's going numb. "I-I'm so sorry. I have, I have no idea where she heard."

"Mommy, you said that," Ellie replies nonchalantly as though she doesn't understand how you forgot.

"My love," your pitch is a bit too high to be natural. An artificial sweetness becomes present. "Remember when we talked about not repeating what Mommy says at home?" 

Ellie still doesn't see the problem with what she said. She shrugs her shoulders and gives a slight shake of her head.

"Okay, Ellie. Go to the park with Sarah." The unnatural sweetness is still in your voice.

Ellie runs off to rejoin Sarah without a second thought.

You shoot to your feet, refusing to look at either of the men next to you. "I'm going to grab another glass of wine." You rush into the house, clutching your empty wine glass, and slam the sliding door behind you.

Tommy wipes the tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. His sides are sore and he feels like his face is going to split in half. He slaps a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Well, at least you ain't gotta wonder what she thinks about you anymore."

You fumble with the bottle of wine as you uncork it, pouring the burgundy liquid into the crystal glass. You throw back the entire glass before pouring another. 

Your heart rate has almost returned to normal when Joel enters the kitchen. 

A second wave of guilt washes over you again. You can't bring yourself to look at him. "Joel, I am so sorry."

"It's okay." he offers as he steps closer to you.

"No, really." Your voice grows small. "I'm so sorry. I never should have said that in front of Ellie, and I especially never should have said that about you.

"It's okay." He repeats.

You place the wine glass on the counter and stare down at your hands, fingers fidgeting. "When I said that, we barely knew each other." The more you speak, the more nervous you become. The fear of ruining your already fragile new relationship with Joel terrifies you. "You've been so amazing with all the help around the shop. I feel so awful. I just—"

Joel grabs you, wrapping his large hands around your upper arms. "It's okay."

You finally look at him, eyes wide. 

"I've been a real asshole to you since we met." Joel pauses. "And… I'm sorry."

The sensation of relief you feel from his words is overwhelmed by something different. 

Joel is touching you. 

He's never touched you before. The big hands and strong fingers you've caught yourself daydreaming about more than once are currently wrapped around your upper arms. Warm skin on warm skin. His palms are calloused from two decades of hard labor, but there is a softness to them as well that you didn't expect. 

Joel seems to realize this at the same time you do. He lets go of your arms and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The warmth from where his skin touched yours is gone within an instant.

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

The sun was setting when Sarah and Ellie returned from the park. Joel, Tommy and you all sat in the living room. The brothers sit on opposite sides of the brown leather couch while you occupy a black recliner. The television was tuned to a Texas Rangers game, but none of you were watching it.

You and Joel sit in a comfortable silence as Tommy fights to keep his eyes open. Though he refuses to admit it, he definitely had one too many tonight. 

Sarah and Ellie enter through the front door. Without saying a word, Ellie climbs into your lap, rests her little cheek against your chest, and closes her eyes.

"Did you two have fun at the park?" You ask, wrapping both arms around your daughter.

Ellie nods her head against your chest, eyes still closed.

Sarah sits on the couch between Joel and Tommy. She leans her head on her father's shoulder and wraps her arms around his.

"Think it's time for the little ones to get some sleep." You tease, rubbing Ellie's back as her breaths become slow and even.

"Joel, can I sleep here tonight?" Tommy slurs. 

"Yeah, go ahead." Joel agrees. The idea of Tommy behind the wheel in this state would terrify anyone. And the last thing Joel wants to do is pick up his younger brother from the Travis County Jail for another DUI.

Tommy pushes off the couch and stands on shaky legs. Once he finds his balance, he shoots you a toothy grin. "Nighty night, Sugar."

"Goodnight, Tommy." You let out a breathy laugh. Tommy was always Tommy, regardless of his sobriety level.

Tommy grabs the staircase's railing and climbs each step as carefully as he can in this state. Joel watches him, making sure there aren't any unfortunate accidents about to happen. 

Sarah also stands from the couch, stretching before wishing Joel and you a goodnight.

"We should probably get going, too." You shift Ellie in your arms, making carrying her to the car easier. You rise to your feet and look to Joel. "Thanks again for having us over."

He's on his feet in an instant. "Course, anytime." 

Joel races to the front door, holding it open for you. You walk toward the driveway where you had parked your car. Securing your hold on Ellie with one arm, you fish your keys out of your pocket with the other, clicking the unlock button on the key fob. Joel moves around you, opening the back passenger door so you can place Ellie into her car seat. Joel stays there, hand on the door as you secure the belt over your sleeping daughter. Once Ellie is strapped in, you step out of the way so Joel can gently shut the door.

"Y'all two can stay." Joel offers. He knew the three glasses of wine you drank weren't enough to get you drunk, but he still worried about you driving back to the city when it was so dark outside "I can kick Tommy outta the guest room and onta the couch."

"Or you girls can sleep in my bed, and I'll take the couch." Joel was ever the southern gentleman, offering his own room so you and Ellie would be comfortable.

"Sounds like you're just trying to get me in your bed, Joel." you tease, flashing him a flirtatious smile. 

Maybe you were more drunk than Joel initially thought.

Joel's heart starts to race, and he swallows thickly despite how dry his mouth has suddenly become, "I-I wasn't implyin'—"

"I'm just messing with you." You laugh. Your smile is so big it forces your eyes half closed.

Joel's mind is moving a million miles a minute, and he isn't sure how to respond.

Before he can formulate a sentence in reply, you are walking around the front of your car and climbing into the driver's seat. You start the engine, give Joel a polite wave goodbye, and pull out onto his street, driving into the night.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

⟢ authors notes: I think I must be ovulating because writing Tommy's scene where he's playing with Ellie has me feeling some type of way. But can you tell how much I love Tommy?

Also, I'm trying to keep this story as realistic as possible. I've put a lot of research into grief, military life in the 1990's and early 2000's, and the general attitude of the continue during that time it for later chapters. The one thing I did take artistic liberty with is that someone is watching a Rangers game in Austin. I know that technically Astros territory, but fuck the Astros.

⟢ tag list: @koshkaj-blog @orcasoul @damneddamsy @legoemma @isabella-rose-trastamara @hoddystark @suzysface @speaktothehandpeasants @anoverwhelmingdin @orodaeh

[freddleafton12345-blog]

Movie Shadow x fem! Reader! 18+ only! Reader can be mobian or human!))

You told Tom you wanted to go out and try your new skates that he got you for your birthday. He agreed, but told you to be careful.

Were you? Yes

Did you still fall and scuff your knees open? Yes

"You have to be very cautious, especially on cement road like the driveway." The ebony hedgehog warned you, currently tending to your wounds.

Your lover was none other than Shadow the Hedgehog. So strong, so deadly, but so caring.

You giggled. "Relax, Shads. I've suffered worse! Honest! Oh-" you blushed when he kissed the bandages on your knees.

"I can help you. But we need a more suitable environment. More even ground that isn't bumpy from small pebbles." He got onto his motorcycle, holding a hand out. "My lady.."

"Such a gentleman~!" You took his hand, allowing him to pull you up behind him. Once you wrapped your arms around him, he zoomed off.

"WOOHOOO~!! YEAH!" You raised a fist into the air as Shadow swerved through traffic, ignoring the honking of the cars.

As he drove, he handed you his phone. "You can have control of the Playlist if you'd like. I got speakers installed onto this."

"Thanks, Shads!" You picked a song, then tucked his phone safely into your pocket, going back to hugging him.

The Hedgehog smirked. "Ah, My World Is Burning Down Around Me? That's one of my favorites, really."

"Yeah, same here! It's so relatable, haha!"

~~~

He brought you to a skating rink when it was dark outside. So you wouldn't feel embarrassed if you fell and someone saw you.

He hovered infront of you, holding your hands as you started skating. "That's it, my dear. That's it."

You almost fell a few times, but you knew he'd never let that slide on his watch.

"I think I'm getting it! I'm doing it!" Once he let go of your hands, you began skating the same way he did.

And he adored that you tried copying him.

"Then I think you deserve a reward. Change to your normal shoes, then follow me, alright?" His ear flicked.

"Sounds good, babe!" You removed your skates, then put your normal shoes on again.

Once that was done, you followed him behind a large tree.

What was he gonna do???

"Now then..your reward, is me." He got onto his knees and tugged at your pants.

Your face felt hot, but you helped him pull your pants down anyway. Something about the possibility of being caught by a stranger made your pussy get wet.

And Shadow noticed it immediately. He ran his tongue along your newly exposed thighs, before flicking against your clit.

You groaned and gently tugged at his quills. "S-Shadow..ohh.."

"Shh. Let me handle this." He started lapping at your pussy like he was starving for weeks, even inserting two fingers into your slick folds and pumping them.

The pleasure grew and grew, as did his pace. But you didn't wanna cum until he was inside you.

"Shadow, please..I-I need you inside of me n-now.."

"Beg like you really want it.." he continued eating you out.

"Shadow! Please~! I- I-"

"What?" He snarled.

"I want your dick inside of me right now~!"

At this, he pulled away and stood up, his erection hard and throbbing. He gently gripped your hips and slid you down the tree, so you were sitting on the ground. Then he lined up at your entrance and pushed his way inside.

"I'm going to make you scream." He warned, before thrusting into you.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back, not caring if anybody saw or heard you. This felt way too good. Might as well enjoy it.

Pretty soon, your walls clenched around Shadow's length, and you felt it throb inside of you. He was close.

"Ah~! Oh yeah! Harder, harder Shadow!" You begged, gripping his back quills.

"God- your going to be the death of me, Jesus christ." He groaned out, picking up his pace.

Your orgasm was mind blowing, to say the least. Usually, sex between the two of you was passionate and slow. This?

This was much better.

You panted as he pulled out of you, a mixture of your fluids leaking out of your entrance.

"Better clean up. Don't wanna have to explain yourself to Tom and Maddie, do you?" He tutted, gently poking your cheek.

"S-shut up-"

That's right. I knew u thirsty movie Shadow simps would search 4 this. Reblog if u want!))

[callmrmorrow]

to make up for my last post, here’s what i think the invincible characters would do as content creators

mark grayson/invincible: comic book channel who analyzes and breaks down different in-world comics, particularly seance dog. very critical. has those really dumb cheesy thumbnails of his jaw hanging while he points at the new issue in blatant shock. is on youtube. think star wars theory but with less alt-right pipeline bs. has a somewhat decent following

nolan grayson/omniman: this motherfucker hates social media and thinks it is one of the most moronic things to come out of humanity. has a twitter account to post about his books, only follows his wife and son (maybe his publisher) but doesn’t like mark’s tweets bc they’re mostly complaining, flaming, or talking about comic books (average male teen activities)

debbie grayson: house hunters for superheroes, or maybe closer to selling sunset with the entire company? could sell you a house with two murder victims on the floor ten feet away from you. if it’s something like selling sunset, she’s definitely the most popular with the fans because she’s super humble, competent, and shockingly compassionate on the camera. has a couple superfans who are largely middle-aged men and the occasional teenage girl (she has to manually block them on nolan’s phone; i imagine he’s not insecure but maybe a bit possessive)

amber bennett: probably runs a tiktok account on social justice topics. might have a tumblr or some other online blog where she breaks down current events and shares petitions for world betterment. anything but performative, frequently starts or attends protests for various causes. insanely well-spoken, lots of posts about her work at the soup kitchen, and you just know she donates money to everyone who pops up on her feed. such a good person it almost makes you feel like you’re not doing enough (and that’s lowkey the point).

eve wilkins/atom eve: science tutoring on youtube. faceless, think like khan academy, but has voiceovers. covers simple to super advanced stuff in a very understandable format that made her super popular. its some shit like “atomswitheve,” and it’s wildly popular but she literally never talks about it #humblequeen. while she and rex were dating, she let him edit a video and came back to like six explosions superimposed over chemical formulas.

the immortal: fucking history channel but it’s all about things he’s actually experienced, but nobody fucking believes him. voiceovers a slideshow of images. incredibly boring, comments are full of people saying “source” and he replies “I was there.” but again… no one believes him. a couple college professors cite his videos for historical inaccuracy — and they are inaccurate because immortal has an ego, but his content is actually closer than other firsthand accounts because he survived most of the stuff (and remembers it well).

oliver grayson: debbie screens his online time so he doesn’t go all ultron (we all know this motherfucker has little care for human life). mostly posts skating stuff or gaming clips that aren’t particularly good. does not get much traction but mark is always in his comments hyping him up, but he’s always wrong about what tricks oliver performs; it’s become a habit for oliver to march up to mark and say “this was actually a nollie inward heelflip you MORON”

rex splode: runs his own fan account that has like 7 posts of the druski dance with himself and captions like “yes i’m rex splode, yes i’m the best guardian, yes i bagged atom eve, yes i can defeat omni man, did i mention i can defeat omni man?” relatively popular. does tiktok live reactions of WWE fights — since he’s not wearing his costume, no one knows who he is — or anything else that his viewers submit. got cancelled twice but nobody seems to care, least of all him.

shrinking rae: runs a youtube account that is like… emulating one of those “day in the life of a [insert occupation] student” videos where she just kind of pretends to be normal. also makes cooking videos, videos about cleaning her apartment, self-care tips and tricks for young women (can’t imagine she got a lot of advice from her gung-ho superhero parents), and study habits for struggling college students. she kind of pretends to be who she wants to be irl.

kate cha: lowkey a music producer, since all her clones just play different instruments or harmonize with each other. she doesn’t get a lot of chances to do it with her hero work, but releases nothing but bangers when she can. featured rex yelling at her for cheating on him as an intro for one of her songs (like that one guy on tiktok) and it blew up. has a lot of songs about death, which most think is odd (important to remember she’s died a lot).

cecil stedman: does NOT post on social media and i can’t think of a world where he would. but if he did, it’s probably just a fake bot account that reposts pro-government propaganda. “more funding for the GDA” “cecil was right” “lets double the US defense budget” he’s the kind of guy to like everything on his fyp just to throw off the algorithm.

i do have more but this post is getting too long for most people’s (including me) low attention spans. will do a part 2 with requested characters if this is well-received

[gothhabiba]

Nosferatu (2024)

I'll tell you right now that I'm going to call everyone by their Dracula names because I'm sorry but I don't know the proper ones

The camera angle when the first Germany part of the movie opens! you're so in the streets, so in the crowds. idk if that's the cinematography or just that I haven't seen a film on such a large screen in a long time?

The scenes with Count Orlac in the castle and how civil he is in his speech (demanding to be addressed by his proper title; forbidding Jonathan to leave but saying "you will stay as I advise," not e.g. "as I command"), and how thin but impenetrable that veneer of civility is. For "civility" read here all of its implications of "civilisation"

The first scene of the ship being in perfect profile, sailing on a sunny sea with picturesque clouds in the background, just like a painting!! like an Age of Sail painting, and all the things about aesthetics, colonialism, depiction-as-claiming-of-ownership, that that implies.

And then the next time you see the ship, it's storming, the camera pans in from over the stern and forward, the ship is rocking, it's much more down in it, the sunny idealism of imperialist fortune-making brought down to its gritty reality

The East As Contagion (free square)

Major missed opportunity to make the ship more explicitly imperialism-flavoured

Female Sexuality As Dangerous And Inviting Contagion (free square)

Lucy and Arthur already being married and having children, specifically her being pregnant again, Lucy and Arthur as "heterofuture" (after @metamatar), reproductive futurity, him being a shipman, their money being conspicuous and being from shipping--

then Mina having one of her episodes just as they're about to kiss, in the water, dress pulled up, legs open to the water (to the Contagion From The East), convulsing--! Inappropriate female sexuality (inadequately contained, inadequately future-oriented, the West as future, heterosexuality as future, female sequestration in the home to raise children who are also appropriately heterosexual as futurity) and how inappropriate female sexuality interrupts the heterofuture that Lucy & Arthur's almost-kiss represents.

Lucy being very light in colouring and lit so as to emphasise that fact, obsessively dressed in white and placed in all-white rooms, versus Mina being dark in colouring (I mean of hair & eyes) and dress, reproductive futurity as whiteness

The Insane Asylum piquing itself as morally upright, scientific, humane, modern, future-oriented institution; the doctor's "don't lock him [Renfield] up, we don't do that here"--and then of course he stays locked up and restrained, and more so than he was before the doctor spoke to him (so gently and kindly and civilly)

Renfield caressing a bird Dracula had given him and saying "master likes the pretty ones," Mina as bird, birds in cages as metaphor for Victorian womanhood and sequestration within the home, Jonathan saying immediately when the men plan to go hunt Dracula down that Mina isn't going

Something about the drunk (?) man gently banging his head against a wall whom they have to pass to get to Van Helsing's, and this coming on the heels of the scene in the asylum

Mina becoming poorly specifically when Jonathan leaves, her saying that she's unwell because he's gone, Lucy saying "and Jonathan leaving caused your..." and Mina finishing "melancholy." When, like, obviously what's being elided here is the idea that Mina is unwell because she's sexually unfulfilled, the Victorian idea that once a woman has sex she has to continue to or she'll become physically and mentally unwell--a series of ideas you may be most familiar with under the heading of "hysteria."

Mina talking about her "epilepsies," insert everything about Victorian medical science versus popular culture and how ambivalently epilepsy was treated as effectively demonic and uncontrollable on the one hand, or subjected to modernising theories of disease (including and especially mental illness) on the other hand--

which, obviously, the "science versus popular superstition" is a significant part of what animates this. I think they brought this out very well & maybe even a little too explicitly

The fact that it is Germany's (England's) "modern" and "scientific" ideas that allowed this to happen, when Nosferatu had grown weak in Transylvania because of the superstitions of the local populace and especially the "g*psies"--I have to think about it more but there's a countercurrent in there somewhere--expressing anxiety not necessarily on behalf of, but about, "Western" modernity and heterofuturity

That Mina x Jonathan sex scene was so good even & especially because of the demonic possession / doing-it-to-prove-a-point thing. they're so endlessly devoted to one another and I love them so much

Needed an intermission. really really needed an intermission

Just the sexiest Dracula adaptation ever. horniest by far, by far. yes, even including that other one, which really wasn't sexy or horny at all imo.

Whoever was involved in making this movie is very, very familiar with Victorian anxieties and motivations and rhetoric and very, very psychosexually disturbed. perfection

My girlfriend complained that all the sex was missionary-style but I think that worked perfectly. For one thing, think of "missionary" and all the colonial implications there. The implications of heterosexual reproduction specifically within marriage that it carries. Also the implications of domination that come with being physically on top of someone, and the fact that the way Nosferatu feeds on Jonathan bears close resemblance to the way he feeds on & has sex with Mina--

then Nosferatu apparently telling Mina that Jonathan was "pathetic" and "weak" and "womanish"--!!!!!!! And the image of spread legs (recall Mina's scene in the water, also Lucy after her death) as surrender. If all the sex and quasi-sex scenes weren't so formulaically heterosexual in this particular way, these parallels wouldn't work as well.

And speaking of Jonathan, it's also interesting that his seduction-by-three-brides-of-Dracula thing is cut out to emphasise instead Mina's seduction by Dracula. We don't get any of that reference to his "indiscretion" (with Mina holding his hand sympathetically, forgiving, perfect angelic Victorian wife) that we get in 1992.

Stupid ending. there is never a good or poetic or touching reason to kill the woman at the ending of a movie. it's always stupid. like I get that she sacrificed herself to save everyone and took agency by reversing things so that inside, within the home, within the bed was where the war was fought, and outside, with the men was just a diversion and I get that this is an intentional subversion of the Angel-in-the-Home bird-in-a-cage situation. I still think it's stupid.

When Jonathan kisses Mina's hand as she's naked, covered in blood, legs spread, covered by the body of Nosferatu, and he pulls away, and he's so covered in tears and snot and saliva and all those liquids make so many stringy trails in the backlit space between her hand and his face as he pulls away. so so so good.

the sound design was incredible

[yeollie-plz]

Promises.

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: In a world where gender roles have been reestablished, Joel continues to save you.

Genre: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: no outbreak but different outbreak?, i can't explain it, established relationship, Y/N insert, p in v sex, unprotected sex, forced marriage, kissing, mentions of alcoholism and abusive relationships, explosions, pet names, kissing, orgasm denial, breeding kink?, rough sex, spanking, hair pulling

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Once again writing from a dream I had, idk why I get such vivid dreams sometimes but its honestly so fun!

Also! I am so sorry that I haven't written something in so long, I had literally no motivation. But I hope you didn't miss me too much! And hey, I'm coming back with a bang! (literally, in a few aspects)

When the world almost ended 20 years ago, the government had to issue new laws. Laws that matched up women to men, in order to ensure the repopulation of the human race.

If you were of age, you were matched and married, the man basically owned you. It was very medieval in concept and for a lot also in practice. But for you, it brought you Joel who had slowly but surely became your whole world.

He was kind and took care of you. Nothing like the horror stories you would hear from the other women. He wanted to protect you and let you take your time to warm up to him.

When you finally admitted you liked him he was overjoyed. He had kissed you but took his time with everything else. He knew it was your first time and he wanted to make sure you felt safe and loved. Joel was good and you couldn't be more happy with who was chosen for you.

The world, although now different and strange was the world you had to live in. You had to stay home, unless accompanied by Joel. The goal to repopulate the earth after an alien race tried to take over and wiped out half the population was going well. But with less humans and more aliens taking up living here, it wasn't the safest anymore.

Everyone was assigned a job, a person to marry, and a home to live in. It was organized with the goal of integrating humans and the aliens. And it was working as well as it could be. In the beginning it was rough but after so many years people were getting used to the new world order.

There, of course, was still some rebel groups out there. Women who wanted freedom, aliens who didn't want to be a part of earth, and humans who didn't want them either. Riots would happen here and there because of these rebel groups. But you? You were safe with Joel, you knew that, and you trusted him fully.

You woke to the sun shining in through the large windows that lined your apartment. One good thing about being assigned housing was that most were very nice. Rolling over you were met with an empty bed, Joel was no where to be found. There was no sound coming from the connected bathroom, and just as you were about to get out of bed in search of him there was a crash in the kitchen.

Out of instinct you threw the seats off of you and ran into the kitchen. Only to be met with Joel bent down on the floor cleaning up a broken plate.

"Joel?" You questioned, the shock now leaving your voice and being replaced by amusement.

"Hi baby." He said sheepishly as he picked up the last few shards.

"You okay?"

"Yep, just trying to make you breakfast a failing miserably, the usual." He shrugs and throws the shards away before leaving his mess for a second to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"It's the thought the counts." You smile at him while watching while he finishes up his cleaning.

You sit at the counter, watching him intently. After he finishes cleaning he returns to the stove. You hum to yourself as you watch him. The way his back flexes as he moves his arms makes you bite your lip.

Joel turns as you basically eye fuck him, smirking as he notices the look on your face. Placing a plate in front of you, he smiles at you, and leans across the counter for a kiss. You give him one and utter a small thank you.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel spoke up, "Got a lot of cleanup at work today, someone vandalized the train station." He said almost absentmindedly.

You nod in response not being able to hide the concerned look on your face.

"What?" He questions, quickly noticing.

"It's just-" You set down your fork, "-it was probably one of the rebels and I just don't want you to be put in danger."

He smiles lovingly at you, "I'm sure they won't be anywhere near it anymore, it was just some spray paint. Besides, you don't think I can protect myself?"

"No, I know you can protect yourself. But you'll just want to protect everyone else as well, then you'll get yourself in trouble."

Joel lets out a half scoff half laugh at your statement. He knows you are right, he is a protector by nature. He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him in an attempt to draw your eyes to his.

"The only person I want to protect is you. Sure, I will help the guys if they need it but my main goal is always to come home to you." Kissing your knuckles, he puts your hand down.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

It had been a few hours since Joel had left for work. You did what you did most days which included some cleaning with a lot of relaxing. As you were settling down on the couch after cleaning up the breakfast dishes, heavy knocking came from the front door.

The sound made you jump, the aggression of the pounds sent chills down your spine. You usually weren't one to open the door when Joel wasn't home but you did like to at least see who is was.

So, as another set of knocks sounded on the heavy wood door, you dragged your ice cold body towards it. Your feet felt like lead as you stood straight to see clearly out of the peep hole.

On the other side was your neighbor, Jill. Jill had always been nice to you, yet you didn't really like her husband. He was arrogant and rude to say the least. But as Jill stood on the other side of the door, you could see fear etching her face. She shook as she glanced back and forth down the hallway. It was almost like she thought someone was following her.

After a few seconds of debating what to do and watching Jill secretively, you decided that whatever was happening to her was important enough to help. Girls had to stick together, especially when your world had become what it was.

Just as Jill was about to pound on the door again, you opened it slowly revealing yourself to her. She seemed almost shocked that you had answered.

"Jill?" You questioned trying to snap her out of her trance enough for her to explain.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do." She looked at you with pleading eyes and you knew this was something serious.

"Come in, I'll get you something to drink. Maybe some tea?" You weren't sure what else to do but when you were anxious you liked a nice warm tea, maybe Jill did too. She nods at your suggestion and enters the house.

You close the door behind the two of you. Telling her to make herself comfortable while you made her tea.

When you returned to the living room with a nice cup of tea, Jill was still stood in the entrance of your apartment. Arms crossed like she was trying to protect herself.

Slowly you made your way over to her, holding out the mug to her. She took it after a beat or two of staring at it.

"Please, sit down. Take your time, you can tell me what happened." She looked up from the mug to you as you spoke and nodded tentatively, but did what you said anyway.

Silence washed over the two of you and stayed there for almost three whole minutes. You weren't sure what to do so you kept glancing around like something on walls would tell you what to do.

Suddenly she placed her mug down on the coffee table. Your head snapped towards her, you had almost forgotten why she was here. Something had clearly happened and you were curious what.

"I'm sorry for coming over here so abruptly, it's terrible of me to put you in this position." She said with a sigh.

"It's no problem. I can tell you aren't doing great so I'd like to be there for you if I can be." You offer a smile which she almost returns.

"Uh well how do I put this?" She sits and thinks for a second.

"My match...my match isn't such a good fit. He isn't a good person. Since the wedding day he has gotten drunk almost every night. He gets angry and yells and breaks things. He's just a bad person. Even not drunk he isn't a good person." You nod along to the things she's saying. you've heard of bad matches but nothing this bad.

"Well for a while I put up with it. I mean what else am I going to do? This is what had been chosen for me. He didn't always take it out on me too, he would yell at nothing or himself. But eventually it was turned towards me. Nothing I did was right and no matter how hard I worked to keep everything perfect he'd find something wrong with it." Tears are beginning to form in the corners of her eyes the longer she tells you about her husband.

All you can do is sit there and listen, unsure of how to respond. You've never seen Joel angry, let alone as angry as she is describing her husband.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Jill continues, "He would yell and call me names. Tell me how worthless I am and he would throw things, break things. He never got physical with me so I took it. I took the names, I took the insults, all of it. But I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to stand up for myself. And-and-" She chokes up not able to finish her sentence.

This is when you reach out your arm to touch her shoulder. An attempt at a reassuring gesture that just has her jumping back instead. She recovers and looks up at you with apologetic eyes. You give a small smile back.

"He hurt me, badly. I thought he wouldn't stop, it just kept happening. I think I blacked out because when I came to he was gone. I didn't know what else to do so I came over here. I think I should go to the hospital but I can't go without him. I just don't know what to do." She was fully crying now, her words almost indiscernible as she sobbed.

You offered her a tissue which she took and sobbed even more into. Unsure if you should try and comfort her again, you decided it was better to try and this time she didn't shy away. Instead she leaned into the touch and you stroked her shoulder slowly. The action seemed to calm her down remarkably and she eventually calmed down enough that you felt it was a good time to finally respond.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry we don't get choices or options. I'm so sorry we are forced to submit to insane ideals and insane people." She lets out another sob. "Listen, Joel doesn't work too far from here and if you think you are strong enough we can go to him and he can take you to the hospital. As long as we have a man with us, they should treat you."

"You mean...go out alone."

You debate what you had just suggested, I guess you had suggested going out alone but it wouldn't be too far of a journey.

"It's not too far and we aren't alone we have each other. We can wear disguises if it makes you feel better. I just want to be able to get you the help you need."

"Are you sure Joel will help me?"

You nod, "If I ask him, he will do it."

She frowns a bit at your statement, you didn't realize how perfect you were making your relationship seem after she just poured her heart out to you.

"Listen, he will help, I promise."

So, the two of you donned some hood and masks in an attempt to cover your hair and feminine features. You also gave Jill an ice pack to soothe her injuries for the time being.

"Ready?" You glanced at her trying to decipher what she was thinking. She stood there still looking very guarded. "Here, we can hold hands, make sure the other doesn't get lost." You offer your hand to her with a smile, she smiles back and takes it.

Leaving your apartment the two of you make your way to the ground floor. It wasn't often that you left the apartment but when you did it was obviously always accompanied by Joel. Something about leaving on your own felt freeing but very scary at the same time.

The train station was a short walk from your building, maybe half a block. Joel always told you exactly where he was working that day and what he was doing. You liked to hear his stories of the outside world and it made you feel safe to know he was safe.

As the two of you got closer to the bustling crowds trying to catch their trains, you felt Jill tense up next to you. You glance at her and squeeze her hand tighter. This draws her attention to you.

"Not far now, we'll be fine."

You didn't know how much you would regret this sentence because as soon as you caught sight of Joel's salt and pepper hair an explosion busted out the wall a mere hundred or so feet to the left of you.

Through the hole in the wall came a group of rebel aliens, screaming and yelling something. With how loud and close the explosion was you ears were ringing. You glanced around at the crowd who was now running around in fear. Trying to catch a glimpse of your husband in the mess, you felt a hand tug yours. Looking down you saw Jill on the ground, curled into herself. She was crying again.

You jumped into action trying to pull her up so no one stepped on her, but she wouldn't budge. "Jill please, get up we need to get somewhere safer!"

She still didn't move, you looked around desperately. Either you were going to find Joel or someone else that could help. That's when you caught a glimpse of him. There was no way he could hear you over the yells and chaos but you called his name anyway.

And it was almost like his ears were trained to hear your voice and your voice alone because not long after beginning to call out to him, he locked eyes with him. He took a double take, convincing himself it wasn't really you. Then his eyebrows furrowed realizing he wasn't imagining things and quickly pushed through the crowd towards you.

He was now stood in front of you, your face in his hands as he looked you over. "Baby what are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The questions came quickly, too quickly to answer so you nodded instead.

"Joel, I'm fine. I came to get your help and then the explosion..." You trailed off not sure how to explain yourself now that you had put yourself in such danger.

"Tell me later, come on, I gotta get you out of here." He tries to drag you out but you pull him back, stopping him.

"I can't go, we need to get Jill."

"Jill? Our neighbor, Jill?" You nod and gesture to her still on the ground.

He looks confused but doesn't question it, instead he walks over to Jill.

"Jill? Can you walk?" She shakes her head no.

"Can I carry you, we really need to get somewhere safe." She takes minute and eyes him closely, trying to decide if he was trustworthy. Finally, she nods.

So he picks her up carefully and turns to you, "Hold onto my shirt and don't let go." You nod and grab ahold of the plaid shirt he was currently wearing.

That's how the three of you made your way out of the chaos. But Joel didn't stop until you were at least a block away from the danger before stopping and setting Jill carefully down onto her shaking legs.

You quickly made your way to her to help her stabilize herself and when she did you looked back at Joel. His back was turned to you and his hands were in his hair. He wasn't happy, you knew that, so you didn't speak just kept trying to calm down Jill.

Finally he turned back around, eyes filled with something you had never seen before. At least something you had never seen in Joel.

He breathed deeply, "I need to get you home." He said simply.

"Okay, but Jill needs to go to the hospital first."

"What?" The curtness of his voice had you reeling back a bit, was he angry? You had never really seen Joel angry before, not at you at least.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself before he said something he would regret.

"We will take her to the hospital, make sure she is in safe hands, then we are going home."

"But what if she needs me?" The look on his face at your response should've had you stopping at 'but', so you just nodded.

And that's what you did. Made sure Jill was in safe hands and that her family was called to help her and you were dragged home. It was less than twenty minutes before Joel was pushing you back out the door and dragging you home.

You didn't protest but you also didn't know what to say to him. So as the two of you entered your apartment, you went to explain yourself. Instead your explanations were muffled by Joel's lips on yours. The kiss was desperate, like he was unsure you were really there. Maybe unsure you were really okay?

"Joel-" You mumble into his lips as he doesn't stop kissing yours. A grunt sounds from him as he hears you say his name.

He doesn't want to talk it seems because his lips stay on yours and his hands find the back of your thighs lifting you up into arms. You help him by jumping and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your arms find their place behind his neck.

Joel carries you through the apartment, lips never letting up. They only disconnect as he drops you onto your bed and quickly takes off his shirt. Leaning back over you his knee is placed between your legs and you gasp at how close he is, his body heat, making you feel even warmer than you already did.

"I thought I lost you." He says simply but you can see in his eyes he really means those words.

But you don't have a chance to respond because his lips are back on you. This time trailing down your jaw to your neck, only to be stopped by the fabric of your shirt. Joel lets out another grunt as he grabs the bottom of shirt and quickly whips it off of you like it had offended him.

As soon as the shirt is off of you his lips are back on your neck, now trailing to the places he really wanted to get to. Your bra is unclasped quicker than you can even process what is happening. His mouth instantly biting at the sensitive skin of your breast, biting at it only a bit before licking down to your nipple.

You gasp as his mouth latches onto the sensitive bud. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that moment. Sure you wanted this, you always wanted Joel but the danger of the day was catching up with you. Now you needed him, needed to feel protected, loved.

"Joel please, I-" Hearing you beg had him unlatching his mouth from your breast and looking up at you.

For almost the first time in an hour he finally addresses you, "What do you want baby?"

"You Joel, I need you. I-I'm sorry." The apology wasn't what he was asking for but it was what he needed to hear because as soon as those two words left your lips he was returning his attention to your chest.

He now attached himself to your other breast, giving that nipple what it had been missing. His hands worked at the button of your pants, undoing it and the zipper quickly. He shoved them down your legs with your help, lips never leaving your flushed skin.

As soon as your pants were down his hands were playing with the hem of your underwear. The thin fabric causing his touches to feel even more intense as he teased you just a bit. But he knew neither of you could wait much longer so he pushed them to the side and started stroking your clit.

Slow circles at first which had you arching your back, chest pushed even farther into his mouth as he continued to take care of both of your nipples. He stroked your clit a few more times before letting his fingers dip further down, teasing your slit.

You were wet, very wet, so they slid easily against you and you gasped. You could feel him smirk against your nipple. But this time he detached himself from it and returned his mouth to yours.

He worked a finger into you in time with your kissing. Then two, then three. They curved against your insides, you moaned into the kiss and bit down on his lip as he brushed the perfect spot inside of you.

Your head tossed back as you got closer to your peak the more he stroked you g spot. When you gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin enough to draw blood, he pulled his fingers out of you. Leaving you at the brink of an orgasm. You let out a whine as your head snapped back up to look at him.

"I don't like punishing you, doll, but tonight you're gonna need some discipline." You didn't argue just let your head drop slightly. He brought his down and caught your lips in his, forcing your head back up.

You didn't notice but he had unbuckled his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down just enough to let his member loose. He doesn't take your panties off either, instead he leaves them how they were when he was fingering you as his tip teases your entrance. You were still very sensitive from your denied orgasm so your hips jerked up at the contact.

He pretended not to notice and slapped his dick onto your clit, causing you to buck up once again. He pulled back, eyes searching yours. Joel had this look about him when the two of you had sex, something between dominance and love but right now it was a fire. One you hadn't seen before and it made you nervous but oh so excited. It had you gushing between your legs.

You bit your lip as his tip pushed past your entrance, sliding in easily with how wet you were, not to mention his thick fingers being there only minutes earlier.

"Always so tight." Joel grunts as he hilts himself fully inside of you. He stays like that reveling in the feeling before slowly pulling himself almost fully out of you just to snap his hips forward back into you.

He continues this and it is so aggressive that you need to grip onto his shoulders again for any form of support. He had never fucked you like this before. It had your brain fogging up with pleasure.

Your peak catches up with you quickly. You whimper, needing the release you have been waiting for. Joel notices and brings his thumb down to rub your clit a few times. Your heart swells thinking he is going to let you cum. But it is too good to be true because just as you begin to clench around him he is pulling away and out of you.

"Told you, you need to remember how to be a good girl first." The name has you swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I am Joel, please, I need you inside me." He stutters at your words, but recovers quickly, flipping you over onto your stomach.

"You don't just get to cum whenever you want, gonna have to work for it pretty girl." He kneads your ass as he speaks, clearly liking his new view.

"I'll do anything." You speak so quietly, Joel almost misses it. A dark chuckle leaves his lips.

"Want you to suck my dick so badly right now, you have no idea. But this-" His hand lands onto your round ass with a smack, "-this is too tempting right now."

Another smack and his member is returning between your legs as he pushes into you. You moan loudly at the intrusion, constantly getting more and more sensitive the more he denies you of what you need.

He thrusts in an out of you at the same speed as earlier. When his hips snap into yours, he lands a smack onto your ass. He relishes the feeling of you sucking him in each time he spanks you. The feeling causing you to clench onto his dick.

The hand not making your skin burn red is holding your hip so tightly the skin is turning white, you there will be bruises there tomorrow. Hell, at this rate you'll have all kinds of marks tomorrow.

"Want to fill you up, need to see you full of my cum." Although you knew what had gotten into Joel, you had never seen this side of him and it was almost jarring how much of a change it was. Was this the true him? Was he scared to show this side of himself? Scared you couldn't handle it? Fuck was he wrong.

"Please, I need your cum." And you decided to truly show him he was wrong. You liked this side of him and you wanted him to know that.

Joel grunted snapping his hips into yours so roughly it had you seeing stars. You could tell he was close and unsurprisingly so were you. You pushed your hips back into his and he was too far gone to deny you any longer.

"Joel, baby, please can I cum now?"

"Let go for me, I need you clench around this dick as I fill you with my seed. Want to see you all round and pregnant for me." His words send you over the edge with the orgasm you have been waiting for all night.

You clench like a vice onto his cock, the feeling sending him over his edge as well. The hand that was spanking you is sent up your spine to grip the back of your hair pulling your head back so he can attach his lips to yours.

You each moan into each other's mouths as he continues to pump you full of his seed. He works you both through your orgasms as your lips work against each other as well. Your breaths come out ragged as he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours.

His eyes are closed as he speaks, "Did I hurt you baby?"

"No! I uh, I actually enjoyed it very much." He laughs at your response.

"I'm glad." He pauses. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Your brows furrow.

"For getting mad and getting rough with you, I never wanted to show you this side of me."

"Hey, look at me." He does. "I like every side of you. I should be the one apologizing right now. I got myself into danger by going against the rules."

Joel sighs and swallows the lump that was sitting in the back of his throat.

"I love you." Is all he can think to say.

"I love you." Is all you need to respond.

[glassbxttless]

Pet Shop Polly

tommy gallagher (warfare) x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k+

summary: Sam sends Tommy to the local pet store to pick up an order for Whiskey.

warnings: No smut! Just Tommy getting a crush. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

notes: **my friends and I have dubbed Tommy’s last name, Gallagher, run with that if you’d like** | My Tommyverse and Samverse are interwoven, if y’all care! Sam’s girl is still nameless in here, don’t worry— it doesn’t affect the reader-insert illusion (Tommy calls her Mrs. O’Brien whether they’re married or not). Big thanks to @peachyproserpina and @getaapologist for helping me build this little universe.

You were halfway through reorganizing the chew toy section for the second time that day, when the bell over the front door jingled louder than you’re used to. Tuesdays were slow, only one or two customers had trickled in that morning and not one of them had been Sam, a regular Tuesday flyer— and you still had four hours of your shift left to go. Agnes looked up from her stool at the register at the sound, eyes squinting beneath her glasses like she was already preparing to pull out a special brand of unimpressed. You peeked around the endcap, your hands curled around a kong ball, just in time to see who had apparently unknowingly earned her wrath today.

Not Sam O’Brien, that was for sure.

This guy was taller, face softer around the edges. He had a beat up navy hoodie on, with the sleeves tugged low. You could see the frayed hem and the hole in the armpit each time he moved his arm forward slightly. His cheeks were pink like he’d either jogged here or he just existed in a state of permanent embarrassment. He looked skittish, like he’d been placed in an environment that definitely wasn’t normal for him. You watched as his chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath before approaching the counter. He pushes a hand over the slightly overgrown buzz cut on his head before offering the smallest, most polite smile you’d ever seen survive Agnes’ attitude. His voice is nervous, a bit of a shake as each word tumbles from his lips, “Hi, um… I’m here to pick up an order for Sam? Sam O’Brien. For his dog. Whiskey.”

You step a little closer, pretending to busy yourself with a box as Agnes narrowed her eyes. “You’re not Sam.”

That makes him huff out a laugh, and he’s bringing his hand up— scratching at the back of his neck. You wanted to hear that laugh again and again. “No, ma’am. Definitely not. Thomas— I mean, Tommy. Tommy’s fine. He asked me to grab it since I was already in town.” His eyes divert towards the counter for just a moment before he’s looking up at Agnes, his cheeks still tinted pink but there’s a wide grin spread across them. 

Agnes sighs, loud and annoyed. “About damn time. Order’s been sitting since last week. Dog’s gonna think we forgot about her.”

You tried not to smile as you wandered even closer, the box you’d been fussing with now long forgotten. Moving on, you’re pretending to organize the treats now. You could get a good look at him now. Tall, broad shoulders, the hoodie just a little too short on him. You thought you might’ve seen Sam in a similar one. His hair was blonde. And the second Agnes turned to get the order slip you could see him visibly begin to relax— those shoulders rolling back and loosening, that quiet little smile settling in again. Cheeks still pink as ever. 

Cute. He was really fucking cute.

Agnes heaves herself up after tugging the order slip off the back counter. She’s muttering something about her “damn hip” and pointed toward the back, where two very large bags of dog food sat next to the break room door. “It’s those two fifty-pound salmon and pumpkin bags by the door.” She takes a look out the window next to the register, seeing Tommy’s vehicle was the only one there, “You can bring your truck ‘round back.”

He gives a curt nod, slipping his hand into his hoodie pocket to pull his keys out. But before Tommy could turn, you step up and tap his arm lightly. You’re biting down on the inside of your cheek so hard you could cry, but fuck this is what playing it casual has to look like. “I can help you load it, if you want.”

He looks at you. He’s really taking you in. He’s surprised for half a second, and then something softer is settling behind his eyes. That same little nervous ass smile that’s been on his face since he walked in— but now it’s growing, it’s all teeth and red cheeks. He was looking at you like he didn’t quite believe you could help him load it, but he appreciated the offer anyway.

“Thanks,” he says softly, voice gentle albeit his exterior looked anything but gentle. “But I’ve got it. Appreciate the offer, though.” He smiled, like maybe he was the type to find genuine offers kind of sweet. He gives you a nod as he walks out, sliding into that old red beat up Ford F-10. He pulls the truck around back and smiles at Agnes as she lets him through the back door. 

You busy yourself right in front of the break room— maybe you had work to do there or maybe you just want to watch the way he handles two fifty-pound bags like they weigh nothing at all. He shoots Agnes a grin, a quick thank you. And if his eyes catch yours while he’s turning to leave, you’re none the wiser. 

Tommy backs into Sam’s driveway nice and slow— not wanting to clip the flower beds and get his ass chewed out like the last time. He’s throwing it in park, heading around the back to tug the tailgate down— those big-ass bags of dog food still riding solo in the back. He can hear Whiskey barking before he even took two steps down the flower lined walkway— that pitchy and whiny bark Sam always complained about, echoing through the cracked front windows.

He takes the two steps up to the front porch, lifting his hand to knock. But the front door swings open before he even gets a chance to. “You took your sweet goddamn time getting back,” Sam chuckles, a grin spread ear to ear. “Whisk thought you ran off with her dinner.”

“Think she can wait just a few more minutes. Said this has been sitting there a week,” Tommy huffs as he heads back down the path, hauling one of the bags out over his shoulder with a loud grunt.

Sam chuckles and rolls his eyes, taking a step out onto the porch to get a better view. From the doorway, Sam’s girl— standing bare feet, comfy T-shirt, hair up— watched, smiling at the sight of them. “Hey, Tommy!” She sends a little wave his way as Whiskey nuzzles at her legs. 

“Afternoon, Mrs. O’Brien,” he responds politely, giving her a small nod as he huffs out a breath. Tossing one of the bags down inside the door with a soft thud before he repeats the entire thing with the second. Sam’s girl has a hand on that little pink collar around Whiskey’s neck to keep her from darting. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her tail a blur. The only person she loved more than Sam and his girl? was Tommy. 

“Oh, don’t encourage him, sweetheart,” Sam mutters, pressing a kiss against her shoulder as he steps back over the threshold to help slide the bags into their usual spot, limp and all. “He’s trying to marry us off before I even propose.”

“She’s put up with you long enough, hasn’t she?” Tommy asked, shaking his head just a bit as he let out a chuckle. 

Sam barks out a laugh at that, shooting him a grin. “Barely.”

Tommy watches as Sam’s girl steps around them to start putting away the dog food into the bins in the cabinet. Sam kisses her head and then he’s leading Tommy back out onto the porch. Sam’s stretching then, and Tommy is letting his hands settle into the front pocket of his hoodie. They stand there for a moment, comfortable with the quiet growing between them before Tommy asks, all red cheeked and curious, “Hey, so… that stocker at the shop— how long’s she been working there?”

Sam gave him a sharp look out the corner of his eye as he leans against the banister railing. “What, the cute one with the freckles? or the one who looks like a 2003 Hot Topic threw up all over them?”

Tommy flushed instantly. “Uh….” He mutters something else as he looks away, but he’s smiling. Barely. Just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. But it’s enough for Sam to notice.

So Sam does what any other older brother would do, he elbows him a little too hard in the ribs and turns up the teasing to ten. “Aw, buddy. You got a little crush on Pet Shop Polly?”

“I just asked a question.”

“And I’m just saying you look like you want to write her a thank-you card for making eye contact with your sorry ass.” Sam chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. Tommy doesn’t miss the way he shifts his weight to his good leg. 

Tommy chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “You’re such a dick.”

“Yeah, and she’s really sweet. Way outta your league.” He rolls his eyes and takes another look at Tommy. Head to toe.

Tommy finally laughs then, full and warm, his cheeks getting even redder. “Shut up, man.”

“You shut up.” Sam counters and shakes his head, “You should go back, man. I’ll even let you take Whiskey with you. Can say she demanded to thank her personally. Been wanting a little time with the missus anyway.”

“That’s dumb.”

Sam grins, ear to ear like he’s just cracked the code into getting Tommy a girlfriend. “Yeah maybe, but it's the best excuse you’ve got.”

The next evening Tommy sits in his truck for a solid two minutes after parking before he works up the nerve to go inside. Whiskey’s beside him in the passenger seat. She’s sitting proud, leash clipped to her little pink harness like she had any clue that he was trying to use her to get laid. She looked thrilled. Tommy knew her walks with Sam were getting shorter each day. But while Whiskey just wants to get out of the house, sniff around a little— Tommy looks like he was trying to do calculus in his head in the front seat of his truck. “She’s not gonna care,” he mutters like he knows literally anything about you, he’s rubbing his palms against his jeans, willing them to dry before he steps out. “You’re just… bringing the dog in to say thanks. It’s not weird. Not weird at all.”

Whiskey let out a yawn and a long sigh, “Great,” he sighed. “You’re the perfect wingwoman, Whisk.” He finally clambers out, pink leash in his hand. And he nudges the door open with his shoulder. The bell above the door jingled again, loud and tinny. Enough to make Whiskey growl out in annoyance.

You glance up from the aisle you were stocking. Agnes is on her break and you were the only one on shift right at the moment. You’ve got a bag of dental chews in one hand and a price gun in the other. You weren’t expecting anyone to come in this late, certainly not him— with the world’s happiest golden retriever happily trotting alongside.

Tommy gives a little wave in your direction. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, definitely surprised but not unhappy. You had never seen him in the store before yesterday. You place the things in your hands down on the cart in front of you, grinning, “Did Sam already run out of dog food?”

“No, uh… Whiskey just wanted to say thank you. You know. For the food.”

You blinked, starting to feel hot from your toes, upward. “She did?”

Tommy nods, really trying his best not to look as nervous as he felt. And he was spectacularly failing at it. “Yeah. She defininitely said thank you.”

You grin, biting back a laugh as Whiskey sits down at your feet and gives you the most slobbery, expectant stare imaginable. You can’t resist. “Well,” you said, crouching a little to give her a scratch behind the ears, “she’s very polite.”

“She gets it from Sam,” Tommy jokes and your laugh brings a smile to his eyes. Tommy looks more than a little relieved at the sound, and then clears his throat. “Honestly, I just figured I didn’t, uh… say thank you properly. For offering to help me yesterday. It was super nice.”

“You didn’t have to come all the way down here to do that.”

“I know I didn’t have to. But I wanted to.” Tommy shrugs, that same little smile on his face. Like he doesn’t know exactly how it’s been rewiring your brain for the last 24 hours.  

You stand up, brushing your hands off on your jeans. “Well, I accept your very elaborate, canine-delivered thank-you.” He  smiles at that— really smiles. The one that’s a little crooked, full of teeth, and pink cheeks. The one that looks like his nerves have melted away. 

“She, uh… also mentioned I should probably get your name this time,” his voice is quieter, the smile is fading just a little. And he’s bringing a hand up and rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilted your head, your own lips tugging up into a grin. “She did, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s very… insistent. Dog’s got a strong sense of etiquette.”

You offered your name to him with a soft laugh, and he repeated it quietly a few times like he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget it. “Oh, uhm… I’m Tommy,” he adds, just a little late.

“I remember,” you say softly, making your chest heat up with embarrassment for admitting you were eavesdropping on him yesterday. “Sam’s friend, right? The nice one.”

Tommy blushes even more, which you weren’t even sure was possible until that moment. He holds your gaze though— he’s nervous, yeah, but he’s standing his ground. There’s a pause that stretches between you as he thinks of his next words, his next move. “Hey, um,” he starts, shifting his weight like he was trying to casually anchor himself to the floor. He tightens his grip on Whiskey’s leash, “I was wondering— if you’re ever like, not working… maybe you’d wanna get coffee sometime?”

You blink, that stupid grin still on your face. “Is this you asking me out, or is Whiskey still doing the talking?”

Tommy laughs, albeit sheepish. “Bit of both, really. She’s a big believer in overpriced caffeine and awkward flirting. Have you met her dad?” Tommy jokes softly. 

You bit your bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Well, I mean… If Whiskey insists…”

Tommy looks at you for a moment, a little stunned you’d actually said yes. He was looking at you like he’d halfway expected himself to crash and burn, but tried anyway. His smile stretched wider, “Cool. Great. Uh, I’ll let you get back to work. Don’t wanna mess up the… dental chew? display.” He motions vaguely to the end cap in front of him. 

“Don’t worry, it’s a system only I understand.” You counter, smiling softly as you take a step back to write your number on a price tag sticker, sticking it to the front of Tommy’s jacket. He looks at you like this is the first time he’s seen a pretty girl.

“I believe that.” he says softly with a nod. Curling Whiskey’s leash around his fist. His eyes drop down to the sticker, he peels from his jacket. It’s your number and your name— you’d even added a little heart. “I’ll text you. Or call. I don’t know.” He waves, using his shoulder to push open the door again, Whiskey following him out, just happy to be included.

You watched him go. accepting that you may just be wearing a permanent grin for the rest of your shift. 

He was a cute boy. A polite one. A little nervous, but kind enough to bring a dog in as backup. Yeah. You’d definitely get coffee with him.

tags ;; @getaapologist

[hexhomos]

Hey man, I follow you on bluesky, but I’m too shy to interact openly 😔 Could you maybe share more about the state of the fandom before season 2? I was watching Arcane as it was coming out in 2021, but I never interacted with the fandom back then so a lot of things that you say come as a surprise… Even I knew that a lot of people disliked Jayce tho which was crazy to me because he was my favorite after Jinx and Silco and I always found him to very compellingly written. But I never thought that he was hated to such an extent! Was Jayvik really a crackship with a small fanbase as some people say? I knew it was much smaller than Caitvi which I thought was totally fair and understandable, but I’m pretty sure that I saw a decent amount of fan art on my Twitter TL back then…

Its very inaccurate to call jayvik a crackship during season 1 LOLLLL s1act1 had such a JV boom it was partially marketed by word of mouth as possible canon yaoi. And I say "marketed" with intent, netflix official pages and riot official pages made posts/memes with these two, including some sexual innuendo. Keep in mind, vikjayce was an old ship: from 2012 onwards there's already faint niches in the community and even fanfics.

I have some of those social media posts here.

The marketing yaoi memes became a problem after act2 came out and a lot of the audience felt rightfully betrayed/led on by corporate; i think on the netflix side they got confused on who the canon gay pair was but old time players were well acquainted with riot's HORRID handling of mlm couples - the disappointment wrt jayvik in season 1 was palpable and impossible to ignore, partially because their stories WERE well liked ingame as their lore selves, and in act1 as a potential couple.

for a little while back there "riot HATES gay men" became a whole memetic chorus repeated ad nauseam, and this did affect the decisionmaking process. In the following months they got lil nas X to collab on their yearly esports theme and collab on the new gay champion release (a man permanently separated from his ex partner because he was terrible in the relationship. no comment) and we also got the pride month reconfirmation that tfgraves are gay for eachother, though once again not in a relationship and not allowed to even confess, they were just posing in general proximity under the rainbow flag; an obvious step down from the pitch where they had Old Romantic History. Not even a kiss. You can sense the pattern on how riot approaches gay men here, and /why/ a lot of people on the fence have rallied behind jayvik after season 2. It would finally subvert the trend.

I would say post season 1 it was obviously caitvi city, with some other niches, biggest ones being timebomb and jayvik. Caitvi were Mega viral, successfully tricked general audiences into calling the game "league of lesbians" for a while back there, ascribing progressivity to the company where it was pinkmoneying at best. People's general hatred of jayce made it so he was underutilized, misread and mischaracterized at large, INCLUDING in caitvi or general fanworks. He was a republican trumpian dumbjock stocks guy, insert your least liked man here. It was not uncommon to click on a jayvik fic/fanart and see some sort of sentiment related to "oh jayce sucks but someone needs to kiss viktor", and this was mild ribbings when compared to people who DIDN'T ship it. On these other waters it was common to see "Viktor deserves much better!!!!!!" plastered on all the walls. hence the massive y/n stats on viktors page.

still, people who stuck by jayvik were generally doubly invested on it, and they even got a couple of zines made! Secret santa projects were also up and running for some years. There was fanmerch though not as much as we are seeing now, and also a recapture of league vikjayce content in much, much smaller numbers. Even back then and in the years before season 2 some rioters would already share and interact with these fanworks; people insisting that jayvik is "new" or was uncommon before are extremely wrong. In AO3 stats alone they were in the top 3 league ships of all time after season 1, and they are firmly #2 as of now, rapidly growing. The fanbase is cosmically larger now but the seed was always there.