#BUT IT'S ALL RIGHT THERE FROM THE START!! IT'S ALL THEEERE

[neosatsuma]

watching someone read Mistborn is like a sport. it's my favorite one btw

[silkspiderrr]

Feedist kinktober #5: Witch's brew

You lean back into the pillows as she puts the heavy flask to your lips.

"Don't worry, you just stop drinking when you're happy with your weight."

she reassures you with a sly smile.

"Pretty simple, right?"

You fail to be completely reassured, but it's too late now.

She tilts the bottle ever so slightly.

You twinge a bit when it suddenly hits your mouth, heavy and thick but perfectly smooth. You let it pool in your mouth while you work up the courage to swallow, and once you do the full experience begins to hit you.

Intense flavours unfold in the back of your throat and work their way forward; creamy, honey-sweet, nutty, flowery is what you think as you try to describe it. An unusual warm tingling sensation spreads through your mouth and throat. Intoxicating.

The next gulp is instinctual and you shiver as the flavours seem to intensify and get more complicated: hints of tea, chocolate, pine, nougat... folding in on themselves and tingling your senses. The thick, velvety substance fills your mouth and plays with your tongue. You pick up the rythm and swallow another large mouthful.

"It's good isn't it?"

Good is a laughable understatement.

You drink the liquid down with a fervor bordering on desperation. It's thick in your throat, and tingles all the way down, landing heavily in your stomach like concrete. You feel the skin of your belly brush against the fabric of your clothes and you notice how full you are. Unable to look down you feel it with your hands; round and taut, somehow already fuller than you've ever been.

"Very good" she coos.

You drink deeply and sheepishly.

The weight in your belly feels good.

The flavours seems to grow and climb, up your spine, clouding your mind, tethering on the edge of overstimulation.

"You're taking it very well."

She tilts the flask further.

An uneasiness washes over you.

You have no idea how much is too much and the heaviness in your stomach is beginning to turn unpleasant. Suddenly the sweetness is sickening and overwhelming.

You slow down as you start to feel queasy, holding your protesting abdomen for comfort. It's so much and it's so heavy and you feel like you're going to be sick.

"Don't worry, you can take a bit more."

Your stomach growls and trembles under your fingers, you briefly feel like you're going to be unwell; then with a sudden loud gurgle your mind goes briefly blank as a feeling of deep relief washes over you.

"Theeere it is..."

It's as if somebody removed a plug from your stomach and a pleasant warm feeling begins to spread throughout your whole body.

Instantly, once again the sickly sweet becomes good, the heaviness becomes comforting, and drinking becomes irresistable.

"Good, good..." She coos.

"You're doing wonderfully."

Each gulp sends a shockwave of pleasure throughout your entire body. You can't help but let your hands wander.

Your clothes are beginning to feel uncomfortable. At first you think it's the heat, but then you start to realize how tight they are.

You place your hands on your hips.

You can feel the flesh pulse with every mouthful, noticeably bulging, swelling under your fingers.

Your eyes roll back as the sensations flood your mind.

The witch laughs.

"Does it feel good?"

It does.

Tight fabric digging into warm, growing meat. You eagerly trace the roundness of your now luxurious curves, you bob the plump flesh of your developing gut, and you marvel at the unexpected heft of your body as you shift it around to get more comfortable.

"My my, don't you just look delicious!"

You keep on drinking.

You are definitely beyond the body you set out to attain but you never want this feeling to stop.

You hazily note the seams of your once loose clothes coming apart. The painful constriction of the fabric giving way to relief as buttons begin to pop and your body spills out victoriously.

"So eager and greedy!"

The witch climbs over you, resting her body on your pillowy gut to better hold the flask.

"Careful now, I don't think they make clothes upwards of this size." She teases, prodding you with her leg.

As if you could ever stop.

You wonder how much could possibly be in that bottle, it feels like an impossible amount. Could it be infinite? Could you be stuck like this forever?

You feel her pointy elbows digging into your swelling flesh, so sensitive now.

"Such a good fat plum pudding."

You feel yourself spilling out amongst the pillows, your entire body a playground for new sensations.

Wave after wave of delicious fat washes over you, each one bringing a new level of ecstacy building onto the last, swelling into a gluttonous crescendo of physical pleasures.

Suddenly your mouth is empty.

"Wow! I can't believe you finished the whole bottle." The witch says with feigned surprise.

You lick the rim to catch the last droplets.

The witch bites her lower lip and traces circles along your belly.

"Very nice..."

She grabs and squeezes your lovehandles.

"Are you satisfied?" She smirks.

You manage a modest burp before desperately blurting out the only coherent word your dopamine riddled brain can deign to conjure up at the moment:

"More?"

[michibap]

Ted Nivison x Backpacker!Reader

after some serious pondering i’ve decided that he needs a cool nonchalant crunchy gf

so here we are

tw: marijuana (bc duh)

-of course you guys meet at the rock climbing gym you work at

-the friend he comes in with is a regular, so you just wave at the two of them from the front desk when they walk in

-ted insists he can gear up without any help, and tells his friend to go off and he’ll find him shortly

-but a few minutes later, you glance up from your phone and see him still grumbling to himself and fumbling with his harness

-at that very moment, he happens to sigh and let his hands flop at his sides, defeated

-he looks up at the front desk and finds you already looking at him,

-leaned back in the beat up desk chair with a vaguely entertained smile twitching across your lips, arms crossed over your chest

“You new here?” you finally ask, cocking your head

-he flushes a bit, breaking into an embarrassed grin,

“Is it that obvious?”

-your smile stretches wider and you shake your head,

“Nah, c’mere.” You say, motioning for him to come closer

-he listens, lumbering over, startling a little when you immediately get to adjusting his straps and buckles with deft hands

-blushing a little when you easily tug him about, checking to make sure he’s properly harnessed

-you glance up, taking in his embarrassed expression, assuming he was a little shy about needing help

“One time,” you start, catching his attention “There was a guy who refused to ask for help, and he got so tangled I had to cut him out.” you finish with a laugh

-Ted finds himself laughing along with you,

“There’s no way, you’ve gotta be fucking with me.”

-you hum no before nodding over to a glass display case on the wall

-the golden plaque beneath it was labeled simply as “The Incident” and inside was a harness, similar to the one Ted was wearing now, cut into multiple ragged pieces, but arranged as though it were still whole

-he laughs again, and looks back to you as you stand up, brushing your hands off on your cargo shorts before looking up at him

“You ready?”

-he’s blushing again as you hook him up to a rig connected to the ceiling, but being flustered quickly changes to confusion when he sees you hooking up to the same rig

“I know I’m new, but I don’t think you’ve gotta come up with me.”

-You only glance up at him as you give your carabiner one final tug, before reaching for his

“‘m not,” you explain as you continue to give his clip one final test tug.

“Basically, you’re gonna be hooked up to me, and I’m gonna make sure you don’t fall and break all of your bones into a million pieces.”

-you look like you’re about to say anything else, but your expression lights up like you’ve just remembered something

-and he watches as you turn tail and jog to the the front to grab a helmet, before jogging back over and handing it to him

-he takes it with a quick thanks

-but he’s looking down at you as he buckles his helmet, a little unsure

“*You’re* in charge of making sure I don’t fall and break my bones into a million little pieces?” he asks, sizing you up

-while you weren’t necessarily small, you were definitely smaller than him

-and if YOU were in charge of making sure that all 6’4 of him didn’t come hurtling to the ground and going SPLAT

-then he wasn’t too sure of how comfortable he was scaling the wall in front of him, that seemed a LITTLE tall for beginners

-you only playfully roll your eyes before leaning your weight back into the harness

-he gasps and stumbles forward a little when it causes the line attached to him to go taught, tugging on his own harness

“Ya.” you say plainly, “Now quit talkin t’ me and get up there.”

-while scaling the wall is a little difficult, your direction makes it a little easier

“Make sure you’re only grabbing the green holds, those are for beginners,”

“Great! Now just pull yourself up using the hold that’s just above your right hand,”

“And just bring your left leg up- just like that- theeere you go.”

-he finds himself looking over his shoulder at you for guidance at first

-but it eventually turns into him looking to you for praise after he figures out how to do anything for himself,

-grumbling to himself when he turns around to find you scrolling on your phone or idly chatting with one of your coworkers instead of watching him

-you make up for your inattentiveness when he makes it to the top, loudly applauding before instructing him to start his descent

“You want me to just let go?!” he yells down at you, clutching the wall

“Yeah!” you call back up to him

-you watch from below as he shifts uncomfortably, shaking out his hands one at a time, but unable to go without at least one hand on the wall

-“…. You’re sure?!”

-he hears your faint laugh from below,

“I wouldn’t steer you wrong!”

-takes another minute to psych himself up before he finally lets go

-pales a little when he descends faster than he thought he would, watching as the rig pulls you up off the ground as he goes down

-but he's able to relax when you wave at him as you cross paths

-one he's grounded, he looks up to watch as you gracefully descend

-you smile once you're finally back on the ground with him,

"That was great! You wanna try one that wasn't meant for kids next?"

-he would be more offended if he wasn't so eager

●・○・●・○・●

-he obviously starts coming to your place of work more frequently, quickly becoming a regular

-could you blame him?

-it was a fun, alternative way to get his exercise in

-and he likes getting to talk to one of the cute employees

-and what. What about it?

-IS THAT A FUCKING CRIME?

-GOD.

-it's not like he's some creep that regularly shows up at your place of work to chat you up

-well-

-it sounds bad when you put it like that

-but it would be significantly worse if you didn't entertain his company

-you were always more than happy to act as belay, content to chill on the ground and yell up to him as he climbed

-even bullying some of your coworkers out of the way when they try to get him started instead of you

-eventually, with your help, he advanced to the point where you no longer felt that he had to be hooked up to you while he was climbing

-but before he could express his disappointment in not being hooked up to you, you clip your carabiner to the rig parallel to his

-and scale the wall beside him

-which was significantly better than you being on the ground, for a variety of reasons

-one of them being that you guys didn't have to yell back and forth to one another

-another being that he could follow your lead, mimicking your movements when he sees you maneuver up the wall in a way that he hadn't previously thought of

-AND maybe he liked when he could see your muscles through your shirt as you pulled yourself up

-but his favorite was surprisingly when you didn't feel like climbing

-and you would instead idly dangle alongside him as he climbed, occasionally adjusting the lines so you could stay level with him

-chatting as you comfortably hang, content to let yourself dangle upside down as the two of you chat about your hobbies outside of work (for you) or the gym (for him)

-you listen as he talks about his channel, occasionally humming to signal that you were listening or chipping in with questions about his road trips or the friends he mentions

-he does the same for you, oo-ing and ahh-ing as you share some tales about your backpacking adventures

-lighting up like a christmas tree when you mention hiking

"Oh, I love hiking!"

-his enthusiasm is curbed when you pause to look him up and down, unconvinced

"Do you really?" you ask, moving to sit up straight in your harness

"Yeah, I do." he huffs, a little offended

-but instead of grilling him on it, he watches you light up before going on a tangent about all of the great trails there are in LA,

-and he's enthusiastically agreeing to everything you're saying

-even though he has No Fucking Clue what you're talking about

-yeah, he's done a few of the touristy hikes in the area,

-but if you held a gun to his head and asked him to explain what the fuck a 'bivy sack' is?

-yeah.

-he's taking that fucking bullet

-no doubt

-"There's a bunch of great spots, but I've gotta say that Tiger Tail is one of my favorites,"

"Really?" he interrupts, "That's totally one of my favorites too! I love Tiger... Trail."

-he watches you raise a brow, and thinks you've caught onto him bullshitting

"Yeah?" you ask, a hint of a challenge to your tone

"Yeah, totally" he doubles down, "I love how... tigery it is."

-you only hum, looking up at him, and he starts to squirm uncomfortably under your gaze

-he KNOWS you’ve caught onto him bullshitting

-and he knows that you know he knows

-and he's sitting there, sweating, WAITING for you to call him out on it

-but you don't

-instead...

"We should go sometime," you suggest, "I'd love to see you in... what was it you said? Your element?"

-FUCK.

-"Yeah, totally! That sounds great!"

-God dammit.

-Three days later, he finds himself sitting in a concerningly empty parking lot,

-and decided that this is significantly worse than if you had just called him out on lying

-he perks up when he sees what he assumes to be your car pull in, recognizing it from the gym's parking lot

-and despite his trepidation, he's grinning and getting out of his car to greet you

-but his grin falters when he sees confusion flash across your features when you take all of him in

-with his cute outfit he had specifically chosen for today

-thrifted windbreaker layered over a graphic tee, denim shorts, and a squeaky new pair of converse he had been saving for today

-and compared to you, decked out in your fuckin,, patagonia or whatever, with your usual cargo shorts, with a quite frankly absurd amount of pockets, and a sturdy pair of hiking boots

-he looked severely under prepared

-to put it lightly

-you two pause for a moment, staring at each other, trying to figure out what to say

-before he breaks the silence

“This isn’t you trying to lure me into the woods to kill me, is it?”

-he watches you scoff and playfully roll your eyes,

“Don’t flatter yourself.” followed by a mischievous grin,

“Is it working?”

-he only grins and steps to the side, motioning to the entrance of the trail,

“Lead the way.”

-about an hour into your trek, ted is actually convinced that you’re leading him into the woods to kill him

-he’s embarrassingly sweaty, already having to rid himself of his fashionable layers

-and he knows you’ve seen him stumble and trip countless times as he has a significantly more difficult time navigating the rocky path than you seem to be

-but you don't mention it, content to walk in a comfortable silence (for YOU) (he's fighting for his life)

-it's almost unfair how easy it is for you

-he's glaring at your back as you navigate the treacherous path with more grace than he has on a sidewalk

-he had known that some people are just "outdoorsy", but he doesn't think that word is enough to describe how perfectly you fit in place in the depths of the forest

-it was like you were breathing easier out here

-your body language entirely relaxed as you nimbly weave around roots and stones and rash inducing plants

-and he thinks your skin *might* be glowing,

-but that might just be him needing to wipe the sweat out of his eyes again

-At some point, you lead him off path, claiming to "know a spot"

-he stopped, staring at where you were trying to lead him off of the beaten path and into the woods,

"Oh my god, you're actually going to kill me out here."

-you only roll your eyes again, "Don't be a baby."

-and if that doesn't get him going, what will?

-following another 40, grueling minutes of stumbling through the forest, you lead him to a small clearing by a cliffside, overlooking the city

-he doesn't even take the time to admire it, practically throwing himself on the ground and guzzling the warm water he had packed and fiendishly scratching his new collection of bug bites

-doesn't really notice you settling next to him, vaguely recognizing the sound of you rustling through your backpack

-but his head whips up when he hears the familiar "chk chk chk" of a lighter, looking to you

-and you have a joint hanging from between your lips, holding a lighter to it before glancing to him

-and you take in his bewildered expression before quickly plucking the joint from your lips with wide eyes,

"Shit- Sorry, I didn't even ask if you smoke" you rush out, trying to make quick work of embarassedly hiding the joint back in your bag as you try to defend yourself,

"I kind of just assumed-"

"No, no, you're good." Ted interrupts with a short laugh,

"I was just kind of surprised you wanted to smoke me out after making an actual attempt on my life."

-the mood lightens again when your shoulders relax and you chuckle, "Oh, good. You had me worried for a sec."

-he watches as you take the spliff back out of your bag and lighting it for him before passing it off

-he adjusts to sit more comfortably as he takes a drag, looking out at the undeniably fantastic view,

"Is this where you usually bring all of your hoes?" he jokes, smoke billowing from his mouth as he laughs at himself, handing the blunt back off to you

-you huff a laugh,

"Mhm," you hum as you take a drag yourself, "Usually, you'd be cut up into a million tiny pieces and in my stomach by now."

"So what I'm hearing is that I'm special."

-you laugh again, bringing one of your knees up to your chest and resting your cheek on it as you watch him take another hit,

"I guess you could say something like that."

-another beat of silence passes as you hand the joint back and forth a few more times,

-until eventually he hands it back to you, and he watches as you take a final hit before ashing it and stick the roach in one of your pockets for later

-not wanting to end up too stoned to navigate your way back to the path

-for a few minutes, the two of you are content to look out at the horizon, soaking up the combination of soaking up the sun, admiring the view, and enjoying one another's presence

-but ted is a D1 Yapper

-and the weed in his system has him a little chatty,

"Can I tell you a secret?" he finally interrupts

You lazily turn your head back to him with an inquisitive hum that has his chest squeezing

"I was kind of lying, when I told you I was *super* into hiking."

-he gets nervous again when you don't say anything, simply staring at him for a moment

-before you quietly laugh, shaking your head

"No shit."

-it's his turn to stare now

-mouth dumbly dropped open while he takes a few seconds to process

"*What?*"

-you laugh again, a little louder this time

"Dude, I knew you were bullshitting when I first brought this up."

"No shot, you've gotta be fucking with me."

-you grin and hum, shaking your head no,

"How?" Ted asked, genuinely confused

"Well first off," you start, "I can tell by your quads, and how you're still out of breath that you're not that big on hiking."

Ted blushes, growing a little sheepish

"And the fact that you showed up in fucking *converse* told me all that I needed to know."

"Okay, but-" he attempts to cut in for damage control, but you power forward

"And!" you continue, "I didn't hear you mention anything about the... what was it that you said?" you take a moment to pretend to think, placing a thoughtful finger on your chin, "The... tigery-ness? That you love so much? Not a single time." you finish with a coy smile

-very clearly (and thankfully) entertained rather than upset

-Ted playfully rolls his eyes, knowing he's been caught

"Alright, well, since you seem to know everything..." he pauses and shifts a little closer and turning to face you more directly, "Then why'd you invite me out here?"

-A smile plays on your lips and you hum again, before you shift to match his body language

-you simply observe him for a moment, watching as he squirms under your gaze

"Well," you start slowly, intentionally letting him hang on your words.

"I think you're really cute," you admit with a blush, ignoring how he perks up with a smile

"And I wanted to see how far you'd take it."

-he throws his head back with a laugh, before turning back to you

"Right... Well, you got me. Dragging my ass three miles into the woods for a bit is crazy, though. Just so you know."

-he watches you proudly nod with a smile

-emboldened, he scoots a little closer,

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Mhm", you nod, looking up at him through your lashes, making no move to pull away as he drew closer

"How much farther were you willing to take it?"

-you huff another laugh, and he's close enough to feel the short puff of air brush across his lips

-and he swears you move imperceptibly closer, but just as he goes to close his eyes and lean into what he had assumed would be a kiss

-you're pushing off the ground, brushing yourself off.

"Well, if you wanna finish the trail, we've got another four miles to go. And let me tell you from experience, it doesn't get any easier from here." you start

"But if you wan to just turn around like I thought you would, we've got a solid three miles back. Either way, we're losing daylight. So we should probably get moving before the coyotes do."

you finish, holding a hand out to pull him off the ground

-he just stares up at you for a moment, once again finding himself struggling to process what the hell was happening

"The fucking *what*?"

●・○・●・○・●

-I'm hoping you guys see the vision by now bc i feel like writing headcanons

-he'd be super into the outdoorsy-chic fashion i feel

-so, thrifting dates to find him proper hiking gear

-also bc he likes going hiking w you

-he kinda feels bad bringing you on dates that are anywhere aside from the outdoors

-its like forcing an outdoor cat to come to the mall with you

-him slowly getting more ripped the longer he keeps on coming to your job to bother you (HRMJDF #DNS_)

-getting more into hiking and exploring with you in general

-he doesn't really like when you go on backpacking trips without him, especially when he'll have to occasionally go for days without contacting you bc you're balls deep in mother nature

-but he cherishes the occasional calls he receives where you update him on your travels, recounting details from your adventures that you know he would appreciate and sharing all of the drama with your trail buddies that you've met

-and he loves the pictures of the landscape that you send,

-but his favorite photos he receives are the selfies of you with a grand backdrop, usually with a wide smile and a silly thumbs up or peace sign

-BEGS you to bring him on your backpacking trips for literally so long

-but you refuse for a while because a) that's YOUR thing, and it's important to have your own life outside of your partner

and b) he can hardly handle an intermediate level five mile trail

-but eventually....

-he disappears from the internet for like six weeks

-comes back with an hour long video titled "I Hiked (some of) the Appalachian Trail"

-the video recounts his journey ofc

-includes moments between the two of you, ranging from sweet moments together to devolving into madness after being alone in the woods together for an extended period of time

-casual hard launch

-along with introductions to everyone he met and travelled with on the trail (who agreed to be in the vid ofc)

-one clip of you scaring off a bear goes viral

-you two had been filming it from a distance, giggling as you watch it sniff at the supplies you had left hanging in a tree the night before

-it's no longer funny when it turns and looks at you guys before starting to make its way over to you

-and he manages to capture you yelling "FUCK OFF" at a bear

-standing on business in your jammas

-also the audience going feral watching as he gets progressively more rugged throughout the video, the longer he was on the trail with you

-taste tests of all of the pre-packaged, dehydrated food you guys brought

-shots of all of the wildlife and beautiful landscapes

-a clip of the two of you splashing around in some lake the two of you come across

-another of the two of you huddled close in a tent, hands over your mouths to hold back nervous giggles as you listen to coyotes sniff around your campsite

-finding cute little towns to stop in and restock on supplies, along with meeting some locals and fellow travelers

-some more Little Things:

-he's OBSESSED with the indentations from being in your rock climbing harness all day

-constantly running his fingers over them when they're in plain sight

-the first night home after his appalachian adventure is the best sleep he'll ever get, comfortably nestled in his own bed, freshly showered with you tucked into his chest

-him scolding you whenever you come home from a trip with a fresh batch of bruises and scrapes

-you two are The Coolest In the Room in almost any given social situation, with endless cool anecdotes about your travels

-it means So Much to him when you tag along on his indoor boy endeavors, bc he knows its not your thing

-him finally wrangling you down for a day in when its raining out, wasting the day away rotting on the couch, eating junk food and watching brain rot television

-and maybe you end up napping the majority of the day, but seeing you so relaxed in his presence when you're usually on the go just scratches a certain itch in his brain

-however, he does have to deal with you having the zoomies later in the evening after being latent all day

-maybe you guys will go on a late night ride

-or sth else to burn off some energy? idk

●・○・●・○・●

hope you guys liked this!

i feel like this clicks better than soccer!gf bc lowkey soccer!gf was intended to be a background character in hockey!gf universe, so it was weird trying to flesh her out more when she was originally intended to be an offputting lesbian side character

[pfhwrittes]

Here’s a prompt for ya: Soap takes their partner to the gym at the ass crake of dawn so no one is there. His partner is doing arm curls when Soap tells them to hold that position. When they do Soap slips his shorts down really quick and starts thrusting sloppily into their arms, either the bend of their elbow or the tight space in their pit

awooo wooo woooo! anon, you've got me barking and growling at this one!

cw/tw: readers genitals are referred to as “cunt”, armpit fucking, mentions of somnophilia, muscle fetish, gym wear fetish, sex in a public space (kind of), nicknames (“hen” and “bonnie”), bodily fluids (sweat and cum), dubcon/noncon.

pairing: john “soap” mactavish x AFAB!reader

word count: 912

a/n: a little drabble from johnny’s POV this time. tagged as noncon and dubcon because this is definitely borderline but unfortunately johnny is a mutt and doesn’t particularly care. also, anon i’m so sorry for accidentally forgetting about your prompt. i didn’t mean to, i’m just easily distracted and also got weirdly in my head about this not being good enough??? not entirely sure who put me in charge of my own brain but here we are.

johnny would admit, if you were aware enough to ask, to having an ulterior motive (besides helping you get stronger like you asked) by dragging you down to the gym at 5am.

(although he was sorely tempted to roll you over and slide into your warm, wet cunt when you groaned at him sleepily. he spent a few minutes thinking about how he could get you to make more of those pretty noises before deciding that he could wait for another opportunity as he woke you up by peppering light kisses all over your face.)

for johnny it’s all worth it when he catches a glimpse at you in the mirrors opposite the benches the other gym goers usually use for chest presses. you’re stripped down to your sports bra (he’d been quick to persuade you out of the loose t-shirt you were wearing, claiming that the fabric would impede your range of motion), biting your lip in concentration as you flex your bicep to lift the dumbbell in your grip. 

steamin’ jesus. the sight of you already has him hard enough to hammer nails. 

johnny glances around the empty gym, eyeing the clock above the doors. if he’s quick he should be finished before even the earliest of risers interrupt his plans. with a final casual glance around, johnny steps away from the racks where he’s been perving loitering waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt you. 

aaaand there it is, just as you’re about to put the dumbbell down to switch to your other arm. 

johnny sidles up to you, clicking his tongue in faux-disapproval. 

“c’mon hen, you cannae be done already!”

you huff and blink as a bead of sweat makes its way down from your temple over the curve of your cheek (and johnny beats back the urge to lean down and lick it up). you slowly start to lower the dumbbell, probably to ignore him and well, that won’t do. 

johnny clicks his tongue again and pouts just a little, reaching out to lift your arm into the correct position for his plans with a solid grasp (he tries not to think about the way the muscles in your forearm flex automatically to balance the weight in your hand under his palm).

“theeere we go, bonnie. just hold it right there fer me.” johnny praises distractedly, checking the doorway and the clock a final time. he purposefully keeps his grip on your forearm and pulls his tented shorts down to his mid thigh with his spare hand. his leaking cock slaps against his stomach and he grunts as the sensitive head rubs against cotton, smearing pre-cum messily as it does. 

“wh- johnny! jesus christ, not here!” you hiss out, your head whipping around to check if anyone else is in the gym (there isn’t, johnny had done weeks of recon so that he could time this perfectly thank you very much).

“i’ll be quick, hen. don’t worry.” johnny tells you, already guiding his cock into the tight and warm space of your armpit. he groans loudly, the sound echoing around the empty space, as he revels in the sensation of thrusting in between the side of your sports bra and inner arm. 

you go to pull your now trembling arm out of johnny’s grip and he squeezes your wrist in warning, thrusting a little bit harder when you yelp. christ, you make the sweetest noises for him, you really do. 

“don’t spoil it fer me now, bonnie.” god, his voice is already hoarse - like he’s been fucking you for hours instead of less than a minute. hell’s bells if you ever figured out the power you hold over him he’d be a goner for certain. 

johnny loses himself in the slide against your body, his pre-cum and a hint of your sweat easing the way, as he holds your wrist tightly. he can’t have you pull away even for a second. 

“fuckin’ hell, you just feel so fuckin’ good.” he pants out, “been thinkin’ about this for weeks, ever since you asked me tae help ye find a gym.” 

the dumbbell slips from your fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud but johnny doesn’t care, can’t care, as his hips piston back and forth. distantly he hears you whimper over the slick, wet sounds of his cock rutting into your armpit causing him to spit pre-cum messily onto your soft skin and the damp fabric of your sports bra.

“do that again.” he demands, grinding his hips desperately, “c’mon bonnie, i’m so close.” 

“johnny -” 

whatever you’re trying to say gets drowned out by his loud moan as he comes messily. thick, wet ropes cling to your inner arm, the soft skin of your armpit, and drip lazily onto your chest. johnny grinds his softening cock into the mess on your skin, relishing in the last feeble twitch before stepping back and dropping your arm carelessly. 

with trembling fingers johnny pulls his shorts back up over his hips, hissing as the fabric rubs uncomfortably against his sticky and sensitive skin. he flicks his eyes up to the clock above the doors and grins, perfectly timed as always mactavish.

“better clean up hen, it’ll be gettin’ busy now.” 

johnny saunters away from you, whistling lazily, completely uncaring of the disgusted look you shoot at his back. 

(it’s worth it, even when you cancel your gym membership and refuse to wear anything other than long sleeved tops for weeks afterwards.)

[vulpixisananimal]

(The characters Wren and Polaris belong to @fungal--wastes and @neoncityrain respectivley)

"Neeeearly there~"

(Isabeau was waiting in front of the homestead, so you decided to try something else. And that something else was breaking into one of the rooms from outside!)

(You were standing on Ramos' shoulders to get into one of the guest rooms on the second floor. You were digging your knife under the rim of a window to cut out the small lock. The rain didn't help, but Ramos was surprisngly sturdy.)

"T-take your time! I really wouldn't want you to fall a-and hurt yourself!" (Mira says, concerned.)

"Ha! Not like that'd be an issue anyways-"

"No!!!"

"H-hey careful, Isa might hear." (Ramos comments. They're right, gotta go quick. It should just be a bit more and. . .)

"Theeere we go!" (You say, smugly opening the window and climbing in.)

"W-what should we do, Siffrin?" (Mira calls up to you. You think a bit.)

"Try not to get touched? Maybe just be a distraction?" (You shrug.)

"We'll figure something out!" (Ramos gives you a thumbs up. You nod. Now, the room.)

(Small room. Single bed. There was a heavy looking pack by one side and a few clothes spread around the floor. There was a small desk with a well worn book on it, and a few papers. The bed was sloppily made, probably by someone who wanted it to look neat but still didn't want it to be a mess. There was a spear leaning against a wall. It was surprisingly chilly.)

(Whos room was this, anyway? Single bed, so none of your familys. Jans? No it would have more stuff, they lived here right? Not that bickering pair or bonded couple, you imagine they would have had a shared room. So that left that traveler.)

(Convenient!)

(You start at the pack, you had to move fast. Looking through it, it had a few changes of clothes, some rations, and a lot of things you didn't know what they were. Although they looked like something Odile would use. Maybe she was a researcher AND a traveler? Ha! Those two would get along. Some of the clothes looked wildly different, though. Fashion too?)

(You look up at the spear. . . Yep, that sure was a spear. Looked sturdy, long, and- dulled? Huh. The tip of the spear was blunt. Maybe it was for training.)

(Okay, then what about the papers and book? You go over to the desk and take a look. The papers were newspapers, a few letters from different people, oh it's research! They were all about the King and Time Craft. Didn't Odile say one time that scholars were really interested in Time Craft showing up?)

(None of the papers had anything you didn't already know about. You open the book.)

(. . . . . . Huh.)

(Flipping through the pages, you notice a lot of things. Theres a lot of drawing of landscapes, and people, and monsters. A lot of them had notes, too. That traveler must have a vivid imagination. There were notes about all sorts of things. Reminders written by the writer. And it looked like they were writing conversatons? Hmm. . .)

(You flip a few pages and stop. There's diagrams here. Measurments. Circles and symbols you didn't exactly recognise. Advanced craft? It looked VERY advanced whatever it was. You tried reading more, but it was getting more and more complicated. Maybe if you brought it to Odile-)

(You jump as a gloved hand reached around and covers your mouth. A second grabs you neck, both were freezing cold.)

"What the hell are you doing in our room." (You hear from a voice behind you. It sounded, very, very angry.)

(Ooooooooh stars oh that's, that's not good. Okay, okay you can deal with this Siffrin. And besides, you can also just try again. You mumble into the gloved hand.)

(Your assailant huffs, and uncovers your mouth.) "Quietly, now."

(Stars, what do you say?!?) "I-I uh, I-I was just looking around."

"Cut it!" (You feel that hand on your throat tighten, a familiar feeling.) "We are not in a mood for jokes."

(You hear the door to the room open and someone run inside, before closing it again. You smell mint. There's a new voice.) "Miss Vixul I- Who?!?"

"A thief, probably." (You hear, who you assume to be, Vixul say.)

"Unlikely, that is one of the Saviors of Vaugarde." (You hear the new voice say the title dripping with sarcasm.) "Although I suppose he could be both."

"N-nope!" (You squeeze out.) "J-just wanting to make sure the inn is s-safe to sleep in!"

"Lying." (Says the new voice.) "Miss if you could deal with this, I have to tend to Polaris."

"How is he?" (Vixul asks.)

"Befuddled still. Whatever is effecting his mind, it's strong."

(Wait!!!) "H-him, too?" (You mumble out.)

(There's a pause, and then the new voice talks.) ". . . Are others being effected by it, Savior?"

(You nod, frantically.) "M-my uh, u-uh, t-traveling companion, h-he, he's not himself right now."

"Traveling companion?" (You hear Vixul say in the same tone of voice Odile would use when talking about you two.) "Big buff guy?"

(You nod.) "T-that's why I'm here. It spreads by touch, a-and, I think you were the last to, to touch him, s-so. . ."

". . ." (There's a silence, Vixul speaks up eventually.) "You've dealt with this before, haven't you?"

(You nod.) "It smells like mint, spreads through touch. It changes your memories, or controlls you, o-or just, looks through them?"

"You do not sound very confident." (The new voice comments.) "But, that seems accurate."

". . . . ." (You hear Vixul sigh.) "I'm going to let you go. You're gonna help us with this, and we'll help you back. Don't even try to fight me, got it?"

"Can do!" (You laugh a little, your heart not in it.)

(She lets you go, you rub your neck and finally turn around to see who these two were- oh, three. The third person was unconscious and on the bed. You assume that was Polaris. The curly haired one was standing next to him. Vixul, was standing a few feet away, having grabbed the spear off the wall. She was glaring at you.)

(You breathe in, and out.) "Good to meet you two~"

(The curly haired one rolls his eyes.) "My name is Wren. This idiot is Polaris." (He says, gesturing to the unconscious one.)

"Vixul." (Says the tall one. Few words, huh.)

"Siffrin." (You smile at them.) "So! What happened?"

"Nope, you first." (Vixul says, glaring at you.) "You broke into my room after all. How do you know so much about mind craft."

"R-right. ." (You lean against a wall. Stars, where to start. Well, hmm, keep it vauge?) "Well, I experienced it first hand. Few weeks ago in Jouvente someone was going around messing with things."

"Details, please." (Says Wren, glaring at you.)

(Stars.) "Well. . . The person who was messing things was also being messed with. After sorting everything out, they uh, actually joined us on trying to find out who started it."

"Really?" (Vixul looked at you with a look that screamed dissapointment.) "That doesn't sound suspicious at all."

"I know I know!! Listen it just, made sense in the moment!!" (You shake your head.) "They still know some mind craft, and if they try anything they know I'll be after em."

"Stupid. If they know mind craft they'll just change your memory so you don't." (Wren retorts.) "You can't be that idiotic, right?"

(You wince, well, he WAS right.) "I. . . Have my ways?"

"There's a way to resist mind craft?" (He tilts his head.) "Tell."

(Stars above. Great. You look between the strangers you were talking to. No way you could bring THAT up here.) ". . . It's personal."

(You see Vixul and Wren give each other a look.)

". . . Fine, alright, how do we undo it." (Vixul asks, looking tired.)

"Last time there was a sort of charm that, once broken, dispelled the Mind Craft. It looked like a star."

(There was a silence as the two of them started thinking. You were thinking, too. Who was this trio anyways? They didn't seem like just ordinary travelers. You couldn't place Vixuls accent, and Wren seemed very. . . attentive.)

"So, what about him?" (You say, asking about Polaris.)

"Oh! Right." (Vixul huffed.) "Well that guy Isabeau, he went upstairs, came downstairs, said hi to me, hi to Polaris, Polaris said he felt sick, started acting weird, and Wren put him to sleep to take him up here. I got here first and found you and you know the rest."

(You nod, following along. So Isa started spreading mind craft after he went upstairs then back? Maybe it was someone up there who spread it to him. Then- wait a second.) "Why aren't you being effected by mind craft?"

(Vixul opens her mouth, then closes it, then looks away.) ". . . It's personal."

(Personal? What would be personal that could- oh.)

(Oooohhh. . .)

(She wasn't writing a conversation in her book, she was writing to herself. She resisted the mind craft. And she did say "we" instead of "I" earlier.)

(. . . . . .)

(. . . . Somehow, this makes you feel less alone.)

". . . Any other questions?" (Wren asks.)

"N-nope! That's all!" (You smile at them.)

(He nods, and sighs.) ". . . Then you should get going. Me and Vixul will look for that charm once Polaris is safe." (It was a very clear message of 'please leave'.)

"Sounds good to me~" (You say, walking over to the door.) "Don't be strangers now! Though, might want to work on your introductions."

"Same to you." (Vixul replies. Rolling her eyes.) "Try not looking through peoples stuff."

"No promises!" (You laugh a little. And open the door out.) "And if you need m- Oh!"

(Odile was standing in the hallway outside the room looking at you.)

(You wave to her.) "Morning, Odile! I was just-"

(She raises a hand towards you. What was she-)

<MOVE>

(You feel your body move on instinct at the sudden screaming inside your head. You jump back into Vixuls room You feel some powerful craft spell in the spot you were just standing-)

<Keep moving. Dangerous.>

(What?!? WHEN did you show up-)

"Oh what now!" (Vixul says, grabbing her spear and standing up.)

"I-I don't know! One of my companions, she-" (What WAS Odile doing?!?)

<Dangerous. A seal, or craft break, or->

(What do you MEAN?!?)

"She's likely effected by mind craft." (Wren takes up a position between the door and Polaris.)

(You see Odile appear in the doorway. She's not saying anything. She's sweating, like she's trying really hard to focus on. . . Something. She holds up a palm again.)

"Move it!!" (Vixul knocks you out of the and takes whatever craft spell Odile was using. She stumbles back.) "Hrrgh-"

"Miss Vixul!"

"I-I'm fine! Hey! Lady!! What's your problem?!?"

"Odile. . ." (You mumble, what, she's, being controlled too?!?)

<No time. Find a way out.>

(But, she, there's no way, right? She's too smart for that! She would have helped so much with this! And, a-and-)

<Enough. You look around the room. Window, Wren, books, Vixul, Odile, bed->

<Odile raises up her hand again, it looks like she's trying to say something.>

"Leave us alone, please." (Wren says, annoyed. He holds up a paper sign of his own, crackling with craft. You see Odiles spell get caught mid flight by Wrens. Counterspell?)

"O-Odile! What's going on what's, w-what-" (You stumble out.)

"That's Odile?" (Vixul asks, looking between you and her.) "I think she's trying to kill you, bud."

"B-but-"

"Go, Siffrin." (Wren says, preparing another counter.) "We will be fine."

(You open your mouth to protest, but your words get stuck in your throat. B-but, but she-)

<It's time to go.>

(Null wait, I- WAIT WAIT- WE NEED TO HELP ODILE!!)

<You make a dash for the window and jump out.>

[jack-kellys]

hiya fizz!! can I request davey + forgetting to eat for the bad things happen bingo? idk it just feels so Him yk

bonus points if there's javey involved asw (maybe with the anger born of worry trope idk)

tyy :))

hey theeere kit of course! one box per fic, though, making it harder for myself >:)

ao3 series here, and request a trope from these here!

The chillier breezes and shifting leaves of autumn came quicker than David could have planned. Not like he can plan seasons, of course, but he hadn’t had time to factor in what autumn meant to his, shall he say.. outside responsibilities.

School, for one, had picked up once September finished- assignments were piling enough and David left home that morning with Les with arithmetic still to complete. It occupied his lunch period, pencil messily scratching across the page to finish it before his next class.

And after school he’s at the circulation gate, waiting for the evening edition with a couple of the boys. Sometimes Sarah accompanies him when she can get out of the house, and especially since their folks don’t permit Les to sell anymore (much to the now ten-year-old’s chagrin), but today isn’t one of those days. It’s solely David, tapping his foot.

“He’s late,” he mutters out, not to anyone in particular.

“Who, Jack?” Racer asks, perking up. That’s true, but not what David meant.

“Wiesel,” David sighs. “Folks are expecting us on the streets in only a few minutes, right?”

“Cool it,” Racer chuckles. “Ain’t a thing. We got better things to be pissed at him about.”

“I’m not- pissed,” David frowns, shoulders bunching a little. He stops tapping his foot. Race gives him an exaggerated nod, eyes widened, and David rolls his own. Finally the gate opens and when David turns away from the window with his fifty papers in hand, Jack appears in front of him with some kind of smile on his face.

“You’re also late,” David says, and Jack only smiles wider. “You selling?”

“Ain’t I always,” Jack smirks, patting his bag- less than his usual, David thinks. “I got a request.”

David’s lips quirk, following Jack when he begins to walk them away from the circulation center. “What kind, exactly?”

“A good one, promise,” Jack replies, setting his hand on Davey’s shoulder, likely to steer him toward whatever odd adventure Jack’s planned. “It’s startin’ to get colder, you know, and Klopp can only buy so much for us. It’s up to us older fellas to pick up the slack. New socks, new gloves, extra fabric to stuff clothes with.”

That’s reasonable in terms of necessity, but not in the way that matters most. David turns his head toward Jack. “How did you get the money for that?”

Jack smiles again, wide, eyes narrowed in amusement or pride.

“Easy,” he states. “I didn’t. Now c’mon.”

For all of the legends and stories David has heard, he’s never seen Jack’s thieving skills in action. There are lots of things he’s swiped over the years, apparently, that simply hadn’t made it to his rap sheet- and most were far more impressive than food and clothing. So while David doesn’t exactly like it, he makes conversation with a shop clerk while Jack slithers into the store behind him. The bottom line is that they can’t afford it, and the kids at the lodge need it, and that has to outweigh the moral consequences of it all.

David’s normally a talkative person. Not a good talker, maybe–definitely a better one now–but he can keep going, and going. He’s leaning on the counter, having linked his english class to the price of wool going up somehow, and he feels his brain start to…slide, almost. It feels distracted, but not by anything he can tell, and his gaze falls to the counter as it does. Maybe he’s just tired, but he has to keep talking so Jack can get–

“Hey. Hey. Kid, you alright?”

David’s head snaps up with a quick inhale at the clerk’s voice, blinking a few times to sort out his vision. He’d been really intent on that counter.

“Uh, yes, yeah,” he nods quickly. “Just fine, ah- sorry, what was I talking about..?”

“You ain’t been talking for nearly a minute,” the clerk replies, “what- HEY!”

That can only mean one thing. David can hear the door open, and before it can close, he’s running outside.

“Thought you said you were good at this!” David yells, catching up to Jack. His paper bag is filled, and his shirt must be stuffed- he’s gripping his sleeves like random objects might start pooling out from them.

“I am when my partner ain’t suddenly go dead silent!” Jack retorts, glancing behind them. He picks up his pace, and painstakingly, David does the same, a pit forming in his stomach.

His expression slackens. More than a pit- something like a hurricane, swirling his insides in circles, over and over.

“Jack,” he tries, but his voice doesn’t carry this time. He’s way more out of breath than he should be. “Jack. We need to- I need to stop.”

His partner’s head swivels at that, expression incredulous. “Dave, we-”

Jack blinks, eyes widening suddenly, and he nods vigorously. Ask and David shall receive, apparently…

In a moment, Jack’s hands are on him, as if he knew David was inches from stumbling. He practically shoves David into an alley, the change in direction jostling his brain. His legs are keeping up, but his brain can’t seem to, and every time he blinks they’re an extra five feet ahead of where they only just were.

Finally, Jack stops, and so does David, breathing hard. Spots are entering his vision, and he tries to blink them away, grabbing onto a railing at the bottom of a fire escape to steady himself.

“Shit, Dee,” he hears Jack hiss, and his fingers fall away from the railing as he’s guided and then sat against the wall. In front of him are Jack’s big, blurred, midnight-dark eyes, his eyebrows creased with concern. Light dapples parts of his face from above, landing on his pink-brown cheeks. He must’ve set David under the stairs. “Davey- Davey, hey, what’s goin’ on? What happened?”

Jack pats his cheek suddenly as he speaks, jerking David back to an attention he hadn’t realized he’d left.

“I just… can’t. Run. Ri’now,” David supplies, blinking at the other.

“Yeah I got that,” Jack almost chuckles, gaze still filled with worry His hand finds David’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

David shakes his head slowly, leaning into Jack’s palm. “Had to do math, during lunch.”

This somehow confounds Jack more, eyebrows scrunching, before he nods.

“Davey,” Jack sighs. “You gotta eat during lunch, okay? Gotta do that, or you’re gonna black out mid-sprint.”

“I blacked out after,” David corrects. The corrects again- “I didn’t black out.”

Jack nods in what David assumes is mock-understanding, before the boy shifts closer, pressing a quick kiss to David’s temple. Then he leans back, sitting on his knees and watching David for a moment. He can feel himself smile slightly, and Jack mirrors it meltily, before David snorts as the other tries to quickly wipe it off his face.

“Stay there,” Jack orders, standing himself up. “I’m gonna go grab you somethin’, alright? Then we’ll head back.”

David nods, leaning his head back against the brick behind him and resting his eyes. There’s no movement in front of him.

“Stop staring and get me some food, Kelly,” he hums.

“I–” Jack huffs. There’s a pause. “On it.”

[rayofdawnworld]

Too Late part 2

Well, here is part two of my very first Reader Inert fic. Tell me how I'm doing, please. Thanks again to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor making this wonderful mood board that inspired me to do this.

Minors DON NOT INTERACT. I MEAN IT! If you're under 18 come back when you are.

Tags will be added as needed.

I will tag you if you want.

Tagging you based on your likes: @silelda, @thezombieprostitute,@thedragonlab, @leonaax, @chocolatecherryblossomsweets

This is a Dark fic. How dark I don't know, it all depends.

Obsessive!Sherlock Holmes/Smart!Reader

Warnings, none yet.

Part 1 Part 3

You were walking home after a long day of work. It was getting late, and you still had a day's work ahead of you tomorrow. At least it wasn't raining. Some of the students thought it would be funny to spill pigs' innards all over the medical classrooms as a prank. Of course, to the casual observer, it all looked the same, but despite the similarities, there were slight differences that a more knowledgeable or careful observer would catch. You were only slightly embarrassed to admit that it had taken you a bit longer to realise that the organs spilled all over the floors were not, in fact, human. The only thing giving you some comfort was that the professors, those highly intelligent and superior minds, took longer than you. 

Sadly, since you were one of three maids who had not fainted at the macabre sight, you and the other ladies were tasked with cleaning everything up. You smelled like clotted blood and spoiled meat. You were wet, you were starving, your back hurt, you were past feeling your feet, your knees were bruising, and your hands were beginning to cramp. 

That didn't stop you from realising that someone was following you.

Of all the things I need, whatever this is right now is not it. Taking advantage of the chill, you rubbed your hands roughly and started to work out their kinks harshly, going as far as to bite some of your fingers discreetly while also constraining your breath and steps. 

There was no need to warn whoever was following you that you had caught on to their presence.

Having barely managed to gain some fluidity in your hands, you put them in your apron pockets, thanking God that you had opted not to take them off, as was your habit.

You counted your steps to ten as you breathed deeply every two steps. You grabbed the small pistol you found in your mother's jewellery bag. 

You reached ten and spun swiftly. Years of training with your mother and dancing, the one thing your aunt let you take with Anna to keep up appearances, kept you from getting dizzy. 

There was no one there. Or at least, it seemed that way. You smiled.

"I know you are out theeere" you sang in a taunt. "I felt you following me," you growled. "And I do know how to shoot." And with that final warning breathed into the night, you took off on a run. After all, you had always been a fast runner. 

You reached your shabby rooms, just barely missing the curfew. Luckily, Mrs. Acker took one look at you and ushered you in. You thanked her profusely as she helped you take off your clothes. Even your underthings were impregnated with the smell of blood, sweat, and the beginnings of rot. You would have to pay for the bath come next payday. You scrubbed yourself, feeling a bit better despite your tiredness. Looking at the clock, you moaned petulantly. You would only have a few hours of sleep before having to get up early to help old Mr. Beckwourth in the market stall selling fish. 

It wasn't by chance that you chose these jobs. Both took time, had a modestly adequate pay, rendered you invisible, and lent you a godawful smell, ensuring that none came near you. Just two more weeks. That's all. Two more weeks. You rambled in your mind as you got out of the old metallic tub and dried yourself as best you could. 

As you got ready for bed, you mourned the loss of intelligent conversation. You would do just about anything to have an engaging exchange. You'd give anything for a good game of chess. Two more weeks. You felt as if these last weeks were going to be the hardest yet. 

You seemed to have forgotten the age-old adage, Be careful about what you wish for.

 You didn't know you had been found. You didn't know that your pursuer had just managed to hide himself before you turned around, surprised by how easily you had found him out. You didn't know what your words did to his pride or how knowing that you could use a weapon made him reconsider his approach. Your father had never said anything about knowing how to handle weaponry. What else did you know? You spun with grace—yes, the grace of a dancer—but there was a precise strength as well. Your stance was that of a fighter. Did you know how to fight Pussycat? Oh yes, he remembered your mother's preferred pet name for you. Pussycat. It had potential. You didn't know that as you sprinted with considerable speed despite being held down by damp wool, a pair of vibrant blue eyes darkened with an unknown feeling as he reshaped his entire opinion about you for a second time.

As you lay in bed in a fitful sleep, you didn't know that somewhere else, a man, a most brilliant man, lay in his bed wondering what you truly looked like. Years prior, the paint you wore on your face concealed your appearance; now grime and exhaustion do the same. He had heard about your grandmother's beauty and how you resembled her, but somehow he wagered that you had suppressed her beauty tenfold. 

You didn't know what your defiance had done to your pursuer. A man with vibrant blue eyes who no longer considered you a quarry but instead now saw you as a worthy opponent.

A dangerous thing to be, his opponent.

It was a well-known fact that Sherlock Holmes was a formidable man, infamous for dragging all those who opposed him down to his feet. These next few days were going to be very entertaining. He smiled deviously as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

Whether you ended up on your knees at his feet or standing by his side depended entirely on just how smart you truly were. Not that it mattered either way. 

Sherlock Holmes always got what he wanted.

And Sherlock Holmes wanted you.

[avocado-writing]

BrooOOO I've been thinking about Roland Blum going to absolute TOWN on some pussy, like you're on your back and he's sitting up on his knees in the bed with your legs over his shoulders. He holds your hips up to his mouth by your ass, going full feral on your cunt--

You're sopping, and his beard is drenched as he slurps you to hell and back. He actually GROWLS into your pussy with pleasure using that gravely voice, practically purrs too and the vibrations from his throat radiate straight to your clit. The texture of his beard, his prominent nose, his switch from sucking you like candy to smashing his whole face up in there and shaking like a dog!!!! His head is tragically out of your reach, otherwise your hands would be buried and pulling on his gorgeous curls! He misses it too, but your wanton cries spur him on, he loves hearing you drunk on him and unrestrained, sobbing his name. You try to keep yourself grounded, digging your nails into his thighs, and what you can reach of his forearms as you hold on for dear life. It leaves marks, scratches he wears proudly on his soft flesh.

He can get a little mean, waxing poetic about what a little slut you are and slapping your clit to hear you shriek, when it's his turn to be in control. He did take moments to drag his tongue on your inner thighs, and left bite marks in his wake. Now, you're squirming in his grip as you're wound tighter and tighter, already having cum at least once, and you want more but your body simultaneously cries out and pulls away. "Such a gorgeous fuckin' pussy," he muses, "lookatcha, fuckin' tremblin' for me." He's pulled back from your cunt, watching as you clench around nothing at his words, before adding his fingers into your eager, sensitive hole once again. He uses the flat of his tongue on you again, demanding to know who this pussy belongs to (him, of course, in this moment at least-- only him).

It's when he starts fluttering his fingers side to side across your clit that you really need to be restrained, his other arm holding you against his chest as your muscles contract and your legs quiver. Roland watching with lust ("ahhhhh, fuck yes. There it is") as your pussy gushes and you cum with a wail-- but his ministrations don't slow, and you're squirting again and again, and he makes another lecherous groan as slick drenches his chin, flowing down your ass, his chest and drips along down his front.

"Theeere ya go sweetheart. Atta girl," he coos, seeing tears of overwhelming pleasure in your eyes. He finally slows the motion of his fingers, rubbing instead with the full flat of his hand, letting you ride out the waves and grinding against his palm. (Your cum has run all the way to his elbow, adding a lewd shine to the dark hair and budding crescent marks there.)

Your mind must've liquified, probably cummed out completely. Roland gently lets your bottom half down to rest into his lap, a leg on either side of him and his raging hard-on prominent against your ass (he came while eating you out already, his cum mixed with yours in the messy puddle beneath you). He rubs your stomach for a moment watching you. When your eyes meet you see the self-satisfied smile grin plastered on his dripping face. "You still with us, sweetheart? If I ate your soul right out your snatch, tough luck but I'll take it as a win."

You tell him to shut up, tugging him forward by his beard to shove your tongue in his mouth. He hums, maneuvering you fully onto the bed (and off to the side of the mess you've made). Roland gets a little caught up in sharing the taste of you, your fingers in his hair. His jaw and tongue are incredibly sore, but he likes the pain if he's honest. (Which he isn't.) The two of you lay together lazily then, basking in the afterglow.

Eventually you pat his shoulder, getting his attention: For the love of God, please get off of me and get me a towel. He barks out a laugh, giving your nipple a pinch (with another huffed laugh) before heading to the bathroom, ass fully in display to you (and yes, you do watch as he goes).

"Order up," he jokes, quickly producing warm wet washcloths and fluffy dry towels. He's rinsed his beard, attempted to slick back his hair.

You thank him, and the both of you start cleaning yourselves, lending a hand to the other if necessary. The whole time, Roland serenades you (more like talk-singing, but it counts) with some obscure song. You give up on cleaning and instead head to the shower, Roland following suit.

You shampoo his hair, massaging his scalp-- he gets hard again, and massages your sudsy breasts together as he kisses and sucks your neck. Eventually you drop to your knees and suck him. You then let him fuck your soapy tits, and he blows his load across your chest.

When you're done showering, you move to the couch, order takeout, and watch Cutthroat Kitchen til you both pass out.

I've never seen The Good Wife. (Maybe this is just about Michael??) I've been typing this for 3 hours. It's 1am. I didn't expect to write a whole fic in your inbox. The walls are beginning to spin. I hope you like it at least. If not I'm so sorry.

hey anon? I shouldn't have read this at work. all i could do was stand there, horny and shellshocked. you're a poet and an artist.

everything about this is perfect. when roland blum goes down, he goes down. he won't stop until he feels you fluttering around his tongue from multiple, strung-out orgasms. it's this ^ fic. it's utterly and precisely this fic.

i'm going mental for this lol

[performativezippers]

Hey theeere,

I read that you’re open for questions about writing advice and your advice in the past was always super helpful and I adore your stories, so I was wondering if I may ask you – in longer stories I always struggle to maintain the original vibe and keep character behavior consistent. Do you have any tips for that?

Thank you very much in advance ❤️

Great question! I think this is a really common thing to struggle with, so I encourage others to chime in too.

What works for me is some combination of the following:

--Ensure this is a really an idea for a longer story. Sometimes things go off the rails because it was actually a short idea (e.g. Lucy grappling with Kate's behavior after Cara), and then you have to invent a lot of out-of-character things to keep it going (Lucy keeps screaming at Kate at work), or angst (Kate almost dies), or shenanigans (Ernie and Lucy go on Adventures) that actually have nothing to do with the story you meant to be writing (Lucy processing being unlovable and shunted aside yet again). Those can be fun, but are they keeping you from finishing the story you meant to finish, or are they integral to that story?

--Is the original vibe the right vibe? If you mean to write a story in which Alex and Kara fight horribly about Kara liking Lena, but you decide to open with a sweet sister night (to show the good before it breaks), that opening scene is not going to fit the vibe of the rest of the fic. Which is okay, if you mean that! But if you mean to be writing a sweet sister fic, and accidentally write an angsty sister fic, then yeah the sweet opening is going to be off. It's not that the first chapter has to set the vibe for the rest, but that instead you should know going in what kind of vibe you want, and keep redirecting yourself that way.

--Reread your work. I always always start every writing session by rereading the last two chapters I wrote, and every 3-4 sessions I'll start the whole work from the beginning (less frequently with books which are, you know. Hella long). This keeps me locked into the vibe and voice because I'm continuing from where I left off, rather than starting up again. It also helps me find easter eggs to tie back in later, like I planned them! Which I usually don't because I'm not a planner.

I know a lot of people try to solve this problem with outlining, aka storyboarding, in which you list the goals and character motivations for each scene before you write any of them. This does not work for me because I'm not an outliner, but for books I do this after I've drafted it to help with my revisions, which I love! It's call reverse outlining and it's great. I find that it's too much work for me to do for fics, but of course everyone gets to do whatever they like!

I hope that helps! What else do you all do?

[missamyrisa2]

Oh my

Your latest tease lit a rather lovely fire in my belly.

Can you please write what it would be like to tickle you under a steamy shower?

I'm a terrible shower singer ~ maybe I think in my tummy it'll deter wayward tickles from entering my domain. But any warding of tickles will certainly be undone as you see my tickle outfit neatly placed over the bathroom countertop, arranged as if it was still being worn. The gap between my little shorts and cropped top reminds of the belly that would fill it ~ and your fingers start to twitch in anticipation~

I'm humming out old pop songs. I can't resist a little Heaven is a Place on Earth when I'm feeling so divine under the warm steam. Nor can I resist twirling in the shower like Belinda ~ I don't hear your entry, I wouldn't hear a dump truck plowing through the building next door. My tush wiggles comically, acting as though it has any volume ~ I twine my fingers in my long soaking hair, pulling it into pigtails and singing out the chorus ~ which becomes a chorus of helpless squeaking giggles when your fingers close on my sides~

I thrash, twisting back and forth in a new dance. And yet still try to belt it out "Theyyyy saYYAYAYY in Heheheheavven!!~" My legs quiver and falter as I make a step and try to grasp at the slippery tile of the shower. The steam billows and taunts around me, kissing my belly as it quakes with ticklish laughs and your slippery hands work to my hips and ribs. My hands spread on the wall, I lean into it taking my tickles as I find myself completely cornered. My booty bounces and taunts for its own tickles, and when your fingers tease those curves the room fills with silly bouncing laughs. I squeak and gasp and try once more to pull together my singing~ "Looohohovee comes fiiiirst!!" My body shivers, laughs building when those fingers work around and find both my armpits and chest buttons~ I gasp out and manage to twist myself around, facing you at last ~ my face a field of blushing ticklish sensation.

The water runs gently, the steam wafts between us. My eyes soften from attempted subterfuge as my hands reach for yours. I grasp your wrists and place them on my tummy. "We'll make heaven a place on earth~" I smile brightly and lean in to plant a peck on your cheek as those fingers go to work, giggling out at my own machinations ~ My bellybutton twitches madly, filling with water and your probing finger. My hips buck seductively. I'm equal parts giggles and gasps, my slender naked form writhing helplessly yet wanting so much more attention. Every whimper pleas for the overload to stop while desperately requesting more~ I throw my messy pile of hair back as your fingers work lower. A string of okay okay okay okay okays slips my trembling lips, a certain princess part betraying my enjoyment of this tickle attack~

The chorus of okays melts into a snickermoan of "ooohoo riight there right theeere!" when your fingers go exploring over my swelling royal part. I'm hysterically giggling now, babbling even, my body inexplicably finding the strength to stay upright as all sensation is being overloaded by that finger running along the deathspot of my most private regal ticklish area. How fortunate the shower has a tiny bench~ I back up in a dreamy steamy weakened state, slumping against the wall as you continue to tickle my princess part. I'm becoming so oversensitized the water droplets on my body set off twitching tickles. I dimly lift a leg, wiggling my toes. "Ohh pleeheheease please Mmmhh Unnnh the spotsssss I'm spots~ spotty spotterrrr" babbling, I beg you to tickle under my toes. When those fingers glide into my hyper erogenous tickle zone, my song begins again.

I sing to the heavens, cackling out in a language only understood by the gods of tickles, longing for that most tingly overwhelming nectar. My princess part throbs at maximum arousal, doused in the steam and water, edged along by your touch and hotwired into overdrive by the tickles under my toes. The slightest touches do it ~ nothing could hold me back once that giggle ball is rolling. I ticklegasm for you, sweetly and softly, nearly wordless as my mouth sits agape in coerced ticklish pleasure ~ squeaking softly into desperate silly giggles while my princess part makes its fireworks~

And how fortunate ~ we're right where we need to be for some cleaning with all these soft cloths and endless steam~ I may most definitely repay the favor as I collapse gigglemoaning into your arms~

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Aww this poor guy :((

I really don't think there is lol

Ahhh yup that school bus

OPE right that guy o.o

See 'cause it's not like a "well he's just started making attacks and killing people" but he already shot somebody lol

But yeah y'all have no clue where he is

Ohhh living there!! Ahhh okay :)

Aww poor O'Brien :((

But yeah you really do need to be a fire captain right now lol

As long as they can trust you

Oooh the talk!!

From promos I mean

OPE is that the way to start without o.o

All of themmm 😭😭🥰

Dang xD but yeah you did fail lol

The drama of thisss 👀👀

It feels like the end of an episode xD

A H CARLOS

Hi Carlos :DD!!

I figured he'd be in this episode :)) saw a promo picture and also just hoped but I was hoping again when they said APD lol

But yes there's a bunch of people out there right now <333

Y'all this speech 😭😭

Aww Owen :((

About wondering what could've happened if he knew that is

Okay I don't remember the specifics of this part bc I was more watching everyone than listening but xD

I can say that 😭😭 :'DD Nanteo <33!

And dang TK looks even more emotional than everyone else xdd idk if there's a specific reason, maybe just bc it's Owen but idk maybe there's not lol and that's just how he is

But yeah you guys have each other <33

You gotta be careful and do your best

AAH WHAT DID JUDD TEXT I DIDN'T SEE

I mean I'm assuming he texted idk I couldn't tell lol

Anyway xD

Hi Grace :)!!

UH OHHH

I bet that's a terrorism attack call 😬😬

Ooope yep probably

OOOPE YEP DEFINITELY O.O

That's a LOT of houses xdd 😳😬

:OO DD:

Okay so yeah y'all don't just stand there XDD

Yeah they're calling everyone in so GO xDD

Okay there we go lol

AAH Carlos :DD

Ahh yeah they were probably being watched

OPE bomb threat on the capital o.o so that's what it is

Uh ohhh 😬😬

Yeah they're probably luring them in but still xdd

Nahh Carlos knows all about wild goose chases lol

Going after them is kinda his thing xD

Oooh he's staying with him :D

Chillin :)) an interesting pair! I mean they're both cops but yk

Uh ohhh there it isss

Yeah let's hope it's three xd

I mean ik it probably won't be but I liked the line lol

Okay good everybody's out

Owen are you seriously in there xD

Okay good just in the like control room lol

Ooope uh ohh

Washed out of cub scouts?? Ohh bc he's not a survivalist lol

OPE

Be careful then o.o

Ahhh so we can't touch it

Wait huh? What did he see?

They didn't? Sooo is it fake or smth?

UGHHH OWENNN

XDD it's dramatic and fun though so whatever

"I really hate when he does this" SLFKGHDKJS TK XDD

Fair lol, so correct xD

Oope okay there's a building

Be careful y'all 😬😬

OWENNN

Be verrry careful

:o wait he built it in there?? Oh wait no we're still with O'Brien lol

UH OHHH OWENNN

:OOO his wife and kid!!!

OWENNNNN

Okay phew yeah it is a fake xdd

UH OH SHE'S SAYING BEHIND YOU

OHHHH NO CRAP

Okay so then it's probably a distraction right?

This ain't goooood 😬😬

OHHH NOO

Wait that's not him :o

I mean yeah that makes sense he would've been just at the capitol but xdd still lol I didn't think about it o.o

AAAHHH COME ON CARLOS WHERE ARE YOU

This guy looks nervous thoughhh lol

I mean fair but yk xD

O P E

O.O

DANG Carlos o.o

I mena that was an EPIC moment like how he was just standing there totally still but o.o

Was there like. another option xD

Idk maybe he's not dead but like he fell immediately lol and it looked like he was hit in the torso xD

Still though I am hoping he didn't die especially bc like he could explain but SLAYYYY GO OFF CARLOS

He looks so cool xD

OOPE yeah a decoy o.o

Huh

Why are we watching this?

OHHH WAIT IT'S THE GUY o.o

Ohhhh noo

Yeah and he looks nervous too xD but we know he's willing to kill

This is just a lot lol

AAAAHHHHHHHH OOOOOH NOO o.o

Theeere's the bomb o.o 😬😬😬😳

This ain't good xd

[twilightmalachite]

Christmas Live - Star Chart 1

Author: Akira

Characters: Chiaki, Kanata, Midori, Shinobu

Translator: 310mc

JP Proofer: Mika Enstars

EN Proofer: ryuseipuka

"I’ll give a present full of warmth to everyone shivering from the cold, by singing with my burning hot red voice! Fuhahahahaha…! ☆"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Park’s Live Stage

Chiaki: To everyone passing by! Merry Christmas! ☆

It’s almost time for the opening celebration of the StarFes performed by Yumenosaki Academy’s idols! Our performance, known as the “Eve’s Eve Live”, is about to begin!

Our performance is completely free to watch, so stop by whenever you like, no matter who you may be! We welcome you with open arms! ☆

We’re handing out warm drinks and other refreshments, too! Even gear to keep you warm from the cold! If you have any questions, please feel free to ask the Santa-sans at the venue!

By the way, I’m Morisawa Chiaki, from RYUSEITAI! I’m the red-colored Santa-san… The typical Red Santa-san!

I’ll give a present full of warmth to everyone shivering from the cold, by singing with my burning hot red voice! Fuhahahahaha…! ☆

Come on, Sengoku! You introduce yourself too! You can use mine as an example to work off of!

You’re always hiding yourself behind our backs, but you should put more effort into standing out in the crowd, as well!

Shinobu: Wha—Eeep! No—You lose if you stand out as a ninja, like, erm…!?

It’s the same with Santa-san! If he’s caught by an occupant in their home while delivering presents, he’ll be mistaken for a robber, so…!

Chiaki: Don’t run away! You’ve got this! Recall all your experience up until now! Haven’t you grown stronger since then!?

If anyone can do it, it’s you, Sengoku! I believe in you! ☆

Shinobu: U-Uuu~…? I-I am Sengoku Shinobu! I’m the yellow-colored Santa-san—Known as Yellow Santa-san~! Ermm, ermm…?

Chiaki: That’s perfect as is! Well fought! You’re such a good kid, Sengoku! Theeere, there, there~♪ (pat, pat, pat)

Yellow Santa will spread brilliance just like the illumination that paints the streets during the holy night! You can rest assured that each of you will get a whooole lot of sparkly radiance as a present from him! ☆

We appreciate your cheers! Thank you for the applause…☆

Kanata: ufufu. the [illuminations] are so [pretty], aren’t they~♪

it is like the [very bottom] of the [sea]~ the [deep-sea fish] are twinkling~♪ the [marine snow] is so fluffy~♪

Chiaki: Mm? It’s starting to snow! This isn’t good!

While it’s wonderful to have a white Christmas… There’s no roof over this stage, so we could slip if enough snow piles up.

Midori: Mm~ Judging by how the clouds are moving… We’ll be done with our live show by the time it starts to snow that heavily, I think…?

I’m way more worried about our guests; they look like they could catch a cold anytime now… Can’t we cancel the performance, or at least end it early…?

Chiaki: You’ve really got no enthusiasm, Takamine! Show some energy! You’ll feel warmer if you sing and dance as much as possible!

Ignite your engine! Our Christmas has only just begun!

Midori: Christmas hasn’t even started, though… You’re always, always in a rush with everything…

And you’re especially prone to getting sick right now, Shinkai-senpai, so please don’t push yourself, okay…?

Kanata: i will be okay~ i will simply [hold] shinobu in my arms. shinobu’s [body temperature] is high, after all~

he is like a [water-heating pad]~ warming up, warming up…♪

Shinobu: Wai—I cannot move like this! Please spare me, Shinkai-dono~!?

Chiaki: You’re free to mess about, but don’t get too rowdy now. The Eve’s Eve Live wasn’t originally a job for us…

So the stage is too narrow for five people to comfortably perform on.

Midori: Yeah, it is pretty cramped… I’m huge as it is, so I’m probably just getting in the way…?

Chiaki: Mm~… Nagumo isn’t here right now, as he said he had something to do, so there’s a bit of leeway at the moment.

But for performing on stage, three or four people is likely as far as we can go.

It’s because the unit that was scheduled to perform the Eve’s Eve Live at first was a duo, so the stage wasn’t set up to be too spacious.

Kanata: a duo… could it be, that person…? he takes the [day off] when the weather is [bad], so~

he is someone who loves [perfection], after all.[1]

Chiaki: Mm. That’s why I thought 2wink would be just the right people for this stage, but are those two doing alright?

If they’re in good enough shape to perform, I’d love to ask them to join the live show too, but…

They looked to be in the middle of an argument when we showed up, so maybe that won’t be possible. I’m from an entirely different unit, so while I’m aware it isn’t my place to be speaking on their behalf…

A Christmas that has kids with gloomy faces is the same as a Christmas tree without a star at the very top, y’know!

It just doesn’t feel complete at all…! They can shine so much brighter, I just know it!

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

This is referring to Shu.

[justiisms]

*something odd has happened where the normally punctual taka hasn't left his room all morning!! in fact, it sounds incredibly quiet in there, and if someone were to open the door they'll find a small mountain of blankets on top of the bed?! it's only at hearing the sudden noise that said mountain moves a little bit, taka's head popping out from within the covers! then he gets all embarrassed at being seen like this as he's trying to keep himself warm, the boy overly flustered as he sneaks back into his warm domain without uttering a single word!*

Phan also realized that she hasn't seen Kiyotaka at all in the morning, which was quite strange, indeed! "Is Taka still asleep...? No, he's not the type to accidentally oversleep... or maybe he's currently reading?" Curious, she decides to head to his room and check on him. Upon seeing the mountain of blankets on the bed, she gasps!! "Oh-!" Quickly, she gets even closer when she begins hearing the blanket ruffle, too. Then when she sees Kiyotaka's head pop out, she smiles and waves~

"Theeere you are! Good morning, Taka~! I was wondering why you weren't-!!" She blinks in surprise when suddenly retreats right back into his blanket den! That, and the fact he looked so flustered, couldn't help but make her laugh~! "Taka, come baaack! No need to feel embarrassed, sweetie, it's okay to wanna get all curled up and cozy, heh heh heh! I'd want you to be a toastytaka, after all! In fact, want me to bring your share of breakfast to you? I'll make you a nice hot coffee or tea to help warm you up even more, too!" And starts playfully patting him with her hands over the blankets!!

[dirk-rider]

Being a bigshot branch manager was more work than Jake expected when he began climbing the corporate ladder, and to say the day had been treating Jake well would be a falsehood.

Jake’s secretary, Dirk, had taken the day off, which was already a poor start. He tried to think of the positives though, such as how he’d start the day with a meeting over breakfast. He liked when Dirk scheduled them over meals, as the food gave him an excuse to speak less as his thoughts were still muddled by sleep.

Then Jake had requested a meeting over tea. He felt it was important to the atmosphere. And what’s a cup of tea without hors d'oeuvres? So he’d ordered a plate of sandwiches as well.

After that he was certainly a bit full, but not full enough to complain. Unfortunately for him, this meant he had little out for his proposed lunch. And sure, he could have ordered something light, but that might send the impression that he wanted to get away from this client as fast as possible. No, that wouldn’t do. So he ordered a plate of ribs.

The drive back home was tough, now full to nearly max capacity and kind nearly oozing melatonin, but he got through it by thinking about the fact that, once he was alone, he could rub at his gut and maybe get things to move on faster. And it wasn’t like he had any more meals planned for the day, Dirk certainly couldn’t cook.

Unfortunately for him, Dirk couldn’t cook.

As he stepped into the foyer, he heard Dirk call his name.

TT: Hey, Jake, you’re just in time.

TT: I’m in the kitchen, come join me?

Oh dear lord.

GT: Hello dirk! What have you been up to today?

The question was tentative, as Jake had an answer in mind which he was not a fan of for multiple reasons. And, upon joining Dirk in the kitchen, his answer was proven correct.

TT: Well, Jake, I feel like deductive reasoning could answer that question for you.

GT: Ah. Cooking?

TT: No shit, Sherlock. Check the spread.

In all honesty, the food didn’t look all too atrocious, though certainly nothing fancy. Centered on the table was a bowl of spaghetti, and the pasta seemed to have come out well. A bowl of tomato sauce rested beside it, as well as a bag of mixed cheeses. As Dirk pulled out a chair for Jake, Jake noticed that a few slices of… toast? were placed upon his plate as well, thankfully not burnt this time.

TT: Take a seat, man, food’s gettin cold.

GT: Well- dirk- this is very kind of you! But… why?

TT: What, can a bro not make another bro a plate of spaghetti? You’ve been workin’ hard, figured you might need some fuel.

GT: Well thats very thoughtful but you know i have spent all day eating- you scheduled the meetings yourself!

TT: Hm, did I? I don’t remember doing that. Doesn’t sound like me. C’mon, Jake, sit.

GT: Well dirk i have the physical evidence right here.

TT: What evidence? I don’t see jack, man.

GT: Dirk just *look* at this dangblasted… bouncing… bulge of a belly im sporting!

Jake huffed and patted his stomach.

TT: Oh man, you look sooo big. Big deal, you ARE big. Don’t look any fatter than you did this morning.

Jake blushed a bit.

GT: Thats kind of my point! You have been feeding me nonstop! Dont you think my gut could use a bit of a break???

TT: No, no I don’t. Now c’mon big boy, what do you want on your pasta?

Jake sighed, realizing he was too tired to continue arguing with someone who could bullshit his way through nearly every conflict he came across.

GT: …The marina smells rather good. As does the meat.

TT: Theeere we go. Start on the bread while I get the rest of your plate set up?

So Jake complied. He brought a slice of vaguely wet toast to his mouth and was pleasantly surprised by the flavor.

GT: Mm dirk whatch on thish? It feels- *gulp*- it feels… well a bit mushy if im honest. But it tastes wonderful!

TT: That’s the result of a shitton of butter. Melted faster than I would’ve liked, to explain the texture. But I’m glad it tastes alright.

Jake brought it back to his lips and quickly finished off the slice. He was going to reach for the second when Dirk put a hand to his and set a larger plate in front of Jake.

TT: Slow down on the bread, would you? You’re fillin’ up on unnecessary carbs before the big event.

GT: The entirety of this meal can be described as “unnecessary carbs” dirk. Ive already eaten my fair share for today!

TT: Yeah yeah whatever, quit opening your mouth if you’re not going to put something in it.

Jake rolled his eyes but once again complied, and he wasn’t displeased with the flavors. Sure, not a culinary masterpiece, but he could tell effort had been put into the meal. The effort became more obvious as a relatively large chunk of garlic entered his mouth and his brows furrowed as he swallowed it.

GT: Did you cut the garlic cloves yourself?

TT: Yeah, man, store was low on any actual spaghetti sauce so I made do with tomato paste and whatever else I could find that smelled Italian.

Jake smiled at that, and a giggle bubbled up and out of his pretty, plush lips. Dirk grinned.

TT: You think that’s funny?

GT: I do indeed. You really need some practice cooking!

TT: Well that was kind of the point of takin’ today off. I wanted more ways to take care of my princess.

Jake averted his eyes and smiled wider.

GT: You *did* put all day into this dish. Least i could do is eat it…

TT: It really is. Got my blood, sweat, tears, and various other fluids up in this bitch.

GT: Gosh dirk even your… you-know-what?

TT: Cum?

Jake nodded.

TT: Oh man, nah. I’ve been dangling precariously off the edge all damn day, Jake. Haven’t even hoisted myself up with a bit of touching. 

GT: What over?

TT: Your deductive reasoning skills have taken a sharp decline tonight, huh?

Jake jokingly punched Dirk in the arm.

GT: I would like you to say it.

TT: After that display of violence? No thank you. My thoughts are stayin’ locked up and private, maybe I’ll blue-ball YOU in the process.

GT: You know im a fan of blue genitalia.

Now Dirk was laughing.

TT: Fine, fine.

TT: I’d like it if you’d eat all of this, really reach capacity for me. 

TT: In my fantasies the meal would, ideally, be complimented by one of my drinks, but I get if you really are too full for that.

GT: I *am* feeling a bit parched…

TT: Well, shit, alright.

TT: Keep eating and I’ll grab you something.

Dirk got up to grab a drink for Jake and Jake continued eating. Maybe he was eating a bit faster than he should have been but he wanted this part over relatively quickly so he could get to the whole belly rubbing part faster.

The food was seeming better each bite he took, and after he grabbed a pinch of the cheese blend and sprinkled that over top, he decided that the meal was actually pretty good.

By the time Dirk was back Jake had finished about half of his plate.

TT: Okay, Jake. One bottle of Fanta front and goddamned center for your sensory enjoyment.

GT: Oh man i thought youd come back with just a can. You really think i can drink all that??

TT: With enough push? Yeah, man, definitely. You don’t have to finish it in one go, don’t worry-

Jake grabbed the bottle from Dirk’s hand and untwisted the cap, then brought it to his mouth and began, well, drinking would be an understatement. Jake was chugging down that bottle, greedy for the sensation and doubly so for Dirk’s praise.

About a third of the way in he was forced to call it quits, and as he parted from the bottle his panting was interrupted by a long, airy brruuu•UUo°･uurrrrph~!!

TT: Whoa.

GT: Hah- thank you dirk! That one felt. Whoo. That one felt good. I think it might have cleared up some space.

TT: Fuck, man, it sure as hell SOUNDED like it did. God, man, what am I going to do with you.

GT: Well you could start with a bit of care on the ol tum. Would you do that for me?

Dirk nodded more enthusiastically than he would’ve liked and put a hand on Jake’s stomach. It was much more notable how full he was when Dirk could actually feel the tightness in Jake’s midsection, even if beneath a good layer of fat.

GT: Alrighty then. Back to work!

Jake began eating with renewed vigor. His stomach now burbled idly under Dirk’s hands, fueled further by the occasional swig of orange substance. He finished his plate far faster than he had expected to, Dirk’s nonverbal encouragement making it much less of a chore to swallow.

When Dirk realized the plate was empty he fixed the issue, and the rest of the pasta now sat in front of Jake, save Dirk’s portion.

GT: Youre on top of it today! I might be too full to finish the rest of this though.

TT: Are you?

GT: No. 

GT: But you didn’t even take a second to contemplate whether i was or was not. You eager beaver already - *hic!* - loaded my plate!

TT: Not the only thing I’ll be loading tonight.

Jake ignored what Dirk had just implied by grabbing another forkful of pasta and shoving it into his mouth.

[davisexplainableart]

December 17, 2022; 8 Days Before Christmas:

Okay, hello theeere again. I would apologize for my voice, but I won’t because today, I found out why my voice sounds like thiiis.

So, eeearliier today, I was visited by my friend Amethyst. Sheee wanted to talk with me- about ideeeas on how she- could lose weiight. *sigh* (Yes, this is related to her whole "weight crisis" that I brought up last year) Sheee- s-said that sheee was lookiiing *phew* a bit too pudgyyy latelyy-...

I was busyyy- looking at my bushy- a-and feathery- beard in content as she walked in. It had already reeeeached my cleavage. I could barelyyy- see- my cleeeeavage from under the feathers and my shirt. So anyway, when Amethyst asked meee- for any ideeas, I said,

“I’m not reeeally sure. Why would you ask meeee about weiiight loss when I’m such a fan of chubbiiiiness?”

Rude response? Yeah, I guess you're riiight-

She responded with,

“Come on, Caroline! I know that being fat is so pleasurable to you and all, but could you at least try to help me out with my problem? I’m sure you’re thinking I look “gorgeous” like this, and that’s fine, but that's not at all how I feel!! I’d at least like some form of advice to get me out of-”

As sheee was speeeakiiing, I put down the miiirror I was holding- and when sheeee saw my slowly- changiiiing face, she stopped and looked at it. Sheeeee seeeeeemed- surprised and astonished, not just because this was her 1st time seeing me- in this transforming phase, but also because she had assumed that I- was makiiing this all up before then. After stariiing- for a couple seconds, she said,

“Oh my s-stars... Caroline... You really are changing...”

I said,

“Well whyyyy would I lieeee to you, Amethyst? If I was lyiiiing, I would be a much worse-”

Sheee then- interrupted meee with,

“A-And your voice... It sounds so... nasally like you s-said it was...”

“Oh yeah,” I saiiid, “you’re right, *chuckle* I guess my voice IS changiiing.”

I thanked Amethyst for making meeee- aware of my changing- voice-, and she left with a puzzled look on her face.

Upon discoveriiing my changing voice, I spent the rest of the dayyyy- examining how much progress my bodyyy- had made so far in its transformation. My head crests are still gettiiing longer, my eyes are continuiiiing to merge into my head, my skin’s still reddeniiiiing- *phew*, my hair’s still whiteniiing, my fingers have begun numbiiing, and myyy toes are starting- to merge too.

I noticed my tail continuing to grow, but I still wasn’t sure what I would do with it. I also discovered that my cleavage’s milk canals (AKA my mammary glands; yes I can produce milk, and yes it has to do with me being pregnant before, please don't question it right now) had fully closed off, and therefore I couldn’t produce milk. I triiied to make myyyself hornyyy earlier, but they didn’t seem to become sensitive at all. It also seeemed to make them feel- a slight bit heavier than usual.

Oh well, that doesn’t really matter, my cleavage is sure to shriiink awayyyy byyyy theee eeeend of thiiis... *chuckle*

================================================

0DE

[theoretical-thinker]

Chapter 5! :)

In case you want to read m story on tumblr, here are the links for Ch 1, 2, 3 and 4

The prompt´s in the end notes on AO3 and the chapter´s also under the cut

5) Festive Sign and Wooden Cabinet

Draco was still riding his high when they finally arrived in Sorcebury a few hours later. He´d packed a book for the ride but he hadn´t needed it. The whole time, he´d been fascinated by the way they were driving through the beautiful landscape. When he looked out of the window, it even felt a bit like he was flying on his broom! Minus the cold and the occasional unpleasantness of being exposed to the weather!

It. Was. Amazing.

Which he told Potter more than once, unable to contain his excitement and joy.

And Potter… smiled. He actually, genuinely smiled.

Huh, that was weird. And even weirder was his own reaction to Potter smiling. It started a small kind of… restlessness inside of him. The first time it happened he´d frowned, trying to work out what his body wanted to communicate to him – without success though. The next times he had just ignored it.

As they were making their way from the bus station to the hotel, it came to his mind again and he pondered about it. But after a few minutes he shrugged. Maybe it was his nervousness coming through, about them going into this mission with barely any ammunition. In any case it didn´t seem important.

He was honestly curious what their accommodation during their mission would look like, but when the small cottage-like house came into sight, Draco scowled. Oh, no…, it couldn´t be… right?

Unfortunately, the moment they stepped into the house, his suspicions were confirmed. And he felt offended.

“What in Salazar´s name is this?!”, he asked, disgusted by the sight that presented itself in front of him.

Potter only frowned, obviously confused. “Um… Malfoy? I believe that´s what we call a cabinet.”

“Don´t be dense, Potter, I´m not talking about the bloody cabinet. I´m talking about everything surrounding it!” He looked pointedly at the objects in question.

On top of the cabinet sat a small model village consisting of five buildings, in front of it garlands of dark green pine, brown pine cones, red leaves and warm white lights. Two artificial white trees stood on either side. A wooden sign was fixed to the wall in the centre of the space between the trees, light wooden letters reading `It's the most wonderful time of the year´.

Ugh.

“It´s all so… Christmassy.” Draco shuddered. It had been the same on the house´s front side decoration, hence his prior wariness.

“Yeah? So?”, Potter seemed totally lost.

“Why though?”, Draco whined.

“Well, why not? What the hell´s your problem, Malfoy?”

“What my problem is, Potter?”, he whipped around to face him, pointing accusingly to the cabinet. “It´s not even December yet!  I get that you can´t escape the Christmas hell after the first of December, but… now? Already??”

By now Potter, looked fairly amused.

“Malfoy, for a lot of people, the Christmas season pretty much begins the second Halloween´s over.”

Draco looked completely aghast. “For real?!”

At this point he could swear he saw a small smirk on Potter´s lips. The tosser.

“Yes, for real. Also, don´t be so dramatic. Even if that wasn´t the case, have you forgotten what today´s date is? It´s the 30th of November, so it really isn´t that unreasonable or uncommon to see Christmas decoration.”

Dammit, Potter was right. He had indeed forgotten that the first day of December was only a day away. Still.

“In my opinion all Christmas decoration is unreasonable, no matter what time of year. All of Christmas, really.”

And theeere was the infamous raised eyebrow again. He had almost missed it. Almost.

“Wait, so let me get this straight:”, Potter said, “you love snow, but you hate Christmas?!”

“How´s that so hard to understand?”, Draco replied, a bit defensive.

“Because it makes no sense! Christmas and snow are inevitably linked to each other!”

Draco snorted. “No, they´re most definitely not. It´s obvious that you being the Saviour has nothing to do with your wit. There can be Christmas without snow - what would you say to people living in warmer countries who celebrate Christmas? You can´t celebrate cause there isn´t any snow? And what about the months after New Year´s? Doesn’t it snow in January? February? Do you simply tell the snow ´Sorry, you made a mistake, it´s not Christmas anymore so how about you melt away´? This doesn’t make any sense now, does it?”

Potter pouted. “Smartass.”

Draco opened his mouth for a comeback, but before anything could leave his lips, he heard an amused, low voice behind him. “I guess you´re our new guests?”

Both he and Potter whipped surprised around to face the person standing there. It was an older lady with a friendly face. Her hair had a few grey strands and was bound into a loose knot. She smiled. “So? Are you?”, she asked, an expectant tone in her voice.

“O-oh yeah, we are!”, Potter jumped into action. Since he was the one with the most Muggle experience between the both of them, they had agreed he´d organise both their ride and their stay here. Even though he´d never admit it, especially not to Potter, he was immensely grateful for it, since he was sure he only would´ve made a fool out of himself if faced with the situation alone.

While Potter again took care of everything, Draco wandered around the room, noting the two other rooms and the staircase linked to the foyer, wrinkling his nose every time he saw another decor-abomination.

“Malfoy!”, Potter called out after a few minutes and he turned around. “Let´s go?”

“The younger generations and their pet names…”, the old lady said while shaking her head, but she still smiled kindly. “I suppose I´ll never get them.”

“What do you mean?”, Potter asked, frowning.

“Seeing that your room is booked for a ´Harry Potter´ you seem to be calling each other your respective surnames? It´s not often I see a couple doing that.”

Oh crap. He´d completely forgotten about that and according to Potter´s face, he hadn´t been the only one. If the old lady hadn´t watched them in that moment, he totally would´ve rubbed Potter his “easy” regarding their fake dating under his nose. As if abruptly flipping the switch from obvious dislike to seemingly in love would ever be easy.

As fast as he could, he came up with a plausible excuse. “Oh well, you see Mrs.- “, he suddenly realised he didn´t know her name yet. Or introduced himself. If his father was still alive, he´d be outraged at his lack of manners, though this kind of thought really didn´t keep him up at night anymore.

“You can call me Gertrud, dearest.”, she smiled, having guessed the reason for his sudden stop.

“Ah, yes, Gertrud. You see, when we first met each other, my Harry”, Merlin, that felt weird, “and I initially didn´t like each other that much and only called each other by our surnames. Of course, the moment we got to really know each other, the dislike and the surnames fell away quickly. But when we bicker, they unintentionally and unconsciously come back. What can I say? Old habits die hard.”

There. A lie mixed with the truth. He hoped it was believable enough.

According to Gertrud´s expression, Draco had succeeded, because her smile turned amused again.

“My name is Draco Malfoy by the way, in case my– boyfriend”, that felt even weirder, “didn´t already tell you.”

“Don´t worry, dearest, he did, but thank you nonetheless.”

When he glanced at Potter, he saw that the bastard was grinning at him, too. Typical, letting Draco make a fool out of himself while watching from a safe distance. He swore, if Gertrud wouldn´t be here right now, he´d–

Noticing his slightly murderous glance, Potter was quick to turn to Gertrud, too.

“Aaanyways, Gertrud. Thank you so much for your welcome! I´d say M-  um, Draco and I better get to our room, the journey was quite long and we´re a bit tired.”

“Oh, sure, dearest! There´s a folder with all the information you´ll need in your room, but in case you´ve got any other questions, I´m just a call away!” And with that, she swept out of the room.

“Well…”, Potter rubbed his neck, “I guess that wasn´t so bad.”

Draco only ´hmmpfed´ instead of answer, lifting his travel bag and walked past Potter. A few steps along, he turned around and looked at Potter expectantly.

“Well? You coming?”