#Women's Workout & Training Clothing

[laraactive]

Modest sportswear hoodie in Dubai: Staying Active and Stylish

Dubai is a bustling metropolis known for its modernity and diversity. As the city embraces various cultures and traditions, it's important to have sportswear options that cater to the needs of the local community. For those seeking modesty in their workout attire, there is a growing market for hijab-friendly sportswear and Islamic-inspired activewear. In this blog post, we'll explore some great options for modest sportswear hoodie in Dubai that allow you to stay active and stylish while respecting your cultural and religious beliefs.

Modest Sportswear Hoodies:

Modest sportswear hoodies are a versatile addition to any workout wardrobe. These hoodies offer coverage and comfort while allowing you to engage in various physical activities. Look for brands that design hoodies with longer lengths and relaxed fits to ensure modesty. They often come with features like thumbholes and adjustable hoods, providing both functionality and style. Don't forget to choose moisture-wicking materials to stay comfortable during intense workouts in Dubai's warm climate.

Hijab-Friendly Long Tops:

For hijab-wearing individuals, long tops are a great choice for workouts. Look for tops with extended lengths that provide coverage for the hips and thighs. Many sportswear brands now design tops with built-in hijab caps or hoods to ensure that your headscarf stays in place while you exercise. These tops are typically made from breathable and sweat-wicking fabrics, making them ideal for Dubai's weather.

Islamic Sportswear:

Islamic sportswear is a category that caters specifically to individuals who want to combine their faith with their active lifestyle. These garments are designed with modesty in mind, often featuring longer lengths, loose-fitting designs, and hijab-friendly features. You can find a variety of options, including full-length athletic abayas, modest swimsuits, and workout pants, all tailored to your specific needs.

Layering and Mix-Matching:

One of the keys to creating a hijab-friendly workout outfit in Dubai is to embrace layering and mix-matching. Layer a long, modest top with leggings or workout pants for extra coverage. For added comfort during cooler weather, it's a good idea to consider including a lightweight jacket or cardigan in your workout attire.. Mixing and matching different pieces can help you create a variety of workout outfits that meet your modesty requirements and suit the season.

Accessorize Thoughtfully:

Complete your modest sportswear look with accessories that enhance your comfort and style. Consider moisture-wicking headbands or sports caps to keep sweat at bay. Invest in breathable, moisture-absorbing socks and comfortable sports shoes designed for various workout activities.

Conclusion:

Staying active in Dubai while adhering to modest dress codes is entirely achievable with the wide range of modest sportswear hoodies and Islamic-inspired activewear available today. Embrace your faith, style, and fitness goals by choosing the right clothing that caters to your needs. Whether you're hitting the gym, practicing yoga, or enjoying outdoor activities, modest sportswear ensures you can stay active, comfortable, and stylish in Dubai's vibrant fitness scene with Lara Active LLC- Modest women’s workout clothing UAE. 

[snatchzcurvez6]

SnatchzCurvez

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[feeder86]

Train to Gain

“I want to get jacked!” Jay declared, standing in front of his new personal trainer with his chest puffed out.

Matt nodded, having heard the same thing many times from plenty of guys like Jay, in their early twenties. “Okay, so we’re aiming for muscle gains,” he clarified, making a note of it. “Is there a reason why you want to make this your focus?” he asked, seeing from Jay’s body that he already had a pretty good build that most guys would have been envious of.

Jay nodded. “I’ve just split up with a girl I’ve been with since high school,” he stated without a drop of remorse or sorrow. “I feel like I want to finally do something for myself. You know what I mean? I want to look good. Muscular. Lean.”

Matt nodded. So, just like all the other guys, this one believed that getting more muscle on him would help him score with the ladies. He didn’t need a PhD to crack that little mystery about the boy’s true intention. It was a tale as old as time itself. 

Being so muscular himself, guys like Jay seemed to gravitate towards Matt on an almost daily basis, knowing that he could deliver the results they wanted. They saw his statuesque physique in the gym and felt that working out with a guy as built as he was was akin to ordering that body type for themselves in a catalogue. But Matt was not convinced by this latest client. Jay was a pretty-looking boy, with large soulful eyes and a gentle innocence about him. He wouldn’t be single for long. Some girl would come along, snap him up, and this whole muscle workout craze would be a thing of the past for him.

Nevertheless, Matt settled down to a detailed conversation about what it would take, the commitment Jay would need to make and the amount of sessions he would arrange with him each week. It was obvious that Jay had all the enthusiasm for his goals, but little knowledge of how to actually get there. “We’ll take things slow to begin with,” he smiled. “Then we’ll see how we get on.”

Seeming pleased, Jay shook Matt’s hand and threw his workout bag over his shoulder to leave. Then, as Jay was walking out of the gym, Matt watched as the eyes of every woman in there drifted towards his cute, tight glutes in his fitted gym shorts. Matt chuckled, nodding knowingly. It may have been Jay’s first time being single in his adult life, but it wouldn’t take the pretty boy long to work out that he didn’t need any more muscle to get women. Three weeks, maximum, Matt predicted. There was no way Jay would be paying for his services for longer than that; not when he didn’t need to.

Matt was aware that he was in the minority when it came to enjoying those winter months. But as the holidays came and went, he jumped out of bed with a renewed spring in his step, knowing that the gym would be fit to bursting with chubby, overweight and under-exercised guys trying to make a fresh start for the New Year. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly it was that he loved about them so much: that doughy shape, the jiggle of fat as they strolled on the treadmills. Maybe it was the way their sweat made their tight gym clothes stick to their rounded bodies . Matt was both mesmerised and fascinated by it all at the same time. 

It was around this time of year that he had met his now ex-boyfriend who had been trying to lose a few pounds back then. He’d copped a lot of crap from his colleagues at the gym for dating someone so big, and he’d had to challenge them multiple times for their attitudes towards the match. So what if he was into bigger guys? Whose business was it who he dated? Certainly not theirs. Not that any of it mattered in the end. Nine months in and the whole relationship had fallen apart anyway. His heart broken, just as they had all been expecting,

“Alright! That was pretty good!” Matt marvelled a staggering twelve weeks later, as Jay successfully squatted his biggest weight yet. He slapped the guy on his shoulder and passed him his water. “You’re killing it!” he smiled encouragingly.

“But I don’t look any different yet,” Jay grumbled, repeating the same complaint that had surfaced again and again in their recent sessions. “Sure, I’m a little stronger, but not much.”

“We’re taking it slow, remember,” Matt stated calmly. “You were quite clear from the start that you wanted to add muscle the lean way. It just takes a little more time.”

“But what’s the alternative?” Jay asked.

“Proper bulking,” Matt replied. “You give your body all the calories it needs to grow. We discussed this in our first meeting, remember?” he explained, a little exasperated. “You were insistent. You wanted a lean muscle bulk.”

“I want to be bigger,” Jay shot back.

“If you go with the bulking option, you’d have to accept the fact that not all of the gains you make would be muscle,” Matt tried to clarify.

“But I saw this guy online…” Jay began, rambling yet again about some viral influencer who claimed to know it all about how to get ripped with ease.

Matt bit his tongue. He genuinely liked Jay, but he was fed up of trying to debunk all of the insane fitness myths clients came in with these days. He was only twenty seven, and yet he wondered how much longer he could stand to do this job when there was so much misinformation out there. “Look, let’s just try it,” he suggested forcefully, cutting Jay off mid sentence. “I’ll set you up with a bulking plan and we’ll see what happens. If you’re not happy after a couple of weeks, you can fire me and send all your money to those online fitness con artists instead,” he stated plainly.

Still not seeming overly convinced, Jay nodded. “Okay. We’ll try this your way…”

“So, have you got much planned for your week off?” Matt asked Jay a good few weeks later. He’d found that he didn’t struggle with small talk as much with Jay as he did some of his other clients. They seemed to share the same sense of humour and had successfully recommended more than one decent TV show to each other in the past.

“I’m going to a wedding,” Jay answered, sitting himself back ready to lift.

“A wedding, huh?” Matt asked, loading on the weights ready. “That’s a great place to meet girls,” he said, finding it bizarre that Jay was still single after all this time.

“Not a chance!” Jay chuckled, lifting his hands up to grab the bar. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”

“Whatever you say!” Matt chuckled back; his eyes catching sight of Jay’s stomach as the guy’s t-shirt rose, ready for the lift. He could tell that the bulking diet was well underway, with a padded thickness around Jay’s middle, bulging to the sides to form what many might consider the beginnings of love handles.

Jay lifted like never before. After one set he insisted that Matt make the bar even heavier again; grunting with the extreme effort it took.

“You did it!” Matt marvelled, finally setting the bar back minutes later. “I can’t get over how quickly you’re progressing now.”

Jay sat up, spreading his legs wide and owning the space he was in. It was a feeling Matt knew all too well: the sense of power and size after lifting more than ever before. “This bulking is really working, isn’t it?” Jay smiled.

“It is!” Jay nodded, trying to mask his surprise at just how much more noticeable Jay’s extra thickness was around his waist when he sat up like this. There was no way the guy was going to stick out the full bulking period; the boy seemed genetically predisposed to carry a tight little paunch at this size. Already Matt could sense the cut was on the horizon.

Once again, Matt’s predictions fell flat on their face. As more weeks went by, Jay was very quickly becoming one of Matt’s strongest clients. However, it was all coming at quite a cost to the guy’s naturally athletic physique. Built around a solid core, Jay’s chunky middle was rounded and significantly paunch-like in appearance, despite being somewhat muted by the large chest and muscular shoulders that had grown alongside it. If Jay had been going for that muscular V-shaped back, he had fallen far short of the mark. His stout tummy had swelled out his love handles to a size that could not be hidden by pretty much any of the t-shirts that he wore in the gym. Matt had even seen the guy out and about upon occasion, feeling shocked at just how thick and overfed he actually looked; especially with that meaty swagger he had about him, artificially pushing out his arms to increase his width.

“And, we’ll finish with twenty minutes on the treadmill,” Matt declared during their next session, waiting for the exhausted guy to sluggishly pick himself up off the weight machine.

“The treadmill?” Jay asked, as if Matt had been joking. “I’m not paying for you to watch me on the treadmill for twenty minutes,” he laughed.

“You do realise that we’re going to be putting a lot more cardio exercises into your routine from now on? We agreed to start cutting from next week, remember?”

Jay brushed him off, insisting that he could do another set on the machine he was currently on. The rest of the session continued in that manner until the time was depleted. Then a sweaty, beefy looking Jay simply lifted a protein shake to his mouth and began chugging.

“What’s in that thing?” Matt asked, noticing that it was far thicker than any of the recipes he had supplied to Jay. He took it from Jay’s limp hand and held it to his nose. “That’s so sweet!” he gasped, recoiling slightly. Swirling the remaining third in the bottle, Matt declared with absolute certainty that this was not part of the diet plan he had given Jay.

“I found the recipe online,” Jay shot back, snatching the shake back and draining it quickly. “I drink four of these daily. Your shake recipes were good, but I wasn’t packing on the muscle half as quickly as I am now.”

Matt winced. Jay had been heading in the wrong direction for weeks now; his muscle gains overshadowed by significant increases in fat. And Matt had been ignoring it all, pushing it to the back of his mind, denying it. “Have you got the recipe for me to look at?” he asked diplomatically.

Jay lazily held out his hand for Matt to pass him his cell phone from his bag. Then, after a couple of seconds, the webpage link came buzzing through to Matt.

“Um…” Matt mumbled, feeling his heart beating with worry. “Have you really been drinking these four times a day? Did you not think to check out the ingredients? All that sugar? Condensed milk?”

“I’m not an idiot!” Jay grumbled back, as Matt noticed the fat that was starting to build up under the handsome boy’s chin and into his cheeks. “These things promise results and they deliver. I’ve gained 25 lbs in the last two months alone!”

Matt took a step back, feeling that he had let Jay down more than any other client he had ever had. Yet, somewhere deep inside of him was a spark of attraction. Jay was starting to look genuinely fat. It was literally spreading across his entire body and had been doing so for weeks.  “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled guiltily. “I should have been more on top of your diet planner. This should never have happened.”

Jay seemed utterly perplexed by Matt’s remorse, but he agreed to pack up his stuff and head out to a local cafe for a more thorough debrief. They sat with two coffees at a small table near the front as Matt considered how best to insist that Jay quit the shakes as soon as possible.

Matt thought he had his speech all ready to go. He inhaled, ready to begin, when he suddenly noticed that Jay’s attention was elsewhere. A large, overweight guy had come in through the door, making Jay look across with interest. Matt followed his gaze and then cringed with regret, realising that the man was none other than his ex boyfriend, Chris. They had just made eye contact.

“I’m really sorry about this!” Matt blasted out, realising that his almost 400 lb ex was heading over to the table and there was nothing that he could do to stop him.

“Hello Matt,” the large bellied guy smiled. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded, not looking directly at him in the hopes that he would soon get the message and leave them be. “Nice to see you, Chris,” he lied.

“I gained a bit of weight recently,” Chris went on, patting his fat stomach. “I’d love to show you some time.”

“I’m actually with a client right now!” Matt hissed, losing patience. “When I said that things were over between us, I meant it.”

Chris looked down at them both, giving Jay in particular the most filthy of looks. Then he turned, deciding that the coffee house was no good after all and disappeared out of the door.

“Who was that?” Jay exclaimed the second the guy’s large form had disappeared beyond the windows. 

“My ex,” Matt sighed, feeling frustrated that they should bump into each other here; whilst he was with a client no less! “We broke up about eight months ago.”

“You? And HIM?” Jay asked in disbelief, making it hard for Matt to tell whether it was the fact that he dated guys that most surprised Jay, or the sheer size of that ex-boyfriend. Either way, it became the focus of a long line of questions that Matt was finding difficult to deflect.

“I’ve made a decision,” Jay finally declared as they at last got off the topic of Matt’s love life. “I want to keep the bulk going for another six weeks.”

“I would very strongly advise against that,” Matt replied immediately.

“Six more weeks!” Jay laughed, as if he was making the simplest of alterations to their training plan. “It’s nothing! You need to learn to relax, buddy!”

Matt sighed. Perhaps because he was still reeling from coming face to face with Chris again, he did not feel especially inclined to argue. Jay was a client after all, and his wishes had to be respected - even if he was making a choice that Matt knew would make it significantly harder for the guy to get back in shape afterwards.

Just as Matt had anticipated, the weight that poured onto Jay’s body over the coming weeks was nothing more than pure fat. He’d find himself staring at it, having never felt so conflicted in his life. He was attracted by fat on a guy’s body, yes. But Jay was also a client who was confused by all of the bad advice out there and had caught himself up in a pattern of weight gain that was bloating his previously toned body. The sight of it, Matt had to admit, was nothing short of wildly arousing.

“He’s one of yours isn’t he?” asked one of the other trainers as Jay walked in for his training session wearing a t-shirt that was significantly too tight for his bloated torso. The guy braced himself against the wall to stretch out his calves, not realising how much his shirt had ridden up in the process and exposing a good three inches of his new, overfed tummy pushing itself over the waistband.

“Great work, Matt,” sneered Harry, the other male trainer, giving him a sarcastic slow clap as the three of them all watched Jay from a good distance.

Matt wanted to explain how he hadn’t been to blame; how Jay had found bad advice online instead, and was continuing to bulk against his advice. However, there was a strange thrill in not saying anything at all; something that Matt could not explain, even if he tried. 

Next, Jay began squatting, spreading his chunky legs wide apart with the good posture that Matt had taught him, then lifting his body up and down. It was a simple move and not at all noteworthy but for the extreme tightness of the shorts he was wearing, pulling the waistband lower and lower at the back, revealing more and more of his butt crack with each dip; thanks in part to the similarly undersized underwear he had on underneath.

“Ugh!” laughed Harry.. “No one wants to see that!”

Matt looked around at the others in the gym. Jay was indeed getting looks of disapproval, and even disgust, for his scandalously tight clothing.

“You need to have a word,” the trainers all agreed. “He’s putting people off. It’s bad for business.”

Matt sighed. He knew what they were saying was right, but how could he even begin a conversation about it to a client who was paying him? Especially one he was starting to crush on in the most inappropriate of ways.

Despite Jay’s confidence on the weights, it was quite clear during that session that the guy wasn’t making as much progress with his lifting than he obviously thought he was. In fact, his lifting had peaked almost two months earlier and there had been minimal successes since then. What had changed was the amount of sweating Jay was doing; leaving the machines with a damp imprint of his overfed rear which Matt wiped down each time. But with the sweating, Jay’s clothing tightened around him even more. Matt didn’t need to see Jay on the scales, he was an expert on every part of his body, knowing exactly how it was altering because he could see it right there, before his very eyes. He had to breathe a little deeper when he felt the arousal getting too much for him. Jay’s butt was pure perfection; shaped by good genes and some decent early muscle gains, but now swelling and widening with the pounds and pounds of fat the guy was amassing.

Jay had been buzzing about his new apartment; finally allowing him to get out of parents’ place. It was going to make bulking a lot easier, he’d declared, making Matt feel uneasy about how much more extreme his client may take things.

“I’ve got boxes and boxes of stuff all over the place,” Jay complained. “I need a good sort out, really. It’s just so easy to dump it all in the closet and forget about it though.”

“That reminds me,” Matt jumped in, seeing an opening and seizing upon it. “I got an email the other day for a good discount on the online shop I use for clothes,” he began, having pondered over how best to approach the clothes issue for the entire hour of their session. “It can be quite hard to find stuff that fits right when you’re a bodybuilder.”

“Tell me about it!” nodded the chubby boy, not sensing the irony in his words in the slightest. “None of my clothes fit properly anymore.”

Matt nodded. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a good lead in to discuss Jay’s dissatisfaction with his clothing and how he shouldn’t really be feeling such tightness around his stomach when he was trying to pack on muscle. As it was, he could feel the eyes of the other trainers on the back of his head. The only task he had to complete was getting Jay out of those ridiculously tight gym clothes. “I use this brand,” he lied, showing Jay the webpage he had just got up on his cell phone. He knew that impressionable guys like Jay wanted to look like him; to have the same confidence and presence. If he recommended a clothes line to them, he was pretty certain they would take it. “With the progress you’ve been making, you could probably get away with the extra large, but the 2XL might suit your needs more if you’re still in the bulking phase. Fast delivery too.”

Jay nodded with interest and took every link that Matt sent him. 

“I’ve spoken to him about the clothes,” Matt nodded, seeing the faces of expectation from the other trainers as he went back after the session ended.

“I know it’s tough having to tell a client that they’re getting too heavy,” Harry nodded. “But when he’s spilling out of his clothes like that, enough is enough. It’s time to say something.”

Matt nodded, knowing that Harry was exactly right. But that wasn’t what he had done, was it? He’d sent Jay off believing that he was making ‘progress’ and that he needed to wear clothes suitable for bodybuilders. The reality was anything but. Jay was chubby and out of shape. He’d not done any cardio in… it must have been months! He was a client who kept Matt awake at night with his feelings of guilt. He was letting the guy down, and this latest stunt was his worst sin of all.

It came as no surprise when Jay continued to be obsessed with bulking, even after the third and fourth deadlines for cutting came and went. The small mercy was that Jay was at least dressed better in the gym. With his new clothes, he was starting to look like any other broad, fat guy. His pretty face was still getting him the odd glance from some of the women, but the fatter body underneath was more than enough to ensure that it never progressed into anything more.

“You’ll never guess what I managed to get tickets for!” Jay blasted one Wednesday evening as he came in for his session.

“No way?” Matt grinned, knowing exactly where Jay was going with this. “You got them? But the concert has been sold out for months!”

“They were giving away tickets on the radio. I phoned up, answered some trivia questions live on air with someone else and… they’re mine!” he grinned, clearly delighted with himself.

“Congratulations!” Matt beamed. “I’m so jealous! You’re going to have such a great time!”

“No… WE’RE going to have such a great time,” Jay corrected him. “They asked me on the radio show who I wanted to take with me, and I told them your name. You’re the only person I know who is as obsessed with them as I am. No one else would appreciate it like you would.”

Matt’s initial reaction was to decline. There were many clients who tried to socialise outside of these sessions, but it was almost always unprofessional to do so. However, he had also desperately wanted to see this band since he was eight years old. Plus, he and Jay did genuinely seem to get on pretty well.”

“Can I give you some money for the ticket then?” he asked.

“No, I got them for free,” Jay shot back, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll drive us then,” Matt tried to compromise, knowing that the concert was a good couple of hours away. “I know where your new place is. I can pick you up at about 4pm on Saturday afternoon?”

Jay nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation. Then, for the rest of the week, Matt was telling all of his clients about the concert and how excited he was. He was amazed that not a single person had heard of the band or even recognised any of the tracks when he played a couple of samples for them on his cell phone. ‘What the hell was wrong with people?’ he thought to himself, highlighting in his mind just how much better he clicked with Jay than anyone else he worked with.

That Saturday, Matt didn’t really know who he was trying to impress as he slipped on his most expensive shirt and left the last three buttons undone to expose part of his strapping chest. He turned up at Jay’s building, expecting to head straight off, but was instead buzzed inside.

“Sorry!” Jay spluttered, opening the door to him, covered with only a small towel around his waist, fresh from the shower. “I had a big lunch and fell asleep! I only woke up ten minutes ago.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matt nodded, trying to keep his eyes fixed on Jay’s face and not look down to explore his client’s beautifully chubby proportions. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Jay trotted back into his bedroom; his jiggly love handles bouncing with the quick pace he was going at. Matt simply took a deep breath and tried to control the arousal that he felt. He looked around the apartment, coming to one very obvious conclusion: This was the home of a fat guy. It was obvious; from the small armies of empty beer cans, to the carnage of emptied take out containers and pizza boxes. Discarded clothes dotted the space and Matt found himself meandering into the kitchen; his curiosity getting the better of him. He opened the refrigerator and peeked in all of the cupboards as quietly as he possibly could. What he found was far worse than he ever would have imagined: cakes, candy, cookies and several containers of those disastrous protein shakes… Jay had the lot, and then some. The guy was eating like a pig and putting on weight at a frankly alarming rate. Matt tried to breathe deeply again, but this time, the blood rushing towards his groin seemed determined to give him a full on erection.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Jay smiled moments later, coming out in a shirt that was far too small for his stout little gut. He opened the refrigerator and downed one of his shakes, as was his usual routine at this time. Once again, Matt had to look away. Then, as the last of it drained, Jay lifted his arms and pumped his biceps, now covered in a good layer of pure fat.

The conversation flowed well in the car as the pair listened to a few of the band’s old albums and talked at length about their shared interests.

“If we’ve still got twenty minutes before we need to go in, I’m going to find some food,” Jay declared once they had parked up. He walked slightly ahead as Matt tried to avert his eyes away from the guy’s wide, overfed glutes, barely contained in his overly tight pants. “I absolutely love bulking,” he declared a few minutes later, holding a giant burger in both hands and raising it part way to his mouth. Then, like a genuine glutton, he dropped his head over it and began feasting with his large shoulders hunched forwards.

Matt genuinely did try to enjoy the concert, but he was conscious of trying to hold back an erection the entire time. He wondered why his brain had to be wired up this way. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the music without getting turned on by the significantly chubby guy he had come here with? He’d had to sit for significant periods of the concert with his hands resting over his crotch as Jay danced beside him, arms up in the air and his rounded tummy popping out. It was so humid in there, making Jay glow with a beautiful fat-boy sweat and ensuring that his clothes plastered themselves to his thick body even more than they already were doing.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Jay smiled the moment the lights came up. “How would you like to go backstage?”

Matt couldn’t believe it as he was shaking hands with his idols and chatting away with other fans backstage only minutes later. It truly was an extraordinary night.

“So, how do you guys know each other?” the lead singer asked as he came up to them both at the bar.

“Matt’s my personal trainer,” Jay answered, downing his beer into his bloated belly.

“I can see you’ve got your work cut out for you,” the singer whispered to Matt, tapping him on his strong back in sympathy.

“I’m in the best shape of my life,” Matt went on, clearly a little tipsy. He put his beer down and reached into his tight pocket to pull out his cell phone. “This is me, before I started training,” he declared, passing the singer a picture of him from just under eleven months ago: slim, handsome, athletic.

“And this is you… ‘before’ you started training?” the guy asked, ensuring that he wasn’t misunderstanding.

Jay nodded enthusiastically, raising his chubby arms to flex and simultaneously letting his chubby belly fall out for the umpteenth time that evening.

“Right,” the singer nodded, confused and surprised; possibly wondering if Jay was making some sort of joke. He slapped Matt on the back once more, then headed off to speak to some others.

When Jay asked to stop off for more food on the way back, Matt didn’t feel that he really had the right to refuse him after the night they had had together. However, it was yet another torturous exercise, having to sit next to Jay as he was gorging his fat body on more fries and burgers in the passenger seat. The sounds of his greedy chewing and swallowing were turning on an already stimulated sex drive to even greater extremes.

“I thought he might have been flirting with you,” Jay explained as they discussed their encounter with the lead singer. “The way he kept on tapping you on the back like that.”

“That wasn’t what that was about,”  Matt answered simply as he tried to control the boner he was getting, listening to Jay sucking air as he reached the end of his gigantic milkshake.

“You must have people flirting with you all the time, the shape you’re in,” Jay continued, stuffing the last of the fries into his mouth.

Matt took a breath in, wondering how to answer something like that. The answer was yes; he certainly did get a lot of attention from both guys and girls. But, as was being made strikingly clear to him that evening, the types of people he found attractive himself were often quite far from what most would expect.

“You don’t talk much about this sort of stuff, do you?” Jay asked him next after a pause.

“Neither do you,” Matt shot back.

“I’m just out of a long term relationship,” Jay replied grandly.

“Over a year ago!” Matt laughed. “In that case, I can use the same excuse.”

“You mean that huge guy we met in the coffee house that time? You were really into him?”

“I was in love with him, yes,” Matt replied, feeling that the conversation was getting a little too close to the bone now.

“How did he get that big? Was he always fat? Or did he just put on weight as an adult?” Jay pressed on obliviously.

“Combination of both, I expect,” Matt shrugged, trying to think of how to shift the conversation away from his ex.

“Do you think I could ever get as big as he is?” Jay asked.

Matt looked across at Jay in confusion. “Chris wasn’t a weight lifter, y’know?” he stated plainly. “He was probably as weak as a kitten. He was just… very overweight.”

“I just remember him being large,” Jay shrugged. “Guys like that always make me feel a little jealous.”

“There aren’t many people who would be jealous of Chris’ body type,” Matt chuckled, assuming that Jay was making fun.

“I think, if I kept up my protein shakes, I’d have a chance at getting to his sort of size,” Jay pondered aloud.

“I have no doubt that you would,” Matt nodded. “But it wouldn’t be lean muscle, I can promise you that.”

“Do you think it would suit me?” Jay asked playfully back.

Now Matt felt entirely on the backfoot. There was no way to answer the question without incriminating himself somehow. “I guess so,” he mumbled vaguely.

“So, do you think I should give up weight lifting then?” the guy immediately replied..

“I didn’t say that,” Matt countered.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. I’ve had a lot more success gaining weight and getting big in other ways, rather than muscle. Maybe I should just focus on that?”

“You know exactly what I’d say to that. I’m a personal trainer!” Matt reminded him. “Of course you’re not supposed to give up weight training and just let yourself get fat.”

“You can be such a square sometimes,” Jay laughed. “You’re so caught up with your diet plans, your nutrition goals and research papers on exercise schedules. You forget that most people don’t care about any of that stuff. It’s all about feeling good in your own body.”

The last fifteen minutes of the journey went by a little smoother, with the conversation naturally evolving into something lighter.

“Want to come in and grab those recipe books you lent me?” Jay asked as they parked up outside his building.

Thinking about another of his clients, Matt nodded keenly. It was more than obvious that Jay had little interest in any of the lean meals in them, so why not pass them on? He followed the guy up the stairs, allowing his brain to fantasise about taking the chubby guy straight into his bedroom. Now that he knew he would be home in twenty minutes and able to release all the pent-up sexual frustration from his evening with Jay, he somehow felt more able to embrace it; gazing with lust at those giant glutes, like round globes of fat, pressed tightly into Jay’s pants as he walked up the stairs ahead of him.

“They’ll be in my closet somewhere,” Jay explained, leading Matt into his bedroom. Inside here, the mess of take out containers continued, making it clear that Jay did just as much of his eating in bed, as he did anywhere else in the apartment. He reached over a pile of boxes and leaned into this closet, presenting Matt with a full view of his wide rear. Matt simply stared at it, swooning.

Jay had to lean in more and more, too lazy to move the boxed out of the way, and grunting from the effort. Matt told him not to worry; that he could get them some other time, but still Jay persevered, leaning even more of his weight onto the boxes at the front. Then, in a split second, they gave way underneath him, sending Jay falling head first into the closet, his legs up in the air.

Matt grabbed at him in a swift rescue, lifting him up and out by pulling him by his waistband and trying to reach his arm in to hold Jay just above his waist. He was a very heavy boy indeed, and not easy to shift, but eventually he came, looking significantly worse for wear. The most stressed buttons on his shirt had popped clean off and his pants had ripped as Matt had tried to pull him up from behind.

“Sorry about that,” Matt mumbled, seeing what a state Jay now looked in his torn clothes. He’d had to pull him at a strange angle to get him back upright and, although he hoped it wasn’t the case, there was a possibility that Jay might have felt the erection in his pants as he was put back on his feet.

Jay flattened his hair and shuffled over to his mirror. His fingers explored the ripped buttons and torn material. There was his little fat belly popping out like never before; his significant fat gains never looking more obvious. The hallmarks of actual obesity starting to shine through.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asked, wondering why Jay was so stunned; his nervousness increasing by the second.

“If I asked you to stay tonight, would you?” Jay asked simply.

“Why do you want me to stay?” Matt asked. “Do you think you’ve hurt yourself?”

Jay did not answer, but simply unbuttoned only the remaining buttons of his shirt and let the material fall to the floor. “Stay,” he repeated, letting Matt’s gaze fall in its entirety upon his bloated, fattened body. “I can tell that you’d like to.”

Matt allowed himself to enjoy the sight. His fingers twitched at his side, desperate to explore and touch. “Do you mean that?” he asked, no longer hiding his interest.

Jay nodded, grabbing a wedge of his own fat. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only person who gets a boner over this stuff.”

Immediately, Matt pulled Jay into a deeply passionate kiss. Their hands began to explore each other and they soon fell, entirely naked onto the unmade bed. Finally, the fizzing sexual tension that had been torturing Matt all night was set free; the fireworks still to come.

Matt woke the next morning as the light began pouring in through Jay’s window. He turned, seeing the bloated boy still resting deeply. Despite his good looks, this wasn’t the sort of thing that Matt ever did. He could count on a single hand how many guys he had slept with in the past, and he could explain how each one of them had eventually ended up breaking his heart. 

Jay stirred as Matt made an attempt to get out of bed. “Morning,” he called out. “What a wild night, huh?”

Matt smiled. “Pretty wild, yeah!” he nodded.

“Did I do it okay?” Jay asked sweetly. “I’ve never tried to give a blow job before.”

“You did great!” Matt nodded. “Amazing, in fact,” he added, remembering how quickly they had both climaxed last night. He’d worked on Jay first and then the sweet guy worked his mouth on Matt until he came in less than a minute. 

“Could you go and get me my shake out of the refrigerator?” Jay asked next, sitting up. “I forgot to have my last one when we got back yesterday, so I’ll have to make up for it this morning. In fact, bring me two,” he reconsidered. “I’ll get it down now.”

Matt hesitated for a moment. He knew that, officially, as Jay’s trainer, he wasn't supposed to approve of these shakes. Still, he was in Jay’s apartment, having just spent the night, so he could hardly start lecturing him now.

Still in a state of undress, Matt slipped out of the room and tiptoed over the mess that was littering the living space. He opened the fridge and felt a pang of arousal as he remembered just how many Jay had prepared for himself.

“Thanks,” Jay smiled, getting back from the bathroom as Matt returned. “I can still feel that burger from last night,” he chuckled, rubbing the shelf of stomach fat, before taking a deep deep breath chugging one of the shakes.

Matt’s penis, which hadn’t been flaccid since the moment he woke up next to Jay, began to pump itself harder upon watching Jay drink. He found it embarrassing how quickly his arousal responded to stuff like this and he moved his hand to cover it up; not wanting Jay to see and realise what a freak he was. However, as he looked at the bedsheets, he could see that the same thing was happening to Jay as well, with his own hardness pushing the material upwards, throbbing up and down like a heartbeat.

Taking himself off to the bathroom, Matt calmed himself down. He was so into Jay, he couldn’t ruin it, like last time. When he returned, both shakes were emptied and Jay was up, checking his body out in the mirror; that old jock physique of his destroyed and replaced with the chubby, overfed form there was today. Gone was the youthful pertness of his glutes, now so wide and juicy. All the added fat had swollen his chest up so considerably, with his new, pointed nipples looking alert and sharp as they started to droop a little onto the broad, shockingly ball-like stomach that completely dominated the boy’s appearance.

Matt went over and kissed the chub sweetly, hoping that Jay wouldn’t feel differently now the morning had arrived. Afterwards, he took the guy’s hand and then gently led him back to bed; making love to him slowly and passionately this time; wanting to show Jay just how much he could adore and cherish him, if he would only give him the chance.

When Jay turned up for their training session the next day, there was an air of mischief about him. The pair of them were chuckling and smiling, knowing exactly what they had got up to at the weekend and excited to be in each other’s company again. Now when Matt had to touch him, supporting his arms in a certain way, or correcting his posture, it sent waves of pleasure through his entire body. If he tried to get tough with Jay to get him to build up a sweat, the guy would come back with something flirtatious or rude, making Matt laugh.

“What time do you finish tonight?” Jay asked after a particularly arousing session where Jay had actually done very little indeed.

“Ten,” Matt replied, wincing at how late it was going to be.

“That’s okay,” Jay smiled excitedly. “Want to stay over again?”

Matt looked around, trying to hold himself back from wanting to kiss Jay right there and then; the cutest, chubbiest guy currently at the gym that moment. He knew how unprofessional it was to be dating his client. In some ways, it was like playing with fire; both terrifying and thrilling. “Want me to bring anything over?” he asked politely, knowing how low Jay was getting on supplies like lubricant and condoms after the weekend.

“You could pick me up some doughnuts,” Jay happily agreed.

“Oh, right. Okay,” Matt mumbled in surprise. That hadn’t been what he had meant at all. “Any particular kind?” he offered, not wanting to spoil the mood by declining.

“Just the twelve pack that you can get at the late night convenience place at the end of my street,” Jay answered him, clearly wanting to kiss him goodbye, but knowing that he couldn’t here.

Slapping the twelve pack of doughnuts on the counter a while later, Matt couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Here he was getting a spark of arousal at buying all this sugar and fat for his chubby lover. What would people say if they knew? He strolled over to Jay’s place and was buzzed in, finding the apartment door open as he made it up the stairs.

Seeing his chubby boy sprawled out on the couch, Matt took off his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind him before he marched straight over to kiss his new lover. Still dressed in his gym clothes, Jay’s stomach was falling out of his t-shirt as he twisted his head for the kiss. Two more empty flasks of shake sat on the floor beside the couch, alongside another pizza box that Jay must have picked up right after his workout.

Matt had slipped his hand onto Jay’s tummy as he went back for another kiss. How could he tell him off for his bad diet when he looked so adorable right now?

“Did you get my doughnuts?” Jay asked.

Matt nodded, getting up to collect them and feeling surprised at how eagerly Jay took them from him.

“Amazing! You got the cream filled ones!” Jay cheered, ripping the box open and pushing a doughnut straight in his mouth.

Matt hadn’t realised that there were different types, having just bought the first pack he’d found in the store, but he was pleased that it was giving Jay so much pleasure. He gazed with adoration as he ate, feeling himself falling hard for the guy. He sat there, on the floor, below the couch, rubbing Jay’s leg, observing it all. Doughnut number 5, 6 and 7 disappeared. Afterwards, Matt slipped in beside him, kissing his head from behind and holding the overfed boy tenderly. Whilst he couldn’t wait to sleep with Jay again, these tender moments were something he never wanted to rush.

“Did anyone notice that we were flirting at the gym? Jay asked as they lay tenderly together later on. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“That’s not something I want you to worry about,” Matt whispered into his ear. “I can handle any fallout if it comes to that.”

“I’ve actually wanted to quit weight training for quite some time. I just didn’t know how to tell you properly. Then our little relationship wouldn’t be so much of an issue.”

“So, we’re in a relationship, huh?” Matt teased, beaming with pride and hugging his boyfriend tightly from behind. “I don’t want you to give it up just for me, though,” he added regretfully.

“You’re the only reason I stuck it out so long,” Jay chuckled. “The truth is, I’m getting a lot more of a buzz out of developing my mass in ways that aren’t strength training related.”

Matt lifted his head as he lay in bed and looked down at the fat filled stomach on Jay; his hardness immediately throbbed into the guy’s doughy glutes. He wished he could control it; still wanting to conceal the fact that he found the idea of Jay becoming even more overweight so wildly erotic. He realised that as much as he would try to reason with Jay about his overeating and general laziness, his dick would always be there, trying to undermine his words of caution.

Although Jay didn’t acknowledge it with his words, he reached across for yet another doughnut, even though he had previously said he was stuffed. Was that for Matt’s benefit? Was he doing it to turn him on? Perhaps it was yet another unintended error of Matt’s that was dragging Jay even further down this crazy rabbit hole.

Jay’s gains began to speed up quite dramatically within the first six months of their relationship; Matt’s guilt increasing with every pound. There were times when he should have stepped in to stop Jay pushing his appetite too hard. When he discovered Jay buying in clothes for himself that were far too large, he could have asked why. He knew so much about nutrition and what it all was doing to Jay’s body, bloating it more and more beyond recognition. He’d crossed 300lbs. That should have been a moment for them both to take stock and reevaluate things; but the arousal of it all; the way Jay seemed to not care in the slightest about how people were seeing him these days; that confidence; the love that Matt felt for him. It all culminated to ensure the personal trainer kept quiet and allowed it to continue.

Jay’s body was stunning. There wasn’t a single spot where the fat hadn’t done its work, softening and swelling him up. With the lack of weight training, Jay’s chest had succumbed to the blubber, now filling up under his armpits and inflating his arms. All the while, his gut and wide butt quietly continued to grow ever more; becoming more extreme with each passing day. 

Matt couldn’t say not to Jay on his birthday. He’d asked him again and again what he wanted to do for it: a day trip, a weekend hotel stay, any gift he wanted. But all Jay had insisted on was a take-out meal in front of the TV.

“This ice cream is definitely the best,” Jay smiled, scooping out from the tub with his spoon. “I can’t believe you found some!”

“Well, you’re worth it,” Matt smiled. “I even found some of those special flavour doughnuts that you tried a few months ago. So you’ve got something to enjoy tomorrow as well.”

“Tomorrow?” Jay chuckled sceptically. “I’ll be having those bad boys tonight! It is my birthday after all!”

Matt laughed and nodded. There was no arguing with that logic.

“In fact,” Jay continued. “I’d like you to be the one to feed them to me.”

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Matt pretended to spill his glass of water and made a fuss, grabbing a towel from the kitchen.

“Why do you always do that?” Jay asked, obviously downbeat. “You’ve got to know that I love the idea of you feeding me. We both clearly get off on how fat I’m getting. Everyone thinks you’re a feeder now. They saw you with your ex; they’ve seen me getting over 350lbs. You’ve heard them whispering it behind your back. So why won’t you ever feed me?”

Matt tried to brush the comments off. It wasn’t the right time; not on Jay’s birthday. However, his refusal to answer only seemed to make things worse. “Okay,” he finally surrendered. “I’m not being coy,” he admitted. “I… I just…” he stumbled. “It was when I was dating Chris.”

“The four hundred pound guy you were with before me?” Jay asked, with only a mild hint of jealousy.

“Chris and I didn’t meet at a club like I told everyone. We actually met on a kink website for feeders and gainers.” 

“How did I not know this?” Jay laughed, realising that his shy boyfriend had been holding out on him the entire time. “So you used to feed Chris to make him gain weight?”

Matt nodded. “It was great. It felt amazing. I fell ridiculously in love with the guy. He put on about 40lbs in the time we were together.”

“You dark horse!” Jay joked, barely containing his delight.

“But it just wrecked things in the end. We both wanted him bigger and fatter. We spoke about it endlessly. But when Chris was in a mood with me for something, he used to blame only me for making him fat. He said it was all my fault he was so unhappy. I spent so much of my time trying to make him smile and the second something pissed him off, he’d throw it all back in my face.”

“That’s not very nice,” Jay agreed, pleased to finally learn how Matt’s previous relationship had ended.

“Then there was one day when Chris’ car broke down. He came over in such a bad mood and started taking it all out on me. He ended up getting drunk and heading out with his friends. He made out to them all that I was fattening him secretly. He even messaged my parents to say the same thing.”

“Shit!” Jay cringed for him, now realising why Matt’s parents had never been especially warm with him.

“Chris apologised, of course. But it was too late. Fake news like that travels like wildfire. Even though I knew I was always going to be attracted to bigger guys, I always promised myself, I wouldn’t ever get caught up in a situation like that again. Not if it risked making someone as special as you so unhappy.”

Jay nodded, completely understanding. “It makes sense,” he nodded in agreement. “But you’re not to blame for how I’m turning out. I’m not Chris, and I never have been.”

“I get that, but..” Matt tried to counter.

“No, I mean it. I’ve wanted to be a fat boy for as long as I can remember. I felt so ashamed about it. I thought a muscle gain might quench that thirst, but it didn’t. There is no part of me that is doing this just for your pleasure,” he stated sincerely. “So stop with the guilt.”

Matt nodded, feeling that he had been thoroughly put in his place. This wasn’t all about him. This was Jay’s journey.

“But I think you also know how huge I want to get. I know you’ve spotted some of the clothes I’ve been buying recently,” Jay smiled.

“Yeah, those sweatpants you bought the other day…” Matt nodded knowingly. “They were something else!”

Jay beamed with pride. “Aren’t they just!” he chuckled. “So why don’t you tell me, seriously,” he insisted. “How do you really feel about me getting so fat that I could actually wear pants like that?”

Matt considered his answer, knowing how upfront and honest they were both trying to be that evening. “Excited,” he replied simply. “Really turned on by it.”

“So, would you be willing to help me with getting there?” Jay asked.

Matt knew what Jay was asking of him and he sighed at the hard choice he was having to make. “I really want to,” he admitted, rubbing Jay’s rounded gut and admiring the tight softness. “It’s been so difficult trying to hold myself back sometimes.”

“Then stop,” Jay shrugged. “You know that I’m doing this, with or without your help.”

The two men looked at each other with true honesty in their eyes. “Okay,” Matt smiled at last. “Okay, I’ll.. try.”

Jay beamed brightly and slouched his fat body into the tortured couch, placing his limp hands at his side and opening his mouth, waiting. “No time like the present. It is my birthday, after all!”

Matt, who had not been anticipating such an immediate start, fumbled slightly, not knowing what to do as he picked up a doughnut from the table. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked nervously.

Jay nodded, raising his eyebrows with excitement, but did not close his mouth as the doughnut was dangled so wonderfully close to his face.

With the doughnut in his hand, Matt pressed it into Jay’s greedy mouth. The boy moaned in appreciation and took as large a bite as he could. The sound was instantly arousing. Already he felt the sugar uncomfortably sticking to his fingers. By the time the third bite came along, he knew the remaining piece was too big, but pushed it into Jay’s mouth anyway; making the fat boy’s cheeks swell with fattening dough and sugar. Yet, still the glutton gorged, sucking the sugar off Matt’s fingers as soon as he possibly could. This was hot!

Jay’s hand reached towards the hunk’s crotch, feeling the arousal his part in the feeding had given him. Then he smirked gleefully. There was no hiding anything now as they both undressed entirely. “Feed me another,” he demanded.

Matt did as he was told, picking up more confidence with each fresh doughnut he pushed into the horny boy’s mouth. Seeing sugar glistening on the glutton’s cheeks, the arousal in his eyes; the pleasure he took from drawing this side of Matt out.

“Am I a good piggy?” Jay asked teasingly,sucking on Matt’s hardness as the doughnuts were all finished at last.

Moaning softly, feeling his dick getting sticky from the fat guy’s sugary saliva, Matt nodded in agreement. Had Jay really just referred to himself as a ‘piggy’?

“Say it then,” Jay demanded, letting his hand take over for the few seconds he needed his mouth to talk. “Tell me what a good, fattening pig I am.”

Matt’s brain was foggy with lust. He could tell that Jay was already holding back, not allowing him to climax just yet. “You’re a good piggy,” he heard himself saying, worrying that he could ejaculate the moment he felt the words leaving his mouth. “And I do want you get fatter,” he admitted. “I always have.”

“Prove it then,” Jay suddenly demanded, slipping his mouth and hands away from Matt’s hardness; cutting him off in an instant.

“How?” Matt asked, having been so close to finishing before this abrupt stop.

“The refrigerator,” Jay simply replied; smirking in triumph.

Matt knew in an instant what he needed to do. He headed straight over and collected Jay’s calorie shake from the cool refrigerator and held it in his hands, about to become the world’s biggest hypocrite after everything he had said about these things.

“What do you want me to do?” asked a super horny birthday boy, laying back again and letting the fat splay into the seat once more.

“I want you to drink it,” Matt replied, already unscrewing the lid.

“What’s it going to do to me?” Jay whispered next, savouring the kinky moment between them both.

“It’s going to make you fatter,” Matt smiled back, so happy to be drawn into the game; so happy that he was doing this at last.

Matt stepped closer to the fat boy and then sat beside him, using his free hand to jiggle the immense softness that had enveloped Jay’s torso, whilst kissing him deeply. Then, just as Jay was really getting into it, he lifted his free hand up and gently rocked the boy’s head backwards so that his mouth pointed towards the ceiling, in position for the pouring.

“Are you ready, Piggy?” Matt asked, finally unleashing his true self. “It’s time to grow for me…”

Jay’s eyes were dancing with excitement as they drifted from his feeder’s gaze and up towards the ominously held jug of calorie shake looming above his head. Then, just like that, his mouth opened wider than Matt had ever seen it go before.

Matt couldn’t put his finger on when exactly he came, but he knew he hadn’t been done pouring. His fat boy had slipped his pudgy, sweaty hand onto his hardness and tugged at it; pushed it right into his giant, jiggling stomach, until Matt could stand it no longer. His orgasm had been years in the making and he moaned louder than any of his former lovers had ever heard him.

A new beast had just been unleashed.

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (5)

Part 5 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! I decided to change it up and add a new POV in to the mix, I hope you like it!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: pregnancy, previous injury, family trauma.

Tag list - @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @minnieoo @st4r-girl-official @courtofjurdan @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe @hauntedstudentobservationus

Y/N POV

Your first night at the House of Wind had been a success. Azriel's family were nothing but welcoming to you, maybe with the exception of Amren, and you had never slept better. Your new bed felt like sleeping on clouds, a comfort you had never know - not to mention the handsome Illyrian sat at the end of it.

When you woke, Azriel was gone. You hadn't expected that he would stay, but a small part of you had hoped he maybe would. You felt the sadness creep up your throat and your eyes stung, threatening to spill, but you willed it away. Pregnancy hormones were making you much more emotional these days, and you had no real reason to be upset that Azriel chose not to stay in your bed last night.

Hauling yourself up, you change into a dark purple tank top, which you noticed was now rising slightly above your small, swollen stomach, and a pair of comfortable black trousers. Pulling your hair into a bun on the top of your head, you made your way down to the kitchen - the smell of waffles pulling your body in the right direction. You stepped in, and found Cassian standing at the stove.

"Good morning, Princess!", he called, pulling out the closest chair to him and gesturing for you to sit.

"Good morning, Cassian", you replied with a chuckle, your mouth watering. If you weren't careful, you knew you'd start drooling over the smell. Cassian saw your eyes, wide as saucers, staring at the pan he was using, and grinned.

"Your breakfast is coming up, don't worry. Gotta keep you and the baby well fed!". He was such a Mother Hen.

Cassian dished up a generous portion of waffles with a homemade blueberry compote and placed it on the table in front of you. He turned back to make another 2 plates.

"How did you sleep?", he asked.

"Like a baby!", you replied with a mouth full of waffle. Cassian only laughed as the door opened, and Azriel walked in. Your gave him a smile, a piece of waffle still hanging out of your mouth. Azriel grinned, walking over to you and tugging on the bit of waffle before putting it into his own mouth. All three of you froze, not entirely sure how to respond, until Cassian coughed and broke the tension.

"So, y/n, how would you fancy coming up to the roof to train with me?".

Azriel, having now grabbed his own plate of waffles, whipped his head around.

"She's pregnant, Cassian".

"Well no shit, Az", Cassian replied, giving you a look that made you giggle. "I've trained plenty of pregnant women in the camps, she's pregnant, not ill".

The idea, actually, did appeal to you. You grew up in the Illyrian camps, but your father never let you leave the family compound, so you had never been able to participate in training.

"Honestly, I'd like to".

"Then finish up! I mentioned the idea to Mor and she left you some of her exercise clothes in case you decided to join, I'll leave them in front of your door for you to change into".

You nodded, turning your attention back to your plate of waffles. If Cassian wasn't already handsome in his own right, the sheer fact that his cooking tasted like this elevated him to a whole different league. You let out a moan, shovelling more waffle into your mouth than you had space for, and watched Cassian and Azriel attempting to eat their own breakfasts without laughing.

-

You changed into a pair of Mor's dark red workout leggings and matching sports bra and headed up to the roof of the House of Wind, where you found Cassian waiting for you.

"Alright, we'll start on some basics. Focus on getting your balance in check and some light strength exercises. If you feel unwell at any time, stop and tell me, ok?".

And so the morning was spent. You fell over more times that you cared to admit, got a cramp in your left calf, and almost upchucked your waffles trying to hold some of Cassian's ridiculous balance poses. But, it was fun. You were enjoying your time with Cassian, who was nothing but a kind, funny, gentleman.

"When do I get to do something fun? Like try to punch you?", you asked, heaving your breaths as you balanced your hands on your knees. Cassian only laughed.

"Go grab a drink", he said, pointing to a water fountain built into the wall behind him. As you walked towards it, you heard a sharp intake of breath, and spun around to see Cassian staring at you.

"All ok?", you ask.

Cassian walked towards you slowly and reached out his hand, gently turning you around to face away from him.

"Who did this?".

-

Cassian's POV

Y/n slowly turned back to face him, her face drained of all colour.

"It's nothing, Cassian", she whispered. He could see the tears forming in her eyes and his heart broke for the pain she was clearly carrying with her. He pulled her into his arms and held her.

"It's not nothing, y/n. I get if you don't want to tell me, that's entirely your right, it's your story, but don't diminish your pain and call it nothing - you matter".

He felt her shoulders shake as she sobbed into his leathers. Cassian wished that he had daemati gifts and could call for Azriel right now, who he knew had travelled to Windhaven that morning.

When y/n had calmed a bit, he felt her pull away slightly and look up into his eyes.

"I'm half-Illyrian - that's why I'm able to carry a baby with wings. My father is Illyrian, my mother was Fae. She died when I was just a baby so I don't remember her at all. I was taken to live in the camps with my three older brothers so my father could carry on his work - but he really didn't have much of an interest in us. I don't think he ever wanted children".

Tears were pouring down her face and Cassian felt awful.

"You don't need to tell me if you don't want to, y/n".

She gave Cassian a small smile and looked down at her hands, playing with her fingers and leaning into his chest.

"I was kept under house arrest while my brothers went to train. I cleaned, I cooked, I think really I just became the substitute wife and mother that they needed to take care of them while they went ahead making a name for themselves as warriors".

"Then, one day, I noticed my brothers looking at me strangely at breakfast. I wasn't sure why, until I noticed the scent, and realised I had gotten my cycle".

"They grabbed me and dragged me to my uncle's tent where he and my father were drawing up training plans and threw me at their feet. They picked up on it too - and my father ran to grab his hunting knife".

He felt her body shake, scented her fear permeating the air as she recounted the trauma.

"He only meant to make a cut, I think. That's what happened to the other girls. Just a cut. I tried to run. I really tried. But the knife caught too close to the base of my wing".

Cassian screwed up his face in anger and horror, his wings flaring slightly as they felt the phantom pains that y/n was describing.

"The healer couldn't save the right one - so my father ordered that they both be removed".

Cassian felt y/n slump against him, the weight of telling her story clearly taking a toll on her body. He gently guided them both over to the steps and sat her down, keeping her as close to him as possible.

"Y/n, I am so sorry. I had no idea - I wouldn't have suggested this if I'd have known".

She gave him a pointed look.

"Cassian. I wanted to train. I missed out on training my whole life and I finally feel that freedom here. I get it, I understand now, the blood rushing through your body and the adrenaline pumping. I want to train".

Cassian nodded, pulling her in for a hug.

"Thank you for telling me your story - and I promise, I will train you".

-

Azriel's POV

Azriel had returned from Windhaven a sweaty, dishevelled mess at around 4pm. He hopped into his shower to wash off the day before his stomach let out a loud grumble, and he realised he hadn't had anything to eat since his waffles at breakfast. The memory of him eating the waffle from y/n's mouth ran through his head and he grimaced. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to do it - it just felt natural, like he had been doing that all his life. He shook his head, trying to shake away the embarrassment, when his stomach grumbled again and he decided to wander down to the kitchen in search of sustenance .

Cassian was seated at the table, a coffee in hand and a book on war strategy in front of him. He looked up and offer Azriel a smile.

"Hey brother".

"Hey, how was training today? Did y/n get on ok?".

"Yeah she did well - but thanks for the bloody heads up".

Azriel looked at Cassian in confusion.

"Heads up for what?"

"Heads up that she grew up in the Illyrian war camps and lost her wings, Az, that's the kind of information I should have known before training her. Training her pregnant is fine, but training her pregnant and with pre-existing injuries? I needed to know that to make sure I adjusted the training plan, and what about if...."

Azriel stopped listening. You had been there, in the camps? You had had wings? How did he not know this? Cassian stopped, clearly seeing that Azriel's mind was racing.

"You didn't know?", he asked, astonished. Azriel just shook his head.

"How did you not know, Az? The scars down her back are pretty damn obvious - and considering the pair of you managed to make a baby, I'm guessing you saw her back plenty".

Azriel had seen y/n's back. At least, he thought he had? He had been in such a bad place during that time, drinking and sleeping his way through Velaris, that he didn't remember much of that night. Had he really become that type of person? The kind to pay so little attention to the woman he was sleeping with that he missed scars down her back from her wings? Azriel battled his own trauma about his scarred hands daily, he knew what it was like to share your scars, your trauma, with another person - and he gave it so little consideration?

Cassian saw Azriel's spiral and stepped up to put his hand on his brother's shoulder, grounding him.

"What happened to her?"

"Az, you should talk to her. Ask her to share her story with you. It's not mine to tell". Azriel knew Cassian was right, but he couldn't bring himself to raise it just yet - to admit that he had paid so little attention to her, and her body, that he didn't already know.

"Who did it to her?".

"She didn't say, and she was upset so I didn't want to pry".

Azriel nodded, but he wasn't prepared to accept that answer. Quietly, he ordered his shadows to Windhaven to find out who y/n's family was, what they had done to her. It dawned on Azriel, as he watched the shadows leave, that he knew nothing about the mother of his child. How she had come to be in Velaris, why she grew up in the camps, what had happened to her family, if she still had family, her dreams, hopes, aspirations. He knew nothing. Azriel felt a heavy weight on his shoulders and he sagged into a chair opposite Cassian, no longer hungry.

-

The shadows returned around midnight, whilst Azriel and Cassian were lounging on sofas in the House of Wind library, a glass of whiskey in hand. Cassian almost lost his glass to them as they flew through the air in an almost panicked manner and swirled around Azriel's head.

Azriel listened in as his shadows all but shouted in his ears. He felt his face pale and looked over to Cassian, who was equally as alarmed.

"What's the matter?".

"Cass, she's Devlon's niece".

[bby-deerling]

i'm sorry, women (platonic sanji & zoro's partner!reader)

yes this is based on that scene from diary of a wimpy kid, no i'm not sorry. part of my lil' zoro x reader cinematic universe, but as always can be read as a standalone

suggestive, 18+, mdni, wc: 1.1k masterlist

It was a beautiful morning, bright blue sky untouched by clouds and sun high in the air—a perfect day, in your eyes, for you and Zoro to take care of some laundry.  You take care of your own garments first, scrubbing them thoroughly in the soapy water before rinsing them and carefully hanging them up on the clothesline.  Feeling footsteps approaching, you tilt your head upwards to be met with a familiar blonde mop of hair.

“Hey, Sanji!  Thanks for the extra bacon at breakfast!” you chirp as you start on Zoro’s clothes pile, dunking a pair of his sweatpants under the layer of suds.

“Always my pleasure, sunshine.” he says, carefully blowing his cigarette smoke out of one side of his mouth to avoid directing it towards you or your freshly hung clothes.  You pull Zoro’s pants out of the washing tub and rinse them off, but pause when you notice the frown on the cook’s face.

“What’s up, blondie?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him and tilting your head.

“Nothing.  It’s just that you’re too good to be doing a man’s laundry for him.” he says, motioning to the pair of sopping wet pants in your hands.

You let out a sigh, setting them down and crossing your arms.  “He’s going to help me soon; he’s just finishing up his workout.” 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to sit here and watch you wait around for him all day until those bubbles are all popped.” he says, the look in his eye dancing somewhere between disappointment and pity.

“Quit worrying so much about what I’m doing—he promised to help me, and he will.” you snap back, picking the pair of pants back up and wringing them out before hanging them up on the clothesline.

You expect him to leave you be to get started on preparations for lunch, but Sanji simply stares you down with an incredulous look in his eyes until you grumble and make your way towards the Observation Tower to go collect Zoro.

Poking your head out of the trap door in the floor, you take a moment to soak in the delicious sight of a shirtless Zoro training his back before speaking up.

“I’m ready for your help with the laundry, no rush though!”  you say with a smile.  Despite Sanji’s scathing disapproval, you really didn’t mind picking up a chore for Zoro here or there; what you were really after was spending time with him, whether it was finishing the laundry together out on the deck or keeping him company while he trained.

He lets out a grunt as he lets his weight fall to the floor.  “Lost track of time.  I’m almost finished up here, I’ll be right down, promise.” he says, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders.

“Mind if I stay and watch?” you ask, propping your head up with your elbows and staring up at him with eager eyes.  He grins back at you, running his hand through his hair and wiping his sweat away with the towel around his neck.

“As much as I’d love that, I actually need you to do something for me.” he says.  “I’ve got a couple shirts in my dresser that I forgot to put in the dirty pile, you’ll know which ones.  Mind getting them for me?”

“Sure thing!” you say as you nod, knowing exactly which clean-up shirts he was talking about, and making a mental note to also wash all the shirts that had come into contact with them.  Descending the ladder and making a bee-line towards the men’s quarters, you hum one of your favorite tunes under your breath as you pull open Zoro’s dresser drawer, only for your jaw to drop and mind to go blank as your eyes drifted to Sanji’s bed.

Sanji’s sheets were absolutely littered with dirty magazines, naked women on the covers performing acts ranging anywhere from femdom to being tied up in bondage.  Grabbing Zoro’s shirts, you intend to bring them outside and add them to the pile of clothes to wash, but you find yourself frozen and slack-jawed at the sheer brazenness of him keeping this in a shared place—a place where poor Chopper could potentially see them and be scarred for life.

“Forgot about those.  Stupid pervert can’t even bother hide them well.”  Zoro says as he enters the room and notices your shock, annoyed at Sanji’s inability to be normal towards women, or discreet about his more devious tastes.

Lost in thought and still frozen, you take a moment to process the situation before a wicked grin spreads across your face.

“I’m gonna mess with him.” you say decisively, grabbing one of Sanji’s ties and using it as a barrier to pick up one of the more filthy shibari magazines and taking it out to the deck.  Zoro follows close behind you, a devious smirk pulling at his lips.

“Get out here blondie!” you shout, still red in the face from witnessing the sheer obscenity of the cook's taste in X-rated material.  As you wait for him to shuffle out of the kitchen, you take another quick glance at the cover of the magazine and cringe.

“You called?  Did you want something to snack on—” he starts, before turning pale as a ghost when you hold the magazine in his face.

“Found this when grabbing some of Zoro’s shirts.  Why am I not surprised that the so-called gentleman has all this dehumanizing filth spread on his bed for anyone to see?”

“It’s a high art form, dear.” he says, a visible bead of sweat running down his face as Robin giggles behind her hand, enjoying the show from her reclining chair.

“You can call it whatever you want, cook, but it looks like porn to me, and hardcore at that.” she says, amused. 

Sanji’s cigarette snaps in half between his teeth, turning back towards you.  “Men have certain urges, sunshine.” he says defensively, trying in vain to pull some smoke through the severed cigarette, eyes turning towards Zoro, implying he would understand what he was trying to say.

Zoro lets out a deep chuckle, greatly enjoying the torture session unfolding before him.  “Don’t look at me like that, pervert.  You know you’re not getting any help from me.”

“Do you have anything you want to say to women for having owned this type of magazine?” you say, not willing to let him go just yet.

“I’m sorry, women…” he mumbles, face pink and head hanging low as he stared at the ground.

Satisfied, you take the magazine into the kitchen and toss it in the trash can before returning to the wash tub to finish the laundry.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter one:

Love You More

Series Masterlist

Next part: Wine and Dine

Word Count: 6,987

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

Steve sat pretty in his office at the compound, he had changed from his usual work clothes into his workout clothes not too long ago, preparing to switch from boring office work to one on one training.

He had gotten a call a few minutes ago letting him know an agent was being sent to him for disciplinary action due to some unfavorable behavior.

So he sat and waited, moving side to side in his swivel chair with a grin on his face, anticipating he knew exactly who was about to walk through that door.

And just like he thought, you stormed in his office like a little grey rain cloud. Not a single knock on the door before entering, not a professional greeting, no eye contact.

Just you, plopping down on the less comfortable swivel chair across his desk. Arms folded, eyes on the pothos plant he tried his hardest to keep alive, and your face contorted in such a manor that gave away all your internal emotions. You were seething, the pinch in your brow and the twinge in your pout told him so.

He sat with a sympathetic grin on his lips as he waited for you to pull your wireless earbuds out so his words didn't get lost behind the music you seemed to always be listening to in order to keep your mind occupied and away from reality.

"Hi, Bug." Steve greeted his friend who had been sent to his office as if he had been through this many times before... because he has.

"Hello Roger Stevenson." You responded in the same tone, slouching further into the same chair you've slouched in dozens of times now.

"What did you do?" He questioned, just as dryly as he greeted you.

"Kicked an agent in the dick." You stated confidentiality.

Steve smiled. "Why did you do that?"

"Because he cornered me durning training and tried to scare me into dropping out of the program with you." You complained.

This was the problem nearly every single time you sat in that very chair. Women agents in the compound were far and few between, and women agents that were high up in ranks were even further and fewer. Not because they were incapable, but because of the way they were treated.

Steve saw the misogyny from miles away, he saw it every day, and he had to deal with it every day. The agent training programs were chalk full of toxically masculine men who very obviously felt threatened by the presence of strong women.

He knew every single woman agent by name at this point because of how many times he had to put the men around them in their place. He had done it a billion times before, and he'd do it a billion times again.

You were the firecracker at the compound. Physically and emotionally, you outranked every agent the compound had ever seen. You worked your way through every training program so easily that you had been 'randomly selected' for more drug tests than any of your other colleagues. Peers always accused you of being on steroids, the men cornered you, belittled you, sexualized you, and sometimes even went as far as to touch your body.

At this point, you found yourself in Steve's generously spacious office a minimum of twice a week. Most of the time it was because your commander always sent you for disciplinary action because the only part of the altercations that were ever caught happened to be you defending yourself, rather than the initial issue. The other times were because you snuck away to the only place in the building you felt like you could take a moment to regain your composure, maybe have a little cry if you needed it.

For a few months now, you've been undergoing a completely new program to continue progressing in your training. Four days a week after your normal group work, you had private training with Steve.

You were learning a lot from him, and all the time the two of you had been spending together had turned you and Steve into close friends but naturally, that fueled the fire of all of your peers. The tormenting had turned up to a level that had you seeing red.

Steve couldn't and never blamed you for all the times you sat across from him for having kicked, punched, or screamed at a colleague. He was proud that you had it in you to stick up for yourself, but sad that you even had to in the first place.

However, everyone in the compound could tell that the never ending abuse from your peers was affecting your mental health. Tony and Fury had formally invited you onto the Avengers team twice now, not only because of your skill set, but also in hopes of making the situation a little better for you. Both times you professionally declined the offer with high honor, and when Steve questioned your choice both times, it was always because you didn't think you were good enough yet. Shit, you hadn't even made it through all of the training programs the compound had to offer.

It was painfully obvious that you were over qualified for a spot on the Avengers to everyone but you. The words being viciously spat at you nearly every day by inadequate men had sunken so far deep into your brain that you started to believe their words to be true. So, more one on one training it was.

"What should your disciplinary action be?" Steve asked, leaning back in his chair.

You noted his work out clothes, then looked at the time. "How about five minutes of peace and quiet before you beat my ass for two whole hours of training?"

"Peace and quiet?! That just seems so cruel." He offered an apologetic grin.

"I deserve it. I'm a terrible team player, far to emotional to ever be a good agent." Sarcasm dropped from your tone. "I must be on my period today."

"Go assert your dominance over on the couch and take a breather, I'm starting to feel way to intimidated by your feminine energy." Steve joked. "I have a few things to take care of but I'll get you when I'm ready for our one on one today."

You nodded, and stood up before making the very short walk over to the cozy couch in his office. Having spent many hours here with him before, you always felt comforted by the suede nook and throw pillow wonderland.

There was always an unspoken sense of appreciation when Steve knew not to make a big deal out of what happened. Sometimes if he harped on it for too long it would just make you cry, and if he went and yelled at the agents who had put you in this position, they'd only come back and try twice as hard to deliver you your downfall.

So pretend write ups and stern talking to's happened to be the best way to go about it.

As you sunk into the couch, Steve got up and grabbed you a water bottle and a snack. Having already trained for a few hours today with a few more ahead of you, he wanted to make sure you were taken care of.

Squatting down in front of you, peace offering in hand, Steve saw all the emotions you were trying to suppress. "Oh, and as part of your punishment you're required to hang out with Bucky and I tonight at my place. We're getting pizza and watching movies."

Only then did your smile appear. "How dare you? It wasn't even my fault and now I'm being punished far beyond the offense."

"I don't want to hear it young lady." He stood up. "You do the crime, you gotta do the time."

"Well I guess I can't say no." You took Steve's peace offering. "What time are you expecting my appearance?"

"I'm off work after training you so just come over whenever you're ready." He shrugged, moving back to his desk.

"I'm gonna shower and nap after this." You raised an eyebrow.

"Just as you deserve." Steve agreed as he sat down and fixed his eyes on his computer screen. "Your cruel and unusual punishment of peace and quiet starts now."

Feeling appreciative of Steve, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back onto the cushion. Trying your absolute hardest to meditate the anger and sadness out of your body, it was difficult to not allow yourself to sit in the emotional puddle of despair that these altercations constantly left you in.

Had it not been for Steve, you would've quit this job and ran far, far away by now. Every work day was proving to be a mental and physical hurdle that was starting to slowly chip away at your spirit, but you had no choice but to truck along considering you've already made it this far.

But eventually sunshine, rainbows, and a hot, cheesy slice to pizza consumed your thoughts to create a calmer peace of mind. That was until all of the green meadows and greasy goodness was cut off by a pillow gently whacking you in the face.

Upon ripping your eyes open, and the same seething pout returning to your face, the soldier stood proudly before you, hiding his invasive laughter by biting his tongue.

"You know, if you weren't my higher-up I'd kick you in the dick too." You grumbled.

All of Steve's self control broke free at your words, and his laughter sounded through his big and beautiful office. "I wasn't sure if you were awake or not."

"So the solution was violence?" You questioned, trying to hide your amusement. Though you could put on a pretty good act, you couldn't imagine a world in which you would ever be genuinely angry at the lump of wholesome goodness in the form of your big, strong best friend.

"That wasn't violent, that was a creative solution!" He smiled widened as your lips tugged upwards. "I chose the softest one!"

"I'll find a creative solution to get you back for that." You playfully threatened. "I know where you live."

"Can you find a creative solution to getting up off the couch so we can get training started?"

You let out a fake cry of complaint "but Stevie, my legs are so sore."

"You're being worked way too hard, we'll take it easy today." Steve offered you his hands to pull you up off the seat. "We can focus of hand to hand combat, give your legs a good break."

"No, it's fine. We can do tricking like you originally planned." You denied. Your hands found his, and he pulled you up with ease.

"Tricking is a martial art that relies mainly on your legs." Steve challenged, letting go of your hands when you were steady on your feet. "I don't think it's a good idea for today. Let's do it tomorrow instead."

"It'll be okay, I can to it." You shook your head.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." Steve started walking out of his office towards the private gymnasium the two of you trained in together. "I know you can do it, but I'd rather you properly recover than prove a point."

"...it's not to prove a point." You stated, trailing behind him like a puppy. "I'm just trying to be a good little agent and do my best."

"Your worst is better than most of the other agents best." He looked back at you with a grin. "So there's no harm in waiting until tomorrow."

"Whatever you say, Captain."

Though Steve has made it abundantly clear many times that you didn't have to prove your worth to him, you harbored a deep sense of disappointment in yourself for letting that complaint slip passed your lips.

He would've wanted you to feel comfortable expressing your bodies needs and limitations. In fact, he reminded you all of the time that recovery was just as important as the training itself. But you wanted to be capable of doing it all without a single peep about your discomfort.

You wanted to be mighty, you wanted to be strong, you wanted to prove your worth.

Your friend always knew your value even when you couldn't see it, so he made a habit out of advocating for your needs when you wouldn't. While you studied him to become a better fighter, he studied you just as hard. At this point he knew what every single one of your facial expressions meant, he sensed your attitude change before you expressed it, he was an expert in your body language, and was knowledgeable about your body in general.

If you weren't able to properly take care of it, he would. With the most careful respect anyone has ever given you before, Steve knew you better than anyone else in your life.

Although he took training a little bit easy today, he never stopped letting prideful compliments slip past his tongue every time you nailed a new move on the head, or every time he noticed an improvement. Even if you didn't do something so well, his critiques always started with a compliment on your brave attempt and never ended with a belittling statement.

Training with Steve always ended with a hug, or a high five if the two of you were far too hot and sweaty to want to touch each other anymore, then he'd remind you to get some rest, drink some water, and fill your belly with lots of food.

Today was no different, and as he ended the session with a big hug and words of affirmation, your mind felt a whole lot clearer than it did when you initially stormed into his office.

You said goodbye to him, but not for long because not even two hours later, you were knocking on the door to his cozy apartment in the compound.

Most people in the compound lived in barracks. A few agents to a room, with a community living situation for kitchens, living rooms, and bathrooms. The only exceptions to this were the Avengers who got their own little apartments in a private sector of the compound and..... well; you.

You were initially assigned to the barracks just like everyone else, but much like the rest of your personal journey here at the compound, the living situation got complicated.

Not only were you getting bullied and harassed while you were working, it started seeping into your living situation too. Sleeping, showering, changing your clothes, there was not a single moment in which you felt safe and confident that you weren't about to get caught in the crossfire of an angry colleague.

So after one too many incidents, your commander moved you to an apartment to yourself. It was away from the avengers and all the other agents, so even though it was nice to have a place for your own, some days it also felt isolating.

Thats why you loved hanging out with the boys. Sometimes you just needed some comfortable interaction with people you trusted in places that felt like home.

Before your hand even made it back to down to your side, the door swung open.

"You know, you and Bucky both have a key to my place. I don't understand why you guys still knock." Steve was on the other side, now wearing a white T-shirt and some cozy pants. A smile stretched across your lips and he gave you the stink eye. "I also don't understand why you showed up to pizza and a movie like that. Especially when you said you were gonna take a nap."

Usually the dress code for his house was strictly cozy clothes only. But you now had a full face of makeup, your hair was curled to perfection, and your outfit definitely didn't look comfortable.

"There was a small change of plans." You shrugged, walking past him entering his place before kicking your shoes off in the entryway.

"What do you mean change of pla-"

"Bucky!" Your smile widened when you saw your other friend sitting on the couch.

Immediately standing up, Bucky approached you and wrapped you up in a big hug. "Buggy! It's been too long!"

"It has been too long, and it's all your fault" You joked, enjoying being wrapped up in his arms.

"How is it my fault?" He asked, pretending to be offended.

"Because you went on that mission a few weeks ago!" You reminded him.

"Well then it's your fault too because you left on a mission the same day I got home." Bucky disagreed, letting you go.

"Maybe if less people in the world were so needy and evil we'd be able to see each other more." You noted, plopping down on the couch.

"Why do you look so pretty?" Bucky questioned.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Steve added.

"Because I'm going to watch a movie with you boys... then maybe going out with a ...friend right after this." You sneakily explained knowing damn well they were about to hate what you were saying.

Like it was choreographed and synchronized, they looked at each other, then turned their heads back to you with a glare.

"You're seeing Harvey, aren't you?" Steve deadpanned.

"If I was, why would that be so bad?" You questioned.

"Because Harvey is your ex boyfriend. Emphasis on the ex." Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"No he's not. We didn't break up, we simply took a break. Those are two completely different things." You defended yourself knowing they both hated Harvey's guts.

"Taking a break is breaking up but just so much worse. He's just hurting your feelings more and dragging you along." Steve vented with his hands on his hips, like a disappointed dad.

"Exactly. And everyone knows he's one of the worst Agents in the compound." Bucky sassed, sitting next to you on the couch. "He's not nice, he doesn't have a good personality, he's falling behind so far we don't even feel comfortable sending him on missions anymore."

"He does have a good personality, he just doesn't show his true self to a lot of people. He's closed off to the outside world." You defended him.

"He's friends with all the douche bags that torment you every day. How could you be okay with that?" Steve dropped his tone to a more gentle one as he sat on the side of you opposite Bucky.

"I still haven't forgiven him for breaking your heart not even 3 months ago." Bucky reminded you of when he broke up with you over text, just to beg for you back not even a full week later.

"I know on paper it all looks bad, but you guys just don't get it. You won't understand unless you see it from the inside like I do. He can be really sweet, and he is a good agent, he just lets his dumbass friends distract him too much." You continued your defense with a shrug. "He's a Scorpio."

"Oh please" Bucky laughed. "Don't bring astrology into this."

You leaned back onto Bucky's arm and let your legs rest over Steve's lap. If you had to hear their lecture, you at least deserved to be comfortable.

"What does that even mean?" Steve questioned curiously.

"Scorpio's are kind've intense." You explained. "They're mysterious and charming, but sometimes vindictive. Harvey feels things strongly, and acts on his feelings immediately with not much to rationalize his behavior."

"Yeah, vindictive is definitely the right word to describe him" Bucky backhandedly agreed, slinging his arm around your shoulders allowing you to get more comfortable.

"What am I?" Steve asked.

"A cancer, I think." You smiled. "Let me look it up. Your birthday is the Fourth of July, right?"

"You know me so well" Steve nodded.

Your fingers typed on your phone and Bucky watched the screen. "I'm a Pisces." He stated.

"Okay, Steve. Cancers are soft, loving, creative and nurturing. They care deeply for the people they love and are uniquely in touch with their emotions. Cancers are able to handle all the roles their counterparts get lost in, they are chivalrous but are sensitive and easily emotionally wounded." You read the google search to them.

"Okay you can stop now, that made me feel vulnerable." Steve joked with a smile.

"That's Steve if I've ever heard it." Bucky agreed that the description matched him perfectly.

"Read Bucky's now." Steve encouraged, poking your leg.

Your fingers typed quickly once again. "A Pisces man is kind and unafraid to nurture his feminine side. He has the ability to listen compassionately, show deep empathy. They tend to view attention as a gift, and only ever wants to feel loved and cherished. Oh, and they're lazy, idealistic, and use escapism as their main coping mechanism."

"Awww, that's just like our sweet little Bucky boy." Steve cooed.

"Now I feel vulnerable." Bucky momentarily hid his face in his hands earning your laugh.

"What's yours, Bug?" Steve questioned with a giggle.

"I'm a Gemini" You stated proudly. "Most people don't like Geminis"

"What's there not to like?" Steve cocked his head to the side.

"Well the most notable trait of a Gemini is that we have a strong ability to switch between different roles, interests, and perspectives with ease. Kind've like Yin and Yang all in one. We can be emotional and logical, introverted and extroverted, analytical and intuitive all at the same time." You explained.

"I still don't see the problem" Steve said.

"Most people take the duality as being two-faced. Almost like we will use it as manipulation or means to have a hidden agenda. But I think that's a false representation of what I'm really like." You continued with a shrug. "I don't have an ulterior motive, I just try to view all things from all sides and find a good balance of logic and emotion. Like letting your heart and your brain make choices together."

"Being able to see situations from all angles is what makes you such a good agent, that's practically a super power" Bucky commented, lightly nudging you with his shoulder.

"Exactly. Understanding your enemy can let you get two steps ahead of them while still holding your own with grace and precision." Steve agreed.

"Float like a butterfly, and sting like a bee." Bucky added.

"That's exactly why I call her Bug!" Steve enthused with a big smile.

"Oh, I call her Bug because you call her Bug, but that makes sense!" Bucky laughed. "I thought it was because most people are scared of her at first but once you learn more about her, she's really not that bad after all!"

You looked up at Bucky with eyes squinted into a glare worth a thousand daggers. "Worms for brains!"

Steve's laughter at the comment didn't falter either, so you gently kicked him in the rib. "Hey! I'm the second person you've kicked today!"

"I wouldn't have to kick people if people didn't give me a reason to kick them." You defended yourself. "And I stand by that!"

Steve's hands held your two legs tightly in his hands. "Keep your legs closed and to yourself, ma'am!"

You gasped and clutched your chest in exaggeration before joking. "Are you calling me a slut, Captain?!"

"Steven Grant Rogers!" Bucky protectively clutched you closer to him. "That is not how we speak to women!"

"No wait!" Steve laughed. "That's not what I meant!"

“Mmmhmmm" Bucky sassed.

"I meant stop kicking people! Especially me!"

"I'm choosing to forgive you, under one condition." You giggled. "Please order the pizza. I'm starving."

"I heard your stomach grumbling during training, I ordered it 15 minutes ago." Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, I love you so much." You professed. "Sweet, sweet man."

Steve's cheeks subtly warmed. "I love you more!"

"I'm gonna vomit." Bucky grumbled behind you. "Remember when he called you a slut?"

"I did not!" Steve shrieked.

You barked out a laugh before rolling onto your side to reach for the remote on the coffee table. "What are we watching boys? Lord knows this is going to take at least half an hour to figure out..."

And right you were, because the pizza arrived before the three of you agreed on a movie. You stuffed your bellies and watched the film before saying goodbye to them and meeting Harvey for drinks.

Though you didn't have high expectations of how you wanted the night to turn out with him, Harvey somehow found a way to dig underneath the bar you had set on the floor for him.

It was clear from the moment you showed up at the causal dive bar that he wasn't interested in speaking like adults, so through the entire duration of your first drink he sat and belittled you. It was as if his friends in the compound had taken control of his brain like a parasite. All of the reasons he claimed he could never get back together with you sounded just like the reasons most of the agents at the compound treated you like a piece of garbage.

You weren't even that good of an agent, he didn't like how much time you were spending with Steve, your invitation to the avengers was just coercion, and you spent too much time working and not enough time attending to him... even though both of you worked the same hours.

Needless to say, you cut him off before ordering a shot on his tab. You threw it back effortlessly without as much as a stink face or a wince, slipped the bartender a tip, then walked away without as much as a single goodbye to the man you once loved with your whole heart.

Maybe Steve and Bucky were right. They were always right, and you always ended up looking like a fool.

Much like a fool would, you cried for the entire walk back to the compound. You cried through the hallways up to your apartment, you cried while taking off your makeup and brushing your teeth. You even cried as you slipped on your pajamas and walked back to Steve's apartment, hoping that maybe him and Bucky were still watching movies.

But, you did manage to stop the tears as you slid the key in and unlocked his door. You sniffled as you stepped in and were greeted with a dark living room and his bedroom door shut.

Feeling a little defeated, you still wanted to be with someone. So you quietly made your way into his room and slipped into the unoccupied side of his bed.

You didn't know if it was the big, scary superhero sleeping next to you, or maybe the extra comfortable blankets and pillows, but Steve's bed was the most comforting place in the world to you.

He never questioned why, and neither of you even remembered how it came to be, but you made a dirty little habit of sneaking in and sleeping in his company when you couldn't fathom being alone at night. You had a lot on your plate, and Harvey was known for breaking your heart right before bed. The compound to you wasn't the warm and fuzzy place it was to Steve and Bucky, it was cold and sterile. So Steve was happy to let you come to the one place you found comfort whenever you needed

But there was one unspoken rule, and that was for very obvious reasons. No one could know about this. Not any other agent, not any other avenger. Not even Bucky.

Why? Well, the most obvious reason was that if anyone found out about how close you and Steve really were, especially your little sleepovers, all of the times your colleagues falsely claimed that you were having sex with him to climb up in ranks would quadruple in amount. You were already getting horrifically bullied at the compound, and neither of you could stand to add fuel to the fire.

The second reason being Steve was technically your higher up. Like a manager or a supervisor, you occasionally reported to him. Though him being your main disciplinary figure and trainer, he also occasionally did other duties surrounding your job such as deployment on missions, oversight on testing days, and training assessments.

Your friendship was already crossing way more lines than either of you have ever crossed in a normal boss - employee relationship. Steve had moral dilemmas about it every single day, he could see the dilemma in your eyes every so often as well. On paper it was wrong, but given the circumstances that his friendship with you was similar to his friendships with the avengers, Steve made himself feel better by viewing it as stepping stones to get you onto the team. Because once you were officially an Avenger, the two of you would be equals and there would be absolutely nothing wrong with your closeness.

The third and least obvious reason was the unfortunate fact that Steve was head over heels in love with you.

He really never meant for this to happen, but it hit him harder than a freight train the very first time he ever laid eyes on you. You had just ranked high enough to start agent training under Steve's devision. Anticipating a brand new group of recruits to whip into shape, especially with rumors about a nameless and faceless agent, Agent 306, who had worked their way into his devision in less than 3 months, less than half the time it took everyone else to get there, he walked into the group training room and his eyes immediately locked on yours.

Once they found you, he couldn't look away. You reminded him so much of when he was in boot camp before he took the serum. In a lineup of men that towered over you in height, you seemed tiny but mighty. Steve knew better than anyone else to never underestimate the little guy.

So he started down the line and put the assigned agent numbers to faces while trying his best to memorize them as fast as he could. You stood as tall as you could and improved your posture as he got closer to you. Admittedly, being in front of an avenger for the first time was terrifying and nerve wracking. The closer he got, the harder your hands shook.

Then, it was your turn. The man towered over you with his big, solid frame. But the second you looked into his big blue eyes, you immediately recognized the kindness and warmth that lived within them.

"Agent?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"306." You stated simply.

Expecting him to nod after he studied your face and move on like he did the rest of the agents, his eyes widened for a moment before his lips tugged up into a smile.

You were the most beautiful thing his eyes every had the pleasure of looking at, and while he had the permission, he took in all your features as quickly as he could. He remembered how much he thought you looked like women painted in fine pieces of art for centuries. Classic, timeless, effortlessly beautiful.

"306." He smiled. "I've heard a lot about you. You've got a big reputation to uphold. Keep up the good work."

Just when he thought you couldn't get any more beautiful, your eyes twinkled. He could tell you you were suppressing a smile to keep a professionally straight face. "Thank you, Captain."

Just like that, he moved on to the next agent in the line.

But to this day, he's never moved on from you. He tried his absolute hardest, but he just couldn't. So he shoved it down so deeply into his heart, and locked it up, and threw the metaphorical key into the middle of the ocean.

Since that very day, he had to work hard so just to make sure nobody would ever find out how smitten he was of you. He'd never look at you for too long, never pick you out of the line unless it was necessary, never overly complement your work, and never let his mind wander too far.

You had a boyfriend, and he was your boss. Plain and simple. He wiped the dirt off his shoulder.

But over time, your friendship blossomed, the harassment got worse, and one on one training with you started. That started a whole new level of trust that he simply could not break for you.

Training was intense, and when all the men around you tried to cop sneaky feels of your body, you and Steve grew a mutual trust in touching each other.

Sometimes he had to throw you, catch you, you had to throw light punches and kicks at him. There were days in which he'd have you in a headlock, maybe you full body tackled him onto the ground, maybe he had to grab your waist to correct you mid-flip to make sure you wouldn't snap your neck upon landing.

You were so confident in his ability to be respectful of you, that you were comfortable enough to sleep in his bed when you had a boyfriend.

It took so much time to gain that kind of trust with you, and that trust was very important to him. To accomplish what you two were doing, feeling comfortable and confident in your partner was make or break.

If you ever found out that he had a stupid little crush on you, he could only imagine it would break a majority of that trust. Immediately, the comfortable energy between you two would become very uncomfortable for you, and he simply couldn't put that burden on you.

If Bucky found out you had occasionally been sleeping in Steve's bed, he would immediately figure out his dirty little secret. It would alter the dynamic of your little friend group, and he would push and push for Steve to just tell you the truth in hopes it had some fairytale ending.

So yeah. Nobody could know about this.

Steve had enough conscious awareness to know that you were there with him last night, but not enough to remember you sneaking out before he was awake. You loved to avoid his questions about what had you down enough to not want to be alone, and you had gotten better at tactics to avoid the post sleep interview he loved to bombard you with.

You were so good, in fact, that you managed to avoid it all day until you walked into the private training gym anticipating your routine with Steve.

Oddly enough, he was late. You were never there before him, and he was never even a minute late to anything. So you took the time to start the music from your shared workout playlist with him, and do some warm up stretches on the floor while you waited.

Ten minutes later, he frantically walked into the room. "So sorry I'm late, had an emergency call down to the track-" he stopped in his tracks when he saw lingering sadness on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" You shook your head, touching your hands to your toes. "I'm fine."

"You look like you've been crying." He noted, cautiously sitting on the floor in front of you.

"It's fine, I've been looking forward to this all day. Can we just get started?" You asked, unable to fake a chipper tone of voice.

"I was late because an agent decided that working through a hangover was a good idea, and now there's vomit all over the running track. Could that violent hangover have anything to do with your tear stained cheeks, Bug?" He asked.

"Harvey?" You questioned.

"Bingo."

"I frankly do not care to hear anything else about him." You shook your head again. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, but it has nothing to do with me. I'm not responsible for any of his dumb choices anymore."

"You never have been." Steve agreed with reluctance. "Last night didn't go so well, huh?"

"We're done." You finally looked Steve in the eyes. "You and Bucky were right. I'm done being discredited and disrespected by the worst excuse for a human in this place."

"I'm so sorry." Steve's face softened in sympathy. Despite his internal happiness that you were officially done with a man who has treated you so poorly, it didn’t make up for the empathy he had for your sadness. "I know you loved him a lot, I can imagine this is difficult for you."

"Can we do that thing where we don't harp on an issue for too long so I don't get even more upset about it?" You asked, feeling as if you'd explode into a puddle of tears if he kept being so nice to you.

"Sure thing, we can talk about it later when work is over." Steve agreed, standing up and offering you his hands. "Did you drink last night?"

You let him help you up and let out a sigh. Technically, you weren't supposed to be drinking much or consuming any substances that could alter your sobriety just in case you got called on emergency.

"I did, but not enough to get me hammered." You explained, letting him help you up. "Just a cocktail and a shot. But I also ate and drank plenty of water."

"That's fine, you know I trust you to make good choices." Steve acknowledged, happy you told him the truth.

"Then why did you ask?" You questioned, dusting your hands off on your work out pants.

"Just wanted to make sure you're not going to throw up on me." Steve smiled.

"I think we're in the clear." You giggled.

"You're allowed to take a day off, you know?" Steve reminded you. "We don't have to do this today if you want to just take a day to pull yourself together."

"This is how I pull myself together." Your hands motioned around the room. "If I sit and do nothing all day, I'll lose my mind."

"Fair enough" Steve nodded in understanding, he was the same way. "Want to get started?"

"Yes please"

It took a bit for you to snap your mind into the proper mindset, but with a bit of guidance, Steve got you there. Once you were all in it, he had you practicing and improving skill sets he started teaching you last week.

About an hour and a half in, you were a hot mess. Your shirt quickly came off leaving you in just a sports bra and work out pants, your hair was tied back as sweat dripped down your face, and you were panting so much that all you wanted to do was lay out on the floor.

But this was typically how hard Steve pushed you, and that's why you loved him. You barely left your typical agent training procedures with a hair out of place. With him, you actually felt like you were making improvement.

The upbeat music and Steve's voice guiding you through how to maneuver in defense hardly even masked the sound of running footsteps down the echoing hallway.

Your commander poked his head into room to see Steve trying his hardest to punch and kick you, while you were moving tirelessly to try and block each attempt. As he watched you miss every single fist and foot, he couldn't help but to be impressed.

"306" He called out in a hurry.

You continued blocking Steve until he stopped, only then did you turn your head and stand tall at his order.

"Commander Bennett." You acknowledged, trying to catch your breath.

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers. We need 306 on an emergency deployment right now."

“Don't be sorry, it's okay." He acknowledged before looking at you. "Are you going to be alright?"

That question had too many layers to unpack at the moment. In general? Probably. After your break up? Maybe not. Going on a mission when you were already worn out? No, but you'd pretend like you were fine.

"Yeah, I'll be okay." You nodded, grabbing your shirt and pulling it back over your head.

"Good work today, we'll pick back up when you get home." He reached out for a high five which you happily accepted. "Stay safe."

"Will do, see you soon, Stevie." You slapped your hand against his.

"Get home quick, Bug." He smiled as you fast walked out of the room backwards. Commander Bennett already running down the hallway.

"Love ya!" You waved, your pretty smile sending a shockwave of physical pain through Steve's heart.

"Love you more" He smiled through the pain.

Then just like that, you slipped out of the door.

He waited until he could no longer hear your footsteps before quite literally back flopping onto the soft floor mats behind him, and took some long, deep breaths.

That little locked box that resides in the depths of his cold heart was desperately trying to work its way up. The contents of love for you inside of it was starting to ooze out of its seams, and you officially being back on the market after months of running back to the same man who was committed to breaking your heart on an endless loop wasn't helping.

He laid there with his eyes closed, letting the thick cushioned material cool his skin as he let the cold hard facts sink into his brain once more.

The only certainty was that he is your boss, your friend, and your own personal cushioned landing mat. He'd be there to catch you if you fell, he'd lend you a shoulder to cry on, and he'd help you get back up on your feet.

He was certain that you loved him as a friend, but he was most certain that he loved you more.

He would always love you more. More than you'll ever know, and more than he will ever tell you.

Next part: Wine and Dine

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers

Tag list is still open if you’d like to be apart of this bumpy ride 🌟

[konigsblog]

I need more of the rapist Ghostz what happens next? Does he moves to other women or focuses on the rookie

WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOUR, STALKING, RAPIST!SIMON. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, DARK FIC.

(YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY.)

simon was never one to focus on a specific person; he took whatever he could get. but, simon gradually found himself desperate, longing for the tightness of your gummy walls, how euphoric he felt with your drooling cunt tightening around his girthy shaft, drawing him in closer. he sighed deeply, clicking his pin while desperately trying to ignore his thick and stiffening boner, the way it twitched and throbbed whilst stuffed inside his tight boxers. he was glad you were drunk, not remembering a single thing; not the gruffness of his manchester accent, not his athletic, muscular and brute body type.

he always saw you training, trying to release all your built up rage from a failed mission. he could sense you weren't certain in the events — whether it was some sick nightmare, or some delusion you had whilst drunk. simon abruptly left his office, leaving behind paperworks apon paperworks just to fulfill his need with your precious cunt.

you are his rape meat; not a soldier, nothing but a pathetic loser to take his load.

you were getting changed out of your workout clothes, body hot and sweaty, your head pounding with a headache, a migraine. simon grabbed your body firmly, pulling you closer to him, before slamming you against the nearest wall. the door was locked shut, his large and calloused hand covering your mouth to silence your squeaks and terrified wails for help, sympathy, or mercy. your body felt weak as you fought him, his hands touching you all over as he rubbed and grinded himself back and forth against you. the smell of your arousal was delicious, your body forced to act upon his desires as he humped you.

simon's pocket knife cut your lace panties as he dragged it up your thigh, leaving you in your t-shirt, bare from the waist below. tears pooled in your waterline as he began fiddling with his fly and trousers, relieving himself by pushing deep inside your swelling cunny. your pretty, slick pussy throbbed and pulsed around his shaft, each thrust agonising while you cried out through pain and fear; your body shuddering with each hard movement. he grinded deep into you, panting beside your ear, his eyes closed and furrowed. god, you felt so good, the familiar texture of your walls absolutely and utterly addictive. how could he resist such a thing like you?

you're a stupid rookie; with your purpose being to serve your superiors the way they enjoy.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

This reminded me of a conversation I had with my friends once.

Bakugou is sick of you

Genre: fluff

Content: First I love yous but it’s fucking stupid lol

Katsuki was in the middle of his workout as usual, flexible limbs splayed methodically in the UA gym as he stretched for his cardio exercises. It was the middle of November, and as such he wanted to improve how quickly he could use his quirk in the cold.

Sweat was dripping down his porcelain face and he let out the occasional pant when he completed another round of sets before the shrill ding of his phone alerted him of a text. He was going to ignore it, fluffing out the sweaty strands of dandelion fluff that was stuck to his forehead until another ding sounded off.

Katsuki grunted in annoyance before his features softened at your dumb little nickname he definitely didn’t remember writing on his phone. (He wasn’t going to change it though).

My1AndOnly<3:

KATSUKI!!

KATSUKI COME QUICK!!

IM IN MY DORM, COME NOW!!

Katsuki physically felt his heart leap out of his ass as he towelled his face and ran for your dorm room. Sweat was flying off him as he ran like never before, even considering using his quirk. He sped past the many confused faces of his classmates as he bounded up the stairs to your familiar room.

He swung the door open violently, vermillion eyes trained to find you. Only to meet your confused eyes as you kicked your feet on your bed.

“Hi baby, are you ok- HEY!” You squeaked as Katsuki grabbed your face and forced you to stand up, twisting you every which way to look for an injury.

“Are you hurt?? Was there a villain?? Talk to me!!” He would not let you speak at all since your cheeks were uncomfortably smooshed in his grip.

“Babe, I’m fine. I just have something important to tell you,” you pried Katsuki off of you and stared at him intently. He was relieved that you were not hurt or dying but his heart was still pounding in his chest at your proclamation. He tentatively sat on your bed as you placed your hands on his shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Katsuki. You have breeding hips”.

…

….

…..

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?”

Katsuki screamed at you as his face turned bright red.

You nodded in earnest, loud guffaws erupting from you at your boyfriend’s face.

“It’s true Katsuki! You have the breeding hips that my ancestors would kill for! You would bare excellent children!” You couldn’t stop your laughter, peals of tears running down your face as Katsuki grabbed you and shook you back and forth.

“YOU FUCKING DUMBASS, YOU CUT MY WORKOUT SHORT BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO INSULT ME?!? I THOUGHT YOU WERE HURT YOU FUCKING DICK!” Katsuki roared in anger and embarrassment, face flushed bright red.

“BUT BABY, THAT’S A GOOD THING! YOU’RE LIKE ONE OF THOSE WOMEN SIR MIC-A-LOT RAPS ABOUT IN ‘BABY GOT BACK’! YOU’RE SO FEMININE!” Your lungs felt like they were on fire due to your laughing fit as Katsuki tried not to fucking explode you to shit.

“YOU’RE LUCKY I FUCKING LOVE YOU OR ELSE YOU’D BE DEAD!”

That made you pause in your tracks. Katsuki visibly stills as you try to maintain eye contact.

“Katsuki. Did you just-” you started before Katsuki interrupted you.

“NO! I DIDN’T SAY SHIT!”

“YES YOU FUCKING DID! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!” You squealed back as you dove in his arms.

“ARGH, SO WHAT IF I DID? ONLY THING THAT MATTERS IS IF YOU SAY IT BACK!” He fumed silently as you snuggled in closer to him. Of course the first ‘I love you’ would be over something fucking stupid.

“…do you feel the same? About me, I mean.” He mumbled, looking away. You pulled his face gently towards yours as you cupped his cheek and landed soft kisses on his softer skin.

“Of course I do you big dummy. I wouldn’t tell just anyone that they have the most curvalicious hips to ever grace my eyes,” you laughed into his cheek.

“Well then say it! Make it official so I’m not the only one sat here like a sap!” He mumbled angrily into your hair.

“Katsuki Bakugou, I love you, your sweaty gym clothes that are stinking up my dorm room, the sticky hair that is tickling my face and I also love your snatched waist,” you kissed him deeply before he could grumble about your last few words. It was a comfortable silence as you sat in Katsuki’s lap with your face buried into his neck.

“You’re free to use my shower if you want to baby,” you peeped from his neck. Katsuki let out a puff as he stared back down at you.

“Yeah, I’ll have to go get my shit from the gym though since SOMEONE thought it would be funny to scare the shit out of me,” he grumbled at you as you shifted himself out of his lap. You rolled your eyes at him when he started to leave, but not before irritating him with a quick:

“Little in the middle but she got much back”.

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

do you have any tips for subtly looking more masculine? I can’t fully transition now because I’m a minor in a confirmed to be transphobic household, and if you have any suggestions that would be amazing

Lee says:

You can try starting slowly incorporating more masculine-styled women's clothing into your wardrobe. This is usually a gradual process anyway since it can take time to save up enough money to purchase enough new shirts/pants/shoes etc. to fully replace your current wardrobe, especially if you're working part-time as a babysitter, dog-walker, etc.

Clothes that are more structured or straight-cut, like button-down shirts or straight-leg pants, can help create a more traditionally masculine silhouette. Layering with hoodies or jackets can also be effective. You can sometimes find these things styled as "boyfriend" clothes, and you can tell your parents that it's the current trend/style. You can see our post on finding masculine clothing in the women's section here.

Another easy change is dropping the accessories. That means not wearing feminine necklaces/earrings/bracelets/hairbands, not painting your nails, etc. It's easy to say you want to keep things basic and sporty and that's why you're going without the accessories. Wearing a neutral watch or a smart watch is another accessory to consider instead of a thin-strapped "women's watch" if you wear watches at all that is.

You can see our post on purse alternatives here since bags are often the biggest practical change in the accessory category. Not carrying a purse when you hang out with your friends in the mall, go out on a trip, etc is obviously a high-impact change to make.

If possible, choose a haircut that's more typically masculine. Shorter haircuts, or styles that are longer on the top and shorter on the sides, can subtly change your appearance. If you use a female reference for your photo when you show your parents what you want they may not suspect anything. You can see our post on convincing your parents to let you get a haircut without coming out here.

If a haircut isn’t possible, consider styles like pulling your hair back in a low bun or wearing hats. If you're Black, cornrows, box braids, and locs are styles that can be gender neutral depending on how you wear them. There's a few links on that here.

There are also things you can do to come across as subtly more masculine without buying anything at all.

Sometimes, adopting a more traditionally masculine posture and body language can make a difference. This doesn't usually have a big impact on passing, but it can help you feel better about yourself and boost your self-confidence and reduce dysphoria, and it's something that your family may not notice because it's easy to alter when you're with them. You can see a post about masculine body language here.

Similarly, you can try voice training and practice speaking in a slightly lower tone or in a more monotone style, which is often perceived as more masculine. Be careful not to strain your voice, though, and maybe avoid doing it while you're with your family. You can see a post about voice training here.

Engaging in exercises that build upper body strength can also help in achieving a more masculine physique. Focus on workouts that target the shoulders, back, and arms. You can often do body weight workouts at home in your room without needing a gym membership or specialized exercise equipment.

Find a support system, whether it's friends, online communities, or a counselor/therapist, who understand and support your gender identity. This can provide a safe space to express yourself and explore your identity. It can help to have other friends who are also masculine to feel like you're not isolated.

Observing and adopting some masculine behavioral cues, like how men typically occupy space or interact in social settings, can also be a subtle way to express masculinity, but you want to be careful that you're not imitating toxic masculinity / obnoxious guys. Similarly, engaging in hobbies or interests that are stereotypically masculine can be a subtle way to align with male peers, but always choose activities that genuinely interest you and you can probably find other guys out there who are also interested in the things you already care about to be friends.

The above suggestions are all things that you can do without your parents necessarily noticing. Binding is something that may not be subtle depending on your chest size, so while it is possible to sometimes bind in front of family without them noticing (saying it's a sports bra, for example) I would recommend keeping your binder in your backpack and only changing into it at school in the bathroom / at a friend's house / in a public bathroom when you're out with friends but not family, etc. unless you really are wearing only a single well-fitting sports bra. You can see more about buying a binder and that whole process in this post.

It's harder to be seen as masculine or male when you're pre-medical transition and not passing which means people often have to "overcompensate" by being more masculine than they would otherwise choose to be, but as always, I'd like to note that it can be possible to pass as male / be masculine while doing any of the things I recommended changing!

So while I might advise someone who wants to come off as more masculine "don't paint your nails" for example, that is a general rule and doesn't mean that you have to follow those guidelines if you're really passionate about painting your nails. You can always choose whatever gender expression you're comfortable with. There are plenty of guys who wear nail polish and otherwise come across as masculine or who are recognized as men. It's important to remember that masculinity is diverse and there's no one right way to be masculine.

Followers, any other tips on performing subtle masculinity that won't make transphobic parents suspicious?

[laraactive]

[nyxlaufeyson]

Doodles

Winter Masterlist - Loki Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

POV: Second

Ship: Loki x Reader

Type: Fluff, tiny bit of angst at the begining, bit of suggestive-ish content at the end

Info to know: This is a soulmate AU where anything your soulmate draws on their body shows up on you.

A/N: This my secret santa piece written for @catsladen!!! I hope you enjoy this piece, and happy holidays!!!

Loki had no idea how to tell you that he was your soulmate. It didn’t take long for him to figure it out once you showed up at the tower, but at first he just ignored it. He thought that soulmates were stupid, anyways, so he just didn’t say anything about it. 

However, as he got to know you a bit better, he wasn’t as opposed to the idea of you being his soulmate. You were intelligent, beautiful, and best of all, not afraid of him. But while he was fine with it, he doubted that you would be. You might be friends with him, but surely you would be opposed to being more than that.

So he didn’t tell you. He wore long sleeves to cover up the little flowers, hearts, and spirals that you drew on yourself to conceal the fact he was your soulmate. 

It was hard to conceal, especially on summer days, because you were always drawing on your arms. Ever the artist, which he admired about you. He could have used magic to conceal it, but to keep up a near-permanent spell altering his appearance would have been taxing. He still was not entirely sure how he normally appeared Asgardian instead of Jotun. Odin never told him. Plus, the little drawings made him happy.

While he didn’t acknowledge the fact you and him were soulmates, he still flirted with you. It was a harmless way to express affection in a way that might not tip you off. He was known to be flirtatious, so he could get things off his chest without you questioning it.

You would walk through the kitchen, in your workout clothes, sweaty from jogging or training. He would make a point to look you up and down, smirking. “You look delectable today, darling.” 

He would send you a wink, and you would roll your eyes while you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and flipped him off on your way out.

Harmless fun was Loki’s outlet, but little did he know how it affected you. While you didn’t know that you and Loki were soulmates, you still harbored a massive crush on him. But his flirting came across as just playful banter between friends, which hurt you.

You were sure that if you mentioned your feelings to him, he would laugh at you. So, like him, you would lose yourself in flirtations.

Back and forth the two of you went, completely ignorant to the other’s pining. Innuendos, pranks, and flirtations built up tension so thick that you would need a star-forged sword to cut through it.

Everyone else in the tower noticed it, too. They just rolled their eyes and walked away when they walked in on you being lightly pinned to the fridge by Loki. The only people who didn’t notice the clear yearning were you and Loki. 

The flirting was a regular routine. He would corner you against a wall, whispering something in your ear. You would act just a bit more sensually as you did workouts when he was around. He would flirt with other women to get you roused up. You would wear more revealing clothes to catch more attention from others, making him jealous.

Finally, one day, he got the courage to tell you about it. He set up a nice candlelight dinner and asked you to join him on the roof. When you did, you felt severely underdressed. You were in an everyday outfit, while Loki was wearing a suit. 

Your face went a little red. “Oh, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to dress up.” You said, eyes trailing to the table beside him that was lit with candles. 

Loki looked you up and down, getting nervous. “You weren’t.” He said, softly. “You look perfect as is.” 

Something about his ‘flirting’ was clearly off today. It felt much more real to you, which put you on edge. Loki walked up to you, taking your hand, and seating you at the table. “So, uh, did you want to talk about something?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Yes, how about we eat first?” He gestured to the food laid out before you, lots of your favorites, and you agreed. It was paired with fine wine, which was greatly appreciated.

He had it all planned out. As usual, there were doodles on his arms, pictures that you had drawn on your own flesh. After you both finished eating, he took a deep breath, and took his suit coat off. Your eyes immediately recognized the drawings on his arms, and your breath hitched.

Was this some kind of cruel joke? You rolled up your sleeve, putting your arm up to his in comparison. Each doodle was there on his arm, exactly as you had drawn it on your’s. 

“Loki, if this is some kind of joke…” You said, trying your best not to cry. Loki took your hand up in his, planting a gentle kiss. 

His eyes poured into yours. “I assure you that it is not. I have known for a while, but I was scared of rejection, and didn’t know how to tell you. If you don’t wish to have me as your soulmate, though, I understand and I will-”

You laughed. The sound startled him, and he could see relief in your face. “If I don’t wish to have you? Loki, I’ve been in love with you for like ever! If anything, I was worried you wouldn’t like me.”

With this new information, Loki widened his eyes. Had he really been that blind? He brushed that away for now, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Darling, you are the most beautiful and exquisite creature to ever exist. No one could compare to your charm, and you have managed to help mend my broken heart.”

A single, happy, tear slipped down his cheek. “With you, I feel complete. I feel whole. I never believed in soulmates, but after meeting you, I do. I couldn’t imagine a life without you.”

You sat there for a moment, utterly stunned. When you collected your wits, you grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him in for a kiss. It was slow and sweet, but rapidly became more heated. You accidentally knocked your wine glass over, and it spilled all over you. 

You broke away from the kiss, the cold wine dripping down your shirt and onto your chest. Loki smirked. “Well then, we should get back inside and get you changed. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we?” 

The both of you abandoned the table and took the elevator down to your room. During the short ride down, Loki couldn’t keep his hands off of you, trailing kisses down your neck. “Oh, darling, you have no idea how long I have fantasized about this for…”

You were sure he was leaving marks, but you couldn’t care less. As soon as the elevator opened, Loki picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him, letting him carry you to your room. Luckily, you made it there without interruption, and Loki stumbled into your room, setting you down on the bed. 

He locked the door, facing you and your dripping-wet shirt. “Now, let’s get rid of that shirt, shall we?”

Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

My taglist: @iceeericeee

[ferg0s]

“the king and the princess,” baro shoei x reader

| baro is bbygrl, argue w a wall |

I don’t edit my stuff my bad for any spelling mistakes

When Ego introduced you, Baro thought it was some elaborate prank. A messed up joke. He was promised the one of the star goalies in this generation, but instead he was met face to face with a kid.

She wasn’t a kid. His age probably. But the accessories, the makeup, the clothes. She looked like a reject Barbie. The pink in her clothes made his eyes hurt, and the sparky makeup made his stomach turn. He couldn’t comprehend how someone could leave the house looking like that, and why no one else seemed to be bothered by it.

As Ego went on, listing achievement after achievement, the girl looked at everyone with a smile, the apples of her cheeks glowing.

Baro was disgusted. All is life he’s trained, kept a strict diet and workout regime, only to be presented a failed art project and he told its better than him. Pathetic. “It is woman’s league,” he thought to himself.

He refused to go near her, feeling some sort of sinking gut feeling whenever he saw her - he assumed it was his natural instincts telling him to stay away, like a animal spotting a poisoning dart frog, the vibrant colours warning it - trying his best to not comprehend the fact that maybe he was jealous. Jealous that someone can put so little effort into something and still come out on top. The world is a cruel unfair place, he thought she watched her walk into the cafeteria.

But despite avoiding her like the plague, he began to notice small details about her. How she looked disgusted eating the food every day. Looking over it seemed to be a very well balanced diet, albeit a little lacking in the flavour department, but something an athlete would definitely benefit from. How she’d always show up on the field with a face full of makeup, never managing to sweat it off - he was convinced she had it permanently put on her face at some point - and how even when everyone was relaxed, slacking and slouching, she always came dressed. Primed and polished. A part of him respected her commitment, her effort to stay clean, but a part found it unnatural.

The thing that really weirded him out was how she’s show up in fully body uniform. Only part that wasn’t covered was her face - if you don’t count the makeup- the goalie gloves, the uniform and the clothing under it. He found it off considering women usually don’t Cover as much - “it looks good, I’ll give her that,” he thought as he watched at the net.

He never stuck around to watch her play. He was a king, he didn’t have time for some princess.

It was 4am when Baros eyes opened. Natural alarm clock. He got up and began his routine. Shower, eat, stretch and then workout. He looked forward to his morning shower, because he knew that no one would disturb him. The rest didn’t wake up until an hour or two later. Grabbing his gear he headed towards the bathroom - the bathroom he assumed was for men since there was only men at blue lock - he walked in to find that the air was already moist and some light steam filled the bathroom.

Caught off guard by this, Baro began to look around for who was up so early, wondering if the rest of the boys had decided to step up. As he walked past the several shower stalls he passed by the main mirror in the bathroom, his eyes landing on an unfamiliar body. It was her. Hair wet, towel wrapped around her body as she stared at herself in the mirror. Baro froze. Wondering if he was in the wrong bathroom - but he had never noticed a male or female sign - and as he collected himself to go wait for her to be finished his eyes caught the glimpse of a dark spot on her calf.

Looking closely he realized it was a bruise. A bad one. His eyes wondered her form, realizing that is the first time he had ever seen anything past her face. Though she was turned around, he could see the multiple bruises and scratches across her body. Her legs covered, a bad scratch marks from some cleats going from the back of her calf to the front. Her arms weren’t any better. As she moved them around, they occasionally came into view, showing the damage on them. He couldn’t help but stare, awed at the sight before him. And then she turned around. She didn’t notice him, too busy fighting with a bottle in her hand. He saw her face. Her naked face. The eye bags were visible, something he’d never seen before. She looked… tired. After seeing her so lively, so energetic, it felt wrong seeing her with a somber, more quiet expression.

He leaned back against a shower stall, hiding himself. He watched her. For the first time since seeing her he finally realized that she was an athlete. Wrapping bandaged around herself, getting her uniform and putting it on. For a second before she reached in her makeup bag she looked… serious, scary almost. That was quickly changed when she began to apply her makeup. Her entire demeanour changed, her features became more soft, the athlete he saw before turned into a kindergarten gym teacher.

The finished look he once winced at felt more… endearing. It grew on him.

~

The next time he saw her was on the field, going some basic stretches.

“Oi,” he called out, her cocking her head towards him. “Try to block my shots,” Baro said. His way of extending an olive branch. The girl nodded and went over to the net, getting in position. Baro started off easy, even she could tell earning a “If you’re going to waste my time, fuck off,” from her. She didn’t play around, he liked that. But that soon turned into frustration when he actually began to try.. and still couldn’t get a goal in. It was like she read his mind before he could even kick the ball - by the end they were both panting. With all his might Baro aimed for the bottom left of the net, but yet again she was there and blocked the goal, with her face but still she blocked it. The loud slapping sound of the ball against her skin echoed across the field.

She remained motionless for a second. His face remained stoic, but inside he began to panic as she didn’t move, letting out a breath of relief when she began to sit up. That’s when he saw the imprint of the ball on her cheek. “That was good!” She chirped, excited. Standing up she rolled the ball back to Baro, who tried his best to ignore the half lipstick stain on the ball.

King or Princess. Royalty is Royalty. And there’s a reason you have that title.

[gingerminx75]

Consequences. Part 1

With my new shape comes new attention. Catcalls that I never heard before. The hotter weather means shorter shorts and a minimal tank top. I am not dressing for them, I am dressing for me. It appears that the men in my neighbourhood didn’t get that memo. My schedule too tight for me to vary when I run, and not wanting to drive, where I run. It’s safe to say I have become predictable.

The calls are becoming more difficult to ignore. Shouts of, “leave your door open, I know where you live”. Them “accidentally” blocking my path and leaving me stammering as I ask them to move. As I blush and lower my gaze, they laugh at me, reminding me that I am smaller, weaker and regardless of my running, slower.

I return home and while soaking in a nice hot salt bath a see an advertisement on my feed. Women’s self defence classes. This might be exactly what I need. An opportunity to learn how to defend myself and hopefully gain the confidence to put these guys in their place.

Unfortunately the course is not local, but there is a one week condensed program. I can take a week off work, have a mini vacation and return a who new person.

I contact the instructor, he seems a bit aloof, but that should not matter. I just need him to teach me how to defend myself. As a retired LEO, he should have a lot of experience with deviant minds and how they pick their prey.

I pack, excited for my adventure. Shoes, running shorts (but not too short), white tank top and white cotton panties. Just in case the class doesn’t wear me right out I pack a few casual clothes and my favourite little black dress.

My flight was uneventful, arriving in the south it’s a bit warmer than I am used to, but very beautiful. I’m glad I didn’t bring sweat pants, I will sweat enough as it is.

As I was travelling to attend the course, he had kindly offered to pick me up at the airport and take me to my hotel. A short cab ride in the morning and we will begin.

I was pleasantly surprised by his appearance. 6’2, piercing eyes and wonderful broad shoulders. He watched me approach, quietly confident. No smile, yet he didn’t appear displeased. His commitment to fitness was evident. I can only hope my training is as thorough.

I get to bed early, get up, quick shower and a light breakfast. Before I leave my room, I do a quick turn around and like what I see. Simple, comfortable but practical.

I go outside and have to take a few pictures, the landscape, even within the city is so pretty. I am not used to the hills, but it might help my conditioning. I turn to look back at the hotel to see if my cab has arrived, but to my surprise I see my instructor.

He explained to me that the other two participants had canceled, and I could reschedule or train one on one. I couldn’t rationalize travelling and taking time off twice, and while he was slightly intimidating, I really wanted to do this.

I hopped in his car, and after a short while we arrived at his house. With the lack of students, he explained that we would use his garage gym, rather than rent an area. Odd, but logical.

The gym was well setup, primarily free weights, with a few machines. The best part was the wide open door and quietly humming fans that kept the space fresh and comfortable. His house being set back from the road, and nicely treed, we were able to keep music playing and not disrupt the neighborhood.

We quickly got to work. Physical assessment first. Taking my measurements, testing my flexibility. Gently, but firmly assisting me to get the fullest stretch. Next came the weights. Setup so that I wasn’t working to failure, but able to complete ten good reps. Form being more important than moving a heavy load. He explained to me that if I don’t push myself and find out what I’m capable of, I will never know my limitations. That knowing what I can handle is the best way to boost my confidence.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but his “warmup” felt a lot like my workout. A quick break for water while we discussed the day’s workout.

Weights first, then an introduction to hand to hand training. The weights progressively heavier, as I grew tireder. Quickly and sharply corrected, I quickly realized that there was one right way to do things…. His way.

I appreciated the attention to detail, even as some as the criticism stung. I wanted to do well, I just didn’t know what to do. Frustrated with my failures. He didn’t appear to notice, continuing to correct me as he saw fit.

Watching me squat. Nudging my feet into proper position. Slightly wider. Toes out. Correcting the arch in my back with a firm hand. Close enough that his voice sounded like a whisper in my ear. “Yes, that’s it”. “Deeper now”.

That simple affirmation, after so many struggles, felt so good. Re-energized, I wanted more. I wanted his praise. Trying extra hard, legs starting to tremble as I descend. Him gently supporting the weight and allowing me to collect myself. Taking away his support feels like the weight doubled as I rise. The pause at the bottom ruined the momentum. I struggle to return to my start position. This time he allows me to struggle. For the first time, I see a hint of a smile.

I rack the weights and catch my breath. He leads me to the bench press. I assume the position. Feet flat, legs parted. Squared up to the bar. Standing behind me, he helps me unrack the weight. Light enough to not need a spotter yet, he stands and the end of the bench. Watching, guiding me with simple instructions. I’m concentrating on my technique, but distracted by his voice. I like it.

His whole demeanour authoritative, but confident. Self assured, with no need to be cocky. Quite obviously used to giving directions, rather than taking them. We watches me, arms crossed over his chest. Unintentionally showing off those gorgeous arms.

I don’t notice that he is watching me too. Watching both my form and my reactions. Watching my shorts ride up a bit as my back arches. Careful to stay in contact with the bench, unaware that my shorts have adjusted. The white cotton of my panties gleaming against the black silkiness of my shorts. Legs rolling outward, the damp spot on my panties that very likely isn’t sweat.

———-

I finish the set, get up and adjust my clothes. Riding up and exposing more than I’d like. Ready to wrap up for the day, I’m ready to go back to my room and relax.

My day isn’t over yet though, on the drive back to the hotel I receive a stern lecture about the importance of situational awareness. Learning to unconsciously scan my surroundings for threats. Being aware of what is present, and what can hurt me. I have been accused of being naive before. I want to believe that people are not all bad. And that kindness is not weakness.

Back in my room, I slowly strip. Enjoying the tightness of my hard worked muscles. Enjoying the sheen of sweat. Shyly wishing that someone was there to taste it. Running a bath, sipping a glass of wine. Strolling lazily around my room. Not a care in the world.

Morning arrives too early and I am outside and waiting before he arrives. Dreading the workout to come, but looking forward to it at the same time. I expect to see changes in myself by the end of the week. Wondering if anyone else will notice as well.

He picks me up, and today drives in the opposite direction of his home. I enjoy the scenery and wonder where we are off to. He pulls into a gorgeous wooded drive. Parks the car and takes two water bottles from the backseat.

I follow curiously as he walks down the path. His steps longer than mine, I have to run/walk to keep up. No small talk, no wasted energy. A man on a mission, but unwilling to share the plan with me.

We pass the free space area of the park and enter the trail system. Here he gets a bit more talkative. Asking me what I’m seeing, what I’m feeling and telling me to let him know if I get nervous. The last question seems odd. I don’t imagine anyone bothering us, not with his size and demeanour.

Today’s workout involves functional strength. Dead arm hangs from convenient overhanging branches. Some too tall for me to reach. He easily boosts me up and helps me down.

Hill climbing, wind sprints, pushups and skip rope. Oddly thrilled with the praise for something especially well done. The day is hard, but enjoyable. The sunshine, the dedicated attention of someone willing to help me grow better and stronger.

He seems very concerned for my comfort, always checking in to make sure that I am okay. Making sure that I am not afraid. As the day draws on, he seems almost frustrated with my answers. I’m not afraid, I am enjoying the adventure. I’m learning, I am growing and I am having a great time. This day is everything I wanted and more.

We stop to break a water break and sit in a lightly shaded clearing. I take a moment to rub a cramp out of my shoulder. I’m beginning to feel the effects of the past days’ efforts. He suggests that I sit up straight, back against the tree. Reaching my arms up high above my head. He stands in front of me, awkwardly close. Taking both my wrists in one hand and helping me stretch. It feels so good as the tension rises, then is released.

One more stretch he says, this time raising me to my feet. Arms up stretched above my head. Pulling me onto my tip toes. When I expected him to of release the pressure and let me down, he asked once more, “what are you feeling?”, “are you afraid?” I answer again, “I am nervous, but safe. I feel safe with you”.

Instead of reassuring him, I see a flash of anger across his face. He grips my wrists tighter and lifts me, dangling from his grip. He leans into me, pressing my body against the rough bark of the tree. Whispering in my ear, “you don’t understand, it’s me you should be afraid of”.

[mellowsadistic]

“Time to check your diaper, sweetheart,” Daddy’s voice came from behind me.

I huffed and rolled my eyes. I was right in the middle of my workout routine! “Dadddyyy! If I needed a change, I would have asked for one!”

I blushed a little at the babyish tone of my voice. Since when had I started whining like that? I made a mental note to make sure I always spoke like the mature, adult woman I was. Other girls became total babies when their boyfriends diaper trained them, speaking in lisping baby-talk and letting themselves be dressed in ridiculous toddler clothes (if they got to wear anything at all over their nappies), but that wasn’t going to happen to me. Daddy actually thought he was going to make me lose my bladder and bowel control and turn me into some diaper-dependent loser! Frankly, if any girl let herself become incontinent then she deserved to be treated like a big, dumb baby.

‘Don’t be fussy, little one. Daddy has to check you. Babies can’t be trusted to know the state of their diapers.”

I pouted, but allowed Daddy to tug down my leggings and slip two fingers into the leg-band of my nappy.

“Such a silly little girl!” he laughed. “You’re soaked, princess!”

I felt a horrible shiver run down my spine. “No!” I squealed. “I’m not… I didn’t…” But I suddenly realised that my nappy did feel strangely squishy. In disbelief, I pulled my leggings away and peered at it, prodding it with my fingers. I gasped. It was full of pee-pee!

This couldn’t be happening! It had only been a few weeks since my diaper training started! I thought back, trying to remember when I’d wet myself. I recalled feeling a sudden warmth in my pants when I was doing my sit-ups, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It had just become so normal for my nappy to be a little soggy…

“I’m not a baby!” I cried, looking up at Daddy desperately. “I don’t want to be like them!” I was thinking of the women who acted like overgrown babies, toddling about in nothing but their full diapers, bare breasts bouncing freely, drooling around their thumbs and babbling in baby-talk, all their dignity, independence, and modesty gone.

“It’s okay, darling,” Daddy soothed. “You’ll get used to your new life. Don’t worry.” He removed my shoes and socks, and slid my leggings off, leaving me in only my diaper below the waist. His eyes moved to my chest. “And I’ve told you before, little one,” he said, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra. “You don’t need this while you’re at home.” He pulled my bra off me, letting my sizeable breasts spill out. “Daddy likes to see your pretty boobies, baby."

“Yes Daddy,” I whimpered. I felt too defeated to fight him. “Please may I have a diaper change?”

“Not just yet, sweetie. You’re only wet. Daddy will change you after you go poo-poo.”

I sobbed, but nodded.

“Now sweetheart,” he went on, “I don’t think press-ups and squats are an appropriate workout routine for a little girl who can’t even tell when she’s wet her diaper. Daddy’s got something else for you instead, another way to get all your energy out.” He held up a DVD and went to kneel down by the television.

After a few moments, the screen came to life. It was an interactive, toddler-style sing-along show, complete with dance moves for the viewer to follow along with. Only, the dancers on the screen weren’t toddlers. The people prancing about ridiculously were fully grown women. They were wearing short, frilly dresses that barely reached below their bottoms, or else they were dressed, like I was, in nothing but their diapers. There were quite a few pairs of bare breasts bouncing around madly as the girls waved their arms and shook their padded bottoms to the music.

Even as I watched, one of the topless girls stopped dancing suddenly. She fell into a squat and starting grunting and straining. The seat of her nappy drooped as she filled her pants like a giant baby, then she hitched a dumb grin back onto her face and resumed her dancing as if nothing had happened, dirty diaper jiggling about between her legs.

I stared at the screen in horror. This was supposed to be my new workout routine?! I opened my mouth to shriek and complain, but Daddy delivered a sharp smack to my bottom. “Time to start dancing, baby. Be a good girl or Daddy will have to give you a bare-bottom spanking.”

Tears of shame in my eyes, self-conscious of my wet diaper and jiggling bare breasts, I started to dance, copying the moves of the women on screen, knowing I was well on the way to becoming just like them.