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goldsbitch · 2 days

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Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot #formula 1 smut

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satanghulu · 17 hours

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pact marks pt 3

✦ CAST: satan, asmo, beel, belphie ✦ SUMMARY: brothers’ reaction to you hiding your pact marks ✦ WARNING: urm the twins’ part got slightly angsty, mentions of lesson 16! ✦ WC: 2.7K

[PART 1] | [PART 2] | [PART 3] | MASTERLIST

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Satan

Satan hates that the mark is gone but tries to play it cool to get back into your good books.

The sound of the door slamming made Satan snap his head up, watching as you stomped your way in somehow avoiding all the books strewn on the floor, even in your anger-induced haze.

“Well, seems like someone’s having a great day,” He sounded bemused, slotting a bookmark into the page of his current read. He could feel the flicker of wrath calling out to him as the rim of your eyes flashed green.

You planted your hands on your hip and hissed, “Why didn’t you tell me?” The furrow between your brows told him that you were angry but it didn’t take a genius to figure that part out. But at this juncture, he couldn’t tell if it was directed towards him or yourself.

“Tell you what, my dear?” A bewildered Satan sat up straight, inching his thighs open as you forcefully made a space for yourself. The intensity of your gaze only made him more confused as you huffed again in exasperation.

“That pact marks could be hidden!” You whisper-screamed as you peered at his expression, frowning when you didn’t see the hint of realisation you wanted. Instead, you let out a loud groan, bringing a hand up to pinch the tip of his ear as your form of punishment.

“Ow--Hands off!” Satan smacks your hand, rubbing at his ears woefully. He watches as you lean past him to pick up his novel with a contemplative look as if you wanted to throw the book at the wall.

He pauses, waiting for your next move. With a disgruntled air, you slid the book further away on his bed as you took its place beside him. Satan continues to examine your expression thoughtfully, the gears turning in his head as he slowly shifts his head up. A strand of blond hair falls from where it was tucked behind his ears, and you resist the urge to move it out of the way.

‘Wait. Come again?’ His thoughts came to a screeching halt when he finally processed your words.

“Solomon taught you.” He said, his words sounding more like a statement rather than a question, to which you replied snappily with who else?. He turned to appraise your appearance to which you held his stare, unphased.

Damnit, he was hoping that you wouldn’t have found out about it just yet.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You narrowed your eyes, bottom lip jutting out in frustration as you wagged a finger at him accusingly.

He couldn’t bear to see your angry expression towards him any longer. Satan grabs your finger gently, bringing it to his lips as he lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Can’t a demon want to see his mark on you?” For added dramatics, he flutters his lashes while giving your finger another kiss. Immediately, your face flushed red as you tried to jerk your hand out of his grip.

Satan holds onto you tighter. His touch travels up your arm to grab you by the shoulder, pulling you into his space. “Dislike it?” He murmurs into your ear, noting that it has turned red. You timidly shake your head, resolutely not uttering a word.

Although he finds it a shame that he couldn’t see your expression.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it…” You said with a small voice, face buried in Satan’s shoulder. You were unwilling to show him your face, slightly annoyed that he had won over your anger so easily.

“Well,” Satan pulls you back to give you a sullen stare. “It’s not like I made any pacts before and magic tends to affect everyone differently.”

(It was the half-truth, kinda. But pact marks are always able to be hidden, no matter the person. But he wasn’t going to tell you that.)

You gave him a long look, searching his face for any tells of a lie.

“Fine. I’ll take it as you didn’t know this time.” You relaxed your posture, slinking into his hug. “But, next time--“

“There will be no next time, love.”

(There absolutely will be.)

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Asmo

Asmo would be the most understanding, second to Beel. This would largely be because he already has a pact with Solomon. Also, he understands that sometimes the marks could ruin the aesthetic of a particular outfit but still? He just thinks you look so pretty with it.

The feeling of cold fingers on your back trailing up your back gives you a fright, as you turn to smack the perpetrator. Thankfully, your reflexes were fast enough to stop the stack of paper from flying at his face.

“Babe!” Asmo whines, giving you a hurt stare. “What would you do if you hurt this perfect face?” He brings an elegant finger up to the side of his face, showing off his porcelain skin as the light hits at the right angle.

You flicked his nose.

“Do you need me now?” You questioned, gesturing at your pile of paperwork in front of you. Mammon had dumped all of the bills on you before fleeing in the direction of RAD, as Levi chases behind him right after.

You assume that he wouldn’t be back in the house for the night at least, to evade Levi’s scrutiny. Thus, you had started sorting the bills to at least, lessen his workload so that Lucifer wouldn’t whoop both of your asses. (Despite Mammon being your caretaker.)

A manicured hand taps on your thigh, demanding your attention.

“Pay attention to me.” The Avatar of Lust is stunning as always, a pout plastered on his face as he grouses cutely. You chuckle and shove the paperwork aside, Mammon be damned. He could do his own paperwork and you had a much cuter distraction right in front of you.

“Yes, honey?” You match his tone, locking your fingers with his as he continues to tap on your thigh incessantly like a peacock flaunting its feathers. “I wanna see my pact mark.” A glint in his eye shines, a bright smile playing on his lips.

You sigh.

“So that’s why you were touching my back.” He nods at your statement, a perfect eyebrow arched as if to ask you what’s wrong with it.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you turn and lift your shirt slightly to give Asmo a better view. You try not to flinch as his cold fingers sweep past the area where the mark was supposed to be.

A hum comes from behind you. Asmo tugs your shirt down, giving you a tap on your back to indicate he is done with his little inspection.

“Satisfied?” You asked as you arranged your shirt properly.

“Maybe if you go au naturel, I’ll be able to have a better look.” This time, Asmo’s lips curled into a grin as his head tilted to the right suggestively. You let out a chuckle, patting his shoulder. “Next time, buddy.”

A thought crosses your mind as you stop in your motion.

“You’re not…unhappy?” Asmo cocks his head to give you a contemplative look, not saying anything. A flutter of motion catches your eye as he suddenly leans in to press a kiss on your cheek, leaving a trail of delicate sweetness in his wake.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ as he stood up, patting your head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” A graceful hand wraps around your wrist as he tugs you up, beckoning you to follow him.

“Come on, it’s self-care day today!” He cheered, lifting your arm up above your head and bumping your hip hard with his.

You grinned. Typical Asmo.

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Beel

Beel would definitely be the most understanding. He gets your reasoning if you want to cover it up. Though, he is still a demon. He will have this nagging feeling that something is wrong but he’s not sure why.

“Beel?” You padded softly into the kitchen, yawning as you rubbed your eyes. The kitchen’s lights were turned low but the refrigerator’s door was wide open, the dim light still hurting your cornea.

Only the sound of crunching answers you as the demon was too transfixed with the leftovers from dinner. You had made human-world food today, feeling homesick and craving for a pick-me-up. As always, Beel had made his stance known about the food. But, he must have really liked it. (At least much more than you had presumed.) The fridge was completely devoid of your cooking, the usual snacks he ate for supper untouched.

You had also made much more than the usual portions because you intended to bring it to RAD to let everyone try it. Well, you should have known. Though, you really had made extras of extras…

“Oh.” Beel waved his hand at you, finally noticing your presence. He hurriedly swallowed whatever was in his mouth and beamed at you happily. “You’re still up?”

You nodded, finally remembering what you had initially come here to do. “Water.” Your voice was scratchy as Beel sent you a thumbs-up before continuing to consume his supper.

You squeezed past him to grab your glass and the water pitcher. After quenching your thirst, your eyelids no longer felt heavy and instead, you now felt wide awake. Still holding your glass of water, you headed to where Beel was sitting and hopped on top of the counter beside him.

“Want some?” He offered his spoon to you, motioning for you to take a bite. You shake your head, telling him that you have already finished your night routine. Both of you sit in silence, the sound of Beel’s chewing fading into white noise.

The steady cacophony of Beel’s chewing slows your thoughts and just as you were about to doze off--

“Hey.”

You startle awake, sleepy eyes searching for the source of the voice. “Oh, were you about to sleep?” Beel looks apologetic, large hand flying up to move your head to lean on his shoulder. In a daze, you grabbed his hand instead as you tried to blink the sleep away.

“It’s fine. Is there something you need?” You yawned, letting go of Beel’s hand in favour of covering your mouth. He shakes his head solemnly. Yet his face was pinched, as if something was bothering him.

You wondered if he had gotten into an argument with Belphie. However, you recall they were just fine during dinner, and knowing Beel, he would be more upset if so. He also couldn’t have possibly gotten into any tiffs with the brothers seeing as you didn’t hear a single peep from them.

“Are you worried about something?” You asked softly, hand placed over his to give him some reassurance.

He shakes his head.

You had an inkling the matter was plaguing him was involving you. But the only change so far was the pact marks. Oh, the pact marks.

“Is it the pact marks?”

Beel stiffens up as if he was caught doing something wrong. You continue to wait patiently, rubbing your thumb in a circle over his.

“Kind of.” He admits, avoiding your gaze. “It’s just that… You cooking human-world food and then hiding the pact marks. It feels like you’re…” He looks away, unable to continue.

“I’m leaving?” You finished his sentence, lifting three fingers to grasp his chin carefully.

He nods, sighing. “I know you won’t and it’s irrational.” He turns to look at you with a strong gaze, lower lip trembling slightly. “Can we stay here for a while?”

You lean into his touch, Beel instinctively wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course.”

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Belphie

Opposite of his twin. He hates that the mark is gone yet he wouldn’t be able to say anything much seeing as the mark manifested around your neck, reminiscent of the time he gave you a tight hug.

Belphegor’s been avoiding you lately.

It’s impossible not to notice the sudden distance he puts between both of you. This doesn’t mean to say he goes out of his way to make you feel unwelcome; rather he goes out of his way to be polite to you.

At breakfast, he sits two seats away from you. He passes you the cutleries when you ask, hands never touching you. He scampers off to class with Satan as soon as he is done. It’s Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth; when has he ever been known to be punctual?

Yet for all his aloofness, he comes into your dreams every night. He watches you – he sits at the edge of your vision, chin on his palm as his tail swishes calmly behind him. But you wake up in your own bed with your heart thrumming with confusion and affection, all the same. Sometimes, it feels as if he observes you in reality too.

It was frustrating.

You don’t want to force the youngest out of his comfort zone to talk about his feelings but it was starting to get ridiculous. He’s thousands of years older than you and he can’t even bear to talk about his own feelings?

You huffed.

You’ve made up your mind to talk to him but he’s as slippery as an eel when determined. When Belphegor wants to hide, no one should be able to find him. Well, except for one person.

“Where is he?” You dug out a burger from your backpack – you had stopped by Hell’s Kitchen after an unsuccessful search in RAD. Beel pauses around his mouthful of food, scrutinising the outstretched offering in your hand.

“Rooftop.” He glances hesitantly at your expression. “Please take care of him.” You nod, shoving the burger into the pile of food beside him. You pretend not to take notice of the underlying meaning in his words.

You climb the stairs to the twins’ room, footsteps echoing softly in the silence of the house. The rightmost window was wide open, the cold breeze making you shiver in your pajamas. You stick your head out of the window, noticing there is no path up. Belphegor must have flown up in his demon form. Was he that desperate to avoid you?

Quietly, you muttered a levitation spell; sending vibrations through the air as you swayed unsteadily.

Imagination. Imagination. Imagination.

Slowly, the spell stabilised and a sense of pride twinged in your heart. You gently landed on the roof, spotting the tell-tale sight of Belphegor’s cowprint from the back. The wind nipped at your nose as you walked over, a chill running through you.

Both of you sit in silence.

“The Pool of The Abyss is out tonight.” He lifts a finger to point at the sky, gaze trained upwards. Humoring him, you turn to look at the night sky – the stars glittering in the endless abyss, a stunning sight that takes your breath away each time.

“Are you going to continue pretending?”

His breath hitches as he stays quiet. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, your hands falling to your side as you bite your tongue to let him think. His tail lashes back and forth, catching your attention.

“I’m sorry.” He bites out.

You shift closer, finally seeing your chance of reconciliation. “What are you apologising for?” Your nightwear flutters in the wind and Belphegor gestures for you to lean into him.

“Everything.” He sighs wearily. “The-” You rub soothing circles on his left thigh, as his tail curls around your middle to provide warmth. “The incident and just. Everything.”

“It’s--“

“Don’t say it’s okay.” He cuts you off, frowning as the tail tightens just a little. “It’s not. You know that.”

You nod.

“I got reminded of it when I saw the mark was gone.” He pauses again, moving to place his head on your shoulder, seemingly to avoid your stare. “I just wonder how much of a better life you would have if you never came to the Devildom.”

You bring your hand up to touch your neck – your skin doesn’t feel any different to the touch with or without the pact marks. Closing your eyes, the magic buzzes in the air as you undo the spell hiding your pact marks. Belphegor craned his neck to watch the movement, face twisted as though the mark sullied your skin.

Belphegor takes a deep breath as he reaches out to touch you.

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a/n ▸ the path to forgiveness isnt always linear! Satan - on your temple Asmo - tramp stamp Beel - below your navel belphie - front of neck…………where he strangled u lol On a side note, the lnd men has been populating my fyp too much. I believe asmo smells like peaches (thank u bee for the idea), it suits his colour scheme so much. (ALSO, if you know how prada candy smells like, yeah i associate that with him) I also wholly contemplated making reader summon belphie when he was hiding from them just for shits and giggles. also this isn’t my fav but it’s been marinating in my drafts for weeks so imma js post it LOLZ

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nagaparadise · 3 days

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Forest Guardian with a darling thats embarrassed to admit having a breeding kink?

"Um...Forest Guardian? Can I ask you something?" you mumble as you sheepishly approach your beloved naga, idol, and world.

"Anything, my love," the Forest Guardian replies, his gentle and candid golden eyes watch you with adoration and slight worry. "Is something wrong? Please, relieve yourself of your worries," he replies, taking your hands in his to calm your slight fidgeting.

"No, nothings wrong, it's just that," you find it hard to hold eye contact with him as your eyes dart around the emerald trees, and your body heat rises as you try to push out your words. "I-I... When we fuck... J-just please breed me!" you finally manage to blurt out your request. Initially the Forest Guardian is taken aback by your request, but his mind quickly processes it, and his gentle smile spreads over his lips.

"My love," he says between amused chuckles. "There's no need to be embarrassed! I would love nothing more than to breed you, to fill you with my sweet nectar. In fact," he trails as he pulls you closer to him, moving his hands from yours to your hips and settling your entrance over his widening slit, already pushing out his twin cocks. "Why don't we start now?"

You're quick to remove whatever clothing you have left, and his immediately spring from his slit. The Forest Guardian gently cushions your back with his cool tail, scales rubbing along your spine as he towers over you, then quickly dives into your already wet hole. He starts with one cock first, gently stretching you to prep you for his second. Your breaths mingle as he softly pounds you, stopping just inches before your desired spot.

"I-I'm ready... Please fill me," you gasp, already undone and yearning for his nectar. The Forest Guardian is surprised that you're prepared so quickly, and can't help but chuckle at your eagerness. He squeezes his second cock along his first, the friction and delicious stretch in your hole forcing a moan of delight from your lips. His thrusts become deep, relentless, yet somehow gentle, as he delves into your warm hole, his ridges licking every nerve along your wall. Your brain shuts down, and your fingers dig into his tail while you bounce along it and arch your back into his body, hoping to feel every last inch of his cock inside you. His fingers clench around your thighs, and strands of his emerald hair poke out from his loose ponytail and cascade over his shoulder as his body twitches sporadically, signaling that his climax is near.

Your heart leaps into your chest, anticipating his sweet nectar, and with a couple of deep thrusts and a drawn out groan, the Forest Guardian releases his honeyed cum into you, pushing his cocks all the way to the base, and opening his ridges to prevent any of his seed from spilling. Your labored breaths mingle as he lowers himself onto your body, lathering his tongue over your neck, breasts, then tracing it over your lips, pulling you into a deep kiss.

"You look gorgeous filled with my cum," the Forest Guardian murmers after he pulls away from his kiss, and traces his fingers over your slightly bloated stomach. "I can't wait to fill you with more."

#smut #exophilia #terato #naga #monster x reader #naga x reader #guardian post

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 days

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I LOVE PRESSURE‼️‼️ SEBASTIAN IS MY LOVE FOREVER‼️‼️

Pls kind soul, perchance feed us with some hcs. Reader stumbled into sebastians lil room all injured and cut up with Pandemonium on their tail.

You didn't get Pandemonium at Door 30.

But you did hear it somewhere between Door 49 and 50, right around the area where Sebastian's shop resided.

It spotted you while underwater, and every locker you looked at had a Puddle of Void Mass already occupying it.

So basically--as the cool kids would say--you were cooked.

Pandemonium was fast, but somehow you were fast enough to swim up to Sebastian's shop, and after he initially welcomed you....he was confused at your panic as you threw your mask up and begged him to hide you.

Until he recognized the screeches that were growing louder and louder, managing to hide you somewhere just as the source clawed its way inside.

But it lost sight of you.

There was only Sebastian, who looked crossed (and quite disgusted) at the creature that was looking around with its many eyes.

"Your prey ran somewhere else. Now get your stench out of my shop. It's tainting the merchandise." He warns.

As animalistic as Pandemonium is, it's still capable of reason and is aware that he freed it from containment, and so it takes its leave.

Only when he's certain it's gone does he move his tail, allowing you to go free and properly bandage the injuries you've gotten from some turrets.

"Th-Thanks, Sebas--"

"You lead that abomination into my shop again..and I'll personally feed you to it on a silver platter. Are we clear?"

"Wha...it wasn't on purpose! I had no lockers to hide in!"

"Well that must suck for you. Although I'm impressed you managed to outswim it." He remarked. "Not many can say they have."

"..why are you worried about its stench "tainting" anything? This whole place reeks of......." You stop yourself, seeing him subtly reach for his shotgun.

"Go on."

"..nah, I think I'll just..buy some stuff."

"Good choice."

#clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #roblox pressure x reader #pressure x reader #sebastian solace #pandemonium #headcanons #platonic

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lila-lou · 3 days

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✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 3✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! just a little smutty, Language, age gap, angst, violence

Word Count: 6085

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

“Look… if you ever need anything”, Jack began, his voice quieter now, almost unsure, “you know where to find me. I mean, we live right across from each other, so… just knock”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting the offer, but you smiled warmly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Jack. Thanks”.

As you disappeared inside, Jack let out a slow breath, leaning back in his seat. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all—the conversation, the connection, the way you had made him feel a little less closed off. He hadn’t expected to find himself here, feeling… something again. But there it was, stirring quietly beneath the surface.

Eventually, with a shake of his head, Jack turned off the truck’s engine and stepped out into the cool night air. He locked the truck behind him and made his way toward the entrance of the building, his boots echoing softly on the pavement. The conversation he’d had with you lingered in his mind, uncomfortably and yet pleasantly. He hadn’t planned on opening up, hadn’t expected to feel anything tonight other than his usual exhaustion, but somehow you had broken through his defenses without even trying.

As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, looking up at the soft glow of the apartment windows above. Your apartment was only a few feet away from his, and knowing that made everything feel strangely closer, more intimate. He had always been a man of habit—quiet, keeping to himself—but tonight had shifted something. He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad yet.

Jack trudged up the stairs and down the hallway toward his apartment, his mind still tangled in thoughts of you. He had spent so long shutting people out, letting the hurt and bitterness from his past fester, that he had forgotten what it was like to have a real connection with someone. And while it hadn’t been anything profound tonight, just a shared car ride and some honest conversation, it had still shaken something loose in him.

Reaching his door, Jack unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar stillness greeting him. He tossed his keys onto the counter, kicked off his boots, and leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, staring into the dimly lit room. The silence that he usually found comforting now felt oddly heavy, as though it were pressing down on him, reminding him of just how alone he’d been.

He let out a long breath and rubbed his hand over his face. What the hell is happening to me? he thought. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, wasn’t supposed to care. And yet, there it was—a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to keep living in his little bubble of solitude forever.

With a tired sigh, Jack grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped it open, and took a long drink. As he sat down on the worn-out couch, his mind kept circling back to you—your laugh, the way you looked at him with genuine interest, the way you had thanked him for a ride that he had felt compelled to offer. It was nothing, really. But it also felt like something.

Jack leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He had no idea where things were going with you—if anywhere—but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like shutting the door completely.

And that was enough for tonight.

In your apartment, the buzz from the night had started to catch up with you. The warmth from the drinks and the lingering scent of Jack’s cologne seemed to ignite something in you, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. After a few moments of stumbling around your bedroom, you began to strip off your clothes, leaving only your panties on.

The sensation of the fabric clinging to you was damp and uncomfortable, and you realized it was more than just the cold. The remnants of the night and the proximity to Jack had stirred something inside you, something physical and undeniable. The combination of his presence, his scent, and the intimacy of the conversation had left you feeling an unexpected longing.

You settled onto your bed, the cool sheets meeting your heated skin. Your thoughts drifted back, to the way Jack’s hand had steadied you, the deep timbre of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne that had lingered on you. You hadn't been with anyone in months, and the desire that had sparked tonight was both startling and intense. The alcohol in your system made everything feel a bit more vivid, a bit more pressing.

As you lay there, trying to find some semblance of comfort, your mind replayed the moments from the truck—the casual way Jack had offered you a ride, the genuine concern in his voice, the unexpected connection you’d felt. Even in your tipsy state, you recognized that the attraction you felt was more than just physical. It was a mix of loneliness, desire, and the craving for something real.

You shifted restlessly, the fabric of your panties feeling almost restrictive. Your body ached for more, driven by the intimacy of the night and the raw, unfiltered emotions that came with it. The sense of isolation you had been trying to escape seemed to merge with the physical need you felt, making it all the more intense.

Your thoughts about Jack and the connection you felt were a heady mix of excitement and confusion. You hadn’t expected any of this to happen—hadn’t planned on feeling this way about him. But now, with the night stretching out before you and the warmth of his scent still clinging to you, it was hard to ignore the raw, primal feelings that had surfaced.

In the quiet of your room, with only the soft hum of city sounds coming through the window, you found yourself grappling with these newfound sensations, caught between the lingering effects of the evening and the deep-seated desires that had been stirred up.

As you lay there, the room felt quiet and intimate, a stark contrast to the bustling bar and the late-night conversation you’d shared with Jack. Your thoughts were a tangle of lingering attraction and physical need.

With a restless sigh, your hand found its way to your stomach, slowly slipping inside your panties. The sensation of your own touch sent a shiver through you, intensifying the feelings that had been simmering since your time in Jack’s truck. You were acutely aware of the dampness between your legs, a tangible reminder of the excitement that had built up during the evening.

As your fingers began to explore, you let out a soft, shaky breath. The gentle pressure you applied felt both comforting and electrifying, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. The contrast between the cool fabric of your panties and the warmth of your skin was a constant reminder of the physical desire that had been awakened.

Your mind wandered back to Jack—the way he had looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the faint scent of his cologne. The combination of the physical sensations and the emotional undercurrents from the night made everything feel more intense, more urgent.

You continued to touch yourself, the movements slow and deliberate, driven by the lingering memory of Jack’s presence and the deep-seated need that had taken hold of you. Each caress and gentle pressure heightened your awareness of the feelings coursing through you, blending the physical pleasure with the emotional complexity of the evening.

The quiet of the night wrapped around you, making the moment feel intensely personal and private. As you continued, the feelings of arousal and longing became more pronounced.

As the intensity of your touch increased, your moans grew louder, the sound carrying through the quiet of your apartment. Unaware of how audible you were, you were completely immersed in the moment, your senses heightened by the alcohol and the lingering thoughts of Jack.

Meanwhile, Jack, unable to sleep and still winding down from the night, was sitting in his living room. He was idly scrolling through his phone with a beer in hand, trying to distract himself from the thoughts of you and the conversation you both had shared. The quiet of the night amplified the noises in the building, and it wasn't long before he heard the unmistakable sound of your moans coming through the wall.

His finger paused on the screen of his phone, and his breath hitched. The sound was soft but distinct, stirring something within him that he had been trying to suppress. For a moment, he sat frozen, the reality of what he was hearing sinking in. His heart raced, and a rush of unexpected emotions clouded his judgment.

The sounds from your apartment painted a vivid picture that Jack couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on his phone, tried to pull his mind away from what was happening so nearby, but the sounds of your pleasure were insistent, pulling him deeper into a turmoil of arousal and confusion.

The part of him that wanted to stand up, to distance himself from the wall that was the only barrier between him and the source of those sounds, battled with the part that was captivated, drawn to the intimacy of the moment despite himself. Jack knew he should move away, go to another room, put on some music—anything to drown out the sounds that were all too clear and much too close.

But he remained seated, his body tense, his mind racing. The sounds of your moans mingled with the memories of the evening—the look in your eyes, the sound of your laugh, the way you had looked at him as you thanked him for the ride home.

Jack took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts whirling through his mind. His eyes closed for a moment, a futile attempt to shut out the auditory invasion that stirred him so deeply. But with each soft moan that filtered through the wall, Jack found himself less able to deny the attraction, the undeniable pull that he felt toward you.

As the realization settled in that he was not going to be able to ignore or escape the situation so easily, Jack set his phone down, his last attempt to distract himself abandoned. He sat there, listening, caught in the tension between his own loneliness and the unexpected connection that seemed to be taking root in the most unexpected of ways.

As the sounds from your apartment continued, Jack felt his resolve crumbling. The moans—soft yet insistent—penetrated through the walls, and despite his best efforts to focus on anything else, his body began to react involuntarily.

He shifted in his seat, the growing pressure in his jeans becoming uncomfortable. His breathing grew uneven as he tried to maintain control, but the sounds were relentless, stirring a deep-seated desire that he hadn’t anticipated. The reality of his own arousal hit him hard, a stark contrast to the internal struggle he’d been wrestling with since your chance encounter.

Jack’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his composure. The image of you, the warmth of the truck, the conversation—it all swirled together in a confusing blend of longing and regret.

Jack’s resolve continued to deteriorate as the sounds from your apartment grew more insistent. His breathing became ragged, and despite his best efforts to maintain control, he found himself unable to ignore the sensations building inside him. The pressure in his pants was becoming too uncomfortable to ignore, and as much as he fought it, his body was betraying him.

In a moment of weakness, his hand moved almost instinctively, unfastening the buckle and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. He tried to fight it, to regain some semblance of control, but the need was overpowering. His mind raced, torn between the escalating arousal and the guilt of what he was doing.

His hand, now trembling slightly, reached inside his jeans, feeling the heat of his own arousal.

Overwhelmed by the flood of emotions and physical responses, Jack finally succumbed to his urges. He pushed down his jeans and boxers, seeking relief from the intense pressure and heat that had built up within him. Alone in the dim light of his living room, Jack was torn between self-reproach for yielding to his desires and the undeniable relief that came with acknowledging them.

His actions were hurried, almost desperate, as he tried to quiet the turmoil swirling in his mind—the guilt, the loneliness, the undeniable attraction to someone so close yet so far in many ways. Each sound from across the wall seemed to amplify his actions, intertwining his reality with the imagined closeness of you, heightening his sense of isolation when he most craved connection.

As Jack began to move his hand, he closed his eyes, allowing his imagination to take over in an effort to distract from his inner turmoil. The sounds from your apartment—faint but unmistakable—fed into his fantasies, painting vivid scenes in his mind. He imagined you, just across the wall, caught in a similar moment of vulnerability and desire.

In his mind’s eye, Jack saw you lying in your bed, a mere echo of reality blending with his imagination, driven by the sounds that had inadvertently bridged the gap between your separate lives. He pictured the way you might arch your back, the soft sighs escape your lips, each detail adding to the intensity of his own actions.

The mental images served as both a balm and an accelerant, soothing his loneliness while simultaneously driving his desire to new heights. His movements became more deliberate, syncing with the rhythm of the muffled sounds that continued to filter through the walls, as if he and you were connected by more than just proximity, sharing a moment of escapism from the solitude that usually enveloped his nights.

As Jack’s hand moved rhythmically, the fantasy in his mind became almost tangible, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. The sounds from your apartment—the soft, intermittent noises that seemed almost in response to his own actions—intensified the experience. It felt as though you were not just a figment of his imagination but a real participant in this shared moment of vulnerability and release.

Jack’s breathing grew heavier, and his heart raced as he approached the edge. The fantasy of you, so vivid and detailed, pushed him closer to climax. The imagined sounds of your pleasure, the visual of your body responding in kind to his own actions, heightened his arousal to its peak.

Meanwhile, the faint but distinct rhythm of a bed, the soft moans that matched the intensity of Jack’s own breaths—everything pointed to a parallel journey you were undertaking behind the wall that separated you.

The isolation that typically enveloped Jack’s nights was momentarily lifted as he felt an intimate, though unspoken, connection with you. In this late hour, the walls of your apartments felt thinner than ever, as if the physical and emotional distance had collapsed under the weight of shared human needs and desires.

Finally, as Jack reached the brink, the intensity of his fantasy coupled with the real sounds from your apartment brought him to a powerful, almost overwhelming climax. As he came, his mind was filled with the image of you experiencing the same release, a thought that made his moment of solitude feel less lonely.

Another week passed, and the memory of that night had faded into the background, though it occasionally resurfaced in Jack’s mind during the quieter moments. He had kept himself busy with work, the usual routine of long hours and physical labor serving as a distraction from the thoughts that threatened to surface whenever he allowed his mind to wander.

It was Friday morning, and Jack stepped out of his apartment, coffee in hand and his work bag slung over his shoulder, ready to head to the site. Just as he closed his door, he heard the familiar creak of your door opening across the hall.

For the first time since that night at the bar, your eyes met.

You stepped outside, your face lighting up with a surprised smile when you saw him. There was an undeniable moment of recognition, though neither of you acknowledged it outright. It wasn’t just the memory of the bar, but something unspoken, lingering between you.

"Morning", you said casually, pulling your jacket tighter around you as you prepared to leave.

"Morning", Jack replied, his voice gruff as usual, though there was a slight hesitation in his tone. He hadn’t expected to run into you like this, not after the last week of keeping to himself.

The silence between you stretched out for a second longer than it should have, both of you standing there, caught in the awkwardness of the moment. It wasn’t the same as before; there was something new hanging between you two. Jack, for all his efforts to bury it, couldn’t shake the vivid memory of that night and the connection he had felt, however fleeting or imagined.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence. “Heading to work?”.

Jack nodded, lifting his coffee cup as if to emphasize the early start to the day. “Yeah. You?”.

You smiled, glancing down the hall as you locked your door. “Running some errands before work. Got a busy day ahead”.

There was a brief pause, as though both of you were searching for something else to say. Jack shifted slightly, unsure if he should bring up the night at the bar or just let things continue as they were—neighborly, but distant.

"About the other night", you started, surprising Jack. He looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What about it?", he asked, trying to gauge where you were going with this.

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a small laugh, waving it off. "I just wanted to thank you again for the ride. I had a bit too much to drink, I guess".

Jack shrugged, though he felt something stir inside him. "It was nothing. Just looking out for a neighbor".

You gave him a warm smile, the kind that made Jack feel like maybe, just maybe, there was something more to this connection between you. But before either of you could say anything more, the moment passed, and you both turned toward the stairwell, ready to go about your day.

"Have a good one", you said over your shoulder as you walked ahead.

"You too", Jack replied, his voice quieter, as he watched you disappear around the corner.

As Jack made his way to his truck, he couldn’t help but think about the unspoken tension between you two, the way your eyes had lingered on his for just a second longer than necessary. Something had shifted, and while neither of you had acknowledged it directly, Jack knew that things might never be quite the same.

At work, the sun beat down relentlessly as Jack and Anthony labored over the foundation of the new construction site. The heat was oppressive, and it wasn’t even midday yet, sweat already pouring off them as they moved heavy equipment and mixed concrete. Jack wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his shirt sticking to his back as he focused on the task at hand, trying to lose himself in the physical demands of the job.

Anthony, as usual, wasn’t one for silence. He shoved a wheelbarrow full of concrete into position and grinned over at Jack. “Man, this heat is brutal. Feels like I’m sweating out last weekend’s beer”.

Jack grunted, his mind elsewhere. Despite the distraction of work, he couldn’t completely shake the thoughts of his morning run-in with you. It had been such a simple interaction—just a few words exchanged as you both left the building—but it felt heavier, like there was more beneath the surface.

Anthony noticed Jack’s distant expression and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, you still with me, or are you lost in la-la land?”.

Jack shot him a sideways glance, shaking his head. “Just focused. This heat’ll kill us if we don’t pace ourselves”.

Anthony chuckled, though he wasn’t fooled by Jack’s attempt to deflect. “Yeah, sure. You’ve been off ever since we ran into your little neighbor last week at the bar. You finally make a move or what?”.

Jack groaned, grabbing a shovel to spread the concrete evenly. “I didn’t make a move, Anthony. We ran into each other this morning, that’s all”.

“Yeah? How’d that go?”, Anthony leaned on the handle of the wheelbarrow, clearly not letting the subject drop.

Jack hesitated, then shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big deal. “She thanked me for the ride home. That’s it”.

Anthony gave him a knowing look, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t know why you’re playing this all cool. You’ve been stuck in neutral for years. That girl’s giving you all the green lights, and you’re still sitting at the stop sign”.

Jack’s jaw tightened as he focused on his work, not wanting to dive into the conversation. Anthony wasn’t wrong, though. There was a tension between him and you, something unspoken that seemed to hang in the air every time he thought about you. But Jack wasn’t ready to confront whatever that was. Not yet, anyway.

“Look, I’m not getting involved with my neighbor”, Jack finally said, his tone firm but resigned. “Too complicated. Told you already”.

"You´re fucking afraid", Anthony chuckled.

Jack shot Anthony a sharp look, but his friend just grinned, clearly not backing down from his playful needling. Jack hated that Anthony was right—there was a part of him that was afraid to admit he was interested. It wasn’t just about you being his neighbor; it was everything that came with it. The messiness of relationships, the vulnerability, the risk of getting hurt again. Jack wasn’t sure if he had the energy or the will to go through that kind of emotional upheaval, even if there was something undeniably magnetic about you.

"I’m not afraid", Jack said gruffly, more to convince himself than Anthony.

Anthony wiped sweat from his brow, watching Jack closely. “Then what’s stopping you? Life’s too short to play it safe all the time, man. You’re gonna miss out on something good if you keep hiding behind excuses”.

Jack shook his head, frustrated, as he shoveled another pile of concrete. "It’s not that simple".

Anthony sighed, leaning on the shovel for a moment, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. "Jack, nothing's simple. You of all people know that. But you can’t just keep putting up walls. You’re stuck in neutral because you won’t let anyone in".

Jack stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the work in front of him. He didn’t want to admit how much Anthony’s words were hitting home. The truth was, Jack had been putting up walls for a long time, ever since his marriage fell apart. And every time he felt a connection—whether it was real or imagined—he’d push it down, shove it into a corner of his mind where he didn’t have to deal with it.

The thought of getting involved with you scared him because it was a risk. And Jack wasn’t sure if he was ready to gamble on something that could unravel him again.

But as the day wore on and the sun beat down, Jack couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. The easy smile you’d given him that morning, the warmth in your eyes. There was something there, something real, and Jack was slowly realizing that pretending it wasn’t affecting him wasn’t going to work much longer.

Anthony finally broke the silence, his tone lighter again. “Well, you keep overthinking it, man. Meanwhile, I’m getting a beer after this and you’re welcome to join me if you want to stop brooding for a minute”.

Jack chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. "We’ll see".

Anthony grinned, sensing he’d made a small crack in Jack’s armor. “Good. You might need more than a beer to get out of your head, though”.

As they continued their work, Jack tried to focus, but the idea that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t need to keep his distance from you lingered in the back of his mind.

It was around 11 p.m. when Jack finally returned home from the bar, his footsteps a little slower than usual from the couple of beers he’d had with Anthony. The night air had cooled significantly, a stark contrast to the heat of the day. He reached into his pocket to fish out his keys, ready to call it a night, when something stopped him in his tracks.

Loud noises—thuds, crashes—came from your apartment. Jack froze, his instincts immediately on high alert. His hand gripped the key tightly as he stood still, listening closely. A second later, he heard what sounded like muffled screams, faint but unmistakable.

Jack’s blood ran cold.

He knew he should mind his own business, that you were an adult capable of handling your own life, but this was different. The sound of distress was too clear, too concerning. His hand moved from his door handle, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was crossing the hall toward your apartment, his heart pounding in his chest.

He stood at your door for a brief second, listening intently. Another crash, and this time, a louder, more desperate sound escaped from inside—something was definitely wrong. Without thinking, Jack banged his fist against the door.

“Hey! You alright in there?”, he shouted, his voice booming through the hallway.

There was no immediate answer, just more muffled noise. His pulse quickened, and he knocked harder, urgency taking over. “Y/N! Open the damn door!”.

Still no answer.

Without waiting for a response, Jack tried the door handle, fully prepared to break the door down if he had to. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, and it creaked open slightly. Jack pushed it open wider, stepping inside cautiously.

The apartment was dimly lit, but Jack could see signs of chaos—knocked-over furniture, papers scattered across the floor. His heart raced as he scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on you in the corner. You were struggling, your arms pinned, and a man loomed over you, his grip tight and menacing.

The sound of Jack entering the apartment caused the man to freeze, and he turned toward Jack with a snarl. Jack didn’t hesitate—his protective instincts kicked in immediately.

“Get off her!”, Jack barked, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped forward, ready to intervene. The man’s eyes widened for a split second, realizing he wasn’t alone, but he didn’t move. Jack took another step, his presence looming as he readied himself for whatever came next.

The man finally let go of you, shoving you aside roughly as he turned to face Jack. Without thinking, Jack lunged, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall with enough force to make him grunt in pain.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”, Jack growled, his face inches from the man’s.

The man struggled, trying to push Jack off, but Jack was too strong, too furious to back down. He held the man in place, his fists clenched and every muscle in his body tense.

“Get the fuck out. Now! Before i loose my shit”, Jack demanded, his voice cold and hard.

For a moment, it seemed like the man might fight back, but he thought better of it. Jack’s grip loosened just enough for the man to stumble away, glaring as he straightened himself. Without another word, the man stormed toward the door, slamming it behind him as he left.

The room fell silent, the chaos and tension still thick in the air. Jack stood there for a moment, his heart still racing, before turning his attention to you. You were huddled on the floor, trembling and trying to catch your breath, your face a mix of fear and relief.

“Y/N”, Jack said softly, moving toward you carefully. “You okay?”.

You nodded shakily, though it was clear you were still in shock. Jack crouched down beside you, his protective instincts still in overdrive.

“Who was that? Do I need to call the cops?”, Jack asked, his voice gentle but firm.

You shook your head, your voice hoarse when you finally spoke. “No… no, he’s gone now. It was just… my ex. He wasn’t supposed to be here”.

Jack clenched his jaw, anger still simmering beneath the surface. “You’re sure you’re okay?”.

You nodded again, though your body language told a different story. Jack’s eyes softened as he reached out, offering you his hand.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here for a bit”, he said quietly. “You don’t have to stay here tonight”.

You hesitated for a moment, clearly shaken and unsure, but then you took Jack’s hand, letting him help you to your feet. As you stood, the dim light in the apartment revealed more than Jack had anticipated. His eyes immediately went to the bruises on your arms—faint but unmistakable fingerprints marking your skin. Worse still was the cut on your lower lip, swollen and fresh. Jack’s blood boiled all over again, the anger from moments ago threatening to resurface.

“Damn it”, Jack muttered under his breath, his hand tightening slightly around yours as he guided you toward the door. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely contained rage at the thought of what had just happened. He wanted to go after the guy, make sure he never came near you again, but for now, his priority was getting you out of there.

You noticed Jack’s reaction, your eyes flickering down to your arms, and you quickly pulled them away, crossing them in front of your chest defensively, as if trying to hide the evidence of the assault. “It’s fine”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “He’s gone. It’s over”.

Jack stopped just inside the doorway, turning to face you. "It’s not fine", he said firmly, his voice low but filled with concern. "Look at you".

Your eyes welled with tears, but you blinked them away quickly, unwilling to break down in front of him. "I’ll be okay. I just… I didn’t expect him to show up. I thought he was done. I didn’t think—". You stopped, your voice catching in your throat.

Jack stepped closer, his voice softer now. "You don’t have to explain. But you shouldn’t stay here tonight. Let me help, even if it’s just for tonight".

You stared at him for a moment, weighing the options in your head. You didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to seem weak or incapable. But the truth was, the fear still gripped you, and the thought of staying in your apartment, alone, after what had just happened, was unbearable.

"Okay", you finally said, your voice barely a whisper.

Jack nodded, relieved that you weren’t going to argue. He placed a steady hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the apartment. He made sure to lock your door behind you, not that it offered much comfort given what had just transpired.

"Let’s go to my place for now", Jack said, his voice calm and reassuring. "You can stay there tonight, and we’ll figure everything out in the morning".

You gave him a small nod, too tired and shaken to think about anything beyond the immediate moment.

As you stepped into Jack’s apartment, the warmth and quiet of the space enveloped you. It felt safe. Jack led you to the couch, gesturing for you to sit. "I’ll get you some water", he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

While he was gone, you sat on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Your ex showing up had been a shock—a terrifying reminder of a chapter you thought you had closed. The bruises on your arms stung, but not nearly as much as the emotional weight of it all. You hadn’t wanted to seem weak, hadn’t wanted to involve anyone else, but Jack had been there. He had seen everything.

Jack returned with a glass of water and a first aid kit, setting them both down on the coffee table. “Drink”, he said gently, nodding toward the glass. “And let me take a look at your lip”.

You hesitated for a moment but then reached for the glass, taking a small sip. Jack knelt in front of you, opening the first aid kit and carefully taking out some antiseptic wipes. He met your eyes for a brief second, silently asking for permission before he gently dabbed the cut on your lip.

You winced slightly, but the pain was dulled by the tenderness in his actions.

"Sorry", Jack muttered softly. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t get worse”.

You nodded, grateful for his care despite the situation. For the first time in what felt like hours, you allowed yourself to relax, knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to handle this alone.

As Jack continued to clean up the cut, his brow furrowed with concentration, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. He had stepped in without hesitation, protected you without a second thought. And now, as he knelt there, carefully tending to your injuries, you realized just how much you needed that.

Jack continued his careful work, his hands steady as he cleaned the small wound on your lip. Despite the roughness of the situation, his touch was gentle, his eyes focused on making sure you were okay. You watched him, feeling a mix of emotions—gratitude, relief, and something else, something softer that you couldn’t quite name.

Once he finished, Jack stood and tossed the used antiseptic wipe into the trash, his movements deliberate, almost as if he was trying to keep his own emotions in check. He turned back to you, running a hand through his hair, the tension from earlier still etched into his features.

“You’ll be alright”, he said quietly, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself than you. “But I’ll stay up, just in case”.

You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. “You don’t have to do that, Jack. You’ve already done more than enough”.

Jack shook his head. “I’m not going to sleep knowing he might come back”. His voice was firm but kind, leaving no room for argument.

You gave a small nod, feeling a weight lift slightly from your chest knowing that, for tonight, you weren’t alone. “Thank you”, you whispered, your voice filled with more emotion than you expected.

Jack gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his expression softening. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. No one should”.

The weight of his words hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel the tension between you shift again. Jack wasn’t just saying these things out of obligation—there was something deeper, something protective and genuine. You’d always known him to be a bit gruff, a little distant, but tonight, you were seeing a different side of him. A side that cared, even when he didn’t say it outright.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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#jensen ackles #jack durfy x y/n #jack durfy x you #jack durfy x reader #jack durfy #buddy games

54 notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 3 days

Note

how is halloween prepping coming along on the SOLDIER floor?

• They started setting up complimentary candy bowls around the place, and Sephiroth is trying to convince people that it's just a coincidence that he's always near one.

• Angeal walked by a candy bowl by the combat sim, Sephiroth was there. Two hours later, Angeal walked out and Sephiroth was still there.

• Lazard is setting up festive Halloween decorations to liven the mood. He hung up some fake cobwebs. Genesis thought they were real and set them on fire.

• Lazard also set up some festive fake skulls around the place, but some operatives started the trend of coming back from monster hunting missions and placing monster skulls on this huge pile by the entrance.

• Angeal is handing out Halloween pencils, erasers, stickers and other trinkets for good work. Sephiroth occasionally swings by Angeal's office and casually mentions things he's accomplished throughout his day just so he can receive a Halloween eraser. He's acquiring a collection.

• Lazard somehow still has faith in his operatives after the cobweb debacle, so he organized a mini pumpkin carving station in the break room. This station lasted only about 46 hours before Lazard walked in to find the entire room covered in pumpkin guts, Sephiroth and Genesis having engaged in a fight over whose pumpkin was superior which destroyed all the pumpkins. Also, Zack was spotted in a corner, rocking back and forth and clutching the last preserved pumpkin.

• Reeve gifted them this really cool scarecrow animatronic as decoration. He forgot to mention that it's remote controlled, so his attempt to "spook" the SOLDIERs by making it chase them ended in Genesis organizing a seance.

• Genesis occasionally slips a fake meat cleaver headband on Sephiroth, who makes no attempt to remove it.

• Zack and Kunsel tried to prank people by writing "BEWARE" in fake blood on the mirror in the men's room. Angeal made them clean it up and lectured them on defacing property.

• People keep organizing Skelesis Bonesodos, Angeal Bonely, and Bone-roth in increasingly odd positions. Most recently Angeal Bonely and Bone-roth were getting married while Skelesis Bonesodos officiated the ceremony. Rumor has it that the president arrived onto the SOLDIER floor for a surprise inspection, took one look at this setup, then walked right back out.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #crisis core #soldier halloween

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finalvortex · 19 hours

Text

Completely overanalysing Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings Episode 1

The opening is a deliberate parallel to the scene leading into Maria's death (images taken here from Shadow '05, although this scene is also in SA2). If you're paying attention you can immediately tell it's a fakeout, though: there's no alarm blaring, the lighting is blue rather than red, and Maria is pulling Shadow along instead of the other way around.

It's the aurora borealis. You can only see them from certain latitudes down there, but up here, we can see the whole...

Maria's a nerd.

Shadow is immediately prepared to catch Maria when she collapses.

The low gravity here only keeps your condition in remission. You should know better than to exert yourself.

This is new information I think? I don't think this makes scientific sense but I guess it provides a justification for why Maria is up here aboard the ARK beyond 'that's where the research is being done'. Only, the ARK was a space colony, there were other civilians aboard it as well, like the future GUN commander.

I can't wait for the day when we can finally return. I was created here. I don't know if there's a place for me on Earth.

I just wanted to highlight this exchange as significant to Shadow's overall character arc across his history, being one where he has carved out a place for himself on earth.

Love the way Maria comforts shadow here.

You and grandfather are doing your best. I'm just as happy to spend time with you here, while you both research-

I think this is just awkward wording, but surely Shadow isn't doing any researching?

My boyyyy

Hull breach in the experimental weapons wing! Multiple subjects are free of containment!

Multiple subjects? Given the events of Lost Impact, things are just escaping from here all the time, huh.

Here's the entries on this incident from Gerald's journal in Sonic Battle:

The higher ups are threatening to shut down this research facility. I had no choice but to hand them the Gizoid to buy more time for my research. I tried to be careful and commanded it to never absorb any dangerous technologies. However, I have heard that other researchers have been making the Gizoid absorb weapons. Apparently, the way to cause the Gizoid to form a new "Link" is to show it power that surpasses that of its former master. While this poses immense danger, I cannot risk losing Maria.

My worst fears have come true. The Gizoid has absorbed enough weaponry and technology that it has started to go out of control. The resulting rampage resulted in the destruction of most of the "Ark." ... I have deciphered the rest of the stone tablet. It says, "When the Gizoid had learned all that it could, it became a god of wrath, and all was destroyed." The researchers somehow managed to subdue the Gizoid and sealed it away.

That robot was heading towards Grandfather's lab! Shadow, you have to save him!

Why was Emerl - uh, well, I guess Project Gizoid at this point - headed directly for Gerald? If he was overloaded with power, like at the end of Sonic Battle, he should just be destroying things indiscriminately, right? So... was this a deliberate ploy by GUN to get rid of Gerald?

Maria grabbing Shadow's hand breaks the illusion briefly and triggers a trauma-induced flashback (forward?) to the GUN soldier shooting her. Compare with the actual scene from Shadow '05:

Again, why is Emerl specifically targeting Gerald here?

Not much to say about the fight scene aside from the fact that it's really well animated, and it happens with no background music to emphasize the weight of the blows being thrown. It's also really cool how Emerl copies Shadow's spin attack - you don't need to know how the Gizoid functions for that to be a cool visual, but it's a nice nod if you do.

Ok this is really confusing me. Is there any mention of GUN having a space fleet anywhere? Where did these things come from? They don't even share the same aesthetic as other GUN vehicles, they look more like the Egg Fleet.

Nice look at Shadow's Air Shoes from below the glass floor.

Next Shadow lands into Gerald's cell on Prison Island, which raises the question: why is this in Shadow's memories? Is this just his memory of the recording from SA2? Or was Shadow not put on ice until after Gerald's execution? We know it wasn't immediately after the ARK was destroyed, since he was around long enough for Gerald to alter his memories.

There is a bit of static distortion here, with an analog effect that implies it might just be the video.

On the other hand, we actually get these very brief flashes of Gerald's execution here, which we don't see in SA2 itself.

The professor gets farther and farther away from Shadow. He can no longer reach him.

Shadow then falls into a red sky, with bits of debris floating all around him, reflecting the final battle against Devil Doom in Shadow '05.

Interestingly, this scene is mixing imagery from both Gerald and Maria's deaths. The image of the GUN soldiers is the firing line that killed Gerald, and the sound of the lightning turns into automatic gunfire, as opposed to the single pistol shot that killed Maria.

Finally, Shadow falls into the giant face and outstretched hands of Black Doom.

Waking up from his nightmare in a panic, Shadow uses that damn fourth chaos emerald* to Chaos Spear this unfortunate tree.

*Okay, the fourth chaos emerald was the white one.

The moon looks so good.

Shadow stands in a field surrounded by lilies, a flower which can be used to symbolise purity as well as death, and is a flower commonly used at funerals. In particular, they are often placed on the graves of children.

That was no mere nightmare. And it all began in view of the ARK. Could he have survived? No, that can't be. I need answers.

Shadow seems to think the sight of the ARK is what triggered this nightmare. I think the only 'he' that makes sense here is Black Doom, since Gerald and Emerl are both pretty definitively dead.

Based on the trailer, I think from here Shadow is going to collect Team Dark to raid an Eggman base so they can obtain a rocket to get up to the ARK.

The song that plays over the credits is a remix of Throw it All Away. I have no idea why it shows footage of the biolizard fight, beyond "this is the Sonic Adventure 2 focused episode".

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic x shadow generations #dark beginnings #shadow the hedgehog #maria robotnik #emerl the gizoid #gerald robotnik

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pascaloverx · 1 day

Text

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

FOUR

FIVE

You put on a dress your mother gave you some time ago, one she called the "husband-catcher," telling you to wear it when you wanted someone special’s attention. Well, for tonight’s dinner, you want Steve Rogers' attention on you. You leave your hair down, choose the least uncomfortable pair of heels you could find at the last minute, apply light makeup, and a slightly bold red lipstick. You add a necklace that complements your neckline. Honestly, you feel like a seductive spy heading on a mission. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, but as you look at yourself in the mirror, you try to convince yourself that you can fool the handsome Rogers.

Grabbing your bag, you lock the door to your apartment, wave to the camera Barnes installed at the entrance, and head out for your meeting with Steve. It doesn’t take long to reach the restaurant on foot, as it's just across from your bakery. One of the perks of living close to work. From a distance, you spot Steve Rogers, sitting at one of the outside tables. He’s dressed in an elegant navy blue suit, his hair neatly in place with not a strand out of order, and his beard freshly trimmed. This man knows how to dress for a date — though this will be more of an interrogation.

"You take my breath away, Y/N. If your plan was to distract me with your charm, it’s already working," Steve says the moment he sees you approaching. You try to exude as much sex appeal as possible, making sure the slit in your dress is on full display while offering him a gentle smile.

"I believe you think I value your opinion on many matters. But thank you for the compliment, I do try to perfect my charm when I'm about to be interrogated by a stranger regarding someone he assumes I know." You respond boldly, watching as Steve pulls out the chair for you to sit. After settling into your seat and adjusting your bag, you realize you're actually sitting in a restaurant with a very handsome man. Your cheeks grow warm, which feels odd given how cool the evening is.

"You know Bucky, it’s only a matter of time before you admit it. I’d even bet you saw him before this meeting. That’s why you closed your bakery early, and don’t tell me it was just to get ready for our date. You look stunning, but I’m not an idiot. What did he tell you to do? Lie outright, I’m sure of it." Steve seems to know Barnes all too well, sounding completely convinced that he’s uncovered everything you’ve been hiding. You take a sip of water, trying to calm yourself.

"It's astounding how you think admitting to being a stalker is somehow better than understanding that I have no idea who the hell your friend is. Yes, he may have been a customer of mine. If you haven’t noticed, I serve a lot of people—including you. And as much as you don't deserve it, I closed my bakery early because I needed to prepare myself, not just by putting on a nice dress and makeup, but mentally. This is the first date I've had since I lost my trust in men. If you want to know why, it's because my fiancé cheated on me with my best friend. The week of our wedding. If you want more details, I smashed a vase over his head, he had to get over five stitches, and it was the first time I got arrested. He dropped the charges afterward because he felt guilty. Since then, I've been focusing on my bakery. So, tell me, smart guy—are you satisfied?" You speak with a certain flair, feigning near tears as you recount the story. You're lying, of course, about several details, but the performance is convincing enough.

Steve extends his hand across the table, gently holding yours and caressing it. You look at him with teary eyes while he gazes back at you like you're a lost puppy. "Where did Barnes find you? Until now, I thought you were just a regular bakery owner, but you're something else. If you tell me you know how to use a weapon, I’ll personally see to it that you become an agent." He laughs right after, clearly amused by your act.

You sigh in frustration, pulling your hand away from his, but he grabs it again, moving his chair closer to yours. He then pulls your neck towards him to whisper into your ear, "I'm starting to enjoy your lies. You can keep feeding them to me, but I’d prefer if you cut the nonsense and told me something real."

"I haven’t been fucked in almost a year. Am I lying or telling the truth?" You give up trying to fool Steve and decide to shift the conversation. You're still holding his gaze when the waiter clears his throat to get both of your attention. Your eyes dart away from Steve's as you straighten up in your chair, adjusting yourself. Rogers, too, composes himself, though he’s still chuckling at the situation.

“Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but I would like to know if you are ready to place your order. For today, the merlot paired with the chef's special pizza is highly recommended,” the waiter says politely, clearly embarrassed.

"We'll go with your recommendation," Steve replies with a broad smile, as if he’s having the time of his life. What a complete idiot. The waiter notes down the order and quickly heads off to fetch the wine, leaving you and Rogers alone again.

"You saw he was coming over and didn't warn me on purpose, right?" you ask, a bit furious, looking at him as if you could kill him.

"Let’s say I didn’t see him coming, just like you don’t know Bucky. But let’s get back to the main topic; you haven’t had a sexual partner for quite some time. Tell me, why did you share that with me?" Steve speaks seductively, looking at you as if you are something he treasures.

"Because that’s the reason for all of this, right? Not to find your friend, but to try to seduce me so I’d let you sleep with me. Of course, all in the name of you thinking you’ll find your friend. You want to find him so badly that you came here on a date with me instead of going to look for him. Admit it, you don’t want to be wrong about me knowing Barnes, because if I don’t know him, you’ve got nothing. You’ve wasted your time trying to get into my pants. Also, you don’t need to be formal when discussing my lack of sex. I haven’t fuck with anyone for a while. In fact, I might be manipulating you to seduce you and then discard you. Have you thought about that?" You try to be more straightforward among the lies and deceitful words. You just want to see if you can hit a nerve with Steve Rogers to convince him of something. Even if it’s that you’re a woman desperate for his cock.

“Dance with me?” Steve suddenly asks, catching you off guard. You look at him, trying to understand what he means. There's no music playing, and the waiter is about to serve the wine. But something tells you this is a test, so when he extends his hand toward you, you take it firmly. He places his phone on the table, and an instrumental melody begins to play. He then presses his body against yours, one hand holding yours and the other resting on your waist.

He leads you with confidence, your bodies swaying to the music. At one point, it feels less like dancing and more like a silent battle to see who will give in first. Steve’s hands grip the contours of your dress, almost reaching your backside. Your hand wraps around his neck, your head resting close to his chest, allowing you to catch a whiff of his cologne—a woody scent that feels almost comforting, like a warm embrace.

"You’re right, I know your friend. Lying is just pure foolishness, and I can't take it anymore. In fact, I know him quite well. He was a secret crush of mine, not just a mere customer. The days he came into the bakery were the brightest. He’d order an espresso and the fresh bread I was testing the recipe for. I would come in early just to be ready when he arrived. I waited for months to find out his name, even though I knew he preferred savory over sweet, that he probably has a fluffy white cat, that he enjoys reading The Hobbit, and that he never paid me any mind. That’s why I denied knowing him; I feel pathetic saying all this. Like a silly teenage girl hoping to be noticed by the guy she finds attractive. And that’s all I have to say about him. He doesn’t know who I am, but I know who he is. I’d recognize him even in a crowd. " Your voice trembles, a mix of embarrassment and pretense, almost as if you feel utterly humiliated. It’s not a complete lie; it probably won’t work, but you have to try. Steve won’t give up easily if he doesn’t have part of the truth. And that’s what he’ll get from you—a fragment of the truth.

The waiter brings the pizza, interrupting the small world you and Steve had created during the dance. Both of you feel a bit embarrassed for being caught, but without saying much, you sit back at the table, allowing the waiter to serve you. The pizza is flavorful, but Steve seems distracted, still processing your ridiculous confession of love for Barnes. His usual confident demeanor falters for a moment as he picks at the food, clearly thinking over what you just said. The tension lingers, not from suspicion anymore but from the awkward truth you've offered.

"Since you've finally decided to tell me the truth, now tell me: when was the last time you saw James Barnes?" The crucial question is asked, almost as if it were another test. Between bites of pizza and sips of wine, you feel the need to reveal something to him. But if you tell the truth, Barnes could be at risk. He would be furious.

"The last time I saw him was…" You were just about to reveal the truth to Steve, realizing the mistake you were making when the sudden sound of a gunshot drew your attention. The bullet shattered your wine glass, leaving you horrified. The second shot was even closer to Steve, hitting his arm. Without much thought, you immediately drop to the floor, rushing over to Steve, who is pressing on his wound. You can hear people screaming in panic from inside the restaurant.

"What is so important that it's taking you this long to find?" you ask impatiently, panic rising inside you. You're more scared for Steve than he seems to be. Finally, he pulls out his car keys along with his wallet from his pocket. He places the money for the bill and tip on the table, then presses the car key into your hand. His grip is firm, and you're horrified when you see his blood smearing onto your skin from his hand.

"Y/N, I'm putting my life in your hands. Please, save me," Steve says as his eyes begin to close, his strength visibly fading. You quickly place his good arm over your shoulders and ask him to guide you to his car. He leads you as best as he can, and once there, you carefully put him in the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt. You try calling out to him a few times, hoping to keep him conscious, but he slips into unconsciousness. Without wasting another second, you rush to drive him to the hospital, heart pounding as you speed through the streets.

It didn’t take long before you arrived at the emergency room of the hospital. After shouting for help, a doctor and several nurses rushed to assist you in getting Steve out of the car. You were questioned for a while about Steve—whether he had any allergies, what his condition was. You decided to say you were his wife, explaining that due to his military service, you hadn’t seen him for a while. Once they finished removing the fragments of the bullet from Steve’s arm, you could finally take a breath, though your heart still raced.

“Miss, your husband asked to see you,” one of the nurses informed you as you sat in the waiting room for hours. You quickly stood up to meet Steve, who was in a hospital bed looking much better.

"My beloved wife, have you waited all this time for me?" Steve Rogers says, sounding somewhat dazed, likely from the pain medication they gave him. You give him a slight smile as you see him beckoning you closer with his hand.

"How is my dear husband?" you ask, fully embracing the character as you approach him, gently holding his hand. He leans forward and pouts, as if asking for a kiss. You give him a quick peck on the lips.

"I want to go home. Can we leave?" Steve asks, laughing as if he's finding something amusing.

"We could go but your doctor said you need to stay under observation and the hospital said you need to give your insurance number or a nice amount of money." You smile and casually respond to Steve's question, but unfortunately, he falls asleep before he can answer you. You inform the hospital reception that you will provide Steve's financial information once he is better. They are understanding, thinking of you as a concerned wife. They even let you leave, promising to call if he improves. Feeling exhausted, you decide to go home. You drive Steve's car back to your place, borrowing it for the night.

As you’re about to enter your apartment, you hear a noise coming from inside. Great, this is when things go south. Thankfully, you have pepper spray in your bag, and you grab it, preparing to defend yourself against whoever is inside. When you open the door, you come face to face with a man. As soon as he turns to look at you, you spray him in the face.

"Ah, Y/N, are you trying to blind me?" Barnes exclaims, crying out in pain from the pepper spray in his eyes. You rush to help him, dropping your bag on a nearby surface. Gently, your fingers brush against his eyes as you attempt to wipe away the remnants of the spray. You blow softly into his eyes, trying to ease the burning sensation, while he watches you in stunned silence.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," you say softly, your concern evident. "I thought you were an intruder." As you continue to tend to him, the tension in the room shifts from fear to a more intimate moment, the chaos of the evening fading into the background.

"It wasn't supposed to be you who got hurt," Barnes says, grasping your hand, which still bears the blood from Steve. For a moment, you're touched by his genuine concern for you. However, the realization of what he said sinks in, making you acutely aware that he has some connection to what happened.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your heart racing as you search his eyes for answers. "Did you know this was going to happen?" The tension hangs heavy in the air as you await his response, feeling both unsettled and intrigued by the depths of his involvement.

His eyes seem heavy as he searches for the right words, finally admitting, "It was Natasha's plan. She thought a small attack would distract Steve enough for him to stop looking for me. She figured you wouldn't be able to keep secrets. We planted bugs in the restaurant, and when we sensed you were about to spill, we had to act. I know you're going to be angry, but it was for your own good." James Barnes's words feel like a whirlwind, leaving you bewildered.

"You’re crazy. How could you let her hurt your friend? Or did you do it yourself? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us? You put me at risk and left your best friend injured. He’s in a damn hospital bed, you son of a bitch." You step away from James Barnes, unable to recognize the man in front of you. How sadistic could he be to hurt Steve?

"Steve will survive. It was a strategically placed shot; we wouldn’t have harmed him if we didn’t know he would pull through. Please, Y/N; trust me. What Natasha and I did was for the best," James Barnes says, holding your hands again as if he desperately wants you to understand and accept that it was all part of his plan.

"Don't you dare ask me to trust you; you didn't trust me. You preferred to shoot Rogers rather than give me a vote of confidence. But I can promise you that if you don't step aside right now, I will make you regret not shooting me. I will tell Steve and the police everything I know about you, and I won't regret it. So get out of my apartment and don't come back," you say angrily, feeling something burn inside you. You are tremendously regretful for having trusted him, for ever thinking he could be yours.

Barnes's gaze conveys a sense of pain, as if he is truly remorseful. He heads toward the door as if to leave, but pauses just before opening it, turning back and practically rushing towards you. His lips meet yours in a kiss filled with emotion. James leads the kiss, as if he wants to consume you. The intensity of your tongues dancing within each other’s mouths, exploring, is sensational. There’s a strong urge to push Barnes away, to hit him, to cry for him. But in that fleeting moment, you savor the kiss.

"I'll come back when you’re calmer. Until then, don’t do anything reckless. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but just know that I’m truly sorry," James says as he breaks the kiss, his eyes still closed, relishing the sensation of your lips against his. When you open your eyes, he’s no longer there. For a moment, you wish he had never been in your life at all.

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engeorged · 2 days

Text

Harry's Stag Part Two

Part One here

I must have dozed off for a while. The exhaustion from the day’s indulgences, combined with the weight of my bloated belly, had finally caught up with me. I was jolted awake by the sound of laughter and the shuffling of footsteps. As I blinked groggily, I saw the guys bustling around the room, clearly preparing for the evening.

Jim was the first to notice me stirring. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Time to wake up and get ready for round two.”

I groaned and attempted to sit up, but my stomach protested, feeling heavier than ever. I fumbled for my jeans, which had somehow managed to fit earlier in the day but now seemed like a nearly impossible task. I struggled with the waistband, but no matter how hard I tugged, the button wouldn’t meet its counterpart.

Banning, always the one with a knack for planning, seemed to have anticipated this. He held up a pair of jeans that looked just a tad larger than mine, with a grin that could only be described as mischievous. “Look what I’ve got here! Thought you might need a little extra room tonight.”

The guys burst into laughter as I took the jeans from Banning, still chuckling at the foresight. I shook my head, a smile creeping onto my face despite the discomfort. “You guys are unbelievable. Thanks for thinking ahead, I guess.”

I changed into the slightly larger jeans, which were much more comfortable now that my belly was so full. It was amazing how just a little extra room made a difference, and I felt some relief as the jeans fit over my swollen gut without the same kind of strain as before. The guys continued to laugh and joke, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

As I finished adjusting my clothes, Jim popped open a couple of cans of beer and handed one to me. “Here, mate. You need to chug a few of these to help numb that belly of yours. Trust me, it’ll help.”

I eyed the can warily but took it from him, already feeling the slight buzz from earlier in the day. As I took a long gulp, the cool liquid slid down my throat, and I could feel the effects of the alcohol starting to kick in. The guys cheered me on, making exaggerated gestures and shouting playful encouragement.

“Noel, you’ve got to see this,” Jim said, gesturing toward my bloated belly. “Harry’s got himself a full-on beach ball in there.”

Noel laughed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, and I think he’s about to make it even bigger.”

I took another swig of beer, trying to ignore the increasing pressure in my stomach. The alcohol was having the desired effect, dulling the edge of the fullness and making the discomfort slightly more bearable. The guys continued to poke fun and tease me, but their playful attitude made it easier to endure the tightness of my gut.

Once I’d managed to down a couple of beers, we gathered our things and prepared to head out. The evening was still young, and the guys were determined to make the most of it. As we left the hotel and headed toward the night’s next adventure, I couldn’t help but laugh along with them, despite the persistent ache in my belly. The day had been a whirlwind of eating and drinking, and while I was still reeling from the effects. We finally made our way out of the hotel and onto the bustling streets of Amsterdam, laughter and excitement bubbling among us. The plan was to hit a club and see where the night took us, but as we walked, a familiar golden arches sign caught Jim’s eye.

“Look at that,” Jim exclaimed, pointing across the street. “McDonald’s! We should check it out. I bet there are some unique Dutch menu items we’ve never seen before.”

Before I could protest, the guys had already made up their minds. “Come on, Harry,” Banning said, grinning. “It’ll be fun to see what’s different.”

I hesitated, feeling a mix of dread and resignation. My belly was still stretched tight from the massive amount of food I’d eaten earlier, and the thought of eating more was almost unbearable. But the guys were so enthusiastic that I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. We headed into the McDonald’s, the smell of fries and burgers only amplifying my discomfort.

Inside, we quickly ordered a mix of Dutch specials and regular fare. The food started arriving, and as I picked at the offerings, it quickly became clear that eating more was going to be a challenge. My stomach was protesting with every bite, the fullness now a heavy, persistent ache. Despite my efforts, I struggled to keep up with the pace the guys were setting, who were practically shoving fries and burgers into my hands.

As I tried to push through, I noticed that the guys were exchanging cryptic glances and whispered conversations. Their behaviour was becoming increasingly conspicuous, and I began to feel uneasy. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustration. “Are you guys up to something?”

Jim merely gave me a noncommittal smile, and Banning’s expression was unreadable as he continued to shove food in my direction. “You’re doing great, Harry. Just a little more, and then we’ll head out.”

As I struggled with the last few bites, feeling like I might burst from the effort, Noel suddenly stood up. “Alright, that’s enough McDonald’s for now. Let’s get going. We’ve got another place to hit.”

I was relieved to leave the burger place, but my relief was short-lived. The guys led me through the streets again, this time toward a place I hadn’t expected—a marijuana café. I eyed the entrance with a mix of suspicion and resignation.

“Seriously? You guys know weed just makes me dopey. I don’t think this is a good idea,” I protested, trying to muster some energy despite my discomfort.

Banning and Jim exchanged one of their knowing looks, a smile tugging at their lips. “Oh, come on, Harry,” Banning said with a grin. “You know it actually works. You always get the munchies.”

Jim nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Exactly. It’ll help with that full feeling and make the experience a bit more fun.”

Before I could argue further, they had already ushered me inside and handed me a massive brownie. It was so large it could have been mistaken for a cake slice, thick and dense with chunks of chocolate. I eyed it warily, feeling the weight of the day’s indulgences pressing heavily on my already stuffed stomach.

“Go on,” Noel encouraged. “Give it a try. It’s supposed to be amazing here.”

With a resigned sigh, I took a bite. The rich, fudgy brownie was delicious, and I hate to say that I ate it pretty quickly. It took a good half hour to kick in but as the brownie worked its way through my system, I could feel myself beginning to sink into that familiar, hazy state. My discomfort was still there, but the marijuana started to blur the edges, making it feel a little more manageable.

The initial dopey haze quickly shifted as my stomach, already stretched to its limit, suddenly craved more. The munchies hit me with a surprising intensity. I found myself eyeing the café’s menu with an almost ravenous interest, craving everything in sight.

“See? I told you,” Banning said, smirking as he noticed the shift in my appetite. “What did I tell you?”

Jim clapped me on the back with a laugh. “Looks like you’ve got room for a bit more after all.”

Before I could fully grasp the change, they were already ushering me out of the café and down to the canal. We found ourselves at a charming canal-side restaurant, its outdoor seating lined with twinkling lights and the gentle lapping of water nearby. The menu was full of tempting dishes, and the guys wasted no time in ordering a variety of appetisers and main courses, eager to keep the food coming.

It started with appetisers—bread baskets, bowls of soup, platters of charcuterie. The moment the first plate hit the table, I was on it, stuffing my face like I hadn’t eaten in days. The food tasted incredible, and I couldn’t get enough. I tore into the bread, dipped it into olive oil, and devoured slices of prosciutto and cheese. Every bite was a burst of flavour that seemed to intensify the more I ate.

Then came the main courses—steaks, pasta, grilled vegetables, roasted chicken. They just kept coming. Plate after plate, the food piled up in front of me, and I didn’t hesitate to dig in. My belly, already stretched and swollen from the beer, started to grow even more. With every bite, it felt like my stomach expanded, pushing against my shirt until it rode up, exposing the taut skin underneath.

The guys were having a blast, cheering me on as I ate. They kept passing me more food, laughing and making jokes, and I was too stoned to care about how much I was consuming. Every time I thought I was done, they’d order another dish, and somehow, I found room for it. The sensation of my belly swelling larger and larger was surreal. It was like I could feel it expanding with each bite, my skin tightening as it stretched to accommodate the growing mass inside.

I glanced down at one point, and it hit me how massive my stomach had become. It was no longer just bloated—it was huge, a round, firm dome that jutted out far beyond what I thought was possible. I looked like I had swallowed a basketball. But instead of freaking out, I found it hilarious. The sight of my enormous belly, paired with the way it kept growing, had me and the guys in stitches.

By the time dessert rolled around—massive slices of cake, ice cream, and pastries—I was barely able to move. My stomach was so tight and full that every breath felt like a stretch, but I couldn’t stop. I kept eating, laughing through the discomfort, enjoying every ridiculous moment of it. The guys were relentless, making sure I had something in front of me at all times, and I was too far gone to resist.

When we finally left the restaurant, my belly was so swollen that I had to lean back slightly as I walked, the weight of it throwing off my balance. I could barely think straight, the mix of food, beer, and weed making everything a hazy, hilarious blur. The guys were still cracking jokes, poking fun at how enormous my stomach had gotten, and I couldn’t stop laughing along with them. I was laughing along with the guys, but deep down, I was starting to feel the pressure of everything I’d consumed.

About halfway back to the hotel, I realised I desperately needed to take a piss. I could feel the pressure building, and there was no way I was going to make it all the way back without stopping. I told the guys, and they pointed me toward a nearby alley, joking about how I might flood the place.

I stumbled over to a corner, barely able to keep my balance with the massive, bloated dome of my stomach jutting out in front of me. When I unzipped my pants, I quickly realised just how much my belly had grown—so much that I couldn’t even see my own junk anymore. My gut was so round and distended that it completely blocked my view. I had to fumble around by touch alone, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.

Finally, I managed to get a grip, and when I let loose, it was like a dam had burst. The stream was powerful and seemed to go on forever, the relief almost as overwhelming as the pressure had been. I leaned against the wall for support, my head spinning slightly from the combination of the weed, alcohol, and sheer absurdity of the situation.

As the last of it trickled out, I zipped up, chuckling to myself. My belly was still a massive, heavy sphere, pushing against my waistband and making it hard to move, but at least I wasn’t about to burst anymore. The guys were still waiting, and as I waddled back over to them, they couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous I looked, and neither could I.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, I was feeling a little less pressured after that massive piss, but my stomach was still ridiculously bloated, swollen into a tight, heavy sphere that felt like it was carrying half of Amsterdam inside it. I could barely walk straight, and the guys kept cracking jokes about how I looked ready to pop.

I thought we were done for the night, but Noel had other plans. As we passed by a pizza place on the way to the hotel, he suggested we grab some food "for later." I wasn’t really hungry—hell, I was stuffed beyond belief—but I was still stoned and buzzed enough to shrug and go along with it. So, we ended up ordering a ridiculous amount of pizzas—more than any of us could possibly eat on a normal night, let alone after the feast we’d just had.

Back at the hotel, we piled into the room, the boxes of pizza filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma. I collapsed onto the bed, my bloated belly making it hard to find a comfortable position. I was about to tell the guys that I couldn’t eat another bite, but they had other ideas. Jim tossed a pizza box onto the bed next to me and opened it, revealing a perfectly cooked, cheesy, greasy pie.

“C’mon, Harry,” Jim said with a grin, his tone both teasing and encouraging. “You’re not going to let a little food beat you, are you?”

“Yeah, you’ve still got some room in there,” Banning chimed in, patting the side of my swollen belly. “We’re just getting started.”

I tried to laugh it off, but before I could protest, Noel grabbed a slice and shoved it toward my mouth. “Open wide, mate,” he said, still laughing, but there was a glint in his eye that made it clear they weren’t messing around.

Still dazed from the weed and alcohol, I opened my mouth, and Noel pushed the slice in. I chewed automatically, the taste of melted cheese and tangy tomato sauce filling my mouth. It was good—really good, actually—and I found myself swallowing it down before I even realised what I was doing.

Before I could say anything, another slice was ready and waiting. This time, Jim was the one holding it, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He shoved the slice into my mouth, and I started eating again, feeling the food settle heavily on top of everything else in my gut.

They kept going, passing slices between them, each one urging me to eat more, faster. It quickly escalated from playful encouragement to full-on shovelling. They’d grab slices two at a time, practically stuffing them into my mouth before I even had a chance to swallow the last bite. I was too stoned to resist, too drunk to care, and too far gone to do anything but laugh along with them, even as my stomach started to protest.

With every bite, I could feel my belly expanding even more. It was already tight, but now it was becoming painfully taut, the skin stretching impossibly further to accommodate the endless stream of pizza. I was bloated beyond anything I’d ever experienced, my stomach distended to the point where it felt like I could burst at any moment. But the guys didn’t stop—they kept pushing more food into me, and I kept eating, my laughter mixed with groans as I struggled to keep up.

The more I ate, the more ridiculous the whole situation became. My stomach was so swollen that it looked almost comical, a massive, rounded dome that dominated my torso, making me look like I was ready to give birth to a food baby the size of a beach ball. And the guys were loving it, laughing and cheering as they watched my belly swell even further with each slice.

I lost track of time as they fed me slice after slice, my senses dulled by the haze of intoxication. All I knew was that my stomach was now beyond full—beyond bloated—it was an enormous, heavy, rock-hard ball that had taken over my entire body. I was so stuffed that I could barely breathe, the tightness in my gut making every movement an effort. But despite the discomfort, the absurdity of it all was too funny to ignore. I could barely stop laughing, even as they shoved the last few slices down my throat.

As the last few slices of pizza disappeared into my mouth, I finally collapsed back onto the bed, completely overwhelmed. My belly was a colossal, swollen sphere, so distended that it looked almost alien on my frame. The weight of it pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe, and I could feel every bite, every gulp, churning inside me like a storm. I lay there, panting, trying to process what had just happened.

My mind was a foggy mess, dulled by the weed and alcohol, but as I lay there, something started to gnaw at the edges of my thoughts. I began to piece together the events of the day—the massive breakfast, the endless beers, the feast at the restaurant, and now, this late-night pizza binge. It all added up to an insane amount of food, far more than I would normally eat in an entire week, let alone a single day.

A thought flickered in my mind, barely noticeable at first, but then growing stronger: something was up. This wasn't just a casual lads' weekend or a fun, spontaneous night out. The way the guys had been egging me on, pushing more and more food into me, it all felt a bit too...planned. I tried to sit up, the massive weight of my belly making it difficult, but before I could say anything, Jim, Noel, and Banning exchanged a quick look, and suddenly, they were on top of me.

Before I could react, they had pinned me down, each of them grabbing an arm or a leg. I was too stuffed and too sluggish to fight back, and honestly, too out of it to want to. I tried to laugh it off, but there was a flicker of panic in my voice as I asked, "What the hell are you guys doing?"

Jim, with that mischievous grin of his, pulled out something from behind his back—a massive beer bong. My eyes widened in shock and confusion as the realisation of what was about to happen hit me.

"Oh, come on, guys," I groaned, but it was too late. They were all laughing, enjoying the moment way too much to stop now.

They propped me up slightly, my bloated belly wobbling as I shifted. Jim positioned the tube over my mouth, and before I could protest further, he pushed it down my throat and started pouring a big tub of melted ice cream into it. The cold, creamy liquid rushed down my throat, and I had no choice but to swallow as quickly as I could, the pressure in my already overstuffed belly intensifying with every gulp.

I could feel my stomach stretching even further, the already taut skin straining to contain the deluge. My belly, which had seemed impossibly huge before, swelled even more as the ice cream filled every last bit of space inside me. As the ice cream finished, they began pouring beers in there as well. The mixture of the ice cream and the frothy beer was intense.The sensation was overwhelming—my gut felt like it was going to explode, the tightness almost unbearable, yet I was too drunk, too stoned, and too out of it to do anything but go along with it.

The guys were in hysterics, cheering me on, shouting encouragement as they poured more and more down the funnel. My mind was spinning, the absurdity of the situation mixed with the physical reality of my massively distended belly. I could barely think straight, the combination of everything I'd eaten and drunk creating a pressure cooker inside me.

I glanced down at my stomach, and what I saw almost didn't seem real. My belly was huge, tight and shiny, jutting out far beyond what I thought was physically possible. It was so large now that I couldn't even see my legs, just this massive, swollen ball that had taken over my entire body.

The guys finally stopped, pulling the funnel away as I gasped for breath, my chest heaving against the immovable bulk of my belly. I was stuffed beyond comprehension, my stomach a grotesque, comically large sphere that defied belief. Yet, despite the discomfort, I couldn't help but laugh along with them, the sheer ridiculousness of it all hitting me like a wave.

They let me go, stepping back to admire their handiwork, and I collapsed back onto the bed, my enormous belly towering over me like a mountain. The pressure was intense, but as I lay there, I couldn’t deny the strange sense of satisfaction that came with it. Even though I knew something was up, I was too far gone to care.

I tried to shift slightly, but any motion only seemed to exacerbate the pressure. I could feel the beer churning in my bloated stomach, and the sensation of it bubbling up made me uneasy. Then, out of nowhere, a massive burp escaped me, loud and forceful. The sound reverberated around the room, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.

The guys erupted into cheers and laughter, their eyes lighting up with delight. “That’s it, Harry!” Noel whooped, clapping me on the shoulder, which made my already tight stomach feel even more cramped. “That��s what we wanted to hear!”

Another burp came, even more thunderous than the first, and the guys’ excitement only grew. Jim slapped me on the back, his grin wide. “You’ve outdone yourself, mate. This is legendary!”

Each belch seemed to amplify their enjoyment, and despite my discomfort, I found myself laughing along. The room was filled with the sounds of my beery burps and their cheering, creating a bizarre but oddly joyous atmosphere. As I lay there, my belly pressing heavily against the bed, it was hard not to feel a bit of pride mixed with the discomfort. The guys were clearly thrilled with the result, and their enthusiasm made it all seem worthwhile, even if my stomach felt like it might burst.

I lay there, my massively swollen belly rising like a dome over me, panting from the effort of swallowing down all that ice cream and beer. My gut was so tight it felt like it might split open at any moment, the pressure inside almost unbearable. I tried to catch my breath, my mind still reeling from the absurdity of it all.

As I struggled to process what had just happened, the guys started to calm down, their laughter fading into chuckles. Jim was the first to speak, leaning against the bedpost with a mischievous grin still plastered on his face.

"Alright, Harry," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "I guess it's time we come clean."

I looked up at him, confused and still half in a daze. "Come clean about what?" I asked, my voice slightly strained from the sheer fullness in my gut.

Banning exchanged a glance with Noel, who shrugged and smirked. "Well," Banning began, "this whole weekend...it wasn’t just about showing you a good time before the wedding. We’ve been, uh, keeping a bit of a game going on the side."

"A game?" I echoed, the realisation slowly dawning on me.

Noel chimed in, grinning wider. "Yeah, mate. We’ve been taking bets on who could get you to eat the most food."

I blinked in disbelief, my overstuffed belly suddenly making a lot more sense. "You’ve been betting on me? On how much you could stuff me?"

"Pretty much," Jim admitted, not looking the least bit guilty. "Ever since college, you’ve been the champ at eating challenges. We thought, what better way to celebrate your last weekend of freedom than to push you to your absolute limit?"

I stared at them, trying to wrap my head around it. My mind flashed back to all the meals today—the endless breakfast, the brewery tour, the ridiculous feast at the restaurant, the pizzas—and realised they’d been orchestrating the whole thing. It wasn’t just a coincidence that I’d ended up eating so much.

"Are you serious?" I asked, half-shocked, half-amused.

Banning nodded, looking at my distended stomach with a grin. "Dead serious. And I think it’s safe to say we’ve all been pretty successful."

I couldn’t help but laugh, even as my belly groaned under the pressure. "You guys are insane," I said, shaking my head. "I can’t believe you did this."

"But you’re not mad, right?" Noel asked, a bit of teasing in his tone. "You gotta admit, it’s been one hell of a weekend."

I looked down at my massively bloated stomach, then back at them. Despite the discomfort, I found myself grinning. They were right—it had been a ridiculous, over-the-top, and unforgettable experience. And honestly, the absurdity of it all was kind of hilarious.

"Nah, I’m not mad," I said, still chuckling. "I mean, how could I be? You guys planned this whole thing just to see how much I could eat. It’s kind of flattering in a weird way."

Jim laughed, patting my bloated belly. "We knew you’d see it that way. You’re always up for a challenge."

I shook my head, still in disbelief. "Well, congratulations, guys. I think you’ve officially turned me into a human food balloon."

As the laughter and cheers subsided, I lay there, utterly spent and still feeling the aftereffects of the beer funnel incident. My belly was so distended it felt like a drum, and every slight movement or shift was a reminder of just how much I’d been stuffed.

“Alright, alright,” I said, attempting to catch my breath amid the ongoing burps. “Who actually won this little competition? I need to know who managed to outfeed me.”

The guys exchanged glances, clearly enjoying the moment. Banning picked up his phone and started scrolling through a series of photos they’d taken earlier in the day, probably to document the ‘progress.’ Jim, sitting back with a satisfied grin, was the only one not actively engaged in the discussion.

“Well,” Banning said, after a moment of scrutiny, “it looks like Jim here has the lead. We kept track of how much each of us managed to shove in you, and Jim’s the one who really went for it.”

Jim beamed, clearly pleased with the result. “I had a feeling I was in the running. Must say, I’m pretty proud of my efforts.”

Noel chuckled, nudging Jim playfully. “You were relentless, mate. I think we all knew you had the edge.”

I let out a contented sigh, the pressure in my belly making me wince slightly. “Well, fair play to you, Jim. You’ve earned it. And I have to admit, this has been one hell of a stag do.”

The guys gathered around, still buzzing with energy from the day’s events. Despite the discomfort, I couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie and fun we’d had. It was clear that Jim had taken the crown, but in the end, it was the shared laughter and the ridiculousness of the whole experience that made it memorable.

As I lay back on the bed, my stomach had reached a point that was almost hard to believe. It was now an enormous, round, and tightly stretched sphere, jutting out from my torso like a massive, inflated beach ball. My once-flat belly had expanded to such a degree that it almost seemed to defy the laws of nature. The skin was stretched so tight that it looked shiny and smooth, with veins faintly visible beneath the surface. Every movement was a struggle, and the sheer weight of it made me feel like I was carrying a heavy burden.

The guys stood around me, clearly thrilled by what they had managed to achieve. Their laughter filled the room as they took in the sight of my overly stuffed, swollen gut. Jim couldn’t resist and gave my belly a playful, yet firm slap. The impact made me let out a loud belch, the sound echoing through the room.

Noel joined in, giving my belly a gentle pat, then a light poke, which caused me to belch again. “Seriously, mate, that gut is fucking insane”

I managed a tired chuckle, my hand resting on the massive dome of my belly. It felt like the pressure inside me was never-ending, every breath a struggle against the tightness of my gut.

As the excitement over Jim’s victory settled down, the guys began to show off their own swollen bellies, each one proudly displaying the effects of the day’s indulgences. Jim, with his winning grin, lifted his shirt to reveal his round, hairy belly. His thick, dark hair was matted down, spreading out over his expanded midsection. It was noticeably full but still had a firmness to it. He patted his belly with a laugh, clearly enjoying the moment. “No way I’m the only one feeling the aftermath,” Jim said. “I’ve been eating like mad just to keep the charade up.”

Banning followed suit, lifting his shirt to reveal a slightly flabbier stomach. His belly was rounded and covered in a light layer of fuzz, giving him a softer appearance. He rubbed it with a playful grimace. “I didn’t realise it would get this intense,” he admitted. “Keeping up with the feeding has been a challenge.”

Noel, stocky and also hairy, was sporting a noticeable bulge. His shorter frame made his stomach look even more pronounced, with a sprinkling of light hair across his rounded belly. “Mate, I thought I’d burst a few times today,” he complained, though his tone was more amused than anything else. “Keeping you stuffed was no small feat.”

I glanced at their bellies, each one testament to the sheer volume of food and drink we’d consumed. Jim’s hairy expanse, Banning’s soft, flabby midsection, and Noel’s round, fuzzy belly were all proof of the day’s overindulgence. Despite their complaints, the camaraderie was evident. They each took turns joking about the day’s events, comparing how their stomachs had swelled and the discomfort that came with it.

“Guess we all played our part,” I said, chuckling as I looked at their bellies. “But I’ve got to hand it to you guys, you really went all out.”

Jim took a step back, wiping tears from his eyes as he looked at the scene before him. “Alright, champ, you’ve outdone yourself. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

I glanced at him, confused and exhausted. “What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow,” Jim said with a grin, “we’re going to find out who can make you eat the most. We’ve still got a whole day left, and we’re planning to push you even further.”

I stared at him, the realisation hitting me that the challenge was far from over. Despite the discomfort and the overwhelming fullness, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread at the thought of more eating ahead.

“Better get some sleep,” Banning said, clapping me on the shoulder. “We’ve got big plans for tomorrow.”

The guys finally let me be, their laughter and playful banter continuing as they prepared to settle in for the night. I lay there, my massive belly rising and falling with each heavy breath, feeling a strange mix of pride and disbelief at what I had just accomplished.

As I closed my eyes, the sensation of my distended stomach pressing against me was both painful and oddly satisfying. The thought of what the next day might bring lingered in my mind, and despite my exhaustion, I found myself eager to see just how far they would take the challenge. For now, though, I had to focus on trying to get some rest before whatever came next.

For more of my stories click here

#gainer fiction #belly expansion #male gaining #gay gainer #stuffing #belly fiction #gainer stories #gainer story #stuffing art

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satureja13 · 21 hours

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After the Boys did what they could for the Grim Reaper for the time being, they started their day with their yoga/meditation/tantra practise.

Somehow the Little Goats are always attracted to Vlad ^^' And not only the goats. Even Kiyoshi can feel the air heating up by the way Ji Ho looks at Vlad. While Vlad, the master of self control, tried to not look Ji Ho's way to keep things from getting even more awkward between them. Breathe in through the nose - breathe out through the mouth. Repeat. (And Freezer Boney already became friends with Logan, Wicket and Skully.)

Then they went down to the lagoon to cool down. And seize the short time they have here at Tartosa until their meeting with Ms Coombes and athena.

Poor Sai is still sad he wasn't able to spend the night with Jeb. He urgently has to come up with some ideas to seduce him. But how, if he's constantly keeping his distance to Sai? That's ridiculous. Jack and Kiyoshi are more intimate with each other as mates, just mates, or whatever they are, than Sai and Jeb as a couple...

Jeb: "Come in, Vlad. The water is wonderful!"

Same crap as last year when they'd been here and Jeb was avoiding him.

Such a beautiful day! It's still warm here at Tartosa and the water in the lagoon is just right.

And since the holiday season is over, they have the place for themselves.

Well almost. Some guy started chatting with Jeb... Until they noticed Sai torpedoing right in their direction ö.Ö'

If Sai can't have Jeb, no one else will. Some guy: "Eh - I have to go. Bye."

Jack and Kiyoshi separated from the others and went to the beach. Jack was building diligently and pondered about their mateship and the times they had been in their secret relationship.

Kiyoshi must have had the same thoughts: "I'm glad we don't have to hide anymore and that we can talk openly about anything." Jack: "We'll do that, right? And it won't be weird." Kiyoshi: "We will. And it won't." Jack: "I could have never imagined we'd ever be so comfortable around each other. Even when we were together, I'd been nervous and anxious all the time." Kiyoshi: "And I'd been so pressured to treat you right and then I did everything wrong all the way." Jack: "Well, not everything. Our woohoos had been epic." Kiyoshi agreed with a hum. They remembered their epic woohoos for a while - until they got reminded of just how tight these swimming trunks are, and they stopped. Jack changed the subject: "And I never understood what you wanted from me." Kiyoshi: "Now you can feel it too. That we're fated mates. *he let out a laugh* All it needed was getting struck by lightning." Jack: "So, what when the heat strikes me again, will... will you - eh, help me - again? Getting rid of it?" Kiyoshi: "Sure. Anytime. I mean, if it's ok for you?" Jack smiled, relieved: "More than ok. Thanks, mate." Then Jack thought that sand pile looked a bit like a 🍑 and got distracted again...

Too soon it was time to leave and get ready for their meeting. Sai: "Are you trying to bury Kiyoshi like Vlad and me last year?" Jack laughed: "Aouwww, that was fun! But no. I'm building a dam to keep the water at bay so we have more space at the beach." (Even though the beach is so large, there is only a small areal where you can actually place your towels and stuff. When I told Jack to build in the sand, he already had to kneel in the water -.-) And poor Sai didn't even notice how longing Jeb looks after him! But it's for the better I guess, since that guy is still with Jeb ö.Ö'

Ji Ho: "If you're planning to bury Kiyoshi like Vlad and Sai last year, he's lying behind you ;) " Jack laughed and played along: "Ah, dammit ^^' "

Outtakes

The Little Goats also practice yoga. Here, Little Goat shows us how to do the 'Dead Goat' pose... It's not as easy as it looks though, keeping your arms and legs in the air for a while at that angle...🐐

The second time Ji Ho kind of glitches here in the lagoon. Last year, he changed into his sports outfit while still in mermaid shape (trousers and shoes too ö.ö) And here he's doing the crawl, which is not his usual mermaid swimming style.

Greg tends to show up to look after his son ;)

With bored confidence ^^' Or does even he look a bit worried? Or sad and curious (since he lifted one eyebrow)? I'm having such a hard time reading faces... I have no idea if that comes from my face blindness or autism. How does he look for you?

And when they left, the guy who chatted with Jeb, finished Jack's 'dam' because he thinks it's a project worth finishing ^^' Vlad is applauding him for his determination.

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

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httpserb · 2 days

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okay so while i work on chapter 2 (I'm so sorry its late I'm a highschool senior with 4 ap classes, 2 gifted classes, and insomnia. I'm trying my best i swear) I'm going to give out some content and stuff like things to expect in the fic

this is friendships/relationships that will kage will experience with small explanations :D (these are out of order)

lev & kage - ok so I plan on having miwa and alisa get together so i find it funny if they were awkward but lev immediately attaches to kage and they're like brothers

akaashi & kage & kenma - ok so they're all introverted and i know kenma and akaashi are cool but like i can see akaashi realize kage is mean or angry just really awkward and weird at times so he recommends him to join his and kenma's game nights and one Minecraft world later they're all attached at the hip

atsumu & osamu & kage - originally i think atsu and kage have a rivalry and mutual respect for each other until atsu realizes samu and kage are good friends (bc kage is always eating samu's curry rice balls, he has become samu unofficial food tester lol) and atsu is obvi trying to be the better twin so they end up getting closer at setters like a more equal standing unlike oikawa & kage or suag & kage who were mentors (in a way looking at you sideways oikawa bc your teaching methods were ... interesting [don't misintterupt this i love oikawa])

ushijima & kage - ok so they're both autistic, you'd have to rip that headcannon out my dead cold hands, and i can see ushijima watching kage and realizing 'oh he is like me' and they just connect like bluetooth

kyotani & kage - i actually love them bc they're both similar to me (i also find oikawa and kyotani's relationship interesting as he is in personality and raw talent and skill similar to kage and ik oikawa felt threatened cb kage was a setter but him moving along with you after the kitagawa incident is very interesting tbh) anyways i imagine they'd accidently connect like at the same gym and bond by shitting on oikawa (i imagine he'd want to hit some of kage's kingly tosses too)

yachi & kage - wlw & mlm solidarity, i love them sm, yachi realizing after seeing kage awkwardly attempt to pet a cat that he is really cute but in a sibling or little kid way so she can no longer find him scary but gets protective and explains social situations for him when he doesn't understand

coach ukai & kage - i imagine while coach takeda was hinata's coach, coach ukai was kage's bc he was blunt in a way kage understood and no extra words for needed, plus i like to think they were both very honest which each other so if ukai said kage was messing up he'd be upset but believe him and take a break

kage & tsuki - so i stand by the fact kage is smart but in odd strangely specific ways like physics but not general science and math and tsuki finds out and loses his shit bc kage is lowkey better than him but doesn't do anything with this, this kinda begins their actual friendship tho bc kage gets to talk about physics (esp astrophysic his favorite bc his dad's job [a personal headcannon])

kogane & kage - kogane worshipping the ground kage walks on bc he is such a good setter and kage trying to help teach kogane but he isn't good with words but despite this kogane understands him somehow!?

kuroo & kage - i think kuroo would recognize kage as someone similar to kenma but not only that but as hinata's best friend and as kenma's best friend who is friends with hinata he'd do some mental math to become kage's friend. plus i think he'd (like tsuki) recognize kage is dumb, but smart in different ways and try to draw it out of him (he also finds it funny to adopt/befriend all the karasuno first years [he has plans for yachi & yama])

tendou & kage - took one look and thought him and ushijima are of the same breed so he could befriend him (probably) but other than that i think tendou being seen as scary or freakish, even being referred to as a monster could relate to kage and his king od the court incident so maybe they'd bond through that

ok that is all i can think of rn and if a friendship isn't on here it's because it probably something I'm already going to do. this list was mostly headcannon or me taking a small relationship, blowing it up, then putting it under a microscope for personal enjoyment

(here is some food: @youwerethedefeated @infinitemilk @ushouldwatchhaikyuu @kagehiner @cosmorom @greynoceur @pixiesnooze @kagehiner )

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu tobio #kagehina #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #karasuno #aoba johsai #nekoma #date tech #miya twins #shiratorizawa

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exhuastedpigeon · 3 days

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Lemme help with those Hockey AUs...

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Kenna I knew I could count on you.

39 for 👨🏽(ps this fic was inspired by your manip of hockey player Eddie with a moustache)

Where Buck’s mustache is still pretty light, Eddie’s is dark and lush and honestly, Buck wants to put his mouth on it.

Which is not the way he’s supposed to think about his teammate.

Even if that teammate is also Buck’s secret husband. Emphasis on the secret part. While they were out to the team and their family and friends, they weren’t out publicly at the advice of their agent and the Kings front office.

But Buck might accidentally out them this November if he didn’t get himself under control. It was just, Eddie looked kind of insanely hot with a mustache. This wasn't the first November he’d known Eddie, in fact this wasn’t even the first November where he’d been in a relationship with Eddie. It was just, this November something seemed different.

“Why are you staring at me,” Eddie asked with a laugh on November 5th. His mustache was already looking thick and sexy, unlike Buck’s which was still a little patchy and definitely too blond to look good right now.

“I like the mustache,” Buck said with a shrug, trying (and failing) to sound casual about it.

“Oh, you do?” Eddie stopped buttoning his shirt so he could turn around and look at Buck directly instead of in the mirror.

“Y-yeah,” Buck couldn’t take his eyes off of it and here in the safety of their bedroom he was allowed to look, so why should he stop.

“If you managed to keep out of the box tonight, I’ll let you do whatever you want to my mustache.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Well, within reason,” Eddie laughed. “We have to get on a plane and fly to Boston tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I can stay out of the box,” Buck said confidently, even though there was a very good chance he was lying. It wasn’t his fault they were playing the Ducks. Everyone knew the Ducks sucked, that was just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Eddie Diaz is the love of Evan Buckley’s life. The Ducks stopped being cool in 2006 when they changed their name from the Mighty Ducks to just the Ducks.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Eddie laughed and pressed a kiss to Buck’s mouth. Buck had expected the mustache to tickle, but he found he actually liked the feeling of it against his skin. Oh god, did he have a mustache kink that had somehow only now unlocked in him?

(He didn’t manage to stay out of the box, but Eddie let it slide because Buck had only gotten thrown in the box after he’d dropped gloves with Jonah Greenway after he ran Chimney in the crease.)

–

“Someone on Twitter called Eddie’s mustache the gayest thing they’ve ever seen in the NHL and, this is a direct quote, that’s impressive because hockey is the most homoerotic sport to ever exist,” Chimney said on November 13th. They were on the world’s shortest flight from Long Island to Philly and Chimney was entertaining them by reading funny tweets about the team.

“Everything I do is gay,” Eddie said without opening his eyes. He’d played over thirty-five minutes in their game the night before after Millsy had blocked a shot with his face, so Eddie was so exhausted that Buck could feel it radiating off of him.

It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t played an extra few minutes last night too, but Eddie was a left handed defenceman and so was Millsy, so Eddie had done a lot of double shifting. It had paid off, they’d won the game by one goal.

“Is your mustache this season extra glorious and sexy this year because you’re fully embracing your gay-ness?” Chimney asked and coming from anyone else Buck knew Eddie would have been a little annoyed, but Chimney was - well he was Chimney. He was always in their corner even when he was pissed at them.

“Probably,” Eddie smiled, eyes still closed. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Freddie Mercury and post a picture saying we have more than just a mustache in common.”

Buck’s brain short circuited for a second at the mental image of Eddie dressed up like Freddie Mercury, but he was thankfully pulled from that thought before it got not safe for work when Chimney spoke again.

and 39 for 🏒 under the cut

They’re tied 1-1 in the third period against the Ducks when Buck lays a hit on Smith along the boards in the natural zone, knocking him off the puck long enough for Eddie and his fucking beautiful hands to gain possession. Buck grins at Smith as he pushes off of him and follows behind his defense partner, entering the zone two seconds after him. Buck back checks the Duck’s defender that’s coming up behind him to keep him away from the puck and give Eddie another second to put the puck on net.

And here’s the thing, Buck knows their team is good - they’re the second best team in the western conference right now. It’s like Eddie was the missing piece they’d needed to really take them up to the next level, but in the middle of a game he isn’t thinking about that. All he’s thinking about is that he needs to give the guys the best chance they have to score. Eddie sends the puck back to Mateo and screens the goalie as Mateo passes the puck to Buck at the point to reset the play.

It’s like it happens in slow motion - Buck takes a shot from the point, not because he thinks he’s going to score, but because he wants to get the puck to the net so they can try to score on the rebound. Except the rebound doesn’t come. Instead, Eddie tips Buck’s shot, redirecting it over Gibson’s shoulder on his stick side, sending the puck into the back of the net.

The ref signals that it’s a goal and before the horn can sound, Eddie is on him, practically tackling him to the ice in celebration. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie on instinct, holding him close as TK, Paul, and Mateo crash into them.

"You're a fucking beauty, Buckley," Eddie says, his mouth pressed against Buck neck in a hug.

They manage to hold onto the lead and when Chim insists on taking everyone out for a drink after because they held onto the lead and didn’t let their defensive play slip even when they were winning. Buck says yes without second thought. He’s expecting most of the younger guys to come out with them, the ones without wives and girlfriends at home. The ones without kids waiting for them.

He’s expecting Eddie to say he needs to get home to Chris. He isn’t expecting Eddie to say, “I’m in.”

“Is Carla staying late?” Buck asks quietly as they change after cooling down and showering.

“Shannon’s got him tonight,” Eddie says just as quietly. Buck’s pretty sure the only other person who knows about Eddie’s complicated relationship with his ex is Coach, for some reason being in on that secret, to have earned that kind of confidence from Eddie, makes Buck warm all over.

“Well then it’s dad’s night out, huh?” Buck grins and slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders even though they both smell fucking rank and they should really hit the showers.

“There aren’t many nights where we win, we don’t have a game for five whole days, and I don’t have to rush home to relieve the babysitter,” Eddie grins right back. “Let’s go get fucking hammered, Buck.”

They’re in the locker room surrounded by their teammates. There’s at least two reporters in the room with them right now. Buck can see Ravi has his phone out and is probably live on Instagram. None of it matters, not with the way Eddie’s smiling at him. Not with the way Eddie pulls Buck into his orbit and keeps him there whenever he’s in the room.

“I-I think everyone is going to get hammered,” Buck says, eyes on Eddie’s mouth because he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Yeah, but I’ll be doing it with you,” Eddie says and then he ducks out from under Buck’s arm with a laugh. “Come on, we gotta shower. I bet you smell worse than Sid’s lucky jock.”

make me write

#make me write #buddie wip #buddie #asked and answered

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