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#in that moment it's the 'dad's back on the ball!' smile
artdcnaldson · 3 days
Note
okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU
TeeHee
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Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity
A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense
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Maybe you were a bad person.
You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..
You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.
Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.
You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.
Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.
And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.
You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.
“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.
“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”
“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”
“We?” He questioned.
You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”
There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.
You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.
You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.
The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.
“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.
“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”
And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.
A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.
“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”
“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.
He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.
It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.
“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.
His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”
He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.
“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”
Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”
It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.
“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”
He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.
He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.
When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.
“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”
And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.
You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.
Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.
Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.
“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”
The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.
Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.
He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.
Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.
“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.
“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.
The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.
“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.
You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.
Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.
“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”
He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.
And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.
He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.
When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.
It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.
But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.
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robiinurheart33 · 3 days
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Before, when ghost was still Simon and his mom still looked presentable enough to go out in public, she would take him and Tommy out to the pier near their house.
He can still remember; every Friday night after dinner, when his dad passed out in front of the television. The three of them would sneak out of the house and Simon would giggle, pretending as if they were ninjas, holding onto little Tommy’s pudgy body. His mom would buy him a tiny little ice cream cone for each of them and sit at the boardwalks, watching the sun go down for its rest.
“Have you ever heard of the green flash, Simon?” She would hum, green eyes near sparking in the golden hour.
“Nope.” He popped his lips at the last letter, his lips sticky from the dessert.
“Just when the sun sets, there’s a slight moment where at the veeeerrry horizon - there, you see?” She points to where the sun is now meeting the sea, Simon squinting dramatically and placing his hand above his eyes.
“…yeah.”
“Just for a split second, you can’t blink or you’ll miss it. A green flash will appear just after the sun disappears.”
“You’re lying!”
“I’m not! I’m being dead serious!” She straightens her back, an amused smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she holds a sleeping Tommy to her chest. Simon swings his legs back and forth, contemplating.
“Look, just see for yourself. It’s gonna happen soon.” A small, childish tone laces her words as they both turn to the horizon, eyes zoned in on where the sun is setting.
Sure enough - right as the sun collapses into a bright ball peeking over the sea, a bright, almost inconspicuous green flash appears.
“I saw it! I saw it!” Simon vibrates in excitement, pointing at the sea and smiling brightly at his mom. She smiles back, smile lines appearing and wrinkles returning as she giggles.
“See? Wasn’t that awesome?”
“So awesome!”
Simon keeps that memory tucked closely next to his cold heart, one of the few good memories of his childhood he can still remember vividly. The smell of the ocean, the stickiness of his lips and hands, the texture of wet wood under his fingertips, his mother’s lopsided smile, the sound of the ocean and the exact shade of green that appeared.
He knows that shade of green like the back of his hand. He knows it because none of the trees, leaves, grass ever came close to how intense it was. Simon used to naively believe that that shade of green was only special for him and his mother. (Sans Tommy, because he was asleep)
But now, staring into Johnny, his Johnny’s eyes, the same exact shade of green that appeared in the sky 25 years ago, Simon doesn’t believe that anymore. The same shade of green smoke plumes up behind Johnny, surrounding him like a possessive hug. It felt sickeningly wrong. His eyes aren’t green. His eyes aren’t green. He knows it because he’s spent the last 478 days burning the image of him into his mind, not wanting to forget him, ever. His eyes aren’t green.
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deanstead · 18 hours
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I Have One Too
Characters: Dean Winchester; Leo Winchester (OC); Reader; Sam Winchester (mentioned)
Requested: yes, by anon and anon
Summary: Dean meets his son
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Word Count: 800+
Tags/Warnings: Dad!Dean
A/N: Thank you so much for this sweet ask!!! By popular request, this is the other perspective of Dean meeting and bonding with Leo. This can be read on its own but highly recommended to read this in line with Welcome Home!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST
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Dean paused just as he was about to step out of the library.
He’d been so caught up with everything - seeing you, you showing up with a kid in your arms that was almost a carbon copy of him, processing the fact that he had a son in the first place, and everything else in between he hadn’t really thought about this next part.
Dean could hear him laughing, which seemed to have the opposite intended effect.
“Dean?”
Your voice seemed to shake him out of the thoughts that were swirling in his head and he looked at you.
You paused when you saw the look in Dean’s eyes. It was almost foreign, a look that you might have seen before but didn’t see too often and it took you a moment before you realized what it was.
“He’s your son, of course he’ll like you.” You said quietly, reading his mind with absolute ease. “Come on.”
You gently pushed Dean out of the library.
Sam had put Leo onto the table right in the front and Leo was spinning his mini Impala around, seeming to have a ball of a time all on his own.
You nodded encouragingly at Dean, who approached Leo slowly, like he didn’t want to catch him off guard.
“Hey, Leo.”
Leo tore his eyes away from his toy car to look at Dean, his eyes flicking toward you.
You smiled and Leo took that as an approval but he looked back at Dean, blinking without saying anything.
“So you like cars, huh? That’s a cool one.” Dean continued, reaching out for another one that was sitting off by the side.
Dean warmed him up a little, playing with Leo, driving the toy cars around him, complete with sound effects. You watched, feeling your heart warm up, and you even felt the prick of tears.
“Actually, I have one just like that. Do you wanna see?” Dean asked.
Leo’s head snapped upward before he turned his body toward you.
You smiled and nodded at him. “You wanna go take a look?”
Leo nodded eagerly and you chuckled.
“Go ahead.” You smiled.
Dean gently reached out toward Leo, as if he was asking for permission and with barely any hesitation, Leo was climbing into Dean’s arms, eager to go.
Dean smiled, feeling the weight of the tiny guy in his arms as he hoisted Leo upward, before taking him out toward the garage.
“Car!” Leo yelled triumphantly as soon as he saw her.
“You know a good one when you see it don’t you?” Dean chuckled, supporting Leo on one arm before reaching to open the door of the Impala.
Dean reached in so he could put Leo right at the driver’s seat, which only served to thrill Leo even more. Leo looked around the car, his small body bouncing a little as he looked around, his own tiny Impala still clutched in his hand tightly.
As Dean watched him, he could already see it - working on the car with Leo, showing Leo everything he loved about Baby and more. And as that image pressed itself into Dean’s mind, Dean couldn’t help but feel a little worried about what the future held for them.
But he didn't have much space to overthink or worry as his attention was once again overtaken by Leo's yells of "vroom vroom", a direct echo of the sound effects Dean had made for him when they'd been inside.
The weather was a little chilly so Dean leaned toward Leo in the car.
“Hey buddy, let’s go back inside for today, alright?” Dean said gently.
Leo glanced back up at him, and Dean smiled. “Maybe we can go on a drive next time, what do you say?”
“Drive?” Leo asked.
Dean nodded with a smile and Leo reached out for Dean almost too naturally.
As Dean brought Leo back in, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, where you sat next to Sam, your eyes twinkling as you looked at Leo.
“Mama, we stay?” Leo asked.
Dean didn’t miss the way you froze, your eyes flicking to him, before you averted your eyes again and looked at Leo, as if you didn’t know how to answer him.
On impulse, fueled by a very real fear that he’d lose both you and Leo if you walked out that door again, he stepped right up to you. Leo, as if he could feel Dean’s emotions, put his small two-year-old arm around your neck, looping the three of you together.
There was a small silence, that was significantly less awkward than the silence you and Dean had shared in the library an hour earlier.
Dean then reached out for your hand and squeezed gently. “Stay.”
“I’m not going to lose you again. Not for anything in the world.” Dean added, after a short pause.
You smiled at Dean. “Yeah, we’re staying with Daddy and Uncle Sammy.”
Dean leaned in to give you a quick kiss, and as you stepped to the side to welcome the hug from Sam, Dean lifted Leo onto his shoulders, the bunker filled with his gleeful giggles.
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steifel · 1 day
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Ok so i've been thinking about the what ifs from the outsiders and the biggest one i've been thinking about (that i haven't seen very many people talk about) is what if the kid was Soda's?....
So anyways here are some head canons about that.
First off you cannot convince me this boy was not secretly a little stoked
I mean obviously he was scared since its quite literally the worst time possible, him and Sandy are only 16, him and Darry are already struggling to make ends meet, etc, etc, etc
However he wants like 12 kids so he is super excited
Soda is definitely terrified to tell Darry
He tries and falls to tell him multiple times
"Hay Darel can i talk to you for a second i got something i really need to tell you" Darry looks up "yeah im all ears go ahead" Soda runs away screaming "nevermind its not important" *insert Darry rolling his eyes and going back to whatever he was doing"
When he finally does get the balls to tell Darry he cant stand to look is brother in the eyes
"Sandy's pregnant" soda finally got the words out looking up at his big brother whos strong hands grabbed his shoulder. "Soda this isn't funny don't joke like that" a silent tear fell down Soda's face as he saw the look on Darry's "I an't joking Darry... Im being serious" more tears start coming from both of the boys as Darry pulls his brother into a tight hug "its gonna be ok Soda im still here it's gonna be ok"
Once they all got used to the idea the whole gang was super supportive
Two bit would be so stoked to be an uncle
"Wont it be great ill be uncle Keith" the whole gang stops and dally stairs into Twobits soul "fuck you mean uncle Keith? Your gonna be goddamn uncle Twobit"
The first thing Soda wants to do when he finds out is tell Ponyboy
This makes the week the boys were gone even harder
When he did finally get the chance to tell Ponyboy he was legitimately so excited
Like imagine them sitting in the hospital pony laying on Sodas lap
"Hay Pony i know you got a hell of a lot on your mind but i got something to tell you" "hmm" the younger boy hummed the only clue that he was still awake "your gonna be an uncle" Ponyboy shot up almost hitting Soda in the face "you mean..." Soda nodded "sandys pregnant im gonna be a dad" Ponyboy pulled Soda into an exited hug "can i name him?" Pony looked at his confused brother "its only fair seeing how you named me when you were 3 fucking years old" Darry started laughing louder than he had in weeks "come on Soda its only fair"
He never got the chance to tell Johnny and that fact will haunt him for the rest of his life
Once he finally feels like Pony is gonna be ok he spends every waking moment with Sandy
Hand on the belly 100% of the time
He is definitely the type of guy to talk to his kid in udero
Random shit too
"So anyway the wendsheald wiper was not coming off so Steve stepped on the hood of the car and put his whole weight into it and..." Sandy looked down at him smiling "you know most dads to be talk to their kids about how much they love them and your telling your future kid about some dumb shit you and Steve got up too" Soda scoffed faking offence " yeah its a funny story besides this kid needs to know what he's getting himself into being born into my gang"
He for sure tried to sneak a peak when Sandy was giving birth and he definitely passed out
Soda is CONVINCED its gonna be a boy
When the doctor announces"its a girl" he is legitimately confused
"What do you mean its a girl? Like he doesn't have a dick?"
Once he gets used to the fact that he has a daughter he is so Goddamn proud of her
He cries the first time he holds his daughter
Its literally adorable he'll be sitting there talking to her
"Hi little lady im your dad Sodapop and i love you so so so so much"
When he gets to show her off to the gang his smile is a mile wide
"Hi guys i want you to meet the newest member of the Curtis family" Soda said smiling as he showed his new daughter to all of his friends "she looks like a babydoll" Steve said softly as he reached for her little hand "hay thats a damn good name Babydoll" pony exclaims as he reaches out to hold his niece
AN: thanks for reading and allowing me to share some thoughts from the craziness that is my brain. As always i am so sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes i am just hella dislexic
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firebirdsdaughter · 2 years
Text
But on lighter notes…
… Words cannot describe how much I love Peter’s patented tiny proud dad smile every time Neal does something clever. Sure, it means ‘I’m so proud of you NEVER DO THAT AGAIN’ but it’s the thought that counts.
Although besides that, we also should not forget, however slightly rarer and more faint, Neal’s ‘my dad is so cool’ smile.
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screampied · 3 months
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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.
wc. 7.4k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.
dbf! masterlist
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“who’s he?”
a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.
“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”
“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”
you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”
“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”
“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.
that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.
nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.
of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.
apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.
your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.
you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.
you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.
stupid, maybe…
it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.
there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.
you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?
apparently, this guy.
toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.
it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.
to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.
“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.
your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.
the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.
“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…
returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”
you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”
“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”
you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”
“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, girl.”
the banter…
he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.
you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”
“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”
he was so annoying, entirely so.
it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.
toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.
but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…
to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.
intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.
parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.
speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.
the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.
steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”
your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.
throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.
“hey. is it anymore detergen—”
toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”
you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”
toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”
“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”
you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”
“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”
this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.
you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.
“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”
“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”
this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.
you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”
“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”
“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”
he simpers. “pretty please.”
“……”
again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.
“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.
“that’s a good girl.”
his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.
desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.
“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”
“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.
he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”
“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”
“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”
and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.
without a doubt, he was a messy eater.
just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.
you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.
he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.
the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.
“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”
“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”
“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.
toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.
he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.
so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.
cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”
he was so mean.
such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.
“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”
you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.
it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.
your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.
“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”
“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.
he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.
“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”
“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”
“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”
you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”
“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.
while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.
you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.
running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.
“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.
“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”
your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.
“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”
“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”
“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”
“okay honey, if you say so.”
toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”
you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”
“maybe.”
you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.
you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.
toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.
the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”
“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”
“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”
you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.
a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.
“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.
ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.
toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.
“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.
his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.
he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”
“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”
“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”
you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.
you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”
his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.
he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”
you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.
that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.
toji was a patient man, but only for so long.
the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”
toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.
he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.
he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.
slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.
he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.
albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.
momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.
“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”
it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”
“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”
to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.
toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.
he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.
toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.
entirely so, it was still risky.
your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.
like four hours ago . .
he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.
oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.
your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.
you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.
toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.
“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.
your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”
“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.
“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”
toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”
you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”
your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.
it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.
“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.
dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”
“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”
you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.
toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.
again…
it was probably the umpteenth time.
while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.
it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.
“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.
maybe that story is ready for another day though.
thankfully you didn’t get caught.
or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.
while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.
a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”
the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.
“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”
“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”
you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”
“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”
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motomamita · 26 days
Text
singledad!eddie × female!reader
warnings: smut, +18, breeding kink, no condom, use of alcohol, dub-con!!
Part. 2
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Singledad!Eddie who tries his best to be a good single dad. He takes his little baby to his job at the record store, where he spends several hours a day to earn a salary high enough to buy diapers and powdered milk.
Until one afternoon you saw him in the trailer park with his baby and you couldn't help but come over to admire the little girl. You bent down to pick it up, neglecting yourself and quickly flashing your boobs at Eddie, who from that moment on didn't stop thinking about you.
You kindly offered to take care of his baby on the afternoons when Eddie worked overtime at work. You really loved babies and you imagined that Eddie was really exhausted considering he was a single father. At first he denied, not wanting to take advantage of your good intentions, but when you insisted that it wasn't a problem while looking at him with your bright eyes, he couldn't help but say yes.
After work, Eddie would knock on the door of your trailer to look for his little baby who was babbling with excitement when she saw him and you couldn't stop telling him how well she had behaved. As the days went by, you invited him into your trailer and served him a nice plate of warm food for dinner while you fed his baby with a warm feeding bottle. That drove Eddie even more crazy, who began to fantasize about the idea of ​​having a small family with you and that it would become a routine. For that, he had to get you pregnant.
From then on, Eddie took advantage of every slightest excuse to see you and have you close to him. Did he need help putting his baby on a diaper? He was knocking on your door. Did he need help making a bottle of warm milk? He was knocking on your door. Did he need help giving his baby a cute hairstyle? He was knocking on your door.
Until one night, his baby wouldn't stop crying and he went straight to look for you.
"Little Lily doesn't want to go to sleep.." He explained, holding the little baby who couldn't stop crying while you entered his trailer. "I already gave her a bottle and even changed her diapers but I don't know what's going on!" He explained with exaggerated concern.
Your heart clenched as you heard the girl crying and how tired Eddie looked. "Oh! Poor little girl!" You murmured, approaching them and rubbing the little girl's back. "Do you have her pacifier handy?" you asked looking around his trailer.
"It is in her crib." He spoke remembering where he had left it.
You grabbed the little baby who rushed towards you, used to your scent and your secure hold. Eddie walked to the end of his trailer and you followed behind him, even with Lily crying intensely. The room was divided with pastel colors and bright toys on one side (obviously the baby's side), and a darker setting with rock posters on the other (Eddie's side).
"Here it is!" He exclaimed, approaching you and delicately placing the pacifier in the girl's mouth. Lily immediately stopped crying and began to suck on the light pink pacifier.
"That was what she needed" You smiled as you wiped the little girl's tears with one of your hands.
You both left the girl in the crib and half closed the door in case she cried again. Eddie walked you to the living room and bought you a beer, hoping that you would stay with him a little longer. You shared several beers until you were quite drunk and he was efficiently horny to take a step forward with you.
The kisses and caresses increased to the point where he had you naked under him in the mating press position. The summer heat made both of your bodies wet and his cum-filled balls slapped loudly against your butt. His thrusts were short but strong, giving you a rush of pleasure every time the tip of his cock hit your cervix, wanting to make you pregnant.
"Shit, baby.. You're so tight and wet, I bet you love fucking the single dad, huh?" his voice was agitated and low enough not to wake little Lily. You tried to respond but no coherent words came out of your mouth, only moans cut off by his aggressive thrusts.
Eddie took your hands and brought them above your head, immobilizing you almost completely. "I'm going to fuck you until your legs stop working- and you have to stay here with me forever.." He pressed your foreheads together, feeling his breath on your face. "...I'm going to make you my wife and you'll be here when I get home from work, in your slutty dresses, holding Lily in your arms... and with your stomach inflated with my baby inside you" you moaned loudly when you heard him and your legs took him. They hugged his waist tightly, bringing him closer to you.
Eddie used his free hand and brought it to your clit, massaging it vigorously and feeling how your walls enveloped his fat cock. "Keep your voice down, mommy, we don't want Lily to wake up before i get you pregnant..." he murmured and then silenced you with a rough, wet kiss.
"You're going to give me a beautiful baby, a little brother for my Lily..." at this point you could only nod your head like a fool, dazed by the pleasure and all the information. "Oh shit, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum inside you and you're going to carry my baby with you..!"
After that meeting, both of you continued with your routines but without talking about what had happened, until one day you were the one who knocked on his door. In your left arm you held Lily and in your right hand you had a pregnancy test. Positive.
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 month
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Post!prision!Reid seeing his daughter for the first time after he gets out 🥹 he gets so emotional because he can finally hold his baby again!
OMG OMG OMG!!!! can you imagine how teary he'd be!! post!prison dad!spencer x mom!reader, I hope you enjoy <3
You wish you could’ve been with the team at the prison, see him come out there in person, but you’re still on bedrest with your baby girl. Georgia is only a couple weeks old, but she’s so much Spencer’s twin- the same unruly curls, the same nose and the same want of you. 
You’d written all about her in your letters to Spencer, describing every feature he’s going to see today in so much detail you were sure he would see her clearly in his mind. 
“Honey?” He doesn’t shout lest he wake his daughter as he walks in, his fingers twitching with the need to see both of you. 
“I’m on the sofa baby,” it’s almost as if he was never gone. You lean over the sofa to see him pass through the kitchen, his hands holding a small bag. “I’m sorry I can’t stand to kiss you, Spence.” 
He tuts, leaning down over you, “Nonsense, how’re you feeling?” His eyes flit over to the cot beside you, roving over your daughter before settling back on you. 
“Like I missed you longer than you’ve been gone.” You’re waterlogged immediately and Spencer rounds the sofa to pull you into him. 
“I missed you too,” his lips press into your temple, “God I missed you both so much.” Tears wet your hairline but you can’t seem to care, Spencer’s home and he’s able to see your baby girl together. What more could you want?
“I brought you some snacks, I figured you hadn’t been able to get any of your cravings.” He says gently, opening a bag to show you all the chocolate malt balls, the yoghurt raisins and the nuts you’d just run out of. “I got something for Georgia too.” 
“Spence,” you gasp when you see the orange stuffed octopus that he pulls out, it’s just as big as Georgia is now. He wipes the tears that fall on your cheeks, kissing your nose before opening the tub of nuts for you. “Seventh smartest animal in the world.” you recall softly. 
“Can I hold her?” He asks finally and you nod, watching him stand and hover over the bassinet. 
“Just scoop her up Spence, she’s going to be so happy you’re home.” 
Spencer doesn’t say a word, practically holding his breath as he does as you say- scooping Georgia up in record time and holding her close to his chest. There’s a moment right after she wriggles a bit when she settles and Spencer feels an ungodly wave of emotion crash into him.
Of course, he’d read that men only feel like fathers the moment they hold their babies, and everyone had told him (everyone being Derek and JJ) that you can’t control the way your heart kind of cracks open to make room for this new love, but he still hadn’t expected it to be so immediate and visceral. 
“Hi Georgia,” he whispers, his tears rolling down the bridge of his nose as he strokes her cheek. “Hi sweet girl.” You’re enamoured already, looking at Spencer holding your daughter like she’s made of fine China. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were born, baby. But I promise I’m not missing anything else where you’re concerned.” 
Tears pool in your eyes as your daughter wakes up, no crying or wailing, just small coos and gurgles as she looks at Spencer. 
“It’s your daddy, Georgia.” You murmur, sniffling and wiping your eyes as Spencer hiccups as she reaches for his face, her little fist bumping into his jaw.
Her almond eyes stare up at him, blinking all slow as she takes him in. Then she smiles, as if she's put a face to the man who spoke to her every night, telling her all the facts he'd read and learnt about babies, animals and whatever soothing topic he could find to tell her while she lived in your belly.
“Your mom lied to me, you look just like her.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as Spencer gives you a little glare. “Those eyes are all her, Peach. Maybe you won’t get your daddy’s brain either- it’s no fun being smart and getting beat up.” You throw a cashew at Spencer then, making him chuckle and come sit beside you. 
“I’m so happy you’re home.” You whisper, stroking Georgia’s cheek as you press yours into Spencer’s bicep. 
“I’m happy to be back, angel.” his eyes remain transfixed to Georgia all day, holding her and touching her foot when he can’t because you have to feed her. Spencer thinks to himself that he’d live through prison a thousand times over if every time he gets out, he can come back to this moment, to the peace and serenity in your home with you and your little girl and the life you’d made together colouring every wall of the house.
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cheemscakecat · 4 months
Text
Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date
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Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.
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Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.
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Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].
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Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.
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Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.
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Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].
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There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.
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Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.
See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.
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He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”
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Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.
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Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].
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They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?
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This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.
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Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!
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This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.
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Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]
Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.
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Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.
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Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.
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ssahotchnerr · 11 months
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okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭
Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭
(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)
keeping score
🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k
early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.
as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.
but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.
"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.
you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."
he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.
however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"
your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."
"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."
his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.
you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.
but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.
"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."
it hadn't rained last night.
the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.
as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.
"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"
you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.
"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.
"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.
your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.
just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.
while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.
and a minute or two later, aaron joined.
as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.
"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"
you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."
"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."
with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.
"how are you feeling?"
"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.
"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"
oh.
"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."
aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.
so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.
"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.
aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."
aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.
and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.
"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."
"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.
"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."
you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.
once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.
"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.
aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."
"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."
a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"
"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."
he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"
"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."
aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."
"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."
"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."
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hopesworlld · 3 months
Text
౨ৎ oh ! dear diary, i met a boy !
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౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — your stepbrother anakin finds your diary full of all your dirty little secrets
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 6k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, smut ( masturbation f and m, oral sex f and m, vibrator, degradation, praise, use of the term slut/little slut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, overstimulation ) i think that’s all !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — someone call the psych ward immediately !
part two part three masterlist
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anakin groaned in annoyance as he stormed up the steps at his mothers command asking him to fetch his stepsister for some reason or another. he barged into your bedroom not bothering to knock, he always liked seeing you jump, sometimes you were on your bed, phone dropping from your hands as your lips parted in surprise. other times you were perched at your vanity catching his eye in the mirror with horrified delight. but his favourite would always be when he entered your room to find you clad in nothing but a pair of white panties. your face had been painted crimson, eyes clutching your breasts but he could still see your rosy nipples peeking beneath your manicured nails, pert from the cold winter air.
but this time, much to his disappointment he found the room empty, your fairlights glittered along the ceiling and the pink lamp beside your bed cast light on the little book had seen you clutching to your chest every so often, it was hot pink and dotted with stickers of various celebrities that he despised. you had always been protective of it, even your father had once gained a slap to the hand when he tried to touch your book. so anakin knew he had no choice, he slowly entered the room further, noting the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. perfect.
he crossed your room in a matter of seconds and scooped up the book, flicking through a couple pages, the first few he saw held nothing of interest and he skimmed through. there were no dates but he could tell they were from before your father and shmi had bought the house and blended your family, he read a few sentences of you complaining about school, and friend drama and almost called it a bust. his innocent priss of a stepsister was the same in her diary as she was every day. that was until he skipped ahead and found his name appearing. with new found interest he settled down on your bed.
/ anakin came back from college today and he actually looked happy to see me, or he smiled when he got out of the car which is a first. i wish he would smile more, he looks so pretty when he smiles.
anakin scoffed at this, rolling his eyes, this had only been a few weeks ago and he had been laughing at a text just moments before, but of course you would think he was happy to see you. you always greeted him the same, glossy lips twisted in a saccharine smile as you bounced on the balls of your feet, begging for an ounce of attention from him. it was ridiculous, but he had to know more.
/ anakin is fixing up dad’s old car in the driveway so that he can use it, i’ve never been so happy for my father’s hoarding tendencies in my life. i was sat at my window for two hours today watching him. he was wearing that black wife beater, the one that makes his arms look even bigger than usual, so muscly and strong. i wonder what it would feel like for him to pick me up, and feel his muscles against my back, they look so good when they’re tensed. he was so sweaty too, i wanted to run out there and lick it from his skin, how disgusting but wow, i wish i took a picture of him like that. soaked in sweat and oil.
anakin’s jaw was agape, his sweet innocent stepsister wasn’t such an angel as he once thought. his dick twitched beneath his sweatpants at the thought of you perched on your window seat with a perfect view of him working rubbing your thighs together, desperate for his touch, his taste. it was taboo, disgusting, your parents were married and here you were writing dirty little fantasies. he loved it. addicted to the words you had spilled across the page in pretty gel pens.
/ dad asked me why i was so distracted today at dinner, how could i not be? anakin came down in just shorts and i swear i could see everything, he’s bigger than i imagined, i probably wouldn’t even be able to fit my hand around it, but ellen said boys like that. i wonder what it looks like, i’ve only ever seen them in porn. anakin didn’t even notice anything was off with me, didn’t notice me staring. i wish he would.
“fuck,” anakin hissed, his dick was now almost fully hard and throbbing. who knew you were such a slut, fantasising about his cock at the dinner table. if he had known… god he wanted to fucking ruin you. show you how to take his dick, watch as you choked and cried around it as he forced it past your swollen lips. he wanted to paint you in his cum and not stop until you were a shaking writhing mess. he knew you were hot, had thought it the second he saw you, your hair in braids clad in ivory like some kind of fallen angel but had pushed it away, you were his stepsister for fuck sake, but now…
/ he walked in on me changing today, i was only in my underwear and he laughed, but i caught him staring at my boobs, i made sure not to cover them properly and it worked. i got so wet, i don’t think i’ve ever come so hard before. i wanted him to do something, walk over to me and rip my hands away, push me on the bed and fuck me till i saw stars, but instead i just had to use my vibrator. sometimes i wish he could hear me moaning through the wall, maybe he can.
“little fucking slut,” anakin said to himself as he glanced across the page, hand cupping his rock hard cock through his trousers, your words were depraved, desperate. maybe he should walk into the bathroom right now and take you like you were so desperate for, you would have no trouble spreading your legs for him, would probably beg for it, do anything he asked. his perfect little fuck toy. he couldn’t help himself anymore, spitting on his hand and slipping it down his trousers tugging at his cock as he continued to read.
/ i bought a dildo today from ann summers but i’m scared, my fingers are so small compared to it, the woman said it was about average but wow. no matter how much prep i do it hurts. i bet anakin would feel better, the silicon is so hard and cold. i wore one of his t-shirts it smells like him, that helped a little but it’s not the same, i’ve heard his stories when he talks to his friends about the girls he’s fucked. he knows what he’s doing, i wonder how he would take me, on my back nice and slow, or pound into me from behind while i screamed. maybe he would call me angel like he does sometimes, i wish. now my arm just hurts so i’m here alone in my bed playing with my clit wishing it was him.
anakin jerked against his hand at the last sentence, he had never cum this quickly before, but your words had him loosing his shit, he couldn’t even imagine what else you thought if this was only what you choose to write down, what other dirty secrets lurked beneath that pretty facade of pink and glitter. the next page held a collection of polaroids you had taken of him, some from the window as he worked on his car, skin sheened in sweat and oil, shirtless as he drank a bottle of water. another of him laying on the sofa arm resting behind his head a can of beer in hand, and the last was him glaring at the camera. he remembered this one, he had demanded you rip it up, but here it was immortalized with pink and purple hearts surrounding it. but the next page was from today.
/ anakin came home from playing baseball with his friends about an hour ago, he was gross, sweaty and loud after hours with his friends. he slid past me in the kitchen his hands on my hips for just a second i wish he would have bent me over the counter and fucked me there and then. i would have let him, dad was in the living room but i don’t care, god, he’s ruined me. all i can think about is him, his cock, his hands, his lips. i need him. i’m gonna go shower, i was meant to help shmi with dinner but i couldn’t, not when i was soaking through my panties while stood next to her fantasising about her son.
“oh fuck,” anakin hissed as he came into his fist, cum coating his boxers and knuckles. you were insane, and maybe so was he for getting so worked up but he knew he couldn’t hold back now, he had seen those words and there was no going back. a bit shakily he stood from the bed wiping his hands on his sweatpants and grabbing the sparkly pen from your desk and decided to leave a little note of his own in your dirty little diary.
/ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl
and with that he left your bedroom, cum drying on his boxers, he could only hope you found his note sooner rather than later.
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after your shower you felt a lot better, you had turned the water considerably cooler than usual and taken some deep breaths you had learned from yoga, pushing anakin far from your mind, you let the ritual of getting redressed soothe your mind, slipping into a soft matching set of white shorts and a crop top, leaving your hair loose and applying your skin care. you almost felt like yourself, untainted by the dirty thoughts that seemed perpetually in your mind.
you wished it would stop, you hated yourself for it, your father was finally happy after years of thinking he would never find love again after your mother had passed. if he knew what you were thinking he would be disgusted, he would probably send you off to your aunt to protect anakin and shmi from your sick mind, the thought made your stomach hurt. you wanted to stop you really did, but then you would see him and all those dirty thoughts would slip back in, he was haunting you.
you headed downstairs, an airpod pressed in one ear hoping some music would soothe your guilty mind, finding shmi in the kitchen. the woman smiled in relief when she saw you.
“there you are, i sent ani up to get you half an hour ago,” she said a little flustered and instantly your heart dropped, you didn’t know why she was upset but she had needed you. you hated upsetting people, ‘always a people pleaser’ your mother had used to scold you fondly.
“i’m so sorry, anakin never told me,” you said truthfully and the woman sighed before laughing begrudgingly.
“my son has many talents, listening has never been one of them,” she said with a fond smile before turning back to the stove, “i’m making your dad that soup he loves so much but this recipe seems wrong, think you could help me out?” she requested holding out a sheet of paper to you and you took it immediately, nodding happily.
“of course,” you beamed, “well firstly it’s chicken stock not vegetable stock,” you informed her, “and secondly use heavy cream instead of milk, he likes the taste more. but other than that it seems perfect”
“really?” she asks you, face a little tight.
“yep, we always make it a little different depending on what we have but you have got this down to a t now i would say, and dads gonna love it,” you said and shmi finally smiled again, you hated when she frowned, it made her seem much older, an echo of the struggling woman she had once been and she didn’t deserve that, she never did.
“want to stay and help me make it?” she asked and you accepted. the pair of you worked in tandem, and soon you had a delicious pot of soup bubbling on the stove ready to be served along with homemade grilled cheese.
“okay, i’m gonna go grab your dad from the den do you mind getting, ani,” shmi asked and you agreed despite yourself, bounding out of the kitchen and up the stairs to anakin’s room, knocking once, then twice and then three times before you finally got a response.
“come in,” he called out, so you swung the door open, expecting a scowl or a blank stare but instead he was smirking widely at you, as though he knew something you didn’t and it made your skin crawl. “oh, hey, angel,” he greeted. fuck.
“dinners ready,” you told him, proud that you managed to keep your voice steady and his face dropped a little bit before his smile suddenly widened again.
“and you came to get me?” he asked teasingly, your stomach tightened, twisting into a ball and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. he was going to kill you.
“your mum asked me to,” you say shortly, spinning around and walking away, taking a deep breath as you did so. stupid, stupid, stupid…
“angel,” anakin said again, and that name was going to send you into overdrive, a flush growing on your cheeks. “not gonna wait for me? that’s not very nice,” he complained and you shook your head.
“are you high?” you asked him as you reached the landing but anakin grabbed your wrist stopping you from heading down the steps.
“what makes you say that?” he asked you, drawing closer to you so that your faces were only inches apart, you could feel his hot breath fanning on your cheeks, see deep into his eyes, so pretty and blue beneath the crystalline lights above.
“your acting strange,” you pointed out with a frown, anakin was never nice to you, he was cordial sometimes, blunt others and sometimes he was simply rude, but never this. never teasing and friendly and chasing you down through the halls of your home to chat. it was as unnerving as it was utterly addictive.
“i just learned something new today, something that’s changed my perspective a little bit,” he crooned, hand coming up and resting on the wall beside your head, you blinked at him. what the fuck?
“what did you learn?” you asked him curiously and anakin grinned, a beautiful blinding thing that took your breath away.
“you’ll see,” was all he said before withdrawing from you and heading down the steps leaving you flabbergasted where you stood, heart racing and core throbbing. “come on, angel, don’t wanna be late for dinner,” he called up to you and you followed soundlessly, wondering if you had accidentally fallen into a different dimension while in the shower.
dinner was normal, or as normal is it could be with anakin acting so out of character, he was chatting like he hadn’t seen anyone in years, some kind of newfound zest for life that even had his mother seemed confused about but accepted with open arms. it was nice to see anakin talking, usually, he would mutter a few words before disappearing back to his room.
“yea, i was thinking of working at the garage next term to get a little extra cash, you know where you’re going to colleague next year, angel?” anakin asked, you looked over at him a little wide-eyed at the nickname in front of your parents, but glancing at them you saw that they both seemed… pleased.
“um, i have a few options actually, still not sure,” you murmured, still lost in what was happening, but it was making your head spin.
“she’s been looking at your school a bit,” your dad cut in, “it’s got a great program for what she wants to study,”
“oh really? maybe i could set something up for you, or maybe just give you a show around of the school next term, let you see what it’s really about,” anakin suggested with a smile and shmi beamed.
“oh that's a lovely idea, ani dear,” she exclaimed, “what do you think, sweetheart?” she asked her eyes darting to you and you pulled your lips into a smile.
“yea that sounds great,” you agreed, glancing back at anakin who sent you a wink. you almost groaned, rubbing your thighs together, you thought anakin being mean to you was enough to send you spiraling, spilling dirty fantasies into your book but him being nice was going to send you into a whirl of delusions that were going to be detrimental to your mental health if it continued.
once dinner was finished you rushed to your room, ready to spill your guts into your diary, you grabbed it from your bedside table and flicked to the next open page, your heart dropping to your stomach when you saw the words scrawled on the page.
\ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl
“oh my god,” you whispered to yourself, tossing the book down onto the bed, horror-struck. you knew that handwriting, had seen it many times before and now here it was taunting you in a book full of your sick twisted fantasies that all featured him. you felt nauseous, bile rising in your throat, is this why he was so happy, some sort of twisted revenge? had he taken pictures of it? did he plan on showing your dad? “this can’t be happening,” you whispered to yourself.
“i see you found my note,” a cocky voice echoed from behind you, you span around, lips trembling and anakin’s brows furrowed slightly.
“please don’t tell my dad, i’m so sorry anakin. i know it’s wrong and disgusting but please he will never forgive me if i ruin this for him, he loves your mum so much and i…” the world were tumbling from your lips so quickly you could hardly process them, not even noting as anakin shut the door behind him and crossed the room so that he was stood before you, “i’m sorry,” you practically wailed, “you were never supposed to see that, it was just somewhere to put down my thoughts,” tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “please don’t hate me,”
“you gonna be quiet now?” anakin asked you once you finally stopped rambling and you nodded through sniffles, vision blurred by your tears. “good,” he whispered, reaching up and cupping your cheek, “i’m not gonna tell your dad, angel,” he said soothingly, “not when i know how much fun we can have now,” anakin said with a smile.
“what… what are you saying?” you asked him. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right now. no way.
“i’m saying, that i wanna see just how dirty you can be, angel,” he cooed, “i wanna know the darkest parts of that fucked up little mind of yours,” your breathing hitched, raising your hands to wipe the tears from your ruddy cheeks and staring at him in disbelief.
“anakin…” you whispered, “this is wrong,”
“oh i know that, baby, but it didn’t stop you from burying your fingers into your cunt and imagining it was me. from laying in bed only a room away from me and moaning my name while you tried to use a dildo on yourself wishing it was me,” he hummed, “and what was it that you wrote earlier? that you were picturing me bending you over with your dad in the next room, that you couldn’t be with my mother in the kitchen because you were dripping down your thighs thinking about me,”
“oh fuck,” you moaned, hearing him depict your fantasies, the things you had said were driving you wild, something stirring within you, it set your veins alight with molten flames, spreading through your body and stirring your aching cunt, you could feel your arousal flooding your panties, sticky and wet, you didn’t know what to do, what to think but you needed him, more than you had ever needed anything in your life.
“that’s it, angel, i wanna hear every pretty sound you can make fall from your pretty lips,” anakin prompted, one hand falling to your hips and pulling you in so that your flush was pressed against him another moan falling from your lips when you felt his half hard cock press against your stomach. “what is it you want, tell me, what dirty secret are we sharing tonight?” he asked you.
“kiss me, just kiss me please,” you begged, and anakin obliged crashing his lips to yours, it was messy, all teeth and tongue and spit. immediately he was diving in, tongue prying through your lips and plunging into your mouth, he tasted of smoke, mint and sugar and instantly you were addicted. your hands rose to his shoulders, tugging him closer you wanted to feel every part of him. your hands tugged at his t-shirt wanting to taste his skin, to see him everywhere.
“so eager, baby,” he muttered against your lips before reaching behind him, tugging his t-shirt over his head revealing the planes of his chest and his toned stomach to your awaiting eyes, you had seen him shirtless many times before, but now you could touch him. “take what you want,” he grinned and you did just that, fingers dipping into every crevice, you explored him as though one would a fine piece of art you wanted to memorise the feeling of his skin, the taste, you hardly thought twice before leaning down and kissing the middle of his chest, running your tongue along the unblemished skin, moaning at the taste of salt and skin. “god,” the boy murmured, reaching down and grasping your hair, yanking your head back harshly, “take my sweatpants off,” he commanded and you were not one to disobey, not now, not when you had him.
you wrapped your hands around the waist band and tugged, gasping when his dick sprung free, unrestrained by any boxers beneath, he was already hard, really hard, his cock flushed a deep red, the tip weeping milky precum and gods were you right, he was big, long and thick, far bigger than the dildo you had purchased. you salivated at the sight.
“can i…” you whispered, slowly trailing off, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.
“tell me what you want, angel, this is your dirty little dream, i’m just helping make it come true,” anakin said and you nodded, taking a deep breath.
“wanna taste you, ani, can i?” you asked him gently, batting your lashes at him and the boy hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching in a way that made your entire body sing.
“fuck me, go ahead, pretty girl, show me what that mouth is actually good for,” his words were disgusting, a sick way of calling your words worthless and it made you go fucking feral, you sank to your knees, eyeing his cock a little unsurely before carefully wrapping a hand around his thick length, anakin groaned, watching you, eyes alight with interest.
“look at that you were right,” he told you, “your hand can’t even fit around it,” he said, and you shuddered, ingjerking your hand slightly, letting itit glide along the velvety skin of his cock, admiring it, and the sound he made was worth it, so much so that you leaned in, licking a stripe along the side of his cock, stopping once you reached the tip and suckling it gently. a.nakin’s hands fell to your hair gripping it, but not forcing you, he was letting you explore first, you bobbed you head, sinking deeper on his cock, the sensation was strange but not unpleasant. so you took him deeper, the salty taste of him drawing you in further, you pulled back, sucking in a deep breath before taking him deeper until it hit the back of your throat. you were hardly halfway down his cock, so you tried again this time more forcefully, choking when his cockhead rammed into the back of your throat.
“easy, baby,” anakin cooed, pulling you off of his cock, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, spit spilling down your chin.
“you’re so big,” you whined at him accusingly making the boy laugh, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“poor little slut, so desperate for cock but has no clue what she’s doing,” he patronised, thumb trailing down and hooking in your mouth, parting your lips for him, you let your mouth fall open. “gotta take it slow, you aren’t gonna take it all the first time, okay? probably not for a few times, gotta train that throat of yours to take cock, huh?” he asked and you nodded at him, unable to speak with his thumb in you mouth. “try again, huh,” he prompted and you nodded eagerly, this time letting anakin guide your mouth to his awaiting cock, you followed his instructions going slower this time, starting at just the tip suckling it, savoring the taste of his salty cum in your mouth but eventually anakin began to push you further with a groan. you swallowed around him, trying to remember to breathe with the heavy weight on your tongue, your mouth felt stretched, lips stinging, and jaw aching but you couldn’t stop. you needed this, needed him to cum, to know he was enjoying this as much as you were.
“good girl, that’s it,” anakin praised you and you preened, moaning around his cock and making the boy chuckle, “oh you like that, huh, pretty girl? wanna be my good girl?” you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak so instead you locked your eyes with his and this time it was anakin’s turn to moan. “you look so fucking sexy like this, should have known you made for it,” you bobbed your head faster in agreement, it felt wrong to agree, to accept that you were just some sort of object that was made to take dick and love it, but you couldn't argue. not now when you had tasted his cock and you knew you would never be the same again, this was it for you, a springboard into a world that would drive you insane.
“you keep going i’m gonna cum, you ready for that, angel?” he asked you, but you didn’t respond, only forcing him deeper, spluttering slightly but you didn’t pull back, instead taking a settling breath through your nose, spit was dripping down your chin, tears streaming but you couldn’t stop, continuing to choke on his cock, only pulling away when you absolutely had too and it was barley for a few seconds before you were on him again. it was only about a minute before anakin’s hips began to twitch, his cock heavier in your mouth.
 “i’m gonna cum, fuck, baby pull back a little you don’t wanna choke,” he prompted and you did as you were told. lips suctioned around his tip, using your hand to jerk off the rest of his cock and with that, he was cumming down your throat in thick hot spurts. it was disorientating and everything you had ever dreamed of. you swallowed as much as you could of the salty liquid, but some escaped the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your plush carpet, you kept suckling until anakin pulled you away, his lips parted and cheeks flushed.
“that was…” he trailed off voice hoarse, “you did such a good job, angel,” he cooed, reaching out and helping you stand up, your knees ached and you felt a little shaky but you couldn't ignore the heat in your core and the sopping wetness between your legs.
“i liked it,” you said bashfully, voice scratchy.
“of course you did,” anakin mocked lightly but there was no malice behind his words, instead he reached down and grabbed his shirt using it to mop your cheeks and mouth, “come on i wanna try something,” he said, grabbing you hand and leading you over to your bed, “lay down, pretty girl,”
“what are you doing?” you asked him softly and he grinned.
“just lay down, okay, i’m gonna do the work for a bit,” he said, so you followed instruction and laid down on the bed, looking up at him with such innocent trust that it made his heart stutter slightly, “i’m gonna take your top off okay?” he said, climbing onto the bed with you and hovering over you, his legs stradling either side of your hips, he looked so big like this, tall and strong, body on show as he looked down at you.
“okay,” you agreed, letting anakin tug the crop top from your body leaving your chest bare to him.
“been waiting a while to see these again,” he murmured, finger pinching your nipple lightly, you gasped, jolting upwards at the sensation and anakin laughed, “sensitive girl,” he teased, pinching your other nipple, using his body to keep you pinned to the bed. “what was it you said in that dirty little book when i saw your tits for the first time?” he asked you, “hm, let’s have a look shall we?” he said grabbing the book from where it lay only a few inches away from you. your cheeks lit up in shame, shaking your head.
“ani, no,” you pleaded with him but the boy shot you a harsh stare.
“what was that, baby?” he questioned, tone stern, “i thought you wanted this? want me to leave you to deal with this alone like you always do, seeing my cock should do you a good couple months, and you even got to taste it,”
“don’t leave” you begged, “i’m just embarrassed,” you whimper, this brought the smile back to anakin’s face.
“you don’t need to be embarrassed, pretty girl, without this little thing you would probably still be downstairs watching tv with your dad trying not to think about me, isn’t that right?” he asked, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your swollen lips.
“yes,” you said quietly, “just don’t be mean, i really… i needed you. i need you,”
“oh, baby, but you like it when i’m a little mean don’t you?” he snickered, “but back to what i was saying, where is it?” he asked flicking through the pages of the book before he found what he was looking for, “ah, here it is. you wanted me to push you onto this bed and fuck you till you saw stars,” you whimper at this, “and look how proud you were that you caught me staring at your tits,” he grinned, “pretty things aren’t they,” he leaned down, capturing your right nipple between his teeth, nibbling slightly before sucking it into his mouth. the sensation was too much, you gasped, trying to jerk against him but anakin was too strong, he bit down on your nipple, a warning before soothing it with his tongue, moving and doing the same to the other one until you were a panting mess.
“good girl,” he praised, “now this wasn’t what i wanted to do actually, just had to get a taste,” he told you with a wink and you blinked at him stunned. “where do you keep your vibrator, angel?” anakin questioned you.
“um, my bedside draw,” you murmured and anakin nodded, leaning over and opening up and pulling out your pretty pink vibrator.
“cute,” he said, “now, baby, i want to see you use this, okay? wanna know what you look like when you are playing with yourself and thinking about me,” he crooned.
“ani, i’m… fuck okay,” you said reaching out and taking the vibrator from him, anakin climbed off of you and you immediately missed the weight of him atop of you but ignored it was you yanked your shorts and panties down, revealing your throbbing pussy to anakin, the boy groaning in apprecation.
“holy shit, you’re fucking soaked, angel,” he crooned, “look at your clit, all puffy and red. all from sucking my cock?” anakin asked and you nodded, cheeks crimson. “you are a dream, pretty girl,” your clit pulsed at his words and quickly you pressed your vibrator to it before switching it on. your body writhed at the contact, you had been desperate for this for what felt like hours, every inch of your being aching for relief as you trailed the toy down, soaking it in your wetness before bringing it back to your clit, moaning at the feeling.
“fuck, anakin, feels so good” you cried out, tilting your head to look at him and seeing him gazing at your pussy in awe.
“i bet it does, angel, you were so sore, so desperate for this,�� he said, reaching out and trailing a finger along your dripping slit, your hips jerked, heart pounding, “gonna come that quick, fuck, do it, baby,” he prompted. you pressed the toy harder to your clit gasping and crying out, the sight of anakin before you, the months of waiting, wanting, it all built up and before you could even react the coil in your stomach snapped and you came with a sharp moan, the vibrator still pressed to your cunt as you twitched through the aftershocks of your orgasm. then you felt it, something wet and warm trailing through your fold, you looked down to see anakin now lying between your legs, his tongue buried in your cunt.
“ani” you sobbed, switching the vibrator off and tossing it to the side, anakin taking this as his chance to wrap is lips around your clit and suck. you all but screamed, still strumming with pleasure and overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you, it was hypnotic.
“did i tell you to stop?” he asked pulling back and grabbing the vibrator and flicking it on, pressing to to your abused clit, you gasped, looking down at him with wide eyes, “you are gonna hold this while i eat you out okay, you move it and i’ll stop,” he commanded.
“but, ani, it’s so sensitive,” you told him and anakin simply scoffed.
“you can take it, sluts like you can come as many times as you need to, bet you are still aching for relief,” he said pressing it down harder and you screeched, “take it,” and you did, grabbing the toy from his hand and holding it there as he burried his tongue back inside of you, licking into your sopping walls.
“oh my god, oh my god, anakin please,” you begged one hand slipping down to his hair, tugging on the dark strands with a sob. the vibrator on your clit was brutal, stirring up another orgasm in quick sucession to the last but anakin didn’t stop, he continued to lick and suck while you trembled, slick pouring from your slit as you jerked violently, cumming twice before anakin finally let up.
“you taste fucking divine, angel,” anakin said, his face glossy with your cum, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think as he switched the vibrator off and tossed it to the ground. “fuck me, i’ve never seen such a pretty girl before,” he crooned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up your body and pressing a dirty kiss to your lips. he tasted of salt and your release and it made your body ache once more.
“ani, ani, please,” you begged against his mouth, you werent sure exactly what you were begging for but you needed it, needed him.
“sh, angel, its okay,” he said gently, running his hands down your hips sothingly, “tell me what you need” he prompted and you wailed, he looked stunned, “hey, come on talk to me, too much?” he questioned but you shook your head violently.
“need to feel you,” you said through heaving breaths, clumsily reaching out and grasping his cock that pulsed in your hand, he spluttered out a moan, rocking his hips into you, head of his cock catching your clit with such delicious pleasure that you swore you almost saw stars. “inside,” you demanded, words failing you in that moment of utter want.
“need to prep you first,” he said, gently removing your hands from his cock before sliding his fingers through your throbbing heat finding your slit with ease and slowly sinking one finger in.
“more,” you begged almost instantly, hands clinging to his shoulders and anakin complied, sinking another finger inside of you, pumping into your wet heat as you babbled and cried.
“never imagined i would have you like this, so desperate for me,” anakin panted, “wanna know a secret, i’ve wanted this for so long, have pictured taking you so many times,” he whispered, “i came reading your diary, seeing how much you wanted me,”
“anakin,” you said, hands coming to his cheeks cupping them so that he would face you, you could see the raw desire that danced behind his pretty blue eyes, “i’m ready, please,” and he complied, slowly lining his cockhead with your swollen hole slowly inching in. the burn was intense, a tearing feeling consuming your cunt even as you leaked more slick onto his sodden cock. you gasped, more tears streaming down your cheeks as anakin slowly inched deeper.
“you can do it, baby, doing so well for me,” he praised as he sunk deeper, inch by inch before burying himself at the hilt and staying there, “look at that, angel, you did it,”
“oh, oh fuck,” it was nothing like your dildo that was all solid plastic and cold feel, instead it was warm and hard and sending your body into overdrive, it took a few moments to adjust to the feel of it, the intrusive weight uncomfortable but not unwelcomed, and it was all worth it to see anakins face. his eyes screwed up in pleasure, bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he tried to stay still for you. “move, you can move, please,”
“you sure, baby,” anakin gasped, voice tight.
“yes, please,” you agreed, he started slow at first, gentle shalow thrusts that allowed you to get used to the feeling of it, but soon he began to speed up, sinking deeper inside of you with each thrust until you could feel the tip pressing against your cervix, the pleasure was indescribable, you never knew it could feel like this, so all consuming. “yes, yes, harder,” you pleaded with him.
“you sure,” he gasped out.
“yes, i’m okay,” you nodded, and anakin listened, suddenly there was nothing between you but the heat of your skin and the slick of your bodies, a mix of sweat, cum and spit. it was disgusting, a sick merging of your bodies, anakin’s face was burried in your neck, sucking crimson marks onto your sensitive skin while you clawed at his back, manicured nails cutting into his golden skin.
“shit, you feel fucking amazing,” anakin said against your skin, grinding deeper, “such a good little pussy for me, taking me so well,” he told you, “you need to come on my cock again, wanna feel you cleanch around me, okay?” he said and you nodded frantically.
“please, ani,”
“that’s it, good girl,” he cooed, thumb coming between you to circle your clit, you could feel your orgasm building as he jerked into you, his thrusts getting sloppy and you knew he was close, could tatse it on your tongue, you needed it, needed him. “i own this pussy now,” he hissed, “gonna make every single one of your dirty fantasies come true and then we can try some of mine,” anakin told you, thumb speeding up and pleasure exploded behind your eyelids, everything went white and you were gone. when you came too anakin was hovering over you still cock in hand jerking himself off frantically.
“ani,” you whispered, hand coming up shakily and grasping his cock jerking it lightly and anakin came in thick hot spurts all over your chest and face while you took it happily. he collapsed down beside you, pulling you in so your face was pressed against his chest, leg cocking over his hips. “wow,” was all you managed to say.
“better get ready baby, this was only the beginning,” anakin smirked, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forhead and you couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store for you, and you thanked the stars that you had made that little diary.
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part 2???
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stvolanis · 4 months
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Now i know you better
PAIRINGS: Alastor x Fem!Sinner!Reader
WARNINGS: ANGSTTTT, mean!Alastor, cheating w/ Lucifer, probably inaccurate time line idk, foul language,this is honestly kind of poorly written I’m sorry, manipulation, abuse, Alastor owns Readers soul, toxic relationship, possessive!Alastor, pet names, brief mention of suicide
NSFW WARNINGS: dubcon, slapping, hair pulling, choking, forced cream-pie, degradation, dacryphilia, p in v sex, knotting, humiliation, blood if you squint
SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
It wasn’t your fault that your grave was dug the moment you stepped foot into the fiery pits of hell.
It wasn’t your fault that it was dug by Mimzy when she introduced you to her dear friend, the Radio Demon who, oh so casually, casted peoples screams for hell to hear.
Mimzy, known to drag people into her messes when shit hits the fan, had deeply embedded you into an on-going war with one of the various overlords, simply by seeking a place to lay low for a few days. You didn’t expect Alastor to show up, that damned smile engraved onto his face.
And it most definitely wasn’t your fault that you laid in said grave.
He was charming, and charismatic. A lethal combination when a sense of confidence and dad-humor was thrown into the mix. The way you met wasn’t the most ideal, especially when he basically bombarded through you, inviting himself into your wrecked home to find Mimzy himself without a word.
His smile, then, seemed aggravated. He did little to hide the annoyance she had somehow caused him, and the way his voice grew in static when he spoke showed that. He was scary when you had watched his figure enlarge, his once normal, slim body now turning into a tall, beastly, and lanky figure with protruding antlers and dilated pupils.
Dread set into your core that day when he directed his wrath towards you. His tall frame stalking over you, a hand quickly shot to your throat. Your back hit against the wall as you were lifted from the ground, gasping for breaths of any air you could possibly get.
His breath was drug out and uneven as his chest moved up and down at a surprisingly slow pace. Even though he seemed to be filled of fury and unease—he had a sense of control over his calmness to an extent. Eerily, he had glided his mouth along your neck, inhaling your scent.
A harsh groan, almost as if he were in pain had slipped past his lips. It rumbled deep in his chest, and your eyes watered as your vision began to fade. Only then, did he release you and let your body fall to the floor. You held your throat gently as you finally got what you were begging for.
“Maybe you’ll listen, since sweet Mimzy won’t.” He began, his voice deep and contorted with static and brute. “You will fix the mess she created, and restore what was mine to begin with. Your soul will be mine until you have fulfilled your duty as said.” He finished.
Your mouth gaped. He had presented it to you like you had a choice in the devastating matter, but you knew better. You sobbed as your curled into a ball, and watched as he raised a hand towards your frame that wracked with sobs. “Hush now, girl. You will be under my care so long as I’ll have you.” He ushered with a grimace as he watched you wipe your nose with your wrist.
You longed to object. To scream and yell out that never in a million and one light years would you ever agree to such a thing. Your freedom was yours alone, and you liked to keep it that way. He’d have to drag you through hell and back for you to allow that to happen, yet as you took his sharp hand into yours, it was all said and done.
A bright light consumed you, and just for a moment, you thought maybe it was the light shower everyone talked about up in heaven. The bright beacon of a light so blinding that cleansed you of all your wrong-doings, took away all your pain and replaced the emptiness with a euphoric feeling of content.
Warmth spread throughout your body, and that moment of hope ended when you felt thick, heavy metal of chains cling around your throat and wrists. Alastors smile haunted you. It crept up on you in your dreams, and ate away at the only good things you had left to hold onto.
The life you once cherished, even in hell, soon faded away till it was nothing but a faint distant memory of someone you once knew that was yourself. It was replaced by an evil demon, in the form of a gentleman who disguised plots and alterier motives with wide smiles and laughs.
but again, you knew better.
The person you once were was stripped from you, and you were bare before him to bend and mold how he saw fit. And so, he did. You became his his underboss of sorts, a quiet and submissive being who did as told. They always said behind every powerful man, there was a woman. And it was you. Everyone got the good side of Alastor, yet it was you he took his frustrations out on when the day was said and done.
It was you who endured his aggressiveness when everyone was fast asleep in their bedrooms, dreaming of a better life you knew you’d never receive.
You were his lap dog, and his favorite toy to play with whenever and however he wanted to. It was unofficial, and confusing to others, but you somehow managed to find yourself in some sort of situationship with Alastor. You were his. body, mind, and soul.
You tried your best to please Alastor, constantly seeking his approval that he so generously bestowed upon others. You chased your tail around, and ran in laps, jumping through hoops just to earn a small nod in approval for him.
He wasn’t always bad. He cared for you, in his own fucked up way. He cared in way that he would never let something bad happen to you, and would protect you at all costs. You were his delicate little flower, how could he ever allow anyone who isn’t him to inflict any kind of harm onto you? He’s a bitch, but to an extent.
He loved you, yes, but only when he was in the mood to love you. When he loved you, he’d hold you close to him when you were perched on his lap in the hotel lounge. He’d whisper sweet nothings to you as he kissed along your neck, making giggles vibrate through your chest. He’d run his fingers through your hair till you fell asleep against him at night after a particularly hard day.
And on days when he knew he went to far, his classic water works he only had in store for you would come into play. He couldn’t bare his favorite toy hating him. He didn’t know how to deal with the colder shoulder and short-answer responses from you. It aggravated him that only you could get under his skin without doing much, so when you were heavily upset, only then would he drop down to his knees and kiss the inside of your thighs lovingly.
Tears would align his eyes, but his smile never once wavering, and beg for your forgiveness. He’d tell you how much he loved you as he rubbed your sensitive bud, and wash away your worries with so many orgasms, you forgot why you were mad at him in the first place.
Yes, he owned your soul and tended to be abusive, but he wasn’t heartless.
He’d tell you he’s sorry, and that he’d never hurt you again. It’s always a lie, and each time you allowed yourself to stupidly believe it.
But the truth was, you didn’t know what else to do. You hated to admit it, but you were nothing without him. You spent so long shaping yourself into the person he wanted and needed you to be, that you forgot how to be yourself. You forgot what your previous hobbies were, or what else made you happy besides him. Your world revolves around him, and without him, it felt like your world was coming to an exaggerated end.
So, you put up with it. Each and every time.
It wasn’t till today, the day of Charlie’s fathers arrival to the grand hotel Alastor managed to put together and run, that you’d ever seen him so genuinely with any sort of nerves.
The moment Lucifer walked in, in all his glory, Alastors personality took a flip. He went toe to toe with the ruler of Hell himself, all because he was afraid of someone who he knew had more power than him. But Alastor wasn’t a weak man, not at all, and that’s why he made it his mission to piss off Lucifer as much as he could.
You’d never seen him this way before. With you? Yes, but with other people? Never. He was cunning and every word he spat at Lucifer dripped with malice and confidence. Alastor knew he couldn’t beat him with power, so he hit him where he knew it would hurt. His family. Specifically, the only one he had left.
What Alastor didn’t expect, was for Lucifer to become completely and utterly smitten with you. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s been all smiles and giggles with you.
He listened when you talked, even the little small words or sentences no one cared to listen to. His lips against the top part of your hand when you first met was the only thing that circled your mind for days. His lips were plush and warm, soft and tender. It was a contrast to the kisses Alastor left you of pity and forgiveness.
He was sweet, and undeniably handsome. He made you feel ways you’d never felt before. He made you feel like you had a choice. A voice that wouldn’t be spoken over and genuinely listened to. He was charismatic, in a way like Alastor, but it was real. His smiles were real, as were the sweet nothings he said to you.
For weeks, you snuck around with Lucifer. At night, when Alastor was fast asleep, you’d sneak out from under his watchful arm and find your way to Lucifers room. His arms were more welcoming, and warm. His kisses sweeter than honey and his love as gold and bright as they come.
His voice was soft, and vibrant as he hummed against your ear. The fingers that raked through your hair were gentle and soothing, calmed you to your slumbers that comforted you through the night. His smell was intoxicating; cider and musk, like an orchid full of ripe apples. The two rosey spots on his cheek shined in hue when you’d enter the room.
I didn’t take long for Alastor to notice. He want a dumb and oblivious man. He was a ruthless overlord who couldn’t afford to look past the little things. He noticed the stares that the two of you sent when in a room full of people. The lingering touches no one else noticed when you brushed passed each other.
And most of all, they way you’d slip from his grasp in the dark of the night like he was stupid.
He knew, of course. He knew the whole time. And he let you let yourself believe that there was any other choice besides him. He allowed you, from the goodness of his heart, to feel a speck of the freedom you longed for. He let you grasp it and cradle it with all your might, just to draw you back in by the chains that shackled you to him for eternity.
He liked knowing that he controlled you. It fueled the god complex he had, knowing that no matter what you tried to do, you’d always be his. His to love, his to fuck, his to torment.
He mocked you for it, too. Rubbing it in your face that you were chained to him for as long as you’d live in hell. Suicide crossed your mind a few times, the only way you saw yourself out of it—yet, you knew that no matter what life you had next, you’d still always belong to him in some way, shape, or form.
You should’ve known better. Should’ve known that you could never be happy. Should’ve known that Alastor knew the whole time. Yet you were naive enough to think you were smart enough to go behind his back with a person he detested the most. The one person who could easily kill him with a blink of an eye.
Alastor would never say it out loud, because he knew deep down that he would never win against Lucifer. So, he did what he does best, and he took it out on you.
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Tonight wasn’t supposed to be any different from any of the other nights you left Alastors bedroom.
You lay in another man’s arms, his chest rising and falling beneath you as soft breaths slipped past his pale lips. Lucifer looked especially beautiful like this. His white skin glistening in the dull lighting of the room, and his streaky blonde hair ran through messily against the plush pillow.
You wished you could stay in this very moment forever. You’d rather spend an eternity admiring Lucifer for all his greatness, than suffering in Alastors darkness miserably.
You never told Lucifer about the way Alastor treated you behind closed doors. You knew that if you did, Alastor would be dead without a second thought. It crossed your mind a few times, obviously. How could it not? It was your only way out. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that Alastor wasn’t always like this.
He wasn’t always a bad person towards you. In the beginning, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible. He made you happy, and lively. His presence didn’t make you want to cower away in a corner, and his stare made you flush red, as bright as the color of his hair.
After all he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt shoot through you each time you looked back at Alastor asleep in your shared bed. He never cheated on you. The one of many things he’s never done, yet here you were, every so happily cheating on him. You felt like a two-timing snake, and you knew if he found out that he’d feel betrayed.
With that thought, you slipped from under Lucifer’s heavy arm, watching with soft eyes as he muttered under his breath at the loss of your warmth against him. You kissed his cheek and whispered a goodbye as you exited his room, softly shutting the door behind you. Your finger glided along the walls of the hallway, all the way till you found yourself outside of Alastors room.
You inhaled deeply, reaching for the doorknob, twisting it ever so slowly. Your entered the dark abyss of the room, shutting the door softly behind you with a wince as it creaked lightly. Damned this old ass building.
What you didn’t expect, was for Alastor to press against you from behind.
His breathing was uneven, and sharp as his chest still moved up and down slowly. You froze. You felt your dead heart stop as if you were alive. It seemed like oxygen didn’t exist anymore as you gaped, jaw slightly fallen slack as your eyes lined with tears. Your body shook as his hand traveled to the bed of your throat, craning your neck back to meet his eyes painfully.
“A-Alastor—” you gaped. He clicked his tongue. “Hm, silly girl. You really thought I was unaware of your whore-ish activities?” He chuckled out, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “Wait, please—” you began, but you didn’t get a chance to think of what to say next as he slammed your back onto the bed.
You tried desperately to crawl away from him, but within a second, chains tied you down to the bed frame. You wracked with sobs and please of despair. He stood silently for a moment, watching the way you crumbled so easily without him even having to really do anything.
“How dare you.” He hissed out after a moment. Climbing on top of your tense frame, he pinched your cheeks together and watched as tears ran down your cheeks pathetically. “I give you everything you could possibly need. I make sure you’re alive with a roof over your head and out of the clutches of hells streets, and this is how you repay me? By sleeping around with men?” He growled through his sharp teeth.
His smile was formed still, but more into a scowl of displeasure. His antlers were grown and prominent as he began to shift to his demon form that you hadn’t seen since the first time youd met him that fateful day. He was like a rabid animal, drool slipping through the cracks of his jagged teeth as his body became large and monstrous.
This was it. This how your soul would finally be put to rest. By the claws and bared teeth of a monster with the facade of a charming, hotel manager. Not the way you’d want to go out, but hey, at least your were gonna get out of it, right?
Or so you thought.
His claws, sharp as knives tore through your shirt, ripping it off of your figure and discarded onto the floor. Your white lace bra on display in front of him. Your pajama pants adorned with cheesy pandas torn to shreds alongside your favorite sleeping shirt. But all you could think about was the abnormally large bulge hard and prominent against your inner thigh.
God, you hated yourself. You danced along the line of lust, fear, and hatred. Hatred for him, mostly. You hated that you loved Lucifer—yet your body yearned to be used and played with at the hands of Alastor.
The sweet sex, praises and butterfly kisses Lucifer showered you was amazing, but this—this was different. The way Alastor fucked you was different. Yes, he was rough and fucked hard—but this was his way of showing you that he loved you. It was peculiar, to say the least. A man so easily able to use his words to fluster anyone couldn’t look you in the eye to tell you that he loved you.
So he fucked you like he hated you. But you knew what he meant.
His finger hooked under the middle of your bra, effectively slicing upwards to cut it in half. Your breasts sprang free, and your nipples hardened under the tense, cold air. You squirmed as his breath fanned against them, his long tongue shooting out to lick against them tenderly.
He played tricks on you. It was his favorite game. Giving you false hope. Dangling things he knew you longed for in front of you, only to yank it right back. Killing every last good thing you had left till you had absolutely nothing but him.
So you should’ve known better than to trust his soft tongue kitten licking your nipple. His sharp teeth bit down—hard enough to draw specks of blood around it. You yelped out in pain as your eyes lined with fresh tears waiting to be spilled over. The pain was dreadful, but god, did it feel good.
Alastors thumb trailed to lower, tracing down to your stomach till he reached your cotton panties, dampened with your arousal. “What a slut. Getting off on this. You should be ashamed of yourself, darling.” He mocked out with a cunning smile. He didn’t think twice before ripping your panties off.
He fumbled for second with his pants, unzipping them before letting them reach low enough just to pull his cock out. “Now, I’m gonna fuck this cunt till I’ve had enough, and after that, you’re going to go into the small-dicked-duck fanatics room with my cum dripping down your thighs and tell him just how good I fucked you.” He growled out, his hand finding it’s way back to your throat, squeezing tightly as he lined himself to your entrance.
“Alastor, please just listen—i” his cock bullied is way into you. Long, and thick. 9 inches of pure, heavy meat sat snugly inside of you, playing with your insides. He was perfectly trimmed, and his balls heavy balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each agonizingly perfect thrust he delivered into you.
“Oh, oh fuck!” You moaned out, head thrown back as your hand clenched onto the chains that bound you to your bed post. “Tight little pussy. Tell me, does he fuck you like this, baby?” He panted out as he watched the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
He always thought you were the prettiest like this. Underneath him, writhing in pleasure, cock drunk and hungry for him. The only time you didn’t resent him. The only time you wanted him. He cherished this, not that he would ever say it out loud.
“I asked you a fucking question.” He said, slapping the side of your face harshly, leaving a painful sting behind. You whimpered at the familiar impact. “No, Alastor!” You all but screamed out as his cock kissed your cervix.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly, and the smell of hot sex was in the air. A distinctive, vile smell. Your body was lined with sweat, as was his, and your breasts bounced each time his hips met flush against your ass. All you could think about was him.
He consumed your thoughts, plaguing your mind. You couldn’t escape him. And as of right now, you weren’t sure you even really wanted to all along.
Some sick part of you enjoyed this relationship you were in. The part that liked to be put in your place, and told what to do in return for praises of affirmations. A relationship that never got boring, and always kept you on your toes no matter what. Traumatic? Definitely. Toxic? 100%. But, this is what you had to endure. The least you could to was learn to like and deal with it.
You clenched down tightly onto him as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly, his dick hitting every right spot, including the little nerve of your g-spot inside of you. The angle he had your hips positioned in hit it better, and he could tell you were close when your cunt began to pulse around him.
“Please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You babbled on and on, drunk on the feeling of him inside of you. He chuckled as he pulled your head up by the root of your hair, just enough to have your lips crashing down onto his. “Fucked you stupid, honey, i know.” He cooed out against your lips.
He tasted bitter. Like whiskey and old cigars, mixed with a strange tea refreshment. It was an odd combination, but one that suited him indefinitely. His tongue swirled and glided against yours as they fought for dominance in a sloppy, and surprisingly passionate kiss. One that said what he didn’t have to out loud. ‘You’re mine’. He won the fight for dominance, and he sloppily suckled your tongue into his mouth.
The kiss was nasty, sloppy with saliva dripping down your chin and a few cuts on your lip from his sharp teeth clashing against them, but it was the least of your concerns as he rested his forehead against yours, nearing his end.
“I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Nice and full so everyone will know in dues time just who the fuck you belong to.” He growled out through clenched teeth. You shook your head back and forth, your eyes widening with fear. “No, don’t! Please don’t!” You begged, on and on, but to no avail.
His thrusts became harsher, and more demanding. Chasing his high aimlessly as you begged and moaned out his name underneath him. It was then that you felt it. His cock balls deep when you felt it began to swell up inside of you.
You gasped in shock as you were stretched painfully to your limit, the bulge in your lower stomach large and prominent as he pressed against it, triggering your orgasm. Your juices flushed out of you and all over his lower abdomen, and he groaned at the sight. You clenched down onto him impossibly tighter and he felt like he was gonna lose his mind.
“Pull out. Please pull out.” You desperately tried to reason with him, but he didn’t care as he sat snug inside of you, his knot finally emptying inside of you. It was warm, and you could feel it drip down your ass when his cock finally fell flaccid and limp, slowly pulling out of you.
“Maybe now, you’ll learn your lesson. You must be a fool to think that anyone could ever love you like i do.” He said, shaking his head. He bit his lip with a satisfied smile as he watched his mounds of cum pour out of you. “Milked my cock so well.” Was the only praise that slipped past his lips the rest of the night.
He didn’t allow you to clean yourself, only letting you thrown on a pair of panties from the drawer in his bedroom. Your inner thighs were slick and sticky with his warm, salty cum. “Run along now, dear. Come back when you’re finished.” He said in a singing tone, knowingly.
A flame rose in your core of embarrassment as you waddled out of the room, the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs growing by the second. It was humiliating, doing the walk of shame down the hallway, all the way to your now past lovers room.
A soft knock was laid on his door, and after a silent, dreaded minute of standing there, his door fell open. There you stood, in nothing but panties. Bite marks around your nipples and your neck prominent with a lingering bruise from the grip he held on your neck. His eyes trailed down to the cum slick between your plush thighs.
His eyes widened.
“The fuck happened to you?”
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
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sureallavnder · 5 months
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stupid parties - Theodore Nott
p : gentle!theodore nott x anxious!fem!reader
s : slytherin always throw the noisiest, stupidest parties and even though you were sorted into said house you cant normally handle them as things get intense
w : fluff, shaking, google translated italian, theo being a softie, not proofread
a/n : just a softie theo moment don’t ask me how i got this out but not my 200 follower fic
prompt : person b holding person a’s hand while shaking
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You were dreading tonight.
As per usual for the slytherin quidditch team they decided to throw a massive party to celebrate their 5th win of the season.
Something you always struggled with was crowds and noise and lucky for you, you got sorted into the house who throws the loudest, craziest, most unhelpful (in your words) parties.
Theo knew this and always made sure to keep you calm and safe even when he sometimes wished he was partying as it was one of his favourite hobbies.
You and Theo had been dating since he asked you to the Yule Ball in 4th year. But as most, you had crushes on each other since 3rd, and maybe just maybe there was some kind of connection from when you first met. Although you didn’t get close until Christmas break of your 2nd year when you both stayed behind at Hogwarts.
Your family had decided it was best for you to stay in school and focus on furthering your education a little bit, but you always wondered if it was because they liked not having you around.
As for Theo, he never really liked going home. He’d lost his mum when he was young and his dad wasn’t the best of people, a death eater. So it was typical of him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.
Theodore Nott. You’re boyfriend of 2 years. He would always spend the party cuddling you and cradling you on his bed, he had absolutely no alternate intentions. He loved looking after you. This time was no different.
It was about 10 minutes before people would normally start to pile into the slytherin common room and just on time Theo came into your dorm room, scooped you up, and carried you to his bed, setting you down. He went and picked out one of his baggiest hoodies and helped you put it on. Guiding your arms through and pulling it over your head making sure you didn’t get stuck. He swooped you into a massive cuddle singing softly into your ear. Arms wrapped tightly around you.
About 20 minutes had passed and you could tell this time felt different. The noise seemed so much more intense and it scared you. That’s when the shaking started. It wasn’t intense, but just a little. It was noticeable to you and Theo.
Theo immediately sat up and turned you so you were facing each other. He held your soft face in his hands. He spoke in italian knowing it calmed you down the quickest.
“tesoro, va bene, starai bene, sono qui” he muttered desperately trying to help
baby girl, it’s okay, you’ll be okay, i’m here
He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead knowing it’s your favourite. You smile lightly trying to appreciate the help he was giving.
Theo then held your shaking hands and traced his thumb over them to soothe you. You turn around so your back is against his chest, not letting your hands separate.
He places a kiss on the top of your head. Thankfully this calms you down enough to block out the noise of the party on the other side of the door.
Before you knew it, it was the next morning, you had drifted off to sleep in Theodore’s arms. He had layed you down in bed and wrapped himself around you. He didn’t let you go all night.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months
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Hiii! I really like your works. Can I request Husk, Lucifer and Adam teaching their daughter how to fly?
A/n: dad's teaching their little babies how to fly.
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•Husk•
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Marylin was the one that refused to fly, unlike her brothers the little kit would often bury herself into her father's back or sit under his hat but to day was going to be different, Husk was going to make sure his little girl knew how to fly.
Holding the white ball of fluff in his hands, Husk placed Marylin on the bar top watching her. "Come on sweet heart....come fly to daddy." He smiled patting his chest as you stood by his side. Coltrane and Harry sitting on each of your shoulder.
Wrinkling her nose, Marylin looked towards you then her father. Her little wings twitching as she then let out a small mewl. Her body shaking as the wings started to flap, hovering for moment her tiny body then flopped back down on the bar top. A dramatic cry escaping her as Husk quickly scooped her into his arms.
"Oh baby it's okay, daddy will be your wings."
Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes turning your back as you made your way to the bed room. "You can't coddle her forever Husk."
"Yes I can!"
•Lucifer Morningstar•
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Crying, Edna looked down at her father with tears in her eyes. Her wings twitching as she clutched the duck plush tightly in her grasp.
"I don't wanna!"
"But it's fun sweetie! And when Damien get's older you can help daddy teach him how to fly!" Lucifer did his best to cheer his little girl up. He hated seeing her cry, this was the last thing that he wanted. "See look at daddy! Daddy will fly with you."
Unfurling his wings, Lucifer hovered a few feet near his little girl as he held out his arms for her. "Just fly to daddy."
Lip's quivering, Edna sniffled as she slowly nodded her head as she struggled to fly. Her little wings flapping until she collapsed into her father's arms as she heard Charlie, Vaggie and you cheer for her.
"Did I do good daddy?"
Smiling, Lucifer placed a kiss to the side of your head. "You did wonderful Princess."
•Adam•
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"Haha look at her go!! She's a natural."
Adam watched as his little girl zoomed around the room chasing off the Cherubs.
Sighing, you rubbed your eyes pushing the sleep away. From your daughters excited squeals to the terrified screams you knew you weren't going to get some sleep any time soon. "Why is she chasing the Cherubs?"
Scoffing, Adam shrugged his shoulders. "They woke her up by bein fucking annoying."
"Can you make her stop....I need some sleep." You muttered leaning into your husband's side nearly falling asleep on his shoulder.
"Anythin for you babe." Adam gave your hips a squeeze as he let out a whistle. "Sweet pea, come to papa, your mama is tired."
Stopping in her tracks, the little girl's wings twitched as she then flew into her father's arms with an excited giggle.
"Look at my little angel...just like her old man."
Humming you nodded your head as you gave your daughter a tired smile. "Good job sweetie."
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feeder86 · 9 days
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Blame Game
Aiden raced down the stairs the moment he heard Katy’s car pulling up on the driveway. Now that she was living so far away, he hadn’t seen her since his high school graduation at the start of the summer. But as much as he loved his sister, there was one thing he hoped for more than anything else: that she had brought her sexy boyfriend Gaz with her.
Squeals of delight sounded from Aiden’s mother as she opened the door and embraced the daughter who ran into her arms. Aiden could already tell that his hopes had been realised as he spotted his father standing beside her, his hands on his hips, staring defensively over her shoulder at the boyfriend who must have been trotting along behind.
Racing towards him, Katy wrapped Aiden in a big hug, telling him how excited she was that he was off to college that weekend, and that they simply had to come down and see him before he left. Adien smiled, but watched keenly towards the threshold of the door as the shadow of an unseen man stepped ever closer towards it. Then, darkening the hallway as his giant frame filled the doorway, Gaz stepped into view. The sight of him made Liam’s breath catch in his chest. The guy was even fatter than he had been the last time he’d seen him!
“Congratulations on getting into our old college,” Gaz smiled, heading over to Aiden and shaking his hand. The heat emanating from his giant, sweaty palms was unreal. The man was an enormous furnace, fuelled by an obvious abundance of excess calories. His kind eyes smiled behind even puffier cheeks, and Aiden noted with interest just how swollen with fat the man’s neck had now become. “I know you’ll have just as much fun there as we did,” he nodded towards Katy.
“Thanks,” Aiden mumbled, trying to suppress his immediate arousal. Behind Gaz’s back, he could see his father shaking his head in disapproval, obviously noticing, just like the rest of them, how much heavier Gaz was looking after the summer.
Katy took her large boyfriend’s hand and led him down towards the kitchen, just as she had the first time she had brought him home during her first summer from college. Back then, they’d all thought how well Katy had done for herself, bagging such an athlete on a football scholarship. Gaz had been tall and broad, muscular and handsome. Their father had taken to him right away, even hosting a large barbecue for all the neighbors before he left. Finally, he had another real man around the house to discuss all the things he loved: cars, beer and football; topics that both Katy and Aiden always had very little interest in. It was only a year or so after that when his opinion started to change. Gaz’s athletic frame had bloated up by the following summer as he stacked on weight to play a different position on the field. Aiden remembered the playful jibes his father made about Gaz’s rounded stomach, assuming, just like the rest of them, that it was merely a temporary issue whilst Gaz trained himself up. However, as the holidays came around, Gaz returned only looking fatter again. By the spring, he’d been dropped from football altogether, settling into a cozy, lazy lifestyle that Aiden’s father just could not tolerate from a man who claimed to love his daughter so much. 
It had been a whole year since the pair of them graduated now. Katy had always been a high-flyer and easily strolled into a high paying position at a law firm in the city. They rented a nice place by the river and Gaz had found himself a quiet little job in a retro video game store not too far away; a job that their father described as having ‘no prospects whatsoever.’
As Aiden walked behind them on the way to the kitchen, he could see exactly why his dad was silently fuming. Gaz had never looked wider. Despite his great height, his once muscular glutes had swollen like giant balls of beautiful blubber. His hips had pushed outwards and his thick, lard-filled thighs were even starting to make him walk a little differently. Gaz’s t-shirt was loose, but clung unflatteringly to his great love handles, creasing into the delicious folds of fat on his back. His once great, muscular shoulders were now coated with blubber, swelling under his armpits and bloating the tops of his arms. Even the back of his head was compromised by a large fat roll that could be easily seen with his short, well groomed haircut. What he weighed these days, Aiden could only imagine. Judging by how fat he was looking today, how tall and built he had been in the past, he had to be heading towards 450lbs, easily.
Katy was a talker. She always had been. Over dinner, she didn’t take a breath as she explained everything that she had been up to in work and their life in the city. Aiden could tell that their father wasn’t really listening and, if he was honest, neither was he. They were both transfixed by watching Gaz loading up his plate again and again; his greedy little eyes surveying what was still on offer as he poured the gravy all over his second, third and fourth helping.
“And what about you, Gaz?” their father asked next. “Any update on getting a better job?”
Gaz nodded and swallowed everything in his mouth, keeping them all waiting. “Yes. The video game store owner lets me open up by myself in the morning now,” he smiled. “I’ve got my own set of keys and everything,” he beamed.
Their mother smiled half-heartedly back.
“But you’ve not found anything better paid?” their dad pressed on. “After all those years in college. It would be a shame to waste it working in a video game store, wouldn't it.”
Gaz shrugged. “I don’t need to worry about that. Katy earns more than enough money for the both of us,” he explained, reaching out to load more potatoes on his plate despite the fact that everyone else had long since finished eating.
Aiden braced himself for his father to bite. Gaz’s complacency and willingness to sit back and let Katy run around after him made him more angry than pretty much anything else. But, the man resisted; contenting himself with a look of frustration towards his wife instead.
“Actually…” Katy smiled next. “We’ve got some big news!” She tapped Gaz on his shoulder for him to stop eating for a second. Then she peered around at them all, enjoying the anticipation. “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”
Obligingly, their mother rose to her feet and squeaked in delight. Aiden followed and shook Gaz’s hand before reaching in for a hug with his sister. Only their father remained sitting, as if struggling to take the news in. Luckily, the engaged couple had merely assumed that he was simply overwhelmed as they joked and teased him about having to walk Katy up the aisle and make a speech when the time came. Aiden had never seen his father so completely lost for words.
“What the hell is Katy playing at?” their dad grumbled an hour later, looking across the lounge at the fat lump who was soon to become his son-in-law. As usually happened when Gaz came over, he’d insisted on putting the sports on TV and then drifted off to sleep as his body digested the incredible amount of food he had just gorged himself on. “Why is she saddling herself with a liability like this?”
“Shh!” Katy will hear you, his wife whispered.
“Well, honestly. Someone needs to tell her. Look at the belly on him! Twenty three years old and look at it! He can’t drive, has no career prospects and is just content to slob about like this. And after all the opportunities he’s had. He should be ashamed of himself!”
“Katy loves him and that’s all that matters,” their mother hissed at him. “Isn’t that right, Aiden?” she asked, knowing that she could always rely on her son to back her up when their father was in this mood.
“Come on, dad! It’s not the end of the world. You used to really like Gaz. You even preferred him to me at one point!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Tell me one man who would be happy for his daughter to marry THAT!” he pointed rudely at the bloated and squishy former athlete.
“Aw! Is he asleep again?” Katy cooed as she returned from the bathroom seconds later. “He does this at home, He eats his dinner and then… straight to sleep on the couch!” she chuckled admiring the large, lard-filled man who was filling her parents’ lounge. “He must feel very relaxed here,” she smiled at her father.
“Katy, if you’ve got a second, would you be able to help me check I’ve got everything I need for college?” Aiden asked his sister, keen to get her out of the lounge in case their father began to speak his mind. “It’s all upstairs in my room.”
Katy obliged and followed him upstairs, taking a peek in all the rooms she used to know so well and noticing the many subtle changes since she had moved out. “So, tell me…” she smirked, “...how pissed is dad about us getting engaged?”
“Pretty fucking pissed!” Aiden smirked back.
At this, Katy simply threw her head back and laughed. “If he thinks he’s annoyed about it, he should have a word with Gaz’s parents. They’re absolutely livid!” she grinned.
“Why would they not be happy?” Aiden asked in surprise. His sister was the perfect catch: smart, outgoing, attractive; highly successful.
“Oh, come on!” Katy sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’re old enough to realise that Gaz’s weight gain hasn’t exactly been by accident.” She reached out and tapped her younger brother on his head, as if listening for an echo in the void where his brain should have been. “Wake up and start paying more attention! Are you sure you’re the one who got all those amazing grades?” she joked.
“You encouraged him?” Aiden asked innocently.
“To put it mildly!” Katy nodded. “His mom hates me with a passion. She says her boy was heading for a professional football career before I came along.”
“And was he?” Aiden asked. He’d been somewhat younger back then and only mildly interested in his sister’s lovelife.
“I guess she’ll never know,” Katy chuckled wickedly, with the same ruthlessness which had seen her promoted twice since starting at her new firm last year. “Oh, don’t give me that look!” she remarked to her brother. “Gaz loves it! He’s a horny little pig. You don’t need to worry about him,” she stated dismissively. “Besides, I’ve seen the way your tongue falls out every time you see him. You love it just as much as I do.”
Aiden felt his face flushing with embarrassment.
“You’re lucky to have me. Most big sisters would be so annoyed if their little brother had a crush on their fiance,” she teased him. “I’m just proud you’ve got good taste.”
Aiden knew there was no point in trying to deny anything. His sister had always been a step ahead of him in all walks of life. “Does Gaz know too?” he asked, hoping more than anything else that his sister would spare him further embarrassment.
“Of course he does!” Katy laughed. “You weren’t exactly subtle at the pool party last summer.”
Just as any big sister would, Katy enjoyed seeing her little brother squirm for a few moments, rubbing his face into his hands and wanting the ground to swallow him up.
“It’s okay,” she finally relented. “Gaz loves the attention you give him. I know he was eating especially well at dinner for your benefit, as well as mine. He pushed so hard he’s now missing the game he’s been talking about all week, trying to sleep it off. Serves him right, really!”
Aiden couldn’t deny that he had long suspected his sister of getting some sort of kick out of watching Gaz get so fat. However, the extent to which they were both finding pleasure from it all had genuinely shocked him. “But, how did you guys find each other?” he asked, wondering just how his sister had dropped so lucky.
“I know exactly why you’re asking,” Katy laughed, nodding with pride. “Don’t worry, little bro. You’re prettier than most girls, and college is crawling with boys just waiting to pile on the pounds! Either by accident, or with a little push,” she winked, before looking around at the piles of stuff, all packed and ready for college. “You’re about to have the time of your life!”
A couple of weeks later, Aiden was getting well used to his new life in the dorms. He had a room all to himself and a good group of friends around him; new study buddies, people to go on nights out with, as well as quieter friends to go on walks with. His sister had been right, his pretty face was definitely getting him noticed. Unlike the highly competitive, defensive and hostile relationships of high school, the college campus felt like a breath of fresh air.
“Truth, or Dare?” demanded Jackson, the guy in the room opposite his, as the bottle spun and pointed directly at Aiden, requiring him to take another shot of tequila. 
The crowd of people crammed into Aiden’s room gave a low rumble of interest. “Truth,” Aiden smiled, knowing that the truths shared had been the most interesting that evening.
Jackson grinned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, having appointed himself leader of this game. “Okay then!” he smirked. “Tell us, who is your biggest crush!”
The others cheered with interest and looked over at Aiden. Absolutely everyone had been hooking up in the last week. Sex mania had taken over the campus.
Aiden looked up at Jackson, the one who had asked the question, knowing exactly why he had selected that line of enquiry. Jackson, the resident football hunk on this dorm, had practically every girl swooning after him; the guy’s head was swelling by the day with all the women who were throwing themselves at him. And, ever since he had discovered that Aiden was gay, Jackson seemed determined to add the pretty boy to his list of admirers; shamelessly flirting with him, despite having no real interest whatsoever.
“Actually,” Aiden nodded. “That’s something I’ve never told anyone before,” he teased, drawing the crowd in and entertaining them. “And if I tell you all, it could get me in A LOT of trouble!”
“Is he straight?” asked one of them excitedly. 
Aiden nodded. “I’m so bad. There’s no way I should be telling any of you this!” he continued to taunt them, enjoying the attention.
“Who is it?” a girl finally squeaked in drunken delight.
Aiden looked around one last time, then up to Jackson himself, right before he crushed the guy’s ego trip. “My sister’s finance,” he finally announced. “She’d never forgive me if she knew,” he lied, “but I am so fucking hot for that guy!”
The crowd delighted in the gossip and chuckled at the awkward situation Aiden found himself in.  Then the bottle moved on and the drinks flowed once more.
“We’ll have to come and visit you one weekend,” Katy smiled, as she relaxed with her brother that Thanksgiving. “Gaz and I would love to revisit some of the old places we used to go when we first got together,” she nodded over to her giant fiance, engrossed in the football match on the TV.
“Sure, I’d love to have you both over,” Aiden nodded, feeling excited by the idea.
“How’re things going with your love life?” Katy asked next, taking advantage of the fact that their parents were out of the room. “Are you having fun tasting the giant buffet of fatties the campus has to offer?”
Aiden looked to Gaz in a panic, until he realised that the guy wasn’t listening in on their conversation at all. He was well used to his sister asking quite personal questions, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Gaz to overhear it as well. “A couple,” he shrugged, lowering his voice just in case. “I don’t know… it’s not quite as exciting as I thought it would be. Most of the guys I show an interest in seem to hate their bodies. It’s such a turn off.”
Katy nodded in full agreement. “I’ve been there!” she laughed. “That’s why I hooked up with that kinky little bastard instead,” she nodded over to Gaz, mindlessly stuffing chips into his mouth as he watched the action.
“Grow your own?” Aiden joked.
“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Katy laughed back. “I mean, watch this,” she smirked, grabbing a small pastry from the tray in the middle of the table and throwing it towards Gaz; hitting him on his giant stomach. 
Gaz looked at her with interest, finally taking his eyes off the screen. He noticed the pastry and popped it straight into his mouth.
“Who’s a good pig?” Katy teased him.
Gaz grinned, briefly looking at Aiden and recognising him as being one of their gang: the select few who had been informed of the true nature of his and Katy’s kinky relationship. He lifted his shirt a little and grabbed a wedge of his fat, giving it a good jiggle whilst looking Katy straight in the eye. Then he raised his head and oinked quietly: once, twice; checking that the parents were not around to hear.
Katy laughed and smiled proudly, but to Aiden it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. “How do I make a guy do that for me?” he asked his sister.
Aiden was more desperate to learn than ever before.
Katy called from the car as she was parking up on the campus a couple of weeks after the holidays. Aiden went down to meet them just as Gaz was sliding his fat body out of the passenger seat. “It’s so weird to be back!” he laughed, brushing crumbs off his large t-shirt. It was so cold out, Gaz stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in his sweatshorts. Perhaps that was the point.
Aiden could tell that the place was full of memories for the pair of them as they followed him to the dorm, pointing and commenting at the quiet little meeting spots and giggling with each other. He apologised about the stairs before Gaz had to begin climbing them to get up to Aiden’s room.
Reaching the top, Aiden turned and waited for his sister and Gaz to catch him up. Suddenly, his neighbor, Jackson, strolled out into the corridor, on his way out. He nodded courteously to Aiden and then spotted his sister; his jaw immediately dropping.
“Aiden, buddy!” he smiled. “Do you have some guests?” he suddenly asked, pulling out all of his charm as he saw how attractive Katy was.
Aiden rolled his eyes. Just like every other guy who met his sister, Jackson was clearly interested, and assumed, with staggering arrogance, that her enormous, blubbery fiance was no match for him. The guy had stopped and held out his hand to introduce himself as Aiden’s friend, then accompanied them back upstairs, inviting himself along on the tour; holding doors open for Katy and moving well out of the way before Gaz had to squeeze himself through them.
“Your little brother is super popular in the dorms,” Jackon explained as they went around. “Everyone knows what a good laugh he is,” he smiled.
Again, Aiden rolled his eyes at Jackson’s charm offensive. However, he bit his tongue, knowing that it was all going to be for nothing. Katy and Gaz spoke about some of the people they used to know who lived in the building and, a few minutes later, Jackson was shocked to learn that Gaz had once been part of the same football team that he played for now. He listed off the names of the trainers, barely comprehending that Gaz knew them all as well. “Why don’t you take Gaz on a little tour of the football facilities?” Aiden suggested next, spotting a way to off-load the opportunist. He smirked as Katy agreed what a good idea it was, waving them both off a short while afterwards.
“He’s cute!” Katy whispered, turning her head to get a look at Jackson’s tight butt as he walked just behind the monstrous beast that was her fiance. “And very eager to please!” she chuckled.
“I’m guessing this is the effect you have on most men?” Aiden joked. He knew his sister was pretty, but it was hard to comprehend just how much guys were into her until he witnessed them embarrassingly falling over themselves to try and get her attention.
During their time alone. Katy had discussed the wedding plans in great detail. Everything had been organised and every second of the event accounted for. Aiden would have a list of jobs to do, acting as the usher, and he could tell that Katy was going to hold him accountable for every last one of them.
The boys returned an hour later, laughing and joking as they headed into Aiden’s room. Gaz was pleased by his tour, having bumped into a few of the people he used to know.
“Listen, are you two staying over tonight?” he asked Gaz and Katy together. “You can have my room. I’ll bunk on the floor, in here with Aiden,” he offered kindly.
Aiden was surprised when Katy accepted. They had more than enough money for a hotel, and that had been their plan before heading down here. However, perhaps the kinkiness of one last night in the dorms was getting to them both.
“So that’s the soon-to-be brother in law you have a massive crush on?” Jackson immediately teased Aiden the moment they were alone in his bedroom with his temporary bed made up on the floor.
Aiden sighed, having forgotten that he had ever said that to everyone. Trust Jackson to remember.
“He’s not the obvious choice for a gay crush!” Jackson laughed. “And I’m guessing it’s not just his personality that you’re attracted to. You could hardly keep your eyes off his big gut. And nor could your sister, to be fair” he conceded; seemingly having finally worked out that he didn’t have a hope in seducing her.
“What can I say?” Aiden smirked, deciding his best defence was to own it. “My sister and I have interesting tastes in men.”
“I know what your sister did to him,” Jackson went on. “It took me a little while to piece it together, but the football coaches talk about Gaz all the time. I thought I recognised him the moment I saw him as well, from the pictures we have up by the changing rooms.”
“What do they say?” Aiden asked, surprised. Had Gaz been the true reason why they hadn’t been able to shake Jackson off all afternoon?
“They tell us it’s important to keep focused and not get distracted by girls. They talk about Gaz as a cautionary tale: Gavin Knox, their star athlete who lost every opportunity he had by getting lazy and fat after falling for a girl who liked to overfeed him.”
“They really say that?” Aiden chuckled, feeling oddly proud.
“Oh yeah!” Jackson nodded. “The pair of them are fairly infamous amongst the trainers here. Gone, but definitely not forgotten.”
Aiden nodded. “I’m sure Katy will be delighted when I tell her.”
Jackson pulled off his shirt and lay down on the blow up mattress on the floor. “You know, if you’re still hung up on your sister’s boyfriend, I have a good way to keep you distracted,” he smiled suggestively.
Aiden looked down from his bed. “Oh, really?” he asked, surprised that the football jock was taking his flirtation this far.
“Come on,” he winked, clearly adjusting his erection underneath the bed sheets. You’re horny. I’m horny. You’re hot… I’m super hot!” he grinned. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
Aiden considered his options. He was in no way against casual sex, but being just another one of Jackson’s conquests was not something he wanted for himself. He couldn’t be yet another person who had fed into that ego by submitting himself to the football jock. He reached into his drawer and threw a pack of tissues down at him. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out!” he teased, leaning on his side, as if ready to enjoy a spectacle.
Jackson seemed surprised as he held the box of tissues in his hand and realised that was all he was getting. “Are you not joining me?” he asked.
“No. I’m not,” Jackson simply smiled back. “I’ll be watching.”
Clearly a little embarrassed, Jackson slipped his hand down into his underwear and began gently tugging himself. The guy really was horny. Within a short while he was sighing and moaning gently with his eyes closed. He looked across briefly to see if Aiden was still watching him. He was; smiling in amusement. The guy closed his eyes again, but couldn’t help looking across once more, now glancing up and holding Aiden’s stare for the last twenty seconds or so. He came, quite powerfully by the sounds of things, still having to suffer Aiden’s watchful eye as he cleaned himself up with the tissues.
The next morning, Jackson was more charming than ever with Katy and Gaz. He’d left Aiden’s room early to head to the gym but had returned just as everyone was up and chatting in the kitchen area. They thanked him for letting them use his room and Jackson even drove Gaz to a bar where they could watch the football game whilst Aiden was subjected to more of Katy’s wedding preparations; driving from store to store in his sister’s swanky new company car.
“Thanks for your help this weekend,” Aiden smiled sincerely at Jackson, as Katy and Gaz drove off at last that evening. “I’m sorry if we took up so much of your time.”
“I enjoyed myself,” Jackson shrugged. “They’re a fun couple and Gaz really knows his stuff when it comes to playing football.”
“Did he give you some good tips?” Aiden laughed, finding it difficult to imagine Gaz in any sort of sporting context these days.
“He gave me some good advice, yeah,” Jackson nodded. “But the weekend isn’t over quite yet. So… maybe I don’t have to go back to my own room…” he teased.
Aiden enjoyed the power he seemed to have inherited. In not giving into the handsome boy, he’d somehow ensured that the guy had never wanted him more. “Goodnight, Jackson,” he laughed, striding back up to his dorm room, alone.
As the day finally came, Gaz and Katy’s wedding had been one that none of them would ever forget. Katy had been the ultimate bridezilla from the moment she woke up that morning. But as the ceremony ended and everyone settled into the meal and speeches, the tone had at last started to relax.
Gaz had clearly been on some super fattening diet for the last couple of weeks, given how enormous his face had become. It was more than obvious that Katy had been the one to choose the fit of his suit. Gaz had never looked so irresistibly spherical in his entire life. Their father had done a passable job at a congratulations speech, officially welcoming Gaz into their family, whether he really wanted him or not. Likewise, Gaz;s best man had done an amazing speech that made everyone laugh. Katy had been delighted with the choice; toned, trim and muscular, the guy was doing an incredible job of making Gaz look even fatter as he stood next to him in so many of the pictures.
“Jeez! Your sister’s new in-laws absolutely hate her!” whispered a deep, quiet voice behind Aiden as he took a brief moment on the balcony of the hotel bar for a quick breather from the wedding party.
“Jackson?” Aiden blasted in disbelief before he even turned around. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Gaz invited me when they were over a few weekends ago,” he smiled, holding up the invitation for the evening party. “I would have told you, but you’ve been avoiding me…” he teased. “However, may I just say… you look so fucking hot in that suit tonight,” he growled, moving in closer so that his hands were resting on Aiden’s hips.  
“Still trying to collect me, huh?” Aiden smirked sceptically, looking down at the liberty Jackson was taking in touching him like this. 
“You have to know how into you I am,” Jackson whispered, sliding his hands back onto Aiden’s butt and leaning in until their hot breath met. It was clear from the scent of beer on Jackson’s breath that he had been drinking a little to give him the courage to be so forward. 
“I know,” Aiden whispered back, starting to enjoy this fumbling attempt at a seduction. But the temptation to torture him by refusing once more was still so tempting. 
“I’ve been mad about you for months,” Jackson went on. “Then, when you made me climax, just by looking at me like that…”
Aiden chuckled at the memory of that evening and then a very gentle kiss ensued between the two of them.
“I’d do anything for you…” Jackson whispered afterwards, before heading in for a second round.
“Erm, Aiden?” interrupted his father, awkwardly stepping out onto the balcony. “Is there someone you want to introduce me to?” he asked in his typically intrusive manner.
Instinctively, Jackson pulled back and stood to attention, as if he was a new army recruit. “You’re Aiden and Katy’s father,” he stated clearly, holding out his large hand to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you, Sir.”
Aiden’s father took the hand and shook it firmly. “You’re a strong lad,” he declared after a second. “Football, I’m guessing?”
“Yes, Sir,” Aiden nodded, eager to please.
“So, are you two… dating?” he asked next, looking curiously between the pair of them.
“No,” Aiden answered calmly, finding Jackson’s newfound respectful manner with his father to be one of the most hilarious spectacles he had seen all year.
“Not yet!” Jackson added optimistically. “But I’m pretty crazy about your son, Sir.”
“Enough!” sighed Aiden, taking Jackson’s hand and laughing as he led him away from his intrusive father and onto the dancefloor. Jackson wasn’t a natural dancer but he tried his best for Aiden, who made it seem so effortless. A little while afterwards, a sweaty, overfed Gaz headed over to greet the new arrival, hugging him like the pair of them had bonded more than Aiden realised during that weekend.
“I’m pleased you could make it,” Gaz smiled. His large, but very fitted shirt had come untucked, the buttons obviously straining now his tie had been taken off; his stomach bloated on too much food and beer. “I see you took my advice,” he chuckled, glancing back at Aiden like he had noticed how closely they had been dancing. “Listen, there’s a load of freshly cut wedding cake over there,” he continued explaining to the football jock, shouting loudly above the noise of the music. Then he tapped him on his tight, muscular glutes in the way that sports players always seemed so surprisingly comfortable doing.”Go pig-out.”
Gaz’s parents interrupted them, explaining that they were leaving already, despite the fact that it had only just turned eight. Then the drunk Gaz went in for a hug with both of them; with large pools of sweat on show under his armpits. The older couple merely waved at Aiden, having decided some time ago that he was cut from the same cloth as their loathsome new daughter-in-law.
Jackson took Aiden’s hand and led him over to where the cake had been cut and laid out. “Why’d they cut the slices so small?” he chuckled, picking up five of them and stacking them onto his plate to make a very decent wedge, which the jock soon began devouring.
“What was that about, with Gaz?” Aiden asked, having been surprised by the unlikely friendship between them both.
“We’ve just been messaging each other these last few weeks,” Jackson explained. “He’s very good at giving advice.”
“About what?” Aiden shot back.
But Jackson’s attention was elsewhere. “Jeez, they’re all off!” he commented, too busy noticing the queue of Gaz’s family lining up to say goodbye to him as they left early. “Not one of them has even acknowledged your sister yet,” he pointed, as they all slipped away; ignoring Katy as she was distracted, talking to her friends on another table.
Aiden chuckled. “Katy’s a big girl. She can take it!” he smirked.
“I must say,” Jackson smiled, picking up one of the many pictures of the couple dotted around the room. “These are a nice, antagonistic touch,” he joked, clearly referring to the fact that the photos of the newlyweds were all from at least four and a half years ago, when Gaz was still fit and athletic.
Aiden nodded and grinned. “My sister certainly has a very warped sense of humor!” he laughed. “You should have seen how blatantly she was feeding Gaz his dessert earlier.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I heard all about that when I got here,” Jackson nodded. “Your sister certainly knows how to make an impression.” He put down his plate of cake crumbs and reached in to squeeze Aiden affectionately around his waist. “Gaz is a lucky man,” he whispered.
With a beer in his hand later that evening, Jackson sat back in a chair and pulled Aiden in so that the pretty boy could perch himself on his knee. He rested his large hand delicately on Aiden’s hip; his touch being the greatest of all his love languages. 
Several family members came over to meet the strapping new man who was obviously so smitten with Aiden. Rather than trying to tear Aiden away to his hotel room for sex, Jackson appeared to just enjoy being there, lavishing gentle affection on the boy he had been quietly in love with for some time, and meeting everyone who was important in his life. It was all so intimate and sexy; a new experience for them both. When they did finally make it back to Aiden’s room, the gentle sex that followed was the most connected that either of them had ever felt to another person.
The next morning, Aiden awoke with the strapping young man gently spooning him from behind. Aiden wanted nothing more than to stay there in bed with him all day, but check-out was at eleven and Katy had already messaged him with a stack of chores, gathering up the bits and pieces from the wedding the night before and distributing them amongst the family to take with them in their cars.
“Katy, there’s no sign of the guest book,” Aiden explained, entering the honeymoon suite with his newfound personal assistant, Jackson. The muscular guy spotted a grotesquely obese Gaz sat up on the bed in only his underwear; fat bulging and spilling in every direction. He headed straight over to greet him, then sat in the chair, catching up on all of the football highlights on TV from the games they had both missed the night before.
“Don’t worry. Mom’s got that,” Katy stated.
Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. His final task had been taken care of. He looked around the room, seeing copious amounts of dirty plates and bowls from room service. “I can see you’ve been having some fun this morning,” he chuckled.
“I could say the same about you last night,” Katy smiled, nodding towards Jackson, still dressed in his suit from the night before.
Aiden smiled back. He didn’t really understand any of this himself and so he quickly changed the subject. “Where has this friendship suddenly come from?” he asked, pointing towards the two vastly contrasting boys, laughing and joking at what they were watching on TV.
Katy sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know!” she chuckled. “They’ve been messaging like crazy. Boring boy stuff mostly. Lots about you, of course. And about Jackson wanting to quit football.”
“He wants to quit football?” Aiden asked. “Since when?”
Katy shrugged with mild disinterest. “I guess you need to talk to Jackson.” She sighed, quickly losing interest in him, like only a sister could. “Anyway,” she declared, throwing her hands out like it was time to disperse. “Off you go! We need our alone time.”
Aiden bit his tongue; resisting the urge to explain just how much he had been running after her all morning. “Come on, Jackson,” he called. “We’d better go check out anyway.” He could see that the pair of them were quite engrossed in their conversation. However, their discussion paused the moment that Aiden stood, waiting for him.
“Give me a call if you manage to get tickets,” Jackson nodded to his friend, fist pumping as they parted.
“Just send me a message anytime you need to chat,” Gaz offered kindly as Katy ushered them both out.
“So, you guys are like, best friends now?” Aiden asked suspiciously as he and Jackson headed down in the elevator after grabbing Aiden’s bags from his room. He couldn’t quite understand the quiet little jealousy that he felt. Despite crushing on Gaz for years, he’d never managed to connect with him in the way that Jackson seemed to be able to do so effortlessly. Gaz was a typical man’s man, preferring the company of other sports and beer loving guys whenever he wasn’t being fattened by his wife.
“He’s a great guy,” Jackson shrugged, turning into Aiden to kiss him; not wanting to waste a single private moment together. “Gaz and I have got a lot in common,” he smiled as the elevator doors opened once more and they were both thrown into the busy lobby area. “I’ll catch you back on the campus later,” he smiled, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and leaning in for a final kiss; leaving Aiden with more questions than answers.
After being dragged out to lunch with his aunts before they headed off to the airport and home, Aiden arrived back on the campus late and went straight to bed. He woke up the next morning with his alarm screaming at him, then raced down the campus to his first class of the day. But, by the time he made it back to the dorm, he was greeted by several people all standing around, gossiping.
“Did you hear? The whole campus is up in arms about it. Jackson quit the football team!”
Aiden’s jaw dropped, kicking himself that he hadn’t asked Jackson about this the moment he heard that the athlete was considering quitting. “But, why? He’s the star player!” he shot back.
Jackson strolled into the kitchen looking very pleased with himself a little later on. He’d clearly had people asking him all day about why he had made such a drastic decision.
“What about your scholarship?” blasted one person, after Jackson had stated assertively to them all that his mind was made up.
“Already taken care of,” Jackson replied calmly. He spotted Aiden in the corner and smiled. “Hello,” he mouthed; his eyes dancing with delight. “Want to go for a walk?”
Aiden looked around at the confused faces, then stepped forwards and took Jackson’s hand, registering the gasps of surprise as the pair of them walked away. He’d never felt butterflies in his stomach like this before and hadn’t ever imagined that he would feel so overwhelmed by the idea of dating someone like Jackson. 
“So, I’m guessing there is more to this than meets the eye?” Aiden finally asked, as the pair of them side-stepped another bunch of people further down the corridor and sought refuge in Aiden’s room.
“Not really,” Jackson smiled, kissing his boy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I’ve just never been able to express it until I met you. And I don’t want to go through what Gaz went through, getting fat and still keeping up the pretence of being an athlete; training and playing games.”
“Hold up!” Aiden shrieked. “Getting fat?”
“Of course,” Jackson nodded. “I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. I just thought I was some sort of freak, until I talked it over with Gaz that weekend.” He removed his shirt and threw it on the floor. “This isn’t who I am,” he pointed at his chiselled stomach, grabbing at the skin where no fat hit underneath it. “I’m not supposed to be this way. I’ve just been pushed along by other people, simply because I had a little bit of talent growing up.”
Jackson turned and walked to gaze at his reflection in Aiden’s mirror. He flexed his stomach muscles and tensed his bicep. Aiden watched him from behind, already permitting himself to imagine those perky glutes starting to swell with fat.
“Gaz described it best to me,” Jackson continued, turning around to face Aiden. “It’s just this longing inside you… this desire to be a great big fat pig!”
Aiden could see the arousal in Jackson’s gym shorts as he was saying these things, and he felt utterly speechless at the revelations about the boy he had spent months being so apathetic about. “You know who’s going to get all the blame for you quitting football,” he sighed, realising that he was about to become a lot less popular around campus.
“It had to be done. I need to commit,” Jackson smiled. “I talked it through for ages with Gaz. Not quitting football right away was the only thing he regretted.”
“Then, when you start getting chubby… when the love handles start to form and your tight little butt swells out… who do you think they will all be pointing the finger at?” he asked, trying to hold back a smile.
Jackson moaned and reached in to pull Aiden closer to him. “Oh, fuck! That’s so hot!” he whispered. “They’ll say you turned me into a pig!”
“And they’d be right,” Aiden nodded in complete agreement, allowing himself to get swept up in the horny jock’s kisses. Was this it? Was he really about to embark upon his ultimate fantasy? “I’ll have you oinking in no time!”
With that, Jackson slipped off his shorts and pants in one fast movement, pulling Aiden down onto the bed, making love even more passionately than last time.
“Come on, get it all down!” Aiden insisted a few days later as Jackson tried to complete the enormous, thick shake that his boyfriend had made for him. It wasn’t the best recipe and was far too sweet, but they were still both learning.
Jackson swallowed some more and then stopped, wincing at the taste. There was still at least one third to go and the immense amount of effort it was going to take was etched all over his handsome face. He burped up some gas and groaned a little, rubbing his tight middle even though his stomach muscles still pushed through under the skin. “It’s just so… thick,” the naked boy mumbled. Despite the effort, his hardness was still pushing up to the ceiling of Aiden’s bedroom. Ever since Jackson had committed to this, his erection had hardly left him.
“You want to be a big fat pig though, don’t you?” Aiden teased, grabbing onto Jackson’s boner and massaging it up and down so that the horny boy’s eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned, then threw his head back and continued to swallow until the thick, gloopy shake was all gone.
Jackson rubbed his painfully stretched stomach, now completely packed with absolutely everything they had bought that evening. Even his breathing sounded laboured. “Fuck!” he grumbled. “I really hope that stuff gets rid of my six pack soon.”
Aiden laughed, knowing exactly what he’d blended together to make the fattening shake. “Trust me, if that can’t manage it, nothing will!”
Unlike Gaz, Jackson didn’t fall asleep after a stuffing. He found it difficult to ignore the stretch of the bloat and sat up in Aiden’s bed watching comedies, trying to distract himself as the abundance of calories set to work on transforming his body. Now that Jackson had been stripped of all the things Aiden had disliked about the boy: his ego, idiot jock buddies and womanising nature, Aiden could at last see the reasons why the football hunk had been so certain that they were perfect for each other. They shared the same sense of humor, had the same interests in music and movies; not forgetting that, sexually, they were more compatible than two people ever could be.
Jackson’s weight gain wasn’t especially noticeable at first. It began with a gentle softening of his immaculately toned body and grew from there. Within a few weeks, the boy’s stomach was decidedly bloated and thicker looking, whilst his face appeared ever so slightly fuller. Their friends had disapproved of how insular and boring they had both become, always electing to spend time alone together, rather than going out to the bars with them like they used to. Despite the several different calorie shakes Aiden whipped up quietly in the kitchen, they couldn’t see yet what was being done to Jackson; even into the small hours of the night.
Jackson was obsessed with his own body. He admired it constantly in the mirror as he started to carry a little extra weight on his sides. Aiden had never seen the guy’s dick get so hard than when he pinched and gently jiggled those first little, hard-earned pouches of fat. 
“I think it’s time we showed this off, don’t you?” Aiden asked one morning as the late Spring sun poured in through his window. “The six pack has gone, the love handles are blossoming and your glutes are finally swelling up.”
Jackson looked across at him with a little shock. “You mean, go outside sunbathing? Without a shirt on?”
“I was thinking more of a picnic,” Aiden chuckled, ever the opportunist. “You could wear those old gym shorts that pinch your hips now.”
Despite having climaxed only a couple of minutes before, Jackson immediately became aroused again. Finally, after weeks and weeks of gorging, he was at last ready to be shown off.
A thin tire of fat slid around Jackson’s waist as he sat on the grass outside, eating the piles of sandwiches and pastries Aiden provided. He sipped on sodas and beers as people came up to them to chat; each one dutifully trying not to stare at the remarkable softening that had taken place upon Jackson’s physique. At one point, some of the boys came out and asked him to throw a ball around with them, which Jackson immediately refused, feeling too bloated and aroused to move and often having to reposition the picnic bag in front of his crotch. 
“How long do you think it will be until I start getting my first comments about this weight gain?” Jackson asked his handsome lover, hidden behind his large sunglasses.
“A few more weeks,” Aiden stated after a short consideration. “Eat hard this summer and we can have a decent gut on you by the time we’re back on campus in the Fall. You can start the second year as a proper fatty.”
Aiden knew that Jackson appreciated straight talk. If he wasn’t eating enough, or if he was complaining too much about being full, he wanted to be told. But, likewise, he got off on the blunt way that Aiden would describe the future. What Jackson had embarked upon would alter everything in his life: his body, his appetite, his energy levels; not forgetting the ways in which people would perceive and approach him in future. A fat man’s experience was very different to the reverence that Jackson had received so far. He needed to be ready for it.
That summer, Jackson spent the entire time at Aiden’s parents’ place, seeing as it was so much quieter than his own family home. Aiden had a lot more privacy, utilising the compact apartment above the garage, practically moving in for the whole of the break from college.
“Here it comes,” Aiden’s dad grumbled as he looked out of the window and saw his daughter’s enormous new car pulling up on the drive. “Jeez! What the hell does he look like?” he continued, peering at the giant Gaz rocking his fat body to get out from the passenger seat. “Doesn’t he realise we can all see his belly falling out of that t-shirt?”
Jackson and Aiden gave each other a mischievous look. Despite the thicker appearance of Aiden’s new boyfriend, his father had yet to work out that he would soon be acquiring another very obese son-in-law in the future. 
Gaz strolled through the front yard, casting a giant shadow through the window as he moved towards the front door. Many months had gone by since the wedding and extended honeymoon, with Katy’s new husband now looking significantly flabbier and softer as he trotted about with a slight waddle. Meanwhile, Katy looked, if anything, even younger and more attractive in her flashy designer clothes, funded by the remarkable pay she earned in her latest position at her company.
After dinner, all four of them retreated to the garage apartment where they could speak more freely and joke about how Aiden and Katy’s father had been eyeing his fat, greedy son-in-law the entire time during dinner; begrudging him every enormous mouthful he took. “He didn’t even notice that Jackson was eating just as much!” Katy laughed. “How much have you packed on so far?” she asked her brother’s boyfriend with interest.
“Forty pounds,” Jackson replied dutifully.
Katy looked at her husband and squinted her eyes, trying to recall when Gaz was first fattening up. “That sounds about right for this stage,” she nodded. “There’s a fair amount of muscle loss in those first few months, I remember.”
Aiden, who had spent much of his time bouncing and jiggling Jackson’s swollen glutes, nodded and laughed in full agreement.
“I’ve managed to find a place for you both to live next year. I have a few contacts in the city,” Katy went on. “I’ll cover the rent. It’s a complete steal anyway. Plus, it will give you guys more money to fund the gains.”
Aiden and Jackson gasped with surprise at her generosity: their own private apartment!
“It’s fine,” Katy smiled back. “It’s just the sort of thing I would have found most useful when I was in college, trying to fatten this piggy on a budget,” she laughed, caressing the rather extreme fat at the back of her husband’s neck. “And if you can keep those grades up from this first year,” she added sternly to Aiden, “I’ll have a position ready and waiting for you at my company. It’s all worked into my five-year plan,” she nodded in her typically efficient and organised manner.
Suddenly, with Katy’s help, the path towards the future looked so effortless and simple. Once the lights inside the main house went off, they ordered in pizza and Chinese, letting Gaz and Jackson playfully compete with each other and gorge themselves until the early hours. There was much to be celebrated.
As the summer began to roll away, Aiden knew that he would have to accompany Jackson back to his own family at some point, before college started back up. 
“They’re going to be so pissed about what I’ve done,” Jackson grumbled, patting the thickness that had amassed on his stomach. “They pushed me so much to follow football. They were so happy when I got the sports scholarship, and now look at me!”
Aiden sighed, realising why Jackson’s appetite hadn’t been quite as ravenous in the last few days. The boy could give up sports, indulge and appreciate his swelling body without a care about what anyone else thought. But family, that was always different. 
“Who said that you’re responsible for any of this?” Aiden asked, playfully grabbing a wedge of Jackson’s new belly fat. “As far I can tell, you’re just a nice boy who got ensnared by one of those awful feeder-types,” he joked.
Jackson smiled sweetly, but his nerves were still evident.
“I’m serious!” Aiden laughed. “You’ve got to stop thinking of yourself as being the master of your own destiny here. You’re the poor little victim!” he joked. “You fell for some pretty boy with a wicked, coercive personality; making you get fatter and fatter so that no one else will take you away from him.”
“Is that what you think my parents will assume?” Jackson chuckled. “That this is all your fault?”
“Of course they will,” Aiden laughed. “ It’s exactly what happened to Katy as well. A golden child like you, or Gaz, would never do something like this on purpose!” he smirked, squeezing Jackson’s cute chubbier cheek.
“That’s not really fair on you though, is it?”
Aiden shrugged playfully. “Are you sure about that? Without me, this little fat belly wouldn’t be here at all, would it?”
“I suppose not,” Jackson smiled, looking up gratefully at his lover. “But I’m glad that it is.”
“Well then, stop worrying. Every story needs a villain. I’ve got this one covered.”
The week-long visit to see Aiden’s family was predictably awful. As soon as Jackson’s parents saw their boy, Aiden felt an immediate wave of hostility heading his way. In contrast to the privacy they had enjoyed all summer, here Jackson’s family regularly went into the small bedroom they shared, organising a family intervention meeting as soon as they discovered the many empty snack wrappers and empty bottles of soda. Aiden had not been invited.
“What did they say?” Aiden asked as soon as Jackson made it back to the bedroom that evening.
“They’re pissed,” Jackson sighed. “Super pissed. I tried to defend you, but they’re adamant that you’re a bad influence on me. They don’t want us moving in together next semester.”
Aiden chuckled. “Well, that’s just too bad for them,” he smiled, tapping the bed for his overfed lover to sit down next to him.
“They made it clear that they’re going to be keeping a careful eye on what I eat whilst I’m here, and they want me to sign up for something sporting when I go back to college.”
“That’s fine,” Aiden nodded. “I’ve been looking into some eating contests I want to enter you into anyway.”
At this, Jackson couldn’t help but laugh. “How come you’re so laid back about all this?” he asked; visibly relaxing more as he settled into Aiden’s company.
“Because, if they think you’re fat now… they’re in for a real surprise in a few more months.”
Jackson turned into him and kissed him, growling with horny excitement. “Mmm, yeah!” he whispered. “It’s hard to imagine getting fatter; being here; getting told off for everything I put into my mouth.”
“I feel very sorry for them, I do,” Aiden agreed. “It’s so obvious that they don’t want a fat piggy for a son. But that’s not going to stop me.”
“I can’t see me gaining any weight this week,” Jackson replied apologetically.
Aiden laughed and shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he grinned. “No one backs a guy like me into a corner. In fact, I think this will be your highest calorie week to date.”
Jackson laughed. “What did you have in mind?” he asked; his new hardness starting to push into Aiden’s thigh.
Aiden smirked, starting to formulate a plan in his head. “If your family think I’m a monster… I’ll give them a monster. I’ll be their worst nightmare.”
The key to Aiden’s success over the next few days was in making sure the pair of them had a good reason to leave the house each day. Given that they were under such scrutiny, he had to use that time wisely to ensure that it was used effectively. Drinking a gallon of full fat milk was an old-fashioned technique to weight gain, but also very effective. Not only would it give Jackson a huge, fattening daily boost, but it would also train his capacity for the months to come. Time was so limited, the pressure on Jackson to get the milk down was intense as they sat together in a supermarket parking lot. 
“Come on, we’ve got ten minutes until we need to start heading back,” Aiden reminded his lover as he got back in the car and saw that Jackson was still only half way through his gallon. There was always some excuse for why they needed to be back home at a certain time; never more than an hour until Jackson’s suffocating family needed them back under their supervision. Even when Aiden lied and told them they were going for a hike, the time limits never eased up.
Jackson burped and rubbed his bloated stomach. “It seriously hurts,” he grumbled, despite the serious hardness that was laying against his thigh.
“No pain, no gain,” Aiden replied mercilessly. He allowed Jackson a little more time to push himself as hard as he could, then poured out the water from the bottles they had taken with them for their supposed hike, then decanted the remaining milk into them; perfectly disguised. 
It worked surprisingly well. Despite his large bloat, Jackson would always return looking sluggish and sweaty; genuinely needing to sit down, like he had really just been on a big hike. However, the suspicion on Aiden was always there. Not that Jackson’s family would ever dare to call him out on it to his face. Instead, they whispered behind his back and pulled Jackson aside to express their concerns. Aiden smirked and decided to enjoy the experience as their house guest nonetheless: the generous hospitality, eating their food, monopolising their large TV in the lounge; all the while secretly fattening up their pride and joy.
“Piggy, wake up!” Aiden whispered as quietly as he could into Jackson’s ear at night. “Piggy, come on now!”
Groggily, Jackson would stir in the darkness; his nose detecting the scent of something that needed eating. “Is that peanut butter?” he asked, just about making out a spoon close to his face.
“Shh, Piggy!” Aiden whispered, almost inaudibly, delivering the first piled spoonful once Jackson sat up slightly. This was one of the only things he had managed to sneak back into the house during their supermarket trip. He felt a little guilty, knowing that this wasn’t the nicest peanut butter available. But it was packed full of calories and was the only one he could find in a plastic jar so that he could scrape around inside it in the dead of night without making any noise.
After a minute or so, Aiden passed Jackson the jar and threw off the bed sheets, slipping a hand into the guy’s underwear, massaging the throbbing hardness that always came during these feeding sessions in the middle of the night. It wasn’t just the food or the inevitable weight gain it would cause that was arousing Jackson tonight; it was the knowledge that he was being fattened by someone as ruthless and scheming as Aiden. Someone who could smile politely to his parents’ face, then do this to him behind their backs. He’d moan softly, knowing that he would soon be allowed to climax as the end of the jar approached, then be shushed and reminded about just how naughty they were being.
After the horny boy came at last, Aiden smiled with satisfaction, using a cleaning wipe to mop up around the guy’s handsome face and ensuring he lay back down. He stroked his sweaty head until sleep came to find him once more, allowing the calories inside his little pig’s body to set to work.
Aiden was sure to hide all the evidence of their feeds, working with incredible stealth the entire week to ensure that he was never caught. Whenever Jackson’s family turned their backs, something was being done to their boy: pushing treats high in calories into his mouth, grabbing or jiggling the light fat on his body and whispering into his ear to get him hard and horny to eat later. 
Despite this, Jackson was made to feel utterly miserable by his family the rest of the time. The parents really had no idea that they were playing into Aiden’s hands so well, setting the boy’s mind with a defiance and determination that he was going to eat and gorge himself into obesity as soon as he made it back to college. They had given Aiden and Jackson a common enemy that they could bond together against. So, when the end of the week finally arrived, Aiden knew that it had been one of the most productive periods of his and Jackson’s entire relationship. He said his goodbye to Jackson’s parents and older siblings, knowing that he hadn’t made any real connections with any of them. Then he climbed into Jackson’s car, waving them all off, both of them breathing a sigh of relief as they made it to the freeway. Freedom at last. 
Later the next day, the two boys were very happy to be moving into their new apartment close to the campus. Everything was finally settling into place and a week of pure gluttony followed. As their student loans came through, the cupboards were packed full of everything needed to grow. The time coincided with the revelation that Jackson’s large pecs were at last starting to succumb to the weight gain; growing noticeably softer and more sensitive. Just as they had both hoped, the reactions of their friends were every bit as arousing as they had imagined. Jackson’s ex teammates seemed to feel no shame in grabbing and poking the guy’s new blubber as if it was all some big joke, caused simply by the lack of exercise now that he no longer trained. Their assumptions were all so beautifully sweet and innocent; before the blubber would become more extreme and concerning to them all; before they really realised what was really being done to the ex football player.
Once that initial coat of fat had been developed over Jackson’s toned body, the softening began to increase with remarkable speed. Fat built upon fat, rounding Jackson out to give him a genuine belly; the prize that they had long been working towards.
“Are you ever going to wear a shirt again?” Aiden joked; getting home and seeing Jackson playing with his jiggly tummy as he sat eating potato chips by the TV.
Jackson smirked, getting up and walking over to check out the things Aiden had picked up from the supermarket after his class; the fat in his middle bouncing gently as he sluggishly stomped across the room. He’d wanted the ice cream right away, but Aiden had insisted on letting it melt so that it would be easier and faster for Jackson to take down later. The chubby boy nuzzled into him, always so ridiculously horny after he’d been playing with his own belly. In the end, he was only pacified by a large box of cookies being handed to him.
“You’ve got that assignment to finish tonight, haven’t you?” Aiden asked, setting to making his lover a rather large dinner, before he too would have to pull out his laptop to continue working. Unlike last year when he had merely excelled at all his assignments, this year, Aiden was making as much of a name for himself as his sister had before him. He’d been offered a fast-track degree, completing his course in three years, instead of the full four; an offer that he could not turn down. However, the added pressure and workload had meant he’d dropped the ball on ensuring Jackson was keeping up with his own course in the same way as he had last year.
“I’ll do it later,” Jackson sighed dismissively, more interested in running his fingers along the soft roll of fat that overhung his waistband as he sat in front of the TV.
Aiden rolled his eyes. As much as he loved having such a fat and lazy boyfriend, it was stressful trying to get him organised. Someone on Jackson’s course had referred to him as ‘chubby’ last week, sending the ex-jock into a horny, fever-driven eating binge that lasted for days and left him very far behind on everything else. But it wasn’t Aiden’s job to organise every part of Jackson’s life, he reasoned, melting down an entire stick of butter for Jackson’s macaroni and cheese dinner. This was one problem the fat boy would have to sort out himself.
It was another week later, as Aiden got home, carrying another full bag of groceries, that he noticed something was wrong with Jackson. Even as he began unpacking his bags filled with fattening treats, his greedy lover hadn’t come over to check out what had been bought for him. Even more surprising, he was wearing his t-shirt and even his dirty sneakers hadn’t been kicked off his large feet yet.
“I got kicked off my course,” Jackson finally admitted. “They found out I’ve been using some software to write my last few assignments,” he mumbled. “Zero tolerance.”
Aiden gritted his teeth and sat down next to him, unsure how to take the news. In one way, life would be easier for him now that he didn’t have to stress about Jackson’s college work. The worst had now happened. But, on the other hand, Jackson’s student loan payments would soon stop and Aiden knew that the chub’s parents would be straight down to see him the moment they found out he’d messed up so badly. “Come on then,” he sighed, getting up from his seat and heading over to the kitchen. “We’ll have to get all this food eaten,” he declared, opening the over-packed cupboards and starting to pull things out. “If your mom is here this weekend, she can’t see any of this.”
“All of it?” Jackson asked, looking a little daunted.
“It’s not my fault!” Aiden grumbled back. “You’re the one who got us into this mess, remember.” He started organising it all into what could be eaten up by Jackson across the week: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Perhaps, if they arrived later, there might be some room to get a little more of it eaten on Saturday morning too. “Well, don’t just sit there!” Aiden sighed, throwing a huge bag of toffee popcorn over to his boyfriend. “Make yourself useful and get started!”
Aiden ensured that he was very busy that weekend, heading to the library to give Jackson some time with his parents whilst they outlined, in very specific detail, exactly how he had disappointed them. This visit had worried him all week. Despite Jackson’s love and lust for their life together, the boy’s parents held a very powerful spell over him. He wouldn’t put it past them to insist their boy came straight home with them. That’s why getting Jackson a job had been Aiden’s priority before they arrived, with the lazy boy begrudgingly accepting a role within the campus on-site security team. Having an income, Aiden had reasoned, would go some way to ensuring his parents that Jackson had some sort of plan for life after college. Aiden dressed his boyfriend in his loosest fitting clothes and got the hell out of the way; happy to avoid most of the inevitable shit show.
It was nearly six by the time Aiden headed back to the apartment. He’d made his usual trip to the supermarket; this time picking up fruit and vegetables, alongside low fat yoghurts and milk; all part of the weekend’s charade. He slipped into the lounge area to quietly greet them both and offer a cup of coffee, making sure the stick of celery was highly visible in the shopping bag he was still holding. Unsurprisingly, they were both short with him and made it clear that they wanted to speak to Jackson on his own. Aiden looked up at his lover, seeing how utterly miserable he looked.
Aiden ground his teeth in annoyance as he headed back to the kitchen. The sooner they left, the better! Nobody wanted them here anyway.
Just then, the buzzer sounded, with someone waiting downstairs. Jackson hadn’t dared to order take-out whilst his parents were there, had he?
“Hello! It’s us!” sang Katy’s voice. “We’ve come to surprise you!”
Aiden’s eyes popped wide open. He’d been bugging his sister for weeks to come over and see the new apartment. But why now? “Jackson’s parents are here!” he mumbled nervously, not particularly wanting to buzz them in. 
“Oh, lovely!” Katy shot back, oblivious. “Ah! Someone is just coming out. We’ll see you in a second!”
“No, wait!” Aiden tried to shout back, but it was already too late. 
A brief knock came at the door seconds later and in strolled Katy with the enormous Gaz behind her; both of them carrying giant bags of food.
“I’m so sorry!” Aiden exclaimed, ignoring his sister and racing into the living room as fast as he could. “My sister and her husband have arrived.” He looked across at Jackson, expecting him to be annoyed by the intrusion during this sensitive time, but instead, his face lit up in delight. He jumped off his seat and headed out of sight to greet them both.
“Mom, Dad, this is Katy, Aiden’s sister,” Jackson explained as Katy suddenly appeared from around the corner, waving politely. “And this is her husband, my best buddy, Gaz.”
It never got dull, watching people’s jaws drop whenever they saw the size of Aiden’s brother-in-law. Gaz trotted in, making for the couch. “Budge up!” the gruff boy ordered, already knowing that it was going to be a squeeze to fit him on there alongside Jackson’s slender mom and dad. He hovered his wide, hippo-like backside for a moment, just giving the pair enough time to frantically slide to the side, then he dropped his enormous body down and sighed in relief that the couch hadn’t buckled underneath him. “That’s better!” he smiled, grunting as he reached for the TV remote and put the football on, with no intention of making boring small talk.
“Who brought the ice queen?” Katy joked as she headed into the kitchen with Aiden. “Judging by the look on her face, I’m guessing she’s not seen Jackson since his tits started coming in?”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious with that t-shirt,” Aiden whispered back.
“Oh, honey, no!” Katy laughed. “There’s no hiding those things. His double chin is really starting to look good too as well, huh?” she smiled. “You’re doing an awesome job!”
“I don’t think Jackson’s parents see it quite that way. Jackson’s just been kicked out of college!”
“That’s why we came,” Katy nodded, having already heard all about it from Gaz. She began unloading the bags she and Gaz had brought in with them, filled with tasty treats that would soon refill the cupboards and refrigerator. “We thought we could cheer up old Fatso in there,” she smirked.
Aiden felt a knot of worry in his stomach.
“I didn’t know you got a new pet rabbit,” Katy teased, chuckling at the contents of Aiden’s own solitary shopping bag. The girl had definitely arrived with her own agenda. “I’m ordering in some Chinese,” she announced to them all, heading into the living room next and standing behind the couch. She leaned over her husband’s vast shoulders, kissed the back of his sweaty head and rested her arms on his enormous chest. “I know Gaz wants the banquet feast,” she declared proudly. “What about everyone else?”
Jackson’s parents immediately refused, looking decidedly awkward.
“What about you, Jackson?” Katy asked. “You’re not going to make my husband eat all by himself, are you?”
“Actually, Jackson is trying to cut down a little,” his mother replied for him.
At this, Gaz laughed mockingly. “You’re not, are you?” he asked Jackson, summoning all the teenage peer pressure that he could. “Are you going on a diet?” he teased, pretending to find the notion to be nothing short of hilarious.
Jackson shrugged, flushing with a little embarrassment. “Not really,” he replied, glancing awkwardly to the side at his parents.
“Order him the same as me,” Gaz instructed his wife. “He almost finished it all last time.”
Katy nodded. “Good idea. We’ll also qualify for the discount if we order over a certain amount.”
All eyes seemed to fall on Aiden, waiting for him to speak next. This process of encouragement had been like a relay race, with the baton being passed from Gaz, to Katy, and now onto him. He swallowed awkwardly. “I suppose we will need to think about beefing you up now you’ve got your new security job,” he nodded at his boyfriend. “Order him some fries on the side as well,” he instructed his sister, finding his confidence once more. “He loves the fries from there.”
Even more sour faced, Jackson’s parents sat back, outnumbered and not wanting to make a scene, despite silently fuming. Gaz and Jackson talked across to each other as they commented on the football, supping the beers that Katy had brought them and relaxing more and more. Gaz was an undeniable slob, burping up the gas from his beer and stretching out his arm onto the back of the couch, despite how obviously uncomfortable he was making the other two as his fat belly peeked out from under his t-shirt.
“I think we’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight,” Jackson’s dad finally declared as a mountain of Chinese food was delivered to his son. “It’s a little crowded in here,” he grumbled, looking at the enormous size of Gaz as he began gorging himself.
“If you’re sure?” Aiden smiled, getting up to let them both out. Had getting rid of them really been that simple? He followed them to the door, feeling like he would soon be able to breathe at last. “They’re gone!” he shouted after he saw the elevator close behind them.
There was an audible cheer from the lounge area and by the time Aiden made it back inside, both of the boys had slipped off their shirts as if to celebrate. Fresh beers were opened and the quiet sense of competition began between the pair of them.
“You’ve done a great job on his capacity,” Katy nodded in approval, seeing how much Jackson was holding his own against her monstrous husband. “What did you train him on?” she asked.
“Whole milk,” Aiden explained proudly. “We did a full daily gallon for a while.”
“Nice!” Gaz nodded at his pal, continuing to eat across the way from him.
“There’s some fresh ice cream melting for you boys in the kitchen when you finish,” Katy poked her husband to remind him, so that he didn’t let himself drift off afterwards.
“Relax!” Gaz laughed. “I won’t fall asleep. We’re celebrating! You’ll find it a lot easier to gain now you’re not studying,” he told Jackson. “I absolutely ballooned after college. No more assignments, exams and stress.”
“I think that’s what my parents are worried about,” Jackson laughed.
“Fuck them!” Katy spat back uncompromisingly. “They’re the reason we came down,” she continued, looking pointedly at her little brother. “You need to learn to not take shit from them: Your house, your rules, your pig,” she stated, expressing herself using her hands, much like a politician.
“He did get there in the end,” Gaz added, standing up for his small brother-in-law. “That bit about feeding him up for his new job was hilarious!”
Aiden nodded, taking all the notes on-board. He really had gone about this the wrong way. But no more. Jackson had always loved the fact that he was so merciless in fattening him up. So why had he made such an effort to disguise his true intentions to the boy’s parents? Especially when they were so rude and hostile in response. The truth was, Aiden was more than done with playing nice.
By the time Jackson’s parents arrived the next morning, the two gluttons had gorged themselves on a small mountain of pastries. Gaz sat in the same spot on the couch, only in the underwear he had slept in. Jackson sat beside him, playing a video game on a retro console the big man had brought along with him. It was only ten in the morning, yet the pair of them were already on their second beer.
Jackson’s parents looked on with disapproval, having clearly hoped that Gaz and Katy would have gone home by then. When Gaz won the race on the screen, the big man hooted in triumph and insisted that Jackson down his beer as punishment. Meanwhile, Aiden took delight in setting down a large bowl of potato chips, as well as dips, for the pair of them.
“Are you two staying for dinner?” Aiden asked. “Katy is roasting some meats and making a giant meal before they both leave later.”
“My wife is a very good cook,” Gaz winked at the pair of them, grabbing a little roll of his belly fat as his evidence, before he started the next game with Jackson.
“Don’t worry,” Aiden smiled. “She’s teaching me everything she knows. I’ll soon be able to cook for Jackson just like she does.”
Aiden’s mother smiled politely, her lips thin and awkward. “We won’t be staying,” she replied.
“We were hoping Jackson would come home with us for a few days,” announced his dad, realising that they were unlikely to get their son alone to explain this to him privately.
“But I start my new job on Wednesday,” Jackson shrugged as the countdown for the race began on the screen.
“Well, we’ll talk about that in the car on the way home,” his dad mumbled patronisingly. “Go and get a bag ready.”
“Jackson, honey,” Aiden smiled, rubbing his boyfriend’s back as the guy became engrossed in the new race. “You don’t want to go home, do you?”
“No,” Jackson replied, entirely focused on trying to catch up to Gaz’s car.
“Ha! You’re fucked now!” Gaz laughed crudely, whizzing ahead on the screen.
“Jackson, I really think that you should consider this carefully,” his mother tried, sensing that her husband was failing to make any impact as everyone’s attention stayed fixed on the screen. “You can’t continue making all these poor choices!”
“Oh, shit! Not again!” Jackson growled, seeing his car skid out of control and into the barrier.
“Put it in reverse, honey!” Aiden insisted, pretending to be interested. “You can still do this!”
“Jackson, I really think enough is enough!” his father stated next; his voice a little louder and more serious.
“YES!” shouted Gaz loudly, crossing the finish line with a spectacular lead. He leaned his enormous, fat body over Jackson and playfully pretended to punch him in his chubby middle again and again. “Get that beer down you!” he demanded as his prize.
“Go on, honey,” Aiden laughed. “Rules are rules!”
Jackson’s parents looked at each other as their son downed yet another beer and burped up the gas in much the same way as his repulsively obese friend beside him. They watched as Jackson rubbed his bloated stomach and moaned in amusement, cracking open a can of soda instead. Aiden smirked as he could see the hope in their eyes suddenly wither away and die. 
Jackson was lost to them.
“What is it about you ex-football players and getting huge butts as soon as you finish playing?” Aiden laughed a few weeks later as he watched his naked, thick-thighed, over three hundred pound lover strutting back into the bedroom.
“Dunno!” Jackson shrugged, comically trying to twist his significantly overfed body so that he could attempt to take a look at the gigantic glutes behind him. “I guess it’s all that old muscle turning into fat. Since the holidays, I’ve really been feeling a difference back there.”
“You don’t say!” Aiden chuckled. The changes during the winter months had been really quite dramatic for a while there. Considering the fact that Jackson had only been purposefully gaining weight for just over a year, his shape was now entirely different. It was especially obvious when his shirt was off and all the more thrilling to observe. Despite the pounds and pounds of fat, it was still clear that it was all built upon a solid base: a good frame and plenty of previous muscle that shaped it all in a pleasing fashion. Rather than a soft, sagging belly, Jackson had a stout, rounded gut. His chest was dominated by fattened pecs and his muscular arms had now been coated in an insulating layer of fat, making them larger than ever before. It was obvious, from the way Jackson held himself and swaggered about, that he had never felt so masculine in his life. With his great height and build, he could still take this so much further. Perhaps, after years of training for football, building mass had been hard-wired into his brain on an endlessly rewarding feedback loop. Still handsome with his double chin, he’d continued to have girls trying to flirt with him on campus, but even they had now changed: chubby, obese girls who clearly weren’t having the sex life college had promised them. It was the security guard uniform that did it for them, no doubt, Aiden would joke, poking his overwight lover in his protrusive stomach.
Aiden had to smile, seeing Jackson’s slight erection as he excitedly slipped on his new larger underwear; a brand that Gaz had recommended to stop chafing, and one that only catered for fat guys. “These feel so much better!” he exclaimed, admiring his overweight physique in the mirror. “I’m never going back to normal underwear again.”
Aiden simply nodded and held back a chuckle. Jackson wasn’t really fat enough to fill them properly yet, nor appreciate the many ways they better supported obese men. Still, he was enjoying believing that he was; his own little fat fantasy. Even though he had learned to slob out when he got home and he could gorge himself just as well as a pig like Gaz, his body still wasn’t there quite yet. “How’re the work pants fitting at the moment?” Aiden asked, picking them up from the floor for Jackson to wear.
“They’re getting super tight!” Jackson grinned, taking them and manoeuvring his large feet down and inside the legs.
Aiden watched on sceptically. His horny, fat boy tended to have a habit of exaggerating. They were zipped and buttoned up, yet Aiden was still able to push three fingers under the waistband. “I think we’re about to hit a plateau with your weight. These should definitely be tighter by now,” he declared, tapping his boyfriend on his heavy backside.
“You serious?” Jackson asked, spinning to get a good look at himself in the mirror again. “You think my gains are slowing down?”
“Don’t worry. This sort of thing happens. It’s not so easy to fatten once the cold weather ends; complacency sets in,” Aiden shrugged. “I’ll double your calorie shake mix before bed.”
Jackson’s eyes bulged. “What? Wow!” he swooned, instantly getting aroused. “Doubling it? Seriously?” He pulled Aiden into him, as if wanting to check on his face that he wasn’t joking. “Do you realise what that would do to me?” he asked.
Aiden nodded. “Of course I do. It’s about time we started the big push towards three fifty.”
“Oh, man… when you talk like this…” Jackson mumbled, already moving to unbutton his pants with his chubby hands, so horny they were almost quivering.
“There’s no time,” Aiden smirked, stopping him in his tracks. “Your shift starts in ten minutes and I’ve got to get to class.”
“Are you really going to double my shake tonight?” Jackson asked with desperate lust.
“Yes,” Aiden smiled, collecting his books from the side.
Jackson moaned with a horny lust he knew he could do nothing about until later. The sound of it made Aiden smirk as he led the way out, knowing that his fat boy’s appetite today was already spinning into overdrive. That vending machine at his work was about to get very well used!
Aiden’s father had cooled dramatically in his enthusiasm towards Jackson by the following summer. A college drop out, fat, lazy and far too greedy for his own good; he’d adopted the same shortness with him as he gave Gaz. The fact that Jackson wasn’t picking up another job during the summer period really seemed to infuriate him as well; with his large tummy only swelling outwards as he lived off Aiden and slobbed about in the apartment above the garage.
“Doesn’t this make you miss playing football?” asked Aiden’s father as he sat down on the small chair in his lounge and caught Jackson watching some of the classic NFL moments from last season.
“No,” Jackson laughed, dipping his hand into his giant bowl of potato chips as Aiden sorted through their washing. “It just makes me remember why I quit!”
The older man shook his head in disapproval. “Katy’s husband always says the same thing when I ask,” he grumbled. “Fancy the pair of you just giving it up like that. You’re both such strange boys,” he mumbled, almost to himself.
“Well, I was the only one who quit,” Jackson corrected him. “Gaz got kicked off during his final year in college. I think he’d put on too much weight by then.”
“Oh, you think?” Aiden’s father shot back sarcastically. “Now he doesn’t even walk himself to work. Can you believe that? He gets Katy to drop him off, or gets a cab. It’s three blocks from their new apartment!”
“It’s still quite a walk,” Aiden jumped in, automatically defending his brother-in-law.
“It’s embarrassing is what it is!” his dad snapped back. “He’s broken three of your mother’s antique dining room chairs in the last year, the fat lump!” He took a sideways look at Jackson’s gut, unable to deny the bizarre similarities between his two children’s choice in partners.
“They’re very old chairs, though,” Aiden tried, handing Jackson a fresh beer and enjoying the fact that his dad was so easily wound up.
“Yes! Old and very expensive to repair!” the older man almost shouted.
Jackson’s head turned to look at the dining chairs. Only one pristine seat remained of the old set. Aiden knew exactly what he was thinking and he was more than happy with the plan that was formulating in the greedy boy’s mind. But if Jackson was going to annihilate the last chair, he’d need to up his weight by quite a good amount. “Wow, it’s hot today!” he exclaimed, leaning over the back of the couch to rest his hands on Jackson’s giant chest. “How about some ice cream?” He kissed the fat man on his ear; their silent love language that let Jackson know that Aiden had also seen the chair that needed breaking. “I’ll go pick up some supplies from the supermarket.”
Although the challenge was set, it took a further six months to achieve; with Jackson’s enormous rear finally sending the chair crashing down the day after New Year. Aiden’s mother had been in tears, whilst Jackson himself was taken back to the apartment and given the best blow job of his life.
“I told you I could do it!” he boasted, settling down with a large bucket of ice cream afterwards. His mood was nothing short of triumphant. He merrily gorged himself in reward, despite knowing that his daily calorie shakes would still need taking down soon. Then, dropping his spoon and tub to the floor, he grabbed Aiden’s hand and sent it on a guided tour of his larger gut. “Are you proud?” he asked.
“Very much so!” Aiden smiled, sitting himself on the limited remaining space on Jackson’s knee and kissing him sweetly. “There’s no repairing that sort of break. It was like it exploded!”
Jackson’s grin was wider than ever. He’d want to talk about this success for weeks to come. “Maybe now you’ll consider marrying me?” he asked for the hundredth time. Having grown so large and contrasting to Aiden, he’d suddenly become fixated by the idea.
Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “We can’t afford that yet. Especially now you’ve lost your job,” he teased; still finding it funny that Jackson had been getting away with sneaking off to gorge himself on fast food during his night shifts for so long. Still, having Jackson as a stay at home fat boy for the last few weeks had been a surprisingly kinky revelation for both of them.
“Oh, come on. We’re going to be rolling in it soon enough!” Jackson countered. “Your sister is already creating a bespoke job for you as soon as you finish college. And you know I can fatten up on the inheritance money from my grandma until then,” he chuckled.
“I’m sure that’s just what she had in mind when she left it to you,” Aiden joked.
Jackson smirked. “Well, that’s just too bad!” he sniggered. “She was always such a bitch to us. It serves her right. And, it’s either that, or get another job, which…” he chuckled, “...doesn’t especially appeal to me, now I’ve seen how quickly I can gain weight when I don’t have to get up and go to work. I never would have gotten myself over three eighty this Christmas without all that extra time to eat and sit on my fat butt.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Aiden nodded, sliding his hands up and down the mighty chest and belly of his lover.
“So let’s get married then,” Jackson grinned. “Wouldn’t it be so fun heading for breakfast with your parents tomorrow; the morning after I upset them both by breaking that antique chair, and announcing that they’re getting yet another fat slob in the family?”
Aiden laughed and nodded his head. “That certainly would be a very amusing time to do it,” he agreed. He considered the prospect some more. “Perhaps… if it was a long engagement…” he teased. “And you agreed that you’re far too skinny for us to be considering setting an actual date yet…”
Jackson's face was a picture of erotic delight, as if he was living out his favourite fantasy of all. He wasn’t the only one, either. It had been clear since the moment they first kissed that Aiden wouldn’t find anyone else so perfectly suited to him. This was it.
“I can see you had a good night last night,” Katy smirked at her new brother-in-law as she entered the lavish honeymoon suite two years later and picked up Jackson’s enormous pants, folding them neatly on the back of a chair like a woman who was well used to tidying up after her own giant husband.
“I’m amazed you didn’t break the bed!” Gaz laughed, following in behind her and heading to sit in the wide chair to chat to his buddy, Jackson, as he sat up in bed; overfed and oversexed the morning after the wedding. “That was quite some show you put on eating so much of that wedding cake!” he teased, patting his buddy on his leg, both out of pride and sympathy for how much of a drunken glutton he had made of himself in front of everyone.
Jackson laughed at himself. “I’d had quite a few beers by that point. I just though, ‘fuck it’, it’s my wedding day. If I want to eat half a cake to myself, I will do.”
Katy laughed and winked at her brother. “He’s definitely a keeper, this little piggy!” She then busied herself, explaining to Aiden about everything that had been done to ensure nothing was going to be forgotten after the reception last night. “The cake has all been boxed up and put in that bag there,” she pointed. “All the decorations are either in our car, or mom and dad’s. Aunt Sally told me to tell you how handsome you looked yesterday. She actually hit it off quite well with one of Jackson’s cousins, but I’ll save that story until you get back!”
Aiden thanked her, as the two fat men sat chatting. The over five hundred pound Jackson was completely comfortable without his shirt on in front of them all; incredible amounts of fat in his chest spreading onto his lap from his bulbous gut in much the same way it did fof Gaz. But Katy was in a rush and the pair did not stay too long, heading off and wishing them well on their honeymoon.
“Alone again!” Aiden smirked, closing the door once more and removing his clothes seductively.
The fat man growled in kinky approval and slid his fat body a little down the bed. “Bring that leftover cake,” he pointed at one of the bags that had just been delivered. “I’ve only got until tomorrow morning to break this bed,” he grinned. “This fat boy is about to show you something very special…”
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Nepo Baby
Leah Williamson x Beckham!Reader
Warning: I hate this sorry love the request but hate this
The locker room buzzed with nervous energy. England was facing Ireland, An important match in the intense group all looking to qualify for the Euros next year, and the tension was thicker than hairspray. But for Leah Williamson, captain and undisputed leader, there was an extra edge, it was her first game back for England since her ACL injury last year and although she was excited to finally be leading England back out she knew it wasn't what anyone would be talking about, not even her best friends had acknowledged the importance of today for her, all to caught up in the fan fair of a new England debut that was Y/n Beckham.
You were David and Victoria Beckham's third child, twin sister to Romeo and from the moment your name had been announced to the squad list the media had blown up, but Leah had been a sceptic. The media fawned over you, the "Beckham heir," a title that felt more like a burden than a birthright. Leah had clawed her way to the top, her talent undeniable. You, she suspected, had a silver spoon where your foot should be.
England's first training session confirmed Leah's suspicions. Your skills were undeniable – your crosses were pinpoint, your dribbling silky smooth. But there was a certain arrogance in your gaze, a sense of entitlement that grated on Leah. During a passing drill, You intercepted a ball intended for Leah, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
"Easy there, Williamson," You smirked, sending the ball sailing over Leah's head. "Maybe next time, try calling for it a bit louder."
Leah bristled. "Don't patronise me, Beckham," she growled. "This isn't your playground."
You began to regret your earlier arrogance as Leah began to nitpick her way through your play, through the rest of the training sessions at St Georges Leah found something to fault you on and you began to think back to all your past coaches who had put you on a pedestal only wanting to watch you fall. All training sessions continued like this and you hoped that she might let up but Leah seemed set in her ways.
Leah sighed walking into the conference room her first one back for England, her first one back as captain, she smiled letting out a soft hello before taking her seat beside Sarina.
Leah puffed out her cheeks as another reporter asked about you, She looked up as yet another report mentioned you and your father's talent. "Her dad worked hard to gain the career he had, Y/n has waltzed into her contracts thanks to his hard work, no other reason, she's an arrogant Nepo baby on a team of hard workers, now can we please move off this topic and actually talk about the upcoming games." The room fell into an awkward silence at the normally calm captains outburst.
The silence stretched, punctuated only by the nervous coughs of a few reporters. Sarina Wiegman, the England manager, cleared her throat, her eyes flitting between Leah and the press. "Leah makes a valid point," she finally chimed in, her voice calm but firm. "We're here to discuss the upcoming matches, and the entire squad deserves your attention. Y/n has earned her place here based on her talent, and we're all focused on bringing home a win."
Leah felt a sliver of guilt at the manager's words. She knew Sarina was right, the media frenzy surrounding Y/n wasn't fair to anyone, and her outburst was unprofessional. But the constant comparisons, the whispers of nepotism, they were a persistent itch under her skin. That guilty feeling however was made ten times worse when she caught your eye at the back of the conference room before you ducked your head and began to walk out.
You had avoided Leah for the rest of your time at St Georges as well as the short travelling day over to Dublin, and now you sat at your cubby head down staring at the ground the weight of the surname on your back, the weight of your very famous family sitting in the stands travelling to see your debut for England. You couldn't let them down, you couldn't let him down.
The anger towards you and your nepotism crept back into Leah as she listened to Kiera and Georgia harp on about you and your famous family completely forgetting that this was also an important moment for her, this was her first time back in the England squad in a year, her first time starting, her first time back as captain.
Lining up Leah grabbed your arm before you could walk out "You aren't talented, you're a kid using your father's hard work, you never had to fight for your spot it was given to you on a silver platter thanks to the name on your back." Leah spat the last part back at you and suddenly you couldn't move, Leah hit your shoulder before heading to the tunnel, but still you couldn't move, she was right after all.
Shame burned in your throat, acrid and bitter. Leah's words echoed in the empty hallway, bouncing off the lockers and amplifying the hollowness you felt inside. Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring the already dim lighting. You weren't a child, not anymore. But in that moment, Leah's words had stripped you bare, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
A shaky breath escaped your lips. You weren't a Beckham just because of your name. You'd trained relentlessly since you could walk, mimicking your dad's moves in the living room, begging him for extra sessions after school. You had the talent, you knew you did. But proving it to someone as entrenched as Leah felt impossible.
Suddenly, the weight of expectation on your young shoulders felt insurmountable. The image of your family in the stands, their hopeful faces etched in your mind, only amplified the pressure. You couldn't let them down, couldn't let your dad down after years of his unwavering support. A surge of defiance replaced the self-doubt. No, you wouldn't let Leah break you.
Suddenly, a hand touched your shoulder. You flinched, expecting another barb, but it was Lucy, her face etched with concern. "Y/n, are you alright?" she asked gently.
You shook your head, voice cracking. "I...she thinks..." you choked on the words.
Lucy understood. She'd been there, the pressure of a debut, the weight of expectations. "Listen," she said firmly, her voice laced with veteran experience, "Leah's hurting. She wants to prove herself again, and right now, she's lashing out."
"But it's true," you whispered, tears finally spilling over. "I haven't had to fight for anything."
Lucy wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a hug. "Maybe not," she conceded, "but that doesn't mean you don't have talent. We wouldn't be here if you weren't good. Use this, Y/n. Prove them all wrong, yourself included."
Her words sparked a flicker of defiance in your chest. You weren't here just because of your name. You loved football, you'd trained relentlessly, pushing yourself as hard as anyone. Maybe you hadn't clawed your way up from the bottom, but that didn't mean you didn't belong.
Wiping your tears, you straightened your back, a newfound resolve hardening your gaze. "Thanks, Lucy," you said, your voice firm. 
The roar of the Dublin crowd washed over you as you stepped onto the pitch. You glanced at Leah across the line, her jaw clenched, eyes hard with determination. It wasn't a friendly look, but it wasn't a dismissive one either.
Every touch, every pass, fueled by the need to silence the doubts, both internal and external. You played with a tenacity that surprised even yourself, weaving through defenders, your crosses finding their targets with pinpoint accuracy.
Then, in the second half, a chance. You intercepted a pass deep in your own half, broke free, and sprinted down the wing. The Irish defense converged, but you remembered Leah's words from training, the ones buried under the avalanche of criticism. You feinted left, then right, sending two defenders sprawling.
With only the Courtney Brosnan to beat, you took a deep breath, you curled the ball towards the far post. It dipped just out of reach of the goalkeeper's fingertips, nestled perfectly into the net.
The stadium erupted. Your teammates swarmed you, a joyous tangle of limbs. Even Leah offered a hesitant smile, a flicker of pride in her eyes.
The final whistle blew, and England was victorious. As you celebrated with your teammates, a hand landed on your shoulder. You looked up to see Leah, a genuine smile on her face.
"Good goal," she said, her voice the softest you've heard.
"Thank you." you smiled back before clearing your throat, your eyes pricking with tears before let out a surprised gasp at Leah pulling you into her chest.
The unexpected warmth of Leah's embrace sent a jolt through you. It was the first genuine human contact you'd had from her all camp, and for some reason, it felt like a dam breaking.
"I just want to prove myself," you mumbled against her shoulder, your voice thick with emotion. "Everyone expects me to be this prodigy, just because of my name. But I don't want to be David Beckham's daughter, I want to be Y/n Beckham, the footballer."
Leah pulled back to meet your gaze, her voice softer than you expected. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to prove yourself. I was out of line. The whole 'nepo baby' thing...it was unprofessional and unfair. You deserve to be here, Y/n. Your talent speaks for itself."
That night, under the soft glow of the locker room lights, a tentative friendship blossomed. It was a friendship forged in shared passion, mutual respect, and the unspoken understanding of the immense pressure that came with wearing the England shirt.pen_spark
You wouldn't see Leah again until England's camp in preparation for the doubleheader against France and this time the training sessions became a battleground, not of barbs and put-downs, but of fierce competition, each of you pushing the other to be better. You learned to anticipate Leah's sharp passes, and her instinctive runs, and she, in turn, began to appreciate the subtle artistry in your footwork, the way you could unlock a defence with a single, deft touch.
Late nights turned into conversations in the locker room, sharing stories, dreams, and the anxieties that came with leading a team like England. You confided in Leah about the suffocating weight of expectation, the fear of never living up to your father's legacy. She, in turn, opened up about the loneliness of being the captain, the constant scrutiny, the burden of always having to be strong.
The evening before the team were set to travel to Newcastle, after a particularly gruelling training session, you found yourself lingering in the empty team room. Leah was still there, sat on the couch scrolling in the corner. You hesitated, then walked over.
"Fancy a game of Ping Pong." You rubbed your neck nervously as Leah met your eyes before smiling "Yeah sure." You both spent the night laughing over your terrible ping-pong skills before quietly wishing each other good night.
As weeks turned into months, your friendship deepened, blossoming into something more. Stolen glances across the training field, lingering touches during celebrations, late-night texts filled with silly jokes and words left unsaid. It was a slow burn, a gradual realization that the person you once considered your rival had become someone you craved, not just on the pitch, but off it as well.
The turning point came during the final Euro qualifier match against Swede. The pressure was immense, and the score tied with only minutes remaining. You received the ball deep in your own half, the Swedish defence swarming around you. You saw a gap, a flicker of movement, and instinctively passed the ball.
Leah, anticipating the play, met the ball perfectly, unleashing a powerful shot that rocketed into the net. The stadium erupted, your teammates mobbing you both in a joyous frenzy. In that shared moment of triumph, your eyes met, and a silent confession hung heavy in the air.
Later that night, back at the team hotel, you found Leah pacing the balcony overlooking the city lights. The nervous tension that had been simmering for weeks finally broke.
"Leah," you started, your voice barely above a whisper "Are you ok." Leah walked straight for you before gently grabbing your face before you placed a hand on her chest stopping her advances. "This...us...it's not fair to the team, is it?"
She didn't move, her eyes searching yours. "Maybe not," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. "But it feels pretty damn right."
You dropped your hands to her waist as she pulled you into a searing kiss before you pulled back again Leah let out a whine in frustration, "And to think you hated me only a few months ago." Leah let out a scoff "I never hated you, how could I ever hate a girl as gorgeous as you." you laughed before pulling her into another kiss
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