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deceitfuldevout · 7 months

Text

Naughty Little Thief

Dark!Jackson Rippner x Theif!Reader

Word Count: +5,416

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Theft, Stalking, Manhandling, Forced Oral (m receiving), Forced Stripping, Forced grinding, Unwanted orgasm, Classism, Verbal abuse, Partial loss of virginity, Rimming (f receiving), Public sex, Humiliation.

Author's Note(s): I'm bored at work and wanted to kill some time before studying. Here's more Cillian content.

It's the holiday season, and you end up pickpocketing the wrong person. He makes sure you'll regret ever crossing paths with him.

You felt bad for what you were about to do. But he didn't seem like he was financially struggling. So of course, you decided to pickpocket the stranger. Deep down you hated it, but there was no other choice. It was either this or going hungry tonight. At the end of the day it didn't matter, money was money. That was the mindset that's kept you alive for so long. You spot the chosen victim, he's a businessman, seemingly in his thirties, wearing an expensive tailored suit. Jackpot.

You wind your way through the crowd of shoppers, scurrying towards the unsuspecting man. You're right beside him, giving a light pinch to his left side. As soon as he turns to find the source, you quickly reach into his right pocket and pull out his wallet, scurrying into the crowd to disappear. That was almost too easy. You could tell by the texture alone that it was expensive. You turn it around and read the embroidery on the flap, 'J. Rippner'. A man who has good taste.

But before you could open it, someone grips the back of your neck. A large leather hand digs into your skin. You cry out, dropping the wallet as both of your hands reach for the stranger's. He turns you to face him. It's Rippner, and he's pissed, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Hm?"

"I...I.." you were at a loss of words. He drags you by the arm into the nearest alleyway. You look around for someone, anyone who would see what was happening and stop him. No one, of course. Who would help a thief like you? He slams you hard against a brick wall, your head throbbing in pain from the impact. It takes you a while to catch your breath as all the air had escapes your lungs. He uses his body to trap yours between the cold stone, caging you with him.

He growls, "You wanna steal from me you thieving little bitch?!", he's fuming, "I should drag your ass straight to the police station," he hisses, his features twisting with anger. You could tell by those cold, piercing eyes that he was not an easily forgiving man. Yet still, you tried to persuade him, "W-wait! Please! I'll do anything! I-I swear!"

Jackson pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering up at down your quivering form. He's thinking of something that would satisfy his growing hunger, "Show me your tits," for a moment, you couldn't believe what he had just said, brows furrowing in confusion, "I-I'm sorry?" you look at him as if he'd grown two heads. He leans in, now grumbling, "Show me those tits, and I'll decide if you're worth letting go,"

His hands grip the front of your jacket as he unzips it. He rips open the buttons off your blouse, ignoring your protests. Finally reaching a lacy bralette hidden under all those layers. He whistles, "Well I'll be damned, you weren't expecting anyone, were you?" he mocks. Your fingers dig into his arms, but it was futile. You bare your teeth at the man holding you hostage, "Go to hell you perv!" that remark only worsens your situation. He drags the fabric down, revealing both your breasts to the winter air.

You gasp, trying your best to cover them. A leather gloves reaches to twist one of your buds. His voice is stern, "I'm sorry, what was that?" pulling harshly at the sensitive nub. You yelp from his touch, retreating in hopes that he would halt his actions. You were wrong, instead that bratty tone from earlier, landed you a harsh slap on the chest. His gloves didn't ease the impact. He delivers strike after strike against your bare flesh. Until both buds began to peak on their own.

He fondles them in his hands, eyeing his work, "Nice tits..." he gives both of them a squeeze, pulling them towards him, "Very responsive..." his deep voice now a purr. All you could do was glare back at him with tearful eyes, trying your best not to cry. You hadn't expected a complete stranger to be so cruel. You, a literal thief.

Jackson dips a finger into your mouth. When you try to bite down, he delivers a light tap on your jaw. Holding the back of your head with an iron grip as he points in your face, "Don't even think about it, I'm not joking I'll drag your sorry ass bare naked down the streets," he threatens. His hands reach around your waist. He yanks your pants down to your ankles. Exposing your bottom half to him.

He takes a look at the panties you were wearing. Staring back at the teddy bear print and smirks, "How adorable..." his fingers slide in between your legs, caressing the now slick folds though the fabric. You turned your head to the side to see if any onlookers would pass by. He notices and angles his body to cover your form. He whispers in your ear, "Shh...I just need you to help me, and I'll help you, then we're even," it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

He reaches around the waist of your panties, slowly sliding off your underwear. He groans at the sight of it, licking his gloved digits before sliding them up and down your slit. You whine from the light, sensual touches. He reaches for your opening, collecting any wetness. His breathing increases, as does yours. He captures your bud in his hand, teasing it until you almost lost footing. You grip his shoulder for balance. He chuckles, "Oh you like that, don't you?" he teases. That earns him a harsh slap.

You were done being his little plaything. No more, you weren't going to whore yourself out to anyone. Especially not to some trust-fund baby. His head whips the other way, strands of his hair now dangling against his forehead. His cheek twitches, as if there were a battle going on inside him, "Oh, you've fucked up now..." both his hands are around your neck, squeezing it as hard as he could. You try fighting back, fingers digging into his wrists.

But it was futile, there was no way of stopping him. When your vision begins to blur and grip starts to weaken, he lets go. You cough hysterically, trying your best to breathe again. He waits until you're done with the dramatics. He grips your chin, eyes boring into your own, "That, was a warning," he pushes both your shoulders down until you're on your knees, "This, is your punishment," slotting his foot in between both legs.

He forces you to sit on his leather shoe, tilting your head to look him in the eyes, "Get yourself off," he commands. By now, you know not to disobey his orders. You try testing the waters, the cold leather felt uncomfortable against your bare mound. It was almost unbearable. It takes a while before you collect any slickness. Your ears getting warmer despite the weather.

Rippner chuckles, he retrieves his foot before you've had a chance to finish. He examines his now wet shoe. He sneers, "Really? You're seriously getting off on me using you like this?" a cruel grin plays on his face. He presses his shoe against your bare pussy, he mushes it against the opening, "Of course you'd like that...you're nothing but filth..." his cruel words made you blink back tears. They feel hot gliding down your cheeks. It almost makes him feel bad for doing all of this to you. But then again, you did just try to rob him.

He sighs, "We've got to do something about that mouth of yours," he suddenly unzips his pants, pulling out his half-hard cock. Your eyes bulge at the sight of it, pressing your lips shut in protest. He held his girth in one hand and your hair in the other. Jackson glides his shaft across your face, his leaking tip smears precum on your cheek. He mockingly taps his cock against your lips. His voice is raspy, "Does this make you squirm?" he knew exactly what he was doing to you with those words.

He pinches the bridge of your nose to cut off any air supply, forcing your mouth to open. He doesn't waste any time shoving his member deep inside. His tip now touching the back of your throat. It makes your eyes water. The corners of your lips rip from the stretch of his girth alone. How it could fit, you hadn't a clue. Both his hands grip the sides of your head, as he begins to buck his hips. He groans, "Oh fuck...you feel fucking amazing..." moaning with each thrust.

He stops himself from going any further. He wants to cum inside, but not in your mouth. No, he'll save it for some other time. He pulls you away from his cock and you're an absolute mess. Spit and tears everywhere. He lifts you by the shoulders, pressing you against the brick wall, again. He aims his tip against your cunt. It takes you a moment to process what was happening. Then in a split moment both of your arms shoot out, "N-no! Not there!" You cried, "Anywhere but there!" your voice starts to break.

Even after losing everything, you still didn't want your first time to be with a complete stranger. He could do whatever he wants, just not that. His long fingers wrap around your neck, adding a bit of pressure as he whispers in your ear, "Oh? And why is that?" genuinely curious. Your answer is faint, almost silent. He didn't quite catch what was said, "I'm sorry, what was that?" he held your jaw in place so he could look at you in the face. There was no way, not at your age. Did he hear you correctly?

You were starting to get pissed off, "I said I never fucked before, asshole!" that had you receive a harsh slap on the ass, "Ow! Ow okay! I'm sorry, just stop already!" that explains a lot. How you managed to leave his gloves and shoe soaking wet. As much as Rippner wants to pump a load into that sweet pussy, he decides to save it for later. Instead, he flips you over, your bare chest now against concrete.

Jackson bites his lips. He can't believe he's getting on his knees for someone like you. He parts both your cheeks, spitting at your rim to get it nice and wet. He flattens his tongue, lapping it against the tight ring before thrusting it in. Your knees began to buckle, you use the wall for support. Pressing your face against the brick. He bobs his head to a rhythm, and you can't stop moaning. His tongue reaching deep inside the muscle. His free hand reaches to rub at your clit, while the other pumps his cock.

After a while he stands up, aiming his now leaking tip against the rim, "This is going to hurt, a lot," he starts to enter, pushing inch by inch. You squeal at the stretch. A gloved hand muffles your cries. He began to give short, small thrusts. He grunts from how tight you were. Almost climaxing from the squeeze you gave. He quickens his pace, wrapping his other arm around your waist for better leverage. From there he went on autopilot, ignoring your pleas to slow down. He simply couldn't, he doesn't want to.

Finally, he releases a load deep inside. You felt his hot spunk coating your insides. Your head felt heavy after already reaching your own orgasm. His head hung over your shoulder. His breathe felt warm, "I've been eyeing you for a while, little mouse," It's true, he's been watching you for some time. You had first caught his eye when his chauffer was stuck in traffic. He watched as you went into action. It was remarkable, that talent of yours.

He's been planning this for some time. Today he wanted to see you up close. He had to know more about you. Even asking his ride to drop him off a few blocks. Jackson purposely took this route knowing that he'd get robbed. He needed an excuse to talk to you, his little specimen of interest. He knew the exactly how you would steal from your victims. Although he couldn't feel the hand reaching into his pocket, it was pinch you gave to his side that indicated him the wallet had already been stolen. That was his sign to take over the situation.

His arms are still wrapped around your upper body, hands now playing with your tits, "I'm Jackson by the way, Jackson Rippner," he tells you while still buried deep inside, "You've been targeting this street for a while now, you live around here?" no answer. You downright refused to entertain him any longer. He gasps, "Oh...that's right I completely forgot..." he grips your hips, slowly pulling out his member. He hisses from the feeling. It's almost too good to stop.

He retrieves a napkin from his coat pocket and hands it to you. When you refuse to take it, he isn't mad. Although you were testing his patience. He helps you get changed, satisfied that you kept his load in. Your panties were probably soaked by now. Once the both of you were decent, he asks you again. Yet still, no answer. For that he lands another slap on the same spot. You yelp from the impact, "Here! I live here!" "I know that, but where? This is a shopping district, there aren't any homes in this area, so, answer my question: Where do you live?"

You look out the alleyway to a place across the street. He pulls you in, with an arm now wrapped around your waist. From a distance it seemed as if the two of you were lovers. You guide him to where you've been living in the past few months. Right across the street in a small, worn-out vehicle. Jackson raises a brow, "You live...in a car?" he sounds genuinely surprised.

It's the dead of winter. Not exactly the perfect time to be stuck out on the streets. But it was all you had. You turn around to face him, "Yeah well, some of us don't have daddy's money to get us by..." you scoff. He likes that answer. Good, you wouldn't have anyone to miss you. He grins from ear to ear, tilting his head, "If that's the case, you're coming with me," He drags you to a mysterious black car with tinted windows. Your feet drag against the pavement. You' we're too exhausted to fight back.

It felt uncomfortable trying to find a sitting position. Jackson hops in right after, sitting unbearably close to you. He held you close, like a lover would. He sighs with adoration, "You don't have to worry about your things because I'm keeping you," he taps the tip of your nose, "But no more stealing? Got it?" he'd rather not draw any negative attention your way. Jackson then hums a holiday tune, which one you didn't care. All you could think of was how much you regretted ever stealing from him. He held you close to him, stroking your hair before giving a chaste kiss, "Merry Christmas to me, eh?"

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chlorinecake · 13 days

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i need (politely) more fics like the one with wonbin where they fuck while being high, yk? with whoever you want, i’m down for everything. i need it for my soul and for my well being LOVE U CHLOE

grapefruit diet | s. es

𓂋 stoner boyfriend!eunseok x fem!reader, body image themes, pda, some car action (ykyk), giggly high sex with a mix of praise and body worship, lots of kissing and swearing as always, 3.7k wc

author’s note 𓂋 this is part of my unofficial Euphoria x Riize series where each member is assigned a song from the show and a stoner trope, so feel free to comment who you’d like to see next!

“BABE, WE JUST bought a two-pound bag of grapefruits last week… there’s no way you’re out of ‘em already,” Eunseok said from behind you, voice low and a bit gravelly from his lengthy smoke session earlier.

You could never smell the herb in his clothes, but it usually lingered in his breath for a bit, making you crave a few blows yourself just from kissing him.

Cravings… the word meddled in your mind for a moment until you realized Eunseok was still waiting on your reply.

“I’ve been having one for every meal, though, so I’ll need more for next week…” you replied, sentence coming out more like a mumble towards the end as you leaned down to examine the fruit before you, trying to find the perfect bag.

Perfectionism… another word you aspired to mirror someday, despite how much it pained you.

“Are you on some sort of diet I should know about?”

It’s no secret that you struggle with body image from time to time, and Eunseok’s always been concerned for your health, taking mental notes and observations on both your behavioral and physical changes.

He’d never say anything to your face, though.

He’s respectful enough to keep his thoughts concerning you to himself...

“One you should know about? Not exactly… but I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results if I stay on tract this time…” you smiled softly, tossing the bag of grapefruit in the shopping cart and taking a few steps away.

The sound of the basket’s slightly rusted wheel’s squeaked behind you as Eunseok followed your short path.

“I won’t say anything against your choice because I trust you’ll be careful, but just know that I’m in love with you either way, ____.”

You suddenly went quiet on him, feeling your breathing pattern change from his choice of words.

Trust… Careful… Love...

“Either wayyy, alright?” He pressed, looking into your eyes for confirmation before giving your shoulder a playful shake and placing a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“I’m in love with you too, baby,” you said, wiping his kiss off with your thumb and dragging it across his lower lip, eyes meeting his intensely, “sort of.”

“Cute,” Eunseok smiled, pretty teeth coming into view with his laughter before he gripped the shopping cart handle and tilted his head at you, “Now get in, will ya?”

Letting out a sigh and playfully rolling your eyes, you climbed into the shopping basket, sitting against the back end so you could face him as he pushed you around the grocery aisles.

You two were always that one couple who proudly displayed affection for each other in public.

Whether that be with his hand tucked into your back jean pocket while strolling through the library, or baby-talking to each other while hugging outside his workplace, you two had to be touching... one way or another.

And these clingy tendencies were only amplified whenever you two were buzzed...

Your fingers grazed over his knuckles as he pushed the basket, peppering them with kisses as he looked down at you, moving the hand that wasn't occupied by your lips to pat your head slightly.

“Want anything else before we go? You know how we can sometimes get the munchies after smoking,” Eunseok started, eyes now scanning over the aisle signs as he continued walking at a steady pace.

Humming tiredly at his proposal, you thought in your mind how badly you'd been wanting to sink your teeth into something that wasn't another bitter grapefruit or the flesh of Eunseok's wrist while cuddling in bed.

But you were so proud of yourself for staying committed to your diet over the past week... you don't get why you decided to smoke with him earlier, knowing that it'd only make it harder for you to control your now salivating tongue.

“Ranch-style chicken sub with bacon, lettuce, and tomato,” your boyfriend read from the label of a tightly wrapped deli item, “looks good to me.”

“You know I won’t eat all of that, Eunseok,” you replied, hands now sitting in your lap as you fidgeted with your chipped nail polish.

Why was he even tempting you right now?

He knows how important it is to you to stay in shape-

“Then we'll split it... and if I'm still hungry, I'll eat whatever you leave behind,” he said, interrupting your thoughts while grabbing a bag of Cheetoes from the nearby chip rack, “deal?”

Your stomach grumbled, the pain in your head started to throb and you couldn't tell if it was because of the weed or your hunger.

Reaching from the basket, you gently took the wrapped sub from his grasp, turning it over to analyze the nutritional facts label, reading 560 calories, 24g fat, 51g carbs, and 38g protein.

It was definitely a lot more calorie-dense than the usual half a grapefruit you ate for lunch every day, but it would definitely stop you from feeling nauseous right now.

Besides, you knew he wouldn't let you say no, and he was nice enough to agree to split it instead of buying you a whole one, “Fine.”

SITTING IN THE passenger seat of Eunseok's car, he passed you a water bottle to help wash your food down, happy in your heart that you decided to go ahead and eat with him even though he bought a whole sub for himself yet still ate the rest of what you didn’t want like he promised.

You were now just a few minutes from home, a Dean song playing faintly in the background as you couldn't get over how hot your boyfriend looked while driving.

“You're staring at me,” he started, eyes training on the road ahead as the red light switched to green, “why?”

“Because we decided to smoke pot together instead of fucking like we really wanted to,” you answered shamelessly, feeling warm in your stomach now that you'd actually said it.

“Just got your energy back, and you're already thinking of ways to use it all up again,” he replied, driving with only one hand on the steering wheel as he relaxed into a manspreading position in his seat, knowing that it'd only drive you crazy.

You couldn't believe this guy, not sure if his comment was one of rejection or an invitation, but you just took it as the later.

Looking in the glove department, you pulled out a sleek box mod, only to put it back once you noticed it wasn't fully charged.

You instead reached for the fresh blunt that was stuffed in your bra from earlier, heating it with your hot pink pocket lighter before guiding it to your lips and giving it an inhale.

“What's the point of saving energy anyway if we're just gonna be boring with it?,” you offered, watching him glance at you through the corner of his eye before you guided the blunt to his lips as he kept driving.

Gently holding his face in place, you let him inhale a puff of his own, cloudy smoke swiveling in pretty shapes around you both before dissolving in the air around his lips.

“Thanks, princess,” he said in a now low voice, the sound of the ignition ascending over the music as he sped along the highway, “now sit back down and put your seatbelt on…”

There he goes again… telling you what to do like he always did.

Leaning away from him, you sat back down properly this time, reaching for your seatbelt and fastening it with a subtle click, “You’re bossy as hell, y’know that?”

“Yup. And disobeying me seems to be a great motivator for you,” he went on, letting out a breath as he felt your eyes on his lap, your hands creeping closer to him, “don’t touch me while I’m driving.”

“I was only looking—”

“I’m serious, ____,” he interrupted your sentence, voice sounding like a mix of strained and stern emotions.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat with a swallow… he always had a habit of doing that whenever he was turned on…

Your dry lips met the joint once again, letting it's fumes fill your chest with another fast-inducing hit of whatever psychedelic mix Eunseok initially rolled it with a few hours ago.

With this, you decided to take your chance, creeping a finger up his thigh closest to you and letting your hand massage into his bulge.

The car suddenly jolted forward, his foot having slammed on the breaks at your actions, “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Maybe a little,” you replied seductively, now unbuckling his belt and zipping down his pants, “just keep your eyes on the road and let me please you…”

He let out a sigh at your words, followed by a hiss as your hand returned to stroking him through his boxers, a small smile poking at the corner of your lips at the feeling of him hardening beneath your touch.

His free hand took to blunt from your idle grasp, giving it another long puff before placing it down to sizzle out on the dashboard.

“Fine… but since you really wanna play that game, don’t keep me waiting,” he said with a heavy voice, hand finding your head in an almost petting manner as you leaned over the seat, face hovering over where he wanted you most.

But you had no intention of using your mouth for him, wanting to make him crave you even more to the point where he’d have no other choice but to fuck you once you two got home…

By now, the music in the background was drowned out by the sound of faint groans thrumming from his mouth, eyes falling lazy as it became harder for him to concentrate on the road with the way you were stroking him.

You let a wad of spit dribble from your lips and onto his tip, his dick twitching a bit in your hand at the sudden feeling.

“Fuck,” he groaned with a raspy voice as your grip around him intensified with your speed, “your hands are so cold…”

You almost couldn’t hide the giggle that came out of you at his words, “Well I’m not using my mouth, so get over it…”

“Why not, pretty? Don’t feel like swallowing?,” he teased, gripping a handful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him, a weak whine stuck in your dry throat.

“It’s not that,” you whispered weakly, dragging out the strokes of your hand around his dick while looking into his glossy eyes, “I just know that you won’t kiss me afterwards if I suck you off...”

He let out an amused snicker, his next sentence being broken off by the feeling of your spit coating his tip once again.

As good as your hand felt wrapped around him right now, he couldn’t help but crave the warmth of your pussy, slamming his foot on the gas to get you both home sooner.

Besides, he’d had enough of your teasing, and it was only getting harder for him to hold back the longer he sat there, hands bound either to the steering wheel or the nape of your neck.

So lost in the pleasure, you're not sure if he even noticed it when your free hand slipped between your legs, teasing the throbbing ache growing at your core.

It didn't take long for you two to arrive, Eunseok trying his best to still park the car in the driveway neatly, despite how he'd just did pot a few minutes ago with your needy hands never ceasing to pump him...

He gave you a non-verbal cue to stop touching him by gently guiding your shoulder away from him.

He fought his hardest to hide the way his thighs were trembling, even though it was obvious all over his flushed face how needy you were making him feel.

You crawled even closer to him, letting the weight of your hand push into his thigh as you braced yourself to meet his lips in a desperate kiss, “I'm so nice for not making you cum all in your pants, huh?”

“Not like you wouldn't have cleaned me up anyways,” he replied with almost mumbled words, the mix of weed and lust in his system right now making him feel dizzy.

That's when you saw his hand reach into the glove department, pulling out a pack of baby wipes and handing you one, “For your hand...”

It was funny how meticulous he could be with staying neat sometimes. Almost as meticulous as you could be when it came to your appearance.

“My hand's are fine, Eunseok, I just jerked you off,” you said, holding the wipe in your palm until he took your hand by the wrist, wiping each individual finger for you.

“The other hand, please,” he continued, your arm obediently giving him your hand to wipe the slick spread all over your fingers, “can't believe you couldn't wait for me to please you, ____... did your pathetic little fingers feel any good?”

“Not as good as yours,” you smirked, crawling backwards and out of the car, both of your movements rushed yet lazy as you made it to the front door together, wrapping yourself around your boyfriend's arm.

“Just try not to fall over because I'm not sure I'll be able to catch you right now,” he teased, twisting the front door knob with one hand as his tingly arm tried bracing you with the other.

Neither of you are sure if it was the free slick meddling between both your legs or the burnt weed coursing through your bloodstream making you feel more dizzy.

Eunseok gave the house a quick scan in his mind as he tried contemplating on the safest place for you high fools to have a quick fuck, his head tilting toward the ceiling with closed eyes.

He could hear you lock the front door from behind him, humming at the proceeding feeling of you sliding his jacket from his shoulders and hanging it on the wall rack.

“God, you're in such a hurry today, baby, gimme a sec,” he chuckled, watching as you started to work on taking his belt off, using the buckle to hold him in place as your lips met his.

Thirsty, yet somehow sloppily.

“You've kept me waiting long enough already,” you exhaled breathlessly, palming him through his jeans as you felt his teeth barely snug at your lower lip, his cold grip finding your warm waist.

“Just settle down, mhm?” he growled lowly with a sly look on his sharp feature, “daddy's gonna take good care of you...”

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully smacking him on the chest before your scoffs turned into yelps, his arms lifting you from the ground and wrapping your legs around him.

“Eun- Eunseok, you kinky bastard, r-release me!,” you squirmed, watching over his shoulder as you suddenly made it from the front door to your shared bedroom.

He plopped you on the mattress, letting out one of the most attractive sighs you'd ever heard before guiding your hands back to his belt buckle.

“Finish taking it off for me, and I might forgive you for calling me a name...”

You looked at him with baby-doll eyes, which were painfully stained a light shade of red from the weed you smoked earlier, “Sorry,” you said sarcastically softly, leaning forward to free the leather belt from his hips with your hands, “You know I was only messing with you... daddy...”

All he did was stroke your hair in response, the shadow of a smile on his face at your sense of humor.

In a strange way, your playful demeanor only turned him on even more, and he simply couldn't get over how pretty you looked from this angle.

Hair slightly disheveled, your once sharp black eyeliner smudged into a grey blur over your eyelids, and your lips a bit more plush than usual from his teeth nipping at them...

What Eunseok was feeling right now was different from any craving he'd ever felt before... a yearning he'd only ever felt for you.

The same word that meddled relentlessly in the back of your mind, stacked at the very top of your own impossible standards for yourself was the very word on the tip of his tongue right now...

Perfection.

And you were just that in every sense of the word.

The space between you two was warm right now, the mere clothes on your back feeling a bit excessive as your hearts continued to race, despite your minds being still as stone.

“You're absolutely gorgeous,” your boyfriend nearly blurted out, making your hands halt as his sudden words.

“Stop it, Eunseok...,” your voice fell gently to an almost inaudible whisper, gaze falling down to the ground only for his loving hand to guide your chin back up to face him.

“Stop what, darling?”

You let out a breath, struggling to keep eye contact as you started to feel embarrassed, “...Trying to make me feel better about myself...”

“Baby,” he started with a sigh, sitting down beside you on the bed and stroking your slouched shoulder, “these aren't just empty words of mine... you seriously are the most beautiful girl in the world to me, and I wish you could see that, ____...”

It was almost enough to make you cry once he slowly slide you hoodie off and started peppering kisses from your wrist and up to your collarbone.

“I wish I could see that, too,” you admitted, finding comfort in the way his lips made love to you, even at the seemingly neglected areas like behind your ear, where he happily nibbled in his fit of praise.

“Then allow me to remind you how beautiful you are to me,” he whispered, turning your face to his as he finally met your lips again in a sweet embrace, which soon escalated as his tongue went to tangle with yours.

“My needy girl,” he smiled after pulling down your jeans single-handedly, his straight fingers sliding over the paper-thin panties you wore, evidently soaked with yoru slick from how long you'd been waiting for this, “you're honestly the prettiest when the only thought on your mind is my cock...”

“Wanna bet I'd look even prettier once you're actually inside me?,” you asked teasingly, not even realizing that you were slowly rutting against his fingers as he slid them over your folds.

“Oh? And where has this sudden confidence come from?”

You bunched up a bit of his shirt in your fists before pulling him back close to you, feeling even more hungry for the sensation of his mouth against yours.

“Maybe because I'm finally getting what I want,” you answered, just as a weak moan cracked from your throat when he angled your head up by the jaw with his hand, kissing down your neck desperately.

He really didn't have any more time to waste, and it only benefited his stamina even more now that the effects of the weed were starting to settle in for him...

Not fully kick in, but settle...

His warmth left your body for a moment as he stood up to take off his shirt before leaning back down, his hands groping one of your tits as he shimmied his pants the rest of the way down with his free hand, the under-side of his tongue salivating at the sight of your erect nipples.

“How blank is your mind right now?” He asked, letting his shaft slap on your clit as he slid it down to poke at your entrance.

“Just foggy,” you said with a dry swallow, feeling yourself grow even more dumb with lust as he teased your hole with just the tip.

He hummed at your words, barely thrusting his head in before your legs started to shake, “Well you can trust that I'll be careful with you unless you want me to go harder... Is that a deal, love?”

Trust… Careful… Love...

The last word you remember saying was a cheeky “Deal” in return before he pushed himself all the way in, thrusting through your tightness as you eventually warmed up to his size.

Needless to say, a bit of the herbal effects still lingered in your system as he kept rutting into your heat as if half of his mind wasn't wandering on cloud 9 right now.

His eyes blinked with flutters before sealing shut with a hum at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, waves of pleasure bouncing through both your bodies as his sweaty forehead came into contact with yours, his thrusts only getting faster and faster.

Not in a rough way, but with passion.

That was up until you kept arching your back off of the mattress, his strong hand having to push you down so he could fuck into you properly.

You always liked it whenever you two fucked after smoking... the way he'd kiss you all hot and heavy while murmuring the dirtiest of things into the crook of your neck, and the way he'd look into your eyes while high on two different chemicals, wanting nothing more but to bring you over the edge with him and fall into each other's pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you're doing so good for me- shit, feels so good, princess,” he panted on top of you, his own mind starting to mirror the fog meddling in yours, especially with the way your tits were bouncing right now.

Your body and of course everything else about you was quite literally like a wet dream to him, and if he had the choice, he'd never wanna wake up from it.

By now though, he could tell that you were way into it just from the way your breath wobbled like it waswalking along a tightrope, incoherent whimpers of yes, please, and mmm's bouncing off the bedroom walls.

He felt his hips stutter just as a loud curse escaped his mouth, his slimy thickness pulling out of you as spurts of his cum coated your throbbing pussy, feeling especially warm against your sweaty skin.

Everything in his body wanted to fuck his release back into you, but he knew it was best not to, especially with the way your body was contracting from your orgasm.

He leaned down for the last time to leave tender kisses all over your chest and face, whispering sweet I love you's into the sensual air flowing between you.

He gave both of your tired muscles a moment to calm down before rolling on his back, your chests still heaving as little sighs passed through your swollen lips, the taste of each other pretty evident on both your tongues.

“Was that worth the wait, baby?” He asked first, an obvious smile on his face once he saw you get up in his peripheral vision, legs still wobbly as you crawled over to straddle him, twitching from how sensitive you felt right now.

“Almost... but it definitely could've lasted a bit longer,” you teased, letting your hands roam over his toned abs as you slowly rocked your hips against him, letting your core coat him all over again with your wetness.

You felt his touch travel from your goosebump-stained thighs and all the way up to your lower back, where he guided you to let him back inside.

Both of your energy levels were near completely spent right now, and that was just from your first round taking him.

Even so, if there's one thing about you two as a couple, it's that your clingy tendencies only heighten whenever you're buzzed, and with the look on your faces in this moment, he didn't plan on putting that fact to rest.

“I suppose another round wouldn't hurt,” he smirked, watching as you slid down his length while biting your lip, more than ready to use the last of your energy to ride out another high...

As the narrator, I would love to end the story here, but in favor of the over-thinkers, I should clarify that you and Eunseok ended up forgetting the grapefruits in his car trunk by accident...

Not that either of you cared, though... with the way your night ended, it was totally worth the wasted three dollars and some change on a bag of bitter fruit and future hunger-pains...

🛒 personal note to the original anon: Hopefully this fic did your soul some justice :'] and TYSM for requesting this!! Apologies for taking so long to get to your ask, but either way, I think it's super sweet how much you enjoy my stoner!tropes, and I look forward to writing more for you in the near future ~

🛒 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr + the link to my riize master list ! ! !

#riize #riize x reader #riize ff #riize eunseok #song eunseok #eunseok smut #eunseok fanfic #riize smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #eunseok hard thoughts #riize imagines #riize angst

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messyhairedhazeleyeddude · 4 months

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Detriment | Jujutsu Kaisen

A Yuji Itadori / Sukuna x Fem!Reader | ANGST + SMUT

Contents ; Angst, violence, sadism, slight non-con, gore details, voyeurism, and humiliation.

Dynamic ; Soft Dom!Itadori | Hard Dom!Sukuna | Sub!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; Third

Pronouns used ; She/Her

Age Range ; 18+ | College Years

(Wow! What a great way to start this off, huh? Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Grab some snacks if you want and curl up into whatever blanket you got. Listen to some music too, here’s something I recommend as always.)

━ ━°⌜ 始まり ⌟°━ ━ | Translation : The Beginning |

Sorcerors barely have time for love. That was agreed upon everyone who lived in the profession. No one among Jujutsu High could go for a relationship grander than a simple fling or a couple of flirtatious exchanges with someone outside the school.

If they did marry eventually, the couple wouldn’t go without a very rocky path ahead of them. Either one would die in battle and the other would follow suit in depression or it would turn for the worse in causing the pair to resent each other. Barely anything in between.

Succession only came with retiring from sorcery which rarely happened. It was too dangerous to leave the life behind. And for Yuji Itadori, he was trapped there until his life ended. So, with all of that that in mind, why was she on a date?

He was staring at the girl he had a crush on for almost the entire semester leaning her head on the shoulder of Toge Inumaki, sleeping soundly as he patted her. Grief writhed itself in his expression and a couple of tears began to brim the corners of his eyes.

The defeated boy turned around from the sight and laid his forehead on both of his arms, trying to wipe away his heartbreak. While both of his peers, Nobara and Megumi tried their best to rush over to him to spout nonsensical comfort. He was just running away from them not too long ago. The two were acting weird and awkward, hushing things to each other.

When he found out that it was about (Y/N) from the small whisper of her name, he bugged them over and over to let him in on the gossip. Eventually, he gave up and went to find out for himself. He wished he never heard a single murmur now.

Before Itadori knew it, he was full blown sobbing against the brick staircase. He knew he shouldn’t feel this terrible about something that was destined to never happen in the first place. Although, that didn’t change anything on what he felt. Even as both of his classmates watched him have the breakdown. Nothing stopped the rage from coming to him.

Hyperventilating, Yuji stood back onto both feet, mumbling to himself while his reality was shifting into different colors. Something was wrong. He noticed what he was feeling instantly. But, that couldn’t be right. Sukuna had no reason to come out. Why would he waste his time on this?

The loss of control on his emotions gave him a huge disadvantage when trying to hold back the king of curses. It felt like his limbs were being crushed as he fought him. Worst thing about it wasn’t the pain though, it was the fact he could hear him.

“You’re really going to let a man that can’t even speak get her like that, huh?” Sukuna bellowed out in his head, “How pathetic!” So that was it. He was here to taunt him.

If Itadori could, he would beat into his skull all of the anger that was running through his veins currently. But, he was no match for him. He understood that as soon as his body felt numb and all he could do was watch him take over. Once again.

A smirk appeared over the huge frown that was there a second ago, markings appearing and disappearing to signify who was truly present. Both Megumi and Nobara jumped back with their bodies positioned in a fighting stance, bringing out their closest weapons to point them at Sukuna.

They both had a terrified look to their eyes, focused on keeping a safe distance, and guarded for anything that he tried. Although, they also knew that it wouldn’t do to stop him and they’d probably die any minute.

Sweat dripped down from Megumi’s forehead as he shouted at the evil curse, “Sukuna! Return Itadori or else!” He summoned his demon dogs who immediately went to lowering themselves and approaching him slowly. A part of him was worried it was the end already, but he could tell that Sukuna still didn’t have his full potential. He was weak.

Nobara wanted to add in her own demands too, “We aren’t afraid to pummel ourselves into the ground with you until you do.” Even though it was shaky, she held up three nails in each of her fingers, auras of cursed energy embedded in every single one. Her eyes gave off a bit of a crazier look while she grinned back at him.

It was right there that the demon himself clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth several times at them, “Tch, tch, tch…” The red flared in his orbs while his sharp teeth brimmed his bottom lip, letting them soak in his frightening presence.

As much as he wanted to kill them, Itadori was fighting hard on the inside, and he didn’t have enough time before Satoru would show up. That meeting had to wait. So, he decided he would ‘clear the air’ and that was through forcefully grabbing Nobara by the neck; lifting her up while disabling her nails and hammer by using his ability, ‘Dismantle’.

He dug his fingernails into her neck, causing her to grab at his wrist, struggling to breath. Megumi unleashed the demon dogs, the shikigami’s rushing to his legs and opening their jaws to bite. But they didn’t get to latch their teeth in as they were cut into a million pieces in an instant.

Closing his eyes, Sukuna took in a deep inhale and sighed out in satisfaction, “I can smell her. That raw power. No wonder this kid is drawn.” His smirk widened and he cracked his neck, throwing Nobara to the side, and causing her to slide on the concrete before hitting her back on a stone wall.

Megumi yelled out her name, rushing over to her side while Sukuna began walking towards the direction of (Y/N), his hands shoving themselves into his pockets. He continued, “I’m here to give him a hand… And take something that was meant to be mine.” The excitement in his voice never wavered. It increased.

All at once, Megumi threw the rest of his shikigami’s toward him, but none were able to get past his attacks. Every time, they were slashed into tiny pieces and a puddle of blood and guts. The black-haired boy fell to his knees next to Nobara, picking her up in his arms and checking to see if she was okay.

Nothing else stopped him from approaching the girl anymore. Instead, he got to her. Inumaki tried to say something before he could reach them, but it was too late because by the time he opened his mouth, Sukuna opened his domain.

“Domain Expansion. Malevolent Shrine.”

Everything was shrouded in black. Then the piles of bones surrounded him, leaving him on top of the throne of the fossils left behind from his victims, sitting like he was a king. He was, in terms.

(Y/N) stared up at Sukuna with terror in her expression, stumbling backwards until she fell onto her knees. “No… No… What’s going on?” she looked down at her palms shaking, her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to level herself.

That didn’t work. She was left freaking out. Who wouldn’t be? This was guaranteed death. She was facing her end. And it was all because she was too weak. There was no way she would come out of this. She was facing the top of the food chain in regards to power. But, why?

“You have something of mine,” as if answering her question, he declared that out loud. His fingers pressing into the side of his forehead as he observed her with amusement. The robes he was wearing shifted when he began to stand, scaling down the mountain using all the skulls as stairs.

(Y/N) knew what he was talking about once he said it, putting her right hand over her left to cover the finger she kept. They had stitched it onto her body a long time ago. It was cruel attempt at keeping it safe. But, it worked. Until now.

He chuckled, “You can’t seriously be wanting to keep that thing on you forever, (Y/N)?” Using the last bits of bones to dismount off of the pile onto the ground. He was leveled with her. Sukuna was in front of her.

She heard of him millions of times, especially since she was the keeper of one of his fingers, but she always liked to think of it as some stupid horror story. Forgetting how real it was made this ten times harder for her to swallow. It was worse when she became friends with Itadori considering how sweet he was. The growing crush on him was beyond terrifying. Exactly for this reason. Wait, what was the reason for him being here?

He knelt down, gripping her chin with two fingers, his sharp nails poking underneath her jaw while tilting her head to make her look him in the eyes. Glaring down at her with that same crooked smile, he muttered out a question, “You like having my power, hm?”

The panicking girl didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t have one, really. It was a yes, possibly. But, at the same time, she knew who it came from. And seeing him here didn’t convince her to want it anymore. He couldn’t have it though. No way in hell was she going to hand it over.

Sukuna seemed to pick up on this because he started to gradually laugh louder and louder, his eyes widening along with the the second pair on his cheeks. (Y/N) watched him, paralyzed out of fear, and shook when he cackled out, “You know what?! I’m feeling in a generous mood today! Itadori, you watching this?”

It looked like he was shouting at no one. But, she knew that the original boy that she was friends with was witnessing everything and that made her sick to her stomach. Sick at what this monster could do to him.

Then without hesitation, as if he got his answer, her hand was raised into the air and she wasn’t able to pull it away. Sukuna bit off the entire tip of the finger that was already connected to her nerves, making her scream at the top of her lungs, and writhe in agony.

He swallowed the chunk and slammed a palm onto her head, pushing her down into the concrete of his domain as it felt like knives sliced across her thighs and arms. “What were you doing with Inumaki?” his voiced lowered while asking.

That was confusing more than anything to hear. Why would he ask that? Why was he concerned about that? So many questions flew through her head but she had to respond, his impatience was obviously short from how hard he was gripping her. She choked on her sentence, managing to piece it together, “He was teaching me how to control cursed energy better. I passed out from trying too hard…”

A hum vibrated out of his throat, his hand no longer crushing her head in while he laughed manically for another moment. “Ohoho, that’s gotta be the best thing I’ve heard all my years alive! And to think, the kid was so worried about you, he was breaking his own soul!”

Whatever Sukuna was talking about, it was hard for her to understand. Hell, she couldn’t make sense of it even after he had that fit with himself. Instead, she was left to deal with the confusion as the cursed man moved forward with what else he had planned.

Each piece of her clothing was cut off of her, shredded onto the floor, and leaving (Y/N) naked. She couldn’t even feel it happening. It was the cold that made her get what he was doing.

But, there was nothing for her to attempt. She would die if she refused. And what he said, it was right. He was feeling in a good mood if this is what he was deciding to do to her. She’s heard of the torture he’s committed, the massacres, what he was doing was simply nothing compared to the rest. And Itadori. If he was witnessing her being raped and it was by his body, it would be horrible for him after it’s over.

(Y/N) had to save Yuji. So, as Sukuna dug his nails into her hips and stripped his robes off, she let out one last request, “Can it please be Itadori first if you’re going to do this? Please…” He stopped what he was doing automatically.

The King of Curses ended up thinking about it despite the brutal urge he had to destroy them mentally, hearing the shocked voice of the trapped boy wondering what she just suggested.

He had to admit. It was amusing to see the guy in such a state. Snickering, he obliged and said his last words before letting him take back control, “For now, I will. This comes with a price. I hope you know that, (Y/N)”

Itadori gasped when he slipped back into his own body, looking down at her and coming face-to-face with his naked crush’s back. A huge blush swept across his cheeks and he stuttered in surprise and panic, “He let me? H-He hurt… He killed Megumi’s shikigami’s… He.. did this to you.. I did this. I let him. I wasn’t-“

Before he could spiral further, she reached up to him and turned to face toward his chest, pressing her lips on his. He needed to stop thinking if he was going to succeed. She couldn’t afford much more time with him, they were on a limit.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and she parted from him to encourage, “Do it. Just fuck me, Itadori. Don’t think about anything. I want you to be the one, not him.” That was enough for him to listen.

Positioning himself awkwardly, he pressed against her folds to prepare her and himself. There was so much to worry about and so much for him to do. But, here he was, having sex with the one girl he’d been fantasizing about for weeks. Yeah, it was great having her like this. What about Inumaki? Everyone? What could he do?

Itadori finally got to pushing himself inside, his pupils wide, and his jaw hanging open as he panted out a couple of noises. It was the best feeling he’s ever had. Warm and fit perfectly around him. Just like he thought it would. But better.

He criticized himself in his thoughts, ‘You shouldn’t be enjoying this.’ He tried to put himself down over and over. But, it was ignored by a thrust. And then another. And another. Until he was at a pace that made both of them stuck in the act. Her hands wrapped around his neck, matching her legs as she gave up.

Her body felt like it was going limp, loosely hanging on as her (E/C) eyes were looking up at him in a daze. The aggression in him instinctively increased and before he processed what he was doing, he was pouring every emotion he had into ramming her. She stuttered out moans from the impact each time, her nails finding themselves latching into his back, and clawing down slowly; blood trailing right behind.

There was twinges of pain because of how careless he was becoming and that rage seemed to only be getting worse. She summed it up to him venting out what he could considering they were both in an impossible situation. But, when he leaned forward to the crook of her neck, she heard the rasp of the voice she was dreading to hear, “Time’s up.”

Once they switched, (Y/N) noticed the difference immediately between the two of them. His hand shot to her neck and he dragged his black nails against it, teasing her by softly squeezing at first. Even though that squeeze was still tight enough to make her choke.

Sukuna used his teeth to rip into her shoulder, biting deep into her skin until blood was rushing down the crevices of her chest. She let out a piercing scream that started to crack underneath the pressure of his palm.

He was ruthless. There was no time to adjust to the strength he exerted, only time to cry. She couldn’t see what he was doing to her, but she felt it. And it was so intense that her legs went numb. The sounds of his hips colliding with hers was a loud and sharp slap. Red marks were left on the inner corners of her thighs and exactly where he was aiming all of his force.

When he pulled away from attacking her left side, half of it was covered in a sea of red, all from the amount of times he had sunk his canines in. Pleasure tried to ease the ache for you, it never succeeded because of his cruel treatment.

Any time she moaned, another slice from his technique would cut at her body. And despite her losing so much blood, she was still awake. Hanging on by a thread. That thread being Itadori. She could see a mix of displeasure, sadness, anger, satisfaction, and pure insanity all within the red eyes that took place over his honey brown ones. She really missed that color.

Her eyes were starting to close no matter what after a couple of minutes trying to fight the response to his abuse. But, before they shut, a sound of multiple footsteps stumbling in the domain made her snap her head toward them.

Inumaki, Nobara, and Megumi were looking back at her in devastation. Her pupils shrunk, eyes went wide, and she shrieked out to them, “NO! GET OUT-“

Not even a second thought to it, (Y/N) released her technique, ‘Barrier’, and both Nobara and Inumaki were protected from Sukuna. Except for Megumi. She didn’t have enough in her. He instantly got slashed across the chest, staining his navy black uniform with red, and causing him to fall back.

Megumi Fushiguro was the first put in critical condition.

The skewered girl cried as she was picked up by her hair off of the ground and slammed onto a manifested desk of what resembled flesh. She was stuck staring at her two classmates, exposed and defiled.

Nobara shouted at the top of her lungs, “You sick evil bastard! Let go of her or I’ll shove nails into-” She couldn’t finish before she was incapacitated by his technique. The worst cut being the one on her arm, almost severing it in half and leaving her to grab at it to make sure it didn’t.

Nobara Kugisaki was the second.

(Y/N) tried to plead at Sukuna, hoping that anything she said would convince him to stop, “YOU CAN HAVE ME! NOT THEM! DON’T KILL THEM! PLEASE!”

His narrow sadistic eyes flickered from Inumaki to her back, swiping a tongue across his lips as he chuckled darkly, “What? You want me to save your little boyfriend?” By the sound of that, it was like he was jealous. But, what she was hearing wasn’t correct. She had no relationship with Inumaki and how was he jealous?

Using that, she corrected him, deciding that sparing time with conversation was the route to go, “I have no feelings for Toge… Why are you suggesting it?” Grunts spilled in the middle of her sentence but she was heard.

And he answered with a bloodthirsty grin, “Word got around. Being cuddled up next to someone in broad daylight isn’t friendly, is it?” It was hard to respond with him continuing to fuck her, especially when it was directly in front of Inumaki and Nobara. The shame she was experiencing was like no other and she could no longer look up at their faces.

So, she ended up sobbing by the time she could let it out, “That wasn’t! Anything! I just fell asleep! I JUST FELL ASLEEP!” Her cries grew louder and more desperate, the cursed speech user feeling the exact same way as he ran for them. He couldn’t just watch her die like this. He couldn’t.

Pulling down the neck cover he had, (Y/N) shook her head at the sight of Toge and panicked. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t shut her eyes and watched the white-haired boy shout out a command, “ESCAPE!”

Instantly, she was lifted from Sukuna’s grasp into the air by an invisible force, looking down in surprise at Megumi and Nobara following with. She wished she hadn’t though as she witnessed Inumaki sputtering out blood and collapsing to the ground, limp. That terrible grin never left his face as he glanced up at them being sent out of his domain, winking at (Y/N) like he was telling her, ‘See you later.’

Toge Inumaki was the last.

When everyone made it outside and onto the grass, all of the Jujutsu Sorceror’s were working on getting Sukuna under control again. Gojo being the one to relocate the students to aid while forcing his way into the domain that vanished seconds later.

She won’t ever forget the look on Itadori’s face, covered in her blood, and the disgust in his eyes the moment he locked them with hers. His hands were resting on his lap in front of him and thankfully, his clothes were back to the way they should be. But, it was like the spark in his soul faded. She understood that what Sukuna had planned, worked. From then on, they both were never going to forget what happened.

Yuji Itadori will cease all contact with (Y/N) (L/N).

#Spotify #yuji itadori x reader #sukuna x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori smut #sukuna smut #smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #angst #yuji itadori angst

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lapinparka · 7 months

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One of the things I really love about Neku is how I feel he's written as person first and a playable character second.

This is obviously clear in the beginning, where a lot of his actions or thoughts will end up frustrating the player, or outright making them hate him. But I think it comes back at the end too, during the final duel, at the point where his development has made a lot of people forget the kind of person he was at the start.

There's a lot of cases where people don't understand why Neku lowers the gun, or complain about him doing it. I've actually seen instances of people either mad that he doesn't shoot, try to rationalise it by believing his final entry fee is the bullets in his gun (despite this contradicting the outcome of the scene), or at one point, in the comments of a YouTube video, claim that the scene should've had two choices, which allows the player to pick whether he pulls the trigger or not.

These kind of reactions fundamentally miss the fact that Neku is not the player. He is not a self-insert character. There are points in the game when he is conflicted, where you can choose between two things and he'll do either - but when he's truly set on something, there's nothing you can do to make him stray from that path. He won't abandon Sota. He won't join Megumi. And he won't shoot Joshua. You're not even given a choice in the last situation, because it was never about you.

Many other games would have the option to shoot, and moreover, would have the choice to lower the gun result in the Bad Ending. This is why people are fine with him aiding Sota or turning down Megumi - because those are the classically "heroic" options. Choosing one boy over a city of people - the same boy who just revealed he caused Neku's death - is not generically, universally relatable, or feel good, and the scene itself reflects this too. It's sombre, painful, accompanied by tears. It's Neku making a choice that he believes will result in Shibuya's destruction, a choice the average player absolutely would not make, and that's what causes the confusion or anger. It also really serves to reinforce how Neku understands Joshua in a way both people in Joshua's own life and people watching him through the screen don't.

Neku will connect with people you dislike. Neku will make choices you disapprove of. Neku won't shoot Joshua, ever. The game itself asks you to try and understand why he does this, like Neku himself tries to understand those around him, but some players just won't make that effort.

Neku is such a good character because you can relate to him, you can try to understand him, but he isn't and will never be you.

#twewy #neku sakuraba #meta #i found this 95% complete in my drafts so....

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mxtxfanatic · 4 months

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Hua Cheng and He Xuan: The Would-Be Gods

Jun Wu continued, “To become a ‘Supreme’, one must have experienced an unimaginable suffering and pain. One either ascends from such calamities or are doomed to the depths of hell, never to return. The two Supreme Demon Kings that emerged from Mount TongLu, Black Water and Hua Cheng, are both far more terrifying than you think.”

—Chapt. 56: In Search of the Past; Retracing Steps to Mount TaiCang (Part One)

This quote is interesting in how it links being a Supreme inseparably from being a god, but what I find most fascinating is what Jun Wu doesn’t/can’t mention: that Supremes are a direct result of the corruption of the heavens.

Both Hua Cheng and He Xuan had their path to godhood snatched by the corruption of the heavens, but their trajectory is almost completely oppositional. Both had earned godhood for their actions fighting evil in defense of the weak. Hua Cheng gave up an eye to forge his weapon in order to save a group of stray humans who had wandered into the kiln, whereas He Xuan fought his way into the homes of the corrupt gentry who had terrorized his hometown and died after killing every last evildoer. But instead of ascending, as was their right, He Xuan has his godhood stolen by Shi Wudu under the eyes of the Heavenly Emperor, and Hua Cheng summarily rejects his ascension due to having previously witnessed the mistreatment of Xie Lian by multiple heavenly officials. Because their paths to the heavens were tainted, the two Supremes were “doomed to the depths of hell,” instead, ironically creating domains that ran much more fairly than the heavens they rejected/were rejected from.

At the same time, the crown prince of Wuyong ascends as a powerful god before falling to the machinations of the other gods and descending into White No-Face. However, where the previous two Supremes ultimately rejected the heavens of their own wills and accepted themselves as demon kings, White No-Face still wanted the power and adoration of being a god. Thus, Jun Wu ends up corrupting the heavens into a place that harbors and encourages evil in direct contrast to the domains of the Supremes serving as refuges.

#human metas mxtx #tgcf #something something the aesthetics of goodness =\= moral goodness #‘all the good girls go to hell’ billie was so right #this is also why it’s very important that qi rong is not a real supreme #qi rong was never anywhere near god material #how could he be anywhere near the level of a supreme?#this is for you anon who asked for a he xuan/hua cheng meta #at least i think you did #it’s really just been sitting here for months

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starlettechild · 3 months

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Might I request Raphael (pining for Tav but unsure of Tav's thoughts on him) reacting to Tav, while visiting the House of Hope, taking what would have been a fatal hit from an assassin that was meant to end the cambion's life - Tav either pushes him out of the way or shields him with their own body. What is going through the fiend's mind and what does he do? (if you decide to do this prompt, please allow Tav to ultimately be okay despite definitively being dead weight/in critical condition at first... I love angst but can't handle sad endings 🥲)

Anon, I love this idea! This is so perfect and tragic. Thank you for this amazing request!

“𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶. 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻. 𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓪 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓷𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓮.” - Raphael

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥ ◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

CONTENT: Raphael x Tav. Following the amazing requesters plot that is above! Tav takes a deadly hit for Raphael.

⚠️TWs⚠️: Injuries and blood, angst with a good ending. Raphael gets very angry and loses his shit. They/Them pronouns are used to prevent character dysphoria.

NOTE: Thank you all for the amazing requests! I’m going to get to all of them as soon as I can!

Raphael can sense his mouse in his home. Their steps feel like the lightest touches in the warded place. The irresistible pull he felt towards them is what brought him here. How could one resist, when they feel the one who plagues their dreams and waking hours in their own home? He sits with them now, eyes intently searching for any sign of returned longing in their eyes. He would let them know just how deeply they resided in his heart at the softening of their gaze, the feign in him be damned. The two sit, porcelain glasses in hand as they discuss the matter of the hammer and freeing Orpheus. He can sense the uncertainty in their voice, and it makes his skin crawl to know such matters plague their mind. He begins to wonder if he even is doing all of this for the crown, and it’s that thought that keeps him up the most.

They bring the glass to their lips and set it down carefully, turning their head from him and stopping mid-sentence. He can feel the edges of disturbance in his home, carefully sticking to the shadows, only the slightest tremor of a presence that has them both staring off to where they believe it was. But before Raphael can even act, the time only allowing for his glass to shatter against the floor, the whizz of an arrow sounds out, aimed towards his hellish heart. His mouse has always been quicker than he. They’ve always been more prepared to take action, where Raphael prowls slowly and circles his prey, Tav devours it before whoever it is can even rear its head at them. Perhaps that is why they are up before them, standing in all their glory in the path of the arrow before him. The sharp edge of it nestling itself in the center of their chest, piercing the beating heart that Raphael so desperately wants to feel beat for him. Time slows, and he watches as his mouse collides with the ground beneath them, a red pool beginning to form beneath them.

Something takes over every inch of him then. Something beyond rage and pain that reaches its claws out, engulfing the entire living room in flames. The fire surrounds the assassins in a burning spiral, furniture and paintings setting aflame themselves at the intensity of the burn. There is little direction to Raphael’s anger, but it has a goal. To destroy the ones who hurt his mouse, revenge on behalf of his own endangerment forgotten. His hurried steps walk through his own flame, edges of the doublet burning, and he doesn’t stop before he stands before the pair who entered his home uninvited, the crossbow abandoned on the floor, the flames consuming it.

Raphael can feel nothing but the anger that burns in him as he reaches out to tear these intruders apart. These pieces of worthless scum. They don’t deserve his blood, and never will they deserve the blood of his mouse.

“You will not take them. Not today, not ever. And I will fill the hells with souls who lay a harming finger on them with no remorse.” The words leave him, ripped from his heart and forged with the truth. His hands make quick work of the pair, and he doesn’t feel any remorse. Only satisfaction. Only the pride of eliminating those who think they are good enough to aim for him and watch his mouse take the hit instead.

The flames do not die down with their deaths. His pounding mind points him in the direction of where his mouse lies, their hands settling over their chest where the arrow pierces through them. They are moving. Alive, on the edges of death. But Raphael would not even let death take them from him. He rushes over, hands still dirtied with the blood of the assassins, and he kneels at their side. He’s never been a healer. He has never needed to heal. But now, every ounce of magic is called upon within him, poured into the body of Tav whose heart pounds slower with each second. Everything he has is poured into them. Each unspoken word of longing and devotion. He hopes it is enough.

He cradles their head in his arms as the blue glow encases their body, running his hand through their hair as a plea for them to keep breathing. To stay alive so he may see them another day. To stay with him. They stir beneath him, a slow exhale and inhale leaves their lips as their eyes stare up at him. Slowly, they lift a hand to touch his face.

Raphael hasn’t cried in centuries. Not since he was born and gasping for air. But now, he does. Tears leave his eyes and roll down his cheeks as he stares at them. With each landing they make on their loved features, he feels the grasp of death loosen around them, replaced by his. Their hand runs down his face, wiping the tears away slowly, a soft smile on their face, the blood fading beneath them. Their hand slips away from his face, beginning to pull at the arrow lodged in their chest. Raphael shudders with pure relief, the flames only begin to die down when his mouse moves. Perhaps this place would burn for eternity, if his mouse did not move again. Perhaps he’d burn with it.

With the arrow tossed to the ground, and the healing magic settling itself within their bones, they lift themselves from the ground, blood still staining their clothes. He helps them up, with a gentleness he never thought he could have. Folding his hand over theirs. When they stand, he finds himself bringing them into an embrace. He finds them embracing him back.

His savior, his mouse. The one he would burn the world twice for. His love.

“Thank the hells.” He whispers into their hair, and he can feel them weakly laugh. The smell of ash in the air, as the fires still completely, embers dancing in the still air.

“I love you.” Tav says, peeling their head from his chest, staring up at him before those wonderful eyes close, fainting from exhaustion in his arms. “I love you.” He says back, and the words leave him as a sob. A quiet confession against their resting form, as he carries them through the burnt boudoir, vowing to not leave their side until they grow tired of his presence, which he hopes they never do.

As he passes, he eyes the bodies of the assassins. Raphael will find who sent them, and he will make them pay for this. And he is sure his mouse will join him in the act, two unstoppable lovers who stand in the path of death for one another.

#bg3 writing #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 angst #raphael angst #raphael baldurs gate 3

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mecchantheotaku · 5 months

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Slay The Princess: The Damsel and Simplicity

SPOILER WARNING - This is my personal take on the Damsel. Enjoy. Or not.

i see a lot of people criticising or backhandedly complimenting the damsel's route because they looked very heavily into it, but in my opinion i think the fact that they looked so heavily into it is what caused these criticisms in the first place. and that's likely intentional.

the route is a lot less weird if you rescue her without asking questions and don't listen to the narrator, the only really weird bit being right at the end where her simple and joyful nature clashes harshly with the complicated nature of the story as a whole.

because the damsel's character, as a whole, is... simple. a dainty princess waiting to be rescued by her heroic knight in shining armour. if it wasn't for the shifting mound taking her at the end, this would have been a simple "hero saved princess and they lived happily ever after" tale.

however, if you ask her too many questions, that's when it gets weird. you ask her all these questions because you want more than what her character is and it feels weird that she really is as simple as she appears. continuously asking her what she wants causes her to deconstruct even when there's nothing left to see.

and if you kill her, the idealised fairytale takes a dark turn, but even as the grey, her motives are still simple. she's convinced that the cabin drives you to kill her, so she sets it ablaze, taking you with it so you can join her in death. all still with a simple smile on her face.

both of these more unnerving possibilities are the result of you being unsatisfied with her simplicity. and for a lot of people, that's understandable. but for those that embrace her simplicity, it's a heartwarming tale of rescuing a princess (up until the very end that is, which is fitting for the game as a whole, especially if this is your first path).

don't believe me? ask the shifting mound during the fight regarding the two different versions of the damsel vessel.

here's what she says about the deconstructed damsel:

"Love melted into skepticism, and you pulled back layer after layer after layer until all you were left with was the knowledge that you did not know me. You sought the truth then. Will you hide from it now that it is within your grasp?"

now here's what she says about the regular damsel:

"But the stakes meant nothing to you. You had a desire, and you set that desire free, you lifting me and me lifting you, forever and ever and ever. Consumed by true belief, there was nothing that could hold us back."

it can be that simple and heartwarming... if you want it to be. if you don't want that, you get a shell or a shadow of what it could have been.

the voice of the smitten reflects this as well. he is also a simple character. he is motivated by one thing and one thing alone: love. even when presented with the weird parts of the damsel should you choose to explore, he loves her in spite of that. warts and all.

and should you kill her and intentionally make the story dark, he has nothing left to live for and goes mad with grief, putting his simple desires under a dark light. (i will admit the burned grey was painful to go through because of this, seeing such a simple and optimistic character transform like that from sheer sorrow)

in a way, i would say that the damsel and the voice of the smitten are perfect for each other. a bit weird to everyone else, but to each other, nothing but pure and simple happiness.

and if you don't like that? of course you wouldn't like either of those characters. because you want more than that. most people want more than that. i'm personally fine either way.

but yeah, that's my take on the damsel (and by extension the voice of the smitten). a simple character. nothing more. will you embrace her simplicity, try to tear her down to the bone, or twist it into something horrifying?

either way, there are no wrong answers. and that's why i like this route. and this game.

#slay the princess #slay the princess spoilers #the damsel #i feel like a lot of people are going to hate me for this lmao #but fuck it might as well weed them out

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h8ani · 6 months

Text

Pairing - Manjiro Sano x Reader

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - fem!reader, alcohol consumption, reader copes in different ways, mentions of sex, no smut

Ignoring everything that's going on around you was a skill you didn't know you possessed until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It was still the same person that always stood there except there was no light behind your eyes. Eyes darker, dark circles more prominent and you could even tell there were some physical changes to your body. You were able to ignore life and all of the issues that were swarming around like a pesky fly that kept buzzing near your ear. You couldn't see it but you knew of its presence.

Turning off your emotions was a natural defense against overloading yourself with the pain and suffering one has to deal with, you once read. It was second nature not to feel anything anymore, you've done it for so long you can't fathom to feel the emotions you once did.

Some people like to read to ignore their problems — traveling to another universe and live a life they wish they led, others like to drink their issues away or even taking pills; not remembering what transpired the night before and swallowing down the substance to send them over the edge of euphoria, body feeling higher than their mind could ever go and not having a proper thought in their head, you — you'd rather let others consume your mind and body, allowing the alcohol in your system to cloud your proper judgment as you allow others to use your body as they wish. Because at the end of the day, you didn't want to deal with what life was like.

It was a routine for you — every time life got too much or if you felt like the world was drowning you from every angle and orifice, sex was the distraction. At first, it was with just anybody that would look your way in a random bar, any poor soul that would fall for the trap you beautifully laid out for them, you felt bad in all honesty. The ones who wanted more from you but could never get it, how could they? You were a shell of a human walking around and snatching up anybody that would come your way. Some would try and see you again, eventually wanting to date but that wasn't what you wanted, far from it.

Your routine was set, no reason to break the habit of drinking to lower your inhibitions. Yet here you were tangled in his bedsheets and breaking every rule you had set for yourself.

Downing another shot, the cold liquid burns down your throat, a comforting feeling really. A smile crept on your face as you already knew what the outcome of tonight would bring. The bartender brings your second shot that you had ordered, the clinking of the glass on the counter being drowned out by the music that was playing around you. You bring the shot up to your lips and knock it back, the burn less significant this time.

Arms snake around your waist while pulling you back against his chest. "Slow down a bit, we have all night." His voice rings lowly in your ear. Your smile grows bigger as you turn in his arms.

"All night hmm?" You giggle as you take in his features.

Mikey was the one who you so helplessly broke your routine for. The exception. He was a friend, an acquaintance really as you two weren't necessarily close, but calling him a friend makes everything easier. He was kind but closed off, as were you although he seemed to be hiding his indifference with the world much better than you were. You had known him for the better part of a year, maybe a little longer, paths always crossing with one another yet nothing ever escalated with either one of you. You knew him and he knew you and that was that.

Once you started hooking up with Mikey everything had gotten easier, no need to try and find someone to numb you from the pain that's called life. The world around you still sucked but you had somebody to distract you from that. It was the right place at the right time when you both eventually hooked up for the first time, alcohol obviously involved and no words needing to be said other than "your place or mine?"

It's easy with him. No feelings, no complications, just sex.

He leans down and kisses you, lips pressed together while his tongue teased your own. He was never one to care about who's around. You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you pulled away. "Let's take a shot."

"You want another?" His eyebrows raise while you nod and smile happily knowing he couldn't say no, not to you. He rolls his eyes before looking back down to you. "You're spoiled."

"You're the one spoiling me."

"So you don't want a drink?" He quickly rebuts, eyebrows raising and a smile showing once he sees the pout on your face.

Your arms wrap around his neck while you pull him closer. "I'm sorry."

"How sorry?"

"Very sorry." You lean up and peck his lips. "So sorry that I can't wait to show you how sorry I am later tonight." You could feel the rumble of his chest against yours as he groans, head tipping back before looking at you again.

"Let's get you that shot."

“Shit.” You giggle, tripping into his bedroom. His hand reaches for your waist as he guides you to the bed.

His room is always fairly clean aside from the stray shoes you happened to stumble over. The scent of his cologne wafts through your senses as you lean back against his bed to look at him, a smile gracing your face although Mikey’s expression is solemn. “I told you to slow it down with the shots.” He lifts you up effortlessly onto his bed, the sheets cool against your warm skin causing goosebumps to show. His hands slid from your waist down to your leg until they were resting on your heel, unstrapping the intricate lock that was placed on the back of the shoe.

A pout forms on your face as he finally takes your heel off, letting it fall onto the floor. “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything.” He lets your leg down and taps on the other, a silent que to give him your other foot. You do as he motions and allow him to take off your other heel. As you watch him you notice his furrowed eyebrows showing nothing but frustration.

His emotions never slip out enough to where you’re able to see it, Mikey is good at that — something you wished you could do, although seeing him slip right now turned something in your stomach that you didn’t quite know. Why is he frustrated?

“Are you mad at me?” You ask with a quiet voice. He looks up at you once your heel is off your foot and back on the floor with the other, his eyes soften once seeing you wary. His voice was calm and there was a slight smile showing although you aren’t sure if it was forced or not.

“Course not,” he says as he opens up his dresser that was beside his bed. He pulls out the first shirt and pair of sweats he sees before tossing them beside you. “Hop down for me.” His hands reach and find a place on your waist before helping you settle back down to your feet and turning you around. You allow him to move you as he wishes, making it easier for him to unzip your dress. The dress slides off your body until it’s pooling around your ankles, you kick the dress to your shoes before grabbing the clothes he had on his bed.

You always liked wearing his clothes; the smell, the warmth it brought you, the comfort. Even being in his room brought you a subtle calmness to the mess of your life that you appreciated. You were at peace here, with him.

Once you’re in his clothes you turn to see Mikey, his shirt has already been discarded and he has already changed into a pair of basketball shorts that hang lowly on his hips. You couldn’t help your eyes as they took him in, everything about him seemed so perfect from an outside perspective.

His hands gripped your sides as he lifted you back up on the bed allowing you to crawl to your side and fall against his pillows.

Mikey watches you as you lay down getting comfortable in his bed. It was something about the way you both have designated sides in his bed that turns something in his stomach he never really understood. It was just sex, that’s what it’s always been and he was perfectly okay with that. It was easy and no bullshit complications came from that but the clouded look in your eyes he always sees makes him wish he could see you more, not just drunken nights or days.

As he gets into bed you’re already cuddling up to him, arms wrapping around his waist holding him close. You let your eyes flutter shut as you melt into his warmth. He sighs out, contently in your ears but to him he was torn.

You feel his hand tuck under your chin, tilting your head up to him.

Just like clockwork.

His lips meet yours and just like the same routine your body seems to move and react on its own, knowing your schedule better than you do.

You get lost in the kiss, head spinning and body tingling where his hands roam your body. His arm slides under you easily moving you to your back, lips never once leaving each other. His hands reach yours, fingers intertwining and pressed firmly on each side of your head. Mikey slowly pulls away, making you chase his lips until he leans back further to look at you. You’re confused, expression distorting and making your confusion evident. He stares down at you and sighs out. “Kinda sucks that I can only have you like this.” He confesses, grip on your hands tightening as if you were going to run away from him at this very moment.

You wanted to.

The words he said were circling in your head, you were trying to process what he meant as fast as you could. Mikey saw the frustration building within you and shook his head, leaning back down to capture your lips in his to make you forget.

No point in breaking something that’s already broken.

@bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network

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peterman-spideyparker · 3 months

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my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 2/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This part is pure angst. Very sad. I made Matt cry. Twice (one off page and one on page). I'm sorry.

Summary: You find out a secret about Matt after getting involved in something you had no idea he was a part of. And even though you're confused and scared, you know that you'd do anything for Matt, especially if it means he might have a shot at a happy ending without you.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, canon-typical violence, vague wound descriptions, swords, season two finale happenings, canon death

Other Characters: Elektra Natchios, Nobu

Word Count: 889

When you come to, your head is pounding, and you’re freezing. Why are you so cold? Where are you? Why won’t your eyes focus? You’re . . . you’re outdoors, high above the city, you think. Cars are quiet, distant. You’re not in your neighborhood—the sounds of the night are different. The air feels different.

“We will let her go if the Black Sky comes with us,” a man says, holding you by the collar of your pajamas and shaking you.

“Let (Y/N/N) go now,” you hear a voice say. It’s gruff, harsh, but only one person uses that nickname for you. You blink hard, your eyes finally focusing through the throbbing pain in your head, seeing a woman in black and none other than Daredevil on the other side of the rooftop that you’re on. Daredevil . . . Matt?

Matt’s Daredevil?

Matt's Daredevil.

“Only if we get the Black Sky!” You feel something sharp press against your side, making you cry out in both pain and fear. “If you refuse, there will be blood on both of your hands. Her death will be for nothing.”

“Nobu!” Matt growls. “I’m only going to say it one more time—!”

“I’ll do it!” the woman says. “I’ll come with you. Just let her go. She’s not involved in any of this.”

Matt’s head whips toward her, and he takes her hand, speaking softly. Maybe he’s not speaking softly, but focusing on anything through the pain in your head is unbearable. You’re yanked to your feet before you’re gruffly guided across the roof, watching as the woman approaches. The same woman that was with him at the party. The woman he dated in law school. Elektra. You stumble as you’re shoved forward, the grip gone from your clothes, and you carefully cross paths with the her and move toward Matt. When you get close enough to Matt, his hands are on you and all over, trying to assess you for injuries.

“Are you okay?” he breathes, his voice emotional as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“‘M fine,” you pant, giving his forearms a squeeze.

“Good. Now go. Hide.”

“Matt—.”

“Now’s not the time,” he growls. “Go. I’m not letting either of you get hurt tonight.”

You breathe an “okay" before you stumble behind him, trying to find a way out that isn’t covered by ninjas. What the hell have you gotten yourself involved in, Matty? You opt to hide behind an air conditioning unit, carefully peaking out and watching a fight break out amongst Matt, Elektra, and the ninjas. She must have double crossed them—they wouldn’t be acting that way otherwise. They start to move closer where you hide, and you work to try and clandestinely move toward the stairwell, simultaneously (and unfortunately) getting closer to the action. You freeze in place as you watch how Matt and Elektra fight; it’s effortless, the way that they move in sync, not faltering. Perfect together.

Matt gets yanked away, and you have to prevent yourself from shouting in fear. The movement, though, leaves Elektra vulnerable to a sword coming her way. Without thinking, you jump from your spot to push her to safety, taking the wound that was meant for her. You cry out in pain, the sound echoing loudly in the night. The sword slides out of your abdomen, making all your senses go fuzzy, and you hear a stop in the fighting on the rooftop before it picks up again. As you sink to your knees, you see Elektra ruthlessly attack the ninjas around you, and a pair of warm, familiar arms hold onto you before you hit the ground. Matt’s devil helmet is off, his hair sticking up at odd angles and covered in sweat as his beautiful hazel eyes sparkle with tears.

“No,” you breathe. “‘M fine. Help Elektra. Go.”

“(Y/N/N), you’re hurt, I’m not—.”

“She needs you.”

“But I need you.”

You cough, pain shooting through your body and something trickling out of your mouth. “We’re not arguing about this now. Go, Matty. Please.”

Reluctantly, he lets you go, gingerly laying you down away from the action before rejoining the fight. It’s hard to tell what’s going on, who is winning the battle as your vision gets spotty and unfocused. You’re not really sure what happens or for how long it happens, but it’s suddenly very quiet, and Matt’s strong arms cradle you once more.

“Hey, hey, shh. It’s okay, angel,” he whispers. “It’s just me. It’s Matt.” You can only groan in pain. “Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?”

You oblige, although slowly. You’re just so tired, and your eyelids feel so heavy.

“Hi,” you croak.

“Hi, angel. It’s over now. We’ll get you the help that you need.”

“Time’s up, Matty,” you murmur. “M’bell’s rung.”

“No, no it hasn’t. We can make this better, I promise,” he sniffles.

“S’for the best.”

“I’m not letting you go. Not this time.”

“Never . . . thought I’d see you again.”

“Just hang on. Hang on for me, (Y/N/N).”

“Matty,” you murmur, the sounds barely making sense. You swallow hard, using everything in you to lift your hand to his sweaty face, wiping away his tears. “Matty . . . I don’t want the last thing I see is you crying.” As your fingertips leave his skin, your vision goes black.

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trashpandato · 1 year

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Lunge and Parry

Just a short little thing that was inspired by this Tweet

---

Lena is thrilled. Thrilled and sweaty.

She hasn’t had to be on her toes this much against an opponent in a long time and she’s enjoying every second of it. It’s not a big surprise; this is the championship bout after all, so the woman currently advancing on her would have had to win against top notch fencers in the tournament to get to this point.

Lena isn’t very familiar with her. Kara Danvers is her name and as far as Lena knows, she hasn’t been fencing competitively for very long, or else their paths would surely have crossed a few times already. The world of fencing is small, and even smaller once you get to the level where they are at, competing for one of the few remaining spots on the Olympic fencing team.

Either way, Lena isn’t about to let some newbie beat her. She’s worked too hard for this, and Lillian likes to remind her of that every chance she gets, like now, when she yells at Lena from the sidelines while Lena works to parry Kara’s current attack.

“That was pathetic,” she hears her mother scoff. “I’ve paid your coaches thousands of dollars and this is the best you can manage?”

Lena tries to tune her out as she bounces backwards on her feet. Kara’s fencing style is aggressive. It’s effective, the score is close, but Lena sees that Kara is a little bit reckless at times, and she’s been scoring points off defensive moves more than she usually does in her bouts.

It works. She’s up 12-9 and there are less than 30 seconds left. Lena figures she can goad Kara into one or two more lunges and either avoid contact or score her own points off a defensive thrust. It’s an uphill battle for her opponent, and Kara is likely to go all in on her offense in an attempt to even up the score.

It’s a solid strategy, defend her lead and win. But then, as she takes a quick step back in the wake of Kara lunging at her, Lena’s right knee buckles. She hears a pop and loses her balance. As soon as her back hits the piste, Lena feels excruciating pain shoot up her leg, and she knows immediately that it’s bad.

Then a few things happen all at once. Lena focusses on her breathing and on trying to muffle the sounds she is making. She doesn’t want to cry, not here, not in front of everyone, but the pain in her leg is beyond anything she’s ever felt before, and she can’t help but let out small whimpers as she tries to roll onto her side. Then, her coach is there, helping her pull her helmet off. He is asking her questions that barely register, and Lena tries to hold in a yelp when he touches her leg. But the thing that captures most of her attention is her opponent, Kara, who is kneeling down next to her with a deeply concerned frown on her face.

“Get up,” Lillian hisses from somewhere behind Lena. “Luthors aren’t quitters.”

Lena clenches her jaw. She doesn’t really see the point of trying to finish the bout. Even if she is able to get up and stand, she knows she can’t fence properly with her knee in its current state. There are still 20 seconds left and Kara would have no problem scoring enough points to win. If she stays down and forfeits, Kara wins, too. Either way, it’s over for Lena.

“Do you think you can continue?” Her coach asks.

As much as Lena wants to yell no and tell both him and Lillian to fuck off, she knows she’ll never hear the end of it if she gives up now. Lillian is going to spend the next twenty years reminding her that she’s a disgrace to the Luthor name, too weak, too soft. Maybe she can try and hobble on one leg for 20 seconds and maybe, just maybe it’ll be enough.

Lena nods. She’s not sure she can speak at this point, so she sticks to glaring at her mother and shifting around a bit to let her coach hook his arm under her right shoulder to help her up. When she wobbles immediately, Lena feels a second set of hands on her. Her head snaps around and she’s met with a very close-up view of blonde hair, tan skin and vibrant blue eyes.

“Careful,” Kara says as she helps Lena to her feet and lets her lean against her for balance for a few seconds.

It’s only when Kara is sure that Lena can stand on her own that she lets go, and Lena immediately misses how steady her hands felt on her body. They lock eyes and Kara asks:

“You sure you want to finish the bout?”

Lena isn’t sure. She can’t put any of her weight on her right leg at all, and the throbbing pain is so distracting that she completely misses her coach’s instructions for what to do now. But she nods anyway. She doesn’t think she has much of a choice. She’ll try to stay upright and maybe, with some luck, she can stay out of the way of Kara’s attacks long enough to maintain her lead. It’s 20 seconds. All she has to do is get through 20 seconds.

Kara nods back at Lena and then, just before she slips her helmet back on, Lena thinks she spots a small smile on her opponent’s face. Her stomach sinks. Kara isn’t stupid. She’s a talented fencer. She’ll know how to outmaneuver a severely limited Lena with ease to score enough points to win three times over. And that smile on Kara’s face tells Lena all she needs to know. Kara is probably already planning her victory celebration.

Lena sighs, puts her helmet on and hobbles into position. She can barely move. Anytime she jostles her right leg by hopping around on her left, the pain shooting up and down her body makes her feel dizzy. Even just keeping her balance enough to stay upright seems like an impossible challenge.

The referee tells them to get ready and Lena lifts her foil and her chin, and tries to drown out the run-on commentary coming from her mother. She knows she’s going to lose, but she can at least try and keep her pride intact.

“Allez,” the referee tells them and Lena hobbles backwards to put distance between herself and Kara. Her main strategy now is to stay out of her way as much as possible.

Kara, as she has done throughout the bout, bounces on her feet and gets into position to lunge. Lena braces herself for the attack but then Kara simply bounces backwards, toward her end of the piste. Lena is confused. It could very well be a set up for a running attack, one where Kara needs more space to generate momentum, but it’s not something she’s seen Kara do before. Still, she tries to set her feet as much as possible to give herself a chance to dodge whatever move Kara has planned.

But nothing happens. Kara continues to bounce on her feet far away from Lena. Her foil is up and ready but it doesn’t look like she’s going to approach at all. Lena can hear Lillian’s voice, biting and loud as always, but she can’t hear what her mother is saying. She is too focussed on Kara and the fact that she’s not attacking at all.

And then the buzzer signals that time’s up, that the bout is over.

Lena moves towards Kara. She’s on autopilot, hobbling two steps but before she can even reach the middle of the piste to shake her opponent's hand, Kara is there, pulling her into a hug that Lena knows is meant to be congratulatory but ends up feeling more like something else. Kara is a bit taller than her, her shoulders broader, and in that moment, Lena feels cocooned and safe even as her thoughts oscillate between confusion, elation and irritation.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lena snaps.

They’re still hugging and Lena doesn’t intend to let go anytime soon, but the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

She feels more than hears Kara chuckle. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have let me win.”

Lena expects Kara to pull away, to tell her to go fuck herself. It’s what she would do if their roles were reversed. Instead, Kara only hugs her more tightly and even presses a soft kiss to Lena’s forehead before she pulls back a little to look at her.

“You won fair and square,” Kara tells her with a smile on her face before pulling Lena back against her body, one hand gently cradling the back of Lena’s head.

The whole moment feels like an out-of-body experience to Lena. They’re competitors who barely know each other, and here she is in Kara’s arms like they’re best friends. Kara even kissed her fucking forehead. A part of Lena wants to pull away and ask her what the hell her deal is, but something about this moment feels too good to fight it.

So Lena doesn’t.

“Will you let me buy you a drink,” Lena asks and her voice is muffled because her face is still pressed against Kara’s shoulder. “To make it up to you.”

There’s another chuckle and then Kara takes a careful step back but holds Lena up with firm hands on her upper arms.

“Let’s get your knee sorted out first, okay?”

And just like that the spell between them is broken. Lena sees her coach approach her, and somewhere behind him are two EMTs who are pushing a wheelchair towards her. Lillian is there, too, of course, barking instructions at the EMTs to take Lena to Lakeview Hospital, even though that’s on the other side of the city, but Lena knows the Luthors have connections to several surgeons there.

In the flurry of activities around her, Kara disappears out of view as soon as Lena is helped into the wheelchair. Lena is sure she won’t see her again, at least not for a while. Fencing will likely be out of the question for a few months until her injury heals, and that’s pretty much all she knows about Kara, that she is a fencer. As she is pushed out of the building and into the back of the waiting ambulance, the door closes with a loud bang. Lena tries not to cry.

Lillian’s connections and large donations to the hospital mean that Lena heads into surgery that very same evening. Both her ACL and MCL are shot, and while the surgeon manages to repair both, he tells her that recovery will take many months and a lot of hard work. It’s not something Lillian likes to hear.

“She can’t miss that much time. She’ll have to prepare for the Olympics.”

The drugs in Lena’s system allow her to doze off during the argument between her surgeon and Lillian that follows.

When Lena wakes up the following morning, Lillian is gone and Lena is thankful. The nurse tells her that her mother had to take care of some business matters but would return after lunch, and Lena can’t help but hope that Lillian might stay away longer. Her hopes are dashed when she hears a small knock, but when she looks up, it’s not Lillian who is hovering in the doorway.

It’s Kara.

“Hey.”

Kara is holding a large bouquet of flowers and is sporting that same small smile that Lena saw the day before just as they were about to finish their bout.

“You came,” Lena says, her voice still a little drowsy from sleep and the pain medication.

Kara grins and pushes off the doorframe. Lena watches as she comes closer and deposits the flowers into a pitcher of water that’s sitting on the small table next to her bed. She’s pretty sure the water was meant for her to drink, but she feels too mesmerized to say anything to Kara, who is now standing right next to her bed.

“I did. Is that alright?”

Lena’s eyes drift towards where Kara’s hip is leaning against her bed and without thinking, she shifts her hand and reaches out to touch Kara’s, loosely letting her fingers curl around a warm, soft palm.

“More than alright,” Lena manages to say even as her eyelids droop.

Kara laces their fingers together and squeezes.

“You should rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. I need you to be rested and lucid when I ask you for your number later.”

“Mhm,” Lena mumbles, barely awake. “I believe I asked you out first.”

That prompts a proper laugh, a sound that sends pleasant shivers down Lena’s spine.

“You did. You win.”

#supercorp #kara x lena #they're both fencers #and idiots

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gffa · 9 months

Text

Dick sneaks out to chase down a case about missing girls that Batman and Robin have been working on, ending up solving the case and freeing the girls by himself, while Alfred frets with worry about how Dick's putting himself in danger and throwing away his youth on this crusade and how he puts so much on his young shoulders. And now I'm thinking about just how many times I've seen Alfred step in and steer Bruce towards a gentler demeanor when dealing with Dick's determination to go down this path's crusade. How often we talk about Bruce could not have stopped him from it, that Robin was a leash on the kid, rather than putting Dick in harm's way for his own need to fight criminals--but the same is true of Alfred. He watches that kid, he worries about him, he's afraid that Dick is throwing away the years of his youth on this fight and if he'll regret, he never relaxes because he knows Dick's two seconds away from sneaking out to go fight people grown adults who are legitimately trying to kill him. But Alfred also sees the same thing Bruce does--that they're not going to stop someone that determined. And Alfred sees even further than Bruce does sometimes, in that Dick's desperate to prove to Bruce that he can be trusted to do this job, to justify the trust Bruce has placed in him, and that Bruce needs to gentle himself with the kid, even when he's terrified that Dick could have gotten himself hurt. Yeah, Dick put himself in danger without Batman there to watch over him, but he did it for the same reason that Bruce started this path, too. That Bruce didn't put that spark of angry need for justice in that kid, Dick came by that all on his own, the night his parents were murdered, and neither Bruce nor Alfred were pulling him into something that he didn't want, they were instead giving him shape and form to channel that need. Alfred has never liked this choice of theirs, to dress up in costumes and go punch criminals in the face, but he doesn't stand by out of passivity, but instead because he recognizes that Dick was going to do something and this was the best he could do to help shape the kid into something that would survive it. Including stepping in to help him behind Bruce's back or straight up saying, "Yeah, I helped him and you are going to be gentle with him, because that kid is desperately trying to prove himself to you and you're the only stability he has and you of all people should know what he's feeling about needing to help people." Alfred can't force either of them into a life that he would prefer for them, he can only help provide guard rails on the roads they've chosen, but what a difference that has made for them both. I love Bruce and Dick's relationship, I love it because the question of, "Where do you take a character who fights crime because of the trauma of his lost parents?" has a fascinating answer in, "You have him--step by painful step--grow into being a parent himself, learning to open himself up to being gentle with people he loves and fears losing, to learn to trust those he loves even though they might die." and, when Dick's own losses are mirrored in Bruce's, driving the parallels home even further, it's so important for Bruce to learn to be a father to this kid, as his own father figure nudges him back onto the right path. Alfred is such an important part of that character arc for both of these characters, he is part of the thematic bridge of parents and children that runs through the Batman family of stories, and his role of guiding Bruce into being a better father--to heal from the loss of Thomas and Martha Wayne who should have been there to guide him--by telling him, in the most British gentleman way possible, to look the fuck around and see what's going through that kid.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #robin year one #long post

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feeder86 · 1 year

Text

SNAP!

“Ow! Shit! What the hell…?” Joel shouted, turning around to see what had hit him hard on his backside. He could feel the skin on his rear stinging. Whatever it was that had smacked him, his ass hurt like hell! But as he looked around, he couldn’t see anyone there in the moonlit garden. “Shit!” he moaned again, rubbing his butt, hardly believing that it was still hurting so much.

“What’s the matter?” Harry drunkenly asked, walking into the garden himself, chuckling from his friend’s unknown misfortune. “Ow! SHIT!” he blasted himself a moment later. “Who the fuck was that?”

“Argh! Fuck me!” blasted Danny, as he too followed them both. Joel could just make him out, standing there on the path, rubbing his own rear. “What the fuck is going on?” He ripped his cell phone from his pocket, letting the screen light up and cast a dim glow on the garden as the boys all came together, back on the path.

There, standing in front of them, was an older, stern-looking woman, staring up angrily. She held a walking stick in her hand and the boys immediately knew that that was clearly the source of their current discomfort.

“What the hell are you doing, old woman?” Harry grumbled, still rubbing his ass. “That fucking hurt y’know!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” the woman shot back, pointing the stick up at his face, so close that he went cross-eyed from following its swift movement. “You’re trespassing! I’ve seen you boys here every night this week; drunk on beer and taking a shortcut through my garden; trampling through all my plants!”

“This is assault, you know that?” Danny shot back, incensed by the pain he still felt. “You’re a fucking danger! Old hags like you should be in a nursing home!”

His head spinning from the beer, Joel put a hand on his buddy’s broad back,seeing that he was going a little far. The old lady was quite right after all, they weren’t supposed to be there in her garden.

“I was married to a jumped-up, arrogant pig, just like you three,” the woman began, still managing to make eye contact with all of them, even with Danny’s cell phone shining in her face. “He thought that the world should revolve around him too; that no one else mattered but him,” the lady continued, showing them all her contempt and disgust. “He was under the impression that his good looks were all he needed in life. And just like you three, he didn’t have any manners or respect for women either.” She paused; the garden becoming eerily quiet. “You’ll get what you deserve though. The way you treat people in life always has consequences.”

“Whatever!” Danny huffed, continuing to charge through the garden to jump the fence at the other end. “Come on guys. Just ignore her,” he called back to them both.

“You’ll see!” the old woman cried with a voice dripping with satisfaction. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, or ten years from now, but one day everyone will see what arrogant pigs you really are.

Joel heard Harry begin to follow on. Feeling a pit of guilt about upsetting the old lady, he waited a moment longer. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, before turning and following the other two; climbing the fence and making that shortcut back to the frat house.

Over the following years, Joel looked back fondly on his time in college. He’d worked hard and played harder. But it had also got him to where he needed to be in life: a good job, with plenty of travel opportunities; perfect for someone with few aspirations to ever settle down. Back in the day, he would have said that Danny was a closer friend to him than Harry. However, it was only Harry that he remained in contact with these days. Sometimes that was just the way life worked out.

“There you are, you handsome bastard!” Harry cried; his face lighting up as soon as he saw Joel arriving at the wedding venue. “Have you ever seen a prettier face on a guy than this one here?” he joked to those around him as he embraced Joel for the first time since his stag party a couple of months earlier.

“How are you feeling? Nervous?” Joel asked his friend. He stepped back, feeling that something was different when he hugged Harry. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching a hand out to rub a small paunch that seemed to be sprouting from Harry’s middle. “Have you been stress eating?” he joked, finding it incomprehensible that fitness-obsessed Harry would ever carry a few extra pounds on his athletic frame.

Harry laughed, but immediately changed the subject, clearly embarrassed about his new shape. Joel looked on as his buddy nervously paced up and down, checking on things before his bride would be arriving. His suit was surprisingly ill-fitting. The pants were snug around his butt cheeks and Joel wasn’t altogether convinced that the top button was in place underneath the guy’s belt. It was clearly a fresh gain, for Harry had shown no signs of getting a little chunky at the stag party when he’d raved all night without a shirt on. In fact, even when his stunning bride arrived, walking down the aisle, her eyes were not filled with the loving adoration that most would expect. Instead, she frowned, seeming to silently scold Harry as she looked down at the tight stretch of his shirt buttons.

Joel’s attention soon started to wander as the day went on. Harry had clearly started early that morning, building his courage before the ceremony. So when the beers and champagne flowed later on, it was clear that he was struggling a little more than most. The chief bridesmaid was ridiculously sexy and as Joel made enquiring eyes over in her direction, he was pleased to see that the interest appeared to be mutual. There weren’t many people that Joel knew at the wedding, and aside from the guys he’d met at the stag party, he’d turned his charm up to full blast in order to make friends. But that bridesmaid was still looking over at him, getting Joel so aroused that he didn’t even notice a gluttonous Harry making his fifth tour of the buffet. The sex, when they eventually made it that far, was pretty decent for a one-night fling, and Joel lay back in bed feeling more than satisfied; content to stay there the entire night and enjoy a second round in the morning.

“It was a good wedding yesterday,” Joel rambled after they came. It was still too early in the morning to just take off; feeling that he needed to hang around for at least twenty minutes so that it didn’t seem rude. “I think they’ll be very happy together.”

The bridesmaid huffed sceptically. “Ya think?” she asked, as if she knew something Joel didn’t. Then, when Joel looked at her curiously, she rolled her eyes and told him everything. “Harry and I slept together a couple of nights ago. He told me he’d always had a thing for me and that he couldn’t get married without having me first… We were both drunk. He came in less than three minutes. It really wasn’t good!”

“Harry cheated?” Joel asked, completely shocked. He could hardly believe it. Then again, he’d been so turned on when he’d spotted this girl only yesterday. He couldn’t imagine having to stare at her for years and years and never getting to have any fun with her. It was the whole reason why Joel never did relationships, and he made thoroughly sure that everyone knew it. “Does anyone know that you two..?” he began asking.

“No. I’ve not told anyone. It doesn’t exactly make me look good, does it? Sleeping with my best friend’s husband!” She sighed and held her face in her hands.

Joel was soon putting his pants back on and making his escape. He slipped back into his own room and freshened up before heading down for breakfast in the hotel. It was still early and not many had made it down as yet. However, there was Harry, still dressed in his tight pants and shirt from the night before, greedily feasting from one of the many plates of food he’d brought back to his table.

“Hey, buddy!” Joel cried, slipping his hands onto Harry’s shoulders as if to massage him. “What’re you doing up so early? And where’s your wife?” he laughed, trying his best to forget about the guy’s infidelity.

Harry didn’t answer. He only ate.

“Is everything alright with you two?” Joel asked, setting aside his usual boyish bravado whilst he spoke to Harry now. The revelation of Harry’s cheating had unnerved him.

“I woke up feeling really hungry,” Harry replied between mouthfuls. “Has the fresh bacon come out yet?” he asked, looking up at the buffet tables. “They said it was coming.”

Joel could see several greasy plates, already emptied and waiting to be collected from Harry’s table. “Dude, it’s the morning after your wedding. Why are you worrying about bacon?”

“Is the bacon ready, or not?” Harry demanded aggressively.

“Harry!” Joel gasped in shock. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

Seeming to realise he’d overstepped, Harry looked ashamed, dropped his fork and put his hand to his surprisingly sweaty forehead. “Joel, I don’t know what’s happening to me!” he mumbled. “I did something, and now…”

Harry suddenly looked like he was fighting something inside of himself. His body jerked forwards slightly and it seemed almost as if something was trying to climb out of his throat. That was when it happened. He snorted quietly, as if making an impression of a baby pig. Immediately, the tension in his face seemed to retreat and he snorted twice more, just a little louder, before picking up his fork again and setting back to the copious amount of food still on his plate.

Joel suddenly found that his heart was racing. It wasn’t the fact that Harry had just done something so strange; it was the fact that he had done something that was actually unsettlingly familiar…

Eight years earlier, it had been the boys’ final weeks in college. Despite the beautiful sunshine that had arrived, everyone had grown strangely serious, studying and spending every last minute thinking about their final projects. Everyone, that was, apart from Danny. He’d always been the party-boy; the bad influence, always getting himself into trouble. But now the guy had seemed to drop off the face of the Earth. Perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising, given that everyone Joel knew had come to him and asked if he’d heard from Danny since it had all kicked off after the final football game of the season. There had been a huge party and, just like the other boys, Danny had become very drunk, very quickly.

“I hope he’s ashamed of himself,” Emma stated snootily. “Doing that to Jemma just before her final exams! It’s unforgivable.”

Joel tried not to take sides or nod in any way that might signal to Emma that he agreed with her. After all, Danny was his best friend. He’d made a mistake, getting so drunk and kissing Harriet like that. But we’re all human. Mistakes are what we’re best at.

“He’s not replied to any of my messages since last Tuesday,” Joel explained, trying to reframe the situation and let Emma see that he was currently more concerned about Danny’s safety than he was about Jemma’s broken heart. “Even his mom hasn’t heard from him since the weekend.”

“Hopefully he’s dead in a ditch somewhere!” Emma snapped unsympathetically, refusing to be drawn into the building crisis. Then she strutted away from Joel as if he too was contaminated by Danny’s deceit.

Joel tried not to let the worry overtake him. The guy in the dormroom next to Danny had reported hearing him going in and out at strange times. However, Danny hadn’t ever been in when Joel had tried to reach him. Either that, or he simply hadn’t opened the door.

“I need to get into my friend’s room,” Joel explained to the lady at the desk, flashing his devilishly handsome smile, whilst maintaining the doe-eyed look of concern. Even at that age, Joel was more than aware that his good looks were going to get him further in life than any college degree could “No one has heard from him in days. His mom is calling me up every couple of hours.”

“Oh, dear!” the lady replied, rising to her feet. “Well, it’s not really allowed. But this clearly isn’t a normal situation. I suppose, if I came with you, it should be okay…” she pondered aloud, stepping out from behind the desk, ready to follow Joel wherever he was leading her and trying her best not to stare at his cute little butt as she trotted on behind him.

The smell of stale sweat and old beer hit the nostrils hard as soon as Danny’s door was opened. Both of them recoiled a little as they entered the dark space, where the curtains had clearly been drawn for many days. Joel’s finger slid over the greasy light switch, illuminating the large body of the Quarterback sprawled, face down and naked over the bed.

Joel’s feet kicked through empty food cartons and beer bottles as he rushed over to check if Danny was okay. He pushed his hand against the guy’s broad back, surprised at how hot and almost feverish the skin felt to the touch. Breathing just fine, Joel knew that his buddy was most likely on the verge of one hell of a hangover. Perhaps he should have been more weirded out that his friend’s naked, meaty butt was on show, but Joel had seen Danny without his clothes on so many times before: in the changing rooms, or when he was irredemably drunk or high and letting his exhibitionist side out.

“I think we should open the window,” the lady suggested, holding her finger over her nose and looking like she had no intention of doing it herself; or even touching anything in the dirty room.

Feeling obliged to her for getting him inside, Joel immediately followed her suggestion. “I can look after him from here,” he offered, seeing how uncomfortable she was. “I think he might have just had a little bit too much to drink.”

“I think you need to pick your friends more wisely,” the lady whispered to Joel. She was looking over at Danny’s hunched over form; his naked rear pointing directly in her direction as he let rip in his sleep.

“I will,” Joel smiled, determined to remain polite but desperately wanting to get her out so that he could speak to Danny properly and find out what on earth was going on with him. He followed her to the door, closing it behind her, even though the smell of the room was really quite potent.

The mess all over the floor was unreal, like Danny had invited a hundred people over to party in his tiny bedroom.

“Danny! Come on, wake up!” Joel called to him, shaking the football player by the shoulder. He was so hot to the touch, with a thin layer of sweat all over him. “I need to check that you’re okay. Where the hell have you been?”

Danny suddenly stirred and slowly flopped over onto his front. His body on show, Joel instinctively jumped straight off the bed, thinking for a moment that this wasn’t Danny after all. Sitting beneath his mighty pecs was a rather large and distended gut, bloated to the extreme. Danny was groaning and reached his hand to hold it, like it was still expanding and hurting him.

“What the hell have you eaten?” Joel demanded, his eyes wide in shock.

“Everything!” a groggy Danny replied.

“Danny, look at your stomach!” Joel implored him, demanding that he snap out of his stupor. “Have you taken something?”

Despite shaking his head, Danny didn’t even open his eyes. Whilst rubbing his belly, his other hand went straight to his dick, stroking it up and down, even with Joel there in front of him.

That was when Joel heard it: the oinking sounds coming from Danny’s throat. Combined with the stomach rubs he was giving himself, it was as if Danny was making the sounds in order to help himself get off.

“Danny, stop!” Joel demanded, trying to rip Danny’s arm away from his dick. But Danny was strong and holding on tight.

“She did it,” Danny murmured. “This is what she wanted. She said.”

“Who did?” Joel asked, watching as Danny appeared to get closer and closer to coming with quite remarkable speed.

“That woman in the garden. She cursed us.” Danny mumbled, his voice getting deeper and deeper as the inevitable was approaching. “She’s turning me into a…” he tried, before the oinking sounded out once again. Huge jets erupted from his dick, landing all over the duvet and even on the sleeve of Joel’s jacket.

“Danny! What the fuck!” Joel shouted, filled with rage and anger now. But all he could see was his bloated friend, grinning with his eyes still closed tight and a look of contentment spreading over him. “That’s not cool!” Joel spat, trying not to look at the semen on his sleeve in fear that he might start gagging. The stench of the room wasn’t helping either. “Fine!” he stated at last. “If you don’t want my help, I’m just going to leave you like this.”

Joel knew he wasn’t making an empty threat. Why did Danny deserve his help when he’d got himself into a state like this?

“I’m going now,” he announced, hoping that Danny would rouse, even a little, to say something to him.

But Danny was silent and already falling blissfully back to sleep. As Joel left the room, he had no idea that he would actually never see his friend again.

“Harry,” Joel whispered quietly, sitting at the breakfast table with his buddy the morning after his wedding. “Do you remember that time in college when…” Joel began speculatively.

Harry’s face suddenly turned deadly serious, as if he too had been thinking about exactly the same thing. “Danny,” he mumbled; a name that had not passed his lips in years. He stood, as if in a sudden panic. “I’ve got to go!” he mumbled. “I can’t let this…”

The kitchen doors swung open and a steaming tray of fresh bacon was making its way to the buffet. Harry’s face calmed, grabbing his plate and rushing over to fill it up; forgetting everything.

Joel left with an uneasy feeling after the wedding and, against his usual policy, he took the bridesmaid’s phone number and asked her to let him know if things were okay with the newlyweds. He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from her less than two weeks later, informing Joel that it was over. Just like that, Harry’s wife had left him, packing her bags and abandoning the apartment that they had lived in together to move back in with her mother.

It was a long drive to get there, but the feeling of dread at the pit of Joel’s stomach was almost too much for him to bear. He’d thought so much about the similarities between what had happened to Harry and Danny, enough to entertain the possibility that curses could actually come true. Perhaps it was the fact that the sting of the walking stick hitting his butt still twinged occasionally. As if the impact of it was sitting just beneath his skin after all these years. He had to see Harry. He had to rid himself of these doubts and worries in his mind. There was no choice in the matter.

Joel couldn’t get into the apartment block; there was no answer when he buzzed through or tried to call Danny’s cell phone. It was only when he caught the door as someone was leaving that he managed to enter and creep up to Harry’s floor. He knocked on the door, getting no response and feeling the strangest sense of deja vu.

“Hi,” Joel smiled at the middle aged lady who answered the door across the hall. He leaned himself into the doorframe and plastered his face with the boyish smile that always got him what he wanted with the ladies. “I’m supposed to be staying with my buddy, Harry, tonight,” he lied, pointing at the apartment door behind him. “I think he must have forgotten what time I was arriving though!” he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically and widening his smile even more still. “I don’t suppose you know whether any of the neighbors keep a spare for that apartment, do they?”

The lady, who had already been beaming at him, nodded emphatically. “It’s Joel, isn’t it?” she asked. “I remember you from the wedding!”

Pretending to remember her, Joel nodded and told her how great it was to see her again. Most people he met seemed to remember him. And so it was that, within no time at all, he was holding the spare key in his hands, bracing himself for what he might find behind Harry’s closed door.

The first thing that hit Joel was the empty space inside the apartment. It was immediately obvious that there had, until very recently, been a lot more furniture inside. The sofas were gone, with piles of papers and junk sitting in stacks around the space. There was a faint sound of heavy breathing coming from somewhere, but the lack of furniture seemed to disorintate Joel as he explored, looking for his friend. Finally, he swung open a door and found the tiny kitchen space. It was an absolute mess, with a large, stout and barely dressed man asleep on the tiled floor; his head propped back against the cupboards. It seemed as if Harry had been to the supermarket only that day, for one of the paper bags remained intact on the floor. The others, however, seemed to have been ripped to shreds the moment Harry had returned. The floor was covered with the evidence of it all; his mouth smeared with bits of everything; an ill-fitting t-shirt stained and stretched beyond anything that would have been acceptable to wear outside of the apartment.

Harry’s gut was monstrous, his belly button deep and highly visible. Still, he looked strong and broad, even intimidating considering the sheer mass of him. How much had he actually eaten to grow so enormous in such a short time? No wonder his marriage was over. He barely resembled the slightly overweight man he had been only a couple of weeks earlier. He’d fallen asleep with his right hand resting inside his overstretched boxers, giving the impression that he’d masturbated before he’d finally lost consciousness. What an absolute mess!

Joel poked at his friend until he started to rouse. “Get up,” he ordered, trying to hide his irritation that Harry had got himself into this state. “I’m here to look after you,” he stated, suddenly realising that this was never going to be a flying visit. There was no point in trying to ask what was going; no hope of getting any sense out of the man. “Go get yourself a shower and I’ll clean up in here.”

Harry barely seemed to register Joel’s presence as unusual. He rose to his feet clumsily, causing more crumbs and packaging to rain down on the already daunting floor that Joel would have to tidy. He stumbled, almost drunkenly into the door, then strutted, as if unsure of how to carry his own body weight, back into the lounge and disappeared into the bathroom.

“I never told you how bad it was last time I saw Danny,” Joel admitted a couple of hours later, having carried a chair from the bedroom for his buddy to sit on and opting for a short stool for himself. “At least, not the full details,” he admitted, feeling the same sense of shame he had carried with him for years now. How could he have ever abandoned a friend like that? “But, whatever you seem to be experiencing, I think he was going through the same thing. Whatever this is, he wasn’t able to control it either,” Joel stressed, trying to keep Harry’s eyes focused on him. “You’re the only other person in the world who could possibly understand what I’m about to say, but… I think this is all happening because of that night. The old woman in the garden.”

Harry nodded slowly, as if only just comprehending. He sat without a shirt on; his giant butt contained, at least for now, inside straining material that dug sharply into his hips. “She said we were…” Harry started, before Joel stopped him. He didn’t need to hear it.

“I think we need to go back. I think we need to find her. If she’s still alive that is.” He rubbed his forehead, hardly believing that he was saying this. It was all insane madness. Where had his rational brain vanished to? Nevertheless, it was the only course of action he could think of. “First thing in the morning, I’m taking you to that house. And we’re not returning until we have some proper answers.”

Joel made good on his promise, getting Harry out of the apartment bright and early the next day. It hadn’t been easy either; Joel had re-entered the apartment at six in the morning, having crashed in his car for the night as there hadn’t even been a sofa, or comfy chair for him to take inside. Immediately, he had heard the sounds of Harry gorging himself on whatever was left in the kitchen that Joel had spent so long cleaning the night before. He’d been furious and his harsh tone seemed to be the only thing that finally got Harry moving. They’d stopped very briefly for Joel to head quickly into a mall and buy something a little less fitted for Harry. The sight of his big ass crack had turned Joel’s stomach that morning, and there was simply no way he was prepared to let the guy out of the car until that gut of his was covered up.

Harry seemed to drift in and out of full awareness. For ten minutes, he could be bright and clear; explaining vividly why his marriage had so quickly broken down due to the strange urges he’d been experiencing. At these times, he appeared completely self-aware and disgusted with himself. Then, after this period ended, he seemed to become more animalistic. His urges built until he was growling for Joel to stop and let him buy more food. He’d rub his belly and stroke his dick, complaining bitterly that he couldn’t climax without feeling his belly stretching with food. Joel had yelled at him to put his dick away, fearing that those around them would see. It also made Harry sweat quite considerably. Joel could see the shimmer on the guy’s skin and tried not to retch as he imagined the sweat building under Harry’s armpits and within the folds of skin; all of it soaking into his car upholstery. He put his foot down, driving onwards at a steady pace and making good progress by midday.

At long last, the two men were pulling up outside the house that they had known so many years ago. There had been so many familiar places on the way in through the city; Joel’s mind singing with nostalgia. If only he was here under more pleasant circumstances.

“Maybe you should wait in the car?” Joel suggested, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a handful of protein bars to distract the glutton whilst he slipped out and locked him inside; knowing that Harry was a little too spaced out to find the unlocking button and that he had at least three minutes before the car alarm would sound. The knowledge of that made him move with a little more haste into the garden and up the stairs to the front door.

The garden still looked the same as it had back then: well tended and functional, vegetables and fruits growing in most of the spaces. He rang the bell, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. Despite knowing for quite some time that he was coming here, the reality of it only seemed to hit him at that moment, as he waited for someone to answer the door to him.

“Hello!” Joel called out after some time had passed without any response. “My name is Joel Rogerson. I used to go to college here a few years ago,” he tried, not wanting to have come all this way for nothing.

Suddenly there was movement from inside and Joel’s heart quickened again. Someone was coming to the door, one slow step at a time. He braced himself, swallowing hard and trying to look smart for reasons that he could not entirely explain to himself. When the door opened, Joel’s jaw dropped. Standing there was the one person he had least expected to see in the entire world; a face he had not looked upon in many years, but one that he strangely recognised with ease. Unmistakable, it was old buddy, Danny. His face was altered, swollen with fat that had enveloped his entire neck and shrunk his eyes back into his head. He was also shirtless; wide, with an enormous, apron-like gut falling lower than his crotch and a belly button that looked deeper than any Joel had ever seen. He couldn’t imagine the audacity and lack of pride Danny had to come to the door looking like he had.

“No shit!” Danny scoffed, gazing a little down at his old friend, standing there on the porch. “I remember you,” he chuckled, as if he had lived an entire lifetime since their old college days. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Joel replied, caught, almost speechless, at the sight of the monstrously large man Danny had become. Easily surpassing five hundred pounds, Danny loomed large and wide, yet his shoulders appeared strong and masculine, but for the sagging nipples that dripped from his broad chest.

Suddenly, Danny became more interested and his nose twitched, sniffing at the scent he was picking up from Joel. “Who have you brought with you?” he demanded; seemingly excited. He stepped out of the house and gazed into the street, just as Joel’s car alarm burst into life; Harry inside, tearing at Joel’s backpack in the hope of finding more snacks.

Sighing, Joel unlocked the car with a click and Harry immediately climbed out. Amazingly, Danny was charging across the street to meet him; the fat wobbling and the skin folds on his enormous back on show for all to see. He embraced Harry with a genuine delight that he hadn’t shown Joel, guiding him into the house eagerly.

“So, what’s happening to him then?” Joel asked a short while later, once Danny had set Harry up with a large stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that he was already making fast progress with. The whole house was a mess and the kitchen dirtier still. Joel couldn’t imagine accepting any food that came out of it, but Harry didn’t seem to even notice.

“The curse,” Danny chuckled, watching Harry gorging from across the room, like a proud father. “I’m guessing Harry cheated on someone, just like I did. Then, snap! The curse activates… But I’m sure you already worked that out.”

“It’s true then,” Joel sighed, losing all hope of this being one large and unfortunate coincidence.

“Of course it is!” Danny chuckled, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry as he attacked the stack of sandwiches with nothing but pure gluttony. His eyes seemed to sparkle with delight, or worse, nostalgia.

“Is this how it happened to you?” Joel asked, setting aside his own guilt for abandoning Danny all those years ago.

“Pretty much!” Danny nodded, smirking as Harry seemed to speed up with his eating. “The food’s not even important. The curse is what is making him fat, not the calories. But it’s still fun to watch, eh?” he smiled, nodding briefly at Joel.

“How do we stop it?” Joel asked with a little impatience.

“You don’t,” Danny replied, suddenly short-tempered. “I came here, trying to find the old lady who did this. She let me stay here; said she needed a good, strong fat boy to look after her garden whilst she’s away. That’s how I ended up staying here. She grows things in the garden; special things that draw power from the soli; something can only be found in this area.” He looked at Joel, sensing his disbelief. “I don’t know how it works. “I just do as I’m told. I live here, rent-free, and have a little security guard job that keeps me in food,” he grinned, patting the monstrous tank of belly fat he had amassed. “She’ll be so pleased when I tell her Harry has shown up here at long last as well.”

“He’s not staying here,” Joel stated with absolute conviction, realising that Danny had altered beyond anything he recognised now. He was no friend; not any more. “He’s not going to end up like you have. I’ll make sure of that.”

Danny simply smirked at Joel’s challenge and called over to Harry as he watched the man snaffle the last of the bread. “Did you enjoy that?” he teased patronisingly, as if speaking to a child. He raised himself slowly and Joel tried hard not to look at the enormous ass on the man; each glute pumped full of fat, yet remaining strong and capable. “I’ve left out another little treat for you,” he went on, heading to the pantry and returning with a large carton of ice cream. He handed it to Harry, and chose to sit next to him now, deliberately goading Joel as he slipped his fat arm over his old friend, as if claiming him for his own. “You get that down you. You’ll feel better then… I promise.”

As much as Joel had wanted them both to leave, he knew his best hope of getting in touch with the old lady who had created the curse was to hang around and pick from what he could in the house. He’d pretended to need the bathroom, knowing he wouldn’t be missed downstairs, then slowly went on the hunt for anything that might help him. He wouldn’t be missed downstairs, given how infatuated the enormous Danny seemed to be with watching Harry eat.

There were three bedrooms in the house. Danny’s one was obvious straight away. His bed had become a giant pit, sinking in the middle and smelling of stale sweat. Empty snack wrappers and cartons filled the space in much the same way they had the last time Joel had gone in his dorm room and it was obvious, by the simplest of glances, that this was the room of a very obese man. Joel had hoped to find something in the other rooms, but they were nothing but dusty, soulless spaces, devoid of anything interesting whatsoever. Still he tried, lifting the mattresses and searching behind the wardrobes for anything that might help him track down the old lady who had once lived here; something he knew Danny would never help him do.

“That’s it, Piggy!” Danny cried from downstairs, accompanied by loud, deep moans from Harry. “Get every last drop down!”

Joel raced down, wondering what on earth Danny was inflicting upon Harry and kicking himself for having left him alone in the first place. He arrived in the living room just as Harry ejaculated all over his now naked body. His dick was very firmly in Danny’s fist, even as the fat man held a giant gallon bottle of milk over his open mouth. “What are you doing?” Joel demanded. “Leave him alone!”

Danny smiled at Harry, then leant in for a kiss, which Harry gladly accepted and returned; their tongues fusing together as Joel could only watch on. Then, rising to his feet, Danny’s smile faded and he looked grim-faced at Joel. All of a sudden, Joel felt himself being grabbed by his t-shirt and pushed back over the sweaty sofa; his chin held by Danny’s arm and the rest of him pinned against the enormous man’s mass. At that moment, Danny’s part time job as a security guard seemed to make perfect sense. Joel hadn’t even seen it coming and he squirmed, finding it hard to catch his breath.

“You’re killing my mood,” Danny growled at him. “All I’m doing is playing with the pig.”

“Harry… Harry,” Joel gasped, trying to look up at his friend, only inches away from him; sitting on the sofa where he had been laid out flat by the gigantic fat man. “Get him off me!”

Danny chuckled, looking across at Harry himself. “Keep eating, Fat Boy!” he teased. “Grow nice and fat for me!”

To Joel’s astonishment, Harry did exactly as he was told, picking up more of the food Danny had brought in and feeding himself without a single concern about Joel’s ongoing attack.

“He’s mine now!” Danny declared. “But thank you for bringing him to me. You can go home now.”

Harry!” Joel tried one last time; practically begging for him to get up off his ass and get Danny away from him. “Please!”

“You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?” Danny growled. “But there were three little piggies who were cursed that night, remember…”

Seeing that Harry was not coming to his aid, Joel stared hard into Danny’s eyes; his gaze stern and defiant. “I’m nothing like you!” he growled with all the energy he had left in him.

Danny seemed to lower his face down to him and Joel tried to shrink away as he felt the disgusting guy’s hot breath on his face. “Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” Danny whispered in an almost inaudible tone.

Joel felt like he was about to pass out. The room seemed to go dark and he had the strangest feeling of suddenly being outside of his own body. Someone, somewhere, had started oinking like a pig.

When the room came back into focus again, Danny was stood again, with a naked Harry and his stout little belly standing by his side. They were both laughing, very clearly, at him; as if he had just done something he wasn’t even aware of.

Joel rubbed his face and rose properly to his feet, surprised by how dizzy he felt. He grabbed at Harry’s newly bought clothes, empty and discarded on the floor and held them out to him. “Harry, get dressed!” he demanded, feeling physically afraid to stay here any longer. “Come with me now.”

The two men were laughing at him still; as if every word that came out of his mouth was gibberish.

“I mean it, Harry! We have to leave!”

Finally, with no other idea of what to do, Joel threw the clothes down and headed straight for the door. He didn’t look back as his car engine roared into life. He’d done it again; taken the easy option, just as he had eight years earlier. And in doing so, he’d just kissed any hope of saving Harry goodbye.

Joel’s experience played on his mind for months. He felt irritable and impatient with people. He now knew for certain that a curse lived within him, like a parasite waiting for the order to eat him up from the inside. There was no one in the entire world who could know what it was like to live like that; there was no one who would believe him if he tried to explain it. Joel had never really considered marriage and starting a family, but now he felt like those options no longer existed for him anyway. Why open up to someone properly when the temptation to cheat could have such disastrous consequences? Why start a family when his whole life could suddenly fall apart, like Harry’s had?

Going back to his old life was never going to work, and Joel knew it. He needed a fresh start; to get away and make new experiences for himself. Working for a global company, there were occasionally opportunities for someone to make a big leap, just like Joel needed now. When the Gold Coast position came up, it felt like it was meant to be. Joel could easily see himself living in Australia. He’d always been a keen surfer and the lifestyle out there seemed to match entirely with his personality. As such, he didn’t waste any time in submitting an application; already starting to plan his big move.

“May the best candidate win!” Sarah smiled as she passed Joel in the corridor. “I hear you’re going for the transfer too?”

Joel raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew that other people had the option to try out for the new job, but he hadn’t heard anyone else expressing an interest. If he was honest, he wouldn’t have minded all that much if someone else did go for it, but not Sarah. She had one of those formidable personalities: smart, alert and highly capable. She seemed to give off exactly the sort of energy and ethos the company liked best; it was clear to anyone who met her that she was climbing the ranks at rapid speed.

“How come you want to transfer to the Gold Coast?” Joel asked, trying not to let his longing for the job shine through. “I thought you’d want to be heading your way to head office and really start making a name for yourself?” he tried, hoping his words might make Sarah rethink.

“Oh, absolutely!” Sarah nodded. “But this job will be amazing for me, at least for a few months, don’t you think? Just imagine the experience I’ll get!” she beamed.

Joel bit his tongue. Sarah was willing to ruin this opportunity for him just to boost her CV. He could tell that she already knew she had the job, and why wouldn’t she? Everyone seemed to think the sun shone out of her ass. But she didn’t know how much Joel needed this move, and he doubted very much that an ambitious girl like her would even care if he ever tried to explain it to her.

It wasn’t Joel’s finest moment, but as he saw Sarah’s application form sitting there on their line-manager’s desk whilst she was out to lunch, he did the only thing he felt he could do to take back some sort of control in his life. Sifting through the papers, he took out the optional personal statement where Sarah always seemed to excel. He read it through, shaking his head. He’d spent hours trying to sell himself on his application, yet Sarah’s words were all so much better than his. Hell, if he was choosing, there’s no way he would give the job to anyone else after reading this. It was instinct: scrunching the personal statement into a ball and quickly scurrying out of the office, knowing that he had definitely given himself a much better chance: a last hope. There would be plenty more opportunities for the likes of Sarah. But, right now, Joel had to put himself first. He deserved this after all he had been through recently.

It was the Friday of that week when it happened. The clock ticked to midday and Joel suddenly felt an almighty, thunderous slap on his butt. He was sitting down at his desk at the time and he jumped up shouting a loud expletive. Everyone looked up at him from their computers, some scowling and sheltering their phones to protect customers from hearing any more unprofessional workplace language.

Joel didn’t care. He rubbed his ass, wondering what the fuck had hit him like a sharp, stinging cane travelling at a hundred miles an hour. Had no one else heard the loud SNAP as it had connected with him?

He sat back down, still grumbling as the busy office continued on regardless.

“Are you all right?” asked one of Joel’s colleagues. “You were in the bathroom for like, half an hour.”

Joel shook his head. “Was I?” he asked, squinting to see the time on his computer. It was almost the end of the day and he was nowhere near done with everything he needed to do. He rubbed his forehead, feeling how sweaty and warm he felt. “Have they turned the heat up or something?”

Surveying him from a distance, Joel’s colleague felt confident in her diagnosis. “I think you’re coming down with something,” she declared, before insisting that he went home a little early.

Although Joel remembered agreeing to leave work, it was gone eight in the evening before he found himself finally getting into his apartment. He felt so hungry, deciding that he was going to grab something and then head straight to bed in order to shake off whatever this strange funk was.

Joel was woken by a knock at his door. He looked around, seeing he’d drifted off on his couch and he slowly got himself up. He brushed his hand through his hair, still feeling that he had a temperature. He almost forgot what he was getting up for, until he heard the knock again; louder and more impatient.

“Hey there!” smiled Freya, leaning seductively against the doorframe. “Did I interrupt a workout?” she teased, seeming to appreciate the sweaty sheen on him and the way Joel’s t-shirt was clinging to his toned chest.

Joel knew what Freya wanted. She only ever came round when she was bored and horny. Then, most of the time, being the gentleman that he was, joel would sort her out and have some fun along the way. As occasional fuck-buddies went, Freya was a smoking hot choice. Her hand slipped onto his shoulders and they began smooching right there on the doorstep.

Freya must have peeked during their kiss, for she pulled out of the kiss suddenly. “Jeez, Joel! Your apartment is a mess!” she laughed. “I’ve never seen it like this!”

Joel knew he hadn’t hoovered since last weekend and he shrugged, not wanting to turn around and look when he was holding Freya’s beautiful hips in his hands. “Shall we go straight to the bedroom then?” he asked.

Freya smiled back at him, glad that their foreplay time was getting shorter and shorter these days. They both had an itch to scratch, so why waste time?

Twenty minutes later, Joel had never felt more embarrassed in his life as he came out of his bedroom, trying to convince Freya to stay a little longer. He’d never had these issues before. He was young, fit and very accomplished in the bedroom. These sorts of things didn’t happen to guys like him.

Freya didn’t seem to have any patience and actually seemed deeply offended. No matter what she had done, where she had put Joel’s dick, or how much effort she put in, Joel just wasn’t getting hard with her. “Maybe we could try again tomorrow?” Joel asked, keen not to lose his occasional bed companion, or for her to spread the word that he hadn’t been able to get it up. But Freya was not stopping for a chat. She’d made her frustration quite plain in the bedroom and, within a moment, Joel found himself alone, looking down at his dick, wondering what the hell had just happened. Whatever lurgy he was suffering from today, he wasn’t feeling at all himself.

“Joel? Where are you, buddy? It’s gone 9am.”

Joel shook his head and tried to make sense of why his boss was calling him. He looked across at the clock on the wall. It was twenty past nine, but he had no idea whether that was morning or night. It certainly couldn’t be Monday morning, surely?

Sensing his grogginess, Joel’s boss blundered on, filling the silent void where Joel was still trying to think of what to say. “Angela said you looked like you were coming down with the flu on Friday before you left? I’m guessing you haven’t had much of a weekend?”

“No,” Joel replied, rubbing his sweaty face, finally ready to believe that he was actually late for work. “I’ve been pretty spaced out. I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like some sort of fever. I didn’t even realise it was Monday already.”

“Joel, it’s absolutely fine,” his boss replied; her voice full of understanding and concern. “Five years you’ve worked here and never taken a sick day. I was starting to think you were super-human or something. Please look after yourself, go see a doctor and give me a call when you think you’ll be ready to come back in.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbled, already losing track of what his boss was saying: too much information all in one go.

“When you come back, I’ll want to talk to you about your application for the transfer too,” she went on. “You were by far the strongest candidate with your personal statement. Even Sarah failed to sell herself on her application form. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“You mean, I got it?” Joel asked, suddenly brought back to life by the news.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better,” his boss chuckled. “But, yes. Well done, Joel. You did it!”

After putting the phone down, Joel felt a burst of energy and clarity that he hadn’t experienced in some time. He’d got the job! Even Sarah hadn’t been able to outdo him this time!

But then Joel’s smile faded. He began to think back to the week before, when he had slipped out part of Sarah’s application and kept it. He’d got the job by cheating; he knew that. And if no one had noticed before the midday deadline last Friday, her application would have been seriously weakened. But, he’d cheated, Joel’s mind kept on reminding him, and Sarah had suffered for it. He remembered the weird thwack he’d felt on his butt that lunchtime, bringing back that awful memory of the night he, Harry and Danny had been caught in the old lady’s garden, back in college. That was the last time he’d experienced pain like that before. He’d cheated, his mind repeated. Like a selfish pig.

Joel felt his heart sink like an anchor plunging into icy seawater; yet it began beating faster than he had ever felt it before. He shifted from this way to that, not knowing where to go. He eventually found himself in the bathroom, feeling the sudden urge to pour cold water over his face to try and keep his mind focused. It was the first time he’d noticed that he was still naked after getting frisky with Freya. Had that been Friday night? Saturday? Time had gotten away from him. Then, in the reflection, he saw it for the first time. The masking of his abs with a budding layer of fat. It had surreptiously built, thickening his waistline as Joel twisted to see if what he was actually seeing was true. He looked like he’d gained twenty pounds in a single weekend. “No, no, no, no!” he panicked, twisting further to see his small, tight buns also looking thicker and beefier. Then he pushed his face into the mirror, observing the start of a small chin under his handsome jawline. “No! Fuck!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. It was all so unfair! This was all happening because of fucking Sarah? Where the fuck was the justice in that?

Joel needed to do something. He could explain! He probably still had Sarah’s personal statement scrunched up in his pocket somewhere. He could take it to his boss and confess to what he had done. It didn’t have to be too late!

But just as soon as this thought came to him, Joel suddenly felt a sharp pain attacking his stomach. With his fingers, he gripped the edges of the sink and lowered his head, growling with discomfort. It almost seemed like his insides were being rearranged, his stomach tying itself in knots. Joel tried to push against the unpleasantness, to squeeze it back from wherever it came from. But there was a feeling, like something trying to creep its way up his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror to see what it was as he couldn’t hold onto it anymore. “Oink, oink!” he heard himself snort. The feeling of relief was instantaneous. “Oink, oink!” he cried again, not fighting the urge this time; the pressure in his stomach decreasing dramatically.

Within a few more seconds, the episode seemed to be over. He gazed at his body once more, surprised to see that his little paunch had appeared to gain a few more pounds again. He was getting love handles, curving out to the sides! Yet, there it was: the erection that had so evaded him during his evening with Freya. Pumped full of blood, it tingled with wild sexual energy, like he had never felt before. His train of thought lost, Joel put his hand to it and fell even further.

Joel couldn’t remember going out for supplies, but he cringed as he saw how he had dressed himself. Having planned to go to the gym on Saturday morning, his tight shorts, fitted sleeveless t-shirt and trainers were the only things he had left out for himself. Now they all seemed to fit horrifyingly badly. In the last couple of days, his stomach had been swelling up, becoming like a small tire around his waist. He’d developed love handles like he’d never seen before, soft and doughy to the touch, whilst his belly button had seemed to deepen with each passing hour. He gazed in horror at himself, seeing how he had the appearance of a man who had no comprehension of how dreadful he looked; his fleshy stomach peeking out below his t-shirt, his underwear and shorts not quite large enough to cover his rear; a sweaty ass crack on display for all to see. Had he bumped into someone he knew as well? He couldn’t quite remember properly. All his memories seemed shrouded in a fog. He’d offended someone. There had been shouting. Now there was cake, or chocolate sauce, or something along those lines, all smeared around his face.

How long had it been since the curse had activated? All sense of time was lost and Joel seemed incapable of remaining level-headed for more than a few minutes at a time. He now understood why Harry had been behaving in the way that he had. He couldn’t imagine the mental effort it must have taken for him to recite his wedding vows after this had all started.

But what about Danny? How had he done it? He may not have been anything like the guy Joel remembered, but he didn’t seem to have the same difficulties with staying lucid. He even had a job! Was that because he wasn’t trying to fight it anymore?

As he thought, Joel suddenly realised his hand was in his pants, tugging at his dick; his other hand sliding across the fresh fat in his middle. He growled angrily in frustration that he barely seemed able to do anything for more than two minutes before he was gorging himself on something, or trying to pleasure his body in other ways. He needed to work past this stage and quickly. He needed his mind back and to end the mental exertion of fighting this.

“I’m giving into this curse. I surrender,” Joel told himself in the mirror, looking straight into his own eyes as if speaking to the curse within. “You win!” he told it. “I’m a…” he hesitated, finding it hard to say the word. “I’m a pig!”

Afterwards, Joel couldn’t remember a thing. He seemed to have skipped days and days. He looked at his body, all bloated with pounds and pounds of even more fat. He’d developed a gut, fleshier nipples and a rounded double chin. His ass appeared to have doubled in width; his thighs fleshy but strong. There wouldn’t be a thing in his whole apartment that would conver his body now and yet, there were larger pants and t-shirts waiting in parcels that he didn’t remember ordering.

Joel pinched and grabbed at the flesh, feeling his hardness throbbing as he did so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t need to worry about work anymore and there was a nagging feeling that he would have to leave his apartment soon. Had something happened? He chuckled at the vague memories that passed through his mind. He would need to find somewhere else to go…

“Well, well, well!” Danny sniggered as Joel let himself into the house near their old college campus. “What have we here?” he chirped, standing up and admiring the changed form of Joel.

It had taken so much training for Joel to handle the long journey up here, but he’d managed it at long last. His mind had needed sharpening, his attention span building up once more. He’d spent hours choosing to be on all fours, gorging himself in order to support the transition. He had stuffed himself beyond feeling full and masturbated more times than he ever had as a teenager. But it had all been for the best. He felt, for the most part, alert once again; remembering most, if not all, of his days. He matched Danny’s stare and held it confidently, letting the guy know that he wasn’t about to be pushed around by him again. He grinned, snorting like a pig and then watched as Danny lost a little of his own composure, leaning forwards slightly and echoing the sounds, whether he meant to or not.

“Where’s the othe pig?” Joel asked; his dick hard and excited to see the transformation. Already he was kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt, letting Danny know that he was here to stay.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Danny reluctantly replied. “He’s still pushing against it. At least, some part of him is,” he explained. “Jeez! Fuck, Joel! You got fat!” he then suddenly excliamed, seeing Joel’s enormous gut and sounding rather jealous.

“I triggered the curse three months ago,” Joel smirked, tapping his large gut and enjoying the wobble of the softest underside of it.

“Like fuck you only triggered the curse three months ago,” Danny shot back. “Bullshit! Even Harry isn’t as big as you yet.”

“Well that will need to change, won’t it?” Joel laughed with pride. “That old lady had cursed three fat pigs; not two. He’s going to have to catch up now I’m back here. He can’t keep fighting against this forever.”

Joel deliberately sat himself down in Danny’s chair, resting his large butt and sighing in appreciation of being off his feet. Danny, the former quarterback may have been the biggest now, but he wouldn’t always hold that title; Joel knew that with absolute certainty.

“What do you think you can do to get Harry fattening faster than I have?” Danny grunted, seeming put out by the insinuation that he hadn’t been doing a good enough job with their mutual friend.

“You’ll soon see,” Joel smiled, rubbing his large gut and feeling it expand with the confidence he felt in embracing his new personality. What a life this would be; living here, rent-free, with two other fat guys. He jiggled his gut to catch Danny’s attention, knowing that he’d have sex on tap with both of the horny pigs that lived here. Then, just like that, the enormous man came striding over to rub and caress Joel’s gut, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even with all his bravado, Danny was a slave to the fat, every bit as much as Joel was.

“Where’s good for pizza around here?” Joel asked. He put his sweaty feet up on the table knocking over everything that had been left on there. Then he spread his legs as Danny slipped his hands into Joel’s sweatpants and began tugging him off. “I’m absolutely starving!”

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